Saturday, September 27, 2008


My dear people, I was away for a while for reasons beyond my control. I was working hard :-). Thank God for the public holidays. It was very timely.

I really missed reading your blogs. My sincere appreciation goes to all those who checked up on me. Thanks for your love. You all are wonderful.
I had something I wanted to post but I have to deviate and save the post for later. Let me tell you why.

I went to visit a friend and I stumbled on an article. You know that section in magazines where they put comments from the readers? Ok...In one of the reader’s comments, this lady was talking about how someone saw her and her son and said, “this boy has come of age. Won’t you get a younger sister for him?” The woman became SAD and wept the whole night. It had taken her 5 years to have this child and due to infertility problems she could not have another. The comment from the friend (or foe?) reminded her of her pains and inability.

This may have been a remark said for the sake of conversation, maybe humorously, but it had a negative impact. I have been a culprit of these kind of not-intended-to-harm comments but I guess I never knew how bad the impact could be. I have learnt now. I’d rather say “God bless you” if I have no positive words to say.

I’d liken this friend to people I call timekeepers. These ones say, “You’ve finished school over 4 years now. When are we going to chop your first month’s salary?” Not knowing that Mr. Man is struggling with rejection from many interviewers. Or, “You are over 25 years old. When are we coming to chop your wedding rice?” Putting Mademoiselle under undue pressure. What of “You’ve been working for 5 years and you have not built house or bought tear rubber?” without considering that Mr. Man is training all his younger ones in school. Let me not go through all the examples. Timekeepers just sit down and tell you what time is right by their standards. It is more painful when the timekeepers are your loved ones.

Whose standards should you follow? Who made time? Let the timekeepers keep timing until they are tired. It may just be that their comment is something you are believing God for. Rest assured that it will surely come to pass. You must not forget this one thing: A day is like a thousand years to the Lord, and a thousand years is like a day. The Lord isn’t really being slow about his promise towards you, as some people think [2 Peter 3:8-9a].

Remain blessed.
Please join me to welcome a great lady to Blogville. Fanwest is a lady whose words helped shape my life and who always loved me as a friend inspite of myself. Fanwest, welcome oh!

Thursday, September 18, 2008

The Buildings


For so long
I have wondered
Why I am still where I was

I blamed it on You
Not know the truth
That all I wanted
Was right before me;

But I was limited
By how far I could see
All I thought I deserve
And all they said I could be;

But you’ve opened my eyes
That I may know
Everything is out there
Waiting for me.

The Inspiration

Baby and I were bored with the adult party going on. Imagine that staff and spouses were having a social event yet they were still talking office talk. How boring! Baby was a colleague’s daughter that couldn’t keep her eyes off my sexy red gown. We left the room where the dinner was going on to have our own fun.

Baby at the age of 3 was good at using the camera. She wanted to snap everything in sight. As we got to the balcony that overlooked the beautiful city of Abuja, she decided to take some pictures.

“I want to snap the 2 houses,” she demanded.
“There are more than 2 houses here,” I told her. I was seeing the beautiful scenery, the night glittering with bright light at different corners, and nature in an alluring rhythm.
“There are only 2 houses,” she insisted.

I realized that we were looking at the same place but from different points of view. Her view was obstructed by some parts of the balcony. I, being much taller, could see the view in full.

“Can I carry you up to show you the other house?”
“No, I want my two houses…” and click click, she continued taking photographs of the two houses.

Baby was telling me something with her response. I wondered.

Are we usually content with our comfort zone to the extent that we do not want to make a move to see what is really out there?
Are we limited by our circumstances, situations, or what people say? I remember one lecturer that said A is for God, B is for him and C is for the intelligent students. Everyone was okay with it. Until a quiet friend of mine came and told him A is for human beings.

There are a lot of blessings out there for you to take hold of. Do not let short-sightedness, fear, past, what people say determine what blessings you deserve. God has them unlimited for you.

You have been blessed as far as your eyes can see. Think, dream and see big. How far are you seeing today? Do not limit yourself or limit God. And as you expand your vision today, know that all you see will be yours.

Have a blessed day.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Blogville Award+Joy+Happiness

Guess what!?!
I received a blogville award from Aloted. Certified Honest Blogger?!? I'm so lost for words.

