For you who have lost yourself loving another.

I don't know who I am anymore.  I think I have forgotten who I used to be. What I used to be...
I had always been a very confident person. Cock sure of what I wanted. I knew who I was so there was no cowering at anytime. I was vivacious and bold. Daring...but now I am a pitiable shell of what I used to be.

How did I let go of myself?  Where did I get lost? How did I become this soft blob? Where did I switch my identity? I look at my image in the mirror and what I see scares me.

When did I become that kind of woman? That woman who hates to see her body because of its many imperfections. The same imperfections I used to wink at and say "I love you regardless"? When did I cower in shame at myself? Why do I suddenly see all the warts on me? When did I start to look for validation from another?
Why do I cower in shame when he comes in and I am naked? How on earth did I get to this point? I still remember how we couldn't get our hands and eyes off each other a while back. Indeed it seems like several lifetimes right now.  Our heated lovemaking sessions. The passion that permeated our very being. The look of adoration in our eyes. We were each others drug. We needed each other to survive.
Help me understand why in God's name I would want to hide from you. I couldn't get naked enough back then.  What changed?

When did you get tired of really loving me? When did the fever of our love slowly ebb away?  When did the fire burn out?
How is it possible that you have moved on and I can't just get passed what used to be? How is it that you have moved on? How did you get over the sheer wanton love. The reckless passion. The friendship?  Was any of it real to you? What about the promises you made when we were copying up?  In the heat of our love?  what happened to all of that? I can't believe our vows meant so little to you.

I have stayed too long dwelling in what used to be so much that I fear the train has left the station. I have forgotten how to live because I lived my life based on your every whim.

Today, I choose to live my life again. Like the phoenix,  I will emerge from this ashes and live my life
Goodbye to that chapter where I was gullible and needy. Maybe my need was what pushed you over the edge. I'm coming out strong. I am rising from the ashes and becoming even better than the person you knew me to be.  My heart may want what it wants but my head now rules my heart.

Today I make up my mind to be independent.  I don't need validation from anyone. A strong woman can handle the curve balls life throws at her. It may be tricky; I may get wacked many times, but it won't kill me. It will only make me stronger.

Thank you for helping me become me; for making me get back to being better than what I used to be.
But first let me tell you something. Just because loving you hurts so much doesn't mean I won't open up myself to love another. Wipe the smirk of your face. Don't think for a second that you have successfully shut down my heart to the possibility of giving or receiving love. You were just a nasty experience. And like every horrible taste left from food gone bad which has been mistakenly eaten, I will love again!

I'm going back to school.
I'm starting dance class.
I'm falling in love with me again.
I'm going to fashion school.
I'm putting my catering knowledge to good use.
I'm starting my business plan.
I'm living my life.
I'm free.
I'm me.

My Forgiveness Story

Hello good people!

Trust you have been good? I have been good all this time too in all sense of it.

I have also been struggling with my last post. If you missed it, you can read it here. I put up a thought provoking post on forgiveness and as I went home that evening, I was battling with my mind. I had to ask myself if I had truly forgiven him for what I felt he did to me. I realized that I hadn't forgiven him. I felt it was too much to forgive. He wronged me gannnn! Kai, that kind was too much. Then I heard that quiet voice that you can't ever miss say but I forgave you of all your sins, and the event still turned out well. Why not let him go? Then my mind went unbidden to all the times he had tried to call, or reach out to us. His own way of saying sorry. I squeezed my face. It wasn't the same as saying sorry jor. Because I act like I'm sorry doesn't mean I am saying I am sorry. And the voice says OK, and lets me be. But I can tell you that since that day, I have had no peace. I knew I had to share the story with you. And by so doing, I hope to finally let go the last threads of hurt and bitterness I feel.

The Him I am talking about is none other than my Youth Pastor.

The event happened to be my wedding.

The Us I refer to is Me and hubz.

After the 2nd proposal, the time when I finally accepted, T and I met with my parents and got their consent (not a small fit considering we are inter-tribal). We made up our minds concerning the kind of wedding we wanted, where it would hold (We were "Winners" but because of the distance to the church, I started going to a Redeem Church in Berger -Solid Rock Parish). So we concluded that we would attend counselling there and inform them that we are not getting married in the church as i had to get married in my own parents church. To be honest, I was running away from counselling in Winners Chapel, It is such a tedious process, and with the distance, I wasn't looking forward to it at all. Plus I thought I could get away with it since I knew I wanted a "garden" or event wedding and not a church wedding. You see I had always had this at the back of my mind since I was little, that I didn't want a church wedding, but a wedding at a beautiful garden with a pastor officiating. My dream wedding had no aso-ebi, not more than 50 people, no rice or cooked foods whatsoever, just finger foods....Am I speaking any one's mind here?

So we started the counselling and after like 3 sessions, I decided to call my youth pastor because I still wanted my dream wedding, and he agreed to meet with T and I. So we convinced him about our dream wedding (another reason I wanted him to wed us was because I took a vow when I was under his ministry just after secondary school to keep my self for my husband. So automatically, I wanted him to be the one who would wed us) He was quite pleased when T told him why i really wanted him to officiate and agreed with us. So we stopped our Counselling Sessions at Solid Rock and started with him instead. We finished the necessary sessions, discussed our wedding program, everything was in place and on point. THEN suddenly, disaster struck. He lost his mom, an being the first son, he had to make sure the burial process went well. Unfortunately for us, the burial date was fixed for the 29th and 30th of August in Benue State. Unfortunate because our wedding date was 30th August and 1st September. How on earth was he going to pull that off? I was confused. Why did he allow the date to be fixed so close to the wedding? How on earth was he going to be in Benue State and still appear for our wedding that same day? On a good day, Benue to Lagos is about 8-9 hours by road (good roads) and the roads were far from good. Coming by Air would mean him travelling first to Enugu before coming to Lagos (Benue Airport has been closed down for as long as I can remember) and there was no guarantee that the flight wouldn't be delayed...or even available for that matter. Let's not forget that we had already stopped the RCCG counselling, so obviously no road there at all. I didn't do counselling with winners because I was so sure that I wasn't getting married there. To cap it, my Pastor said Me and T should get a plan B. Plan B ke? He said we should get another pastor to wed us. How on earth could that happen? Where will I manufacture a pastor from? Of course no church would want to wed us under such short notice. Which kain talk be dat abeg? I came to you for help, you said you could help, at the last minute, when the wedding invite had long gone out and all that you said you couldn't help? Bitterness like I never knew it and fear came upon me. 

Guess the worst part of it? This was a week to the wedding. Then I knew what Trouble meant.

