I was a witch.
I could feel my fangs growing. My fangs were ready to dig into anyone who dared to cross me.
My broomstick stood proudly by my side.
Wait.
Was I the obodo oyinbo witch with a broom and wand or was I just an 'Iya oshoronga' of Nigerian origins?
Even us witches have identity crises. *sigh*
Alright, so I was a Nigerian witch. Bad teeth, bad hair, horrible smelly clothes and of course lots of one thousand naira bills in my purse.
There I stood at the bus stop. I could have just flown to church that sunday oh.
"Thank you global warming..." I muttered to myself.
It had began to shower, the feather weight droplets of aqua quickly morphed into heavy painful beads of rain.
Not again.
Stuck at a bus stop, no means of transportation in sight.
The doom of racoon eyes was impending as I tryed to remember if the mascara I had used was water proof or not.
Never had I been so happy to see a 'keke napep', I almost did the harlem shake.
The princess got into her chariot lol, sorry the witch got into her chariot rather.
"Wetin?!! I nor get change oh..."
This keke napep driver was not going to start this with me this early morning.
No he was not.
He made me look like a witch out to suck his blood.
I was paying for a fifty naira trip with a one thousand naira note. To him, I must have been a witch.
"I nor get change!!"
I had told him before getting into his vehicle that all I had was one thousands.
I was just recovering from the nuclear bomb that was my atm account balance. I almost went into a coma when I saw it ( story for another day lol)
"Thats how you women do, expect me to be looking for change...!!!"
He was yelling now.
Rummaging through my bag I hoped to find change to make this troll shut up.
I did not find any.
Shoving the money in my hand he kept yelling.
If I turned him into a sad looking tuber of yam or a fake rolex watch you would call me wicked abi??
I paused for a moment, took a long hard look at him.
"Oga, you for cool down. Today na sunday. You for cool temper..." I said smiling as I motioned the 'cool temper' gesture placing my palm on my chest.
He was shocked.
He looked embarrassed.
His face fell.
I walked off. (like a boss)
I was not going to let him get to me.
Nope.
Was it easy?
Well it was easier than getting into a shouting match with a keke napep driver by the roadside.
*honk! Honk!! Honk!!!!*
A keke napep drove up to my side.
It was the same man.
Oh Lord, what now??
"Sister, abeg nor vex. Please dont be angry. Nor be my fault say I just dey shira for you. Abeg nor vex. Happy sunday ehn..."
I laughed.
"Happy sunday too"
Kill them with love.
It is often very difficult to do this. There are so many things that get in the way.
Things such as our pride as well as the enormous amount of crap people around us get up to. And of course there is the little witch or wizard that lurks around in the corners of our minds wanting to draw blood and turn people into yams, cockroaches, shower caps and pots of jollof rice.
But would you rather be dragged into their horse crap and be humiliated by your own lack of self control?
Kill them with love when they make you angry, when they make you want to rip their heads off.
Kill them with love because its really all you have that you can ever genuinely give.
Kill them with love not for what you can gain from them but for who love makes you.
Kill them with love because as cliché as it sounds, love is that which can melt any heart. It is that which can transform.
Kill them.
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Tuesday, 26 February 2013
Monday, 21 January 2013
Photocopies
There I was in the dark.
My eyes widened in unfamiliar darkness. I heard children running around somewhere upstairs.
I ran.
I ran up the stairs as fast as my legs could carry me.
I ran into a strangers house.
I had never been inside one before. By the time I had realised where I was to take the scenery in I had began feeling faint.
I was in a 'face-me-I-face-you'. It looked like it.
Walls blackened from years of stories untold.
"Have you peepo close the door?" She shouted
I didn't respond. I couldn't. I was a mute.
Through the spaces in the walls of the brick stair case, we stared into the street.
A woman in the house went downstairs to lock the door. She struggled with the simple hook at the back of the door
"As if that would provide any form security..." I muttered under my breath.
She came up the stairs and looked at us as she ascended.
"Ejo e ma binu ma..." I said to her in the most genuine yoruba accent I could come up with.
"Ah binu ke? Dont worry, what are we here for if not to help each other."
I did not know her from Adam.
This stranger had offered a lady and I her stairwell as a hideaway.
Was I still in Lagos?
I looked on through the spaces in the brick wall. I saw the streets, they were empty.
