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Today I witnessed it firsthand ‘women talking down their fellow woman’ for just minding her business. And it gave me concern. I decided to use a saloon close to my house today. Stepping into the saloon I saw the chairs were all occupied so I taught there was a crowd and i was ready to go back and come at a later time. But on a second look I saw the owner was also seated meaning she wasn’t busy but in a hot gist with three other women.

As I came in, one of the women stood and excused herself. “Abeg make I go see wetin my children dey do for house, make dis holiday do finish, I no even fit watch television again and their wahala too much.” She said as she was leaving. The other two stayed back and wouldn’t stop talking until I left the saloon.

Their discussion was about every person that passed. It amazed me how these women had a story for everyone on the street. From their husbands to their wives, to their children, even boy and girlfriends, fashion and on and on. For the one hour plus I was in that saloon I had to swallow anger in doses. Out of all their gossips one really got me and I had to address it.

This woman was coming from work I guess(she was still dressed in her uniform), slowed down to greet these ‘Ashiribakutes’ as two of them had gone to sit outside. AEDC gave them opportunity for better views by taking the light and the shop was now hot. They answered her very wellooo. As she drove off it became her turn to be diced on their chopping board. “I pity this woman because she no no the kin trouble she dey put herself inside”. I listened to know what kind of trouble they meant. She continued “how woman go dey, na her husband dey go market, come cook, even wash cloth, carry children go plait them. Even as children dey holiday now, na the husband dey house with them.” Haba na, but she goes to work, I turned immediately and responded to her. The other woman snapped in as though she was waiting for a fight “which kin work be that, which kin work wey woman no go ever do wetin her mates dey do. Wey go make her turn her husband to boiboi. Me I no fit leave my children like datooo because of one yeye work. How much dey wan pay me self...” Seriously, I had in recent times assumed women with this type of mindset don’t exist in this era especially in the city, where you pay for everything. The saloon woman now finished the matter “shebi na small small girls full this area wey dey find who go miskeep make dem help am arrange. Make she continue dey work. Make her husband they do boi boi for her.” At this point I had to loose my cool small.

What do you mean? Why wish such for your fellow woman. How is it your business how her and her husband decides to run their home? Why don’t you all mind your business and face your own homes? The part that is even annoying me more is that they are young women who can’t even afford this sweet roasted corn and pear that is everywhere unless their husband buys it for them. You know the end of this kind of story na. I left after loosing my hair and she lost one customer in me.

I wondered why and how some women think. Since when did it become an issue if a man decides to help his own wife knowing he has a less busy schedule? Does a woman sitting at home guarantee good marriage? People should learn to mind their business. Honestly all I saw was the effect of joblessness in those women. If they had jobs or businesses to go to, they would not have had time to be doing census and roll call of street members or talking down other people especially their fellow women.

Stella Obokoh


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SOMEBODY CALL HIM EBUBE DIKE By Femi Ajide (Song and Lyrics)

Femi Ajide has been in professional music for about fifteen (15) years now. He started his music career in the junior choir at the age of six. He is a former music director in Living Faith Church, Goshen, Abuja (Winners Chapel National Headquarters) and still minsters in the Choir. Through his Music Ministry many lives are being blessed.
His debut album has Nine(9) tracks of inspirational songs.
Listen, download and enjoy

Shout Halle le le le luyah/2x Somebody call him ebubedike Jehovah Jireh ebubedike, Ha a e e Jehovah ebubedike, Somebody call him ebubedike Jehovah Nissi ebubedike, Ha a e e Jehovah ebubedike. somebody call him, ebubedike/2x
In the morning when I wake, I will lift my voice in praise, To the glory of his name, For the things He's done for me ye ye…


I struggled for too long Being who I wasn’t Fitting  my circle into other people's 
perfect squares -- into all their
expectations for me Their perception was all that mattered What they will see and say Their standard for success and achievement
I showed up acting who I wasn’t Like a dancing monkey under obligations to perform magic To gain their recognition and affirmations for being who I wasn’t Against being Me
I broke the chains and gained freedom the day I stopped looking at myself through other people’s lenses because I discovered people wore lenses tinted and shaded to suit them not Me
All Rights Reserved © Stella C. Obokoh 2019


Housed in a container Moved in it Identified by its aesthetics But sometimes lost in it Who exactly am I the container or the content
Sometimes I try so hard to figure exactly what it is about this combo Sometimes complicating other times compelling sometimes conflicting other times cooperating
Influenced by the countless conversations with  the inner and the  outer the seen and the unseen the known and the unknown Then I discover It goes beyond this container there is something about content
As adorned as this container maybe embellished with so much beauty the content remains the substance that give it credibility Beyond the container that interacts is the content that keeps the flow is the content that leaves  memorable impacts
All Rights Reserved © Stella C. Obokoh 2018