If I’ve been dishonest, this has humbled me and made me repentant.
Now I am filled with cheerful...ooops!
Please what is the difference between joy, happiness and cheerfulness? A friend and I have talked about it for over 1 hour and we still did not come to a conclusion. Dictionary calls them synonyms. Please help. Thank you.

My EROLyrics : Thank You

You’ve touched my heart
In so many ways:
With words
With consistency
With your virtual presence
And by speaking my love language to me;

Just to let you know
I appreciate your gift
That teaches me more about God
That He is Love and He is in us…

Thank You.

EROLyrics To Aloted, to Blogville...

To all My Blogs Readers, I want to say thank you. You have been my motivation.

I pass on the award to the following…
Fantasy Queen
Red Sapphire

I find your blog special in content… Oluwadee, you can have the award a million times over.

The Rules:
1. When you receive the prize you must write a post showing it, together with the name of who has given it to you, and link them back.
2. Choose a minimum of 7 blogs (or even more) that you find brilliant in their content or design.
3. Show their names and links and leave them a comment informing that they have received an award
4. Show a picture of those who awarded you and those you give the prize (optional).
5. And then pass it on!

All the best…

Saturday, September 13, 2008

The Race

I want to say a big Thank You to Blogville. You all were so wonderful during my Sept. 11 memorial. Just to let you know that you made it a joyful memorial. I felt love from above and from almost every part of the world. I will print out your comments and share with my family members. God bless you.


The Race
I was on my way to see Guy. I had been missing him all the while his girlfriend was around. Now she had gone, I had to seize the opportunity to be with him. I had plans on my mind. I felt excited but deep down, I felt a pang of sadness. Because I was second best. I had settled for it because it seemed I had no other choice. What I really wanted was not just to be a “first best”, but a “one-and-only”.

I took a walk down to Guy’s house to kill two birds with one stone. First to exercise and secondly to think. I was enjoying my walk and thoughts when I got distracted by a group of children playing. One that particularly caught my attention was a little boy, dirty looking, thick catarrh running down his nose, no pant, spots and rashes all over his body, and with a bent leg. I love children but I could not see myself touching this child. Let’s call him Sboy. He was persistently flogging another boy, probably an elder brother. Let’s call this other one Bboy.

Then one of the children suggested they have a race to get to the end of the road and back. Trust children, anything to run around and disturb. They all bought into the idea. On your marks…set…go…and all the children ran off with the speed of light. Except Sboy (who could not run) and Bboy. This is where I had to stop walking and watch.

Sboy reached out to Bboy and asked to be carried for the race. Bboy reached out and took the cane from Sboy’s hand. In my mind I said, “This is time to flog Sboy back”. Bboy dropped the cane aside, carried heavy Sboy on his back, and joined in the race. Of course, the other children were on their way back while Bboy and Sboy had only gone halfway. Together, Bboy and Sboy completed the race. We know who took last.

To me, Bboy was the winner of the race. That was love, forgiveness, grace and help he had ministered. Three tear drops slid down cheek.

As I turned to continue my walk, it dawned on me that Bboy just enlightened me on the relationship between God/Jesus and man. Like Sboy, we are not perfect and we commit sins, sometimes without a conscience. Yet God forgives us and completely forgets what we did. Despite our flaws and imperfections, He loves us and accepts us for who we are. When we reach out to him, He receives us with open arms. And then, it does not matter when others get the things/to the place we desire. As long as we are with God, we will get there, victorious, using less effort, at His appointed time, and finish well. He will bring us to an expected end.

See me fighting for first and second best, when there was someone who loved me more than anything or anyone. By the time I had reached Guy’s house, I had a different thought on my mind. Enough of second best.

“Guy, I just came to tell you I’m going back home. There is someone there waiting for me. I just realized He loves me so much.”
Guy thought I was being funny. But after I explained everything to him (as logically as possible), he understood. He let me go, knowing he did not love me as much as God loved me.

That happened years ago. Today, I am a “One and Only”.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

In Memorial

Of September 11. As America is in memorial today, so am I. Only that mine is 15 years. 15 years of losing a man I took for granted. Every time I have to reflect on the incident that took place today 15 years ago, I just weep. There has been no maturity about it. I think of the manner, the untimeliness, the words I wished I said, and the things I should never have said or done. Now I know it is never too early to appreciate a loved one or to say, “I love you”.