The police, civillians, touts, all gone.
How did I get into a face-me-I-face-you in the dark with a total stranger??
The man was suddenly running in my direction when he fell. I thought nothing of it.
I thought nothing of it until he twitched on the ground and a violet-red substance oozed from his body unto the brown earth.
Somebody shot him.
The policeman shot him.
The police was everywhere. Here, there, everywhere. They weilded there guns. Guns with necks as long as those of girraffees.
You see, I knew those were guns. I never realised they actually made use of them. I knew those weapons were not for fancy. But I just never thought I would see its use first hand.
Quiet had returned to the street. The woman who ran into the strangers house with me began crying.
"My pikin oh... she dey road. she just dey come back from school. I'm calling her now her phone number is not available. Chaaaii"
I wondered if her daughter was the second person I heard had been shot. I could just imagine her laying on the ground, school uniform stained. Or was she somewhere hiding just as we were?
I was back to being mute. I could not utter a simple statement to console her.
She asked me where I was headed when the riot broke out. I was still mute.
She must have thought I was rude.
I just could not find words, a first in my life.
All I wanted were photocopies.
As I beheld the man twitching on the ground, there was no thought in my head. None whatsoever.
Now that I think about it no one told me to make my next move.
I ran.
I ran so fast I could feel my heart thumping against my rib cage. There I was with all the important documents I had acquired in my little life. And I was just running.
I didnt care about where I was running towards, whether it was towards greater danger, I had no idea.
It was in the home of that stranger that I realised I still had my documents intact.
Minutes later I remebered why I had left my house. The photocopies.
I sited a small storey building during my survey of the street.
'MAKE YOUR COPIES HIA'
Do I bolt out into the adjacent house?
Guess what?
I thanked one of tenants of the face-me-I-face-you. Unbolted the door, shut my eyes and ran as the crow flies across the street.
Stupid.
But I had to get those copies made.
It was a small room. If I could imagine a prison cell, that was exactly what this looked like. But this cell had about 6 old school computers crammed in it with a copy machine.
A copy machine!
It was hot. It was hot and it smelled.
The room was filled with relatively young men all typing away. Rather copying and pasting the same messages to God knows who on the other side of the globe.
Waiting to get my copies done, I realised if the EFCC walked in there I was dead meat.
I was in the midst of 'yahoo boys'
I was right there with a folder in my hands, wearing pyjama bottoms and an old t-shirt. I fit right in. LOL
No cell phone to even call home with. LoL
Naaaahhhh. Two horrible things couldn't happen to me in one day.
I was finally done. Still stunned, I paid and did not even wait for my change.
I still do not know how I got home.
Back in my bed, pyjamas still on. I mulled over all that had happened in the 'safety' of my house.
I wondered who the man was. I remember seeing his eyes roll back as he bled to the ground. What did he see as he passed away?
Did his life flash before his eyes? Did he live to see me running for the hills?
Would I have opened my doors to total strangers? Strangers who were runing at top speed?
I doubt it.
All I remeber was that my concern was getting home with my photocopies made. Was that sheer madness or determination?
I mean I had one of the greatest deals of my life the next day to prepare for.
Cut me some slack.
Hold on.
Aren't the Nigerian police supposed to protect me? Why were they firing into the crowd towards me?
Why did I perceive this air of normalcy despite the chaotic circumstances? Could it be that people had become used to this kind of irrationality from the Nigerian police?
All I wanted were some damn photocopies.
Today, I realised that admist chaos there is still so much to be grateful for.
There are kind people out there. They live in the most unlikely places that we may look down on.
One never knows who HE would send to be our guardian angel.
On my way out tomorrow I would probably pass by that face-me-I-face-you. I doubt I would even remember what street it was in talk less of the particular house.
But tonight I will pray for that woman and her family. I will pray for the man who passed away. I will aslo pray for the lady who was looking for her child. The yahoo boys, the nigerian police, I will pray for them. For this country I will also pray.
I will pray that my children would not have to see what I saw today.
I will pray that they will not inherit the knowledge that the government and politicians of their fatherland don't give a shit about their lives.
That stray bullet could have hit me.
But it did not.
So I will do the only thing I know how.
Pray.
'DWN
My eyes widened in unfamiliar darkness. I heard children running around somewhere upstairs.
I ran.
