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Pragmatic, reserved and a deep thinker who loves family, sports especially football where am married to two wives: the first, AC Milan who has my loyalty and the second wife, Manchester United who has all my undying love and pampering, lifestyle and society parties. Need I say the law is more than a profession but a lifestyle for me.

Adekanye Adeyinka Olajide.

I do it for me

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You are here: Home / SOMETHING IS BROKEN HERE!


Like the baby hyena, the sheer passion, the thrill of the excitement, and the exuberance exhibited is so enthralling that the trepidation it conceals through innocuous jeers and laughter is easily gone without notice. The only thing that counts is the joy of roaming freely with the pack on its first adventure. It seems too naïve and innocent to be faulted as it savours purely in the delight of existence even when the lion snaps its meal from its jugular while settling to ravish its chase.

What I am saying is there is always an impression of perfection created to hide the despair and disappointment. Therefore, it is always difficult to realise what goes on behind the appearance presented. The heart, which is never hollow, is hidden with its encrypted properties. As I settled in, watching the children run on the streets bare footed, not inundated by the hot pebbles and intense heat retained by the sands – blistering and sharply penetrating the sole of their foot. One cannot but appreciate the pure will to take on a seemingly empty tomorrow as they rolled tyres with reckless abandonment to the passionate satisfaction of the day.

It looks too good to be true I must say. One can hardly fault their belief and happiness stimulated from an inner depth of peace within that saturated the air. However, as the elderly ones returned from the farm, the true story comes to the fore for they possess immense wisdom, they are an embodiment of stories witnessed, every gaze revealed a tale hidden in a place bottomless to reach. Their presence testified to the battles they have conquered. They alone know why they act for as they surfaced like the rising sun, the children withdrew like snails snagged by the hand. They ran into their closets like monkeys with tails between them.

As I wondered how a place boisterous with children suddenly carried the silence of a cave. I realised that something was wrong; walahi, something is broken here. Broken from the inside, is the connection with the world, the will to trust has been shattered by the recent bizarre occurrences that have tormented the people. The only thing, they were afraid of used to be the rare wrath of the gods. However, now they have become frightened of fellow human who come to steal their girls at night like the fox and slaughter the boys like rams on the altar. They have become perturbed at the sight of a strange face for they know it is not only the heart that is deep; these strange men tick as the clock concealed by their regalia and sit among them under the tree, oblivious of their intents leaving their bodies in shreds; identified by their teeth or nails.

I carry this knowledge now that eats me up for I can fathom no reason why humanity has lost its face, I cannot comprehend how we have sold our souls to the devil who feeds on our monstrous heart. Now, I see the cracks in the most beautiful thing. I am wondering, is it all changing me or am I changed or I am just being paranoid? However, I think indeed every beautiful story has a chink that with enough pressure, the forces against it pierce through, permeating it enough for me to see the fracture.

Just the other day, I saw a family robed in uniform attire, flirting with each other gleefully and leaving others most green with envy. Their touches, nothing subliminal about them, were gentle uplifting the heart of even the soulless creature to want to commit wild desires. Just as I was beginning to hope again in the sincerity of men, inspired from this family, the veil ostensibly removed from my eyes and I realised that both fantastically put up mere showmanship alluring us to conceal their frailties.

Genuinely, again I knew in all honesty that something is not just broken but damaged irreparably with this family. Interestingly, the house cleaner at home carries oga’s baby although it is still a foetus in her belly, but the paternity is not in question. Madam being the globetrotter has left him too lonely and the temptation of watching the cleaner run his water early in the morning with her nipples punching through her dress and eating her sumptuous meals while she served him with sweats breaking yet revealing all her edges and salacious curves had subdued the man utterly. Yes, madam is aware now, but oga cares less. He says that the house cleaner is pregnant, is her business and that he is responsible for it is his, while madam’s decision to leave the house is hers.

You see that macho man you see everyday looking all fly and strong, the one wey dey kampe that never looks needy. That man is weak inside, very breakable like plate even if he stands gidigba and has a black belt in kung fu. His composure and calculation is all part of the process. In truth, he cries like a toddler every time that girl shatters his heart even I, with all my knowledge of disappointment being human custom, cannot console him with the greatest example. He sulks like a starved dog each time you reject him. Do not be mistaken his hard chest, six packs and bisects with all the strength he possesses do not serve as an odeshi to all his emotional troubles.

I also know that seeing a person with isi ewu arranged at his table, as he wacks do not mean he is the most enriched man in the world. Truly, that person flenjos now, but who tells you nothing dey happen for him side, he might just have crashed where better dey after passing through difficult waters. He might say no shaking as if his head dey for the matter when that woman orders for pizza when he only has money for a meat pie; he laughs on the outside but inside, he knows yawa don gas asking himself maka why?