A Few Good Men…

Who is a good man? I have always wondered at that question. What makes a man good? Unfortunately, when it comes to the definition of a good man many are apt to base their conclusions on external traits like demeanor, composure, education, connection, wealth, even appearance. But does that make a good man?

Recently I was forced to think deeply about the term “a good man”. I have had to learn the hard way that the term “good” is relative, hence very questionable.

Especially since good without character, is empty. Unfortunately, the term character is strongly associated with perfectionism and worse still achievements. So in other words, good doesn’t necessarily mean character qualities. I have been blessed in my youth to have always associated with men of certain characteristics and for a while, I was apt to think all men were that way.  The truth is, there are only a few good men.

A few good men

The silence of Lambs and a few good men…

In fact, the term good is fluid and never constant, because, for every good man, there is a better man and then the best man. The only constant thing about a good man is change. And by this I mean, awareness and commitment to growth beyond being good to becoming better, and finally being the best. And when he is done, he must turn to another aspect of his good and make it into a better. This is the quality I have found in the few good men I know. It seemed the key to being good, is constantly becoming. And to become we must be “aware and committed” to growth.

Commitment to self-improvement is hard. Not every man can do it. It takes a proper audit of character and honest appraisal of self. Very few people are capable of facing themselves. It’s easier to blame the next person, point out the flaws in others while highlighting personal positive traits. I have learnt that the most insecure are the quickest to put themselves forward as secured by doing this.

But the truth is, we all have insecurities. But the way we choose to deal with these insecurities and the amount of responsibility we assume for them is what makes us unequal to others.

There are a few good men, we just don’t recognize them. And while we have them,  we don’t appreciate them enough. If there’s one thing Sagittarius taught me it was his insatiable need to conquer himself. That trait as animalistic as it appeared ( I was constantly alarmed). I didn’t value it till I met a blind Scorpio and it occurred to me that maybe, men are not exactly equal.

We need men. We need them strong and capable. We need them good, not without flaws but capable of honest commitment to the daily steps of being a better version of themselves.

There are a few good men and they are not the perfect. I have known them, some I appreciated, others I didn’t.

But because of those few, I know there are a few good men and  If you look closely beyond the noise, you will hear them silently…. They never come in the packages we expect, it’s no wonder we miss them!



Because We Were Born to Dance…

Africa, Girl stories

One of my favorite early childhood memory was my dad trying out new music collections. And when he found a favorite he will nod his head in pleasure, flick his cigarette and do a dance. I always watched attentively. He will point out the highs and lows of each instrument and ask which piece I loved and why. We always agreed on the same selections and when we didn’t, compared favorites as we danced. My mom never joined us in this exercise. In fact, she always argued that it was a waste of time and effort. She said my dad was plain right crazy to assume that we understood his musical madness. If only she knew. She pointed out that his dance was rhythmless. She was right about the dance though. My dad had only one dance-step irrespective of the genre of music. And I was highly impressionable, I learned everything, including the dance. Continue reading

Africa, Girl stories

Reality Check…

Suddenly  I am awake. It’s 4:30 am and I still have about 2 hrs of sleep to go. But I am awake. I tossed, turned counted some sheep. But common sense told me it was better to get a cup of tea instead. I reluctantly got off the bed. As I fumbled for the light switch, my eyes caught a blinking light. It was my voice mail. I clicked it and my Dad’s voice serenades my room. I checked the time of the call, it is 2 am. Seriously, Dad, I muttered. My parents were in a different time zone. About 6 hrs ahead but they always seem to call when they feel like.

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The Woman Abused…

Once upon a time in your life, it hits you! It is in that moment when like they say, lightning strikes you. You awake to see a different part of you- a revelation. You suddenly realize what your mind had tried so hard to hide. The fact that eluded you – that crucial piece you couldn’t find.

Yet for so long, I have tried to find what my heart sought the most. A deeper connection with my being. And just as he struck me – I found it.  I saw it in the stars that revolved around my pain…

She cleared her voice noisily breaking my reverie- “what did you see?” she asked gently. I was suddenly self-conscious, I tried to avoid her expectant face and shrugged.  

As usual, I had left my therapist hanging on my last words, “stars”. I swallowed and took a shaky sip of water.  

Dr. Awosika got up from her chair and walked to the window- she stroked the rich red drapery as she peered outside of her upscale Manhattan office … Continue reading

Kike comes Undone…

Every problem has an expiration date they say, but nobody ever truly knows when? She slams her fist at the wall and muttered deliriously. How much longer? the impact was a lot more painful than she expected, she winced.

“Mum are you ok” ? Boluwatife, her 2-year old daughter asked in concern. But she didn’t respond, honestly- this time she couldn’t.

How can she be OK when her life has veered so dangerously off the tracks of her dreams? How did she become this person- this strange girl she can barely recognize.

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