Zayzee Writes

Sitting in the departure lounge at the airport, alone because only those travelling could be there, both of them kept contact through the phone as she waited to be transported away, far from him. And here are some text messages they exchanged in those few minutes, before the plane arrived. SHE: Though my memory with him always is, the smell of me he dabbed around HIM: And I’ve got part of you with me. Your hanky. SHE: And that too. Stained with sand from my heels. Will you wash it? HIM: Nope I won’t. SHE: Does that poem fall under haiku? Haiku poems are 14 words. Not sure the number of syllables. Will edit it at home and blog it. HIM: Haiku poems talk about nature as they relate to human relationships. 14 line poems are Shakesparean. SHE: Naa. As long as it’s 14 words and a certain number of syllables, it’s haiku. HIM: Thought you said 14 lines. SHE: What will you do with a dirty handkerchief? HIM: It still has your smell. SHE: Ok. The face towel in the bathroom has my smell too. If I...

Seven days from today and Uzezi is back fully to blogging. I promise. I have missed all you guys who missed me, and didn't miss those who didn't miss me. I have got loads of gist to blog about. Starting from the fact that this particular blog is coming from The Gambia, where I am at the moment with my ....( fill in the gap). Will be back home in no time and back to blogging. While I was gone, I turned a year older on July 5, finished a programme at Daystar Christain Centre, meaning I am now a bonafide member of the church. I got more business prospect, and the big news...... wait for it but get used to this name please- Entertainment Planent - it means a lot to me. Okay, my fingers got to rest, and in seven days time, I promise some gist. Missed you all and i'm not happy about the back load of posts I have to read on your blogs. your blogger in kind, Uzezi.

I've been gone a while. And I still will be gone some more. Too many things are begging for attention and I need to sit up because for a while, I have been too comfortable that I have almost forgotten the reason why I resigned from my former place of employment. But I will be back soon, and I will have loads of gist for you all. I will do my best to visit blogs now and then. And I hope I don't miss all the fun. I know I will. With 14th and Serenity and all. I will try to catch up, but right now, my work needs my undivided attention because its coming like a new born baby. So, while I'm gone, I will appreciate every prayers for Uzezi to succeed at whatever it is that has taken her away from blogging for now. I promise to tell about the work soon, when things are in better perspective, and I ain't confused. Meanwhile, I noticed two things weeks back. First, the blogger called Doll, has disappeared. Secondly, Pamela went private, and I can't view her blog anymore. Pame...

As a kid, I knew how play. Run around everywhere playing playing playing. We had different songs we sing and play with. We had different games also. Last night, while lying down, I started reciting some of them, and thought they will make a lovely post. Game If I say I kill my one star, you say you kill your two star, okay? Let’s start. Me: I kill my one star You: I kill my two star Me: I kill my three star You: I kill my four star Me: I kill my five star You: I kill my six star Me: (screaming) haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! You killed your sister. A song we play to with our hands New money e don come I buy garri for 10k I give Mary to cook am Mary cook am e no don I beat Mary she no cry I kill Mary she no die Which kind Mary be dis o Amina, amina toro A lazy girl Shina, agoro pepper Ragarogo ragarogo Simpe Abele sam I’m sure it sounded something like that, even if I might have missed some spellings.

I have been tagged! Checked my comments and was informed by naijalines that I am one of six of her newly acquired enemies. Then onome had to tag me too. Well, so as not to overdo and acquire a new name for myself in blogville, here we go with the rules:- 1. Link the person who tagged you – see I already did that in the beginning of the post. 2. Mention the rules in your blog- which is what you are reading now 3. Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours- right after the rules okay? 4. Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them- check at the end of this post. 5.Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been tagged- alrighty. I had to think and unthink, write and unwrite what I believe will fit into quirks for me. So, here are my 6 unspectacular quirks. I can never be caught out without wearing a bra. I know they say never say never. But this is a never forever. I’m not a crowd person. I’d rather be home with a book than hanging out with a crowd. E...

I am so sad. So fucking sad! I don’t know why this has to happen. Liverpool had such bad luck last night that I couldn’t even eat. Okay, that’s an exaggeration. I ate my noodles, but I didn’t finish it because I’m heart broken. And truth is that I am not even a fan. That’s right, I’m a Gunner for ever, but you see, this damn football club called Liverpool took my Arsenal out of the Champions League, and if they could do that then they should win the others. I know I ought to have sided with Chelsea because of what Liverpool did to us during the quarter finals, but then, I don’t like Chelsea, I can’t like Chelsea. No they did nothing to me, but their fans are too damn proud. Their players, Drogba especially, thinks he’s all that, he is too damn proud. There is no room for the Blues in my heart. Liverpool had bad luck right from the first leg, when Riise put them behind with an own goal. Then that penalty of yesterday was just so fucked. Why did Liverpool have to break my heart this way...

Back in the days, I used to consider myself a poet. I even went to the extent of performing the poem below, before an audience of talented artistes at Jazzville, during the Open Mic of the Word n Sound programme organised by one Majek (can't remember his other name)and Beautiful Nubia. One notable talent that has continued her work in what she believes in from that place, is the rave of the moment ASA. Back then, just with her guitar, she blew our minds. I had memorized the poem and learnt some gesticulations to follow. I even bought a new top and jeans for the night. I remember the top was red. My friend Pat accompained me there, and when I got on stage, I pretended not to see anyone, did my thing and left quickly, but the audience applauded sha. RECONCILIATION Let us perform Some simple ablutions. In the act, Let us pause, And lock eyes. Let us see Our inner thoughts. Let us realise What we want. We have grown Beyond the age of derision. We have seen Beyond the eyes of a precogni...