I still luv the smell of London

I still luv the smell of London

Sunday, 19 October 2008


Hi Guys,

Thanks to everyone who got back to me and to those who have accepted the group invite and joined. I am however still looking for writers. My segment is Sex, Love and Relationships however there are other segments you can write for if you don't want to get involved in mine. In the first core group meeting we had, one of the great ideas was for 'our web developer' to create a mock up of the cover so that we had a visual of the project to inspire us.

This has now been released and I have put it up here. We have also released our segment plans and in my section there are 22 sub segments. The Resource list is filling up real quick so this is the time to get in and decide wether you want to write and what you want to write for.

Look forward to hearing from y'all and Thanks once again.

Miz ADe.

Monday, 13 October 2008

Another Cheat Blog! LOL!... SPEAR needs Sex , Love and relationship experts!!!

Alright Guys! I have had another few crazy busy hours over the last few days, and I am very aware that y'all are not used to Miz Ade updating this frequently...

But here goes, so the magazing SPEAR has decided to make my segment Sex, Love, Relationships and because it has my name to it .... IT MUST ROCK!

So this is how we're gonna play it... I need anyone; male(I am very interested in what the guys have to say on SEX and LOVE and Relationships).... , female that is interested in doing an article that falls under this segment... so is it a story, an agony aunt/ uncle type thing, a collection of funny sexual stories, an interview on an extremely sexy person, a collaboration with a charity, a photoshoot, anything, some really hot chics and dudes that would just make us all drool,lol, and we will make it rock... See guys I am not playing, this is one project you definitely want to be a part of it... Oh BTW it is African, not Nigerian, not Ghanaian... so come aboard. If you also have no idea what you want to write on, let me know there are loads of ideas here ... so please holla at ur gurl.
Oh by the way! Thanks to everyone who did the survey and to all the guys that did hit me up, thanks a lot. Seeing as I am now ready to take on articles on my segment. I have created a group on google and would be looking to add people on so that we can begin bouncing ideas and putting the segment together ... so send me your e mail ids and remeber you can always remain anonymous... If you'd rather not write in my segment, there are other segments you can write in, so hit me up regardless. Seye will be doing lifestyle so if its money, health, diets... hey hit him up! Thanks again!

My segment must rock I ain't even playing oh!...can't wait to hear from y'all!

Regards ADe

Friday, 10 October 2008

Ade's Heart!

As I approached the highly intimidating white gates, a weird kind of fear crept towards the very depths of my being. It bore an uncanny semblance to an apprehension I could not place. It was fear but not fear ... It was however, definitely a ‘fear’ or ‘a type of’, that was for certain.

The man on the other side of that gate was a man I had gotten to know too well, for he had been an integral part of my existence, perhaps even the most important man that I would ever have the honour of meeting. He had single-handedly shaped the path my relationships with men would take, he had sown ‘mind seeds’ of how I would allow the men that would eventually come into my life to treat me and he had groomed me to be an ‘almost arrogant, somewhat cocky woman with a heart of gold’ and a warrior’s sprit. Yes, he was an Enigma...
I walked up to the ‘gatekeepers’, two old men sat in the evening sun, deep in conversation. cavernous wrinkles and tribal marks clamoured for space on faces with skin as thick as hide, very shakily, in my native ‘Yoruba’,
‘Ejo Sir, Se Oga wa n le?’(*1), I asked

It had been five years since I had touched these gates, five years since I had walked these grounds and five years since I had seen 'the man'.

