Tuesday, 4 December 2012

Something lasting..

I've been thinking about this for a while and talking to myself and this is letting you in into my uttermost desire.
The hustling and bustling of life could easily take one away from the core of living, you get caught up in so many justifiable activities or causes that you sometimes forget why you are here. This day I am asking myself, what is this all about? the crave to live and live well, make money and make more money, to know and know more, care and be cared for, give and receive, pray and get answers, be on top of your game and know your onions ……endless lists

So I’m saying to myself, “Bb, don’t stay held down in that circle, there is more, stay connected to your core and be an experience”.

I don't want to leave a place and people don't remember I was there, I need something better than a perfume, a lasting fragrance; something kinda forever. Someone once shared how awful it is when you have spent a considerable part of your time with people and they forget you in no time, he calls it the nil experience, peeps don't remember you were there.

Been married for a while now, just wondering, do my parents miss me? As in for real, not just emotions, did I leave an experience with them for the 3 decades we spent together? Or am I ‘just a child’?

I lived a while with my pastor and his wife, does she miss my presence in the house? Was I just one church girl who lived with her?
What memories do my friends have of me? Talking buddies or what? (Anyway I know 2 who think I’m ‘da bomb’, they tell me all the time, *I LOVE YOU TOO GIRLS*)

 What does my boss think of me? Can she remember working with me when I leave? Have I been able to make an impression? I don't want to be just another employee with a file to her name.

I just want to be an experience, something kinda forever, some lasting joy, some bliss, some worthy memory. My heart cry is to be a game changer, I just want to be different, I want to be an experience…some sweet smelling lasting fragrance

So I’m making a choice, I’ll play only to an audience of one! My God and creator

I’ll play so hard He would vouch for me like he did for Job, I would play so hard, he would make me enviable like David, I would play so hard he would share secrets with me, walk in his steps, He can have my heart and use them to share the love, we’ll share his mind and I’ll be sound, I won’t be anything less than what he desires, that’s my heart desire and that is what I get.  I shall love the Lord, my God with all my heart, with all my soul and with all my might; that’s my way of playing hard, no other rules would work for me!

He can have my soul and fill it with his fragrance, then I’ll just spread the aroma, I need that fragrance like I need the breath in me, I can’t afford to just be another girl down the street. That alone would satisfy this yearning.    

The secret of the Lord is with those who fear him, he shares his covenants with them, he will share with me because I have resolved to come take a seat with him like never before, his face I would seek and his path I would work and together we shall leave imprints.

Tuesday, 6 November 2012

Don't stay in there

He is my good friend, old enough to be my dad; I simply call him Baba because he has since become my second daddy. His story inspires me all the time. He was a merchant, well known and reputable in his station; he had 3 big shops in the town where he was selling bags of rice, sugar, flour and salt. He had enough resources to live large, had enough to cater for his big family of 15 (yes 15) and some extra to give people like me, his adopted daughter. He was the live of the home, down to earth, playful and truthful, he was popular, you could get credit facilities on his name and I am not exaggerating.

Then things took some bad turns, commodities weren't as profitable as they were and Baba already had a large family that needed to be catered for and his bills were growing by the day, gradually one after the other he closed all the stores and yet the bills weren't disappearing or diminishing.

Guess what he did after he had done all he could and things weren't better, my big, popular, celebrated, societal daddy started selling sachet water (pure water), he dug a bore hole in his house, turned his big garage into a factory and started the business. He hired 2 experienced hands to run the factory and got his younger kids to work there after school and the older ones to drive the delivery fan. It was indeed a trying time, but he would tell me, "it will pass"!

He lost all that tummy fat without exercises, and when you tell him, "Baba, you are losing weight, he would say, my dear, I feel lighter and I sleep better", he would make a joke out of his situation and make you see the brighter side of life. Baba kept going on, then he started rental services and business was picking up, you buy bags of water from him for your party, you also rent his chairs and cooking utensils. This story is in the past now, this man drives a Prado now, he has other businesses beside the ones I have shared, life is again like it used to be if not better.

Have I mentioned that Baba doesn't have a University degree? He had no inspiring words from any formal life coach, he took it upon himself to lead his life, not staying in the ruts but moving on.