I recall this day 15 years ago. Before the crack of dawn, the deed was done. Leaving Daddy, who was so full of life, as nothing but a lifeless corpse. In just a matter of seconds. I wondered if morning will ever come.

The Incident:
I remember vividly well that night. It all started by 1a.m. We were woken up by the shrill cry of neighbours who were being attacked by armed robbers. Dad, who never minds his business, picked up a whistle and started whistling for help. The whole area where we lived was at alert. I guess everyone bolted their doors and started hiding.

I went to Mom’s room where she was with Boy. He was awake and needed a change of diapers so Mommy asked me to do it. Then I heard voices under the window of her room. Someone asked in a deep voice, “Wey dat man wey dey disturb our operation?”. I panicked. “Mommy, they are around the house,” I said. She quickly ran to Daddy and told him. Daddy said we should all enter one room and hide while he deals with them.

We went to the biggest room in the house. Dota 1, Dota 2 and Dota 4 hid above the closet so that if the men want to rape, there will be few to rape. Me and Boy hid under the sheets of one of the beds in the room cos they assumed I was the only one who could keep him quiet. Dota 5 and Dota 6 were so small that you could barely find them hidden under the bedsheets of the other bed. Mom paced the room as Dad carried his cutlass to fight the men.

We heard the shattering of the back door and in no time, they were up to Daddy’s room. I heard nothing else.
After 10 minutes of the longest waiting period of our lives, we heard the men say “Omo, let’s go!”. We waited for Daddy to come and call us out. 5 mins passed. He had not come. Dota 4 said she heard something like a gun shot. We told her to shut up, that she only thinks of bad things. Mom told Dota 2 (the tomboy) to go and ask Daddy if we could come out.

I have never heard Dota 2 scream like she did that night. It was shrill and laden with emotions. Then she ran back to the room to call Mommy. She could not talk. Her lips were moving but no word could come out. She was panicking frantically. After Mommy held her, he managed to voice out, “Daddy has been shot”.

We all ran to his room.
The door of his room had traces of blood and human flesh splattered on it. I was still carrying Boy. We were totally speechless when we all walked into the room. Dad was lying on the floor, on his student’s scripts, in a pool of his own blood. He was trying to utter something which could not be heard. He tried to reach out to us but we were too scared to touch him. His face held deep pain and anguish. His left arm was scattered by the gun shot of a double barrel. That is how we all stood crying “Don’t go, Daddy. Don’t go.” We were confused and helpless.

Till date, we never knew what happened between him and the armed men.

Those were the days of no gsm, nitel lines were for rich people. Dota 1 and 2 went to call for help that came 20 minutes later. We watched as Daddy was tied in a bedsheet and taken to a car. Mother, Dota 1 and 2 went with them. Our neighbour (not the one being attacked) came and took the rest of us out of the house. One of the kids prayed for us that night.

Mommy, Dota 1 and 2 came home without Daddy. Then it dawned on us that we were fatherless and mother was a widow. It happened to real people not in Nigerian movie.

Traditions and Customs:
We were 6 girls and 1 boy. Boy was only 1 yr 9 months old when the incident happened. Dota 1 was 17. Tradition and Customs (T&C) said the girls should not go to school but go and live with Dad’s people as housegirls. T&C was to save Dad’s money to train Boy. T&C took all that belonged to dad leaving us homeless. Luckily, mom got a job in the university and we were given a small house to move into. T&C dragged mom to court several times within her one year of mourning. Salt inside pepper. T&C made us hate where we come from. T&C made us shave our hairs for one year and insisted that we should not wear wig.

Looking back:
Then, I was completely angry with God. I did not know Him. I simply turned my back on Him and said “Where was God when this happened?” But today when I look back, I see that He is the ever-present God. He is a Provider. Imagine that Mommy’s breast began to flow with milk so Boy had nutritious sustenance while we struggled on how to eat. He provided one day at a time. He could cause people to miraculously give when we desperately needed it (my 1st school fees after was paid by donations from my classmates). Imagine that I had a scholarship in university because someone liked my native name. Imagine a lecturer telling me not to pay for any of his textbooks or handouts. I had them free. Talking about what God has done during those 15 years, is a novel of its own. God, I thank You.

God does not take life – He gives life. This took me 15 years afterwards to understand.

I know how much progress there’s been in the lives of Mother, Dota 1 to 6, and Boy. And I know the best is yet to come. As I reflect on the incident that took place today 15 years ago, I just weep, yet comforted by the knowledge that there is a Father who will never leave me.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

The Pedicure

Before I start, please permit me to digress, but not too much.

