Tracing Lines.

I'd close my eyes and trace the edges of your face into memory, for when you are no longer here, my mind will still remember you because I'd traced the contoured ridges on your fading memories.

What The River Brings

How To Set a Burn

*I ate your girlfriend
Didn't need ketchup or sauce
I only spread lips that said (O)
And tongue that flicked strawberries
Now, burn.*

OK. Calm down. This is an imagined practice sub-text for  a rapper or music artist. I am a little bored with the Nigerian artist singing about cassavas and bananas. When are they going to address a woman's needs and get a conversation going about proper eating etiquettes? I don't mind if a rapper sings a diss rap like so.

If you are as sick as I am, suggest these burn lines to a Nigerian lyrical artist. I do not mind, just have him credit me for my intellectual property. Das all!

Miz Conquer.
8/11/2017

A Cure For Death.

The cure for growth is death.
...
The cure for death is growth.

Cactus and Weed.

Two cactus plants stood buried in white flower vases outside the door. There is manure, dirt, weed and sand in the vases.

I had not remembered to water the cactus in weeks now but they were fine. Cant say same for the weed though. The drought in the pots had dried them up. Poor weed.

 In relationships. When we forget to water our feelings, they'd dry up too, leaving wasted fibers on concrete hearts.

Life After Death?

What if sleep and dreams are God's reminder to Man that there is life after death?

Staying petty

If you are Nigerian, over 35 and still single, plan a yearly fundraising event for yourself and call it the "Mind (insert your name)'s fundraiser'. (Run this event until you are married)

Make it public and fancy, preferably a black tie event.

Make sure to invite everyone that has something to say about your relationship status or insult/gossip you for it and give them special tables for 100,000 or more. These people have a lot to say about how you should live and what you should be doing with your life. They should at least pay you to live the life they want you to live, no?

Invite Exes and their spouses just for the hell of it. Give them 500,000 vip tables or more. They shouldn't only be allowed to ruin your life. Let them help rebuild it too.

When petty people go low, go so high that they can't afford to mention your name without repercussions.

(c) Conquer Igali.

Bubbles

Floating pieces of you trail my neckline.

I fear to touch you because all bubbles break

Like you did

Like I will.

Silent questions.

A broken man questions to understand.

So I understand what place of pain a man strains from to ask why a God mighty in battle, that protects his children from harm sits still as armed men walk in his house and murder his worshipers.

A broken man questions to understand. But a foolish man takes a stand from a position of ignorance.

Rocks Cry.

I know rocks cry when we take machines to them, breaking off it's skins till only a puddle is left where strength once stood.

Blessings.

*May you ride on the back of lions, the Krakan, and lightening bolts.

*May the back of crocodiles rescue you and your kin from drowning.

*May pythons fold as pillows for your sleeping head.

And when you go hunting with blunt tools, *may the waters release a sharpened set to aid your day's toil.

Blessings.

When men seek to curse you, *may dragons swallow and spit their curses back at them. Now. And forever.

Eight Questions.

Why does the cock flail, running away from his pending death after it's head is already cut off?

Why is the man resisting the temptation on his lip when the nipple is already grazing his infant's lip?

Why do we accept the medicine for the dead man when his grave is already celebrating an anniversary?

And why?

Why does this flower flail in the wind as though protesting its death at sundown?

Why do we refuse to live?

Why do we refuse this life thrust on us?

And when do we start living?

On Choosing.

It is a human failing that'd make the boy decide he could do better in choosing.
So he'd leave his first for the newer, but would find years after;

*that newer is no better than the first.

*That age would make newer wither too.

*And childbirth would make newer more a mother than a lover as it did the first.

This Love Thing.

It is different every time, this love, thing.

You meet the boy in your teens and it was love too. That innocence, that first time at everything, the palpitations and the sheer stupidity of everything else.

Grown people knew it wouldn't lead to much, that life would happen to you and this thing you feel will wither, or fall. And they are often right. 
For, sometime after your various graduations, first jobs and new people, it'd die. But it was love too. Just a different kind from what you know now.