"Are you going through hard times now? Do me a favour, will ya? square up your shoulders, chin up, open your eyes, smile and keep walking"- @DupeKilla, great words right? They sank into me!

Life throws so many stuffs at us and sometimes we are tempted to stop in our tracks, don't stop, keep walking, as long as you are headed in the right direction.

Life situations scream at us every day, remember that fig tree Jesus thought should have fruit but didn't? Jesus spoke back to that fig tree; you don't close your mouth at your situation, when life says you are hopeless, raise your voice above that situation and tell yourself with a loud voice, there is hope for you.

I don't have all that I desire of life now but I'm encouraged to say to myself, “keep walking girl, there is hope for you”.

I still wait for tricycles at the bus-stop but I smile a lot because there is hope for me.

I have dreams yet unfulfilled, I have aspirations but I have a God to look up to, and I assure myself He is on my team.

You may need to get a skill to improve on your life, you may need to get an education (formal or informal), these are part of the walking process. Just keep walking, don't stop here, life is a journey, not a destination.

You may need to start a business seemingly smaller than you, or pick a job your friends would not, you only have yourself to answer to (or maybe some small mouths you need to feed and I tell you, these ones don't care about the JD), forget what people would think, lead your life.

It doesn't matter where you start from, our lives have different stories and each has its own peculiarity, there is no perfect model and our journey differs, you just keep walking!

Support yourself with people who would encourage your attempts at success and encourage you to go on. Society only celebrates men who make efforts after they have success stories, but you need to make efforts.

Don’t stay in there in that situation, keep walking. Walk with me, I’m still walking!


Friday, 28 September 2012

Drawing the lines

She was my mum’s neighbour, when I was about 6 years old. There were 3 young married ladies in the house at that time, my mum, her best friend at that time and this particularly quiet and extremely beautiful woman. For some strange reasons, they all had babies at the same time, so they were home for about 6 months taking care of their children. My mum said, this woman I will refer to her as “Mrs. A”, even though reserved and a kind of fear written all over her. she was constantly looking at the time and at 5 minutes to 3pm she would jump up and run down to her flat, at first my mum said she and her best friend thought Mrs. A did this out of respect for her hubby, who was a civil servant at that time and was always home at 3.30pm, but after a while when they noticed that whenever she saw them in the compound and her hubby was around, she won’t greet them or even acknowledge their greetings. They knew something was fishy. They tried to find out what, but she wouldn’t say and will always find a topic to divert their attention.
So one day she opened up and showed them all the bruises she had on her body. In my mum’s words she told me “I could not just fathom how that Mr. Kinta Kunte (her phrase for very short men) could always beat that woman. To be honest we are talking Danny Devito and Naomi Campbell here LOL! (Small man big ego) I hope you have started to laugh? Anyway, one morning Mrs. A came up and told my mum and her friend, that she knew how the beatings would stop, my mum said, she said it in a very gentle tone, and they could not imagine that she was going to do what she did.

They noticed that after a while she had no more fear written all over her, she made her hair, wore a bit of make-up but she was still the dutiful wife and mother, the only difference was she was happy. They continued to ask her what she did, her hubby no longer had that ego written all over him and she greeted them even when her husband was there and even the man became friendlier.

My mum said they were dying to know her trick, but she was too private a woman, but one day as they asked her again she told them, but what she said was mind blowing. She said “I gave him the beating of his life”. My mum said, Mrs. A said it in a gentle voice that they thought they heard her wrong. “What did you say? The other woman asked”, without a drop or a raise in the pitch of her voice she said  “you heard me right the first time, I beat him, he has beaten me for almost 11 years every other day, I have not said a word or resisted, but I couldn’t take it anymore. So when he wanted to beat me, I held his hands, you know I’m taller than him, I gave him two dirty slaps and beat him till he was begging, but to cover his shame since the children were used to him beating me in the bedroom, I was the one begging him to leave me and that I was sorry”. My mum said she couldn’t believe what she just heard. She continued with her story, that after she was satisfied she went to the kitchen to serve his meal which was the usual thing to do after he beats her, but for the first time in their years of marriage, he couldn’t eat.
The Children were surprised but she carried on as if nothing happened. She said that Mr. A woke her up at the middle of the night to ask for forgiveness and to say he was sorry. “What did you then say?” asked my mum, “nothing, she replied. I just smiled and, went back to sleep”.
So I ask you today, who was wrong? Who was guilty of spousal abuse? Mr. or Mrs.? They are grandparents today. A friend shared this story, I thought to share with you; Ask Sista Bola, that’s her page on facebook.