While everyone was running around doing last minute planning, I didn't bother myself, I was looking for Pastor to borrow. Like for real. It wasn't funny. Thank God for family! My brother in law called his friend and pastor at HOTR who was unfortunately out of town. He tried another one, who unfortunately had an assignment with his head pastor that same Saturday. that Pastor then linked us up to his friend who asked us to come meet him at his lodge somewhere in Surulere. When we got there, he wanted to know the whole story so we told him and begged him to please help us. He finally agreed and said he would do it just because it was his good friend that asked. He then asked for our names, asked to see our wedding programme and invite. At that point, I was cursing myself for thinking that all dreams had to come true. Shebi if I had done normal church wedding, all this wouldn't have happened? So he saw my surname on the programme and asked me some questions, turns out he knew my elder sister way back in school. Needless to say he agreed to wed us. Hallelujah!!! And he also gave a very stern warning. He promised that if by the time he got to the venue we were not on ground, he would turn back and go. Ah! Go ke? I drummed it in the heads of my bridesmaids till even me I was tired of the sound of my voice. No pictures, no videos, we barely had breakfast. I rushed my make up artist forgot to go to my dad to bless me before the whole event. All because we borrowed a pastor. And when there was a little bit of traffic on the way there, I almost started crying. I begged God not to disgrace me like that. Imagine not having a pastor bless you at the wedding?

Good thing, we got there on time, the wedding went well, and I didn't have to beg any random person to bless us. The good thing is He officiated in such a way that my mum was finally at peace. She had been holding her breath all this while we were looking for pastor to bless us and was wondering if the madness would stop anytime soon.

Anyway, 2 days after the wedding, the original pastor calls us to find out how we were doing. I refused to talk to him but T (God bless his heart did) and he acted normal. I.couldn't.act.normal. Nothing was normal. How on earth do you do that? He didn't even call before the wedding/during the wedding/or immediately after the wedding to find out how far. He didn't volunteer to send us a pastor to wed us. He didn't care period. And suddenly, he calls to find out how we are doing? Abeg, I don't do that.

He kept calling and I kept up with my attitude till T had to intervene. I asked him how he could be ok with it, he said, "we are married now, aren't we? If the wedding didn't happen, maybe I would have a right to act like you, but it did happen and we are happy. Deal with it". Mehn, I won't lie, I couldn't deal with it. It took a long while before I was able to talk to him on phone. A very long while, almost a year after I think. Talking about it no longer hurts as bad as it used to, but I am trying to get my release. 

But now I know better. If God can forgive me for all I have done, then how much more me? To be honest, it isn't easy. I want to hold on to it, but if I do that, I can't move forward. I will have to hold on to that spot and stay there and neglect moving forward. I will honestly tell you that I haven't forgotten it, but its easier to talk about it now without getting all emotional or having heartburn in the process.

Today, I choose to let him go and move on. He is man after all!

Have you had a hard time forgiving anyone? Have you finally forgiven the person(s) involved? Please share your experience at the comment section.

The Need to Forgive

Its a lot easier to ask us as humans to carry a whole car, even one loaded with barrels of sludge than to ask us to forgive those who we think have wronged us. Its easier to tell the next person to you "to forgive" any wrong doing than to take our own advice if the situation were reversed.

Sometimes, we pay lip service by saying "I forgive you" but then we still remember 10 years down the road what they did to us and how badly we hurt. 

What's the essence of forgiving if we don't forget it?

Here's how Wiki defines forgiveness:

Forgiveness is the intentional and voluntary process by which a victim undergoes a change in feelings and attitude regarding an offense, lets go of negative emotions such as vengefulness, with an increased ability to wish the offender well.

Its interesting what happens to us when we fail to forgive as against what happens to us when we forgive those who hurt us.

What happens when we fail to forgive those who wrong us? 

When we hold on to the offense committed against us, we end up angry, depressed and even self-righteous. We stand in the place of judgement and we condemn the "offenders". We take laws into our own hands and treat the offenders so horribly (especially in cases where the offenders don't even know they have offended us). The sad thing is in doing all this, we deny ourselves happiness. We can't move on. We are stuck in the same place because to hold someone down, we need to be able to have roots, whereas to move on we need to be completely free!

Source

"Hate is like an acid. It damages the vessel in which it is stored, and destroys the vessel on which it is poured"- Ann Landers

What happens when we forgive those who wrong us?

First remember that forgiveness is about letting go of the wrong done to us and the person who did the wrong. To be frank, its not as easy as it sounds, but its achievable.

Source

Forgive us the wrongs we have done, as we forgive the wrongs that others have done to us. Matt 6:9-13

As Christians, the Good book has given a simple prayer, which if we pray and fail to forgive, we are indirectly asking God not to forgive us because we can't forgive others. How implicating is that?

I mean your prayer says it all...Dear God, I want you to forgive me if I do wrong, just as I have forgiven those who have wronged me...or Dear God, please don't forgive me because I can't find it in my heart to forgive those who wronged me?

Make up your mind what you want!

It has also been revealed in the Qur’an that forgiveness is a superior moral trait: “But if someone is steadfast and forgives, that is the most resolute course to follow.” [Qur’an, 42:43] For that reason, believers are forgiving, compassionate and tolerant people who, as revealed in the Qur’an, “control their rage and pardon other people.” [Qur’an, 3:134] 

As Muslems, we are not left out either...It is considered a moral trait to forgive.

Interesting Facts About Forgiveness:

• Those who forgive are generally happier and (physically) healthier than those who don't
• Those who forgive are less prone to a wide range of illnesses than their less forgiving counterparts.
• People who forgive are less angry, more optimistic, confident and compassionate and show a reduction in experience of stress and an increase in vitality

Oh yes!

A word of advice from me to you...Let go of all the hurt and anger. It makes you look younger, feel better and cleaner too!

I wish you luck as you take those pretty steps towards forgiveness. Its not an easy journey but its one worth embarking on, if only for the benefits to you!

I leave you with this video to help you as it did me:

Have an Emaleecious Day!

Credit:

• Dale Patridge
• Wikipedia
• Wikihow
• The Holy Bible
• The Holy Quran

A walk down memory lane

I'm becoming quite regular here...#shinesteeth. But I won't praise myself so much because I am not even predictable anymore. Something tells me deep down that after my self-praise, I will just revert to my old ways... #sigh. May God deliver me from myself.  Did I hear an Amen?

How are you doing? Chopping life with double hands I presume? Chop am well. That's the way forward. But no mago-mago sha. God hates false things!

Yesterday,  'Toro and myself were on our way to work and somehow the convo shifted to how our parents brought us up. We compared our growing up days to the way kids these days are brought up. What a world of difference!!!!

An example- I remember clearly one day when a family friend came visiting. For some reason I can't remember, I didn't go to school. Herself and my mum had a good visit and as she prepared to go, she dipped her hand into her purse and came up with some money for me to use to "buy biscuits" for myself. Of course, I looked to my mom for permission. 

Now for those of you who don't understand what this means, this is for you.-Permission had to be obtained from one's parents or guardian before any activity or action is taken, especially when it involves a third party. Otherwise you as the "innocent child" will be responsible for whatever comes your way- usually in the form of: a beating; pulling or boxing of the ears; hard knocks or harsh comments (this usually made you wish for a beating). Now note that permission to proceed with a particular action was never verbally given. It was an unwritten rule. This permission was usually given by the subtlest movement of the eye. So subtle was it that no facial muscle moved, and if the child in question wasn't fast enough, he or she would miss it completely.

