The Inter House Sport: Creating Good Memories

My mother's birthday is coming up and so this goes out for her. She would often tell us stories when she was younger, how she hawked, the people that called her as well the lads, and her plights to shine, be among the best. I am glad to say that I hawk for some time while in Nigeria, it would still be among the best experiences I have. And Happy Birthday Mother

Fallen Well

I’ll write this one.

I like to imagine that she had fallen well

And that she laughed a lot, giggle around. I imagined

her tales trailing around sidewalks, to hawk, to collect

I would say that she had met some lads by roadsides

and had gone on to insult them as she would fantasize

I imagined her selling, aje e wo'gba

I imagined her casting her spells trough her treks, her many

surrenders to catcalls. And her overlook other times.

I imagine her loving the works she was given. Fallen atimes

And her bosoms matching the rhythms of her walks,

Her strides, my birth’s, my sister’s births’, my brother’s

I imagine my love for her began as I realized the works, she

had done. Her adventures I could only pen, ink

I imagined that I wouldn’t throw them out.

I always thought of her as lucky, and she would retort-

you are luckier.

But I wish I get to trek all those sidewalks, planes, roads

dangerous walks- roads.

I do have my own share of runs from catcalls and chases

but I said, she was luckier.

I wish I had the trays on my scalp- I expected that
I would have had a favorite one

I imagined, imagined, and I know

She must have fallen well

Well fallen. Lucky.

Her well is full