Inspired, LDR

Zoo trip (pictures at the end)

So last week the family and I went to the zoo. I was really excited because my zoo trips are quite few and happened a long time ago.

I was also really excited because we were taking my sister’s 3 year old and her 11 month old twins and I was looking forward to having them enjoy the out doors and the general experience. 

Obviously the twins are least likely to have as much fun as the 3 year old. 

But surprisingly they had a great time enjoying the fresh air and the activity around them. So that was amazing.

Unfortunately the zoo was not as impressive as I had hoped. I saw snakes I think pythons. I saw horses (rolls eyes), I saw goats ( common! These roam the streets here) I saw two not very healthy looking camels even though I was told they were really young in reference to their size. 

I saw buffalos, I saw various species of monkeys and two baboons. 

I saw two turtles or is it tortoise . What’s the difference? Anyway they were really big. A male and a female. I can’t remember if one was 200 or 80 years old.  I found out the males grow way bigger than the females. And some really curious Nigerians decided to sit and climb on the bigger of the turtles just because they were told about how strong it’s shell is. And I am like really? 

Don’t get me wrong I was intrigued but come on!!! Riding a turtles back? Seriously! 

I saw crocodiles and their baby. Or was it an alligator? Well there where also rabbits, ostrich, peacock,guinea fowl etc.

Nothing wild lifey though or ferocious. So a little disappointed again.

Anyway all in all it was a good day and I had fun.

Here are some pictures

Zuma rock.

Crocodile/alligator not sure 😁

There are more interesting pictures but my network won’t let me upload them lol.

So tell me about your local zoo.

What has been the most interesting and shocking thing about it. 

😁 I look forward to your reply.

hurt, LDR, love

Golden Tears

My tears are gold

Hot and molten.

They are stirred behind 

tired eyes and feathered lashes

By the tumultuous feelings of 

Desperation,love,hurt,emptiness

This unending dryness 

Caused by the drought within.

How can this desert go on forever.

Will my golden tears cool into bars? 

Will I mold daggers from them?

Will I ever find my oasis,

My mock ocean of relief ?

And will the next tide bring the storm!

 Or will it be calmed?

Guest posts, Guests posts

Guest Post. THE DEMON-POSSESED CHICKEN. By Queen .F. Photizo.

