It feels like Home

Fire, water and fresh air

It reminds me of when mom was here

It reminds me of childhood

playing without a care

dancing naked in the rain

walking, screaming, talking, growing

fire, water, air and sand,

I remember dirt being stuck in my hand

I remember love and freedom and temper tantrums

see, it’s being with you,

it feels like home,

genuine, kind and true

honest, innocent and fair,

it feels like home laying here with you.


I remember my childhood routine

it’s up in the morning, off to school and back again

it’s playing in the afternoon with imaginary friends

it’s running into the house

before long when it turns dark

for fear of monsters, the shadows that seemed to walk about

I remember the smell of dinner

the heat of the lantern

I remember holding mom’s hand while I fell asleep

because I was scared to sleep alone you see

so having you here with me,

it feels like home.


Home is not a building with walls

it’s not a place that’s warm

it’s memories and people and love

it’s waking up in the morning with a glow

Home is a place in a person’s heart

I remember being home

the warm fuzzy feeling of joyful conversation

late night singing along to “Kumbaya”

sitting around the dinner table

sharing a drink from the same cup

Not because we lack, but because we love

it’s the sound of dad’s radio in the morning

Home is consistent, familiar and warming

it feels like home you see,

waking up, off to work and coming back

knowing that there’s someone there

who actually wants me back

it feels like home you see, being with you

it feels like home, it’s kind and true


Home is the picture of old age

two oldies on a balcony

living out the rest of their days

Home is having grandkids swimming around in the pool

home is the smell of breakfast and the thought of you

home is what we all hope to find

we search in the church, we search within our families,

we even search behind our curtain blinds

home is comfort in our saddest time

home is everything and anything that adds meaning to life.

It feels like home you see, being here with you.

Talking about my dreams and pains

sharing my worries and cares

it feels like home.


so I’m sorry I broke off what we had

I’m sorry I am hard to love

I’m sorry I shoved you off

I’m sorry I treated you with disregard

I’m sorry I lost my trust in you

I’m sorry for you and for myself

It’s my fault, I screwed up

It’s sad because now, I’m homeless

In a street full of strangers, I feel alone

I have no one to call home

I look at your face and I feel contempt

what used to be love is now regret

regret and pain and suddenly darkness

emptiness and sorrow

my heart feels bleak

my soul is amiss

I’m not at home in you anymore

And sadly, you have no home in me.


– Rukky Kofi

Dedicated to a lost friend.


I think, this year is different.

I know I’m different.

As at this time in 2016, I was busy evaluating, writing, making resolutions and elaborate plans on how to achieve the goals I had set for myself. I had everything nailed and too many idealistic thoughts to understand how reality truly worked.

So I won’t do what I did last New Year’s day.

I can’t bring myself to write in my journal.

I haven’t bought a diary for this year. Something different because as at this time last year I already had a diary prepped to document all the eventful things that would take place in 2016 and trust me, not much of 2016 was eventful.

I can’t bring myself to talk too much or make resolutions or try to evaluate or over analyze things.

And honestly, I may not write another post on this blog for the rest of this year simply because I don’t have much to write about.

But come December 31st, 2017, I’m going to come online and I’m going to have hell of a lot to write about the awesome year I’ve had and how it happened.

Till then though, happy new year and I wish you a great year ahead.

First For You.

First Born Association of Nigeria….read this.

WORDS of A Young Mind

Everybody thinks its cool, being the first born, male or female. If you are from a royal home, that automatically makes you heir to the throne. You get more of the inheritance they think, or maybe yes we(first born association of Nigeria) actually do, maybe we get to be respected and treated as gods, maybe our words are held in high esteem, maybe we get to sit in the front sit of daddys car, or get to have the biggest piece of meat or largest plate of rice, maybe we get to keep late nights without being questioned, maybe we get to have our own chair in the palour like daddy does, maybe we get to be the first in everything, death inclusive.

However, not to debunk your thoughts or assumptions, but to show you that not all bright light is sunlight, sometimes it can be lantern, in this case…

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I started this blog sometime last year and I did so with one goal in mind: GET MORE CLIENTS!!!

After setting up the blog I added some reviews and articles to showcase the quality of my writing. That way, while pitching potential clients, I could direct them here to get a feel for my work.

A year and some months later, I’m here writing a post for this blog and I’m tired of the grind. The content mills, the heartless writing and more importantly, I’m tired of the misery.

In fact, I got tired months ago. I pulled down some of the articles that were on the blog originally and I started writing more poetry and talking more about things that I actually care about….whenever I did bother to write anything besides poems (for this blog that is).

I started out with freelancing by being very unprofessional, young and naive and you could say, I was in a hurry. Too much of a hurry to grow and that is never good for anyone.

But this post isn’t about writing. It’s not even about freelancing. It’s about me. It’s about growing, learning and striving to make all my dreams come true. It’s about me turning 18 in a couple of days – September 10th. This post is about how far I’ve come and where I’m going next.

So far, within the space of a year of trying my best to actually commit to something, I’ve learned a lot and here’s a summary of everything I’ve learned so far.

Continue reading

These are my thoughts


Let me paint you a picture

It’s a Monday morning and you are a man. You and your wife, wake up this Monday morning. You both leave the house together. But you’re a man, so your morning routine is simple. Take your bath get dressed, eat your breakfast  and go. Your wife on the other hand, because she’s a woman and it is “her duty”… she wakes up earlier than you. She is a woman, SHE must see to the children. SHE must prepare the meal. Yet somehow she gets all this done in time, to have you and the children satisfied and still manage to look put together.

You will tell me it’s the way things are supposed to be.

Yes, she is the mother of your children. Biology says she carries the children for 9 months, biology says she breast feeds, biology says she’s generally better at multitasking…

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