  

So I looked up to my mum for permission and I instantly knew taking the money was a bad idea. So I politely declined and thanked the kind aunty. She insisted and I said no again. Shebi any other person would have withdrawn the offer? This alakoba woman was still giving me the money. At that point, my mom was like "don't you want to take it?" I looked up in surprise because I knew without  a shadow of doubt that I didn't miss her initial eye signal. My mom's eyes said no, but her mouth kept saying take it. Ah, my brothers and sisters,  that day I knew I was in trouble. How was my less than 10 year old brain supposed to know right from wrong at that point?  I kept saying "no thank you" and was wondering what in God's name I was doing in the parlor when this woman decided to go and getting irritated that she was insisting I take the money. Abeg, na by force? I said I don't want and you are still insisting. Hian!

-If jazz were popular in those days we would have concluded that she wanted to use me for rituals or for what ever dark purposes she had in mind. But as our minds were still clean then, we just knew that she probably just wanted to be nice. -

Finally, when she got tired of our cat and mouse game, she forced the money into my hands and turned to go. Even then, I knew it was final, there was no returning it. I closed my hands tight over the money, thanked her and prayed that it wont make me cry (remember the options above?). I sat and waited for my mum to return from seeing her off. As soon as the door opened I ran to her with my outstretched hand and showed her the money her friend had just given me (like she wasn't there when it went down). She just smiled and said something like "you are smart" but I honestly can't remember.  What amazed me was that she just walked into the kitchen and that was the end of the whole thing. 

Fast forward to children of today who don't even know what the "eye signal" is. I recently heard of a "smart Alec" whose mom was giving him the eye so as not to do something. The boy didn't understand  and since we encourage our children to speak up these days, she allowed her boy come up to her and embarrass the living day light out of her by asking "mommy, what is wrong with your eye? Why are you doing it like that?' The mother just kept quiet. Hahaha. The kids that were raised in my time definitely wouldn't have tried that.

What do you remember about "discipline" growing up? Please share your experience!

P.S. I heard about Kefee's demise and it made me so sad. Such talent...and at her youth too. May her soul rest in peace. May her loved ones also be comforted in Jesus name. Amen.

My Whirlwind Weekend

Hello Fam.

I trust you had a great weekend like I did? Yes? #high five.....No? too bad...Next weekend will definitely be better.

I came here to tell you all about my weekend. It was a whirlwind of activities. I learned valuable lessons too.

On Saturday morning, I woke up and just felt like a fight!

Seriously, I don't know why, but I needed to get the fight out of me. Who else to unleash it on except my darling T? The poor dude was still sleeping, so I woke him up with a tap. If only he knew what was coming his way, he probably wouldn't have answered me. Hahaha.

Anyway, I asked him to please pamper me (trouble dey sleep oo, yanga go wake am). He looked at me like I had lost my marbles. So I calmly repeated my request. I told him I needed to feel pampered. I wanted him to buy me stuff just because, take me out every time and especially when I make a request, cook for me and all that. My husband looked like he was in a nightmare. He asked if I was ok? and I got up in a huff and stormed into the bathroom. I stopped talking to him at that point.

My sister Eky came to pick me up from my house about 10 ish to go to hers as we had a few things to sort out at her  place. As always, we found ourselves heading to Balogun Market. She picked up a few things and we left to go to her house. I had a good time there and before I knew it, it was time for T to come pick me up. I think I forgot to mention that I wasn't talking to him at this point. 

On our way back, he asked me what I wanted to have for lunch. I told him I wasn't hungry meanwhile, I was very hungry, but my pride wouldn't allow me. I mentally planned to rustle up something when we got home. Upon getting home, I went straight to bed, I was totally exhausted. My plan was to lie in for 30 minutes tops then go find what to eat. Next thing I knew, I woke up after 2 hours. Actually, my stomach was growling at this point. I just walked to the kitchen and took a handful of garri, added milk and sugar and enjoyed my simple quick fix meal (I love garri with milk btw) in the palour while T was watching something on TV.So after my meal, I went back to the room to just chill and probably watch TV and just when I was very comfortable (that sweet point when sleep creeps in) T came into the room to remind me about the Spirit of David's "Man on Fire Show". So I got up and got dressed. I looked nice if I must say so myself, and was waiting for T to comment. The bobo no even look my side. To get his attention, I started taking selfies...He just didn't grab the scope. He walked to the car and was waiting for me to come in. I got in and we went for the show. The show was amazing! I can't even start describing each act but I know I'm not going to miss the next one!

During the Show, T tried placing his hands on my chair. Automatically, that would have been my cue to cuddle up, but these were not normal circumstances, so I stiffened my spine and sat up. (Na wa ooo, before before, he used to beg me wella, now my tricks have become old and I have to develop new ones :). Like very quickly too)

So after the show we briefly stopped to say hello to a few people we knew and went our way. I still wasn't talking, but I had enough manners to say thank you (yep, I was raised well after all). After a while, he was like "Are you still fighting with me?" I said yes. We kept driving on in silence. By the time we got home, I got down from the car, but not before he asked if I was still fighting him. I said yes while trying to shut the door. Hmn, my brethren, that's when I knew that you don't fight with children of God! Not that I am not a child of God, but I looked for trouble deliberately. In the process of trying to shut the door, my right thumb refused to leave it, somehow the hand got jammed in when the door was slammed shut. Mehnnnn! I saw the sun, the moon, all the mountains, valleys and the rivers in this world. The pain entered my brain and I couldn't even scream. At the same time, I peed on myself instantly. The pain was out of this world abeg. Nice man that he is, he wound down the glass to ask if I was ok, I just mumbled a reply and ran into the house. I ran to the toilet to empty what was left in my bladder and I was lamenting to myself. I was in that state when he came in and saw me. The first thing he said was "you peed on yourself?" I could only nod a yes, then he smiled and asked if I was ok. I nodded in the affirmative then he left me to do my business. I cleaned up and went straight to bed.

Sunday morning, I woke up and decided not to fight again, I didn't even have the strength. So I tapped him awake again. This time, he opened just one eye to look at me, then when he saw that I didn't have my fighting face on, he opened both eyes and asked if I slept well, I said yes. I asked if he did too, and he said yes. Then I told him to tell me sorry. The sleep cleared from his eyes. He was like "babe, are we going through this again?" I said no, but that he had to tell me sorry for all that happened yesterday.

T: Sorry?

Me:  Yes. Say sorry. You made me go hungry yesterday, I almost lost a thumb and I cried myself to sleep.

T: How did I cause any of that?

Me: Just say sorry. If not, I will fight you dirty today and it wont be funny.

T: I will tel you sorry, but you have to apologize to me first.

Me: What? Apologize? What for???

T: For not talking to me all through yesterday.

Me; I roll my eyes and huff.

T: Ok, I'm sorry.

Me: Ok. I have heard.

He looks up in surprise, and starts laughing. He already knew I wasn't going to apologize at all.

Me: I don't want to fight with you again. Its hard to stop myself from telling you things. I'm sorry for being difficult too. I can't promise it wont happen again, but I will do my best.

T just smiled at that point....

We got ready for church. Attended first service left church. We were on our way to my parents when he got hit by a taxi driver for Orange Cab.  The taxi guy hit a Merc, and was probably trying to speed away when he brushed the car. We ended up wasting 2 hours just arguing and talking and asking for the way forward. Finally let go when we realized that the owner of the Merc wouldn't release the taxi to us to hold as surety.

