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Life happens

Hi,

I planned I was going to give you stories here week after week but life happens and it pulls you here and there.

They say when life gives you lemons, make lemonade, shey? I did not only make lemonades, I planted the seeds and threw the rinds back at life 😁

A new series starts today. 💃💃

I started writing this series in 2018 and for many reasons I could not continue with it. At a point, I even had writer’s block and got stuck 😔

Then Uncle Covid and Aunty Rona decided to visit Earth. They sneezed in Earth’s house and he got sick. Earth had to stay at home and be locked down.

The lock down has helped in tearing down the walls and clearing the cobwebs in my mind and boom! I kept writing/typing and did not stop.

So please come back here at 7.00pm.

If you are yet to subscribe to my blog; please do, so you don’t miss out as the series would be posted every Tuesday at 7.00pm.

See you at 7 🤗

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Photo Credit: https://www.tryvibrantchurch.com

 

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2020, Here I come

In a few hours, we will be ushered into the new year; Year 2020.

The year 2019 has been a great year for me. It has been a year of milestones.

As at January 2019, I had no idea how or if I would accomplish the goals I had set for the year.

But bit by bit, step by step, I had to learn to throw fear out of the door and decided to own those goals with faith. Eventually, it paid off.

I would like to say thank you to everyone who has followed my blog thus far.

To everyone who purchased my book ‘To Love and to Hold’, thank you.

To the ghost readers, thank you. Please drop a comment once in a while. I know you are there 😁

See you all in the year 2020.

Happy new year!!!

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Rules!

The elderly woman’s voice was loud as she walked into the store talking to her friend.

The security man at the door stopped her. He asked her to drop the nylon bag she was holding at the entrance.

“Why?” She asked.

“That’s the rule ma.” The security guard said.

“There is nothing inside the nylon that you are selling.” She said to him.

“It doesnt matter ma. You have to drop the nylon bag here.”

“Why are you stopping me?” The elderly woman asked as she raised her voice higher. This is not the first time I am coming here and no one has ever stopped me from carrying my nylon bag inside.”

The woman began to call the name of a staff of the store. The staff walked up to the elderly woman. “Good afternoon ma.” She said.

“Good afternoon. Is this your security new here? Because I dont understand why he is asking me to drop my nylon bag.”

The other staff of the store looked on as they all stopped what they were doing; wondering what the outcome of the altercation will be.

The friend who had walked in with the woman decided to save the day. She relieved her friend of her nylon bag and handed it over to the security guard.

“If anything misses in my nylon bag…..” The woman said as she allowed her words to hang in the air.

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I watched the whole scene from where I was shopping and wondered why dropping her nylon bag was so much of a problem.

I wondered if she had walked into a large departmental store, would her reaction be the same?

I also wondered if she was just being difficult because she knew a staff of store.

I concluded that some battles are not worth fighting.
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Photo Credit: http://www.superprof.com.au

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Courtesy and Respect in the new generation

A few incidents of recent got me and a colleague of mine discussing about courtesy and respect in children.

We were walking on a pathway when some school kids who could have passed for between 13 and 15 walked towards us. None of them broke their stride as they walked and almost pushed us off the pathway.

My colleague and I looked at each other and shook our heads. And we wondered if courtesy and respect still existed in children of the new generation?

We relived memories of our past when courtesy and respect was a value entrenched in us by our parents. It did not matter if you were Yoruba, Hausa, Igbo, Calabar, Fulani etc. Courtesy and respect was a universal language we all understood because we were taught.

The second incident happened when I was alone. I was walking a path that had been reduced from a two-way path to a one-way path by a barrier.

I saw these two little girls of about ages 6 or 8 walking from the opposite end. I stopped and waited so they could pass by.
I was surprised when instead of passing through quickly, they strolled towards me gisting away.

When they got to where I was standing, I told them ‘next time when someone stops for you so you can pass by, you make it snappy’.

Even though they were little girls, the part of me where home training is embedded did not make me believe that I had a right to pass through before them.

But the question that kept ringing was; has home training taken a back seat in our homes?
Have the new generation parents thrown away the values we were taught as kids instead of passing it down?
I am a new generation parent and sincerely, home training is still very important to me.

