The Thing I Never Told You

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The Thing I Never Told You I have kept this secret for eleven years. Eleven years of laughing with you at parties, of being the first person you called when things went wrong, of sitting across from you at that small suya spot on Allen Avenue where we always ordered the same thing. Eleven years of knowing that the version of me you loved was built, in part, on a lie. Let me start from the beginning. Chidi and I met in 2009 at a cramped cybercafé in Surulere. We were both second-year students at UNILAG, both broke, both pretending we weren't. He was printing an assignment he hadn't started yet, and I was watching him spiral into quiet panic, and something about that made me laugh. Not at him — just at the whole situation. The absurdity of it. He looked at me, and then he laughed too, and that was it. That fast. That simple. By our final year, Chidi was the person I trusted most in the world. More than my brothers. More, honestly, than myself. In 2013, we both applied ...
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My Father's Goat...(Poem)

My Father's Goat:



My father's goat
The most troublesome goat I've ever seen.

It eats its shares
And tries to tamper with our own too.

I remember when I was young
And my mother was strong .

She served me my share
And my father's goat its own.

The goat finished its share
And made its way down my place.

It gored me at the back
And down I fell.

It took over my meal
And left me to cry.

Oh my meal!
My delicious meal!

Mum ran down to help
But my meal had gone down the drain.

She hit the goat hard
And away it ran.

She took me by the hand
And up I stood.

She wiped my tears
And sat me down.

She let out a shout
And here it goes
What a goat!
Oh my God!

It's my father's goat
The domestic terrorist
Who terrorised my life
In my father's house.

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The Thing I Never Told You

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