Self Love

“Tell me you love me,” I whispered, staring down at my feet.

He paused beside the open door and I could sense his hesitation.

“I love you Sophia... but you know I don’t really like it when you ask me to say it.”

Then he cupped my tear-stained face in his hands and kissed my lips gently.

“Sophia, I’ll never leave you.”

***

I blinked and forced myself to focus on the wedding proceedings. I should not have agreed to be Tomi’s chief bridesmaid. Not now. Not when I still had the band-aid on my heart. Plastic smiles look horrible in pictures and Tomi would never forgive me for ruining her wedding.

So I tried. I tried to focus on happier times.

But I could not remember any. The events of the past few months had erased them all.

We were going to live happily ever after, we had planned the wedding and my head was firmly the clouds.

“This is it; this is my dream man,” I’d thought, firmly pushing the niggling doubts that occasionally arose to the back of my mind.

Like the time you said you don’t like palm oil jollof rice.

The time you said you prefer weaves and wigs to natural hair.

The other time you said you like it when women wear makeup and high heels.

The day you suggested I dress a certain type of way; sleek not bohemian.

How you always felt your opinions were superior to mine, even when the opinions were about me...

But my palm-oil-jollof-loving-natural-hair-minimum-makeup-bohemian-dress-wearing self shrugged. Marriage is about compromises and surely all these were not too much to sacrifice for love. Surely there are far worse things than living without okpei infused palm oil jollof cooked with dry fish and beef. Being single, for example.

So I stayed.

I bought books, fixed a weave, wore shoes that made my feet hurt, and lost whatever belief I had in myself.

My voice, which I had only just begun to hear, was subdued. Again.

But you meant well. You wanted the best for me. I wasn’t living. You were teaching me.

So I stayed.

Then you left.

***

My phone vibrated.

“Sophia for goodness sakes give Tomi a handkerchief and adjust her dress. For once, take your job seriously.”

I bristled. The text was from Tomi’s younger sister, Tolu, who still had not forgiven me for usurping her as chief bridesmaid.

Lesson learnt, Tolu. Lesson learnt.

I hurriedly gave Tomi the handkerchief, adjusted her dress and even gave her a glass of water. She looked at me worriedly and I said a quick thank you to God for waterproof mascara.

I took my mirror out of my bag to check my face just to make sure my makeup was still intact.

Face, eyebrows, lips were still on fleek.

But beneath the layers, I could see the hurt little girl.

And I hear her, for the first time in months...

“Tell me you love me,” she says, in a tiny little voice.

I smile ruefully and wipe the tears that fall unbidden.

“I love you Sophia.”

 Image source: http://ilovemyself.net/25-daily-affirmations-to-improve-self-esteem/

First Date Diary- Broken glass

“Don’t cry over spilt milk”, they say. To be fair, I did not cry immediately but knelt on the floor and tried to save as much milk as possible. Sometime later, surrounded by dirty rags and no milk, I cried.

“Don’t try to fix broken glass, you might hurt yourself”, they say. I remembered this when the first tiny shard pierced my skin. Or was it the second, or the third? I looked down at my bloody hands through blurry eyes. Blurry? I had been crying and I did not even know. All I remembered was that my precious, priceless flower vase had accidentally fallen to the ground and shattered into a million pieces. Instinctively, I had fallen to the ground and tried gathering the pieces together with my bare hands.

Aisha's Dreams: Part 1

“Aisha! Put some more wood in the fire and fan the flames.” Halima called from where she sat rocking the baby with one hand and picking stones and husks from a tray of beans with the other hand.

I dropped the book reluctantly and hurried to the outdoor kitchen. The last time I disobeyed Halima because I was engrossed in a book and honestly did not hear her call, she seized the book and I nearly got in trouble with the association. The association has many unwritten but binding rules; three strikes and you will be expelled for three months. I already had two strikes thanks to Halima and Gambo and shuddered at the thought of being unable to borrow a book for three months.

