Skip to main content

When Birds Flutter by Ejiro Edward

One does not know when they begin to move,  the BIRDS are always there, hiding under the tree, seeking protection and shelter, from the harshness of the Sun like I do, but in my case the realities of life.

Am dressed in black attire today, the one I was able to borrow from my neighbor, although she keeps looking for it each time I pass by, I try to ignore her.

ignorant people,

I like black and they don't know black is for people like me, people who are comfortable with birds and communicate freely with them.


I live under the tree

The birds are my neighbors.

The birds perch on the fruits and are kind enough to drop some for me

And we like to chirp because it makes communication easy

People think am mad, for talking with birds but I understand the birds, and the birds they remind me of my childhood

Of snowwhite

Of happily ever after

Of happily never after.


    Can love make someone go insane?


The first time I heard about love making someone insane was the day I read THE CONCUBINE by elechi amadi in my junior secondary years.

It was about a man who was insistent on marrying a widow that was said to be a mammy water spirit, he had almost succeeded in marrying her but for some misfortune ended up dead. The story in all consisted of a series of attempt by men trying to marry her but either ending up dead or giving up the chase. This man in particular was so in love with her that he had gone almost mad and said if he wouldn't have the lady in question his father should forget about him.


Does love make someone go insane?

When in secondary school, I had  a classmate who was fair in complexion, a very fine boy who was imo and lived as a help with his aunty. I had pity on this boy and gave him my food during lunch time and soon it was rumored that we were dating. People probably believed cause I was giving him lunch and was ugly to look upon with my lanky frame unlike the full breasted girls in our class.

Problem was once this rumor started it was hard to quench just like fire,

Just like birds when they begin to chirp, they found it difficult to close there discussion, like everyone had something to say about it all of a sudden..

Except something else could close the discussion.

something did,

Something ended the rumor of me dating this fair skinned guy.


It was ada that happened.


Ada was a girl with long hair and dark skin, she had voluptuous breast that happened to be on a lanky frame. She always came first in class while I hanged on second barely making the mark to hit first, she was also my friend.

He talked about her nonstop and looked at her in a manner of awe like he was worshipping her breath,anytime Ada was coming from the gate into the school premises, Ezeoke would go and carry her bag putting his hands around her shoulders , at first  Ada enjoyed the attention but soon began to dislike his company, then he always ran back to me.


Ezeoke!! I called out his name several at times,it is either Ada this! Or Ada that! One day you will run mad cause of ada. He would laugh about it.


Birds chipper!

Even in my state I can still remember very well the scene from that book the CONCUBINE, it's like I was able to create the imagery of the man when he would refuse to come down from the tree saying he would only come down if he would marry inuoma immediately, the father had agreed and coaxed him to coming down.

Someone had once quoted that if love is a state of madness ; let me be truly mad.

Ezeoke at the end of the term had fallen sick and when the whole class had gone for visiting he had refused to see his classmates as he kept asking for Ada .

Ada never showed up and nobody knew what happened to Ezeoke after he was taken to the village for recovery, my class had made jokes about it but I remembered reading that book.


Can love make someone insane?

The birds are chirping again, and shadows fall opposite me signalling its almost evening and small children are walking about, they don't mind me as am of no trouble to them, I do not even provide them entertainment like the usual would.

I am bored of them

they are bored of me .

I do not think of myself as someone whose insane, I like to think that am taking a break from the busyness of the un-necessities  of life. After all wasn't it Solomon that said

vanity upon vanity, everything is vanity


Wale and I had been engaged for ten years to tie the knot this year, we had built a house together in lekki and over the ten years made all our plans evolve around him. He had become a successful lawyer with him releasing a recent book on how to be the most eligible bachelor in the city, a book we both wrote about


My friends had warned me not to build my life around this man but like the mole I was I had refused, it was Ada,  yes that very same Ada that had driven me two weeks ago into the church were I saw my supposed fiance tying the knot with a lady that I didn't know existed.

I had walked out of there and here I am today talking with the birds and enjoying there company.


I do not like to think am mad yet, even though. I do not know were I am currently or contact anyone I know, but I know when they find me I would be okay, as long as am not in yaba left yet,

Am not in yaba left yet!

 the birds will do


it's night already and the birds are still chirping , am too tired to talk, I drift to sleep.




Popular posts from this blog

Dalu's Diary by Ogechi Ezeji : Children's Literature in Nigeria is Coming Back

I felt like a child once again, after reading Ogechi Ezeji’s Dalu’s Diary , a book of fiction for children and adults alike.The feeling I got from reading this work is akin to the one I got from reading Chinua Achebe’s Chike and the River , Onuora Nzekwu’s Eze Goes to School, Cyprian Ekwensi’s The Drummer Boy and all other great children fictions of Nigeria’s literary golden age, so many years ago. In the story, little Chukwudalu Aniche is obsessed with his diary, which he kept and wrote in at every turn of an important event that moves him to write. He initially lived in Owerri with his parents, Mr and Mrs Aniche and his beloved uncle Akachi, before his accountant father was transferred to Abuja, on account of his honesty and determination towards his job. Through Dalu’s diary, we are able to understand the inner workings of the young boy’s mind, his family, his closeness with his uncle, his view of his maternal aunt and her erratic daughter and most of all, his percept

Writers against the Bullying of Otosirieze Obi-Young and the Obfuscation of Truth

A STATEMENT BY WRITERS IN SUPPORT OF OTOSIRIEZE OBI-YOUNG In light of recent tweets and threads going around about the former Deputy Editor of Brittle Paper and the resistance to what many consider an unfortunate muzzling of truth, we, his colleagues and friends, would like to make a few things clear: We have worked with Otosirieze Obi-Young for years, have disagreed with him on many occasions, and never have we felt disrespected or stifled by him. We know and have often celebrated his firm commitment to diversifying the literary scene, giving young writers visibility, his efforts to make sure that prizes think of more writers than the already-known, especially those writers living on the continent; his push for the establishment of the Brittle Paper Awards is one example of concrete ways in which this commitment has been put to work. On Facebook, we have seen him talk passionately and with deep knowledge about the state of African writing and what needs to be done to enhance it,

Chetachi Igbokwe: What it Means to Attend Chimamanda Adichie’s Writing Workshop

Chetachi Igbokwe  is a final year student of English and Literary Studies at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka. He is the current editor of the University of Nigeria’s student journal,  The Muse , a journal of creative and critical writing, founded by Chinua Achebe in 1963. He is a 2019 alumnus of the Purple Hibiscus Creative Writing Workshop, facilitated by the Nigerian writer, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. What was it like having to be taught by the amazing Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie? Was it your first time of applying?  CHETACHI IGBOKWE : Thanks to Black Boy Review for affording me this platform. I respect Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and being taught by her was a great deal for me. Having read everything she has published thus far, starting from her first novel,  Purple Hibiscus,  which was a tour de force, it is evident that every generation must feel blessed to be graced with a writer like her. Originally, I knew about the workshop from close friends. I also knew h