Still made it home to my parents place, had a good time, then stopped over at the Kuye's residence where we had delicious dinner. Mrs. K made a delicious pot of Chicken stew with crabs and white rice. So nice, I had to take a bowl of the stew home. 

As I was preparing T's lunch bag against Monday, I asked innocently if he wanted Mrs. K's stew or mine for his lunch. Next thing i heard was "Alakoba"! So I was like "excuse me?" and he said, "So you want me to say her stew, then you will find who to fight with abi? So you will say later that -he chose her stew over mine.-Hmn, I know what will happen, and I don't want to deal with it. Please I want your stew. I just burst out laughing.  What can I say? Men learn very fast!!!! (adjusts halo)

In all it was a good day.

I am very pleased to announce that there were no misfortunes (to me) after that.

Big lesson learned- Don't go looking for trouble...It always comes back to you in a nasty way.

Have a great week ahead people!

...and Emaleecious had a great fall!

No be small thing ooo!

My first comment is that people are wicked shaaaaaa! 

Chai!

Dia ris God oooo.

This morning, I woke up but wished I could just call in sick. I didn't even want to get up from bed at all. So I did what I would do on days like this, called my mum (yep, she just has a way of making me get up from bed). We gisted for a while and she encouraged me to get up and get ready to go to work. I dropped the phone, had a bath and picked out my outfit for the day- A multi-color stripped top and a white chiffon pleated skirt. Then I looked out and noticed it had started to drizzle and it looked like a heavy rain was in the plan. I tried changing my outfit...tried 3 other outfits, but they just wouldn't do, so I picked out this Ankara dress I just had made. Between me and you, its Ankara, but I'm not telling anyone in my office that. I plan to keep smiling if they ask me what it is. Anyway, I had the liver to pick out this outfit for a Thursday because:

1. My boss is out of the office :)
2. The HR Manager is also out of the office. :) :) :)

And hey! Why can't I even wear Ankara to work sef? Anyway, I picked up my bag and left the house jejely.

I had just walked out of my apartment premise and was still at the side of the building when it happened. I took a step- left foot- and was lifting my right foot to take another step when I felt my left foot turn to jelly. Too late! I had already lifted the right foot in the air. Mehn...Things happen so fast. Split second doesn't even qualify for how fast the shit happened. I found myself on my knees (humbled) and i was sliding further before I used my palms to break the fall. My first thought was Oh no! Then of course this spiritual being woke up. "Blood of Jesus!!!" At that point I remembered I didn't anoint myself like i do daily. Anyway, I quickly asked for God's "special" covering, and looked around. ( I can't remember the last time I fell).

Hmnnnn. My brothers and sisters, (#clapping hands in a story telling way#) do you know people were looking at me? No one even said sorry!!! Ahan!!! They just carried their faces when they saw I was ok. Chai!!!!! Dia ris God ooooo!

No one even offered to help me up or anything. I just carried myself up jeje and continued my waka like nothing happened. After all, na only me kuku waka come.

After I had left that immediate vicinity, I checked and saw that my knees were bruised and I was bleeding. I couldn't help the tears that sprang up in my eyes. (Funny, I have always been that way as a child. Each time I have an injury, I would be fine until the blood comes up...then the wailing would begin). The only thing that stopped me from wailing today was:

1. I like to think I have grown a bit
2. I am now married. Hubby has warned me to stop crying in public..(haha. Like that can take away the pain) Do you remember the dress saga with the tailor  "tail"? Click here to read
3. I want to believe I look really nice today. It won't do to have anyone think I'm a cry baby jor. So I did the right thing by Squaring up my jaw, stiffening my spine and doing the Kanye shrug. haha.

So on my way to meet up with Toro (Remember I said she was my benefactor? Always looking out for me) I had already started planning how I will call in and tell the office that I just couldn't make it as I fell down. I would make my voice sound like I was really distressed and was not fit at all to work; or I would just... Somehow, I just found my self at work. There was no point. My boss has been really good to me particularly with all the sick off's I took last year as a result of those nasty headaches. (Thank God for sustained healing)

The good thing about my office is, when I finally made my dramatic announcement of how I fell, everyone was so nice to me and came over to check out my knees and a Dr. even helped clean me up real good. I really felt like I had a family. I also felt very good for coming to work too because the attention I was looking for (which I didn't get) when I looked up after my great fall was greatly compensated. Oh, You mean you didn't know that I like attention? What do you know about me then?

Ok, let me confess! When she cleaned me up, I couldn't help the tears that came into my eyes...spirit is deadly on wounds abeg. These past years, I have only used Mentholated spirit to clean my hair, so putting it on an injury was like fire on the skin...

#sigh

I made myself a huge cuppa cocoa and i'm blogging! #huge grin...

When last did you fall in public? Or anywhere at all? Please share your story!

Samira

Hello Blogsville,

Hope we had a great weekend? Did you get to read my first attempt at a short story? If you didn't you can read it here- Ikubiela- I really want to hear your comments (as genuine as it gets) so please feel free to use the comment box. 

The post below- Samira- is another attempt at a story. Turns out I have plenty stories in my head. I didn't even know until I made an attempt.. Again, please feel free to use the comment box below to air your opinion.

...And don't forget to share it too! Be generous #wink

Many thanks,

Emaleecious.

***********

Samira huddled in the furthest and darkest corner of the room as the footsteps sounded closer than ever. All the way up the stairs as the footsteps got louder, she prayed and beckoned on Allah to save her from the ordeal even though her heart knew there was no way out. Closer and louder, the heavy footsteps sounded in her ears, till the door knob turned quietly. She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her. The demon was about to descend on her again, and would assault her senses until it was sated. Oh Allah, please help me! She cried.

The door opened and her nightmare walked in. From her hiding place at the corner she knew the game was up because Alhaji had worn only his Jalabia. If he had worn his Babariga, then he may have gone out after playing with her without putting her through the hellish nightmare.  She wished he was in his work outfit, and then maybe her little heart would have been spared the trauma that was to follow.

“Samiiiirrrraaaa. Samira, Sami…I see you! Come out and greet your husband like I taught you to”. Samira grimaced. How he could call himself her “husband” was beyond her. He was older than her father!!! Surely the word he needed was “grandfather” and not husband. Her body shook in revulsion as yesterday’s memory forcefully made its way to her mind. Shivering, she brushed it away, pasted a weak smile on her face and came out of the corner.