thRVN3OZ8W This is a guest post.
My childhood was really interesting and full of fun. I was born into a large family. My father had married and divorced several women before he met my mother and as a result, I had a few older half siblings. This made growing up a lot of fun for me because it was always a full house and there was never a dull moment. We lived in a very big building with lots of flats, a few of which my father leased out to tenants. The compound was also very large with plenty of space for playing around. Another factor that contributed to the fun was the presence of domestic helps. We had different maids come and go, each with a different cultural background. This gave us the opportunity to be exposed to different games and folktales from all over the country. Some of those maids were stern and unfriendly but most of them were very relaxed and loved to play as much as we kids did. My early years were filled with funny events and occurrences due to all the influences around. I am going to share a story about one of such occurrences. I call it “chicken drama”.
I have already stated that my mother was not the first and only woman my father married. This always put her on edge because in this part of the world, if you had step-children, that could mean serious trouble for you. Nothing you ever do will be right in the eyes of your neighbours and acquintances. Every little act of discipline would be perceived as maltreatment of the children and you could easily be branded a wicked step-mother; like the one in Cinderella. Anyway I digress. Back to the story. The main issue that made my mother uneasy was the fact that the mothers of those children, although they were not living in the same house with us,  might want to harm her and her kids. That is also a common occurrence in this part of the world. This fear of being harmed made my mother to become very prayerful and “spiritual”. This spirituality was further fueled by the church we attended then. We were made to believe that the devil had so much power and we had to stay awake and pray in the middle of the night or witches would kill us in our sleep. My mother was always alert and concious of the fact that there were demons everywhere. Every unusual occurrence was caused by demonic activity. She was what we Nigerians call a “prayer warrior”.
This chicken drama began when one of our tenants started rearing chickens in the backyard. The hens laid some eggs which later hatched into really cute chicks. I was nine years old at the time and my baby brother must have been around four. We were really taken with the cute chicks. They were so fluffy and yellow, we decided that we simply must have them as pets; at least one of them. Our maid at the time, Fatima, was the most exciting, adventurous and mischievous help we ever had. She was very playful and was ready to go along with every silly idea I had so I approached her with a new one; to steal the tenant’s chicks. She eagerly agreed of course and reappeared shortly with a very cute chick in her hand, apologetic for being able to catch just one. We set up living quarters for the chick immediately. After pondering for a few minutes I decided to create a home for it in the top drawer of my dresser. That was one place I was sure my mother would never look. We made the chick comfortable in the drawer and left it open just a little bit, for some air to go in. I made sure the space wasn’t large enough for it to get out. I was so happy with our new pet and I  actually thought we would be able to take care of it till it grew and was able to lay eggs. We fed it whatever we ate; we obviously didn’t have the slightest clue on how to rear chickens. My top drawer was filled with biscuits, strands of spaghetti, grains of rice and whatever food you can think of.
Our “pet” didn’t last with us for up to one week before the “chicken drama” occurred. It was a Saturday evening. We had just come back from a visit to the amusement park; mother, Fatima, baby brother and I. Someone foolishly left the drawer open, wider than usual, before we left for the park. The poor chick, after being locked up for so long, found it’s chance at freedom and jumped out. At that same moment, for some reason which I can’t remember now, my mother followed Fatima and I to my room and saw our wonderful pet. Now my mother is someone that overreacts a lot; she’s known to make a mountain out of a molehill and this made us to lie about a lot of things while growing up. As soon as she saw the chick she screamed, ‘Jesus! Who brought this chick here?’ The little person in my mind was running around frantically, thinking of what to do because I was so scared of what my mother would do to me if she found out we had stolen the tenant’s chick. However, on the outside I maintained my composure and calmly told her that I didn’t know who brought it. ‘So how did it get here?’, she asked. Again, I replied that I didn’t know. She immediately started binding and casting evil forces. She then called the errand boy, Patrick and asked him to take the chick outside and set it ablaze. The rationale for this was that if the chick was indeed a witch that changed her form, she would die in a very horrible way; being burnt alive.
Fatima and I looked on in dismay as Patrick took the chick, poured some kerosene on it and set it ablaze. I felt terrible as I watched the chick burn and I was convinced God was going to punish me for what I had done. It took me years to get over that incident and I eventually told my mother about it. She laughed and said she couldn’t even remember burning a chick. It’s something I laugh about now when I remember it but it wasn’t in the least bit funny then. I couldn’t sleep that night. I kept tossing and turning, thinking about what a terrible person I was. I had caused the execution of an innocent chicken.

Guest posts, Guests posts, LDR

Guest post. By Kehinde.

AuthorGuestPost1

 

LIFE LESSONS: LESSONS FROM THE MOUNTAIN TOP

I’d always wanted to go mountain climbing but it wasn’t an enthusiastic desire, just something I hoped for IF I ever had the chance. I wasn’t going to stress myself trying to make it a reality. You know how you create a bucket list and hope that some of them come true. Well, I did get the chance. Is it just me or do you also feel that first rush of excitement when you decide on something new? The kind of excitement you feel when you’re doing something you’ve never done before?

I was elated. I was going to climb a mountain, for the first time ever! The plan initially was to get to a manageable spot on there, take a ton of selfie, post them on social media and then go back home. I wasn’t going to climb the whole of that humongous mound, and I definitely wasn’t going to be climbing down after two hours on the mountain complaining of how much my body ached. I think that mountains are scary when you come up close. The way they stand unmoving and intimidating in front of you, and you never know what you’ll find. Only for my partner to tell me that snakes have been seen on the mountain. What?! But this was my first time and so far I hadn’t seen any snakes. There was also the fact that I wasn’t alone and of course I wasn’t going all the way to the top – at least I thought so.

