The men in my life *(1)

The first time I noticed it was in university. Everywhere I was or I went, I always seemed to attract one particular guy. No, not the way you’re thinking. 

Let me give you a general description of this guy: He’s nice, he’s kind, he looks out for me and he makes me laugh. And he’s always not interested in me or I’m not interested in him or neither one of us is in a position to do anything about it. 

But it all started when I was in junior secondary school. There was this guy: Folahan, who went to my church, was three years ahead of me and looked out for me. He got married, last week I think. But alas, I had to work.

And in senior secondary school, there was Tayo. And Bolu. Who I’ve mentioned here once before. And Wale. But Wale was a part time friend, who I showed my poems to, got advice from and knew not to get too closely attached to. Both of them, Tayo and Bolu had some of the same characteristics. They had super smarts, were incredibly funny (or maybe I really just like to laugh, regardless of if something is funny or not) and looked out for me. I hope never to forget coming out of a two hour crying jag and blowing my nose on my handkerchief or was it Bolu’s? Sad memory. Perhaps I’d best forget it.

And in university, there was Dimeji. Dimeji was special. He still is. Despite the fact that we hardly talk anymore. From year 2 to his graduation, (he was 2 years ahead), it even spilled over into law school, he was always there. One or seven phone calls away. He helped me somewhat through some of the toughest periods of my life, and even though we’re not as close anymore, I’ll always be grateful to him for that. I definitely don’t plan to miss his wedding, that’s for sure. But then again, he hasn’t even proposed to his girlfriend of an indeterminate number of years, so I shouldn’t be thinking farther than he is. 

*I’m writing this post so I don’t forget. It seems impossible that I’d forget people so incredibly close to me at various points in my life but the smallest pen is stronger than the sharpest memory. And even though I’m quite a private person and this post is definitely TMI, I don’t want my job to be the only thing I have left in my life by year’s end. I like my blog and I refuse to let my job take my readers away from me as well. So, make of it whatever you will.

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Happy Sunday Week 17 (The Christmas Edition)


The economy is baring its teeth and slithering to strike pockets like a rattlesnake, people are not sure their Christmas celebration will be as food filled as years past and the forecast for 2017 looks bleak.

But GOD IS ON THE THRONE FOR ME. REPEAT AFTER ME, GOD IS ON THE THRONE FOR US!

This year, tough and depressing as it was, did not have His permission to kill me or break me down and neither will next year. In fact, this was my best year yet. 

Today I’m going to give you lots of reasons to bless God. Here goes;

1. He Came Through for me– When I quit my job, I knew what I wanted and what I did not want. I wanted part time jobs or full time jobs where the working atmosphere was CONDUCIVE. I wanted to be able to work remotely. And I told Him this. I told Him, “Daddy, you order my steps. You know what I’m capable of. You know my hopes and my dreams. Daddy give me something for my hands to do. Something that is a stepping stone to further opportunities. Something that will bring in money. Something that I will constantly testify about”.

Fam, I have gotten so many part time jobs so far. From preparing business plans and market surveys to other things, He has surrounded and given me EVERYTHING I asked for. And I know He will constantly bless me even more.

2. The Lazy Day Chronicle– Sometimes for no reason, I don’t want to go out. And if I do go out, I want to go somewhere close and do/get everything there. But that’s not possible some days. 

That day, my fruit supply had been exhausted. No oranges, no apples, no nothing and I was too lazy to go anywhere else but the supermarket I was currently at. Behold, a lady selling oranges walked by me. They were cheaper, sweeter and the convenience was unmatched. See how my God works?

3. Locally grown rice- I’m super happy that Nigeria now produces its own rice. And the prices Ambode was mentioning on Channels News at 10 on Thursday were not too high. #LakeRice #Cheerstosustainableplantandanimalfarming #Nowtomakeitorganic

4. I’m grateful for the happiness of other people– My mom used to tell me that frowning caused other people to frown. And it’s so true. But smiling, making weird faces, will bring out those teeth and a happy head shake from someone else.

On my WordPress Reader, on my social media accounts, Nedu’s becoming, the kind of testimonies they’ve been receiving? It just makes me so incredibly happy. 

5. Social Media blessings– These days, I am so grateful for so much. The people I follow on social media, I participated in a couple of giveaways and won 2. The opportunities social media has brought my way – 2 of my part time jobs, the friends and networks I’ve made off it. I’m so grateful.

6. Friends and Family– I’ve decided to code name my friends on this blog. You’ll see that in action in my 2016 review post but not here. 

My friends have caused me to laugh and cry and be so grateful. Exceptional human beings, rainbow colored as you are. There was Yanmife who paid for me to go paint partying when I told him I was vexing for him, Anthony who came out of the blues one fine Sunday and cleared my doubts and apprehension about a project I hold incredibly dear, Nedoux who gave me a book I wanted intermittently when I thought about it, Ifueko who bought Garri for Breakfast by Seun Lari-Williams (yes, that is a plug. He’s a fantastic writer though; I spent 5 years reading his poems and they’re fantastic, so do the needful) and got me Voices by Yewande Adebowale (another fantastic poet whose works I love), Yinka who got me the Smart Money Woman among other things, Stephanie whose holistic beauty business must suffer from all the samples she gives me (and her Kaolin clay and Activated charcoal is the truth), Fifi, Tomi and Joy who poke and prod me and give me wise counsel and read my blog when I do like this for them πŸ˜’πŸ˜’πŸ˜’, Adaezenwa whose generosity of spirit is so clear,Ayo S. who is so amazing for all that our friendship is only a couple of days old, Mobi, who bought 3/4 of my Stockhub bag 😁😁😁, Ayo, whose movies have been keeping my brother super entertained and who had been a receptacle for all my experience (thanks for giving me the opportunity to be a big sister to you), for Victor who finally got on WhatsApp!, Semi, Samuel and Adaeze, others I met doing the most random stuff, who have impacted my life so incredibly much, and more people I can’t name lest this post become more unwieldy than it currently is. I appreciate you guys so much! Thank you for everything and more.

My family, for all they do. A whole lot. Man, I couldn’t love you guys more if you paid me.

7. Wattpad and Other Sources of Entertainment: For making my phone the ultimate source of entertainment and an interested spectator in my bouts of laughing, the stories I’ve read, ranging from good to not so good, the connections and acquaintanceships I’ve developed. 

The consistent findings of old and beloved movies on other people’s laptops. It just remains Easy A and all 9 seasons if HIMYM. Thank you God!

