Happy New Year

Rest your head on my bosom, camaraderie

for we’ve swam long rivers and hurdled hills

we’ve known each other for 10 long moons

and I hope we will 10 x 10 more

I’ve come to you in times of crippling doubt,

you’ve had my back when I was singled out

and even when I couldn’t think clear

you pulled me from the other side of fear.

Let you head linger on my bosom a while longer

as we greet the sun at the dawn of a new day

beginning at the first day of a new century

I bid you not to part ways

lets start together, hand in hand

Fill this vase with happiness and tears

Sip from each other’s chalace

we can stare out of the window on rainy days

Wait until the clouds are replaced by rainbows

say you’ll honestly be there,

in fairytales and in the real world

because If I were asked to tell my life’s journey

it would start with me and continue with you.

Happy 2020 Bloggers, Readers, Visitors. Camaraderie.

God said No

This was posted in a WhatsApp group and I couldn’t resist sharing.

I asked God to take away my habit.

God said, No. It is not for me to take away but for you to give it up.

I asked God to make my handicapped child whole.

God said, No. His spirit is whole, his body is only temporary.

I asked God to grant me patience.

God said, No. Patience is a byproduct of tribulations; it isn’t granted, it is learned.

I asked God to give me happiness.

God said, No. I give you blessings; Happiness is up to you.

I asked God to spare me pain.

God said , No. Suffering draws you apart from worldly cares and brings you closer to me.

I asked God to make my spirit grow.

God said, No. You must grow on your own, but I will prune you to make you fruitful.

I asked God for all things that I might enjoy life.

God said, No. I will give you life, so that you may enjoy all things.

I asked God to help me love others, as much as he loves me.

God said.. Ahh, finally you have the idea.

Let thy will be done

Sometimes I forget you see

that I’m not a bastard anymore

I’m still a careless child

but I don’t have to live in disconnect

trusting no one for so long as taught me to believe

that I had to survive alone in isolation

I had to think faster, work smarter

I tend to forgot that I don’t need to trade secrets to survive

neither do I need to keep secrets to feel a spur

it slips my mind. it really does.

There are layers to this journey called life

and likewise are there stages of the mind

but the biggest bullocks is of isolation

that’s when the voices become audible

sob a little louder why don’t you

no one can save you

it’s a dark droughty forest

one slip and you can sprain your ankle

and smash your head

scream louder but you’re still alone

doch!

what a noodle brain I have been

to forget I’m not alone

I had a father, and will have one for eternity

sometimes he breaths stillness in me

most times he prefers I move recklessly,

stumble on a table in a near psychotic episode

and he hears me loud and clear

he sees me when I visit our secret place

I forget sometimes that this place even exists

It needs a little spring cleaning, some home decor

but he’s there waiting

he sees my pain and replies, “it’s a process”

he gives me space in the darkness so I can ponder

that understand that there’s nothing truly there for me

I may scoff and curse, but in the end I utter the same words,

Father, let thy will be done.

The process

I tried many times to explain how it works

but really there is no formular to solve this

the mess is alway supposed to be ugly

Something you should hide from everyone that knows you

if they see it, you feel guilty. if they don’t, you feel guilty

you don’t tell anybody and you nurture fear

now there is hole, borrowed so deep you can’t see the end

this all started with your perception of the mess

look at the mess you’ve made

you’ve harvested a basket of regret

i can’t speak right, and i cant laugh right

but the mess could be beautiful too

i don’t need these guilt

i don’t need to worry about others beliefs

it’s the process of unravelling your mess that straps you tighter inside

like a fly struggling in a Venus fly trap

but you could see it as a person

let it know you’re still afraid but this phase will pass

as long as we live, there will always be new messes to process

better to work with it than to push against

there’s never been a formula for it

I am a mess, but i’m beautiful still.

I am Chicken

The past week has been terrifying, exhilarating and oddly memorable. The events which were all except subtle started out with me preparing for an Interview. The journey from Pécs, Hungary to Rodewisch, Germany lasted 9 hours, not including rest stops and Highway tickets we needed for crossing a few borders.