“Good evening my husband” she said. “I hope you had a good day at work?” She was still on her knees, waiting for him to give her the order to rise. But instead of an answer to her question or a command to rise, she felt his hands grope her tiny breast which was just beginning to show signs of promise. The same breast her father had teasingly called “Groundnut breasts” and said was “not ready for a beginner’s bra”. He pinched her hard and she couldn’t help but cry and shrink away from his touch. He had anticipated her move and had already used his other hand to hold her head down, forcing her to remain in her bowed position. Samira gritted her teeth in pain but refused to show any sign of fear. He fondled the other breast for a while then asked her to get up and go to the bed. Her panic knew no bounds. Oh Allah, she prayed, please see me through. She got on the bed and he tore off her Kaftan to expose her skinny frame. He tooted at no one in particular and told her “with a few more sessions, you will become a fully grown woman.  Then you will be ripe for me and I will enjoy the fruit of my labour”. He chuckled at his private joke then proceeded to remove his Jalabia. Samira closed her eyes as she waited for his violation to take place. She knew her trauma had started when she perceived the disgusting smell of garlic and tobacco. He placed a damp kiss on her forehead. He went on to kiss her mouth making her gag, then went downward to her stomach, leaving a wet trail in his wake.

****************--------------------------------------------------****************

She shivered and deliberately forced her mind out of the environment just like Bilikisu had taught her. She took her self back in time to her time as a child in her father’s house. Oh Baba, how could you sell me off so easily her heart cried? You always told me I was your favorite, yet this is how you make me see it.

Her mind wandered to the day her mother called her to her room and locked the doors in the face of her brother Amir. She said she had something to tell her. Samira in all curiosity couldn’t wait for the discussion. Her mother had sat her down and told her that she had reached the time where she would be groomed as a woman. She hadn’t understood what her mother was saying. In a sad voice, her mother asked her to lift up her blouse and touched her breasts. She then told her that she had gotten her some beginner’s bras which she would have to wear every day. Samira asked her why and her mum told her she was growing that she needed to start dressing like a woman now. Her mother proceeded to tell her many other things about menstrual periods, being a wife, pregnancy, child bearing and motherhood. But all that seemed confusing to her. The more her mother talked, the more confused she became. So she told her mother, if I see blood, I will come to you instantly, but her mother shook her head sadly while holding back her tears and said, “Sami darling, no one knows what tomorrow will bring. Just try to remember all I have told you. One day you will understand”. OK, Samira said. Before leaving the room her mother said softly to her. Sami, don’t tell anyone what I told you today, especially about your growing breasts, not even your father. Samira looked at her, surprised she would ask her such. But mother, you know I keep no secrets from father, how can you ask me to do that? Her mother had suddenly aged in front of her and she replied her by saying, “Please Sami, for your own good. Let this be our own little secret. Telling him now isn’t the right time. Neither will it help you in anyway. Promise me it will be our secret?

She remembered how her father had come home whistling and how she flew into his arms. He asked her how her day went and she proceeded to tell him all that had happened in school and at home. As she reached the point where her mum asked her to come to the room, she saw her mother’s face fall. She hesitated but Baba prodded and she had to go on. She never even thought of telling a lie to her father. If only she had known…If only she was wiser…if only she could go back in time to that day to change the outcome of events…As she finished her tale, Baba lifted her blouse to check her breasts, teasing her that they were like unripe groundnuts and she shouldn’t pay her mother any mind. She giggled and continued chatting away being too innocent to see that the way her father looked at her had changed…All she knew was at bedtime, her mother had hissed viciously at her and told her that telling her father would be her greatest undoing.

****************--------------------------------------------------****************

She was drawn back to reality when she felt him force her legs apart and thrust his big manhood into her. She couldn’t help the scream that her throat released and he slapped her grunting his approval. He began moulding the painful mounds on her chest and pawning her all over. Disgusted, she shifted her mind back to when she knew she had put herself in harm’s way which happened to be her father…

****************--------------------------------------------------****************

She heard her mother’s raised voice. No one had ever heard her mum raise her voice before, so Sami was naturally drawn to see what must have riled her. She was going to burst into the room, but thought better and stayed by the door instead. She could her hear mum sobbing and saying to her father, “Don Allah, she is still a child. Let’s not do this. Please give her at least 3 more years let me teach her how to be a proper wife”. She couldn’t hear her father’s reply, but her mother continued. Remember how easily you used to beat me when we just got married, think of what Alhaji will do to her. Please let her grow up a little bit more, she will learn the ways of a wife and be ready to bear children too. Her father just grunted and stormed out of the room and came face to face with Sami. He sneered when he saw her, making Sami jump out of his way. She had never seen her father that way. His next words took the breath right out of her. “Get ready Samira. By this time next month you will be wed to my friend Alhaji Musa. He has greatly expanded my business and been there for me as a friend. If it were not for him, we would have been poor and living as beggars. He has asked for your hand in marriage and I cannot refuse him. Your mother will get you prepared”. With those cold words, he stormed out of the house. Samira remained frozen on the spot until her mother came out of the room and held her. She noticed her mum had washed her face and reapplied her make-up. Her mother acted as though all was normal, but things changed after that. She made sure that Samira was always in the kitchen while she cooked and she made the house maids teach Samira how to go about the daily chores.

****************--------------------------------------------------****************

Alhaji’s grunts brought her back again to the present. It was reaching a fevered pitch and she waited with irritation for him to cry out as he usually did and roll off her. She was fixed to that spot and knew that even if she wanted to squirm, his belly wouldn’t give her the pleasure or room to do so. Like clockwork, he gave a final high-pitched cry and rolled off her leaving a trail of sticky substance all over her belly and her thigh. She didn’t bother wiping it off. Alhaji will come in to her one more time then leave her to her thoughts in peace.

She had made a resolve to stop fighting him. Her senior co-wives, all four of them, had told her she had to “woman-up”. There was nothing she could do. At least Alhaji was very generous. He always gave made sure they had food and clothing and money to go shopping whenever they requested.

It was funny the way life had twists and turns. She had married a man old enough to be her grandfather and one of her co-wives was in her mother’s age grade. His youngest wife was 22 years old; she was just nine years older than her. They had become fast friends. Bilikisu had taken her under her wing and had promised her that she will survive it just like she did. She told her the easiest way to survive was to free her mind whenever Alhaji came in to her. “Just think happy thoughts…whatever will free you from the walls of that room where you are and everything will be all right. So far, Bilikisu had been right.  She always had something to dwell on when Alhaji came in to her and it worked like magic. But Samira discovered that Bilikisu couldn't help her fight the demons that came into her room whenever night came. Neither could Bilikisu’s words wipe away the shame that came over her each time Alhaji climbed off her. Bilikisu’s theory didn’t hold the revulsion she felt for men at bay. She prayed to Allah to seal her womb so as to prevent her from bearing female offspring who would suffer like she was suffering…like her mother before her had also suffered…and her mother before her as well.

Ikwubiela

They were obviously in love. Their eyes told the story. You didn't need to ask any question. The aura surrounding them spoke volumes, it was the brightest of pinks. You were around them and all you wanted was to whisper words of love to anyone you thought was dear to you. Their hands were always on each other and they were never far from each other.

When they announced their engagement, the entire community was in support and looked forward to the day. Together, they counted down to the wedding day. Theirs was a marriage created on the platform of Eros, woven in time and fortified in destiny. It left everyone thinking about their partners and what it would feel like to be in love like them.

With joy, the community woke up one morning to see her rounded belly. She was swollen, expecting a child. They rejoiced with her and she was never short of help. Her compound was swept clean every morning by unknown people long before she awoke. Her pots were always filled with water at every time of the day. Her back yard had firewood that would last her for many moons as did their meat supply which never dwindled. No one wanted her worrying over anything. As an unspoken rule, she was never alone. Be it her neighbor, her relatives, her friends or even passersby, someone was always with her.

