Tag Archives: stories

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


Friday Fictioneers: His Music


Image courtesy of Jan W. FieldsIMG_7855
I think his music will do them good…It flows from his beautiful mind to his fingers.

The serene melodic notes take us all to a place…A place of harmonious gratitude

Where mindless worries cease and burdens lift… I know his music will do them good…

Just watch them feel every bit of it…

So sad, he has never seen the impact of his talent…

PS: Happy New Year! I am hoping I can be as consistent as possible with writing this year. We shall see :).

Please feel to comment and critique kindly :).

Anniversary Giveaway


It seems only like yesterday when I grew an extra set of balls and decided to birth this baby. In about a week or so (2/17/13), my blog will be 1 and being the “profound” thinker that I am, I have been reflecting over the past year, and what this space means to me. The journey of this blog has been eye opening, exciting, and challenging to say the least. It has been absolute FUN, and brought such growth to me and my abilities as an aspiring writer.

I have God, and you all to thank for that. In all my deep profound thinking, I thought since I like celebrations (I really am like a 5 year old when my birthday is a few days away), I thought I’d start the upcoming anniversary celebration with a giveaway….YAY!!! HURRAY!!! Giveaways are the best…even though I never win anything :). But it’s not about me winning; this is about you winning a special gift from moi. (A humble thank you of sorts)

Here’s the catch…you must follow me on twitter, like my Facebook page on the right hand corner…and in a few words tell me how my blog has impacted you in the past year…(I have to make you work for it right?). There are so many wonderful readers of this blog, and I really wish I was Oprah right now, so I could give each and every one of you a car or something but…well you know I am not, and I can’t.

The giveaway is open from now till Friday the 15th of February 2013…THANKS TO YOU ALL SO MUCH.

Love &Light
Boomie Bol

The Duke’s Cellos- Friday Fictioneers 1/11


Friday fictioneers courtesy of Ms. Rochelle is on, and I am a tad early. This week’s image is courtesy of Roger Cohen. Comments, and constructive criticisms are very much appreciated, and please feel free to participate…there are amazing and uniquely different interpretations to the pictures each week. THANKS ALWAYS FOR STOPPING BY!!!

Image courtesy of Roger Cohen

Image courtesy of Roger Cohen

The Duke of Elgin liked music and invested in all manner of instruments…so it was no surprise when his once betrothed and now darling wife of 3 years left him for the Italian Cello player Antonio, who visited their countryside manor daily, to teach his highness how to play…Rumor around town is that the Duke was not much of a lover in the bedroom where all his musical treasures including 2 prized heirloom cellos stood…

His wife, Eleanor’s first carnal encounter with Antonio was right there in that bedroom when his highness was on Diplomatic assignment in Milan…his beloved Cellos watched as silent witnesses…

Another Seductive Sunday


I pulled the blueberry cheesecake from the fridge and poured some chilled adult chocolate milk in the ice filled glasses. The mood felt right, as I waltzed my way slowly and seductively towards the stereo and my surprise guest.

Tonight was supposed to be a lonely night but a text message had changed the day’s course, now Sunday was feeling like it should again. I walked past my guest and hesitated for a brief second…as he took in the scent of my Chanel no 5. I continued slowly towards the stereo smiling mischievously,swaying my hips back and forth as naughty thoughts danced around in my head.

I pressed play on the stereo; and tilted my head back ever so gently as the sounds of Marvin Gaye’s sexual healing resonated through the room. A loud rumble somewhere out in the sky made me chuckle quietly…Rain or not, tonight there was going to be a shower…I felt his hands around my waist;and collapsed slowly into his warm embrace, as another magical Sunday began to unfold…first my neck…then…

I smile now in retrospect, as I replay the past hour or so in my head and I can’t help but whipser silently to the Heavens…thankful for another seductive Sunday.

Untitled: Still I Write.


My first attempt at writing anything was at age 13, it was a poem, (Universal Woman). It was written for my secondary school principal, the now late Rev Sr. Cecilia Adeniran. It was her birthday and I thought to give her a gift, and so I wrote the poem.

I don’t know where the words came from, but they were honestly magical; it celebrated the power of being a woman regardless of our profession, or color. It talked about a woman’s strength. She liked it a lot and I remember her telling the vice principal that I had written a wonderful poem for her, fortunately I had given one to the vice principal as well, it was titled (woman). They both liked it. After that, I started writing poems, notes and anything that came to my mind. Unfortunately on march 17 1994, I lost those poems along with everything my family owned in a fire that destroyed our home. I stopped writing.

16 years and the birth of my twin girls later, I wrote again (A mother’s simple reflections). I haven’t stopped since…I don’t intend to ever stop again. In some ways, when i am writing i feel like that 13 year old girl again, at peace and calm. Expressing my thoughts through words that sometimes just seem to come. I am no Maya Angelou, or Robert Louis Stevenson, but I know that some words come to me and they go beyond my own human intelligence, or comprehension of words, that I feel the need to express and document them. I know I have to write. Sometimes it’s a hit, other times it not. But the great thing for me is that I continue to write. Who knows what it would bring?