I ran up the stairs as fast as my legs could carry me.
I ran into a strangers house.
I had never been inside one before. By the time I had realised where I was to take the scenery in I had began feeling faint.
I was in a 'face-me-I-face-you'. It looked like it.
Walls blackened from years of stories untold.
"Have you peepo close the door?" She shouted
I didn't respond. I couldn't. I was a mute.
Through the spaces in the walls of the brick stair case, we stared into the street.
A woman in the house went downstairs to lock the door. She struggled with the simple hook at the back of the door
"As if that would provide any form security..." I muttered under my breath.
She came up the stairs and looked at us as she ascended.
"Ejo e ma binu ma..." I said to her in the most genuine yoruba accent I could come up with.
"Ah binu ke? Dont worry, what are we here for if not to help each other."
I did not know her from Adam.
This stranger had offered a lady and I her stairwell as a hideaway.
Was I still in Lagos?
I looked on through the spaces in the brick wall. I saw the streets, they were empty.
The police, civillians, touts, all gone.
How did I get into a face-me-I-face-you in the dark with a total stranger??
The man was suddenly running in my direction when he fell. I thought nothing of it.
I thought nothing of it until he twitched on the ground and a violet-red substance oozed from his body unto the brown earth.
Somebody shot him.
The policeman shot him.
The police was everywhere. Here, there, everywhere. They weilded there guns. Guns with necks as long as those of girraffees.
You see, I knew those were guns. I never realised they actually made use of them. I knew those weapons were not for fancy. But I just never thought I would see its use first hand.
Quiet had returned to the street. The woman who ran into the strangers house with me began crying.
"My pikin oh... she dey road. she just dey come back from school. I'm calling her now her phone number is not available. Chaaaii"
I wondered if her daughter was the second person I heard had been shot. I could just imagine her laying on the ground, school uniform stained. Or was she somewhere hiding just as we were?
I was back to being mute. I could not utter a simple statement to console her.
She asked me where I was headed when the riot broke out. I was still mute.
She must have thought I was rude.
I just could not find words, a first in my life.
All I wanted were photocopies.
As I beheld the man twitching on the ground, there was no thought in my head. None whatsoever.
Now that I think about it no one told me to make my next move.
I ran.
I ran so fast I could feel my heart thumping against my rib cage. There I was with all the important documents I had acquired in my little life. And I was just running.
I didnt care about where I was running towards, whether it was towards greater danger, I had no idea.
It was in the home of that stranger that I realised I still had my documents intact.
Minutes later I remebered why I had left my house. The photocopies.
I sited a small storey building during my survey of the street.
'MAKE YOUR COPIES HIA'
Do I bolt out into the adjacent house?
Guess what?
I thanked one of tenants of the face-me-I-face-you. Unbolted the door, shut my eyes and ran as the crow flies across the street.
Stupid.
But I had to get those copies made.
It was a small room. If I could imagine a prison cell, that was exactly what this looked like. But this cell had about 6 old school computers crammed in it with a copy machine.
A copy machine!
It was hot. It was hot and it smelled.
The room was filled with relatively young men all typing away. Rather copying and pasting the same messages to God knows who on the other side of the globe.
Waiting to get my copies done, I realised if the EFCC walked in there I was dead meat.
I was in the midst of 'yahoo boys'
I was right there with a folder in my hands, wearing pyjama bottoms and an old t-shirt. I fit right in. LOL
No cell phone to even call home with. LoL
Naaaahhhh. Two horrible things couldn't happen to me in one day.
I was finally done. Still stunned, I paid and did not even wait for my change.
I still do not know how I got home.
Back in my bed, pyjamas still on. I mulled over all that had happened in the 'safety' of my house.
I wondered who the man was. I remember seeing his eyes roll back as he bled to the ground. What did he see as he passed away?
Did his life flash before his eyes? Did he live to see me running for the hills?
Would I have opened my doors to total strangers? Strangers who were runing at top speed?
I doubt it.
All I remeber was that my concern was getting home with my photocopies made. Was that sheer madness or determination?
I mean I had one of the greatest deals of my life the next day to prepare for.
Cut me some slack.
Hold on.
Aren't the Nigerian police supposed to protect me? Why were they firing into the crowd towards me?
Why did I perceive this air of normalcy despite the chaotic circumstances? Could it be that people had become used to this kind of irrationality from the Nigerian police?