8. My blog: Although engagement reduced IMO, more people have visited my blog than ever before and most importantly, so many have continued to visit. Thank you!

9. For McVities shortbread– Uber handy for those peckish times. πŸ˜‰. 

10. For the season of giveaways πŸ™ŒπŸ™ŒπŸ™Œ. So here for that.

11. For Christmas food: Glorious, lovely Christmas food.

12. Because we can help the IDPs and the people in Syria, for programs like Christmas on the Streets, like BloomTribe, like Slum2school, for prison and hospital visits, for regularly held welfare services. I love paying it forward and I love knowing people are still incredibly generous. May that never change.

13. For self realization.

14. And the fact that you woke up today. New life. New grace.

15. I thank God for God. For Jesus. The Holy Spirit. For salvation, inner joy, laughter and incredible peace. I know whatever else, God has me.

What are you grateful for?

Happy Thursdays Week 16

So Trump won the election yesterday and Nigerian Twitter exploded in wails. I might write a post on what I think later but I don’t plan to post it on here. 
All you need to know is that whether Trump or Hillary had become president of America, the so called “leaders of the free world” (fantastic slogan though, America πŸ‘), nothing changes the fact that God is on the throne, constantly looking out for his beautiful, precious kiddies. 
Everything go dey alright. Breathe!


But I’d scheduled this blog post for today before I even realized it was the day after the elections. And seeing the results, I think it’s time I put on my happy girl, growing-Christian- girl- giving- testimonies- hat and shifted your focus for a little while.

Y’all ready? Awesome.

ONE

 I took a bike on the 26th of October to meet an “urgent” appointment. Straddling the bike, this car, from nowhere seemingly, while reversing almost toppled the bike over and crushed my knee.

But God was looking out for his baby girl. Right before impact, the car stopped. The okada guy was about to start berating the driver when I gave the car a solid but ultimately ineffective whack and told him to drive on. #notimetowitnesspointlessargumentsbiko

I’m just glad my knee wasn’t crushed. 

PS 1: Also people, do not call people to come urgently if you know you’re going to make them wait for thirty minutes afterwards under the hot sun. I hate that nonsense.

TWO

If you read the last thing I posted on here, you know that it’s in my nature to be nice. But I’m working on not being so nice anymore, it’s like a signal to people “see this one here, come and take advantage”.

The thing is, niceness is in my nature. It’s what I’m most comfortable with. My default setting. So now, I try to be low key nice. Low key because if you’re highkey nice, people will flock, take advantage and leave you so bitter and angry, you recoil at the taste for years. 

Amyway, back to the point, when I had to go for my CDS clearance, I noticed that the keke who’d picked me was only carrying me. So I decided to be his conductor and I called passengers for him until he had a full napep. 

Then getting closer to our destination, I noticed that he was taking me directly to the NYSC secretariat instead of stopping me at Bode Thomas, I told him to stop so I could get down. I’d had a bad experience with napeps taking you on journeys against your loudly expressed will and fully expecting you to pay them for, in effect, falsely imprisoning you.

There was another corper in the napep. And when I told the man to stop, he told me to calm down. I was already looking through my wallet for the complete fare to Bode Thomas (the Napeps charge an extra #30 to drop you at the NYSC secretariat). Barracks to Bode Thomas is usually N70. I was going to only pay him N70. I’d told him to stop, no?

When he stopped me in front of the secretariat, I gave him N150 for the both of us. He gave me back N50 and told me that although he knew he’d made me angry, he wasn’t going to let me walk when I was the one who called passengers for him. Gobsmacked, once again. And he gave the other girl a pass on the fare, because she and I were talking and he didn’t want to upset me. I was so humbled! I got off the napep with such an awesome feeling of wellbeing and the feeling of being highly valued.

PS 2- I am indeed quite well aware that there exists no such word as highkey. If in fact there is a chart depicting levels of niceness, there would be more than 2 options and highkey and low key would not be the names of the markers either. But they are the names of my markers and they work well. For me.

THREE

I am very thankful that God prevented me from hitting someone with a car yesterday. When I started driving, I begged God not to let me kill, hurt or maim anyone. Yesterday, he answered. And I’m more than grateful. Pray for me, please. Pray for my driving also.

PSA: Do not ever drive when you’re tired or sleepy. Ever. Bad stuff will happen. You’ll miss signs, forget what you need to do or hurt someone. More people driving when tired/sleepy get into crashes than people who drive drunk. Do not ever drive tired or sleepy.

FOUR

My friends just welcomed a bouncing, cute, gorgeous little girl recently, Her name is Oluwasemiloore Ajijola and she is so gorgeous you can’t believe it. Congratulations guys!

Oluwasemiloore Ajijola, we love you!

Their wedding inspired one of my oldest posts

FIVE

So, on the day of my POP (passing out parade), I aimed to get there super early because I wanted to get my certificate and return home to do something else I’d had slated.

I got to Berger, got on a bus to Iyana Ipaja. It was N250 but given that it had been N200 last year and they removed subsidy this year, that was not a red flag. I got on the bus, paid my fare and sat down. From previous experience, I knew the NYSC secretariat was a bus stop along the road so I checked my WhatsApp, Twitter and other social media, started reading a Wattpad novel etc. He called stops for passengers but until he called a stop called Ajegunle, I wasn’t particularly interested. I didn’t remember much about Iyana Ipaja from last year but I was quite sure there was no stop called Ajegunle. Still he kept on driving and reasoning that he might be taking another route, I stayed on.

Then when the last bus stop was announced and I got off the bus, I found out that I was in Ipaja, Ogun State. 😐

I explained my predicament to the driver who laughed his head off at me but told me to get back into the bus as he was going to Iyana Ipaja next.

When I finally got to Iyana Ipaja and collected my certificate of discharge, I hung around with Chima for a while and then with my friend Chinyere. I said hello to a former pastor of mine, at the Oasis. He’d brought his 8 month pregnant wife to the camp to collect her certificate.

When I determined to leave, I almost fell. Now, I have recurrent episodes of hypoglycemia and the main symptom of it in my body is dizziness. Incredible dizziness. And then incredible tiredness. I went over to a guy selling yoghurt (to increase my blood sugar levels) and brought out my money to pay but he kept right on wasting my time so I got a chair and went to sit under a canopy. Every part of my body was tingling (my body was trying to compensate by pumping blood faster) and I had to close my eyes because it looked like everywhere was spinning. Even under the canopy, the sun was still hot, I desperately wanted to remove the crested vest because the collar was choking my neck. So I did something I usually wouldn’t; I asked for help.