Or am I old school?

Please share your thoughts below and let us have a conversation.

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Photo Credit: https://www.letstalkwork.com

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Oops moments.

Are you aware that ‘To Love and to Hold‘ is available in print? That means, you can now have a copy of my book for keeps for N2500 (Two thousand, five hundred naira).

In case this is news to you, please check my previous post 🙂
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Have you had any ‘oops’ moment? I remember vividly one that happened a few months ago.

It was my daughter’s 17th birthday and she wanted to hangout with her closest friend and her siblings.

I opted to serve as the driver for the day to do a pick up and a drop off. We arrived at her friend’s house and she greeted me familiarly (I have known her for a while).

Her friend advised that I see her parents before I pick her up; fair enough, that made a lot of sense.

Her mum walks out and sees my daughter and I. She looks at her daughter and asks if the three of us attend the same University 😂 (if you happen to see me on a weekend, chances that I will be dressed in shorts is very high).

Well, the explanations begin and ‘oops’ 😁 She is too shocked that she decides to introduce me to her husband, who is more shocked.

I actually had a good laugh that day. That wasn’t the first time I would be involved in such situation. Even friends of my kids have told them I don’t look like their mummy, because apparently, they are looking for a big mummy.

Are there any mummies out there like me? Gather here for a group hug 🤗

Have you been at the centre of any ‘oops’ moment? Please share in the comments section below and let us all have a good laugh.

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Photo Credit: https://www.sportsmansparadiseonline.com

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Life Necessities

When I think of some of the things we did or experienced in the boarding house, I sometimes wonder how we survived without disease outbreaks.

I remember the periods we had no water; the rain just like yesterday’s heavy rain was welcomed with a grateful heart.

We opened the gutter slabs in the hostel and allowed the first stream of rain water to wash away any debris from the gutters. Once the stream of water was clear and we could see the bottom of the gutter clearly, we would begin to scoop the clear water with a bowl or cup into our buckets.

This water served for bath time and for garri ?

During these water scarcity periods, we sometimes had to walk miles to fetch water from a village stream which was actually a pond because it never flowed. It was stagnant water in a large mass. The villagers washed their clothing on the brink of the pond and scooped water out of the large mass to rinse the clothes. So there was a possibility that soapy water from the brink splashed into the larger body of water.

We fetched our water from the large mass of water. Did we care whether there were soap splashes in it? The road to the stream/pond was so steep that coming back, we had to be careful not to trip with the buckets on our heads. We would cut banana leaves and place it on the water in our buckets. The idea was that the leaves stopped the water from pouring backwards as we came down the steep road. Thinking about it now, I don’t know who came up with that logic but it definitely worked for us.

The first bucket of water was for the kitchen where we would write our names down. This signified that we had earned our dinner. We would then go back and fetch another which would be for personal use. I remember there were a few seniors who were particularly wicked and sent juniors to get them a bucket of water from the stream/pond. Such juniors ended up going three or four times on a journey which was full of torture.

The water we fetched always had tadpoles swimming in them but that did not stop us from using it to drink garri. Once your bucket of water is settled in the hostel, we scoop out all the tadpoles and leave the water to settle. We would then blow the top of the water with “mouth breeze” and viola, it becomes purified ?‍♀️ ; what were we thinking. Students that had alum were considered kings. They broke the alum into their buckets to purify the water.

It is difficult to understand how we never had typhoid or cholera outbreaks. We however lost a student to typhoid in my final year. It shook us and it made us realize that we were all exposed to death.

Water is definitely an important necessity of  life.

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Photo credit: https://www.aces.edu

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Picstory – Out of left-field

I saw this over the weekend.

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The only thing I could think of was “why go to this length?”

As in…..isn’t this too much? Or what do you think?

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Photo Credit: Olubukola’s phone

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Introductions!

I was in a gathering of both men and women. We were asked to introduce ourselves.

I introduced myself by my first name. The others did as well.

Then, it was the turn of a particular lady; she introduced herself as Mrs……

We all got talking and even though what we were discussing had nothing to do with the family; Mrs. informed the rest of us that she had kids. I smiled.

