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Friendship a concept more misconstrued than understood is that which has triggered the action that has brought about this piece. It is that which we claim we are familiar with yet there’s much more to it than meet the eyes. It forms the bulk of diction dished out daily on our usage of vocabulary for every man, woman, boy, girl, aged, young makes use of it as if it is a basic necessity needed for consumption and survival. O yeah! it is indeed needed but it is however not a consumable. It is not a commodity; it has no price tag. It is as good as air. Free of charge yet priceless. Shall we call it a gift? But then are gifts freely given? Well, most times, expectations riddle the minds and hearts of those who give gifts. Friendship, I read somewhere is like the wind. It may not be seen but it is felt all around us. Its presence can be felt intimately like sunrays bathing our rooms through doors and windows. This feeling can also be manifested in the rustling sound that forms the music we

With the speed of snails, we seem to sail into the future yet, speedily today comes and becomes yesterday’s future. Time’s wings flap and carry us all through the thick and thins for what prize? For the prize of that which we’d kill to keep if we have to or die to keep if need be_ our bodies. So fast it seems when we look into our past and how events we’ve anticipated come and have all gone. The word ‘wow! How time flies’ automatically springs out of the vocal cords of our mind’s mouth_ surprised at how with the speed of sun rays and the light it emanates, we crash into the present. It is indeed as swift as one quick swing of a sword in the hands of a great swords’ man. Yet time is too slow when in the present, we crawl into the future’s green, yellow and brown. It is not hard to discern on the evidences of time and life’s journeys as these are manifest on our skin, bones, eyesight, the color of our hair, the way we begin to stutter and sound incoherent, the rate of decline in our l

Once when I was still a pop freak as most youths of my generation were, I was an astute follower and freak of lyrics pouring forth the vocal cords of pop artistes. A rapper of repute known as Curtis Jackson_ 50cent once posited through one of his songs that “death gotta be easy coz life is hard.” This amidst other lyrics got to me so well that I began to see images of dead people rolling on and off so easy like a slide in contrast to how they struggled to live. Words borne out of the speaker’s experience_ an experience that no single person has a monopoly of. Words portraying the fact that life is a struggle. More so, is the fact that for most people, seeing the next moment is a luxury whilst the luxury of some others is not in the witnessing and participation in tomorrow’s events. Their luxury is basking in the acquisition of more wealth whilst in wealth and affluence. The struggle, hustle, toil, sweats and all that which man goes through for what? To what end? To stay alive? Well,

He drove speedily along the reddish brown road probably to attend to one of life’s numerous exigencies. Bathed in a mixture of afternoon winds and sun rays as his motorcycle zoomed effortlessly on the loamy soil. The look on hyis bearded face all riddled with worrying urgency as if the world will end if he fails to reach his destination the next second. Time seemed not to be on his side. As he sped on minding his journey with eyes only for his destination, a toddler bumped into his motorcycle’s fore wheel and lo! with as much instinctive expertize he could muster, the Fulani man managed to get the Igbo boy knocked off while the machine slid on the floor. He ran to the child who was at this time lying lifeless on his father’s land. He exclaimed a painful exclamation. The fear of this had been worn on his face as he may have been thinking, ‘what will happen to me if this child passes on as a result of this accident?’ He was shaken for he is in a land whose people’s hatred for the North