Confessions of a New Born

 

I’m not a prophet, but every now and then I have a prescient, a message that weighs heavy on my heart.

But first I have a confession.

I grew up in  a christian household.  My father being a minister meant for us church once or more times in a week.  This was fine at first, I enjoyed being in the children’s choir, but with time I grew less infatuated with the routine.

I hated not having the choice of going. To worsen things, I was involuntarily a part of the Youth’s fellowship, Hence, I started to rebel .

One day in high school while our economics teacher was singing a tune,  I hummed along, completely unaware. It was a song from a popular christian group. By the time I realised how inappropriate I was acting, he was already searing through his thick rims at me. I  apologised, wondering how mad he must be. Instead, His grim face brightened up and he says, ” One day you’ll be able to sing out loud and not feel ashamed,”.

 

During my last year of High school, a preacher was praying for the graduating students. He later calls me aside and says; “promise me that you will not forget God in the future,”.   I had no idea what he was talking about as I made no plans to leave the tropical shores of my country at the time.

Leaving Nigeria was an exciting period for me. On one hand, I’d never been so far from home. Secondly, it meant freedom, not just from my parents but ultimately from God. I tried to maintain church going for about four months, then I folded up my Bible and forgot about that life. I was 16 at the time.

 

It was fun not living under any rule of conduct, but eventually loneliness surrounded me.

 

Med school was more bloodcurdling  than I anticipated. As a result, I spent 2 extra years, which I never publicly complained about, considering the number of students that drop out each year. Because of this, I always  prayed during the exams period.

In  2017, I reconnected with an old high school friend. We reminisced on old times, on when we’d present the news every Friday. We also got paired up a few times for Bible hour, I’d say the  prayers, and he’d preach.

I told him, I don’t do that anymore, and he seemed genuinely sad to hear it. That Christmas he sent me an ebook titled, “the prayerful woman”. I was swamped with final exams and thesis work, but I made out time to read the book, and it made me reflect on my life choices.

2018. I rededicated my life to Christ, and relinquished the control I thought I had. I’m akin to a new born in the kingdom. Now I  learn everything again. I would say that first, there was, and still is, a purge of Pride, selfishness and jealousy. I’ve also been getting lessons on God’s love and wisdom.

But today, I have something different in my heart, and it says;

“I will turn your weakness into strength, I will turn your enemies into allies”.

I’m sharing this Good news because of the slight chance that you, or even a nation (Nigeria’s election, America’s midterm is coming up) may need it too.

I’d also recommend you read Psalm 139, if your heart leads you to.

So there it is people. I am not a preacher, neither do I want to be! I am but a new born in a  24 year old woman’s costume searching for a her purpose through Jesus christ.

Happy Halloween. God bless you!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

but sometimes I have prophetic dreams

The Root of Nigeria’s problems

“MENTAL SLAVERY IS R.E.A.L”

In today’s episode of “Wetin this one dey yarn?”, I wanna stress on a topic that really hits home.

You may have heard about Nigeria in your local media. A lot of foreigners associate us with Boko haram, religious wars, poor infrastructures and welfare etc, and a lot of foreigners are not wrong.

Permit me to do a throwback and shed a little light on the history of Nigeria.

In 2015, Nigerians voted an incompetent  authoritarian named Muhammed Buhari, into the presidential office. As a result of that, we’ve suffered great losses as a nation.

But wait!  wasn’t it obvious that he was the wrongest candidate to elect? You may ask.

YES!

Six decades ago, after Nigeria became Independent from the British colony, we were subjected to military rule. Whenever a Military leader was not effective, a Coup d’état would ensue, as a result of that, the nation was always on her toes.

In 1983, Muhammed Buhari organized a successful Coup d’état and became the head of Nigeria, albeit,  his reign was one of the dingiest in Nigerian history. He was relieved of power in a bloodless Coup.

The man had no business getting the power in 2015, yet because Nigerians have a ph.D in outstripping their prior misfortunes, oodles of people supported his campaign.

How foolish are the people who don’t learn from experience.

It’s obvious that I hate our current government, nevertheless I prefer to look at the root of problems and deduce a solution rather than allowing my anger overshadow my sense of reasoning.

 

“WHEN WILL THE VICIOUS CYCLE END?”