The first thing we saw at the foot of the mountain was a small area of very clean water. You see, here in Nigeria we tend to attach spiritual significance to things that are uncommon, like that bit of water which some people had labelled ‘healing water’. I’m not one to disrespect people’s beliefs but on this day I had to use a bit of that water. It was extremely hot, I was sweating profusely and needed a sip of this water that looked like it was going to be refreshing. It wasn’t as cool as it’d promised though. Here that singular act would have earned screams of horror from the superstitious ones, besides I can’t lie that I was a bit hesitant and waiting for something horrifying to happen. Nothing happened. Fear number one conquered. I used what most people won’t dare to use, and on my body too.

On and on we went, taking selfies along the way yet this mound still stood unmoving. Anyone who knows what I’m talking about? You’ll notice that whenever you’re at the foot of a mountain you’ll feel very intimidated by it’s hugeness. It makes me think of our set goals or new endeavours and how that when we just start them they intimidate us because of our inexperience but as we do more of those things we begin to loose our fear. At the foot of the mountain I was most intimidated. I even imagined that it would tumble on me and crush me to the ground – I know that’s weird thinking – but as I continued on it I became less intimidated and more surprised that I was fearful of something that I was now standing firmly on. Our fear most time presents an illusion of what is not.

Fast forward to somewhere in the middle of the mountain. I could have stopped right there and be justified in ticking that item off my bucket list ‘go mountain climbing’, and I was going to if not for the innocent question that my partner asked me. She’d simply asked if I was going to reach the top. Between the two of us there was enough fear to go round. We’d overcome the initial fear of climbing the mountain, now that we had done that we didn’t want to face the fear of what lay on top of or after the mountain. I was scared (and it’s important that I emphasize that). Nobody told me to go mountain climbing. I was living alone so only myself and my partner knew where I was. I hadn’t bothered to tell anyone. Here I was now with the decision of taking even more risk or going back home with the fulfillment of having at least reached the foot of a mountain.

I don’t know where the courage came from but I decided that I wanted to be an inspiration to my partner. I was going to show her that it could be done, and so with my heart pounding heavily and the fear of the unknown (I didn’t know how I was going to run down a slopping mountain in case I had to), I dragged my butt -quite literally- up to the top. The mountain is such that at a point you could no longer walk on it, you had to crawl or drag your butt up. Interesting enough I had to back the unknown that I was going to meet, which means that I wouldn’t see what I was going to until I got there. I kept looking back just incase though.

I got up the mountain and saw a wide stretch of mountain with cactus, small trees, some short plants, and more and more mountains to the left and right – I don’t know any view more beautiful than the one from the mountain top. What?! I’d been scared of this? And it’s even more interesting because I saw cow dungs up there. How in the world did they get up there? Like that I reached the topmost part of this nameless mountain. My heart didn’t stop beating immediately but now I was more in awe than I was scared. I’d seen what was at the other side and guess what? It wasn’t anything to be scared of. I learnt another very powerful lesson that day: when we give in to our fears they make us loose what we stand to gain if we’d continued on the path of our dreams. When you get over your fear – no matter how badly your palm is sweating and your heart is beating – and you do what you’re scared to do, you’ll see that it’s really not that difficult. There’s nothing behind that mountain (figuratively speaking now) except for a stretch of unbelievably beautiful top and short cactuses here and there. And what joy to know that we did it. It was with joy that I ticked that item off my bucket list, adding beside it (to clear all doubt) that I also did reach the very top.

 

Guest posts, Guests posts, LDR, love

Soul Mates By Kehinde.

AuthorGuestPost1

SOULMATES

He…the love of my life.

The tingling sweetness of my insides.

One man, one amongst ten who got,

Got in me a treasure valued like gold.

He, this one, the one who holds,

Holds so tight I rest in love.

That one…his presence my smile

Him whom I never learnt to love…

The pounding of my chest,

The tightness of my tummy. But wait,

Is he my soulmate?

I always thought I believed in soulmates, well I did, until recently. Love the world’s way will have you believe that it’s an emotion that cannot be helped. In love you’re supposed to be helpless, drunk, needy of your partner, see the world through your love for your partner, no one ever says that but that’s the unspoken expectation. And it’s beautiful, absolutely something to be privileged to experience, but does it really exist?

I’ve always been something of a romantic – blame it on my love for all things romance. I love love and the idea of it, but you see, as a Christian my view on certain subjects will change, not because I force them to but because I take on a renewed view via the word of God that I take in… besides my influence is different now. I don’t claim to have gotten my view from the bible, but I’ll say that I am talking from a Christian point of view, as is my understanding.