Another story: Mrs B. was extremely intelligent, kind, simple and most of all was so in love with God and His word.  She was 35 and married with kids, she was loved by her family, friends and all who knew her but on, her husband.  We don’t know what happened between them but this man had developed a bad habit of hitting her. Her friends had all begged, prayed, complained, reported, and fought, just to get him to stop beating her. You could notice the black eye, the swollen face and the bruised arms day in and out and she had constant headaches.  Their fights were incessant (fights?  Pardon me, I meant to say the beatings) , her friends were getting scared, there was little they could do, the man kept telling her if he beats her to death, there would be no proof as this is Nigeria and he would walk free. The poor wife reported to the police and she was advised to go and settle her domestic violence her way (I am yet to comprehend which way is ‘the way’ for a woman constantly beaten). This day, she did something “wrong” again and she got the beating of her life; he had beaten her so much for sending her own money to her mum without telling him, and when she tried to protect herself by pushing him off her, he got infuriated and hit her head on the wall. This time no black eye, no bruise to worry about, she just did not wake up.  And that was it, she was dead!!! And yes, her husband did not go to jail, he even has the custody of the kids.

http://topeolowu.com/2012/04/24/what-if-he-beats-me/ shares this perfectly well, in a case of domestic violence, you need to be in the abused shoes to feel what she is feeling, a hug, a listening ear and empathy would do better in convincing the abused to seek for help. But honestly sisters, marriage is till death do us part, not till he or she kills you. Even if you think the abuse would pass, stay away till he overcomes his bad temper or insecurity that you might not end up like Mrs. B.
It’s your life and in any kind of relationship, not necessarily marital, you need to draw the lines when abuse becomes a factor, there should be a boundary. If you don’t have the strength to draw those lines by yourself, seek for help, someone says when the going gets tough, seek collaboration. May your love never go sour, amen

Wednesday, 26 September 2012

Like People Like Priest

So Mr and Mrs Emmanuel have had ill lucks in recent times and have done all they could to salvage their dwindling economy, things were not just picking up. They’ve also been trying to conceive after they’ve had their first child 5 years ago but it’s not yet working out, they were both getting frustrated until a friend promised to help them out; there is this new pastor in town who does deliverance for people and they get delivered, they have to be at his church and schedule for their deliverance service. After series of ‘prayers’, their source of calamity was identified; it’s Felicia, their 5 year old daughter. She would be subjected to cleansing and deliverance. Cleansing includes being bathed at night by the prayer warriors or the senior pastor himself and deliverance involves 3 days off food and water, beating the evil spirit out of her with new brooms her mother would buy.

(Just thinking, if I were that poor girl, how would it be relating with my parents afterward? Children hardly forget stuffs)

And there is this man I know too, he runs a spiritual home in my dad’s neighbourhood (yes, it’s a spiritual home, and he RUNS it, I can’t call him a pastor, sorry). I call him Baba woli, Baba Woli has 3 wives that we know, I’m sure there are some older or at least one woman who would have married him in his prime and left. These women came for spiritual consultation and help, and gradually Baba ‘helped’ them to become his wives, I’m sure their lives have not remained the same because of the ‘help’ they received. This man has big customers, we only see their SUV’s we never saw their faces, you would only know their identity if you knew they are the car owners.

Still thinking, if one of those women was my sister or brother’s wife, how would I have handled it? You really don’t want to know o

Just some days ago, my sis and I were talking about the supernatural powers of God; God’s power is real and men are still conveyors and it is God’s desire that men show forth His power to deliver many that are oppressed. Remember ‘How God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and power, how he went around doing good and healing all who were under the power of the devil, because God was with Him’ and how Jesus himself said ‘ …the works that I do he will do also; and greater works than these he will do, because I go to My Father’.  We will do greater works if we have faith in him.

I understand the craving for the supernatural, our craving for miracles; even men did in the days of Jesus. But since the days of Moses, there have been magicians and sorcerers and there will always be. Most times the greedy get scammed; promises of very high jaw-dropping returns on low investments should make a business man think twice, so also it applies to the supernatural. There is a place of knowing your God for yourself first, then dwelling in His shadow and enjoying his bountiful supplies and protection.