I went over to my former pastor and I asked him if he could drop me off somewhere where I could get a bus directly to Berger. He said okay and directed me back to my seat until his wife finished her clearance. Then, explaining the situation to his wife, they agreed I’d come with them. And they did not drop me at a stop where I could get a bus to Berger, they dropped me at Berger itself. New Garage to be precise. 

For people who lived in Lekki, this was over- and- beyond nice. Wherever you guys are, thank you. Thank you so incredibly much. May God bless you abundantly and remember this always in your favour.

(PS: I got a doughnut almost immediately afterwards to increase my blood sugar levels.)

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ARTICLE RECOMMENDATIONS

http//hopesdiaries.com/2016/10/18/the-god-of-all-comfort/- Very lovely article.

To the Girl Who’s β€œToo Nice”: You Can Be Kind and Be Strong

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ANNOUNCEMENT

Chinedu will be having a sewing club programne on the 19th of November. You can buy for yourself, your friends and family. Even boys will like it.
Details in the picture πŸ‘‡πŸ‘‡πŸ‘‡. Just make that call or send that email. Thank you.

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Talking to the traffic lights Pt. 2


On the 11th of January, 2016, I started work. 

On the 12th of January, 2016, I got a colleague. 

On the 18th of January, 2016, the junior associate who was already working at the office got back from her vacation.

What that meant was that there were 3 people working in the office doing the work of one. Don’t mistake me, when we were busy, we were very busy, but when we were idle, we were very idle. I took my dad’s advice and pored over the precedent file (Yes, there was a file labeled Precedents. Two actually.) Drafted all of them again and saved it to my flash drive. I’d look over case files too. But what I did most in that office was watch movies and read.

But I didn’t write this post to tell you about a boring PPA (place of primary assignment). It wasn’t actually boring. It was actually a little too interesting for my liking.

On my third day at the firm, I went to court with my colleague, without the principal. My colleague informed me that she wasn’t going to do anything in court that day and it was up to me to defend the case. So I did. And when the case was adjourned and a date was given, I felt like I’d climbed Mount Everest. Whatever else happened during this year, I’m grateful that my boss assigned me that case. In the course of that case, there were revelations of fraud, impersonation, forgery and theft. Very interesting. Two days before I left the firm, the judge struck out the matter for want of diligent prosecution. We were the defendants. πŸ™ŒπŸ™…πŸ™†πŸ™‹πŸ˜»πŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ’ƒπŸ‘Šβ˜πŸ‘†πŸ‘πŸ‘

Around the 10th of the next month, the carefully built up nice façade of our principal began to crumble. My boss/principal had this extra annoying rule. I started work on the 11th of January so all my salaries were due on the 11th of the succeeding months. In other words, my January salary was due on the 11th of February. My February salary was due on the 11th of March etc etc.
Now, when he explained this stupid rule to me at the end of January, I took it in stride, reasoning that I only had 2 more weeks until I got my salary. But that rule caused a lot of problems with the other girls.
The girl for instance, who resumed on the 12th, she only came twice a week and he’d told her he would only give her transport money at the end of the month. She agreed. And the junior associate who resumed on the 18th, her salary was due on the 18th of February. She was the first to leave. The way she left was so acrimonious it was odd. One day, around the 23rd of February, she, I and our boss went to the Magistrate Court in Shagamu, Ogun State for a divorce case. 
When we got back, she asked him again for her salary and he said he didn’t have the money but when he did, he would pay her. I was drafting a letter. But when I walked into our shared office, I saw her packing up all the stuff she came with into a polythene bag. Thinking nothing of it, I was stunned when I heard raised voices and then she came out, polythene bag and all and waved us goodbye.

 

The other girl left at the end of March. Originally slated to come twice a week, she’d been coming everyday because the principal had a talk with her. And then at the end of the month, he didn’t pay. When she went to find out about her salary, he gave her some stupid excuse and she left in a huff.

And then there was me.

I’d ask about my salary often but when he’d tell me to wait, I would. In March, he paid me half my February salary and then in the last week of April he paid me my March salary. When I asked about the rest of my February salary, he asked me to sit down and tried to determine if I was lying. I’m very nice a lot of the time. But you do not accuse me of being a thief and yell at me without repercussions. Imagine, he asked me how come I was still coming if he had owed me for almost 2 months. I told him the excuse he’d last given me and he screamed at me. I told him immediately, “Do not EVER shout at me again”. He paid me the half of my salary from February and all of my March salary and when I got home, I told my parents I didn’t want to keep working there. But they told me to see it through till the end.
And so, we did that whole dance, where he’d delay paying my salary as long as he could and around the six week mark, when I’d decided to leave, he’d pay me.
That is, until June. 
I had access to his email account. One of my duties at the firm was to summarize the emails he received from the ILO (International Law Organization). In one of the emails from the bank, I didn’t even open it, the first line was on display, I saw that the firm’s account balance was in six figures. I thought nothing of it but, when my salary became due and he gave me only half of it, I was angry enough to go on strike.I didn’t go to the office for 2 weeks until he called that the rest of my salary was in the office.
I understood that I was a novice at legal practice. I understood. But despite being a novice, no one could deny that I didn’t earn that salary. Pretty much everyday, he’d send me to court, or the police station, or to the Lands Registry and I’d go. Once he sent me to the Ikeja High Court and then the Ministry of Public Procurement on the same day, giving me money to cover only one of those trips. I went. Another time, he sent me to the Magistrate Court in Ikeja, then the Magistrate Court in Ogba then back to the High Court in Ikeja.

Nonso attempted to teach me how to dab. How do you think it went?

He’d throw stuff on the floor and expect me to pick it up, he’d yell at me and act like I was the most incompetent person he’d ever met, he’d ask to use my phone and credit to call someone and then never pay me the monetary value back (I stopped having credit in that office), he once tried to bully me into coming on Saturdays and on my CDS days (trying to deprive me of my weekly pineapple bread and movie but God was looking out for me, say Amen!) and when I categorically refused, he brought it up every time as a reason he hadn’t yet paid me, he either micromanaged me or gave me incredibly vague instructions and expected me to work miracles, he’d make stupid jokes about how I should go and get married because my time was running out and how I wasn’t looking so young anymore, he’d ignore the barriers of personal space, during my lunch breaks, he’d come and investigate my food and joke that I was ripping him off and using his money to buy food. 

Then my brother of little faith said I shouldn’t show these pics to anyone, because their eyes will bleed. Is that happening right now?