With time, she grew heavier. Her steps slowed, she was always tired, but her beautiful spirit remained. Then one day, she told her sister who was picking melon for the family dinner that it was time. “Ahubi” ran to the farm to call her husband and then the mid-wife who would deliver the baby. After much laboring with the entire community camped in their compound, she brought forth a girl child. Alas, it was a dead one. The umbilical cord was wrapped tightly around her neck. She never rent the air with her tiny cry. Outside, the villagers waited and waited, wondering what was wrong. They wanted to celebrate. They had waited for this day since the day they all saw the bulge of her abdomen. They waited. And waited. Still no news. Then the midwife came out. She was fully dressed and ready to go. There was no smile on her face. She hurriedly pushed a path in the throng of villagers and left without a word or a form of greeting to anyone. Those in her way saw that her face was streaked with tears. After waiting for another 2 hours, sadly the villagers made their way home. There would be no party that night celebrating the baby’s coming.

Life went on as usual for the couple. Another 3 moons and “Elonye” noticed her breasts were tender again. She spoke with “Agaba” her husband and they decided to wait and see. The villagers later noticed the gentle swell of her abdomen, no one made a comment about it, but they were all happy for her. Elonye took the necessary precautions; she did nothing that would stress her. The elderly women in the village each gave her a piece of advice; some as ridiculous as closing tying her legs together others as simple as telling her not to bend. Agaba and Elonye would laugh secretly at the end of each day. As the date of her delivery drew near, Agaba tried to distance himself from Elonye. He didn’t want to be too attached in the event that this one wouldn’t stay. Elonye longed for her husband’s company, but he kept telling her he was trying to gather food so they wouldn’t be hungry.

The baby came in the middle of the night. His screams rent the air as he came into this world. Elonye was tired, but Agaba was ecstatic. He proudly introduced himself as “papa” to the baby. He held the baby in his arms until the midwife spoke harshly to him and picked the baby up and handed him to the teary eyed and tired mother. They all went to bed.

Agaba heard a scream and rushed from the mat where he was sleeping to his wife’s side by the bed. The baby that was so full of life the night before lay still and pale in his mother’s arms. Agaba asked what happened, but all he got was the sound of wailing from Elonye. How did this happen? What did this all mean? How could they lose the second one? The light went out from their eyes. They tried hard, but there was no comfort anywhere to be found.

Again, Elonye noticed her tender breasts which were as big as ripe watermelons. Her hips had started getting wider. She watched carefully and when the time for her monthly flow had passed, she knew she was once again blessed with child. But there was no joy in the knowledge. She thought to herself, this will be a “born-throway” just like the 2 before it. Her mother realized her line of thought would even kill any chances they had for the baby surviving and decide to live with them till the baby was born. She brought forth again with time and like the first one, she knew this one wouldn’t stay. There was no cry when the baby came out. The midwife immediately covered up the baby’s body and handed it to a stone faced Agaba. He knew without a word what he must do. He had done it twice already. Without a glance at Elonye, he threw the package into his farm bag and made his way out of the hut. There were no more tears to shed. Elonye was a shadow of herself. Her husband had become a stranger at the time when she needed him most.

In the village, there where whispers all around. A “child-eater” was what they called her. They said she used the lives of her children to make herself look younger. Then the name calling changed to “Omabonu”. As usual she will give birth to waste it. Elonye heard all the whispers. Agaba tried to be a good husband, but what was left of their love was a carcass of what existed before.

Fate was kind to her, she took in again. She told no one this time and tried to conceal her growing stomach by wearing loose fitting clothes. She went about her chores as normal and would never act tired or weak in front of anyone. Agaba found out one day when she was bathing and was shocked that she didn’t tell him. Her excuse was telling him wouldn’t make it stay. He hugged her and apologized for being distant and took more care to attend to her. Together, they waited for the “cursed day” to come so they would get over with it.

The mid-wife was surprised when she was summoned one morning to their compound but without question, she gathered her old bag and made her way to their compound. She thought with pity to herself how this couple had tried without luck to get a baby. She prayed and crossed herself before she entered the house and implored to Owoicho the God in heaven to please make this one stay for Elonye’s sake.

This was a difficult delivery. Aunty Aigba the midwife kept praying and muttering unintelligible words to herself. Agaba knew something was different, but he dared not move further into the room so as not to incur Aunty Aigba’s wrath. But he whispered prayers to Owoicho and promised to be a good father and even go to church regularly if He spared Elonye. He was so afraid to whisper any prayer for the child, that he just cried it out in his heart. By mid- day, Elonye still hadn’t brought forth and she was too tired. She beckoned to Agaba to reassure him of her love and make him promise he would take care of himself and find a good wife who would bear him strong sons to carry his family name. Agaba begged her and told her not to talk like that. He told her not to worry about children that they were enough for each other. He cried and begged her, but she was fast slipping away and he could feel it.

Then suddenly, a bright ray of sun filtered into the room like a presence, Elonye looked in the direction of the window and with a burst of energy and a look of wonder on her face, she gave a mighty push and the baby popped out, screaming her displeasure at being disturbed. She was a feisty one, looked as beautiful as her mother with skin so soft it looked like it was made of butter. Her mouth which still hadn’t stopped screaming was exactly like her fathers’. They all stared at the baby with bathed breath, afraid to carry her. Afraid to be attached. Afraid that at the last minute, she would go like the ones before her had done.

The baby screamed again and Aunty Aigba hurriedly picked her up and wrapped the shawl around her. She observed that the family hadn’t even bothered to buy anything for this baby. Agaba hastily brought down an old bag from the ceiling and rummaged through it for something to wear for the baby. He was crying. He couldn’t believe it.

Aunty Aigba spent the night at their place. She didn’t leave because she too had hope which had just been re-ignited. She didn’t want anything happening to this baby.

Elonye refused to give her a name even as the baby suckled on her breast. All through the night, all three of them watched the baby. No one said a word to each other, each engrossed in his own thought. By morning, no one moved until the baby screamed for food. Elonye got up and picked her up. She called her “Omabonu” because she thought that as usual, this one was born to be thrown away.

Everyone waited for her to die. Omabonu proved them all wrong. She stayed. She grew up to be a darling just like her mother. She was well brought up and she knew she was treasured by everyone, but it never got into her head. When she was 5 years old, she saw her mother throwing up one day and got her a cup of water. She asked what the matter was, but Agaba told her to go and get her shoes so they would go out. He had a gleam in his eye and Elonye’s smile couldn’t be dimmed. They were expecting another child.

The baby came and they named her “Ikwubiela” for indeed, it was only death that spoiled things.

Then another baby. Only this time around, there were two not one. Two very strong boys. She named them “Amedu” and “Okopi”.

Again, she was blessed with another one and she named him “Alechenu” for no one would have thought she would indeed have children who would live to grow up.

So random!

Hi everyone.

Trust you have been well?