Like people, like priests… I saw this phrase in Hosea and it got me thinking… if you know what God can do for you and will do for you, you won’t have to subject yourself to another man bathing you, or promises of cash if you bring your friend to church or having to subject your innocent kid to abuse. Deliverances don’t happen because of harms inflicted on your body, or how many times you slept at the church or with the ‘pastor’, deliverance comes when you know the truth; you shall know the truth and the truth will make you free.

Like people, like priests….His sheep hear his voice and the voice of another they will not hear, God’s people hear His voice and don’t get carried away. Even a dog knows his Master. Only ignorant people consult ignorant priests. God’s desire is that we have shepherds after his own heart who will lead with knowledge and understanding. 

Know anyone who is pressed for miracles? Share God’s word with the person and encourage him to read the bible for himself before consulting another spiritual home. ‘It is the glory of God to conceal a matter, the honour of kings to search it out’. There is no short cut even with God. Selah!

Wednesday, 29 August 2012


This isn't what I wanted to write about. I had thought of writing about setting definite boundaries in mentoring, coaching, and submission, recently I have read so much about people taking unexplainable decisions just because their 'mentor or pastor' said. I had my thoughts all figured out and I would just pour them down, I had decided on the image that would be suitable for the post and all that, only for yesterday to pass and I did not write eventually for some reasons. I was going to let it pass until a friend asked me about the post we talked about.
I have been busy at work, trying hard to meet deadlines, so you can imagine how justified I felt when I said 'I've been busy'. Then, I felt that little scratch; if only I had tried harder to meet my own deadlines. I could have not watched "The Benjamins" ( a soap opera I watched on a local channel) yesternight and used that time to write or stayed up later into the night to write ( that's another price I could have paid to get this done).

So many things we could do and achieve if only...
for some folks, they would achieve more if only they think. I would have loved to say dream, but some people have funny dreams, they are basically day-dreaming. When a man tells you he is waiting for a lottery or hoping to find some money dropped somewhere, then you don't want to tell him to dream big any longer as he is already having 'funny dreams', you tell him to think. My dad says mental work is hard work and yes, I agree! It's not child's play to sit down or pace up and down (like some people do ) and think through a matter. But once you think through don't you just feel like you won a jackpot? I feel like light just flooded my heart, so relieving!

Some others would achieve more if only they dare. I remember how many times I told myself I would publish a blog, then I started one and did not want to publish for any one to see, I told myself no one would read it as I was not a popular elite, so I deleted the blog later. I can't say this was when I overcame the fear but I did overcome, I wrote the first post on this blog that I had to create again and dared to publish it and it was read! people read my blog! me!!! wow!!! that made me stay and here you are, you are also reading because I dared to. One daring story I like is the story of the Tower of Babel, how could some guys think they could build a tower to reach heaven and get to God? that's daring!!! God, Great God? build a tower? to get to Him? that's really daring! but they dared to and the Great God himself had to confuse them to stop them but that was after He had acknowledged that the mission was possible. Check Genesis 11, you will marvel. We can achieve much more and live our dreams if only we dare but don't dare to stand in God's way though, He doesn't like opposition.

We would achieve much more if only we move. Remember Newton's 1st law of motion, 'every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it'.  No matter how lofty your dreams are, if you don't take actions they will remain as fantasies. Enviable are you when you do not just concieve an idea, you implement it. I am tired of sharing my many dreams and plans with people, I am getting up to do them.  'Sleep a little, doze a little, fold your hands and twiddle your thumbs; then, everything will be gone as though it had been taken by an armed robber'. Get up and do those things you had always wanted to do.

Let nothing stop you from doing those things that are important to you, don't be stopped from living out the dreams in your heart. And don't stop your self. Find out what would have been if only you would do something about it and do that that something. Life most times is like a chain reaction, you have some people whose lives are attached to you being able to do the seemingly 'undo-able'.

For me, if only I could create time and finish up my language class and the abandoned craft lessons but now I would create time for them, I won't allow it to pass.  I'm committed to making my dreams come true. I won't be chanced to come to this world again, so I better live out my heart desires now that I am opportuned.