 

 

From the moment a Nigerian child is born, they are taught to follow the rules. Don’t ask questions, respect the elders as questioning authority is the seed of rebellion that is not tolerated.  This is directly enforced by our primary care takers like our parents, school teachers, and religious leaders.

We grow up being fearful,  far from respectful as though we are still serving slave masters, colonial leaders, Militants. The average Nigerian child does not know the meaning of liberal.

Democracy is just a word. Even when you are right, you’re wrong!

Some Africans suffer from Mental captivity, the older generation especially.

This eventually shapes the youth’s mind so that when he travels to foreign land, he cannot socialise with  others, and he thinks of himself as a lesser human.

Ever wondered why Nigerian youths become successful after they have spent years in another man’s country?  after they have realised that they should not be repressed for thinking the right way?

Nigerians are some of the most innovative, creative minds in today’s world, but that potential is only discovered in foreign institutions. This is why instead of hearing about technological advancements made in Nigerian, we hear about innovations led by a Nigerian inventors working for, for example, a Canadian company

That’s right, there are no jobs for majority of youths in Nigeria, and that’s the main reason we emigrate.

Buhari recently said that Nigerian youths are the laziest people in the world.

Lol.

Sooner or later, these old greasy scumbags fighting for power will be gone, and where will the youths be? contributing to  the sublimation of another’s country’s economy.

Good job Federal Govt. Good job Buhari. Well done!

I’m sorry for my tone, if you picked up on that, I’ve just really wanted to say this for 4 years. If you made it to the end of my rant, Thank you for coming to my TEDx talk.

 

Image from Twitter

 

 

 

A Painful Soul

“Scars

from battles hurt

as It should”

 

 

Way back when waking up every morning was a struggle (honestly not too long ago), I used to write into  my Journals aka my ugly notebook. I sometimes browse through them when I feel stuck.

My first journal is actually really depressing, I can’t believe the state of mind I was in back then, but there are some OK memories in there too.

This week I decided to reedit one of my poetry from it to prove to my readers who battle mental illness, and to myself that life can indeed get better. It is a journey, I still struggle and flop. However,  I am no longer that person, yet it is my story of which I’m proud 😀

Happy Friday!


 

Eyes

like alabaster

reaching into the darkness

of my soul,

I gasp.

 

Aroused

Inside me

A faux without doubt

Another life I’ve lived

stringing cords of distrust,

 

Or paranoia

the  definition of toxic

screaming out someone else’s pain

sliding through impressionable doom

unwillingly

 

The taste

like kolanut lingers

on my tongue

masking the chamomiley one

the ones before left

 

Scars

from battles hurt

as It should

yet I must separate the truth

from fallacy

 

Staggering

dysmorphia is crippling

oodles of bubbles ripple

through a heavy

fragile heart

 

let the  legs sink farther

quaking in unison as they bite dust

again and again

my soul will find your

darker soul.

 

Help.

friend, help!

For in solitude, I live

In solitude

I will dine.


 

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Love Only

 

” Love alone is the plug”

I’ve been dealing with  a lot as of  late. As a result, I have been meditating more to get me through. This phrase have helped me this week to counteract negativity, that’s why I decided I’d drop it  for anybody who needs to be empowered as well.

 

“There is no condemnation.

There is no judgement.

There is only love.”

 

I suppose the quote came as a result of  the fact that I have been too  hard on myself. I want to speak perfect Deutsch and I want to speak it yesterday.  It has been stressful on me because I held myself to a deadline that I think I may not meet.

On top of that, my sister got a tattoo. I tried to be as supportive as I could be when she told me she was getting one. Full disclosure, I didn’t know how to react or what to expect. When I saw the tatt, I kinda wished we would go back in time so I could tell her that it’s an absolute no from me.

These two  abstract emotions were what occupied my mind.  I believe in God’s holy book, and even more in his love. His love for me will manifest  in love for myself, and love for others.

For me that means that whether I meet my deadline or not, I can’t kill myself, in fact I ought to be proud of myself, and my sister. She’s young, maybe she will perhaps make terrible mistakes as I have, but she’ll bounce back even more so, as well.

For you, it could mean anything from self-love to world peace, whatever it is, I pray God’s guiding hands pull you towards the direction he wants you to go.

Namaste.