Sometime last week I saw someone. He was waving at me frantically. I knew the face was familiar but I could not trace it. We spoke. He sounded well-educated (if there is anything like that). Did we go to the same school? I wondered. I appraised him. He was dressed neatly, looking smart like a guy heading for a fruitful date. I did not say anything concerning the fact that I could not place his face. Then after the brief discussion he said, “Okay, good night Aunty Rita!” There are only few places where I am addressed as Aunty Rita. Suddenly I could place his face. He was a security guard in our office. I only saw him in the uniforms opening and closing the gate. I said to myself, “I should never judge people by what they do or the clothes they wear.”


He sat on the chair while I washed his feet. With gentle massages and selected foot treatments, I brought his dirty feet to a state he could never imagine. But the thirty minutes of soaking, scrubbing, massaging, nail trimming and washing his feet was a moment of reflection.

He was once a baby I tended. I washed his diapers, made sure he ate at the right time, sucked his catarrh (ewww!!), and carried him on my back while I went about doing my household chores. My back or my bosom was his first place of sleep before he would later be laid in a cot. Now he’s a grown boy, playing football in the dirtiest places, and mature enough to make decisions for himself and the family.

I was seated at a lower position in order to get the pedicure done. It looked like a Master and Servant scenerio. But I was not washing his feet because he had ordered me to do so. I was not washing his feet because he could pay me to do it. I was not washing his feet because I owed him a favor. I was not washing his feet because he could not do it himself.

I did it because I love him (and of course, the feet were dirty!)

I was not less of a person by washing his feet. I was sure of whom I was and the act could not take it from me. As I slowly wiped his feet, I had to recall when Jesus washed the feet of his disciples. He was still the Son of God yet he humbled himself. He was secure in who He was.

“How do you like your feet now?” I asked him when I was done with the pedicure.
“Are these my feet?” he asked humorously.
I was okay with the joy and appreciation in his eyes. That made my evening.

As he walked away, tiptoeing like he did not want his feet to touch the ground, my spirit concurred with my thoughts, “I am not great because of what I do. I am great because of who I am: Your child made in Your image, in whom You reside.”

And I echo this to you, “You are not great because of what you do (or do not do). You are great because of who you are: A child of God made in His image, in whom He resides.”

The story of Jesus washing His disciples’ feet is based on John 13:1-17.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

The Walks

Walk 1

That walk that night
Towards the ditch of destruction
I carried the heaviness of heartbreak
And the burdens of physical pain
Which time could not abate;

I wondered what was the point to life
If heartbreak comes by being nice
And physical pains from doing nothing wrong;
I cared nothing of life and so much less of You
I felt the only relief to pain
Was greater pain that would lead to death
But lest it be called suicide
It had to be like I slipped into the ditch;

Just before I took the step
That would cause a fall and lead to my end
The light of a car shone from nowhere
'Cos eyes were fixed on me, I had to walk away;

I could have sworn I heard You say something like
“My Child, I’m not yet done with you!”

Walk 2

That walk called my life
Headed for eternal destruction
Though I knew where I was going
There was nothing I could do;
But from nowhere, Your light shone
Through Your Word and Your Love;
I could have sworn I heard You say something like
“My child, the cure to pain is My Love
And there are so many great things
You are yet to achieve!”


Today, I felt like jamming a police van. The driver did one very wrong driving and came in front of me. I had to hold myself because I have had enough car-jamming for my lifetime…

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

My Heart

My Heart
Has tasted of Your Love,
Of Your Mercy and Goodness,
Even if I can only recall few moments;

Those broken pieces of My Heart
Then scattered 3600 kilometers apart
You found every bit of it
And with Your Deft Touch, made it one piece;

My once hard, diamond heart
Changed its state by Your Fire –
A Consuming Love that softened every region
Making it malleable for Your Transformation;

Your Caress on My Heart
Roused a harmonious rhythm,
Your Touch on My Heart
Brought about complete healing;

My Heart
Has tasted of Your Love,
Of Your Grace and Faithfulness
And this My Heart knows fully well:

Now I can Love like You.

Simple Truth:
We cannot change a leopard’s spots,
But God can change its heart.
- Rebecca Barlow Jordan, Daily in Your Image, page 283.