I started writing this in a bus on my way home from work, I wouldn't wait for later any more; there is no time called later as there would always be ' a later time', a good time is now.  I was going to write on boundaries, I will still do that next week.  I have promised myself I would work and meet my own deadlines. So help me God

Thursday, 9 August 2012

When it's okay to fight

This morning, I sat behind my laptop with undefined feelings. I know I am not too excited, yet I am not sad, I am not angry but I am not in great moods, I can't place my hands on the kind of emotions running in my veins right now. I have shifted between crying and laughing in the last few minutes, my friend at work has made me laugh, made me shout and eventually left me to my own; he has not been able to get me back into my normal warm state.

I have a sister whose JD or bio should have been something like "thinking for a living". You can't be her friend and not know how to think, she thinks through everything, even her feelings. So with this drama going on in my life, I have decided to step into her shoes and think through these emotions. Why am I feeling this way?Is anything possibly wrong with me? What triggered these feelings? Am I just working myself up into frenzy? Questions and many more questions..... I concluded I am tired, kind of tired of my status quo, a bit restless too...something in me wants to break loose.

A man once told his first child "you are going to be subordinate to your younger brother but when you decide to be free you will break lose". That simply tells me its okay to fight! Nothing happens on this side of eternity until force is applied. I won't sit down and sing "it is well, it is well" (you know that song, right?) and let this feelings pass. I had felt like this in quick successions in recent times and yours sincerely was quick to sing that song, now it seems I settled myself into a state of inertia.

Now don't get me wrong, I am grateful for how far I have come, what do I have that I have not recieved? What could my arms have achieved without divine help? But there is a place for more, the mountain heights, a place where eagles fly; my friend calls it "there".

The beautiful butterfly itself wriggles out its cocoon, why should you not wriggle for freedom when restless? Doctors say pain is your friend, it simply tells you something is not right somewhere, so I won't play christainese with this feeling on my inside, I will ensure it spurs me to fight, good things don't come the way of men who wait for it but for men who seek good things or even fight for it.  

This good fight is relative, one might need to fight for her home, another might need to fight for his kids getting lost out there, another one's fight could be breaking free from corporate slavery like Jimi Tewe calls it, for me , it's a big fight to expression, getting out of a cocoon. This is when it’s okay to fight.

You identify where and what you have to fight or fight for, you may be like a butterfly, under the right conditions you could break out seemingly smoothly on your own or like the chick, you need a mother hen to brood over you or the right machinery, or better still a child, coming with so much drama, pains and aches but worth the hassles.

Fight when life throws dirt your way, fight when life wants to turn you into a prey (here, you are either a prey or a predator), fight for anything that is rightfully yours, fight for expression of your inner self, fight to be you, don’t be any man’s shadow but of God. Fight, just fight!

Tuesday, 17 July 2012

The man who raised me

I love to say Life is very beautiful, I also know that your positioning in life determines your perception of life. I think in every situation of my life, I have always been standing on the side where all I see is beauty or by choice I see only the beautiful, magnificient side of life. 
One man raised a happy child; my dad. With him, life had always been a journey one must take with happiness and enthusiasm.
With him, every day is an adventure to be approached with great strength fueled by optimism and so much laughter. With him, life could beat you black and blue, just consciously not give in to defeat.
Growing up in his arms are memories I would always hold dear to my heart; we would wake up from different beds in the morning and rush under his blanket with him and chuckle and giggle till mummy thinks it's time to go prepare for school. Meal times were also fun times since he would ensure you finish your meal and also partake of his fish or meat. I loved the days we would all snug ourselves in his peugeot 504 because daddy and mummy are going out and no one has chosen to stay behind in the house. We attended the best of the schools in the neighborhood not because it was convenient for him but because he wanted the best for us.
I can't say he never goofed, sometimes he did, I also can't say he is not exceptional because he is .
There are many reasons to celebrate you; for accepting our unique differences, for all the times you paid my many bills, for that one time you ever spanked me, for always feeding us dinner even when we were sleepy on your knees, for not sparing the hugs and accepting loads of it in returns. 
Thank you for always having my back even when things are messed up.
Thank you also for my first gold piece, I would never forget that
Thank you for those days you cried, it never made you less of a man.
Thank you for our little gossips and chit chat; you are a good friend. 
Thank you for making me read the dailies, I enjoy them now.
Thank you for the compulsory 9 pm news you made me watch, they are  no longer compulsory but essential
Thank you for ensuring excellence in our academics.
Thank you for being a thorough dad.
Today my dad, my hero is 67. May God keep you and all that is yours! We all love you dad

