Tag Archives: boomiebol

Friday Fictioneers: Memories of Madam and Mustapha


I stared at the picture, and my mind went to Nigeria, Lagos to be precise…

Mustapha at the gate waiting for madam to return…

It was 6:15 pm and she wasn’t back…

Mustapha peered through the gates for the 100th time… “She for don reach house now” he said to himself in Pidgin English marked with a heavy Hausa accent…

If she didn’t return before 8pm…it wouldn’t happen…

Honk, Honk

Mustapha sighed with relief and opened the gate…madam locked eyes with him as her Peugeot drove into compound…

Swiftly Mustapha went under the arches into a room…madam’s feet in subtle but steady pursuit…

They had about an hour before Oga returned…


Glossary of terms

Oga: Master

“She for don reach house now”: she should have been home now

Hausa: Northern tribe in Nigeria.

This week’s offering for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Ms. Rochelle


Cooking Food


    It is the simplicity therein

    The joy that comes from cooking food
    The love that goes into eating food
    Sometimes it is the other way around
    The love that goes into cooking food
    The joy that comes from eating food

    A Short Story


    Dolly had to find a way to leave. She had been with Craig for two weeks after the reconciliation, and she could now see that there was no use. He was never going to be the man she met in college six years prior. Something had happened to Craig, something that had changed him into a monster.

    Craig and Dolly, first met in their junior year in college, Dolly had just transferred in from the local community college, and Craig had the pleasure of doing new students orientation that morning. It was love at first glance…at least for Craig…Dolly, not so much. She didn’t even notice him past the fact that he was conducting the orientation. Nothing about Craig appealed to Dolly, until later that night.

    There was a party in town hosted by Dolly’s good friend, Ben. Ben happened to be buddies with Craig who was also invited to the party. Craig never left Dolly’s side the entire night, and one month later, they were a couple.

    Dolly and Craig were practically inseparable, and rightly so. There love was made for the storybook covers, they were a perfect couple, beautiful, strong together, and they very well complimented each other. Craig was a psychology major, and Dolly was pre-medical student. They were two peas in a pod, a beautiful on campus couple that everyone aspired to be like. Craig showered Dolly every chance he got, and it seemed like it was every day, many thanks to his wealthy parents inherited fortune. Dolly dotted over her charming man like a mother would on her new born child…they loved each other and it showed.

    Dolly, didn’t understand why it all went wrong…two years into their marriage and Craig turned cold…he wouldn’t look at her, let alone touch her…he wouldn’t even talk to her in the house. Things came to a screeching halt however, when he slapped her for asking him a question…Dolly fell to the ground as the impact of Craig slap thundered across her soft cheeks…hot tears streamed down and seared her face.

    She moved out 3 days later…

    Family pleaded on Craig’s behalf and when Dolly found she was pregnant, a result of his drunken sexual encounter one late night in December, after the Christmas holidays at their in-laws on the coast. Dolly had to go back to her husband. She hoped for the baby’s sake that it all would work out for the best, but to her surprise, Craig played nice for three days and then he turned cold again. Without any chance to figure out what was going on, Dolly spent most of her time at work…taking every schedule and work load that was thrown at her.

    It didn’t matter anymore, she will work her pain and sorrows away or so she thought…until that late spring dusk at work, when she saw the news…work could no longer be her refuge…her life was about to change forever…

    Her unborn baby kicked in agreement…



    Tuesdays are no different from Monday…They are in fact Monday holding on in disguise
    Then there’s Wednesday, mid-week….She makes you feel good like you are almost there
    Except there’s still Thursday…dragging like a whore’s cigarette smoke…
    But Friday makes it all better…if you are lucky…its pay day play day
    But somehow Saturday is always only a few hours…five at the most….
    For Sunday fun day soon comes and goes like lightning speed…
    And in no time, Monday is back on the horizon…Holding on for too long
    Two days in a row…Disguising its second attempt as Tuesday.

    12/17/14 2:59pm
    © Boomiebol2014

    Because you are…



    I love you dear daughters

    Because you are mine

    For so many reasons I could never explain

    Because you are mine

    Because you are fine

    Because you are fast

    Because you are blasts

    Because you are loud

    Because you are round

    Because you are shy

    Because you are smiles

    I love you dear daughters

    Because you are mine

    For so many reasons I cannot contain

    Because you are whole

    Because you are gold

    Because you are bold

    Because you are so

    Because you are joy

    Because you are fun

    Because you are noise

    Because you are bliss

    I love you dear daughters

    Again and again

    For so many reasons I don’t even know

    Because you are mine

    Because you are ours

    Because you are us

    Because you are more

    I love you dear daughters

    I will say it again

    Because you are love

    Because you are joy

    Because you are you

    Because you are true

    My most perfect truth

    9/2/2014 3:51pm



    The truth about myself: A story on self-hate



    I am learning to accept myself
    But I hate my stretch marks
    And the irritation they often cause
    Although they are reminders of a joy that now completes me
    I am learning to accept myself
    But I hate my small boobs
    And the big thighs that rub too
    Although they make me look good in blue jeans
    I still can’t wear short shorts
    Or skintight dark jeans
    I am learning to accept myself
    But I hate my big butt
    And the way it pops out of every dress and begging always to be seen
    Although it frames me in pencil skirts
    And long gowns that flow in summer’s sun
    I am learning to accept myself
    But I can’t stand the thoughts
    That my legs are marked with spots and dots
    Hanging thick in black boots
    And falling short with mini skirts
    Although I must confess they carry me far
    On long walks and fast runs
    And my dainty toes sure look good in flats and such
    I am learning to accept myself
    But my hair sheds at the sight of comb
    And itches from the root up
    Although they are as dark as late nights and
    Fall fine to cover my freckled face
    I am learning to accept myself

    © Boomiebol 2014
    5/17/2014 9:38am