The facilitator of the meeting had initially introduced herself to us by her first name but when she was asked to repeat her name; she repeated it as Mrs… I have no idea if the change in her introduction from her first name to identifying herself as a Mrs. was a result of the initial Mrs. who introduced herself but well….
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A few social gatherings I have been a part of, I have noticed a few women do not want to be identified as their first name. I am yet to understand why.

Does calling them by their first name belittle them? Or does it reduce the bride price that was paid by their husbands?
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To my fellow married women, how do you introduce yourself in a social gathering?

To my single friends, what is your take on introductions?

Do share your thoughts below.

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Irresponsible Mother, Irresponsible Daughter

Date:                     December 31, 2018

Time:                     About 10.30pm-ish

Location:              Church premises

Everyone was dancing and praising God when I noticed the young boy seated on the aisle in front of me throwing up. I would put his age at about 5 or 6 years. A young girl who could pass for a 3 year old was sleeping beside him. I noticed the boy was holding a girl beside him who seemed to be oblivious to what was going on. She was a teenager; maybe a 15 year old. Another girl probably about 8 or 9 years sat on the other side of the teenager. They all looked alike; so my calculation was that they were siblings.

I tapped the teenager and told her the boy beside her was throwing up. She looked at me without any feeling and walked out of the hall leaving the boy who continued to throw up on the floor. I assumed she left to call the attention of their mother or their guardian. I wondered at her attitude, though. She did not give the boy a second look.

Two women sat on the same aisle; not far away from the boy. Another woman and a young man seated on the aisle in front of the boy all noticed him. The woman seated closest to him tried to pat his back. I would call her “Madam A”. The young man seated in front asked the boy to go outside to throw up. I said no, he could be weak and could faint on the way outside. After his episode of vomiting, he and the 8/9 year old girl left the hall.

The second woman seated on the same aisle, farther away from the boy went outside. She would be called “Madam B”. She came back with a dustpan filled with sand and poured it on the vomit. She made a second trip and came back with more sand. She must have informed one of the ushers because a lady came later with a mop stick. Madam B advised the lady that what she needed was a broom and not a mop stick.

Some minutes later, the boy and his immediate elder sister came back in. He didn’t look like someone who had just thrown up. He was smiling and they made an attempt to go back to their seat. The place was still a mess with sand mixed with vomit.

I noticed Madam B scolding both of them. She turned them back and refused to allow them go back to their seat. The children left the hall and went outside. I tried to follow their movement and noticed they were talking to a woman outside.

I recognized her. Before the service started, she hit my leg while trying to pass by and talk to the kids. I ignored and moved my feet away. She didn’t have to pass by my aisle to talk to them. She could have gone through the aisle where the kids sat; but well…Did she realize that she hit me? I couldn’t say but there were no apologies from her.

She left the hall. She came back a second time and hit me again while trying to pass by. This time I looked up and gave her the look. She apologized immediately and while leaving, she actually opened her mouth this time and uttered an “excuse me.”

Apparently, she decided to sit outside the hall while her kids sat inside. Madam B must have also traced the kids’ movement because I saw her walk outside straight to the kids’ mother. I noticed she was having an argument with the kids’ mother. I saw her point into the hall as she gesticulated. She stormed back into the hall in anger. I heard her tell Madam A and Madam C (seated in the front aisle) that she asked the boy’s mother if her kids related what had happened inside the hall. She had responded in the affirmative. Madam B said she told her that the place was a mess and that she should have at least come inside to see instead of just sending the kids back to sit in the midst of vomit. She said the kids’ mother told her she did not need to come inside; that someone will come and clean the mess.

Madam B said she was shocked. Someone will come. The someone that she did not deem fit to call or at the very least; send her teenage daughter to if she couldn’t. She had no words for the woman. She left her alone.

The two young kids came back into the hall. This time, Madam B quietly allowed them to go in and sit beside the vomit/sand mix. The usher came later to clean up the mess with a broom and dustpan. The teen girl came in much later after the place had been cleaned up. She sat down beside her siblings as if nothing had previously happened.

Maybe on a different day and in a different situation, I would have given the teen girl a little education on responsibility. But I realized my education would be a waste. She definitely wasn’t trained by a responsible mother.

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Photo Credit: https://www.highschoolsandhelicopterparents.weebly.com