When I used to read a lot of romance literature, I used to spend my time dreaming up my prince charming. I imagined that he was taller than me, was all muscled up, had fire in his eyes every time he looked at me, all those wonderful things like that, and I looked forward to romance. I longed for my own 6-packed hulk who was going to be my hero. I longed for this near perfect guy – because the protagonists in any romance story always fought only once. As I grew though I got to understand that there’s really more to romance than all the beautiful feeling. Most enlightening is my understanding of romance from the love chapter of the bible: I Cor 13.

In church you’ll usually hear that love is not a feeling, that to get a true understanding of love is to understand love God’s way: love is kind, love is patient, love does not boast, is not envious, etc. As a Christian it’s easy to quote this afterall we keep hearing it. But as much as I heard love to be this way, I never really was convinced that that was love, I mean love is fire, love is love and really it’s about two people in love. I had head knowledge of God’s kind of love and even practised the easy parts of it without referring to it as love. In my mind giving na giving, patience is only because I don’t want to look stupid – or I know I can’t fight the conductor. Tolerance is until I can’t take it any longer, long suffering has never really been appealing. Like that I went on, waiting on love because love was supposed to happen with a guy. I love my family and love God but the ‘love’ I was waiting on was special… the real one.

After reading through my favourite literature and noting the way the protagonist studied I Cor 13, I decided that it was time to find out what it was about that part of the scripture that everyone keeps going on about. I’ve read that portion before, in a group setting and personally, it wasn’t until recently that I really understood the gravity of real love.

The first thing that grated my nerve this time around when I read that portion is ‘love cares more for others than for self.’ I was shaking my head in disapproval when I saw ‘love puts up with anything, that spoiled it. Put up with anything? Like any-thing? Even when I’m being nice and the other party is being nasty? Like even when I’m being shoved rudely? Even when I’m without any fault? That’s tough! And that continues to be the most resounding part of that portion for me, maybe because it’s tougher to accept for me. I just can’t come to terms with the fact that I have to put up with anything.

There’s no way to explain I Cor 13 and dwell on romance, at least for me, because the focus is not on romance. The focus is on loving any and everyone like that. I concluded that having a soulmate is not God’s design simply for the fact that the idea of having a soulmate promotes selfishness and I don’t mean that in terms of self as it is that the focus of the love is just on the two parties involved. Having a soulmate connotes that our world revolves around our lover, that we see them, breathe them, etc. God’s kind of love extends beyond the two to everyone the parties come in contact with.

I’ve also concluded that having a soulmate connotes that the parties involved have attained an unreasonable standard of perfection. With a soulmate we insinuate that our lover can do no wrong, that he/she is without responsibilities, and even if, that they exist in a world without problems: sickness, financial situations, family responsibilities, etc. The whole idea of having a soulmate says one way or another that the parties involved are perfect and exist in a perfect world. If it was true, God’s love wouldn’t require us to put up with anything, wouldn’t ask us to be patient, long suffering (the dreaded word). It wouldn’t ask us to not keep score of the sins of others.

The relationship of soulmates is a relationship of exclusion. It excludes everyone apart from the parties involved, there is a horizontal expression of love that benefits only two people. Imagine if that love was actually ideal, how many people will be loveless? How many people will be denied the joy of experiencing true love. If God’s love was based on whether we deserve it or not, a lot of us will be without love. And that’s the beauty of I Cor 13, it tells us to love everyone, even when they haven’t done anything to be loved; the consistent practice of this kind of love is what even strengthens a romantic relationship because what will you do when you find that the one you’re smitten by is just as human as you and just as prone to be annoying?

The question is if soulmates truly exists and my answer is that it only exists in an ideal world made up of ideal people. Soulmates can’t exist because it’s exclusive – God doesn’t want only a few to experience love. It can’t exist because it’s idealistic – it wants something that can’t be (except of course all men were perfect). It can’t exist because people still find love (sometimes with a bigger intensity) after they’ve lost their spouse whom they were very much in love with. It can’t exist if love truly is a choice.