I was already on slow boil. Once, I was very sick but still I went to the office. And I clearly remember, at the end of the day, this man who knew full well that I was sick, drove by me, turned to look at me and kept right on driving. It’s not by force to be friendly with your employees outside the office, I understand. But when he had the nerve to give me only half my salary in July for the month of June, I got home and I told my parents again that I did not want to work there anymore. My mom told me to keep working there because “it’s not just about the money, it’s also about the relationship” and then she told me stories of how states had owed civil service workers for months. 
I told her that I wasn’t in the civil service. But I agreed to return.
However, the lesson hadn’t yet sunk into his head. So whenever he’d owe me again, I’d stay in my house. A favorite excuse of his, was that there was recession or that he had many more responsibilities than just to me.
Transportation costs had skyrocketed, still I came, he made me wait until 8:40pm once at a police station doing absolutely nothing, still I came. He’d asked me to contact the other party in yet another divorce case we were handling and based on that instruction, I spent 2.5 hours listening and comforting this person when I was cooking, and again on weekends, and again when I was asleep. Still, I came. He only remembered that he had stuff for me to work on minutes before I was set to leave. Still, I came (although after a while, I conscripted my father to come pick me up. He usually came around closing time and whenever my boss conveniently forgot until the last minute that I was to draft or do anything, I’d only do it until my dad called me to come out).
I was stupid. I realize in hindsight. But apart from the fact that I was saving up to buy a new laptop, much of the reason I still kept coming was because of the office manager. Victor. Now while I cannot claim to have many positive feelings concerning my boss, Victor always made me smile. He was the one I complained about my boss to and he’d tell me to calm down, he’d buy snacks for me, when it was Valentine’s day and Cold Stone was having their 2 for the price of one ice cream combo deal, Victor went with me. Most of the movies I watched in the office, I watched on Victor’s laptop. When Victor left in June, I wanted to mutiny.

Victor and the ice cream

But then came Ayo. Ayo was like a younger version of me. But completely awesome in her own right. She knew about Wattpad, she shared the same taste in music with me, she was incredibly funny and despite everything, she was calm, nice and regal in her day to day dealings with my boss. Once, when Ayo had left (she came for a month’s internship), my boss called me up one Sunday and told me to go with a friend of his to the police station and then he hung up. I called him back trying to get further instructions. Nothing. What was I meant to do? What was his friend accused of? Anyway, I went to the police station in the morning. Seven hours later, seven extremely boring hours later where nothing was said or done that wasn’t insulting to my client or myself personally, we left. The only highlights in that day was that Ayo came out in the pouring rain to give me 2 novels and talk with me at the police station. And his friend’s nephew dropped me at the gate of my house. Everything else, πŸ‘Ž.
When September came I was so happy. My mom was still telling me to keep working for him, see it through till the end. My dad and I were counting down the days until I didn’t have to go to work for him anymore. 

 

When NYSC announced that there would be a separation of Stream 1 and 2 and we would pass out on different days (Stream 1 was set to pass out on October 6th. Stream 2 on November 4th), I gave him a clear month’s notice that I would leave on the 14th of October. And so I did.

 
I remember my friend Aisha telling me that he was actually a nice man and telling me a story of how one boss didn’t pay his staff’s salary for about 6 months and when the staff took matters into their own hands, the boss arranged to have them beaten. 
Apparently, suffer head behavior is very common these days. I never actually realized how much of a toll our constant arguments/swallowing my words was taking on me until a week after I’d left the office. I’d had a constant, daily headache on one side of my head and I’d concluded that I needed to bring it to the attention of my parents, maybe get an MRI. Then I left the office for good and after a day, my head did not ache at all. I was so shocked. I never believed they were correlated.
But we learn our greatest lessons from less than ideal situations, don’t we? 

  • I got enough practical experience
  • I met a need
  • A combination of some of my savings and another source (to be revealed later) means I got myself a brand new laptop. Yippee! 
  • I’ve been to every court except the Supreme Court and mostly gotten over my shyness and stuttering in front of Judges.

But I have also learned that I’m way too nice. And I need to stop letting people take advantage of me.
That while the Bible says that “servants” work unto your masters as unto the Lord, the same Bible says a workman is deserving of her wages.

That if the workplace environment is not conducive, it’s best to leave. Jobs will come and jobs will go, my health is paramount.
That people’s advice should be taken as just that; advice.

 
That if I ever find myself at Ikeja again, talking to the traffic lights, telling them to turn red, so I can cross the road without getting hit, I need to come read this post again. Because affliction shall not arise a second time.

The devil is a liar.

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Funny picture post recommendations
http://zortura.wordpress.com/2016/10/21/sign-posts-friday/

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And you are cordially invited:

Protected: Talking to the traffic lights (Recap of NYSC) Part 1

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Lyrically Speaking… Again

For some reason today, I wanted to reread Emmanuella Onyilofor’s life affirming poem.

It brought back all these memories of a time in my life that was the catalyst for the creation of the woman I am now. In addition to that poem is the song I’m about to post today. 

The song title is BRAVE by Sara Bareilles.

And by the way guys, if you ever happen to meet her, hook a sister up. Tell her that she’s awesome and I really like the fact that she wrote such a relatable song. Tell her that her song made me stand up and start drawing lines in the sand. Because we are not dustbins and we are not meant to hold other people’s trashy words inside us. But if you can’t tell her all of this, just tell her I’m a huge fan of this song and I like her for creating it.

Long story short, behold *does dramatic fat Amy jazz hands*:

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You can be amazing

You can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug

You can be the outcast

Or be the backlash of somebody’s lack of love

Or you can start speaking up
Nothing’s gonna hurt you the way that words do

When they settle ‘neath your skin

Kept on the inside and no sunlight

Sometimes a shadow wins

But I wonder what would happen if you
Say what you wanna say

And let the words fall out

Honestly, I wanna see you be brave

With what you want to say

And let the words fall out

Honestly, I wanna see you be brave
I just wanna see you

I just wanna see you

I just wanna see you

I wanna see you be brave
I just wanna see you

I just wanna see you

I just wanna see you

I wanna see you be brave
Everybody’s been there,

Everybody’s been stared down by the enemy

Fallen for the fear

And done some disappearing,

Bow down to the mighty

Don’t run, just stop holding your tongue
Maybe there’s a way out of the cage where you live

Maybe one of these days you can let the light in

Show me how big your brave is
Say what you wanna say

And let the words fall out

Honestly, I wanna see you be brave

With what you want to say

And let the words fall out

Honestly, I wanna see you be brave

Say what you wanna say
And let the words fall out

Honestly, I wanna see you be brave

With what you want to say

And let the words fall out

Honestly, I wanna see you be brave
And since your history of silence

Won’t do you any good,

Did you think it would?