His problems began five years ago, prior to that he had lived an amazing life. He had lived a life most men only dreamed of; fast cars, faster women, houses in every prominent city on the globe, excesses I’m too afraid to mention and an insatiable appetite for spontaneity. The floodgates of my mind were open as the memories poured in. It had been exciting times and he had lived like the rich had the inability to ever cry; Five chefs , Six chauffeurs, Two Swimming Pools, A house he had meticulously designed and built, five fish ponds, A Tennis Court, Squash court and the games room... how could I forget that; I had learnt to play Billiards there.
Some say his reckless life style had eventually caught up with him, others say the ‘ones’ he lived amongst had set the wrath of the gods upon him mentioning his name in the shoddy homes of herbalists and voodoo priests, others said the Nigerian government had changed the economic rules at the wrong time and ‘entrepreneurs’ had taken the hit, He said everyone around him was a ‘witch’. For when a man that wealthy takes a fall so hard he can barely stand, it is absolutely normal that he would seek to blame his misfortune on something, someone , anything. I shrugged... a cold fever coursed through my veins...
This one was definitely a man of excesses. Memory after memory, my mind drifted. The smile formed ever so gently. It was a smile of painful sorrow, one that uttered its own silent cry, a paradox that’s what it was. But that was what he was. ‘The man’ right? He was definitely a paradox. For the way I remembered him was very different from what most people said at the funeral....
I had no idea how long the elderly man had been talking to me, he tapped me ever so gently waking me from my reverie and said; ‘Tele mi’ (*2) . He motioned, I followed.

The walk from the gate to the main building took approximately ‘8 minutes’. I took the surroundings in casually. It had all changed; the unmistakable stench of defeat infiltrated the place. Things were definitely worse than I had anticipated. My heart bled as the gatekeeper briskly led me through the tarred road towards where the man sat. I cowered behind his feeble frame not knowing what to expect, for one of the things I remembered the man for was his temper.
The gatekeeper stood straight, addressed the man, by his first name, ‘Tunde... Kehinde fe ri e?’ (*3)
The man looked up ‘Kehinde wo?’ (*4) he asked in a near whisper

‘Kehinde (*6) Ti Wa’,(*5)

The gatekeeper’s word were like salve to blind eyes, it suddenly dawned, I was home, I belonged here. I held on to his words and walked into ‘the man’s’ presence.
One look at me and the tears rolled down his face. He looked so much older and had lost so much weight. I wasn’t sure how, but my well groomed, incredibly handsome, strong and powerful father had aged overnight. I knelt before him, hugged him and cried for what seemed like forever, I looked up and wiped his tears...
It didn’t matter what the last 20 years had held, it didn’t matter what mistakes he’d made. All I saw were my father’s tears, I saw a full grown man, a man aged above his years, a man that wore a garment of pride humbled by the site of ‘his daughter’, ‘his seed’ and his child!
It didn’t matter what the world said... with that singular act. He convinced me that ‘He Loved Me!’

Shortly after, I moved to the UK. I must have seen him about 3 times after that memorable day and spoken to him once, maybe twice. Four years later he died... February 25th 2003,Abayomi ,My youngest brother’s birthday. Trust him to pick a date we’d never forget.
I had bought my ticket to come home in March. What was the rush why couldn’t he wait?
Its five years and the pain’s still raw. The past few weeks have been tough, tedious and emotionally draining. I moved out of London to take on a contract with IBM in the Nederlands and I really miss everyone.

The others I’ll see in a few weeks but him, it will be a lifetime. My Daddy, he was definitely something else... What happened to the age of Innocence? He’s gone now, but he gave me some of my best memories and that’s what I have today ... Precious memories

Babatunde Michael Adeyemi; (1945 – 2003)
Omo Amofeso, Omo Oba Dansa aki... Sun re o!

*1. Excuse me Sirs, Is the man of the house home?
*2.follow me
*3. Tunde, Kehinde is here to see you
*4. Which Kehinde are you referring to?
*5. Our Daughter, Our Own ,Kehinde,
*6. Rest in Peace
*7. Yoruba name given to twins.

*** Guys I completely aplogise for not doing the blog rounds, as explained ... I have been dead busy, thanks for the comments so far, Thought I'd give editorial a break and please let me know if you want to write for the magazine!***
Prettig Weekand... Have a good weekend.