Lydia Aremu
A teacher and single mother of two top-of-the-world, awesome kids.
Member Since: 1 year ago
I Trained My Child
I Trained My Child The outright denial and defense of children's misbehavior by parents never cease to amaze me. "My son would never say that!" one parent once yelled at a colleague. Another time, a parent looked me straight in the eye and demanded, "Are you calling my daughter a liar?" Unfortunately, such experiences have drained my enthusiasm for teaching to the point where I’ve become numb to the unacceptable behavior of students in my school. Where common-sense disciplinary measures shoul...
Love to Single Moms
Salute to You, Single Moms It started like a lie, then became a reality needing no convincing. "He's gone," I yelled at you, "It was your fault!" Hopes dashed, childhood dreams destroyed. You grieved—love and hate tangled in your heart, a silent war between your mind and soul. But there was me. You couldn’t hate me for his sins—or mine. I remember how you held me at night, your tears falling, a quiet storm of hurt and healing. I heard your whispers, "Lord, what am I ...
Child slavery, child labour, child rights, child victim!
Abdulahi Oblivious of the condition in, Slave to an unseen entity, A creation of a perverse innocence in, Abdulahi’s reality. I, the helper, ashamed Of my helplessness Onlooker to the ‘shamed’ Abdulahi’s helplessness. Scrapping burnt rice, Washed in soupy, oily water, A shiny skull keeps away the lice, Abdulahi’s matter. In all, the smiles stop not, Whitish melanin under rags, Peanuts earned saved in a knot, Abdulahi’s mother brags. I, the helper, pointless, Pointless to do rig...
My Happy February Birthday!
"When was I born?" My almond eyes flicker in pure joy. "February 26th." "I am almost a 29th." Chuckling, "It wasn't a leap year." "Ooooh, I WISH I was a 29th." "Why?" "I would have been ageing 4 years slower than others." The thundering outburst of laughter I have ever heard. Neverminding The jest didn't kill my high spirit. 'Cause it is Valentine's month. The exhilarating Valentine's frenzies. Love... Romance... Red roses... Flowers... Gift cards... Bright red outfits. Yes, I was the true prin...
To the Unheroic Cancer
Hope... Utmost faith in hope Keeps faith in the ongoing narrative About a demon with no relative 'Heroic' conquest of innocent bodies? Corrosive invasion of young and old bodies? The hurt, the horrors Loved ones disappearing in mirrors. We won't idolize your feat. We hope to kill you on your feet. The true heroes, Are the relentless ones who fight your woes. Till the very end of you, Endless is our battles for the believable end of you. #poetry
A Jailed Liberation!
A long envy, Women's movement, Like a cocooned larvae, First for better involvement. Of course, it started. The feminine hope firstly, voting rights carted, Initial win on the tip of the rope. Politics, the peculiar roughest farm field. Participants armed on caterpillars, Inglorious is the battlefield. Survivalists hold on to pillars. And the few dear percentaged women, Dare to be on the battlefield? An unfavourable frontier for domesticated women, Survivalists, like callanetics, on modelled...
To the Young Ghosts by Insecurities!
Even after... Like a seedling, We cut down your innocence. Our excuses still lie On speculations From the decaying webby system Rotting into our bones. I guess you must watching Our incessant nuisance as a nation. As usual, we only talk. But you have escaped the rot The unfathomable corruption I must say, On behalf of a nation Whose promises end on lips, I shamefully say, We failed you. I must say, We are sorry. #poetry #lydia
Once again, adulthood is a scam.
OCTOBER BEFORE 40 Doom’s month rush, inapt and abrupt, sits, Like unending gold rush for deposits, Overwhelming chaotic mental pic, Aided by unexplainable pique. Alas, my fears of failure sinking. “Oh! When will I achieve.” Mind clinking. In uneasiness, “For a thousandth time, work with wits And be calm my spirits.” Time, the straight-faced judge, A foe to none, holds no grudge, And cannot sieve all lost slots; Hand them back like desired thoughts. Childhood memories are tr...
Rhymes and Rhythm
Misty Morning Grandma On a rocker, swaying rickety sounds; Peeling melon seeds, with frail but surprisingly swift fingers, Sitting on the veranda facing east, thick foggy grassy grounds, Grandma smiles when the morning mist lingers. At 10, the sun shines brighter showing crystal leaves on the shrubbery fields, Pleasant scent of dew on the earth and the grand green grassy guilds, Pale blue sky with white patches of clouds like scattered shields, Grandma smiles brighter when the sun gazes out...
Smiling is infectious
Smiling is infectious, You catch it like the flu. When someone smiled at me today I started smiling too. #JezAlborough
"African Music Unbound - ‘The Waters of Africa"
Odo Oba River of ancient ancestry Of a King, queens and deities, Betrayal of innocent love – An ill act to once a crystal beauty. Rightful by the legitimate flow There’s the known anguish in lustful love Tacts and coins of polygamy The saline power of women’s cove. Old rooted rivalry and jealousy Of the strongest cresting thievery Domestic love bore channels to An unending tempestuous war. Cheated and depraved outrightly, Splitting to the serene left low tide Left from ...
Can you believe it? #Nigerian roads #unityinNigerianfootball
A Driver’s Ordeal Incapacitating and ugly, A marvelous stress trigger, The roads - paradise? The roads - hell, Rough was an understatement. I hoped the mechanic fixed it. My fear of a reoccurrence The trip’s events. Car fainted In the middle of nowhere Next town 22km away. Being a Nigerian driver was tough. I recounted. But my mind that day, was on the football match. If I could make it before 4pm. Just if … Better a viewing centre, chauvinistic centre, liquor, male smell centre. But...
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