I have been a good girl so far. Haven't gotten into any trouble of any sort...even blogged a week ago. That's a major improvement for me I guess. The thing is, the news flying in the airwaves haven't been so good for the past one month plus. I mean the news in Nigeria. Its as if the proverbial wind don blow because fowl yansh don open well well, and make I no lie, the yansh ugly well well. In fact e dey smell because e don rotten join. May God help us.

I thought I knew the meaning of corruption, but lately, I have been reoriented. It turns out that it is not even as i thought it to be...its merely stealing. Our defense is weak, our leaders are uninformed and are not ashamed, our people are turning out to be more resilient that I would have given them credit for. Its actually 50 days now since our girls were taken away. This isn't a movie or something. Its real. I can't even begin to imagine being away from loved ones with no way of communicating with them for so long. May God keep those innocent girls. May He comfort their families. May He give our leaders the knowledge and skill to govern us aright. By the way, did anyone see the BBC interview with Doyin Okupe yesterday night? I can't even begin to describe how it went. I studied International Relations, and I know all about making your walls seem strong and capable of withstanding any form of external pressure, but when you really need help, is it too much to just ask? Going to the extent of calling Nigeria one of the strongest Economies of the world is very laughable, I beg. Comparing 444 day Iranian hostage crisis to the now 50 day Chibok Girls Kidnap shows that he didn't even do his history research properly. He was just digging a very deep grave for himself and helping to push his coffin deeper. Its really sad!

Did you know that its now a fad to be nude? As in our so called celebs have finally made it acceptable. Everywhere you go, its one risque picture or the other. No one even bats an eye anymore. Modesty is a thing I fear this new generation may make extinct in the dictionary. 

In Blogsville, so many people have gotten married (You know yourselves), are about getting hitched, have babies, are expectant...congrats to everyone. May God sustain your joy, cause you to have peace and bless you indeed.

Oh, before I forget, be careful when people just call you randomly to "talk about someone" You may call it "gist, or plain gossip, but be rest assured they will call up other people and they will discuss your matter very well. I had a very nasty experience lately, and it wasn't funny at all. Such people should have the "friend tag" removed!!! and they should be trashed too.

If you do something nice for someone, is it too much to expect a thank you? I mean, not that you are doing it for the thank you, but its just simple what, courtesy? I was nice to someone I assumed was a friend, went out of my way to do something for this person, and not even an acknowledgement. No problem abi, life happens! Fast forward it to a few months after such person comes over to my place again and is expecting me to repeat same gesture...How on earth? Of course I treated the person like I would an ordinary visitor. Looking back now, I think the person just took it for granted that I am nice. But If you are not thankful for little things, how do you expect someone to help you in a bigger way? 

To my post title... I have been harassing Mr. T about quite a number of things (from helping me do the dishes, to buying me things, and making sure he listens to my incessant chatter, to answering my questions), but he has been a darling through it all. I am not a very openly emotional person ( I want to believe so) but I want to say I love you to this amazing man. Sad thing is I know he wont read this, but it doesn't matter. I will still express my feelings. :) I thank God for blessing me with such an amazing man.

On Democracy Day, Dee, T and I decided to just relax. We went for Ice cream at cold stone in the Palms, Lekki, then on to Freedom Park at Marina for fish and chips which I had particularly invited D for. Unfortunately, I have no pictures to show, but we had an amazing time! Wait, I seem to use the word "amazing" a lot lately, right? Too bad, I will use it very well, until it looses its appeal. #wink

Finally, I honestly didn't think this post will turn out this long. If you made it till this point, you are ...wait for it...AMAZING!!!!

Have a great week!

Happy Children's Day

Source

Happy Children's Day to all the children out there; to all those who have refused to grow up and to all those who remain children at heart but adults in body. lol

Happy Children's Day to the kids who have been failed by our country. Its such a shame that we were not able to protect you or keep your innocence, but you are still children and deserve to have a holiday like every other child.

Happy Children's Day to all the kids who are still protected, loved up and pampered by their parents...this is what childhood really is all about. I pray you never lose hope in your parents and the Society at large.

When God says "No"

When God says " No " to others its not nearly as painful as when it hits close to home. Its so easy to tell someone "God knows best" when it doesn't directly affect us.
But believe me, it hurts like hell when that "No" or "Not yet" is directed at us.
It hurts like hell.
Just yesterday' I told my friend "it is well, lets leave it in God's hands because we cant do anything about it anyway!" Today I asked God why He did what he did. And my answer came instantly. In my own voice. In my own words. Haunting me. - Not one Christian wants to be in Job's shoes even though we all want the blessings attached.  No matter how much the story( Read the entire book of Jobs) teaches us to be steadfast in our walk with God, no one wants to be Job willingly.

I also remember saying our life is like a puzzle just fresh out of the box. It's everything but organized. No matter how perfect the picture on the box, we still need putting together- one piece at a time.  The difference between our lives and the puzzle is this- only God has the entire picture.  We are just the pieces. We can't arrange ourselves or put ourselves in order till He helps us. The only assurance we have is that He will never mismanage or mis-organize our lives. That is our only hope!  If we do not hold unto that fact, we would run mad, because on our own we are nothing and can do nothing.

The final thing I remember vividly saying is- God wouldn't give any of us more than we can handle. Imagine giving a three year old a laptop bag with 4 laptops in it to carry.  That's not a very smart thing to do right? First off its way to much load for a kid that age to bear. Secondly,  its way too fragile...the list is endless. Its the same way God wouldn't allow us carry more than He knows we can bear. Now imagine giving the same bag to a teenager.  That makes more sense because we know logically the teenager is capable of carrying it even though it might be heavy. Its the same thing with us. It may be heavy and may involve us panting, pushing and shoving, but we are still able to bear it. Thats what He gives us grace for.

Now I remembered all I said yesterday and all I could do was cry. Knowing that God is in charge only makes me feel a teeny weeny bit better. It hasn't taken away the sting of what has happened,  but it sure makes me know that this blip means something in the bigger picture. That perfect picture I look forward to seeing.

Although weeping may endure for the night and cause us to ache and hurt like hell, our joy will come in the morning when God will turn around the captivity.  Then our mouths will be filled with laughter and our tongues with singing. Then those who don't know our God will say amongst themselves that Our God has indeed done great things for us! Although right now we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we are not afraid because God is with us, holding our hands, carrying us through the hot fiery furnace.  He promised that not a hair on our heads will be singed.

I choose to trust you Lord and hold unto the promises you made because I know that you are God and not man.

Amazing Things Happen in Lagos...+ Random Gist

Hello my beautiful people. One whole month has passed again. Can you beat that? I don't even know how the time flew by...well I think I was hoping it will fly sha. I was so broke this March #sigh. I couldn't wait for month end to get my salary. lol

Haha, speaking of being broke, my brother encouraged me to do "Ajo" that was way above me this year. He contributed half of the money and I contributed the other half. The sad thing is he credited my account for 3 months upfront. Apparently, I didn't get an alert for the 3rd credit and thought God had suddenly enlarged my bank Account. So I spent the money with abandon and thought life was good...until He called me to remind me at the end of February that He wasn't due to make another contribution till April. Mbok, where do I start from? See me sweating in the office that day. He had to send me his bank statement and I had to go back to my banks to verify the payments made too.  At the end, I had to squeeze my account till they bled to pay up my "gbese". At that point, I remembered why I had promised myself never to go the "Ajo way" again. #Sigh 

Lesson learned: Always make sure the money you are spending so carelessly is your own. #EnoughSaid.

