Poems, THINK

This Is How To Die- A Poem

Eat up every poison laced meal of self
doubt and wash it down with a glass of anxiety.

Take a knife to your soul and shred every bit of kindness your mama ever taught you, Because being a flower in world where everyone is concrete Equates vulnerability to Weakness.

Inject your veins with a Milligram of blood curling screams worth of criticism from friends and foe alike and recite it as your daily Mantra.

Stay close to the edge of the cliff that was made from seeking Validity, for existing in a world where everyone wants to be seen or heard.

Choke on your Words because you believe that if you shout loud enough, you will be heard, you see; the world spins madly on and so even when you are speaking so loudly all they see is lips moving.

Accept Poison, Laced in the form of a relationship, Have it eat away at your Self-Esteem, teaching you to only want the small things, While accepting Scraps and calling it Love.

Set yourself on a platform disguised as friendship, become a hang man, put your head in a noose and watch friends turn into butterflies, fluttering away while you watch the breath slip from you.

Stab away at your soul for being the one who takes up space, who shows up every single day and lives.

Gamble away your life at a particular table called Apology, Say sorry for every single decision you’ve ever made, even for fighting everyday to stay alive.

Better yet………

Choose daily to shred off all the weight, the disappointment, the hurt, the pain, by pouring Gasoline on your being and taking a match to you.

Because you believe that the only way to destroy what they had put in you was to burn down your whole body, while chanting “When there is nothing else left to burn, You set Yourself on Fire”

This truly is only how to become ashes when you were always meant to be the phoenix.




I was 6 when I noticed that one side of Olanma’s face was sagging, so low like Iya Lasun’s aged breast which had nursed five children, it was often rumored that if you put a beetle on those breasts it would start “standing” like Aunty Laide’s own, so it was natural that I,Ogechi and Ugochukwu would call Olanma and put Ugo’s beetle on the sagging part of Her face just so that her face will stand too.

Mama chinedu caught us one day, and threatened to tell Mama, one knows that the fear of “utali” is the beginning of true wisdom. So we left olanma’s face to its fate.

On the morning when Olanma started running towards us with the same gait that Chuma the imbecile ran with, one leg few inches apart, one hand bent at an awkward angle, refusing to lift its head like Mallam Musa when he slept at his kiosk ,with spittle drooping by the corner of her lips, I stood there rooted to the ground, my brain willing me to move .

I was the smart 6 year old who had always wanted to become a doctor, I had read all the medical magazines that Brother Dami brought back from Randle General hospital to know that Olanma had partial stroke, I told mama but she told me ” That children do not suffer from stroke, only old men, who worked from dawn till dusk like Chief Olugbemi who owned the yellow house where chidinma lived, suffered such unfortunate diseases”

Everyday people came to pray in her house, they would scream and beg God to make the devil leave her alone, they scrubbed her head with iron sponge, that type that Mama Ugochukwu use in washing her iron pot, one night I heard her scream, the type Toheeb screamed when brother Saheed locked him and beat him with koboko.

That night when Olanma couldn’t move again, Papa Tolani came with his big motor and carried all her family members, her brother who we called professor, told us they were going to the “hospitah”

Later that night I had dreams of Her, but in my dreams, her face was standing and her hair which was coiled to perfection like that Fulani man who stayed at Musa’s kiosk was combed backwards and her big brown eyes were staring at me accusingly, before I saw her in the tiny box where she laid still and closed her eyes.

Okoro told me that everybody said it was somebody in our compound that poisoned her, that she ate food in Mama Blessings house and since then her face started sagging. what one did not know, one did not speak of; Mama hushed me and told me to go wash the beans so that we will start going to the junction to sell evening market.

I guess I had him to thank because It prepared me for the drama that hit our yard that afternoon, when Mama Chinedu came back and poured water into Mama Blessings house and swore to kill one of her children if Olanma died, Mama told me that it was motherly instinct that made her speak in such a ridiculous manner, she told me that when one was Faced with the reality of losing a child, one turned to a person capable of murder.