 

The Black hair Fiasco

“Every Hair-day  is wahala

 

I was twisting up my hair the other day.  It was the end of a wash day routine, and I randomly asked my boyfriend to help. He says yes much to my surprise meaning I’d actually have to trust him with my hair. I gulped, sectioned a portion of my hair for him.

This got me reminiscing about the time we met, I had the faux locs then.  He was in love with my hair. Months later, I decided to cut my hair as it lacked lustre. I was anxious and self aware, I didn’t know how he would react. But I trusted him. Three years later, I find myself still trusting him.

I’ve also learnt quite a bit about what Europeans think about African hair;

 

“Braids combined with dark skin  are a unique combination”

 

  1.  They think it’s exotic: Braids combined with dark skin  are a unique combination for the average eastern European, it’s not uncommon to get stares in public spaces, especially from the older generation. This reminds of the time, we went to a friend’s wedding, we visited the bride’s family home as well, and I introduced myself to their grandma. The look on her face was that of disbelief , it was meme worthy.
  2.  They think it’s natural: My boyfriend also thought the faux locs was my hair hair. But after some time together, he knew the difference between hair styles. I often get a lot of questions and requests to touch. I assume I’m not the only one.
  3. They find the natural hair rather comedic:  My german teacher confided in me once that the afro was sometime in the past known as, microphone head.  I died from laughter, apparently the phrase is still used, just not as popular as before. We also went through a phase when my hair was short, where my boyfriend’ll pat it and say, “sheep”, lol, in the sweetest way possible.
  4.  hair style change means new person:  I had reintroduced myself a few times to teachers and colleagues simply because I took out a previous hair style and rocked something entirely different. This is the stressful bit, and then the questions roll in which  exasperated  me further.

Three years  since going natural, and two big chops later, I have to  say it’s been an exercising journey. There has been up ups, down downs, and safety breeches, but I’ve loved and nourished my hair (and self) through it all.

If you’re wondering why I dedicated a whole post to talking about hair, it’s just because I think that black women, and our rights as a whole have come a long way, from doing everything necessary to have our hair look like our caucasian counterpart, and consequently destroying it in the process, to just letting ourself be loved as we naturally are. I don’t know who started the natural hair movement but I’ll use this opportunity to say thank you.

Now, let us flourish!

 

 

Oracle

 

Oracle

 

Perhaps it’s is glaringly obvious that I’m a tad fascinated with the occult.This time I decided to focus on  communities like the illuminati in an aboriginal perspective with a short story of an oracle.  This takes place in the Urban tribe of Asaba in Nigeria.

Share your lovely thoughts, how do you think it should play out, Should my protagonist  accept her fate or confront it?.

Cheers to the long weekend!

 


 

 

“Be keen on your decision” said the hag to Chioma, “there’s no turning back from this”.

 

Chioma’s mind was in pieces, she couldn’t stop wondering  how she got into this predicament. She was hoping that the hag was only trolling her.

 

Ha! that’s it. In a few minutes a camera crew is going to burst through the tent and her, and this fake-ass oracle woman will have a jolly laugh

 

Eyes ever so intently fixed on the entrance.

 

“Chil—,” The hag snapped her fingers in an attempt to get the girl’s attention.

“Where’s the camera?,” Chioma was frustrated. “Is it in that deplorable head wrap of yours? II mean, what is your game here?”

“THIS IS NOT A GAME!,” the hag spat. ” I’m offering you a resolution.

“This is hardly a solution,” Chioma spoke in a fear-gripped tone, realising that there is all too real. “Taking one part of my life to replace another is not fair”

“The spirits are never fair, silly girl, You must accept your fate with dignity. Only one man has dared to challenge the oracle and lived to tell.”

 

As Chioma sat there deep in thoughts, she began to reminisce of what a beautiful life she was having until this moment. She started her week in such high spirits,  Entertaining others have always been a dream of hers. She was determined to challenge pending adversary.

It was while she was on her way to her betrothed’s, that she saw the tent. She had shrugged it off and continued her trip when she stumbled across the witch who said to her;

“Do you believe I can make your heart desire come to pass?”

 

She had followed the hag back to the tent and attempted to pay her for a prediction.

 

The woman spat; “Your coins are worth nothing to the spirit. This is no  prediction child. What you surely ask, the oracle will generously deliver…. but be forewarned for the price is heavy. Do you accept?”

 

Chioma nodded.

