what its like when…

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This is just one of those days…… h


I Had a Dream ( of Craig )


“I had a dream of a dear friend
No- a brother
I had a dream of a brother
Yes- a lost brother
I miss him
I miss my brother
RIP, Ichelaru.”


Today is the 16th of August, 2013. I dreamt of Agbolu last night
(Actually it was early this morning-i kinda slept late).
I was at his house- No, i entered hostel B but it had the setting of hostel D
(Our hostel when we were in SS3) and walked down to his corner which was at the end of the hall
(Coincidentally that was also the position of his room when we were in hostel B- JS3 days).
When I got to his bunk, there was ‘Goldberg ’himself perched lazily on his bed.
He looked at me and smiled. “Nwoks Nwoks” he said.
“How far”, I replied. “I bin dey look for you” I said.
“Wetin happen?” He asked
Of which I said nothing was wrong and sat in his corner while we just chatted away.
Throughout this time, I had a nagging in my heart saying that this was not normal and voices in my head asking me if I didn’t want to know what happened to him and how it was possible he was present at the moment but I chased all this thoughts of reason.

Here was my friend, my brother who since I heard he was dead, I could not smile whenever I thought of him. Here he we were having a blast and they were expecting me to start seeking a plausible explanation to it. Call me selfish but I wanted to enjoy whatever time I had with him before it ended.

So there we were when all of a sudden the setting changed and we were in his house. I then noticed his sister (I believe it was the small one ) and she was just looking at me, wondering how I got there I assume. After a while, when I was content that I had spent enough time with Craig, I told his sister to take me to her parents which she did. When I got to the parlour where they were, I entered and introduced myself (Although I was no stranger to the Agbolu compound, I had never actually met the father at home before). After I was assured that they were comfortable with my presence, I began to pour out my bottled-up feelings at his loss. When I was done spilling my woes, his mother smiled and revealed to me that he was not dead. She said it was a family ploy to keep their son safe and free from the scrutiny of the extended family and the community.
I was dumbfounded.

Immediately I stormed out of the sitting room to confront Craig. When I met him he was in a car and told me to get in, which I did. Once I did, I proceeded to give him a piece of mind venting my anger on him concerning his deception and how he forced me as well as other people who had him in their thoughts to a series of emotional barraging of sorts and unnecessary anguish- at this point I had started crying, it was too much for me. All through this time he did not say a word nor utter a sound of protest or excuse.

I don’t know if it was because of his silence or that I was tired of sitting in the car with him, I called for the driver to pull over and got down and walked off, absolutely pissed!

That was when I woke up…


If I knew it was a dream I might have done thing differently but that doesn’t matter. I miss Agbolu Craig Ichelaru and wish that I wake up one day to discover that his death was just a dream. Maybe I would appreciate him more and his significance in my life.
So this is what losing someone feels like. It hurts

The Observer

…Do you wonder who that shadow is

That apparition lurking in the dark

That blurred figure always present 

Omnipresent in its mock


I am that being

That phantom 

All seeing

All knowing


I watch on intently, curiously

As a mother watches her new born

As a babe watches the world

As God watches man


I look on, ever in awe

With my magnifying glass

I take in all details 

Careful in my steps

 Meticulous in my dealings


For I must not dabble 

I must not Interfere

I cannot be involved

I am an observer, nothing more


From me, to my love

Who knew that I who had mastered all in body and soul would lose wholly and foolishly to an innocent rose like you in a simple tug of war especially that which concerns the dominance of my heart… Alas, there is nothing more crippling than your love, more corrupting than your smile, more potent than your innocence.

Photography 101: Finding the Best Shot — Portrait or Landscape?

Art?! why the hell not…

The Daily Post

Last week, landscape photographer Jeff Sinon introduced the basics of composition and shared techniques on how to look for various elements in a scene. Today, he talks about scouting the best shot and deciding when a portrait or landscape works best for a photograph.

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And i Begin….

This, to me, is a journey-albeit a late one. You can call me Alloy – yes! i am a combination of all, yet i am one. I will be your guide and hopefully we shall complete this journey, together.

Bear with me, because as all true adventures are, there are ups and downs, climaxes and their anti’s, lows and highs… And I, a lover of nature, born by nature am flawed. Not by my choosing, but to the amusement of that which creates me – The Great Artist of Life.

In this path (as I would refer to this blog), there is no boundary to my experiments and I fully intend to dabble in all as i see fit. My fair warning.

Without much ado, we begin…Image