It’ll be too fickle if it existed because at the first sign of a challenge the parties involved will chicken out. I’m not negating the use of the word itself, I’m only against people looking for love in terms of finding their soulmate… I guess it’s whatever works for everyone but really it’ll only be disappointing. I rather prefer being married to my best friend. As friends we’ll acknowledge our humanity but as soulmates hold each other to impossible standards.

 

Guest posts, Guests posts

LIFE LESSONS: LESSONS FROM MY HAIR by Kehinde.

I’d like to bring out a lesson from the most unlikeliest place: my hair. I’m not particularly obsessed with my hair but like most women I could be finicky about it. I want my hair to look like a million bucks. I want to be comfortable with my hair. I have to say though that I belong to the group of women who don’t like adding extensions on. Gosh I love how other women look with them, they’re usually very beautiful and in my mind’s eyes I even look beautiful with them but in reality I don’t have the courage for them. You know how strands from them start sticking on your skin on extremely hot days…horror! It was with one of such experiences, after deciding that I’d had enough that I decided never to sew them in again. And the hairdressers don’t even help with the way they keep yanking at one’s scalp in the name of braiding, so it was a combination of the hairdresser’s ‘hard’ hand, the heat that comes with extensions, and my inability to maintain them that made me decide to stop them altogether. Even better was I wasn’t going to make my hair ever again, I was going to lock it. In my mind it was a better option than cutting off my hair or enduring the hairdresser’s hand. Three years later and I’m on a low cut. I’ve cut my hair twice in the last three years and not once in that space did I even mistakenly lock my hair. Then this morning someone suggested that I should cut my hair again, I could’ve laughed in Spanish!

Making the decision to go natural is a very huge one for me because with that I defiled conformity. Then with it came plenty of YouTube videos and hair articles, in truth the whole thing was draining, but not at first because I was still heady from the excitement of doing things my own way. I hadn’t told anyone before I cut my hair. A year later and I was VERY frustrated. Prior to going natural I wasn’t one to pay attention to my hair, I was pretty much a routine person, nothing extra, but with going natural I was now extra particular about my hair. For the first time I began to pay attention to what products I used, who did my hair, what kind of material I slept on, etc. I would for the first time ever come to say that I love my hair and actually mean it. I loved my hair absolutely. After going through the cycle of doubt, compromise and sometimes neglect, I decided to cut it again and I must say that I feel liberated from the need to have my hair a certain way.

As is with people, they’re wont to give unsolicited advice. Now I have people telling me what to do and not do with my hair. There’s this lady in particular who keeps implying -and she’s relentless- that I should subject myself to those hairdressers. I was just reflecting when it occured to me that this time around my resolve is much stronger than what everyone else thinks I should be doing with my hair. I’m no expert but I learnt this very clearly.

That listening to everyone on what i know i want for myself will frustrate me. I don’t know if it was that I trusted other people more than me or I was just being respectful of their opinion but I realised that I was listening to too many people, even five is a crowd. I’d decided on what I wanted so why did it suddenly not sound good enough in the face of other people’s opinion?…I learnt that defining what we want for ourselves CLEARLY is absolutely important. I’m not implying that we shouldn’t give ear to other people’s opinion, I’m simply saying that we should receive their opinion in the light of our own. There will be times when we need wisdom from other people’s experience, and that should count but have you realised how much we go to the wrong persons for advice? The people -whose advice I didn’t ask but were giving it- hadn’t gone natural like ever.

I also learnt that I have to be more confident of my choices. Because most of the people giving me advice were older, I assumed that they were right in telling me to ‘do my hair’ so I did my hair even after telling myself that I really didn’t want extensions. Many times I left the saloon wondering why I kept going back when I knew I didn’t like it, but you see my mum for one would not accept my hair as it was plus it didn’t help that I was not great at taking care of it. I don’t even know what she has against natural hair anyway.

This time around when everyone tells me what is best I just look at them with a smile on my face thinking ‘no way’. My resolve is much stronger having already failed myself once. Now I’ve clearly mapped out my goals and I intend to follow through, really though sometimes experience is the best teacher.