Ok, here's a warning to you! This is a random and looonnngggg post. I have so many bits and pieces and I will put it up here once and for all. No one knows when next I will come up for air here. #wink

I will start with my topic- :)

This morning I woke up at 7am and snoozed my alarm till 7:30am. I was having a hangover from the headache I had for 3 days straight. Yeah, it wasn’t a typo, I had a headache all of Saturday, Sunday and Monday and when I woke up this morning, I gently moved my head to be sure there was no pain. I had made up my mind that if there was, I'd just rest and call in sick. Fortunately (I didn't have any severe pain, Thank God) and unfortunately (I wanted to rest for just one day) for me, there was no pain, so I just decided to laze a bit and go late to work. I picked up my phone and saw a message from @Adetoro who has been an amazing benefactor. She got bashed yesterday after dropping me off and had to work on her car. So technically, I was on my own today.

I finally dragged myself out of bed and got ready for work, got a bus and settled for the ride. As soon as the bus took off from the park, a preacher started. I hate it when people preach in buses because most times they expect you to give them an "offering" and to me that doesn't speak well of Christians. Anyway, he got to a point and decided to continue his sermon in Yourba. He said he will revert to English but wanted those who don't speak English to also get carried along. Suddenly, the lady beside him started interpreting what he was saying in English. The Preacher stopped instantly. Since he was sitting directly in front of me, I got the look on his face. It was priceless. From surprise to irritation to the thought that "I hope she won’t ask to share the proceeds with me when I'm done". Haha. Anyway, he couldn't stop her so they continued. I must say, they sounded really good together. 

I was the first passenger to alight from the bus and you totally won’t believe what I am about to tell you! As I stepped out of the bus, I stepped on poop! Yuck. I didn't even realize until I was trying to lift my other foot and then I almost slipped. So I looked at the floor and that's when I saw it. OMG! I was disgusted. Who is the blundering idiot who will poop on a paved walkway? It wasn't at the side of a street or something, but an open space!!!. Na wa ooo. We see so many amazing (not the good kind) things in this Lagos sha. Since I was already late, I wiped my shoe off properly on the pavement not caring about the mess I was creating. I am so thankful I didn't wear shoes made out of cloth but of leather today. At least wiping it off wasn't such a problem.

To more interesting things! Sisi Yemmie and Bobo Yommie won the "Big Nigerian Wedding" I am so excited for them. Fancy having a wedding completely free!!! in Lagos!!! Abeg, that fasting is working well for her biko. I saw her boo yesterday and I just had to shake his hand. I told him I needed to tap into that anointing abeg! Congrats #Yomyem. I wish you a blissful union.

On Sunday, I went to my Tl and saw all sorts of comments about the SSS shooting saga. I am beyond speechless! I can’t help the picture forming in my mind that our security as a nation is really lax. I hope we are able to sit down and tighten our security belt properly. Boko haram has played on our intelligence as a nation for too long!

Ibadan town! I hail thee. So many evil reports it’s unbelievable!!! Form the den of horrors to the "tongue-carrying-mad-man to the ritualists to the man who was "suddenly possessed” to slaughter a girl to ... Na wa ooo. I hope man's inhumanity will be tamed. Let’s seriously pray for Nigeria.

On a sad note, a friend sister of mine lost her job along with a number of others. The sad thing is there was no warning, they just resumed one day and by the close of Business, they had letters in their hands. Just like that! It hasn't been easy getting jobs and most of them have attended interviews and promises have been made and all that. I just keep praying that all will be well.

Somehow, it reminds me of life. We never know what will happen the next moment. We all keep saying "live ready" but how many people are really ready when circumstances turn unfavorable? We need an anchor to hold us in times like this because without it, we have no hope. No hope...no life.

I really don't want to end this post on such a depressing note, so let me think of something cheerful to write about....#thinking

Ah, I just thought of something. Two of my friends are currently in the US to have their babies. I wish them a smooth delivery, healthy babies and of course an amazing journey in motherhood!

Speaking of motherhood, Happy mother’s day (hey, its never too late!) to all the fabulous mom's out there. To the aspiring mom's may God give you the privilege to be called "mum" one day as well.

Hahaa. I just thought of another cool thing. My nephew is talking a mile a minute now. It’s hard to understand what he says but its sooo cute watching him. I love that boy!!!

xoxo

Opinion Poll: Ladies, can you hand wash your man's dirty clothes?

I am not out to look for trouble or wake up sleeping lions. I just want your honest opinion.

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Ladies, can you wash your man's (man= boyfriend, husband, friend-with-benefits or friend-without-benefits) clothes?

If your answer is yes, why? Please state your reason.

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If no, please state your reason(s) as well.

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Thank you very much for being honest...and for your time.


N.B ------Please note that I didn't say the following:

1. your brother or your dad or your sick friend. 
2. I also don't mean wash as in washing machine. I mean the regular hand wash. bowl/bucket/soap and water with your hands.

Hilarious things that happen

When you go to an organization for an interview how do you act or behave? Especially towards the people you meet or see there?

Personally, I tend to greet everyone, starting from the security man to the receptionist. I think that's first of all because I have been possessed with a "greeting" spirit and secondly because it really doesn't take anything from me to greet someone.

Something funny happened just now. Interviews are being conducted currently in my office and we have been seeing all manner of people- the confident, the not-so-confident-but-not-shy, the shy and what-have-you. Some come in with the impression that its already theirs, others are just hopeful...anyway I digress as usual.

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This lady just came in. I happen to be the only one on my floor right now as everyone I share office with is in a training somewhere in Ilorin. (I am not there because I am in a different group). So this lady walks in and begins staring at me. Her stare is so hard that it makes me do a double take. Do I know her? I also begin to stare at her intently, when I mentally go through the "files" in my brain, I realize I don't know her from Adam or should I say Eve? So I break the stare and get back to my computer. By this time she has reached her allocated seat, so she seats and finally has the presence of mind to say "good afternoon". Unfortunately, I do not respond. If I had done that I would have laughed and that might have been insulting to her, so I just pretended like I didn't hear her. (#Don'tJudgeMe)

Did she greet me because she was uncomfortable with the way I also stared at her?

Did she greet because she assumed I was an "Oga"? Its hard to tell with my big body anyway, but my face usually gives me away (way too cute if you ask me. lol) 

Or did she greet because she suddenly remembered what she ought to have done earlier?

A word of advice- I heard a long time ago that a Multi National Corporation  was recruiting and they stationed some of their HR staff in odd positions around their building. Most people coming for the interview assumed they were the security, cleaner and or receptionist and were somewhat rude to them, only to meet them in the interview room. I really don't want to imagine how awkward that interview must have been for them. We really don't need to show ourselves in terms of our degree of rudeness. 

Just be polite. Everyone deserves a little respect...and kindness too!