At 12am, I am browsing through social media; stalking, learning, smiling.

Based on a discussion with a friend earlier in the day about a poet, I embark on a mission of finding her, perusing her works and that of others like her. After a night of reading poetry, it is beginning to seem like my mind is experiencing a paradigm shift. You see, my love for poetry is as intense as my love for several other things.

The truth is, I am at it again like the most of us: doubting, wanting to cancel and start afresh, while wondering if we are on the right part. Whether you are a believer of reinventing oneself and juggling it all together or you think pursuing a single goal/ following a single part consistently until success, no qualms at all. Just ensure you know what you are about and have taken time to study and understand the process.

Although, mine is  the case of the multi talented. How I had gone  from wanting to be linguist, engineer, air hostess, project manger etc. and even now, continue to juggle between passion and ambition,
the knowledge that even if things can be easily grasped by me, not everything can and need to be done by me has not eluded my senses. This has involved lots of beginning anew, albeit uncomfortable so. But thanks to guidance from ( mentors and friends) every refurbished efforts has been worth it.
So, narrowing down what I want to do, sticking with them, daring to  call myself a writer and putting my words out there can all be termed few of my biggest wins this year. Overcoming the fear of being thought “not good enough”, that too was a win.

All in all, I think we are on this path to make a difference by attending to a need or  few of them, not everything. As the year winds down, I am struggling to count my blessings, applaud my small efforts, encourage myself, you should do same.
If you recount every little detail of pain and setbacks, don’t you think you should applaud every big or small headway made this year? search well, it is there.
And whether you believe in new year resolutions or not, this holiday affords you the opportunity to count your blessings and losses even, while re-strategising.

Because what really counts is that as the clock strikes 1st January, you should hit the ground running; whether you start from today or wait till the 1st of January, just start.
I hope 2018 becomes the year you hoped and prayed for.
A year of smashing goals and breaking barriers,
thanksgiving and breakthrough.

“What the new year brings to you will depend a great deal on what you bring to the new year.” -vern McLellan

Cheers to another year in advance!

 Categories : Insights, Inspiration, Narratives Posted by Henrietta Ogu  , , , , , , ,  2 Comments



The colour of my punctured heart,
The colour of my rage,
The colour of his cosy room where memories were made (a wine-reddish hue),
The colour of her blood flowing freely on the cement floor after the accident.

Let me explain.
you see, what they say are lies. I had no hand in her untimely demise-well I do have a hand, but she had it coming.
She was my friend, what you would call BFF (best friend forever). We did what good friends do together: help each other, cry, plan, shop, played, dined on cheap win and pizzas and even prayed together.

This best friend of mine cheated with my man. She chose him out of them all, was it to punish me or simply fate I wondered. I found out 6 month afterwards and confronted her to which she replied with no remorse in her eyes “these things happen Adaora”.

So, I went home crying in the enclosure of my mind-plotting revenge.

For months afterwards, I wished her blood on a slab, not once did I wish him the same fate, the love of mine who would not say no.
Then, one hot afternoon garbed in my fury and armed  with a hammer and a screw, I embarked on a journey of revenge while she was away. I did what I did with her car.


She had a fatal accident afterwards and did not make it. So here I am hands in chain, being punished for acting in place of  karma. Perhaps I shouldn’t have embarked on  this terrible revenge of mine. well, the deed has been done.

As they lead me away-the uniformed enforcers of justice, my eyes meet his-the lady-killer! for a brief moment I contemplate how my revenge was done all wrong. Two humans  should be lying lifeless there (him and her), their blood flowing freely and intertwined in pain-the sort of pain they caused me. Only then will I believe this death sentence of life imprisonment is deserved.

-Flash Fiction

P.S. This write up was inspired by a class at the Lagos international poetry festival (LIPF), where the importance of women taking a unified front was stressed. If a man cheats on his woman with her friend or anyone for that matter, Shouldn’t the questions and anger be directed towards him firstly? it was him whoh broke your trust.
To see ladies fighting over a man who is hardly bothered, is a sorry sight.

Do not let my mama read this, hence I do be sitting at mass for 40 days and 40 nights, even though this is purely fiction.

I hope you have a Christmas devoid of bloodshed; but encompassing all your deepest, good, innermost desires and cravings.

Do you think same or otherwise? do let me know in the comment section.

 Categories : Narratives, Uncategorized Posted by Henrietta Ogu  , , , ,  No Comments


How to Survive

SURVIVAL: Taking in the sun; giving out water, taking in the pain; composing songs, rising from the setbacks; gently tending yourself back to strength.
From the ashes of nothingness, a new life will emerge. So you must walk on still; with a lit countenance, a hopeful heart and a brave smile.
This is how you may Survive.

She lay there in a comatose state, immobile after the tragic accident willing the life out of her body.
It had been a turbulent couple of years, the tide constantly turning against her and now, this accident to crown it all. She heard the voice of the doctor filtering in:
“Madam”! He addressed her mother, “her chance of survival is slim”.
Slim indeed! She sighed inaudibly.
And then she heard another voice;

the voice of her mother. The soothing, calm voice that increases to a shrill or becomes canorous depending on the message it intended to convey. This same voice now called out to her in teary and prayerful tones.
Imploring her to survive

But there she Lay, willing the breath out of her body. If only she could convince herself to stay alive; first for her, then for others.
A third voice came through
This voice was clear and distinct, the origin of which she could not fathom. Some say, it is the voice of reason.

This voice spoke to her in hushed tones; reminding her of  stories not yet lived, her part yet uncharted, the possibilities of a new and better chapter, and the probability that her best life was still ahead.
Willing her to survive

“Why do we live and die, having never truly lived

In one feeble attempt at survival, she raised a wobbly hand, it held for a moment. She whispered one single word “water”! In response, everyone in the room broke into a scurry of happy feet; a nurse hurrying to get water, another checking her vitals, her mother and sibling clasping her hands and praying in happy voices.

Perhaps this attempt at survival is worth it after all, she smiled, drifting slowly to sleep.

This is how you may survive.

 Categories : Insights, Inspiration, Narratives, Poems Posted by Henrietta Ogu  , , , , , , ,  2 Comments

Get the latest posts directly delivered to your inbox: