Thursday, August 30, 2007

how old is the danfo driver?

Happy birthday to me!

I am grateful to my creator, the author and finsher of my faith,

The One who guides me and loves me despite all my flaws.

He is my source, my strength, my all.

I am grateful to be alive to see today,

I am grateful for who I am and the potentials I have,

I am grateful for the blessed family that I have,

(Oh! you need to have heard my mother's prayers for me this morning)

I am grateful for the friends God has blessed me with, am indeed blessed among men.

I am grateful for my colleagues and place of work, though this week was particularly tough for me, but am here, better wiser, stronger.

I am grateful for the danfo drivers across Lagos, lets hope this new BRT lane in Lagos works, it should make business better for us.

I am grateful for the blogfam I have, some of whom have become very good friends of mine.

I thank all those who called, sent me gifts, cards, messages...etc. I am grateful.

I am grateful for everything, Happy Birthday to me.

PS. I am still accepting gifts.

Monday, August 20, 2007


I am thankful to be alive.
Most importantly,I thank God for the life of my brother,
Who was caught inthe middle of the armed robbery saga inKetu on friday.

Details later, get to get back to work!

Update: I cannot even begin to recount the story like he told me, but something has to be done about the security in Lagos. The robbers according to my brother were very young, as young as 18 and 19. Their weapons were nothing to compare to the police toy guns. He ran to police station for "safety" but it was a bad idea,he was almost killed there and the station was razeddown, am just grateful that his life was spared because people were killed right in front of him. It so scary and sad.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Rejoinders to lost's return.

In response to my poem - Lost's return,
My poetry partner Lost wrote a rejoinder

It’s the evening,
The neighbors are gone now
The music has gone quiet
The celebrations are over
Its just us now…
Mama and I

She looks at me.
I look away.
She reaches for me.
I pull away.
She remains.
I stop.
I reach for her.
I stop.
I am not the son she lost,
I think.
I am not the boy she missed…the one that left.
The one she loved.Would she love,
the one that came,
In place of the one she lost?
It’s the evening,
The neighbors are gone now…But the questions remain.

And Blacktinkerbell,
wrote a rejoinder to his,

Mama's Love
My son has come,
returned from the dead.
My back has been bent
bent double with the weight of my prayers
My heart lightens
the burden tumbles down
Years restored;
which I thought were lost
In the midst of rejoicing,I see
see a new light in his eyes
the warrior who left me
he's returned a broken man
his lips tremble,
his eyes dart to and fro
in unguarded moments,
cold steel creeps into his touch
he is not right, he is not the same
As the night lightens into morn
with the first call of the cockerel,
I slip into his room
I call his name,
look into his eyes
lay his head upon my breast,
mama knows all, mama's love will heal.

Beautiful pieces.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Native Language

Why do some Nigerians think that speaking and teaching their children, their native language is razz?

As long as it doesn't affect their spoken English, whats wrong?

Is speaking Pidgin razz too? I particularly love the waffy dialect of pidgin.

Someone please educate me!

Tuesday, August 7, 2007

Lost's return

Today, Mama is rejoicing,
Singing and dancing,
Praying and crying,
Her eyes simply cannot believe it,
This is a greater gift than money,
Far sweeter than honey,

Today mama is celebrating,
That which caused her agony,
now suddenly brings her relief,
She is beside herself,
hands on her head,
hands on her chest,
hands together in the air,
God has answered her only prayer,
She thought this was a dead matter.

Clap, mama,clap
Dance, mama, dance,
Your dance is the prologue,
to the never ending chorus.
Let her bask in this reverie,
10 oceans cannot contain her floods of joy,
Nothing , noone can stop her,
From embracing her son,
The first fruit of her womb,
Who had been missing for years and years,
Everyone was assured that death had eaten him up,
A child dead, is better than a child lost,
But mama held on and kept her hopes up,

Her only son, her first born has returned,
beat the gong,play the drum
This festival has just begun.

© Omohemi Benson, All rights reserved.

This is for lost, I await your response.

Monday, August 6, 2007


Marianne Williamson

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.It is our Light, not our Darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you NOT to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightening about shrinking so that other people won't feel unsure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. As we let our own Light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

First heard this from the film Coach carter and then Akeelah and the bee, two brilliant films,but one beautiful powerful phrase,that inspires me daily. Read it again, onTminx blog today and smiled.

Thursday, August 2, 2007

The collaspe of the Mississippi bridge

Today, I heard about the collaspe of the Mississippi bridge, please read here for more details.
I couldnot help but think about our own third mainland bridge.

May God console the families of the those who lost there lives on the bridge.

Read yesterday of some prisoners in the phillppines who dance to pop as their morning routine.
will this ever happen in our prisons? If yes? When?
Please click on the link here to watch them dance, very interesting.

Wednesday, August 1, 2007


In exactly 29 days from now,
It will be my birthday,
so am giving blogsville enough notice,
Why? because I want gifts!
not just calls and messages, but beautiful gifts.

Mark the 30th of August in your diary, phone, whatever and start planning on what to give me.
no excuses, just gifts!