Let your words be anything but empty

Why don’t you tell them the truth?
Say what you wanna say

And let the words fall out

Honestly, I wanna see you be brave

With what you want to say

And let the words fall out

Honestly, I wanna see you be brave
I just wanna see you

I just wanna see you

I just wanna see you

I wanna see you be brave
I just wanna see you

I just wanna see you

I just wanna see you

See you be brave
I just wanna see you (yeah)

I just wanna see you (oh ooh)

I just wanna see you

I just wanna see you

I just wanna see you

I just wanna see you

*

Lyrics as always by http://www.azlyrics.com. Give them a big hand guys. πŸ‘ Farhanitrate and Prerajulization. Get the reference?

Edited as always by Obianuju J. Ayalogu. NB- I got sick of the purple box casing and so I edited it out. πŸ˜‹.

P.S- For further information about the time when those memories were fresher memories, please head on over here. Thank you!

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Article Recommendation

http://pathsonwater.com/2016/10/12/authenticity-and-the-social-epidemic-of-happiness/- This post touched me deeply. Why do we as people believe and automatically expect other people to always present us with smiling faces? Tears are NOT shameful, neither is anger, neither is being expressionless. We should put our best foot forward, that I agree to. But we should also own our emotions. Forgive the mini rant. It’s a great post.

http://pathsonwater.com/2016/07/05/defining-happiness-through-time/- I try to have my article recommendations direct you to different blogs but this post was so great as well, I had to put it up. Can’t recommend this enough.

Happy Thursday Week 15

ONE
In my new church, something I wholly admire are the welfare programs they regularly hold. From clothes, to education and food, everything is covered by the welfare department. And every once in a while, we have the health challenges of a member brought to the attention of the church for contributions to be made if for instance the person cannot afford the cost.
Last week Sunday, in the church, the case of someone who’d been involved in an accident where his kidneys and bladder were affected was brought to the attention of the congregation.They’d fundraised for him before but ongoing medical and miscellaneous costs had halved the money. A spot had been found for him to have surgery but they needed N600,000.00 in addition to the half left, to pay the doctor who was to perform the surgery.
Donation boxes were about to be passed. But while I was debating with myself as to how much to donate, someone donated all of it. All N600,000.00 (Six Hundred Thousand naira (only!) of it.
To be honest, I was happy and so relieved as well. My mind attaches to the oddest things, and I know, that if the donation had run for about 2 weeks, I might have done something I’d regret later, like given away all my savings again. But lucky for all parties, I didn’t have to. Just say a prayer for that person, please. It was such an uplifted moment in the church when his/her donation was announced.May God bless you whomever and wherever you are. May He cause His face to shine upon you and heal you and give you peace.

TWO

Last week Friday was the 22nd anniversary of my first birthday. That’s my over complicated way of saying I turned 23.

 No you can’t have any cake, I ate it all. But if I see any comments asking for *cake, be rest assured that I will ask for my birthday present in return. Quid pro quo, nay?

I didn’t post the birthday list thing like I did last year, because I realized at the #Blassion event, that I really don’t like people knowing all that much about me when I don’t know all that much about them. So, peace out. If inclined, please leave a birthday blessing for me in the comments. Thank you.

*Cake- Not excluding food, drinks, ice cream, all the lacha lacha associated with birthdays. It was last week. It’s been eaten, digested and err…

THREE

Story story….

So, I love eating abacha. Mad love it. It ranks among my top fave foods in fact. But after one super disastrous attempt making abacha for myself some years back, I started buying it. 

My dad would tell me on the regs, “Uju, buy this thing and make it at home. You can’t trust the process of the cooking of food vendors” and I’ll be like “It’s not like anyone has died from eating abacha outside. Even if I purge, maximum 2 days, and I’ll be a-ok.” (Not quite so specific but, you get the gist).

Until 5 people died from eating abacha. As it happens, I was in the car with my dad when they announced a cholera outbreak had killed 5 human beings. 5! All of whom had eaten abacha. 

I thank God my stupid pride did not cause my name to appear in the list of dead people. Thank God for me if you would, please?

Also, is anyone willing to make me a large container of abacha? I saw one woman selling some on my way to court yesterday and but for God…

FOUR
So one dude called me yesterday. He knew I was a lawyer. He asked if my “lawyering” extended to supply contracts. 

Sure, I replied and then he started giving me some very detailed instructions. Now, I was at the Ministry of Lands when I got that call and while I could hear him, I couldn’t be sure I’d remember, so I asked him to please send a text explaining exactly what he wanted me to do. 

He sent the text, giving me the number of someone to inquire about something from. 

Now, major red flags:

1. He said he knew me. I did not know HIM.

2. Why can’t you inquire about something by yourself? This was not something only a lawyer could ask. It was a basic transaction. Buyer and seller. What is my business?

3. What is my business? I make sure not to assume the worst about people right off the bat because that won’t get me far. But come on! I may be slow, but I’m certainly not stupid. You ask me to represent you, tell me someone will call me to give me money, you need me to inquire about something for you, something you can inquire for yourself. And I felt weird.

So I reverted to the lawyering failsafe; if you want me to represent you, you and I need to draft a contract which you will sign (I’d have insisted on seeing some identification as well), authorizing me to act on your behalf for a set fee. 

If I’d had any doubts that I was persecuting an innocent man, they ended when he swiftly said that he and I couldn’t do business if that was the prerequisite. 

Money is great, honestly. But I’m not about to entangle myself in something illegal or get scammed cos I don’t have patience. No. Everything good will come. At the right time. And it won’t make me feel weird. 

And to buttress my rationalizations, I got another, above board opportunity that same afternoon. 

Yay God!

FIVE

Although NYSC is not over for me as yet, I’m leaving my boss tomorrow!

I’m not going to go into details (yet), but I will tell you that I am so excited to be leaving and at the same time, super sad. 

But I’m leaving my boss tomorrow! 

Thank you God. For a successful completion. Because it will be successful. I did not steal, did not cheat, I was above board in everything I did. And I can’t wait to pack all my stuff and go buy shawarma. 

Thank God for me peoples! Praise God for me.

*

Author’s Note- I’m sorry if this offends anyone’s sensibilities, but what the heck is wrong with Trump? What? 