Guest posts, Guests posts

Life Lessons 2. (by Kehinde)

This work and its Content are the works of Kehinde. No part of it should be used without express permission of the owner of this site; Moi. Thank you

LIFE LESSONS: CHOICE, WISDOM AND DIVINE DIRECTION

I am a Christian; all of my choices have to take their root from my identity as a child of God. I can’t live anyhow. I am accountable to my heavenly father… but that doesn’t make decision making easier and I’m still trying to figure this out myself, where’s the balance?

Really I admire those who in times of trouble are able to take comfort from the scripture, those who make decision with absolute clarity, and those who have opinions and are very certain of them. Frankly I’m none of the above. As it is I am still learning how to take comfort from the scripture -infact it was my joy when I found myself just yesterday looking to the bible for answers, “progress”, I thought. I’m yet to make major decisions being absolutely certain of them, I struggle with feeling very sure about them. Am I right? Should I have gone for the other? Am I ready for the consequence of this? Because truly there’s always a better option. It was in the process of making yet another decision that I found myself stuck, unable to draw the balance between the place of my choice, the wisdom I should apply, and God’s direction.

With divine direction there’s the chance that one will use Romans 8:28 as an excuse for laziness, “And in all things God works for the good of them that love Him and are called according to His purpose.” So as a Christian I’m torn between trusting God absolutely or trying to figure it out on my own wisdom and power to choose. Trusting God only will mean that I dump the responsibility totally on God, not that He’s complaining, and that I don’t exercise my power to choose. Going for my wisdom – even if well thought out – can prove disastrous because I don’t know what God’s will is and even if on the surface my wisdom takes me far, it could be in the wrong direction. So where exactly is the balance?

I’ve come to realize that they’re all important aspects to decision making. I just have to put them all into consideration, but as a growing Christian, as a Christian who is yet to successfully differentiate between the voice of my spirit and the voice of God, as a Christian who is highly confused about what really is, I’ve concluded that: God is an important part of any decision and one way I’ve been able to vet my decisions through him and knowing it’s his will is having peace. You must’ve heard this before. With me I have to say that the reverse is the case -as I’ve come to notice. If the decision I’ve made is not God’s will for me, I get heavily disturbed in my spirit. I’m usually very restless and it’s not that I say it’s not God confidently, it’s more a consideration that maybe it’s not what God wants for me. When I choose to withdraw myself from that decision I’ve noticed that I feel lighter.

Wisdom is also very important. You see, I don’t claim to know it all or be absolutely confident, but I’ve realized that it’s just as important that with decision making I make my research and choose based on a very sound understanding of what I want to enter into. Okay, maybe using the word research is too rigid and maybe one doesn’t even have to do so much ‘research’, what matters is that our decision is founded on informed knowledge. It’ll be silly to because we depend on God have no idea what we want to get into. Now, doing our research doesn’t always make it easy -I understand all too well – but we’ll take a decision that exceeds the one we make in ignorance.

I recently discovered my power in the place of the choices that I make. I have the power to decide what comes or goes out of my life, and I love that power. But with power comes our decision as to what we’ll do with it, to abuse it or maximize it. I think that in the end God will honor whatever choice we make. True there’s divine direction but ultimately it’s a matter of what we choose. God can lead us in a direction and we still choose something else. It’s about what we decide on. After having what we perceive to be God’s will, made our research, and have our doubt or clarity it’s still about what we choose.

By Kehinde.

 

 

 

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http://www.bing.com/images/search?q=lessons+gifs&view=detailv2

 

 

 

 

 

 

Guest posts, Musings

THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT

  • so i’ve been mixing in Guest posts with my regular blogging to provide a platform for friends and acquaintances.
  • This  post is a guest post, all content is original works of the author.
  • If you would like to write for atomic words or be featured, send me an email @ sunesiss26@gmail.com. Please original content only. Thank you

 