All I wanted were some damn photocopies.
Today, I realised that admist chaos there is still so much to be grateful for.
There are kind people out there. They live in the most unlikely places that we may look down on.
One never knows who HE would send to be our guardian angel.
On my way out tomorrow I would probably pass by that face-me-I-face-you. I doubt I would even remember what street it was in talk less of the particular house.
But tonight I will pray for that woman and her family. I will pray for the man who passed away. I will aslo pray for the lady who was looking for her child. The yahoo boys, the nigerian police, I will pray for them. For this country I will also pray.
I will pray that my children would not have to see what I saw today.
I will pray that they will not inherit the knowledge that the government and politicians of their fatherland don't give a shit about their lives.
That stray bullet could have hit me.
But it did not.
So I will do the only thing I know how.
Pray.
'DWN
Sunday, 20 January 2013
Sun ré
Don't cry
don't cry
don't cry....
Error...! lol
Face full of tears and snot. I remember you today as I have everyday.
I wish I could talk to you again. Just one last time.
I miss you so much.
Mama your bébé is grown up. Your 'Dewunmi is all 'growed' up.
I remember holding your frail hands and your wise cracks about my untamed eyebrows. In the face of death you were still a comedian. I was your number one fan until the end.
It was hard. The first birthday, first christmas, new year, graduation. All without you. But here I am mama, years down the line.
I still miss you so much.
They said it would get better. But truthfully it feels just like yesterday. In fact it feels like its happening all over again today.
I honestly wish you were still here. But God loves you way more than I can ever love you.
I'm standing here at your favourite spot watching the rain drops making little ringlets in the puddles.
Watching those 'white-rose-like-plant-thingies' flourish.
I remember how you used to pluck one flower a day for my hair and tell me I was the most beautiful creature ever.
I hear you speak to me. I hear your smooth silky laughter.
I can feel you hold me. You tell me what you've always told me: "You'll be fine bébé..."
You were right.
You said you won't be able to speak to me as much from then on. You said you would always be with me.
I miss you so bad.
I remeber after you left, I would see someone who I thought was you in a crowd. I would chase the stranger down the street hoping it was you.
Hoping it was all a bad joke.
Hoping you were coming home later that night.
You never came.
I went from having strength to being frail and then I went to the Father. The One who comforts the sorrowed.
He told me you were fine. That He needed you to be with him.
He said to trust him.
I did.
I could swear I saw you yesterday. You sat right there on the wing of that 787.
Dressed in your african print boubou. A beauty to behold as the sun rose and cast its bright light upon your smiling face.
I heard you: "Adewunmi oyinlola oyemipo, ka ka ka ti n ya aja le nu... Sho o wa pa?"
The mischief, rife in your voice. LOL
If I had one more chance to see you I would just hold you.
I would just hold you to feel your touch once again.
There would be no need to speak. There would be no need for tears.
I would just hold you.
Through it all I have taken all of it to the Father. My hopes, dreams, tears...
He keeps telling me trust him and to hold on.
The one truest and greatest gift you left with me was the the knowledge of He that changeth not.
So mama here I am everyday sharing the lovely memories we had with anyone and everyone who cares to listen loool
I still don't know about that massive wedding you wanted, still on the hunt for 'le one'. -___- It's a jungle out there mama! Lol
But I'm here, I am now and I will never forget your words:
"Bébé don't ever settle for less than you are worth. You can do anything so long as your mind can conceive it. You can be everything and anything..."
I might have settled for less at several points in my young life. But that's why today comes once every year to remind me of all the values you taught me.
Everyday in my walk with the 'I AM', I pray that he fulfils all the dreams you had for me. And that in the hollow of his hands I attain all that I hope to.
I also pray that I grow to love and understand Him as fully as you've always wished me to.
Iya mi, sun re ó
'DWN
don't cry
don't cry....
Error...! lol
Face full of tears and snot. I remember you today as I have everyday.
I wish I could talk to you again. Just one last time.
I miss you so much.
Mama your bébé is grown up. Your 'Dewunmi is all 'growed' up.
I remember holding your frail hands and your wise cracks about my untamed eyebrows. In the face of death you were still a comedian. I was your number one fan until the end.
It was hard. The first birthday, first christmas, new year, graduation. All without you. But here I am mama, years down the line.
