A TRIP TO THE WORLD OF FANTASY WITH JAMES INAS
Hello You and you! Wow its another day with your favorite host on *"A trip to the world of fantasies "* ____James Inas. So how has being your week? Regardless of how it seems unending, what matter most is what you make out of it. Do you record an improvement or achievement?
Last week was awesome you know. I featured one of the best writers in Mark town ( Markurdi ) ,by the pen name @oche_writes. A work of his, titled " murder on 15th street". That piece was short,detailed and awesome. Big ups to him!!
On this week, I came across a piece written by Kru Cherie, a Liberian. This piece with its nostalgic nature, inspired me to make out the same piece only from another perspective that comes down to our culture, background and lifestyle.
Here is the wonderful piece, though made mostly with some Igala undertone, enjoy.
Tittle: Spicy, Acoustic Song
Written by kru Cherie
Edited by:James Inas
From the roaring of the ocean's waters to the sizzling, sound of roasted meat smoking up travelers awaiting transportation in the scorching, afternoon's sun, she's provokingly inviting me to her warm embrace.
Like sweet music to the hearing, she fills my heart with unspeakable joy, playing my entire being like a six-string instrument, hypnotizing me with the inviting music of the moon songs;
calling me home to dance rhythmically to the drumming of her heartbeat.
Lady Nigeria, I can't wait to feel your soothing arms, strumming the many years living unknown yet few could know, to hear the chicken crow a sweet new day, to smell the feisty, aroma of okohio soup,boiling as the hangman for the glittering poundy awaiting trial in mama eyege's pot, and watch little boys playing football on dusty roads like their existence depend on it, to hear mothers calling their children for the most palatable, ojé - abáchá and white okro soup,oh this cinema keep picking slowly in my head.
The thoughts of traveling to the east could always spice up the music in ma head. The abacha,smoked fish,ukpaka,nkwobi as palm wine serves as there fore runner,leaves me uncontrollably salivating.
Ay yah, how I miss under-the-mango tree conversations of passionate men talking politics,living highlights for trendies, the busy buzz of market women selling dried, Bonnie stocks and fresh Palm oil, the animated singing of church women and sing-song, calls from the mosques inviting Muslims to pray.
Even more inviting is when the music gets louder with schools' bells ringing kids back to class, adding a metallic beat to the melodious, song playing in the heart of another frisky day in Nigeria. The song continues to play, loud and clear in my head, sipping too deep in my veins, like the slow, sucking of Kiss-meat from its shell, almost tasting like jágàdâ soup with the right amount of pepper, that spicy, acoustic song.
I better start my packing to sojourn, a "Where less" acoustic voyage. because from the sound of it, that spicy, acoustic song will not stop hunting me until I fall to the soil of Nigeria, and dance back to that igboro, Hi-life, and juju mix playing in my head with a cup of palmy to quench the thirst for my sweet home.
Post By: James Inas
IG; @D_base_official
FB; @deebase
Last week was awesome you know. I featured one of the best writers in Mark town ( Markurdi ) ,by the pen name @oche_writes. A work of his, titled " murder on 15th street". That piece was short,detailed and awesome. Big ups to him!!
On this week, I came across a piece written by Kru Cherie, a Liberian. This piece with its nostalgic nature, inspired me to make out the same piece only from another perspective that comes down to our culture, background and lifestyle.
Here is the wonderful piece, though made mostly with some Igala undertone, enjoy.
Tittle: Spicy, Acoustic Song
Written by kru Cherie
Edited by:James Inas
From the roaring of the ocean's waters to the sizzling, sound of roasted meat smoking up travelers awaiting transportation in the scorching, afternoon's sun, she's provokingly inviting me to her warm embrace.
Like sweet music to the hearing, she fills my heart with unspeakable joy, playing my entire being like a six-string instrument, hypnotizing me with the inviting music of the moon songs;
calling me home to dance rhythmically to the drumming of her heartbeat.
Lady Nigeria, I can't wait to feel your soothing arms, strumming the many years living unknown yet few could know, to hear the chicken crow a sweet new day, to smell the feisty, aroma of okohio soup,boiling as the hangman for the glittering poundy awaiting trial in mama eyege's pot, and watch little boys playing football on dusty roads like their existence depend on it, to hear mothers calling their children for the most palatable, ojé - abáchá and white okro soup,oh this cinema keep picking slowly in my head.
The thoughts of traveling to the east could always spice up the music in ma head. The abacha,smoked fish,ukpaka,nkwobi as palm wine serves as there fore runner,leaves me uncontrollably salivating.
Ay yah, how I miss under-the-mango tree conversations of passionate men talking politics,living highlights for trendies, the busy buzz of market women selling dried, Bonnie stocks and fresh Palm oil, the animated singing of church women and sing-song, calls from the mosques inviting Muslims to pray.
Even more inviting is when the music gets louder with schools' bells ringing kids back to class, adding a metallic beat to the melodious, song playing in the heart of another frisky day in Nigeria. The song continues to play, loud and clear in my head, sipping too deep in my veins, like the slow, sucking of Kiss-meat from its shell, almost tasting like jágàdâ soup with the right amount of pepper, that spicy, acoustic song.
I better start my packing to sojourn, a "Where less" acoustic voyage. because from the sound of it, that spicy, acoustic song will not stop hunting me until I fall to the soil of Nigeria, and dance back to that igboro, Hi-life, and juju mix playing in my head with a cup of palmy to quench the thirst for my sweet home.
Post By: James Inas
IG; @D_base_official
FB; @deebase
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