The only reason I did not have three strikes already was because the last time Gambo seized my book and locked it in his portfolio, I figured out the combination password, stole it while he was at work and returned it. My back still hurts from the flogging I got that day and now I am very careful not to read around Gambo. He has no problem with my regular school books but frowns at the novels and magazines, and it is no use hiding the novels between my school books or wrapping them in old newspapers because he is on to all my tricks. If I get bad eyes in the future, it’ll be Gambo’s fault for making me read under the covers with the aid of torchlight.

I miss Mama’s reading days. I remember when I did not have to borrow books because Mama always had new ones. She blames the books for her big mistake; she never should have married Dan. Dan the actor formerly known as Danladi came back from the city without most of his name and morals but with a lot of charm and sweet-talks. Mama was swept off her feet, literally. He reminded her of another Dan, a character in one of her novels; tall, dark, athletic and street wise. She was enthralled. After Papa died, Mama gave up on marriage but Dan made her change her mind within a few weeks.  Mama was smiling again and excitedly planning the wedding.

One Thursday, Dan did not visit at his usual time. By evening time, everybody knew why; Dan had gone back to his wife and two children in the city. Mama did not even know that he was married. The following day, mama burnt all her books and there were two heartbroken people in the house. Mama was heartbroken because Dan had deceived her, and I was broken because I had only managed to hide a few books before mama burnt them.

I made a vow that day; I will never allow any man break my heart.

I put some more wood in the fire, fanned the flames and carried the baby from Halima’s arms. I returned to my book and continued reading the story of Maryam, the young woman who became the first female doctor in her village against all odds.

I am going to be a doctor when I grow up.

Image :https://pixabay.com/en/sunset-island-mar-dusk-brain-485016/

God's masterpiece

What do you see when you look at me?

I mean really look at me?

What’s the first word that comes to your mind?

Do you see the good or the bad?

My curves or my edges

My hair

My smile or the colour of my skin

My scars, marks or tattoos

My past

I’m not here to take pride in my past

Or the names I have been called

This is not the MTV VMAs

Amber and Blac Chyna already did that

This is my testimony

It was a cold November night

A few years ago

I needed a fix

Braving the weather I walked out of my apartment

On the lonely roads of the city

Looking for the one thing I felt would make me better

It was a long walk

But I eventually found it

The little shop, tucked in a corner

This was my life

From one fix to the next

One high to the other

Upping the doses

Switching the sources

Shame, filth, guilt

Addiction, hopelessness, despair

Lost… and I didn’t even know it

I remember the first time I heard the story

Of the one who came to set the captives free

Who died that I might live

And whose blood could cleanse me

And who could save from that which was too strong for me

At first I didn’t understand

How could I?

But he tugged at my heartstrings

The one who claimed to love me in spite of it all

So I prayed.

Today, I am man

Or should I say ‘woman’

Created in the image of God

A reflection of the most High

Forged with sword made of better than Valyrian steel

The sword of the Spirit- The word of God

Words pure as silver tried in a furnace of earth, purified seven times

Quick

Powerful

Sharper than any two-edged sword

Like fire

And like a hammer which shatters a rock

I’ve had some work done; I’m not ashamed of this…

All the works, and some nips and tucks here and there

No, not by Dr McDreamy

But by the Great physician

I am the clay, He is the potter

I am a branch of the true vine, He the vinedresser

He is like an eagle hovering over its nest, overshadowing its young,

Then spreading its wings, lifting them into the air, teaching them to fly

God alone leads me

He has made me into a polished arrow and concealed me in his quiver

I am a jewel of the King

I am God’s masterpiece

And this label, I will proudly wear.

Image source: http://www.lovethispic.com/image/168453/gods-masterpiece

Jogging Wars- tales from last Saturday

I jog very slowly. Seriously. And I mean almost walking-level-slow-jog. I try to up and vary my speed by intermittently switching between a run, fast jog, and slow jog. However, most of the time, I slow jog.

Now I know pace is important when exercising as you burn more calories when you fast jog than when you slow jog or walk for the same amount of time. So it hurts a bit that I don’t fast jog as much as I would like to.