I still miss you so much.
They said it would get better. But truthfully it feels just like yesterday. In fact it feels like its happening all over again today.
I honestly wish you were still here. But God loves you way more than I can ever love you.
I'm standing here at your favourite spot watching the rain drops making little ringlets in the puddles.
Watching those 'white-rose-like-plant-thingies' flourish.
I remember how you used to pluck one flower a day for my hair and tell me I was the most beautiful creature ever.
I hear you speak to me. I hear your smooth silky laughter.
I can feel you hold me. You tell me what you've always told me: "You'll be fine bébé..."
You were right.
You said you won't be able to speak to me as much from then on. You said you would always be with me.
I miss you so bad.
I remeber after you left, I would see someone who I thought was you in a crowd. I would chase the stranger down the street hoping it was you.
Hoping it was all a bad joke.
Hoping you were coming home later that night.
You never came.
I went from having strength to being frail and then I went to the Father. The One who comforts the sorrowed.
He told me you were fine. That He needed you to be with him.
He said to trust him.
I did.
I could swear I saw you yesterday. You sat right there on the wing of that 787.
Dressed in your african print boubou. A beauty to behold as the sun rose and cast its bright light upon your smiling face.
I heard you: "Adewunmi oyinlola oyemipo, ka ka ka ti n ya aja le nu... Sho o wa pa?"
The mischief, rife in your voice. LOL
If I had one more chance to see you I would just hold you.
I would just hold you to feel your touch once again.
There would be no need to speak. There would be no need for tears.
I would just hold you.
Through it all I have taken all of it to the Father. My hopes, dreams, tears...
He keeps telling me trust him and to hold on.
The one truest and greatest gift you left with me was the the knowledge of He that changeth not.
So mama here I am everyday sharing the lovely memories we had with anyone and everyone who cares to listen loool
I still don't know about that massive wedding you wanted, still on the hunt for 'le one'. -___- It's a jungle out there mama! Lol
But I'm here, I am now and I will never forget your words:
"Bébé don't ever settle for less than you are worth. You can do anything so long as your mind can conceive it. You can be everything and anything..."
I might have settled for less at several points in my young life. But that's why today comes once every year to remind me of all the values you taught me.
Everyday in my walk with the 'I AM', I pray that he fulfils all the dreams you had for me. And that in the hollow of his hands I attain all that I hope to.
I also pray that I grow to love and understand Him as fully as you've always wished me to.
Iya mi, sun re ó
'DWN
Friday, 7 December 2012
What a Covenant...
My thoughts are running amok. The news is filled with so much. So much is happening at the same time.
*I believe in Jehovah Jireh. I Believe theres heaven, I believe in war, I believe you when you say you've lost all faith. But you have to believe in some thing. Something.....*
200 students were expelled from a university a couple of days ago. Not from just any higher institution. From an institition pupurted to be 'Gods university'.
For crimes ranging from not wearing ties, loitering to smoking pot. Whether these numbers and crimes are accurately reported we will never know. But my question is: has God also expelled these students?
But one may argue that these students and their guardians fully understood and agreed to the terms and conditions. But should the house of God operate on terms and conditions?
Let me put it to you this way:
From my understanding, the school is a representation of a system which aims to inculcate the proper Christian beliefs in young people, generally in persons under its tutelage. Yes? Yes!
So my guess is that students who are enrolled in any course of study are expected to be taught these positive christian values.
But like every human being we have short comings. No matter the amount of positivity we are exposed to, we have shortcomings. How then is it feasible to banish students who come short of these expectations?
My interpretation of such expulsion is: "get out oh sinner who can never be of any good to anyone or the kingdom of God"
Rather, I believe such erring students belong in these institutions of God. If students are being expelled, its not just proof of their human shortcomings but clear proof of the failure of the higher institution concerned.
I believe expulsion is contradicting the message of love and forgiveness that The Christ went through such great lengths to pass on.
I am of the opinion that our churches should offer a remand system to these students. Infact not just these students but everyone in the society, from those who commit murder to thieves, rapists etc.
I have visited and spent time at remand homes in lagos and I have never seen any church come over to speak to the young people who are left at the mercy of the government.
*I don't believe that we are wicked and I know we sin. But we all try...*
I know for a fact that Jesus Christ died in order to redeem us sinners. Who are we to banish trangressors? Who are we to pass a complete and final judgement on the lives of people?
