Monday is a Nigerian poet, podcaster, teacher and blogger. Born in 1995, Ilorin, Nigeria. He expresses in words his thoughts in his poems which talks about things that affects him. Things like solitude, family, life, fame, love and a whole lot of other things that can affect a young adult male. His poems have been aired on national TV in his country, Nigeria.
Author of The World Within, Piary: Diary of a pensive poet, and Pieces of the confluence. Published in 2018 and 2020 respectively. He looks forward to sharing more of his anthologies and fiction in the future.
Written In Lagos is a compilation of Short Stories by Abuh Monday Eneojo. It comprises of six stories that span from the writers imagination and experiences. The first story, Black Sheep, in the book exposes the tumultuous ordeals of humans who try to survive the excesses predominant in Lagos State, a State known for its myriad business opportunities. It also brings to light the after effects of the popular End SARS protest in Nigeria.
Enjoy Abuh Monday’s work in Fevers of the Mind at the links below:
Hi Clark, thanks for doing this interview. I’ve been a huge podcast listener for about 12 years or so now. It all started with old school wrestling podcasts, Kentucky basketball, then onto Comedy Bang! Bang! and then interview/documentary style shows. I have known you for a few years from Evansville where “Clockwork Nights” began, In and now you reside and do your podcast in Nashville. The podcast are interviews with creatives like yourself. Going in depth with interviews over music, art and more.
Q1: What are the podcasts that you’ve listened to through the years, and what lead to your decision to restart the Clockwork Nights podcast again after a small hiatus?
Clark: The first podcasts I remember hearing about were, This American Life by NPR and one of Kevin Smith’s early podcasts. Since then I’ve listened to various podcasts, ranging from cooking shows to the Michelle Obama podcast on Spotify. I love that a podcast can be about anything. For me, I needed to have intentional conversations again with friends and strangers alike. People I either respect or find inspiring. As we all know, the world has been turned upside down over the last couple of years with added layers of negativity. The podcast allows me to share these inspiring conversations with others.
Q2: Do you have a favorite podcast? Do you pick up tips from other podcasts that have translated to how you run your own show?
Clark: Absolutely. I’m always searching for ways to sonically produce the best sounding podcast. I love that some podcasts have branded themselves with merch and made their shows household names. Maybe I should do a run of Clockwork Nights coffee mugs? Would anyone buy that for Christmas?
My Nashville buddies Clint and Ethan run the number one Metallica fan podcast called Metal Up Your Podcast. With just their podcast they’ve created a great sub culture for fans of metal music. I’ve actually made a few friends through their podcast. It’s funny to think about how a band like Metallica can inspire a podcast and as a result you make friends that you now can’t dream a world without.
Q3: You’ve lived in Evansville, Indiana, currently in Nashville and if I remember right you’ve also spent time in Germany? How was living out of the states, and how did that help shape your current personality? (myself I went from a small town in Kentucky to a huge city in New Orleans and then to smaller cities in the Midwest. The culture change from small town Kentucky to a culture pot like New Orleans rally helped me in figuring out how to be a more well rounded person at 19 years old at the time)
Yes born and raised in the Evansville area. Lived for a minute in Oklahoma in middle school and moved to Germany when I was 19 years old for about three years.
Clark: Any time I’ve spent outside of my surroundings and comfort I believe has changed me for the better. Germany specifically at the time helped me understand that there’s more to life than American politics and a worldview that exists between democrats and republicans. For example they have around five main political parties. For me, I found myself having the opportunity to compare all that I knew in middle America with a culture that has been around for centuries. Plus… beer dude!
Q4: You really put yourself out there at times showing that you’ve dealt with anxieties through your life and how you’re overcoming that with exercise, eating right & more. Are you finding that it is hard to keep a consistent schedule to keep a healthy lifestyle both mentally and physically? What are the challenges and benefits to maintaining a positive outlook?
Clark: I think everyone’s greatest challenge is to remember to be nice to themselves. Regardless of what routine you follow, it’s all for nothing if you aren’t doing it to better yourself first. So please be kind and nice to yourself! Keeping a consistent schedule definitely helps. Like all habits, it takes time to break the old ones and time to instill the new ones. Be patient and keep your goals in mind. Let your goals motivate you more than keeping a rigid schedule.
Q5: I know you’ve been playing music your whole life, and also do some production work including the podcast. When did you start playing music? What attracted you to wanting to play your first instruments, and when did you join your first band?
