Kemi Olunloyo – songs from a humming bird? by J Edgar
I have to be very careful with this write up. Kemi has shown so many times that she is capable of giving back very hard. Infact this morning I just watched her warning to Jide Kosoko’s daughter where she threatened to turn her into slice bread and feed her to the crocodiles in Florida. So I will try my best to choose my words in a futile attempt not to annoy or push her to recording another video for poor me.
Furthermore, Kemi is almost blood. She is a friend of the family and I have even met her and I must confess she is a beautiful woman. Slight and very sensitive looking no inkling of the fire in the belly and no sign that a brewing volcano inhabits such a pretty body.
I have been following her tweets and her controversy with a keen eye. From her war against her father, down to the one with Olamide and this Kosoko version and I must tell you that her showings have been more exciting than all the bland Nollywood movies being put out by near talented dwarfs . Her fearlessness scares me, her boldness is almost not natural and her vituperations almost makes you begin to question her sanity. She makes sense though but the caustic nature of her delivery leaves you wondering if this is not a suicide mission you are watching.
Even as I write, I am cowering under the bed covered in blanket as I know that this is a risk much more than that of walking through Sambiza forest with Buharis picture stuck on your back. I have gone ahead against all advise, reading my psalms and consulting my pastor before embarking on this very dangerous journey of trying to analyze and better understand the growing enigma that is now Kemi Olunloyo.
After careful examination of all her write ups and statements the few I can lay my hands on and also because of the urgent need to come out from under the bed as a result of the fear of ZIka, I must come out with a conclusion very quickly. But let me quickly state hear that the fear of drawing Mena’s wrath ( Kemi is her childhood friend) my conclusions would not be totally accurate and as such readers should take it the way smokers take the surgeon generals warnings on the pack of ciggerattes.
My take is very simple, Kemi needs love that is all. There is a void that needs to be filled with the warmth of love and robust kindness. Insecurity coming from years of being misunderstood, being cast aside as that ‘black duckling’ in the family, living under the shadows of such an enigma – her father, who remains one of the most brilliant scholars that Nigeria has ever produced is enough to throw a fragile child into the abyss of wantoness. Even me sef, my common papa who was a skilled orator but died penniless still disturbed me talk less of the great Olunloyo who used to mesmerize me with his political sagacity.
To the Kosokos who have been labelled ‘ black widower’ to the ‘ritualistic covens’ of Nollywood and also the enigmatic but curiously shallow Olamide I say please forgive and remember my dear Sister in your prayers. She means no harm, just the irrepressible need to bring to the public your deepest secrets thereby freeing you of the burden of such a weight. It’s her journalistic instinct.
My dear Kemi, let’s do lunch I need to understand you better. Kai, see mosquito bite all over my body.
See you soon.