Who Am I?

Who am I? That has got to be one of the most difficult questions to answer. One wonders whether one should answer with one's name, one's profession, one's status in life...

It is basically supposed to be the complete embodiment of who one is.

I attempted to answer the question as part of a blog series that my friend hooked me up with. This piece was originally published on Opinion's Utopia. I hope you enjoy reading it.

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Who Am I?

I am Yoruba 

Deep, rich and cultural. The heritage passed on to me from my parents will not be left to waste. With my knees darkened from constantly scraping the ground in humility and obeisance, I proudly bear carry my history within my soul. A wellspring from the fountain of Oduduwa, my culture teaches me to embrace hard work. The ability to know right from wrong, the vision to see that which is true and real. 

I am Passion 

 Fiercely protective and emotional, I am energy and life. I have an unending desire to do more, to be more. I strive for a better tomorrow. Constantly seeking to push the boundaries, I glow with the passion of my cause.

I am Loyalty

Faithful and diligent, I stick closer than a brother. I’ll hug you close and never let go. Allowing the warmth of my heart radiate through my smile, I’m here to catch you when you fall. Crying with you when you are sad, wiping your brow when you’re ill and slapping sense into you when you need it.

I am Short 

My height or lack of it is my shield and my sword. I am constantly reminded that life is about choices. I choose to wear my height with pride. Not standing higher than my 5ft frame my spirit soars far above skyscrapers.

I am Music 

One with music. It flows through me and reminds me of a better place. Restoring my faith in humanity, the sound flows through my veins. I allow the harmony and the rhythm of sound soothe me. The soft thud of the drums, the delightful chords from the violins forming the beautiful essence of my soul.

I am Love 

Striving to be everything Christ asks, loving every one as He loved us. Constantly reminded of my imperfection, I look up to the author and finisher of my faith. To the One who keeps me from falling, He keeps me grounded safe within his love. He is with me, and I am with him.

I am Air

Whimsical and delightful, I understand that life is fleeting. So when my journey ends and I am no more, I want to be remembered with a smile. One as bright as the one I constantly wear. I want to be celebrated for being a happy person. I want memories of me to only be good ones because like air, my time here should have counted for something.

I am Atoke Ena 

Nurtured for cherish and care from the homestead of warriors deep in the heart of Ogbomosho.

Atoke's Savoury Soup Bowls

Someone did this ad for me last year. I never got it out there. 

In retrospect now the pictures look rather somehow as I have better pictures now but.... :D It was great!

Shout out to Shaf for doing this.

For Aroyeun

On Thursday the 7th of February 2013, my friend passed away. I wrote something for him on my column Atoke's Monday Morning Banter on BellaNaija. It was published on the 11th of February.
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How do you write a banter piece when your heart is in shreds? How do you dig deep into yourself and write a funny, light-hearted piece on a Monday morning when you’ve been walking in a cloud of hurt, confusion and grief for the past 4 days?

I had just finished writing the BN Hot Topic on Thursday morning when I received a text message that my friend had passed on.  Shock? Is that what I felt? I don’t know. I can’t completely describe what I felt in that moment.  He’d been ill you see, with what the doctors had said was terminal but no amount of fore-knowledge prepares you for that which hits you. So I said to myself “he’s gone to a place where there’s no more pain, no more visits to the A&E, no more drugs. He’s gone to a place of peace”

But you see, as much as I said this to myself, my tears didn’t stop flowing.

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine oh! He’s in a better place” Like a robot, I’ve been responding, partly to get people to stop asking and partly because I know it’s true. 

“Focus on the happy memories. Don’t think about him in past tense. Write. If it’ll make you feel better, write”

So, I’m doing  just that.  My friend, Muyiwa, always  made me laugh. When I was in Law School, we would talk for hours on the phone about anything and everything. We shared a love for Lagbaja’s music  and we’d argue for hours; him constantly bashing  Nigeria as a failed state and me trying feebly to defend it. He would doggedly defend his religious belief and constantly call me a baby Christian, content on feeding on just milk. I’d call him “Paitor” and he’d call me “Omo’jo”. He called me razz, I said he was a fake guy!

I love Muyiwa with all of my heart. I haven’t come to terms with the use of past tense.  I’m not sure I ever will because he’d forever be the personification of love, devotion and strength.  As he battled the illness, we’d chat endlessly. There was NOT one time when he gave up the fight and boy did he FIGHT. When a man in his 30s is diagnosed with a terminal illness, he goes through different stages of acceptance and not once did Muyiwa throw in the towel. He’d tell me when he was delirious with pain and when he was strong enough to ogle the nurses. He’d share his fears and his pains but not once did he lose sight of positivity.