But I am also aware that distance, angle of inclination (eg running up hills and steps), and time also matter. So I play around with the things that I can readily change; I increase the distance, slope and jogging time and I am mostly fine. In fact most times I am not too worried about my pace and go home feeling pretty smug with myself.

Until last Saturday

Friday Meditations- Nobody goes hungry in the Kingdom

Five thousand men, not counting women and children, were gathered around Him. They had come from far and near for various reasons; some because of the many signs and wonders they had seen him perform, others brought their sick to be healed. Some others were just curious about the man and the Kingdom he talked about all of the time, the Kingdom of God.

But this story is not about the many reasons why people sought to see or hear Him.

This story is about something more basic, food.

So anyhow, these thousands of men and women were hungry. Jesus could have continued talking and healing but he knew that nothing would penetrate the cloud of hunger that was beginning to overshadow their hearts and minds. He also knew that at that point, food was more important than malaria to many people.

So, being an all round great guy who had promised to supply needs and also knew how hunger pangs felt (because he had been hungry a number of times), he decided to do something about it.

Being a leader and a teacher also, he knew an opportunity when he saw one; an opportunity to teach his disciples.

So he called one of his disciples (The conversation below is paraphrased):

"What can we do about this?" Jesus asked.

"That's a tough question Sir. You see my uncle Jeb just had a party for 1000 people and he killed a cow, cooked many bags of rice and semovita, and spent a lot of money on drinks and small chops. For this number, we would need more than that. I have seen the bag of money that Judas holds, and trust me, it don't look like it weigh enough to feed this number. Send them home Sir." The disciple said, astonished that Jesus would suggest the something/anything could be done.

And Jesus was like "Ehm what were we talking about again?"

"The kingdom of God, Sir", the disciple replied.

"Well nobody goes hungry in the Kingdom of God. So tell me, what do we have, food not money?"

"Five loaves of bread Sir and a few fish...", the disciple answered.

"It is more than enough."Jesus said.

Okay let’s backtrack a bit; I can finish five loaves of bread and a few fish. I mean me... just me alone...

At this point, all twelve disciples were looking at Jesus like seriously?

So Jesus took the bread and fish, blessed them, and gave to his disciples to share among the crowd.

All the people (I mean the thousands of men, women, and children) ate and were filled leaving twelve baskets of surplus food.

And I imagine Jesus was like, “what did I tell you? no one goes hungry in the Kingdom of God. You are more important than the birds of the air and the lilies in the field and your heavenly father takes care of them. So don’t worry about tomorrow; what to eat or wear. Just abide in me. You see, you are my body and I will always cherish and nourish you. Do you believe this?”

The Nigerian Food Mafia

Nigerians are the absolute worst when it comes to their food. True. Take a Nigerian to London, Toronto, or Sydney, and the first thing they look for is the nearest African (read Nigerian) restaurant or African/Asian food store. The other day, I heard about how one foreign institution hosted a group of visiting lecturers from Nigeria and decided to treat them to light lunch – sandwiches, tea and coffee. They needn’t have bothered as their visitors did not as much as touch, talk less of taste the food.

Imagine organising a Nigerian wedding at the North Pole and forgetting to serve Jollof rice.

Belly fat and Other short stories

Belly fat and Other short stories

“Hope is not a strategy”, John Maxwell.

The belly fat is still there! After four weeks, four whole weeks of exercise. Well, three weeks of exercise and one week of lounging if we are being really sincere. Still...

The scales have refused to budge also. Ladies and gentlemen, in the past four weeks, I have lost a grand total of 0.2 kilograms!

This year I made some unofficial New Year resolutions. Eat better, exercise more, live more... But I did not want to rush them you know, because I was afraid that I would not be able to continue through the year. So I decided to take them a little slowly and didn’t really do any exercise or healthy eating in January. Needed to plan and build up enough zeal and willpower to start and sustain the weight loss/healthy eating goal.

