"WHY DO I LOVE" YOU, SIR By: Emily Dickinson

"Why do I love" You, Sir?
Because—
The Wind does not require the Grass
To answer—Wherefore when He pass
She cannot keep Her place.

Because He knows—and
Do not You—
And We know not—
Enough for Us
The Wisdom it be so—

The Lightning—never asked an Eye
Wherefore it shut—when He was by—
Because He knows it cannot speak—
And reasons not contained—
—Of Talk—
There be—preferred by Daintier Folk—

The Sunrise—Sire—compelleth Me—
Because He's Sunrise—and I see—
Therefore—Then—
I love Thee—

Artwork by: Georgeta Blanaru
Titled: Unconditional Love

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Echoes of My Soul By: Similafleur

Painted their soul with my flowers. Left my prints on their canvas. Their rough lines, I made into edges Cracks I filled with my energy. I wanted them to be art. I made them my art. I gave too much. They left me empty. ©Similafleur

It’s Dangerous to use broom to mash ‘ewedu,’ Gastroenterologist warns

Using a small bunch of broomsticks, known as ijabe, to mash ewedu (mallow-leaves) is very common among Nigerians when preparing the slimy soup. However, medical experts have said that the age-old practice is actually fraught with dangers. Ewedu is also known as Rama ayoyo among Hausa, while the Igbo call it Kerenkere. Dr. Adegboyega Akere of the Department of Medicine, University College Hospital, Ibadan, on Wednesday, advised women and caterers to desist from the practice. Akere, a Consultant Gastroenterologist, told the News Agency of Nigeria in Ibadan that food handlers should always use blender for ewedu and every other ingredient used in cooking it. “They should not use broom to mash the vegetable,” he said. Akere said this is because ewedu soup that is mashed with broomsticks could still retain splinters of the broom, however minute. He said that when eaten, the splinters from the broomsticks could get trapped inside the oesophagus or the intestine. Akere ...

Painful letters By: Marvee

Every time I feel this way This terrifying kind of pain These twitchy palms and muffled sobs These weakened sights and mindless slob I would think of something To put me at ease, anything At times, to leave my world And be someone else, not a dud Often times I would write on plain sheet Write till my limbs felt weak Write till the page is covered in ink Write till the painful times shift. ©-Marvee

OLUWAJIMI . J . THORPE

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