Posted in Writings/Literature


I sit here, after my smoke, reminiscing about a year ago. You see, that was when everything started. All of it, smoking too because I know you are curious about that. Listen to me, let us decide together if I should stop.

Last year, I was a year younger of course. Nothing special here except that was when I should have been done with my master’s degree. I remember writing out my plans, working towards them. Riding the bus with fellow smelly strangers, smiling at smug bosses I want to punch or sprinkle a little pee in their drinking water but I want to aspire to inspire because I am not quitter.

But that day, I got tired and tore up that frustrating shit and decided I was going to be an entrepreneur. I need you to focus because shit gets real here and we will get to the smoking part in a bit. Anyway, let me explain to you how I decided to be one. I woke up one day, motivated and decided I wasn’t going to let my boss pay me to forget about my dream for another month. I am not talking about the masters! Tell me, what does Bill Gates have? Zuckerberg went to school after making billions off Facebook.

I got a new haircut, went to work with a brand new outfit, waltzed into my boss’s office and the damn woman was crying on the phone over her sick child, shouting instructions and deprived me of the opportunity to scream “Fuck you bitch!” as I dropped my resignation letter. My one and only opportunity, gone with the wind.

So I started my business encouraging people like you and me to buy, because of friends and family who would not and even if they managed to, always at a discounted price smiling and telling me they were praying for me, giving unsolicited advice. I almost punched a friend for daring to buy a second time without paying but I’m not violent you see. And at that moment, while trying to relieve my tension and to think of better ways to survive should have been the catastrophic beginning of my smoking.

Look at you, with eager ears, attentive, calculating, patiently waiting to judge. There’s no story here, and definitely no smoke. However, thank you, all of you for pretending to listen and understand before you judge. You, my fans are the reason I’ll do this tomorrow with a tailored suit, leaning on my stick, talking, pausing to blow puffs while waiting for the crowd to clap as each puff diffuses into the air. But as I look at the lizard climbing on the little wall beside me, we make eye contact and we know at this moment we have found solace in each other.

*The picture of this post was gifted to me by the curator of philonoists, a platform dedicated to sharing knowledge and unique facts of the world.


I'm OnyinyeOlufunmi, a visual artist, writer and psychologist from Lagos, Nigeria.

5 thoughts on “Smoke

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