I stood in our parlor which was located at the other side of the compound and told God that if Olanma lived I would stop making her do my chores while I stuffed myself with mama Bose’s rice , and go to church every friday for children class, armed with the things I had been told at church that God Loved Me and will answer me.

This afternoon all the men in Mama Chinedu’s house and Mama Blessing’s house came together they were speaking in hushed tones and looked too serious. Like the way those elders in that “feem” “Okonta” looked when the community was in crises.

I knew it that moment that things would never remain the same. I still prayed under my breath, Lord let her live, because really what is a human being without hope? No one told me that hopes could be crushed into dust. No one told me that little girls could die and leave holes shaped like them in peoples heart.

So when Papa Tolani’s van stopped in front of our yard, and I saw one small looking box at the back with white clothe on it, I knew that all my sunday school teachers had taught me the wrong thing and I would never go to children class again

It dawned on me that,God Loved me, But Sometimes He Loved Little Girls with sagging faces that refused to stand.

“Kamnelechukwu Susan Obasi”

Featured, Friendships, THINK

Life Lately + Giveaway Win

Beautiful People; A very Happy New Month to Everyone.
There are sins you commit and your mouth becomes too stiff to apologise.
My heart isn’t hardened yet.

My people I am on my knees, apologising, I didn’t and wouldn’t abandon my blog. Life and school happened to me.

School has a way of stealing our groove, especially mine.

Yet here’s what has been going on with me.

I read 50books last year and it felt so good to finish something, (Queen B of procrastination here), so I decided to do 60books this year and I haven’t read up to 20, help me someone. But I am currently reading;
1. Ghana Must Go by Taiye Selesi.
2. Of course I love you! Till I find someone else by Durjoy Datta
3. We are water by wally lamb
And a book review is coming up soon and I have Afoma to thank for the book. An Untamed State by Roxanne Gay.

As a recluse I went to the movies alone; twice.
Mad Max is an intense movie.
I finally saw Pitch Perfect 2 lol
Then the series Empire> you saw that one coming didn’t you?
Jussie smollet is Bae.

Blogs I have been stalking
Ahem please as opposed to itimi calling me a silent stalker, I think you’re awesome that’s why I stalk you.
So in no particular order
1. Cassandra Ikegbune’s blog-this is my daily drug
2. Kunmi Oni’s Blog– because she’s wise, like a big sister.
3. Afoma’s blog– some people say it better than you, and her photography is all shades of awesome.
4. Ebunite’s– because she has the most hilarious and deep links to things, plus she reads.
5. MenoWord– she is deep.
6. Grace’s blog– I love grace #nuffsaid.
7. Duru’s Blog #nuffsaid
8.Temi’s Blog – baby this list ain’t complete without you.
9. Sisi’s Blog– Her baby is cute and she is amazing
10. Dobby’s– because deep down I am a sworn foodie.

This has been the most amazing part of my life
1.Bobome remix by ada
2.Hillsong’s Empire album is all shades of awesome; street called mercy is my favourite
3.For king and Country-Fix my eyes and Shoulders
4.Jenn Johnson of Bethel music- in over my head and I can feel you.
Finally Morgan harper nichols ft jamie grace – storyteller. Had it on repeat for days.

Lessons Learnt
Just a handful. A new post would be put up later for this.
Never ever doubt yourself. You are Enough
Love is a Verb.
Be kind to yourself
Humility pays.
When you feel down, buy a new shade of lipstick.

Giveaway wins

I won my first giveaway on kunmi’s blog. Her ebook from the series can be dowloaded at
#31DaysOfLovingLikeJesus she’s the elder sister I never had.

Thanks to Duru of YNC blog, Chief caretaker, number one womanizer of africa for checking up on me while I was away.

Well guys that’s what’s up.

Will update more.

I love you guys more than you imagine.
Let me know what’s been going on with you; leave a comment below.
Remember there is beauty and color in your life, shine on.


For Gweni; The Reason May Became Special :)

“You Go Dey Alright She Said”
I still find myself saying that phrase when I feel overwhelmed or uncertain about a certain situation.

This is for that one time when we met on the streets of twitter.

This is for that one time we felt “Americanah” was highly overrated.