I wonder if after expulsion the schools keep in touch with these students?? All I can do is wonder...
If the church says it can not can effect change in the lives of young people, who then can? The government?
I believe the efforts by the household of God to change young people's lives for the better should be relentless. Our Lord told a wonderful parable about the shepherd who went out of his way to find that one lost sheep.
Each and everyone of us is that lost sheep. If I loose my way, will no one come for me?
'DWN
*I believe in Jehovah Jireh. I Believe theres heaven, I believe in war, I believe you when you say you've lost all faith. But you have to believe in some thing. Something.....*
200 students were expelled from a university a couple of days ago. Not from just any higher institution. From an institition pupurted to be 'Gods university'.
For crimes ranging from not wearing ties, loitering to smoking pot. Whether these numbers and crimes are accurately reported we will never know. But my question is: has God also expelled these students?
But one may argue that these students and their guardians fully understood and agreed to the terms and conditions. But should the house of God operate on terms and conditions?
Let me put it to you this way:
From my understanding, the school is a representation of a system which aims to inculcate the proper Christian beliefs in young people, generally in persons under its tutelage. Yes? Yes!
So my guess is that students who are enrolled in any course of study are expected to be taught these positive christian values.
But like every human being we have short comings. No matter the amount of positivity we are exposed to, we have shortcomings. How then is it feasible to banish students who come short of these expectations?
My interpretation of such expulsion is: "get out oh sinner who can never be of any good to anyone or the kingdom of God"
Rather, I believe such erring students belong in these institutions of God. If students are being expelled, its not just proof of their human shortcomings but clear proof of the failure of the higher institution concerned.
I believe expulsion is contradicting the message of love and forgiveness that The Christ went through such great lengths to pass on.
I am of the opinion that our churches should offer a remand system to these students. Infact not just these students but everyone in the society, from those who commit murder to thieves, rapists etc.
I have visited and spent time at remand homes in lagos and I have never seen any church come over to speak to the young people who are left at the mercy of the government.
*I don't believe that we are wicked and I know we sin. But we all try...*
I know for a fact that Jesus Christ died in order to redeem us sinners. Who are we to banish trangressors? Who are we to pass a complete and final judgement on the lives of people?
I wonder if after expulsion the schools keep in touch with these students?? All I can do is wonder...
If the church says it can not can effect change in the lives of young people, who then can? The government?
I believe the efforts by the household of God to change young people's lives for the better should be relentless. Our Lord told a wonderful parable about the shepherd who went out of his way to find that one lost sheep.
Each and everyone of us is that lost sheep. If I loose my way, will no one come for me?
'DWN
Monday, 3 December 2012
DUMPED!
Dumped by the ex boyfriends named employment, money etc etc You get the drift...
So i woke up this morning with itchy fingers. No, i mean literally itchy. Red bruised palms and I was scratching them like they owed me money. "It means your money is coming..." Said my aunt. "Shey ori woman yi pe ni??" I said(of course 'for my mind'), as I squeezed on a bottle of hydrocortisone Now why so violent you may ask. Simple. F**k the world. Yea I said it.
Ok Im sorry.
You see the thing is I've suffered quite a number of disappointments back to back. Now I'm trying to figure out how to get back the 2minutes of my life where I bashed my head against a brick wall of all my fears. My fears that had somehow morphed into tinny goblins... Err Ojuju calabars rather, taunting and dancing around me, letting me know that 'wahala dey'. And no please I do not need to go to prayer city. This is all figurative... Or is it?
This morning for me is about God telling me "Dewunmi write, write! " During yesterdays third mainland debacle, as I stood stranded in the middle of the gazzillion foot long bridge, admist thoughts about the stories I heard about 'awon boys' who miraculously get on the bridge, rob and maim you, I pondered on what my place in life was. There I was with my brother and we were trying to flag down total strangers who were driving at cut-throat-scatter-bodi speed. Hahaa! Where did I think I was?
I knew where I was. I was in a near hopeless situation and I stopped to look at the view, to appreciate the scenery, you know maybe I might get a good photo for instagram lol. Looking far ahead I noticed the shanties at the far ends of the bridge. And no it wasnt a humbling moment for me. I wasnt thinking about how some people had more than I did or that some people earned less than a dollar a day or that my degree gives me an edge over them. No.