Now, love is sitting next to someone you once loved, holding him down because you know he is having a breakdown and the only good you can do is not sleep until he is better.

Love is knowing that your partner is scared, possibly for life, and recognising this, intentionally picking up all his shrapnel and splinters along the way hoping to patch him up when he needs it.

Love is now also companionship and lifelong plans, learning your lover's illnesses and walking on a care plan together.

Love is responsibility and subtle head nods too.

For some, Love is recognising that he is not only yours too, that you aren't that special after all. He is yours and hers and his mother's too.

Now, love is meeting broken people, and fixing inches of their lives one encounter at a time because you can't fix them, really. You can do just this much and hope.

Now, love is different things and nothing.

Tide.

We are all chasing mavericks until we tire from it, and get ready for the waves in the tide.

I have been waiting.

Crumbs

These days, there is often food in my bed and a drink on my bed rest. Not good for my weight gain.

Sometimes I wake up to ants crawling on my arm because the popcorn bowl is often never really empty and the crumbs from sweetened biscuits call on other beings to me too. This is the reward of nutritioning in bed with movies (and the occasional PowerPoint slides I make during idea burst). The last time I'd done this was with Merit. I kept her TV and now I pointlessly have two TV's in one room.

I try not to think so hard.

Yesterday, I found a product I'd been looking out for the past year. Jergen's, 'hydrating Coconut' 'dry skin moisturizer'. I am not picky with products usually. I'd use any cream that does not lighten or tone my skin.

Anything is fine.

Vaselines are great.

My mother says I abused Vaselines as a child. I'd empty a whole bottle of Vaseline on my body, take a stool to the sun and sit out while calling myself a shining Queen. This is funny until the 20th bottle BTW.

Back to the cream; I had bought this 'hydrating coconut' Jergens a year ago because I really love coconut, you know, and found that the moisturizer took well to my skin too.

The texture of the cream itself was just right, not so shinny like that Nivea moisturizer in the Blue bottle.

Thinking about it now, I'm unsure if I liked the product for myself or it was transfered inference from my older Sister Jane. I remember she'd gushed about it and had mentioned how it was so great you could moisturise anything with it ( I put a squirt on my hair and felt my strands jump I swear), so maybe I liked it because she did, I don't know. But after that first bottle, I returned to the shops to buy more but never found it until yesterday. I had to catch myself from screaming when I found that lone bottle on the shelf.

Well, that's that.

You realize now that you'd been reading all these hoping to find a conclusion that sums up my thoughts conclusively right? Now that you know I am not going to do that for you, what do you do?

Conquer: On Lies.

A lie undignifies it's peddler.

A liar loses dignity when he is found out.

A Deity's prayer;

May our sleeps come in breaths and our beer gourds in the morning.

                                 For those whose toes will curl anytime soon, I wish you babies!

Mother Of Gourd:

I built a house of GOURDS.

I am priestess and Mother.

I am. 

Mother of Gourd.

Mother of Gourd.

On Fear.

Not everyone is afraid of Demons. 

Some of us are Deity.

Conquer Igali

Recent Projects. Hair

I had decided on extending my curiosity to hair, specifically braids and and just how versatile this focus is. I love braids. I love them so much it is a sort of vice for me now. I love colors in braids too and I put a lot of colors in my braids.

Next to color is length. I love really long braids. I love that I can twist and turn and do all sorts of styles with long braids. This curiosity is how I invented the African Braidijab. A braid style where hair is used to form a modern Hijab style worn by women who do not want to wear the traditional hijab look. Below are some photos.

The Braidijab by MizConceptions

The Braidijab by MizConceptions

Mother of Suns

Have you heard that when a woman is dilated enough to birth, 
her crown brightens like the sun?

What if a Woman birthed the Sun 

Like she birthed the Son 

And the Messenger too?

Conquer Igali. 30/10/2016

Pebbles

                   Like things brought ashore by indecisive waves,
                we trudge our affections to the welcome mats of each other's hearts

           But no further.

       Leaving clear pebbles of a sailor's journey in our wake
    But never a stay 
of ornamented pebbles on bedside jars

                                                                                                                                Conquer Igali. 30/1/17