Our destination was a sleepy little town in east Germany. By the time we arrived, the town was in it’s default quiet mood. Even mosquitoes managed to turn in for the night. Our hotel’s reception was only available by phone call and no restaurant was open.

It reminded me of a movie I saw a while back, Silent hill If I’m not mistaken. But really any film where people disappear in small cities and no one ever remembers their last seen location. I half expected a man with a chainsaw and a mask of human skin to stagger across the road behind us as we checked into the hotel. In my defence, I gotta stay sharp and ready.

But no wonder, I was all anxious. This was my first interview ever so I did what normal people do, deliberately conjure up a series of apocalyptic events in order to take the edge off. That is what people do right? if the town was eradicated, I wouldn’t have the face a panel of healthcare experts judging my intellect and character. Alas my horror fantasies remained only fantasies.

Although the interview went better than my subconscious played it out, I did something that is unlike me. I chickened out.

I know I’m not a big city girl. As it turns out, I’m no small town girl either. I couldn’t imagine spending no less than 4 years doing my residency there. Even a caged phoenix like myself needed to feel the bustle and grind of life saturating the air around me. Neither my desperation for the position nor the amazing hospital staff could convince me to call Rodewisch home.

Hence, it wasn’t even midweek yet and I was devastated. So my hubby rode the spontaneous wave and detoured to Prague on our way back. It was my second time in the city. The first time I was in Prague, I tried tandem-jumping. This time, we visited the Thrill park.

Everything about thrill park was horrific. I thought it was odd that my husband found the place because he scares easy but perhaps he knew it would help me cease whining about the Job.

By the end of our talk with the host, we were more scared than ever. She added that we could simply yell out a safe word, “I am chicken”, at any point during the experience that we couldn’t continue. What kept me on my toes was really the fear of the unknown and a rumor that more than 800 people had chickened out.

We then made our way into the dungeon in complete darkness.

It was adrenaline surging, gut wrenching and utterly horrific. We held onto each other like we were each other’s breathing machine. I laughed each time I freaked out which was probably not the reaction the host expected.

It was as though all my favourite horror movies came to life around me and I was the protagonist. I wasn’t fazed by the costumed people or the wax figures. However, a period did come when my stamina was tested. After a spook from a monster, a red light turned on to indicate a key inside a toilet bowl. Being a huge fan of the saw franchise, I appreciated the reference. However I wasn’t about to put my hand down there even if it was clean.

I just couldn’t. I was chicken.

My husband reached down there and found the key attached to a long chain that attached to the toilet. We felt our way around the prison bars and found the key hole. We soon continued our journey once again in darkness.

The exercise ended at the 24th minute with Jason pursuing us up a flight of stairs with a sputtering chainsaw.

In the end, I had an amazing week because I learnt a couple of things. Since the world didn’t end like I thought it would, I would recommend travellers visiting Prague to check the thrill park out and if brave enough, try tandem jumping too, because truth is, you never know what you’ll discover when you decide to wear your heart on your sleeve.

Inside the dungeon

My Journey

 

Graduation week. I was fatigued, mentally, even before it began and although I turned to exercise to recuperate, It only seemed to worsen with physical stress. The only person this was harder on was my sister. My beloved Viktor was on an emotional rollercoaster, he was trepid with anxiety. Now some may wonder why graduation would be anything but Joy and relief,  while some of you might already have guessed it. My parents, the Ukuts, were coming to town.

Naturally, I was more worried about my boyfriend’s first encounter with my parents than I was about the graduation, to further complicate things, Nigerian tradition demands a formal introduction.

Dr Otuekong Ukut has made quite a name for himself because he is determined and strong-willed. He’s the type of person you notice in a room because of the panache way he carries himself, he can be rather obdurate—kinda like me. Then you have my Mum, Mfon Ukut, a torrid energetic Leo and a colossal bundle of fun.

To God be the Glory, both my introduction and graduation hit off well and I unknowingly achieved two important milestones in my life. I will definitely not be missing med school. Next week, I will go back to posting on Fridays. Here are some of the photos of events that took place these past days. Official Grad photos will be uploaded later.

arrivederci, Dr Idara-abasi Ukut. 30/06/2018

 

 

memoirs of Alex

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