For once I realised that that manner of thinking brings mediocrity and a satisfaction in ones miniscule victories. Rather I thought to myself that in as much as the little victories are important, the big victories are equally important. Running away from big challenges makes you a big loser. "Challenge yourself Dewunmi" I muttered. I saw that my people who live in horrible conditions of abject poverty here in our country, aren't poor, rather Im the one who is poor. I am poor because I know I do not have the strength and mental capability to be in their shoes. They are the people who have true strength, they are a large part of our population and they are the true Nigerians. So I drew inspiration from that view, that magnificent view. The view of our reality. My real, my true.
Then it hit me. It hit me as a yellow bus sped by, causing the salty ocean breeze to smack me accross the face. It hit me. Mesmerised by the strong ocean current, I realised that my place is where I make it. Its here. My city, my people, my life!
Still stuck on the bridge, seconds after my great earth moving epiphany and Aha! moment, a miracle occurrred (a story for another day).
And so this is how I've tucked my white flag back into my backpack and I'm hopeful this day not for my exes to return. No. Hopeful for new relationships with laughter, confidence, adventure, risk taking, depth and endless possibilities. So as I erect my flag of 'Dewunmi Nation', with my superbite and lacasera in hand, I'm screaming "lebete! Lebete! Lebete!!!!" at the top of my lungs :)
'Dewunmi Nation.
So i woke up this morning with itchy fingers. No, i mean literally itchy. Red bruised palms and I was scratching them like they owed me money. "It means your money is coming..." Said my aunt. "Shey ori woman yi pe ni??" I said(of course 'for my mind'), as I squeezed on a bottle of hydrocortisone Now why so violent you may ask. Simple. F**k the world. Yea I said it.
Ok Im sorry.
You see the thing is I've suffered quite a number of disappointments back to back. Now I'm trying to figure out how to get back the 2minutes of my life where I bashed my head against a brick wall of all my fears. My fears that had somehow morphed into tinny goblins... Err Ojuju calabars rather, taunting and dancing around me, letting me know that 'wahala dey'. And no please I do not need to go to prayer city. This is all figurative... Or is it?
This morning for me is about God telling me "Dewunmi write, write! " During yesterdays third mainland debacle, as I stood stranded in the middle of the gazzillion foot long bridge, admist thoughts about the stories I heard about 'awon boys' who miraculously get on the bridge, rob and maim you, I pondered on what my place in life was. There I was with my brother and we were trying to flag down total strangers who were driving at cut-throat-scatter-bodi speed. Hahaa! Where did I think I was?
I knew where I was. I was in a near hopeless situation and I stopped to look at the view, to appreciate the scenery, you know maybe I might get a good photo for instagram lol. Looking far ahead I noticed the shanties at the far ends of the bridge. And no it wasnt a humbling moment for me. I wasnt thinking about how some people had more than I did or that some people earned less than a dollar a day or that my degree gives me an edge over them. No.
For once I realised that that manner of thinking brings mediocrity and a satisfaction in ones miniscule victories. Rather I thought to myself that in as much as the little victories are important, the big victories are equally important. Running away from big challenges makes you a big loser. "Challenge yourself Dewunmi" I muttered. I saw that my people who live in horrible conditions of abject poverty here in our country, aren't poor, rather Im the one who is poor. I am poor because I know I do not have the strength and mental capability to be in their shoes. They are the people who have true strength, they are a large part of our population and they are the true Nigerians. So I drew inspiration from that view, that magnificent view. The view of our reality. My real, my true.
Then it hit me. It hit me as a yellow bus sped by, causing the salty ocean breeze to smack me accross the face. It hit me. Mesmerised by the strong ocean current, I realised that my place is where I make it. Its here. My city, my people, my life!
Still stuck on the bridge, seconds after my great earth moving epiphany and Aha! moment, a miracle occurrred (a story for another day).
And so this is how I've tucked my white flag back into my backpack and I'm hopeful this day not for my exes to return. No. Hopeful for new relationships with laughter, confidence, adventure, risk taking, depth and endless possibilities. So as I erect my flag of 'Dewunmi Nation', with my superbite and lacasera in hand, I'm screaming "lebete! Lebete! Lebete!!!!" at the top of my lungs :)
'Dewunmi Nation.
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