Before,

When i was a girl, i look forward to Sundays.as its name implies its usually a sunny bright day, it use to be my best day when you allowed to wear your best dress, pants, shoes, hair accessories...all got sunday prefix i.e sunday dress...back from church different aroma of food(from your kitchen and neighbors') await your salivating mouth and rumbling belly.

if dad was in good mood as much as you are, there is coke even if it is a bottle to fight over and share with your siblings- then you remember how old or older you are that will give you right to share and take large portion over the others- all the fighting would soon be over when your favourite T.V show is on-come to think of it its always on NTA!...your reach out Nation(lost glory),from 3pm to 8pm there is something interesting to watch even the News use to be *baby friendly*newsline.

Then one by one everyone drop to sleep on the couch, floor,... with plates, toys, clothes littered everywhere, mom in sunday spirit does not shout or beat this day. All just ends happy ever after like a story ending looking forward to repeat this sunday but now...

After,

I am a lady, my Sundays is become cloudy and gloomy not because it wants to rain but because of Bombing!!!, crying everywhere, faceless cry,wailing, distress cry till they gave up the ghost/hope to see a beautiful sunday. i hear the child, mother, fatherless, widow cry but i do not see them, back from church i quietly undress because this dress is beautiful but it has to see many more sunday and probably attend "owambe", carefully prepare a meal of whatever because i don't want my neighbor thinking i have collected salary so he/she doesn't come for a loan. after eating alone, no electrical power supply muchmore see whats on the T.V set, then gradually i drift to sleep only to be awaken before i have had enough sleep by the cry of my neighbor "hey! shey!, my uncle o! the only bread winner of our family is gone!"

Two sundays ago it was my 2nd neighbours' wailing that welcome us back from church, the Sunday after my 1st neighbour was rushed to the hospital over the News of the lost of the love one and now, who is next!?

Can I/ You be left out of all these 'Mess'? emphatically No!. Do you know that when i had a Sunny Bright sunday someone had the opposite and now we are on equalizing time, we all sharing in the pain of others. who knows if we  had shared the plate of food with a nothing to eat "Jona", numerous shoes with a shoeless "jona",maybe he wont be demands for us all to loose our legs to pay for his days of shoelessness,what if my mom had call in that "meruwa"(he fetches water for sale) to a plate of meal,maybe he would not go back to his state in frustration and become a "boko haram" what if we had invited a dirty child in to sit on dads' newly acquired "settee" and watch "Tales by moonlight" with us so he too would have learnt the morals of dont steal other peoples things, maybe he wouldnt grow up to looted a nations sweat...oh! lot of what 'ifs' i cry! maybe not like my neighbors but i cry for my lost sunny bright sunday, i cry because my sons, daughter have been cheated! the T.V remote will be with daddy constantly to change the non-baby friendly channels, they will have a bottle of coke to themselves and turn out greedy to have everything for themselves, they will stay indoor all days, week, month year in fear, terror of indoor and outdoor, they will fear to go to church because my neighbors cousins who comes to visit during beak times died in the church...Oh! i thought "thing fall apart" long ago in Achebes' book i did not know it was a prophecy/caution sign that would averted todays/tomorrows danger..

Turning and turning in the widening gyre (1)

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the center cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;

Surely the Second Coming (2) is at hand;

The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out

When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi (3)

Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,

Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it

Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again; but now I know

That twenty centuries (4)

of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?