And Bubu, I get that you have laser vision for stamping out corruption and while the DSS’ actions are legal, why now? And, what are you trying to distract us from?

*

Birthday Edition Wattpad Recommendations

πŸ˜‰

Laura Jardine’s books- The Mechanic’s New Girl especially and all the others too. Really short books. I beg you, na beg I dey beg una, make una no read any book by this author anywhere people go dey look una. 

She funny well well. You go laugh. For me it’s not a problem, laughter is an integral part of my personality. I’m quirky, happy and lovable. That’s my “brand”, those are my characteristics. 

Take me Home- Blissom. Wow. This book was insanely good, I forced my eyes open all night to finish reading it. Wow!

Cell Phone Swap- Lindsay Summers/donotmicrowave.

 I’m making a sandwich. Two funny books at the edges and a serious one as the middle. This book is so funny, I crilaughed. It’s funny but it addresses some serious issues. I really, really, really can’t recommend this book enough.

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Birthday Article Recommendations πŸ˜‰ (yes I know I’m milking it. Don’t be jelly *tongue in*)

http://chynanu.wordpress.com/2016/01/09/fear-will-always-fade/ – Evergreen.

http://www.sabinews.com/no-i-not-suffering-child-tope-owolabi/- Precisely.

http://brittneyamoses.com/i-dont-know-what-to-read-in-the-bible/- So simple, it’s thought provoking.

Thanking the Blister that I refuse to let become a Scar Ep. 2

Earlier this year, I found out that someone for whom I had voluntarily looked like a fool in order to help was scamming me or at the very least, misrepresenting facts. Truth is, I had been a little suspicious. When we were in law school together, there were things he did that made me a bit suspicious. I won’t go into that.
I had done even more than you’d expect someone who was related to you to do but this person seemed prepared to continue scamming me and his whole family was in on it. I’d like to say I was angry but I really wasn’t. I was hurt, I felt betrayed but at the same time I don’t know the full story. And I don’t want to know. I don’t care anymore. Obviously some of the story is true but there are some bits that he forgot to mention, such as a very inconvenient addiction to designer clothes and an entitlement mentality.
If you’re Nigerian, you’ve probably heard rumors of a person who gave something to a beggar and nothing ever went well for the person again. You might have watched movies where the elder brother of a person would ask him to come back home for Christmas. Then, when he returns home and gives same elder brother money out of the goodness of his heart, he ends up dead the next day and his family are consequently treated horribly by the elder brother of lore, after which they sing mournful songs to their departed husband and father, begging him for help, one of them joins “bad gangs” and another gets tempted by bread and cold Fanta left on the roadside but eventually doesn’t eat it, but then, we see someone who does eat it and turns into a lovely chicken (I’m basically giving you the storyline of Onwa December here).
I should be upset. I know. But, before I decided on whether or not to be upset, I talked to God. You see, I had very strongly felt that God had wanted me to help that fellow. It was an incredibly strong feeling. I wouldn’t have done so much if I had believed otherwise. But this year, that feeling, that certainty washed away. I doubt God will ever ask you to do anything where there is an absence of need. And I had helped him anonymously about a week before he came, presenting another “urgent” request.
I asked God, “Why did you have me help this person? Why didn’t I just give everything I gave to someone who really needed it? Why? I’m feeling like such a fool today. I’m feeling so betrayed. So ashamed. And this shame, it is not my shame. By rights, I should not be feeling this shame.
I help people because you asked me to help people. I help others because your Word says that I should. That she that watereth shall also be watered. Why did you have me help someone who did not need it? Someone who was actively, along with his family, scamming me and mine. Why?”
And then God said, “The fact that he doesn’t need help now does not mean that he never needed help. Haven’t you wondered why you no longer feel any desire to help him? That desire to help him, it came from me. He asked me for help. I sent you. Now, I have withdrawn you. You once asked me, that whether or not you give things to people who actually need them or to scam artists, that I should give you the blessing of the giver and neutralize any plan to use your gift for evil. Can you say that I have not kept My Word? Can you say that you have not been watered?”

And I couldn’t. So I rested. But I refuse to give him anything else. There are many people, so many people who genuinely need help and I won’t help a faker when I know he’s faking. Not anymore.
I have many similar stories. Of people who burrow their way into my life because I’m supposedly nice and generous.
There was the woman who entered a tricycle with me and begged me to pay her fare. Actually the begging came after. She entered the tricycle, not knowing me from absolutely anywhere and looked me up and down. Obviously assuming that I could afford to pay both my fare and hers, she simply asked me to pay for her. I stared blankly at her, then she begged me.
Or the person I met at my sewing classes. The instructor is the one I actually blame for this, because he was the one who asked him to ask me for money. What, do I have Billionaire stamped on my forehead? Anyway, it was around the time I found out I’d become a lawyer and I believe in sharing happiness. But since then, he calls me almost every blessed day. And I’m crazy tired.
Once, I was walking back home from sewing lessons and I saw this woman begging. I walked by but, because of something (the fact that she had two kids), I went back and gave her some money. Then before I knew it, she sent one of her sons to shadow me. I mean, I gave her mint. And you can’t just have one mint note in your purse. How can? So her son walked behind me a long way off, asking me for money all the way. I actually planned to give him something. I did. But I wasn’t sure I’d have enough money left to pay the okada guy I planned to take, so I told him to leave me alone and he retorted something along the lines of “God will not bless you”. I want to say that I laughed but that statement made me so angry.
One of the funny tales I remember has to do with a certain woman who had a baby and was begging for transportation to go home. I gave her enough money to get home, then she looked me up and down, very contemptuously, might I add and said, “What about my baby?”.

When I was younger, as recently as 2014, I used to feel obligated to help people. Obliged to actually. Whenever I had the very human desire to not do a damn thing, I’ll remember my mom saying, “There are many people with very serious problems in this world” and I’d dip into my pocket and surrender whatever I had. There were times I wouldn’t have money for myself because I had given it to someone else who supposedly needed my help. Since 2014, I’ve come to realize that not everyone seeking help actually needs it. That not everyone who stands, kneels or lies by the roadside actually has a problem. I’ve seen a supposedly blind man look at a phone and make a phone call. In so many ways, I’m jaded now. I’ve seen way too much to believe everybody’s tall tales. I’ve been scammed a little too often to trust blindly.
Earlier this year and early last year, I promised myself I wouldn’t give a damn thing to anyone. I could actually imagine God laughing at me when I said that. I broke both those promises very early into the year.

But I’ve talked so much about the negatives. Let me tell you about the positives.

