Work in Progress

As much as I would have loved you to think that I’m a saint and I have everything in place, we all know it’s not true so there is no need for the façade, every man especially me, is work in progress because God isn’t through with me yet. So from the construction site, I bring you a brief report. It’s not a full one though as the contractor is still busy on site but I tell you, he’s done with this side of the project and it’s a good job I say. He’s best at what he does and here is the report.

Have you ever being in a state of envy? I’m not saying you’re being envied or you ‘think’ someone known or unknown is being envious of you, I’m talking about you being the culprit, you are the one envying, the one who wishes to be the other girl, well, I slipped into that and didn’t even stay there alone, took it a step further, I didn’t want to see her!

I grew up being carefree; if I didn’t have it or couldn’t have it, then it wasn’t mine, I wouldn’t lose sleep or blink an eye over anything that wasn’t mine, not even the most gorgeous of dresses or fanciful shoes, I only admired and moved on, my mum saw to that initially and God ensured I stayed that way. I just didn’t care about any other person’s materials or things I couldn’t afford. I had my eyes only on mine, if I was getting anything it was because I needed it and could afford it not because a friend had it. I wouldn’t just be given to vanities. Plus, I loved people and would be happy for anyone who is doing fine, happy with anyone who had or did not have, I could love anything or anybody, I was a happy cheer leader.

Then last year, I began to bear a grudge. I didn’t like her and I could justify my feelings, I told myself how selfish and inconsiderate and cold she was, how she was always looking out for herself alone and how she could never be my friend and bla bla bla plus she had this beautiful ‘enviable’ platonic relationship that I in my ‘sainthood’ thought she didn’t deserve. I was gradually beginning to resent her.

I didn’t know it was a big deal until her name could make my heart beat faster, and then I knew there was a big problem; I had slipped out of love into being something else.  My eyes were off track and counting another person’s blessings, who made me judge and friendship allocator, hey? I had allowed the wrong seed to grow. I needed to get it uprooted and get right with God. It was no longer about her, not about anything she could have been or not be but about God and I. Did God not say to earnestly desire and pursue love, for God is love?

I had to work out my salvation with fear and trembling, telling myself how much of God’s love is in my heart to share. Yes, I took it further by being genuinely interested in things that concerned her and confessing God’s word concerning her.  After a while, stuffs that triggered the resentments no longer had meaning to me, my eyes were again on the beautiful things in God’s plan for my life and the beautiful relationships he has brought along my path and my countless blessings. I think we get jealous when we count other’s peoples blessings rather than ours, well, my eyes are back on mine!

I’m happy this is done with, no resentments, no envy, no jealousy! I’m God’s work in progress and I am fully assured He isn’t quitting site yet until I attain full maturity and walk into his glory.  

Sista oh sista!!!

Sista oh  sista!!!

I get attracted to fine girls easily; now don’t blame me, who won’t? When I see or I’m chanced to meet someone who has taken the pains to groom her body well, I get to look at her and pass a smile, and in my head and heart, I give her a big thumb up, especially if everything is well coordinated, the colours not running wild or the make-up amuck. Well I am still working on being chic, so I keep looking at those who’ve mastered the arts.

                But beyond the arts, sisters, we need to up our game! In recent times, I have met ladies who were all beauty alone, sustaining a healthy conversation was almost impossible. When discussions moved beyond make-up and fashion, you would be shocked at their level of ignorance. Some were not even the fashionistas, they just didn’t know any other thing beyond their tiny world. Alright, I know for the very spiritual sistas-sista, you are quick to say those stuffs are not part of your bible or of your academics, but I tell you Jesus knew the ways of the world around him; he just didn’t walk in them.

Maybe it’s me, but ignorance gets at me. I was brought up to read the newspapers daily and to at least watch the popular NTA news, I am not saying you should read the papers daily though but stay informed. Some little things matter, I have met some fine girl who didn’t know who Tambuwal was, another once asked if Chimamanda was a movie star, then one very spiritual sis was discovered to not have ever heard of Farouk Lawan. Hmmn! How would you ever pass an interview please?