 By Queen. F. Photizo

Chaos! The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines it as “complete confusion and disorder; a state in which behaviour and events are not controlled by anything”. That’s exactly the way I see the world now. The beautiful world we live in. A lot of things seem to be overturned today. I mean In terms of trends, values and standards. Based on the tales we hear from our parents and other members of the older generation, we know that the world we live in is a lot different from the one they grew up in. When I think of the rapid change I wonder if I really want to bring children into this world. There’s no telling how crazy things are going to get. For you to really relate with I’m talking about, I’mgoing to analyse a few examples of areas where the world has become completely orderless. But first I want to ask the million dollar question. When and how did the world become such a topsy-turvy place? It’s a question no one can really answer, right? Like my friends would say; “question for the gods”. Anyway let’s begin.
A friend of mine once jokingly said that it would soon get to a point in this world where virgins would be stoned to death for daring to keep their virginity in a perverted world. I laughed at the time she said it because the thought of it was very funny. But as I think deeply each day I realise that it might not sound so ridiculous afterall. I mean, there are some things that go on today that would have sounded absolutely ridiculous and impossible  just a few years back. People are getting married to animals now. I read about a woman who married a dog! She had a wedding ceremony and all! The sad truth is, we are now in an era where the things that people are supposed to be ashamed of are the things that are celebrated with so much pride while the things that used to bring honour and pride are now objects of shame. A girl in her twenties who is still a virgin might be reluctant to let people in a particular circle know that, because she might become the object of ridicule and derision. I’ve actually heard a lot of guys say “I can’t marry a virgin. I want someone with a lot of experience and skill in bed”. I usually tell such guys, “then make sure you marry a prostitute. You will get all the skill and exprience you could possibly want”. I once had a friend who told me that she had to lie and pretend she wasn’t a virgin to her boyfriend because she was afraid if he knew, he might not be interested in her anymore. It was the day they had sex for the first time he discovered the truth and of course, he was disappointed. Now when I remember the stories from the older generation I literally shake my head. In those days, a bride was celebrated and her parents honoured if she was certified a virgin on her wedding night. The world is so crazy now that sometimes it’s even the parents that encourage their children to have pre-marital sex. I read on a blog sometime ago where an unmarried young lady in her twenties said her mother took her to the doctor’s to have her fitted with an Intra Uterine Device; a birth control tool. Her mother was basically telling her “you can have all the sex you want as long as you don’t get pregnant”. You might be thinking this happened in the western world. If you think so you’re wrong. This was a Nigerian mother encouraging her equally Nigerian daughter to engage in pre-marital sex.
Now let’s examine dating. In the days of the older generation dating meant a guy trying to please a lady; taking her out to fancy restaurants, buying her gifts, etc. Now it has become an opportunity for men to enjoy all the benefits of being married to a certain lady without giving her parents a dime as brideprice. She does all a wife would do; sex, cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc. After a while, a reason for breaking up pops up,   she moves on to the next guy and the whole cycle is repeated over and over again. I ask myself; how many times does such a lady have to play “wife” to different guys before she is finally considered to take up the actual role? How many guys does she have to sleep with before she finds one that thinks she’s fit enough to be his wife? Some of these ladies wind up aborting several pregnancies because each time they get pregnant, the guy finds one reason or another why they aren’t ready for kids and marriage. It’s sad but it is the world as we know it now. This brings me to my next example of how the world has gone crazy.
We are in a time of illegitimate children. You could sometimes hear a young man say something like “oh I’m not married but I’ve got a baby mama”. What?! A “baby mama”? What does that even mean? It has come to my notice that people are creating fancy words to cover up shameful situations. Women go about shamelessly declaring themselves “baby mamas”. Can we just call a spade a spade? Let’s say it like it really is. Since when did having bastards become fashionable? The definition of a bastard is an illegitimate child; one born out of wedlock. So those so called “baby mamas” are proud of the fact that they have bastards. And what about those poor innocent kids? Children need both a father and a mother to be actively present in their lives in order to grow up properly. More and more innocent children are being born into dysfunctional families and that seems to be a good thing. So sad! However I wouldn’t want any misconceptions. I’m not saying I’m a saint. I’ve had my own crazy moments too. Afterall I live in this world so I get to partake in its craziness once in a while but I still try to maintain my standards because I’m royalty and I’m therefore required to behave in a certain way.
As I sit and ponder on these things I wonder what the world will become in five years. I wonder the kind of environment my kids will grow up in. I wonder the kind of influences they will be exposed to. I wonder about the next crazy thing that would be considered normal in this inverted world. One thing is certain though, even if the world becomes so overturned that people think it’s better to stand on their head than their feet, I’d still be an old-fashioned lady and insist on doing things the right way. Peace!