95% of every thing I own is a gift from someone. My shoes, my hats, my watches, my perfumes, my laptop. I hardly ever have to buy anything. The minute I think, “Ooh, I’d like that”, someone brings or buys it for me. No one ever had to tell me that if I give clothes, I’d get clothes. I wanted shoes, so I gave shoes. I got 4 pairs of shoes. I give perfumes, I’ve never had to buy perfumes for myself. In fact, I used to complain that people only ever seemed to give me perfumes.
This year, I want someone to send me a cake. So I will (complete the sentence).
There’s a lot of benefit to giving people things, honestly and no matter how many times I get scammed, how many times I get so mad when someone looks at my gift with disdain, I doubt I’ll ever stop doing it.

However, something I recently inculcated in my life, is to sniff out the motive for whatever I give. In 2014, I pretty much emptied my savings of 6 years in attempt to help God save me. Or take my life. Other times, I’d do something bad to someone, apologize, pray, still feel bad about it and then go on to give something I hadn’t planned to give. Guilt giving. I’m trying to eliminate that from my life. My top top top top love language is Acts of Service. I’m one of those people who goes awww when the man in a show cooks and cleans for his wife. I don’t awww as much when he brings gifts. Case in point- How I met your mother. The episode where Barney scrubs Ted’s apartment and fills the fridge with milk. His motives were “selfish”(I don’t think so personally), granted but Awwwwwwww! (Watch it). One of my most watched episodes of all time.
And I decoded all the things I wanted someone to do for me, no strings attached and I started doing them for others. Stand up so I can sit down in a BRT? Check.
Pay my transport fare? Check, due again though.
Buy me lunch? Check but it’s due again.
Send me a cake. Negatory. Anyone have suggestions?
Etcetera etcetera.

Sometimes, I do stuff that specifically can never be repaid.
My point is simple. Wherever you can, whatever you have, do something for someone else. It doesn’t have to be money related. It can be as simple as helping a woman hawking drinks lift the basin onto her head or standing so someone else sits or calling passengers for a bus or taking the fares and sorting out change if the bus has no conductor.
But you have the power. So much of it. And you might not see what your sacrifices will bring for you but I once read this prayer:

” Lord, may we never lack people to stand in our defense. May our good gifts and our sacrifices continually speak for us in the evil day”

Somebody say Amen!
*

By the way, as soon as I’m done with Ebube’s story, I’m going on strike.

*

http://www.shadesofbrownnigeria.blogspot.com.ng/2016/02/dear-african-womanyou-are-not-good.html?m=1

THE LITTLE THINGS

One of my all time, go to favorite romantic songs is The Little Things by Colbie Caillat. It’s so mellow and, her voice? It brings out such mushiness and all those quiet lovely feelings. I have danced with myself to this song. I have hugged myself very tightly to this song. So I want to dedicate this song to my one true love. My truest love.

GOD.

Because God does the littlest and most profound things for me. He knows my top favorite love languages – Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation. And he affirms me on the daily. He builds me up. He is my happy.
He says to me, when I get on the bus, “Don’t sit there sweetheart, the conductor will join you on that seat so instead of 4, you’ll be 5, the passenger to the left will spread his legs wide and you won’t be able to move it. Sit on the far side of the left, by that window. You know how much you love fresh air”
He says to me, when I’m contemplating buying roadside shawarma and I’m looking at the meat, He says, “Please don’t get that. It looks like 2 straight days of purging to Me”
He says to me on Tuesday afternoon, when there is nothing for me to do at the office. He said, “Ask your boss for tomorrow off. You haven’t done anything today, your colleague is handling the matter tomorrow. If you come, you’ll spend time in the office not doing anything and when you finally go home you’ll be irritated and upset and you’ll have to wash your beautiful shirt that no one was able to admire”
So, I asked my boss for the day off. He agreed and what do you know, my friend tells me that we have CDS two days early on the Wednesday I asked to take off (See my GOD?)
He tells me, when the feeling of depression at the state of Nigeria come, when I hear one Nigerian woman start talking bad about another, he says, read that post. It makes you happy. It makes you hopeful.
He tells me, when the feelings of worthlessness come, he says, do you know how many people love you? How many people like you? Who will be there to open the gate for your mommy at 1AM? Who will decide to make pancake when your daddy has a bad day? Who will give the dog a massage and keep trying to get him to roll over? I know you’re feeling bad. But read this and the introduction to this. Remember the time you and Uche turned the camera around to take a selfie and Nedoux was asking what you were doing? (Hallmark funny! Lawl), remember that time you and Rita had a 30 minute argument, complete with voice notes about the correct way to say LOL? See how much you’re loved, liked, respected. Your work here is not yet done.
He reminds me, when Nonso is being irritating, “As much as possible, live in peace with him. Read this, calm yourself. Go to your room, listen to music. Ignore him.
He reminded me, when I was sewing,” Go and watch the finale of that Telemundo show. You’ll never see it again and you know you can’t understand more than basic Spanish”
He says, when I forget to eat, “Go and eat now, do you want to have ulcer again?” (I prayed the last one away. Yay! πŸ™Œ)
He answers me when I call on Him. He is kind. He is firm. He loves me.
The worst times I’ve ever had were preceded by the feelings that God had left me. That no matter how hard I searched for him, I wouldn’t find him.
We talk everyday, usually more than once. It’s very important for me to keep that connection alive.
And more than that, to do the Little things He loves too.

[V1:]
The little things, you do to me are
Taking me over, I wanna show ya
Everything inside of me
Like a nervous heart that, is crazy beating
My feet are stuck here, against the pavement
I wanna break free, I wanna make it
Closer to your eyes, get your attention
Before you pass me by

[Chorus:]
(back up, back up) take another chance,
Don’t let me (mess up, mess up) I don’t wanna lose you
(wake up, wake up) this ain’t just a thing that you
(give up, give up) don’t you say that I’d be
Better off better off, sleeping by myself and wondering
If I’m better off better off, with out you God

[V2:]
And every time, you notice me by
Holding me closely, and saying sweet things
I don’t believe, that it could be
You speaking your mind and, saying the real thing
My feet have broke free, and I am leaving
I’m not gonna stand here, feeling lonely but
I don’t regret it, and I won’t think this
Was just a waste of time

[Chorus]

Don’t just leave, me, hanging onΒ [repeat]

[Verse 1]

Don’t just leave me hanging on

[Chorus]

(back up, back up) take another chance,
Don’t let me (mess up, mess up) I don’t wanna lose you
(wake up, wake up) this ain’t just a thing that you
(give up, give up) don’t you say that I’d be
Better off, better off sitting by myself & wondering (don’t just leave me hanging on)
If I’m better off, better off without you God (don’t just leave me hanging on)

Don’t just leave me hanging onΒ [repeat ’til end]
*

Culled from azlyrics.com
Edited by Obianuju J. Ayalogu.