As I got on the train to see him in over the holidays, I was afraid that I’d see a weak and frail person so I braced myself for it. I was determined to be strong for him and be as cheery as possible. When I got to the door of the house, I nearly reeled back in shock.  He had become darker and looked years beyond his age.

“Lord, how will I NOT start bawling?” 

I spent almost 9 hours there and not once did I cry. I spent the day laughing and joking with my friend. He ate, slept, watched TV and it was a great day.

“I love you very much, you know?” He said to me in a voice that was barely audible as he fought the morphine-induced sleep.

“I love you too, Roy”

You see, love is such a powerful drug:  that pure, true and un-adultered love; the kind that makes you give your all without question.  It is one emotion that I am thankful that I have experienced. It is one thing that I always pray that more people will share because it truly makes the world a better place. It is one emotion which needs to be constantly expressed AND shown in order for it to be effective.

So as you celebrate Valentine ’s day this week, and as you go out to buy those gifts for that special somebody, remember that love is a lifetime feeling. It’s not limited to that one day but something that must constantly be expressed and shown. Love should be true and real because you really don’t know how much time you have left.

It doesn’t matter if you’ve been hurt before, it is an emotion that is so powerful that with it, we really can change the world.

Tell someone you love them today, show them how much you care and believe it.

Love, peace and cupcakes.

Toodles!

*This Monday Morning’s Banter is dedicated to my Booskie, Baba Esie; Olumuyiwa Aroyeun Oyewunmi. For every lesson you taught me, for encouraging me to do more and be more, for being there to fight with, for being there to share new music with, for being my friend over and over.  I ‘love you jeje, love you tender’.

The 5-Petal Rose

I found this in my email. I wrote it 4 years ago and honestly, reading it again today made me wonder if I was high on something cheap.

LOL

I hope you like it.


A beauty so rare so true
One that reaches and touches the soul
Its fragrance so subtle, so captivating
Its prickly pain yet ever so sharp

I hold on to its stem, 
Seeking  something more
How much longer am I supposed to sacrifice
One after the other
The petals keep dropping,

Companionship
Selflessness
Security
Warmth
Love

I do not want to watch 
I struggle for a firmer grip
wondering if im doing right

This beautiful flower of mine,
nourished and cherished.
I cling yet i bleed
My caramel skin
glistens in the moonlight
The tears i shed 

Nurture it with me, my love
tend this rare thing we share
I do not want to watch it die
but it seems I alone can not make it live


My 5-petalled Rose

Boko Haram- Sunday Sunday Malaise

I’m tired of everything about Nigeria. Really and truly. I hate the ignorance of our people the most.
If you read my blog you would know that I am a God lover, worshipper, fearer, believer… but I HATE organized religion. With a PASSION> I hate the way we carry on like we’re better than the next person because we have been born into a certain cocoon. Christians teaching their kids to hate muslims, Southerners telling the next generation that the Northerners are of the devil… arghh it kills me.
I read a blog tonight and I had to share it with as wide an audience as possible.
Please read it, understand it, enjoy it, then share it.
http://rinsola.wordpress.com/2012/06/18/boko-haram-muslim-army/
We need to kill ignorance ASAP. So many people are thriving on the fact that we’re not united as a result of ignorance and greed. Let’s put them to shame today.

Been Long Since You Saw Me

I just discovered Windows Live Writer and hence, why I’ve found my way back here.

It’s been such a long time and I feel like doing my best Wande Coal impression and scream “Been Long You Saw Me”. I sha added “since” in my own title because I think Wande gbagauned in that his own song title.

Hmm so I know I should be here writing about how my book is at the second stage of proof reading blah blah blah but this is not so. In my months of joblessness I have been extremely busy… not writing oh.. cooking. Well you see when a person quits their job with plenty plenty lofty dreams of chasing their passion it appears they forget slightly that they have to eat, or buy credit or even fuel their car. It wasn’t like I forgot oh, I had a plan I just didn’t realise that running your own business would be that physically exhausting.

So I started Atoke’s Kitchen and basically what we do (ok I’m saying ‘we’ so you’d think I have a string of people working for me…but the entirety of our staff strength is here typing this post) is cook soup. All sorts of soup. Oha, Okazi, Okra, egusi, Efo riro.. name it… soups and we deliver it to your doorstep. Let me not lie to you… it  is mad exhausting because in Nigeria doing ANY kind of business sucks. Why? NEPA! because there’s never light I can’t store food so any time I get an order I have to go to the market early in the morning, the come back to cook and then do the delivery myself. As much as I love cooking I must say that it is HARD work and the work isn’t in the cooking itself oh.. it’s in the preparation of the ingredients for cooking. The profit margin is also not that wide such that I’d employ someone (even though I doubt I’d allow someone else cook because I like my food a particular way and I doubt if any one else can do it as I want) anyway so I coasted along on the profits from Atoke’s Kitchen for 3 months… not sure where salvation would come from, always too exhausted from the day’s activities to even write. My friends would constantly remind me “ you didn’t quit your job to cook oh” I remembered na but did any of them offer to fuel my car and I said NO? Lol but I trudged on. Then in the middle of all this struggling for money and all I went and got heart broken again! I mean I didn’t even know I had a boyfriend and there I was.. holding the pieces of my heart and soul together because I had been dumped.