Sunday, 24 June 2012

No Pacifiers

Most babies have sturdy sucking impulse. Beyond feeding, sucking often has a soothing, calming effect for these cuties. A pacifier might soothe a fussy baby, offer temporary distraction or even help a baby fall asleep so most parents have pacifiers to offer.  But when the baby is beyond doubt hungry, you can be sure the pacifier would not pacify any longer.
I was watching a little boy recently, it was obvious the cries from him are basically of hunger pangs but his care-giver thought otherwise and offered him a pacifier, the boy sucked for what seemed like 2 minutes and gave a squeal; I guess the boy discovered he was being deceived.
My life coach wants to change his car, he had always wanted a particular brand that he kept talking about, for some reasons he has not been able to get the car, but I watch him reject every other brand, he insists that only his desired brand could satisfy his craving. He wants no alternatives!
That got me thinking; I began to think about the number of times I have settled for something that is not “it”, (where “it” = desired longing).  And I concluded, it was either the desire “to have” or “be” that I had, was not as strong as hunger pangs or never existed in the first place. It could also mean that every other thing life threw at me was good enough to pacify me (that doesn’t sound too smart though).
So this is what I do now, I analyze my desires; do I really want this? What can I do to get it or get there? Is it worth it? I also think about alternatives- the pacifiers and tag them distractions to getting the main deal, not minding the soothing effects, and then I go towards my goal.
I wish I could say I always run towards my goal, I do sometimes, then walk or even stroll but I have vowed never to stop. Running becomes easier when I think about the end, so I have also decided to keep the picture of the end close so I can go on motivated.
Ask yourself how many times life has handed you pacifiers and you took them instead of the main deal.  We all still come around to being hungry after a while of sucking on the pacifiers, don’t we?
Then, can we also apply this to our nation? When next our “leaders” offer us pacifiers to soothe our hunger for good governance and accountability, can we adamantly refuse it like a hungry baby would have resisted a pacifier?
The future starts with you sticking to your dreams and working on achieving it and the future is now!

Tuesday, 29 May 2012

A chip off the Old Block

"You must be Mr. Babs' daughter" , "oh my, why are aren't you a boy?" these statements were ones I often heard in the days when i would crop my hair and wear my boyish cheeky grin I got from my dad without any make-up and earringss. an accessory I "forget" to wear at will (my mom would always scold me when I do not wear earrings, so my escape line was to tell her I forgot it by the mirror), now that I with all effort dropped my tomboy ways and wear braids, makeup and all of that, I am still at first glance a chip off that old block; Mr Babs!
My people would say that no matter how broke a prince is, his royalty is something he would always have, a prince would always be a prince! No matter how well you primp or preen, clad in suit or live in rags, your inherent personality would never leave you except you disconnect consciously, it's your inheritance and your heritage.  This is what happens when a child whose dad had been long dead before the child came to awareness would display a character or make a decision and men who knew the late dad would acknowledge that the child just acted like the late dad.

Bible says God created people in his own very image, He patterned us after himself. What happened to us that men no longer say that we act just like Him? We would not have taken up all that redemption has to offer if all we do is hide under the pavilion of His name away fom the fiery darts of the devil or become a little bit more spiritual and pray in tongues. God chose to reconcile man to Himself that man may be restored to the former state, the split image of God, it pleases God that men be like Him.

This is so amazing because for man to come back to that state all he needs is to accept the reality of God's word. The Bible teaches that as many as recieved Christ, He gave them power to become the sons of God, the decision to embrace the truth that Christ alone reconciles man to God automatically generates power for the state of son-ship, all that is needed is to activate the power.

I love the letter Paul wrote to the Colossians, he foreknew that we might have issues accepting the simplicity of God's love, so he said "don't let anyone lead you astray with empty philosophy and high sounding nonsense that come from the basic principles of this world, for it pleases God that all the fullness of the deity dwell in Christ Jesus and you are complete through your union in Christ Jesus"

Union is the act of making or becoming a single unit and here is Paul saying we are united with Christ. Jesus himself said "I and my father are one"; we are in him, complete and filled of his nature, He said "I gave them the same glory you gave me so that they may be one just as you and I are one: I in them and you in me, so that they may be completely one...