Whatever else you know, know that God will never leave you or forsake you. If you can’t find him, start searching, retrace your steps and when you find him, hold him and tell him, “Daddy, I’m sorry I let you go, please hold my hand and never let me go” (I very strongly believe that this prayer was what stopped me from walking in front of that truck on August 15th, 2014. Because if God is holding your hands, how can you walk in front of a truck?)
Happy Easter everybody!

The February Angels and other super short stories

Sooo it’s been a while. How is everyone doing?

I recently wrote two guest posts – here and here. If you can, please check them out. The blog owners would appreciate insightful comments, as would I.

Back to the subject of the instant post- February is a special month. All the more special in my family (My mom’s birthday falls on this month – February 10th. I would really appreciate if no one asked me where the cake(s) is/are. That question is a serious pet peeve of mine). February, from record, is also the month I feel the strongest urges to cut my hair.

image
I wanted to live with it for a week before I showed y'all.

As opposed to before:

image

About 2 weeks back I was in bed, I’d just loosened and washed and moisturized the hair when a sudden longing for short hair almost doubled me over.
I’ve always had long hair. Even when I cut it in 2014, it grew back super fast. For example-
image

I know it seems strange, that any girl wants short hair but I’m not just any girl. And while other people look for hair that falls to their hips, I look for hair that can barely stand (I sounded like a bully, shebi?).

Anyway, last time I went to a salon and told the woman to snip off about 21 inches from my hair which I later took home, not because I was afraid or anything but because I wanted to touch it and realize it was my hair (I’ll explain this a lot more, a lot later).

This time, I took the family clippers, located a barber and told him to shave the hair. I didn’t bother to take it home. Yes, I completely realize that some people are terrified of their hair being used for sacrificial purposes but if I believe that there is no enchantment against Obianuju and no divination against her or her family (Numbers 23:23), would it not be a big blow to my professed faith if I indulge in that kind of silly thinking? After I got the hair shaved, I bought akara and buns from a roadside vendor and went to my house to eat it there.

I had to have a shower because there was hair all over my clothes, my neck and my face. And I washed the hair with my friend’s black soap scrub and a conditioner the next day.

If I was a different kind of woman, I would create a Mohawk using gel. But I’m not. And I’m excited to just leave the hair be for as long as possible. So far, reactions to the hair have been mixed, my mom thinks it looks great, my dad reserved comment, my colleague almost cried.

It helps that I’m madly in love with my hair as it is. What do you think?

image

MOULTING/ECDYSIS (12TH OF FEBRUARY)

The picture immediately above is from earlier today. I woke up in a foul mood. I usually talk myself out of bad mood days but I hadn’t been in a bad mood for a while and I decided to leave myself alone.
So many things went wrong and with each terrible thing I felt a little better. I know it is supposed to be the other way around, I couldn’t explain it to you if I tried.
Today, I registered my SIM again. I first registered it when it wasn’t mandatory, I think about 4 years ago. Recently, they contacted me that I needed to update my registration (register again). I went to register. The computer went off when I was through and I had to start all over again. When I was leaving, I gave the person who was registering me a huge grin.
I had to walk a long distance to get a bus. I got to the office really late, I fell victim to a pickpocket, I went to a police station and was treated in turns to rudeness, sycophancy, a request to “know me better” by an extremely disrespectful policeman and finally a request for a bribe, I went to 3 different banks, one answered me with moderate speed, the other at high speed and the last at snail pace. On my way back home, I got the coveted spot in the bus after the previous occupant left, next to the driver but with a stool separating us and a window and door on my side. The stool was empty. One person had to cross the road to enter the bus. Instead of moving to the unoccupied seat or politely asking me to, she refused to leave my seat and had the effrontery to tell me I was disturbing her. I retorted. With time though, I eventually moved to the stool (sometimes I detest my conscience). On the second leg of the journey, the scarcity of buses going in my direction caused greedy drivers and conductors to double the fare. When I found one that was normal fare, I entered only for the conductor to claim it was the doubled fare. Eventually though, it was reduced to the original.
In other words, it’s been a good day all in all.

image

This is NOT my childhood

On the post I submitted to Ada(ezenwa), after the introduction where she thoroughly dissected my matter and made me laugh seriously, after the first paragraph, she made a note that my childhood soundtrack should be Michael Jackson’s “Childhood”.
Biko, mba! (Please, no!)

You see, this is the danger of a single story, a single perspective and now, I will paint another picture for you.

My parents love me. They loved me. I’m a daddy’s girl through and through. We were, still are a very tight knit unit. Decisions affecting the whole family are taken by the whole family. We jointly took the decision to stop hiring domestic help. We jointly took the decision to fire the driver.

I remember a lot of restaurants and fast food places. I remember that although I hated and still do hate boiled eggs, I’d ask for scotch eggs so I could eat the “scotch” part of it. Someone else unfailingly ate the egg part. I remember a lot of people in our house. Quite often, they numbered more than we did. Once we had 15 people living in the house. It was beautiful chaos.

I remember never being afraid to talk. The girl I am now is the girl I remember. The February angels brought my voice back and my laughter from where it went to hide.

I remember my big sister (my cousin) and my little sister (another cousin). I remember the time my uncle gave me a huge pack of Toblerones. He gave my brother some as well but this one he gave specifically to me. I went to hide it in a place I knew no one would find it. The next day I came back from school and they had halved my stash. Halved it!

image

I remember Super story and the first time my baby brother took his first steps. I didn’t finish that episode. I remember Passions and making the decision to stop watching it. Diego and Paloma (When you were mine/ Cuando Seas Mia – very addictive something).

image

I remember wrestling matches, between me, my brothers, their friends. I remember tears, and laying on a mat looking at the sunset.

I remember love, and laughter. Family and friends.
I remember home.
I remember me.

This is my childhood. The one I accept.

Glossary
“Conductor”- a person who sorts out change for the trip, opens the door, insults people who don’t get down fast enough. Can be extremely nice. Can be extremely mean.

Article Recommendation:
http://eclectictope.com/2015/10/09/are-you-pregnant-for-your-pastor/. It’s all shades of amazing.