Clark: I’ve been attracted to loud noises for as long as I can remember. When I was a baby my mom would know I was awake from naps because I was either pulling things off of my dresser or I’d be pounding my feet against the crib. So naturally, I gravitated towards drums. I got my first snare drum for Christmas when I was seven. I still have it. It’s sitting right next to me.
I joined my first band at the age of 12. I played drums and sang! We were somewhere between The Melvins and whatever 90s pop punk bands… We were raw, out of tune and just explosive.
Q6: How many bands have you played in and do you enjoy the production side of music more and just doing projects with people here and there, or a consistent traveling and performing concerts?
Clark: I’ve lost count… Nine bands? I haven’t toured much ironically. So I’d love to do that more. I do love the production side, but I also love having my head in the middle of all the noise while performing. It’s a toss up!
Q7: What are some of your favorite concert shows you’ve attended (locally and otherwise)?
Clark: Local shows. My favorite shows ended up being in the basement of the Hockey House on 2nd Street or friends houses in Evansville, Indiana. Bigger bands… Motorhead was fun. Making eye contact with Lemmy was both intimidating and enchanting. I’ve burnt myself out on this one, but Turnstile all day for current bands. They put on a really fun show.
Q8: What is one of the strangest happenings that have occurred at one of your jobs?
Clark: Keeping one! I’m a creative through and through. Staying committed to the grind has its challenges.
Q9: What are your goals with Clockwork Nights? Are you wanting to keep it mostly with the Nashville scene and with friends and creatives you know, or hopes to expand it to entertain the possibility of interviewing a wider variety of people?
Clark: To connect with people regardless of who they are and what their background is. The guests are from all over. Previously I had sorta cornered myself to only interviewing musicians from my hometown. Now, I just want to talk to whoever I find inspiring. I think since the relaunch the show has done pretty well at having a variety of guests on. Which will continue!
Q10: Please give us some links, any social media info, patreon info and in general where one can hear “Clockwork Nights” Podcast.
Climbing up Bukhansan Instead of Just Going Around It
I believe you had a headscarf tied around shaved skull
when you looked across the low table on that high hill
where the Buddha was carved into a cliff that will linger
longer than the rest of us. Patterned headscarf perhaps,
just above the considered concentration of your hands
turning round the lever of a coffee grinder on your knee
but honestly, I do not think about your head or its skull
or the coloured pattern of your scarf when I remember
you here, scrambling my way through the parts of Paris
I cannot break down into smaller, more soluble pieces
to be able to contain it, like you had contained my gaze,
that in turn contained a million questions I’d asked you
and you answered in a language I have yet to learn but
already label as treasure. I do remember how your eyes
shone like the star of a gentle iris I painted once while
trying to understand the strokes of Van Gogh before
I realised that the brush carries onto canvas much more
than just a shot of colour. I recall the iris of your eyes,
back in Paris, where les Etoiles is just a metro station
that too many cars just go round and round and round.
That Snarl amid All the Goddesses
My sister has two birthdays, born from one woman to give to another, separated by religion and the cynical snarl of a nun that my mother can never forget.
My mother gave her up before she met my father and discovered his infertility. I came later, restoring a semblance of sanity for a while, until he found that same snarl.
My real mother is a goddess, of course. Identity is easy to construct when you haven’t a single clue and only have one birthday.
Treasure in the Chest
In a small wooden trunk, now roughened and rusty but too rare to disregard, bought one rainy Sunday after a ferry ride to the north of the Dam, I keep the treasured beer mats we wrote numbers on, your name pressed permanently with pen and potential into the round card.
I sometimes run my fingers over your letters to remember what it was like to feel that alive.
You are soft shadow, now, in a room of light where men lean in, a blinding light of lust and longing and then you; this soft suggestion in the shadow. And then, at times, you are light when all else is drowned out in darkness and touch not to be trusted but for you; a ray of reassuring remembrance, alight in the distance.
I kissed other lips, Dutch lips, below a head of oblivious blond hair, once, as you sat across from me watching, as if to show you that I too could devour someone else while still wanting, still watching, still running thoughts over that imprint of passed potential.
You are there, have been here, I’ve been told; smiling, laughing, walking towards the centre when I’ve already taken to the road, though you too are taken, were taken, even, back then; not mine, not ours, not even minutes.
In a small wooden box, now roughened and rusty, memory has no attachment to time and possibility no tie to the destiny we cannot draw.