 

“Ayeye ayayah keke nyin.
Ayeyeyeyah ndibe nzu kwa ti mutele.
Ndi ndo udo udi keke nyin kwa mutele.
Nzu mkpe amadu ndibe kwa ti mutele.”

The hag continued to recite the incantation and then proceeded to mark Chioma’s temple with a coal talisman.

 

“The spirit invite you to say your wish”

“I want to be the greatest performer of all time”.

 

The hag whistled for damn near 30 minutes.

 

“What you wish for  is done, in return, your first child will the son of the oracle.”

Chioma argued, “I’ve given myself, isn’t it enough?”

“You are merely  the down payment. Give up your first child, this is the deal the oracle is willing to make.”

“Never!”

“Then you may choose success or  save your child”.

” Or what?” she frowned

“You will lose your life in a fortnight,” cautioned the witch.


Early the next morning, Chioma hung a satchel over her shoulder and set out.

Before midday, she was going to cross the first  of many rivers.

The woman wasn’t clever telling her that the oracle had been defeated. She must  convince this warrior to do it all again, or become a victim of circumstance.Whether she liked it or not, her purpose has been changed forever.

 

 

 

Different

Must we let society dictate our fate?

Must we allow our tumultuous mind gain control?

What seed could sprout approval from your heart?

what is it you’re afraid to  give up, or the world may take away?

It all begins with one person. One mind. One entity

Yes it begins with  who you believe you are

Time and again we draw ourselves towards the fear of unconformity

When we were truly born to stand out

If only I’d know it all along

I threw away my beliefs so no one would think I was conceited

I could be ostracised, as a freak of nature

But I was never meant to be her

and she was never meant to walk like me

and we were never meant to think alike.

We are divergent and that works better

so what is it you believe in?

shout it from a rooftop today.

 

For the culture

Dear Motown lover, I absquatulated to Narnia

to see the gold ensemble of  war ships north of  the  loch ness

 

To feel the warm orange  sun pacify  my bosom

and finesse the taste of smooth jazz and  Scottish scotch

 

‘Tho I have been exiled into solitude,

I  couldn’t hide from your bearded face

 

I  remember that beat, the extended sense of rhythm

I needed it like I needed to hallucinate

 

like I was breathing  forcefully without it

It was an aesthetic I needed to share

 

I found a place beyond grassy dunes, overlaying damp rusty urban roofs

through a collection of beaded curtains,  is the glistening of vintage hues

 

This place sets my heart ablaze, my oh so cold and pale heart

The only sane voices I hear this days speak through the bass

 

I will still be in this place 59 moons later

threading the thin clouds of imagination and unconventional literature

 

Some days I’m numb, some days I’m woke

both days I can’t stand the blood of vengeance out there

 

So I replay this vibe in my head, over and over and over

and over on those midsummer nights

 

And I write these poems for you everyday,  for the culture

Just in case you come searching for me someday.

 


Thanks for reading. Please subscribe for my free e-book

Image from: lushpin.com

 

 

 

 

 

The Best Instagram Model ever

Meet Troja, an Irish Setter who spends her days exploring the Norwegian wilderness with her hooman and putting IG influencers TO 👏 SHAME. 👏

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Floof & Ferns

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Her hooman, photographer George Rotan, spoke to BuzzFeed about Troja, running their account @george_and_troja, and their various aesthetically pleasing adventures!!!

“Troja always came with me on hikes, but I never thought about photographing her until people on the trail started complimenting her looks,” Rotan

“Since I’ve started taking pictures of her, it’s created more of an interaction between us on our hikes. It’s led to a very strong companionship,” he said.

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Remember kids, if you freeze, freeze with style.

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Rotan got Troja back in 2012 shortly after his previous dog passed away. And originally, Troja’s caretaker thought she was too anxious to go to a home.

“Troja was very weak and insecure as a pup, but she had such a soulful, unique personality,” Rotan said. “I instantly fell in love with her and vowed to help her get better.”

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If you could only smell my world

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After challenging her to explore new places and meet different people, other dogs, and wild animals, Rotan says Troja is stronger and happier than ever!

Now, George and Troja go on daily hikes and over 100,000 people follow their beautiful adventures on Instagram!

UGH. What a life!!!!!! 💖💖💖

source: Instagram, buzzfeed