The uncurious woman is boring and the easiest to forget, I tell you. Don’t tell me it’s no big deal because it is. You see, the most attractive part of any woman (and man too) is the brain. So work more on that, groom your body but groom your brain and spirit more. Beyond the Louis Vuitton, Christian Louboutin labels, your level of reasoning and intellect would put you ahead of others and bring you respect and cause you to sit in high places especially when God is on your team too.

 

And please sisters, don’t you ever think marriage is the ultimate prize for you as a woman, living out your dreams and purpose is. Being a Mrs. won’t automatically bring you better fortunes you would still have to work at it. So why not start now? More so, if your hubby would sit at the gate with elders, it’s pertinent that you know what the elders discuss. Else, you will either end up with a guy who like you, has no business at the elders council or with one whom you will accessorize his house and will be comfortable parading your beauty to his friends and colleagues. I don’t know which could be more frustrating.

Read books and read articles more, I discovered that articles are easier to read than books, they are always short and precise. Make google your friend; it has taught me countless things.

                Sista-oh-sista, don’t just be spiritual. Know a little of everything, and live a happily interesting life. Christianity is not synonymous to mediocrity or a boring life.

 

Image credits: Eightworks Photgraphy 070-3726-7713

Model: Uduak Umanah

 

Raise Your Glass

I like that I was born in January, and the 4^th day of the year at that! It gives me the privilege to do all the stock-taking, goal setting, vision-writing all at once by the start of the new year and most times I wait till the 3^rd or 4^th as that starts another countdown for me. So today, I’ll be taking stock of my life, some pruning here and there, think about adding more virtues, write goals, reflect on days past and give thanks.

This one is a bit different though as I step into another decade, I see this as a landmark. Gradually, I’m getting old and moving into my mid-year phase, God be praised. The way time rolls beat me, when was it that I was 18, just some few years ago now. I can’t forget the excitement as I went to register for my voters’ card, if I could get drivers’ license without driving knowledge I could have done that that very year, I felt like an adult, a very young one but here I am now, everything reminds me I’m no longer that young especially these market women; those days they call out and say ‘sisi mi, e ba mi ra eja o’ but in the last few months all I hear from them is ‘mama aburo, e ba mi ra eja o’. Most times I chuckle when I hear that, Bimbola is suddenly mama aburo and mind you, I take no ‘aburo’ to the market. It’s just plainly obvious I’m no longer ‘sisi mi’

I’ve come this far by God alone, what do I have that I have not received? Nothing! God has kept watch over me and all that is mine, I’m so grateful.  I really wish I could throw a party and dance wild. You know that kind of dancing like it’s a Sony Sound System Advert? Hands in the air swinging wide, head thrown back and forth, heart throbbing hard, loud barring music with a glass of whatever in hand…but erm… I get cold feet when I think about it; I should honestly try this, get me some good lyrics and just dance out my heart. I should, God deserves more praise.

It’s been quite a journey but I’m here today, happy and grateful. I’ve had my shares of failures, I count them as events, no big deal, every day is a new chance. I’ve had my shares of broken trust but ain’t we all humans? I’m sure I would have failed some people too. I’m blessed with an awesome family and friends that have so much love and hugs to throw around…I’m grateful.

 I found God and love him better each day, one good reason to be grateful.  I’m gradually settling down in a niche that suits me ( a bit late, right), yet I’m grateful.

So for all that has been; my happy moments, trying periods, secret pains, loving relationships, God’s blessings and faithfulness, I want to take make a toast, yes, I'm taking that honour by myself for myself. So raise your glass while I make the toast; a toast to a better life, a life of love that overflows to all around me, a life that speaks volume of God’s original intention for man, a toast to a beautiful home and another journey of a better decade.

CHEERS!

I love this image a lot. I put it up when I get really happy. I couldn't resist putting it up 

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.

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!

 

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

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!