Of lost friendship, and flickering dreams

This is a collaboration between me (queenzayta) and my friend Rofiat Alli (DaMore) a little more than a year ago. Thanks Damore for this beautiful collaboration.

I hope this jump-starts your day and hope you find your dreams. Enjoy.




As girls, we dreamed of what we wanted to be. Now, we’re grown and big…but is this what we dreamed?




I saw it all


The cheer, the fame,


I saw it wrong


In my mind’s face…




The glamour,


We would talk about,


In hushed tones,


On nights when the rules we’d flout




And we’d dream


And laugh


Over silly things,


We promised to be when we grew big and fat!




We wanted so much,


The world on both our thumbs


Big houses,


Fine men


We were dreamers without a care




Best friends


I remember,


And the tales we’d tell,


Now over this, tears I shed,




With the innocence gone,


And in you whom,


A friend I’ve lost,




I see you,


Tall and thin,


Wanna be a model


Is that what we dreamed?




Bobby with the belly,


Guess I hear he’s 50


Your boyfriend or daddy?


Angie, this aint what you promised!




We wanted better


I thought you remembered,


But I see along the way,


You found more dreams to crave.




I loved it all


The cheer, the fame


You saw it wrong


In my eyes, they were more than right




And the glamour,


All glitzy and sparkling?!!


Yes, we talked them hushly


Over pies and ice cream




Flouting curfews till mornings came


We were culprits


Mind, body and game




We’d dream


We’d giggle


Over silly things


And Mummy’s boys


And of things we would be


When we grew chick and curvy




We wanted so much


The world on a green button


Flashy cars


Robust accounts


We dreamed without a care




Best friends we were


And the fears we’d share


Now over them, the tears fall




With all innocence gone


In you, a friend I mourn


Today, we meet


You are what we dreamed,


Me, tall, thin, modelly


Maybe we didn’t dream this




And Bobby?


He’s working on the belly


He’s not so old, maybe 40


No boyfriend, no daddy


Call him my baby-daddy


This aint what I promised


Maybe, just maybe


I got it wrong to get it right




We wanted better


For me, it was harder


Yes, I remember


How much I worked


To get noticed


I didn’t crave more

the straight path was just never for me





Not much to lose


Little less to gain


I only followed the lights


That never came in dreams




Up Front or Behind the Scene…

It took me four months after I finally decided to start this blog to actually design it. You should see me around the office asking the IT and one of the Art guys how to go about it. Ewooo!! Even my boss caught me at it and couldn’t help laughing.

Finally sha, we are here (Wipes forehead of sweat).

I know you guys want to read something serious. Something my Literati people can easily term a classic story with a phenomenal resolution blah blah or one which many of my “Feminist” friends can call me to say “I like the way you pictured your character as the other. It’s such a post-colonial representation of blah blah. Abegi! I left that style of writing in school o. Post-colonial ishes and all those -isms might not come up very frequently here. Just saying sha. It doesn’t however  mean they won’t come up (Baba Ibeji’s money must show up once in a while. Four years of -isms is nor beans na).

Writing here however will be as the spirit leads jare.

I just wanna tell everyday stories that will make you say “Oh, I can relate” or “That’s so Me” and still pass a message.

So there’s this issue that’s always giving me cause for concern. Countless times a lot of people have wondered why I haven’t gone into Modeling or any of those centerstage professions. So I’ve decided to talk about it as a collective issue rather than tell people individually.

As much as some would attribute it to religion, I’ve always believed people are created for several reasons. Some are created to be the buzz while some are created to be the ones behind the buzz makers. It boils down to those who create and those who are created.

I’d rather let my work speak for me rather than be the one making all the noise about what my work does. I create things and stay well-hidden. I thrive best in the background; even though a lot of people think otherwise. I love to watch rather than be seen. It’s just me.

Then there are times when I think I’m hidden but I’m right in the middle of the actions. I try…I try to stay well-hidden; to create my private place in a very public world. Sometimes we try but the decisions are out of our hands.

But there are a lot of people out there who’d rather be seen. All good and fine. People are different. Just pick your corner and make it work best for you. I have picked mine and it’s just perfect for me.

So when next you walk into the room, don’t expect to find me in the center. I’d be at the corner at the back, taking in the room and activities.

I’d however wanna try the modeling thing one time though (with my scarf on), just for the fun of it or maybe just to see life on the other side of the divide (E sha mo)

Before I disappear again, be kind to share with me (in the comment section ni o. Stay out of my bbm biko); what are you? The seen? Or the seer?