All things have been made available, we are already pronounced blessed of all spiritual blessings, all we need is to take our place and exercise dominion. When affairs of life seem running out of hands, stand up and declare I am just like my father God, I have dominion over affairs, if Christ would walk on water then I can ride on storms, declare what you would love to have because your words carry life like His does and don't even waver or falter about your declarations until they materialize.

Stay in the place of prayer; whosoever woud have whatsoever he declares when he prays. That's why I love to pray, for me, it's staying in God's presence and declaring His words to Him and getting His presence to rub off on me and when I come out of that place, I just roar like the Lion that I am...so much confident (wink!)

Let's stay more in the presence of the Lion King that we might not forget our ways as lions, stay longer in the presence of Glory that we might reflect just that. Let's dine and feast with the King that we might not forget his words and reckon that we are princes , we carry so much authority, so much honour, so much power that we might do greater works....let's rise, beat our chests and roar that the jungle may know that the King reigns but not alone with his princes alike with him.

Thursday, 10 May 2012

Let's deal with it

Yesterday, I read on omojuwa.com the story of a little girl who was repeatedly raped by her uncle until she got pregnant and I shivered. I did not shiver because I haven't heard or read about occurrences like this but because every time I see a movie and there is a scene on rape or abuse, I pick up the remote and forward the movie; if it's a book, I jump the pages; if it's on radio, I walk away or change the station. God bless me if it's a conversation, I either walk away or ask that we discuss something more pleasing to the ears; I always wished that these gory stories were untrue, but yesterday, I read that story, I mean, I read everything and re-read it again and I have done that this morning- I do not want to wish away these tales any longer! Let’s just deal with it.

I know a little girl who grew up amidst her cousins and uncles, when she was just around 5 years old, she had a particular male cousin who would finger her to satisfy his sexual orgies and he would do this over and over. He was not threatening to kill her if she tells her parent, he was not sweet-talking her into doing this, as far as the little girl knew, the cousin was just playing with her! She was lucky; 'the devil's play' did not grow beyond that till she left that environment. She could not tell her parents anything because as far as she was concerned, there was nothing to tell.

Back to that story I read, the 13 year old girl kept it to herself because her uncle threatened to kill her, and she also stated that “mama would never believe me and papa is never around to listen" and that shattered my heart. Why would mama not believe her own sweet girl in cases like this? Where is the mama-child connection in the first place? I thought mamas are guidance angels and children could always talk to them.

Did the girl ever have any 'sex-talk' with her parents? Growing up our parents (not only mine) had funny weird names for our sexual organs. Calling the "thing" its real name was to them vulgar and even you dare not try it.

I strongly believe that cases of uncles, teachers, house-helps and anyone molesting our little ones in silence would not be this rampant if parents would take the bull by the horns and educate their kids about sex.

Call the genitals by name; a penis is a P-E-N-I-S (sorry, but it's true). Tell them the correct names for their body parts, and use them every time. Don't use nicknames to refer to her genitals. This teaches her that the body is something to be hidden or masked. Correct terminology helps to understand and embrace the body without reservations or shame.

Teach them privacy- let her know her vagina is hers and it is private; no uncle, cousin, friend or teacher should touch her there. Tell him and her to say "no" to anyone who tries to touch his or her private parts against their wishes and get back to mummy and daddy about it.

Tell your girl you will always be there for her, start from her days as a toddler, let her build a stong support in you (including daddies too) . Let these angels know they can talk to you about any thing (from who took her toys to who pulled her hair and to who shares her seat in class) and that you won’t shove them away or disregard them. When they are grown, they would not entertain doubts about talking to you about any thing. 

As awkward as sex-talk might seem, remember each time you successfully tackle a sensitive topic, it gets easier the next time. Get yourself prepared, if your child is not asking, don't silently thank your stars that she is not asking, brace up your self and initiate the talk.
And please, do not wait till she is 13; by then, God forbid though, she might not need it any longer!!