This is for the other times when I felt like we were kindred spirits.

This also is for those times when distance became so unbearable, and we could go days without speaking to each other, but when we do we just pick up from where we left off.

This also is for those times when I would whatsapp you about something that made me happy or sad or I just wanted gist.

This is for when you amazed me and gave me a book I had longed to read. “Jeffrey Archer’s – A Twist in The Tale” ok not give exactly but prompted me in downloading it”

This too is for that one time when you wrote me that beautiful note, I still feel butterflies when I read it.

This is also for that one time when you told me about side hustle, when you support my art with your words.

This is also for all the beautiful memories we would still share; yeah for the bachelorette parties, the baby showers, Long phone calls, the traveling to see places, buying all the books on amazon, eating all the chocolate we lay our hands on, serving God diligently and getting old and trying to see whose gray her fits her more.

There are friends you would meet and they simply “get you”, no pretense. They encourage you to see past your flaws, and dare you to be you.

I wouldn’t even start to tell you how amazing you are, even without having met you I just know it, like Gods Word Shut up in my Bones.

I pray you soar, I pray you shine, I pray you win daily.

Come June 2015 I hope to work miracles, then we can eat a big cake on your behalf, but for now I am just content with saying happy birthday to the most amazing person on earth.

Words aren’t enough Gweni’ to say all I want to say.

Daughter of consolation.
A Blessing.
A Lifter of Men.
An encouragement.

I love you from the very depth of my heart *dont you dare roll your eyes at me*

Happy birthday Gweni’. You deserve all the love in the world.

Love Suzanne.


On Ideas And Reality

We constantly get ideas.

We fall in love with ideas of how we want our lives to be, how easy it is to tell strangers versions of ourselves we either shy away from or wish was true, how it was easy to create in our minds versions of our lives we imagined.

We fall in love with possibilities, things we hope will happen and the
people we hope they become rather
than facts about the way they really are, a possibility or a reality? There is a huge difference.

She knows what she wants but her mind is warped up in the possibilites and she sticks around hoping it becomes a tangible reality.

He pushes You around, throws hateful words till it becomes your daily confession, reduces your self worth to a puzzled mess, but with each new day you shrug it off,

Yesterday becomes a tiny speck of dust, a minute annoyance., its a different day you say.

Some days are different, but some days not so much,Because when it’s bad, it’s awful.
You become someone who tolerates.
You become someone who hopes just
enough too much that you ignore
what’s going on right in front of you.

You settle.

We fall in love with ideas.
We meet someone who we see more
than just wasted time with.

We put up with
things that we shouldn’t and call it
endurance. We even like the way it
hurts. High off their love. Drunk from
their hate and inadequacies.
and we love it the more we suffer.

The truth is, it shouldn’t be this way.
No relationship is or will ever be
perfect, but it’s time for you to look in
the mirror and yell some reassurance
to yourself.
“I Am Enough, And Infinitely Loved
And I Don’t Need To Wait Because
I Am So Worth It Right now. I Am

Ideas are great. They feed our
dreams and keep us motivated. It’s
possible that I’ll one day get a big
House in Lekki, Be CEO of a multinational company and go on vacation arond the world. But what’s better
than that idea? The reality. The
reality of the big house, Dynasty, and more vacation.

It’s possible that he’ll stop demoralizing you with words.
It’s possible that she’ll stop Lying to you and using you for Cash.
It’s possible that he will Call you frequently than necessary.
It’s possible that she’ll stop cheating behind your back.
It’s possible that you don’t have to beg for him/her to love you unconditionally.
But what’s better? The

The reality of freeing yourself
from a toxic situation. We wait on
things to get better, and that’s the
most noble of qualities we have. We
endure. We suffer. But waiting
becomes tolerating at some point, and
the line between the two is
unfortunately quite blurry.
Sometimes we fall in love with ideas
and things we want to happen, rather
than facts and things that are certain.

If you ever want to find that true
happiness that you’re actually worth,
you’ll find a way to break free of that.

Its a Conscious Choice.

This is something I have to tell myself daily.
“I Am Enough, I Am So Worth It”