Anyway, early February, I realised that I had been sitting on my bum for a bit and some belly (well a lot of belly), had somehow crept up on me. I blame the puffpuffs, chocolates, cakes, and ‘Churros’, my latest addition.

“Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels” Kate Moss.

Kate Moss has obviously never tasted freshly fried Churros dipped in Nutella and sprinkled with sugar on a cold winter day. Skinny could never ever ever taste so good!

But I digress.

Anyway, so I started slowly with the exercise and hoped the healthy eating bit would catch up. There’s this square right in front of my house and on the first day, I jogged round two times and walked the remaining four times. Then I gradually increased the distance and within two weeks, I was jogging ten laps at a stretch.

But the scale wouldn’t budge.

And the naysayers! Just the other day, Julius told me that “upon all your jogging we never see anything...”

Now I know two weeks is pretty short so I was not discouraged... initially.

Instead, I pumped up my exercise routine; increased my pace and distance, switched up my routes, and pushed myself a little each day.

I started dieting also; not them fuzzy fad diets, just portion control and upping my intake of fruit, veg and water, and thanking God that there’s no Churros vendor near my house!

So now its four weeks and I proudly climbed the scale this morning. 0.2kg.

It was very discouraging, and I almost thought of quitting. That’s when I realised that I had been going about this wrongly; I had been too busy focusing on one specific outcome, or two, that I was missing out on loads of other benefits I have gained since I started exercising.

It’s true that the weight is still there, and my belly still has a long way to go...

But...

·         I have not gained any weight

·         I feel so much lighter and stronger

·         I have so much more energy (I think!)

·         I am healthier and reducing my risks for obesity, cardiovascular disease, etc

·         I get to wear my gym clothes that have been folded up for more than a year

·         I get to feel a sense of achievement and pride every time I jog, every time I push myself, every time I do much more than I thought I was capable of. Today I ran twelve laps!

·         I get to dream again; I’ll run marathons, I’ll go hiking long distances, and I’ll climb mountains... I may even learn a new sport.

Most importantly, I am learning to enjoy the process.

I love the feel of the early morning breeze on my face, the pain when I push myself a little too hard, the way my body protests at the start but later eases into the jog and loosens up...

I have also noticed that when I use the right mirror, and stand at just the right angle, my belly looks almost flat.

The belly fat is still there, but it has stopped jiggling when I walk.

“Care about the journey”, Davidb.

The Tourist

The Tourist

It came to me suddenly, like most good things do. It was a particularly hot day, well it had been a very hot month, but that day was the hottest of them all. True. Sade had gone out with her boyfriend and Linda was in the middle of another heartbreak and another tub of ice cream, so I had to make do with my own company.

After my third shower and tenth bottle of cold water, I was almost contemplating subjecting myself to Linda’s latest heartbreak story – a fate worse than torture by Ramsay Bolton- just so I could share her ice cream. That’s when I knew that I had to get out or risk losing my mind and my ‘almost flat’ belly.

I grabbed a mat and headed for the veranda.

It was a moonless, cloudless, and dry night. I made a note to fervently pray for rain during the next prayer meeting.

It came to me while I was counting the stars. Or maybe it came earlier, when I noted that the earth was dry and thirsty... almost like me

But at least the earth knew that it wanted, needed, water

Three stars were perfectly aligned, with equal amount of space between them (at least from where I lay)

I realised that I do not know much about stars, what they are, why they are where they are, how important they are to sailors...

I realised I do not know much about many things

I knew what I wanted

No, needed

Linda drove me to the airport the following day.

“Hope is not a strategy”, he said.

I had hoped to travel the world long enough...

It was time to ‘do’ it.

Keep Moving

Keep Moving

"The lazy man says, “There is a lion outside!
I shall be slain in the streets!” Psalm 22:13

Hi everyone, it's been a very long time and this was not the plan...
I was going to write something (anything) at least once every week (or two), but life...
I have started writing at least a dozen times but stopped halfway because, no sense...
Even right now, the creative juices are not flowing and something tells me to stop...
"You can't post this..."
"This makes no sense..."
"This is not the least bit creative..."
"Nobody is going to read this (Had to leave Facebook and Twitter because life...)..."
"Absolutely no publicity..."