My brothers and sisters I will never ever pray that my enemy goes through what I went through. I couldn’t tell anybody. I was crying every damn day for over 6 weeks. I would look in the mirror and it wasn’t myself I was seeing. I struggled to keep up the façade of happy camper all the time. The few friends I told had the most stupid responses in the world, looking back I don’t blame them I just know better than to share my issues with anybody no matter how close they are. People always know how to chat sh*t! they come at you with “You know I’m here for you” and then they turn around and say stuff like “Why are you deceiving yourself. Were you in love?”

A special shout out to my friend Remi who was so incredibly amazing! I can’t tell you enough that this is the second time this girl has shown amazing strength in the face of my despair. The first time was when I went to pick a vault to bury my brother in and then recently when she would call me from jand and I’d spend 30mins on the phone just crying! Hahahaha I look back now and think… she is a champ! I’d go to hell and back for that girl.

Anyway, so here I am, I’ve gummed the pieces of my heart back together, I’m not bitter or broken.. I’m not in that place of “yepa I can never love any man again” I’m stronger and you know why? Because the ONE TRUE friend, lover, companion, savior, KING is with me. My God! My Saviour! My Father. Jehovah! Ok I’ll stop now but seriously if you don’t know God I wonder who you turn to when you’re broken? Chei!!! God is too awesome abeg!

To all the people who felt I was being cold/withdrawn when I was down.. biko I don’t know what to say oh.. I can’t be a happy chipmunk 365 days of the year na! But I’m fine now I’m back and better.

In other fantastic news… I got a job. yeah like a proper 9-5 and it’s at an online magazine called BellaNaija.com. I also got admission for a masters in Creative Writing in the UK so please I shall be going about with my begging bowl for money abeg 11k pounds is not beans.

I’m happy guys, really in a good place but not because of all this good news I’m sharing oh (those ones na recent development 2 weeks ago sef) but because God rubbed my back from January till now. Infact He’s still rubbing my back till now sef saying “Aderonke omo mi… I WILL NEVER LEAVE YOU NOR FORSAKE YOU”

If you don’t know God I beg you… FIND HIM TODAY!!!!

The fortune teller's error

I was given an assignment by a new writing instructor. "Write a story beginning with the line 'The fortune teller was mistaken'. It should have no conversation and it should not be more than 500 words" I hope you like it.

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 The fortune teller was mistaken. You step out of your apartment building and you're given an umbrella to protect you from the torrential downpour as you walk briskly to your car. Fixing a bright smile on your face, you hand the brolly back and look forward to the day with carefully masked apprehension. You don't think it will be a bad day because despite the rain you're able to remain dry. Irrespective of the dark clouds, you see the ray of the sun peeking through the drapes of the sky. The fortune teller was mistaken. You cannot imagine how the tarrots could have read anything more than success and glamour in your future. You have worked too long and too hard to deserve anything else. You know that after all these years at the mill, it is only right that providence dishes you a nice warm meal. So you smile, you push the words out of your head, you know in your heart that all good things work together for the good of those who love God. You know you are one of them and as you get into the office building you meet the elevator still on the ground floor. The world is your oyster, waiting for the manifestation of the sons of God. The elevator is symbolic for you. You step in and smoothen your jacket and stare at the aluminum wall of the lift. All you can see is success, pride and courage. The ringer, indicating you have arrived on your floor jarrs you out of your little reverie. Bright lights; yes: snuffed out candles; no. The fortune teller was mistaken. You know this because as you walk towards your new corner office with the fantastic view of the city you receive warm, congratulatory pats on the back. Your name is on the door for the first time in 15 years of working here. You've seen it in your dreams and the reality is even more fulfilling. You settle in to work, allowing the warm feel of the leather and the soft texture of the interior of your new shoes ease you into your new job and then the floor shakes beneath you. You feel the tremors of the building resonating right to where you're sitting. You panic and then in an instant you see the ceiling hurtling towards you at a flashing speed. It's all happening so fast, one minute you are crawling on all fours and the next minute the loud pop which deafens you for an instant and sends the heavens down. Bright lights. Snuffed out candles. Your last thought before the blackness envelopes you. The fortune teller was not mistaken. Lights. Candles. Bombs.