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Guest posts, Guests posts, Inspired

LIFE LESSONS: JUST GO WITH THE FLOW

So, I will be putting up guest posts every week or bi-weekly so feel free to send me original works and properly label them so all credit will go to you. (sunesiss26@gmail.com)

A dear friend of mine Kehinde has done me the honor of agreeing to be a guest Author on my blog on a weekly basis. So watch out for her.

I hope you all like her début piece on my blog. Enjoy.

My mum loves having new clothes, there’s no other way to put it. She loves it so much so that she frequents the tailor’s like monthly. Personally I don’t understand it, in my mind I’m like “but you have enough clothes”, but it’s none of my business so I say nothing and without questions follow her to the tailor’s anytime the situation calls for it.

As it is my mum will go any length to get quality out of her material. She’ll go the extra mile to find a tailor that’ll do the job well, that’ll do justice to her clothe. Her current talior has his shop a long distance from our home but he’s very worth it. He’s expensive but very creative and detailed and it is with commitment to his excellence that my mum visits his shop with every of her material, no kidding.

It was on one of those days that I followed my mum to her tailor’s shop. We’d been there for about 3-5mins with my mum telling her tailor the adjustments she wanted him to make, him clarifying why he added or didn’t add a design, when a woman of about 50 entered into the shop. I’m terribly bad with telling people’s ages so I couldn’t tell her age until she mentioned that she was a grandma. My first impression of her was neutral, she didn’t know me, I didn’t know her, but of course there was the courteous greeting initially. Because she’s older -that was pretty much obvious- I had to get up from my sit for her as a show of respect, what irked me was the air about her that I perceived had her feeling that indeed I had to get up for her afterall she was older. She didn’t even tell me thank you o. All well, nothing doing. I continued to watch the banter between my mum and the tailor somewhat bored, I was restless and ready to go. More adjustment and talks later and the woman that entered in was shouting.

This woman had given the tailor specifications of what she wanted in her clothes, she’d given him two lace materials. She’d heard he was very good and brought her materials to him to sew because she was to wear it for her son’s wedding. If you know an average Yoruba woman, an everyday Yoruba woman, you’ll know how seriously -emphasis on seriously- they take their parties and everything associated with it, especially when they’re an important part of the party, and especially when they happen to be the mother of the celebrant! Note if you’re a vendor: pressure alert! To be honest the material was nice, like very nice…before I digress though. The tailor out of sartorial common sense and over-creativity (if ever it exists) sew something that was a bit different from what the woman had specified. In my opinion the tailor did an awesome job. I loved what he did with that material, but once the woman sighted it all hell broke loose: he didn’t sew exactly to her specification. While my mum out of womanly understanding tried to reason with the woman, and the tailor looked on in confusion (you should’ve seen his face), I sat being irritated because I didn’t understand how someone as old as she could throw a tantrum over something so trivial. I don’t ridicule what her opinion is, she bought the material and has the right to dictate what happens to it, but hey, this guy was only trying to spice things up. That was how she kept crying and shouting until the tailor, still in confusion, started loosening the seams of the clothe.

I took some time over that incidence and concluded with the most powerful lesson from that: NEVER ATTACH YOUR EMOTIONS TO MATERIAL THINGS. It’s okay to like things in an inexplicable way, it’s okay to value things, it’s okay to attach sentimental values to things, but please never let it control your emotions or reactions. That woman reacted the way she did because she was emotionally attached to that clothe. My guess is that she’d had this fixed vision of what she wanted in her mind and nothing could change that. Flexibility is important. If we were a bit more flexible we wouldn’t get so worked up about things not working out our way. It’s a lesson I’m learning daily and for someone who’s getting over worry I’ve found that just letting go and allowing for life to do its thing will relieve a lot of pressure, does that mean we should be passive? No. But it does mean that if we’ll get over anxiety or spontaneously sparking out of anger, it’ll be because we have learnt to go with the flow and not be overly attached to things that won’t last.

By Kehinde.

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