But the other voice says "I should keep moving..."
You see, if I keep stopping at every negative thought, I'll never do anything...
I have to write something (or anything), if I am to keep writing...
And it's not just writing...
It's life generally...
I have to keep moving in every area of my life...
Keep praying...
Keep seeking...
Keep knocking...
Keep reading...
Keep working...
Keep hoping...
Keep building...
Keep digging...
Keep believing...
Keep following Jesus Christ...
Keep the faith...

So I'll write something (anything)...
Knowing that this, even this, is a step in the Right (Write) direction...
Amen

The Past

There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind. C.S. Lewis

If I had known beforehand that I would be upgraded to business class at no extra cost, I would have dressed the part. But there I was in sweats, hair that had not seen a comb in many weeks (blame #teamnatural) and boots which had seen better years days. In an attempt to look somewhat presentable, I pushed my hair under a beanie hat I found in my carryon bag while searching, in vain, for a lipstick.

Well played universe.

Tick tock (Concluding story)

Tick tock (part 3)

“Even when the Jury and the judge say you have the right to bear a grudge, it’s the whisper in your ear saying set it free...” Forgiveness – Matthew West

“I am not dying Priscilla.” He said.

That made me smile. After all these years, George could still read my mind. My friends think I have an inscrutable face. Not George, he could always call my bluff.

“Poker night is not the same without you George.” I said

He smiled and his mouth curved up in that slightly crooked way that always made me want to reach out and straighten his lips. To fix his smile. Mum said that I needed to work on my obsessive compulsive need to fix everything and everyone around me. She said that was one of the reasons why my marriage was crumbling. I did not believe that for one second. George and I both knew why our marriage had crumbled.

He had cheated.

Tick tock 2

Tick tock 2 (Priscilla’s story)

It was getting late. The alcohol was long gone and I was too tired to go out and buy another bottle. I was more than just physically tired, I was emotionally and mentally drained. My marriage had taken its toll on me.

I had lost interest in everything and my mood was persistently low. The doctor said I was clinically depressed and had prescribed some medications. But how do you treat the symptoms when the root cause was eating into me daily like a cancer.

I was tired of trying; tired of trying to fix something that could not be fixed. It had gone from bad to worse and when the sex, the last thing that held us together, stopped, I employed the services of a divorce lawyer. I did not intend to be caught off guard.

Tick Tock

Tick Tock

"This used to be a funhouse, but now it's full of evil clowns. It’s time to start the countdown..." P!nk - funhouse

Tick Tock

Ten years

Ten bloody whole years

Priscilla took a swig from the almost empty gin bottle. She knew drinking was a bad idea. Especially today. She should not be drinking today. He would be furious if he found her this way. The thought made her smile; he never got angry these days.

First date diaries: The young and the restless

The young and the restless.

“There’s always one that gets away. The one that sneaks up on you then slips away” P!nk

Most times I do not remember him. It happened a long time ago and I like to think that I am over it, that I am over him. Then the little things happen and I find myself remembering.

Like last week, during my mandatory quarterly spring clean (just in time for the Landlord’s inspection), I found the dress he bought for me on my birthday. Many years after the break-up, that dress is still the most expensive piece of clothing I own. I know it does not fit anymore but I am reluctant to let it go, I mean that dress probably cost more than I earn in a month. I looked around at my pile of clothes and shoes and wondered what my wardrobe would have looked like if we were still together.

The other day when I went perfume shopping, I thought about him. I never bought perfume for myself when we were together. And he bought only the best. I thought about my account balance and carefully sidestepped Dior, Chanel, Wang, and the likes, and bought Beyonce’s Pulse. I had the perfect excuse - I am a huge fan of king Bey and a card-carrying member of the Beyhive. That is my line and I am sticking to it.