Posted on by Bimbola Segun-Amao | 3 comments

Monday, 30 April 2012

Amiable Jonathan

Now before you judge me, let me be quick to say that I am not a supporter of His Excellency, Goodluck Ebele Jonathan not because I do not come from Otueke and its environs but because I thought of him as a weakling and still do, although now I have more adjectives for him including wicked and coward.

Looking back into our last 10 months as a nation, we have been thrown from one state of rumpus to another and all can be traced back to the leaders that we chose in 2011. I would have loved to say that the present leadership of this nation was imposed on us but truth be told, these unworthy leaders (or sorry, rulers- as they are not leading anyone)   made their way up to the presidency because we did not set our priorities right as a nation; we voted based on sentiments.

I did not vote for the ruling party because they had no ideals that were sellable to me.  It was heart breaking for me to discover at the polling booth then that majority of the older generation came out en-masse to vote for Goodluck because no one from his side of the country had never been president, and some thought Jonathan is amiable. Such sentiments!

I have been thinking so much about this amiable president that we have, he has failed the country in many ways but he has not let down the people who think he is amiable. He has proven that he is readily agreeable; Goodluck Jonathan has not for once stood up against the enemies of our country or the citizens. He has been cordial with the menace in this society, from Boko Haram bombings to unending looting of the national treasury. It’s not his fault; he is simply amiable.

The North is on fire, and our amiable President looks away, when he says anything about the bombings, you almost can read his speech along side with him “We commiserate with the family of the bereaved….” And that line that I detest because it’s not true “we are on top of the situation”

There was no 51st anniversary of independence because even GEJ was afraid of Boko Haram, Corp members have been denied of the glamour of their Passing out Parade because we all do not know where and when the next bombs would go off, yet Jonathan is on top of the situation. Is our amiable Jonathan planting the bombs himself because I do not know why he claims to be on top of the situation when these bombings are escalating?

I do not agree that GEJ is amiable; ask Azazi, the President is busy fighting him while Boko Haram has a field day. I do not think GEJ is amiable; ask Timipre Sylva, he was ousted out of the looting business because he had issues with our amiable President. Jonathan finds his way around things he wants, like waiting around for the exit or demise of his boss and befriending those who would install him or chasing away protesters at any point.

My dad voted Goodluck in 2011 because he thinks he is good natured; the last time I asked him to appraise the good natured president, the old man sighed and said “may God help us in this nation, this man is something else”.

These days, I miss the days of OBJ, he had his flaws and many shortcomings and he was obviously not amiable but we were not being bombed, and I also thought if MGB had won the elections, may be we would never had heard of Boko Haram not because he is from the north but because he does not befriend the cabals and would not have danced to their tunes.

2015  (if we would correct this misatke of a presidency) looks like a decade away from now because our losses would not be quantifiable by then if our amiable president keeps looking the other way as his friends; the cabals, loot and bomb the nation.

Thursday, 12 April 2012

The Mirror and the pearl

Frantically through my teens I searched, and search did I. I was looking for me (and now do not laugh at me but that was what I was looking for). It was that moment of my life when I frankly needed a definition to my existence and for some reasons I had a long search, I searched into my twenties and what a search it was.
I just could not come to understand for what reason was my stay on this side of eternity, so I wanted to be like someone else. It could have been easier if that 'someone else' was just one person; but no man or woman was a totality of the picture conceived in my heart, so there was no man I could echo or duplicate even if I wanted to, because my ideals were a bit of who A represents, a little of B, a fragment of K, and a chunk of X and it was more frustrating than interesting.
I can't indubitably say "click!|" this was the time I hit it, it was more of a journey and I am here now. What I found was a mirror and it just reflected a pearl; me!
The mirror refused me to duplicate someone else but precisely evinced who I am and the totality of what I can be if I choose to work at it, it presented to me the summation of all that my heart desires.
The mirror got me to see clearer, I got to know I am to live in dominion, reign in my world, live like a king whose personality I share and get transformed into the beauty of an image that minds cannot comprehend.
That mirror is my bible, it makes me see myself in the right perspective; a treasure. I am not yet accomplished; everyday as I search through its pages, I discover this pearl gets more refined. 
I am unique and work is always in progress on this gem; my manufacturer told me so!
Posted on by Bimbola Segun-Amao | 1 comment