I Chose to Remember

Are you afraid of where you are? Physically or mentally? If yes, you are not alone. I am in that House of Fear, right along with you, as are so many many others, I am sure.

Since I am not privy to your deepest fears, allow me to vocalize some of mine. 

I am in a good place.

By all accounts, and in comparison to where I am coming from, this is such a good place; I am not denied the basic necessities of life. 

But deep inside there is an almost crippling fear. A big fat one that tells me, what if you lose it all tomorrow? What if you are back to that dark place where everything was such a struggle, and well, dark? And when you come from a place like that, no matter how comfortable you get, there may always be the niggling fear that you might lose it all and go right back to where you were. Sometimes the thought propels me out of sleep. 

But I think it is important to accept where you are now. And enjoy it. I tell myself this often. I am aware that I did not arrive here through any special feat of my own but by great mercy, because being ‘here’ was truly unimaginable. I am talking about having the simple comfort of life that we so often take for granted. If you have never gone to sleep hungry, never had to worry about what you and the people depending on you will eat on the morrow, if everything you need come to you without conscious thought, then I am afraid you cannot comprehend what we are talking about. 

So, in not forgetting and while we must appreciate the simple things that make our day comfortable, we should not take them for granted. Having struggled so much, so hard and for so long to survive, we should epitomize compassion, generosity and selflessness, not become slaves to these things simply because they eluded us in the past. 

Now when I hold a plate of food – it doesn’t matter what is on it, what matters is that I didn’t have to think twice about it being there; I didn't scrimp and save and plan endlessly - when I slide my feet into my shoes, or lie in bed or walk around my house, when I hear the sound of my chimes, I remember, and I am grateful. Refusing to allow morbid thoughts of the past dampen the excitement of the present, roping me into depression. I try.

Needless to say, even though life is still not perfect (it can never be!) there are those who will begrudge us these necessities; they try to make us think that we are undeserving. But that is their problem, not yours. Because no matter how much people think they know you, they cannot truly identify with your emotional, physical or mental journey. No. They have to have walked in your shoes to get it. How can they understand that in your own mind you are still running in disbelief until a voice whispers to you, "you are home now" to calm you down? 

Perhaps, right now your story is the reverse, and you feel that the dark tunnel is so endless and that you are never going to come out of it, it isn’t, and you will! It may be that your fear is not along these lines, but that is also okay because no matter the shape it assumes, when it tries to drown you, tell yourself that is it only a matter of time, because this too must pass. And when it does, remember.

Just imagine if we were to look like what we have been through, I doubt I will even recognize me. I highly doubt it...

Be free oh.

This Vicious Cycle

My preoccupation today is the the blind beggars I see on my way to work every morning. Not that this sight is new to us. But no matter how many times we see the same thing, one day something new strikes us.

So, this blind young man was on one side of the street doing stuff while the young girl leading him around stood by, patiently waiting. Further away, yet a few others jostled each other, trying to get their own share of what anyone in one of the cars in traffic was offering. 

And then it struck me: these young (mostly girls) children are stuck! They have no life of their own. They cannot go to school or do anything for themselves, they have to lead their blind family around every day, begging for alms. And I cannot even imagine what kind of life that is.

How do we solve this problem? How can we get these children into school if their primary responsibility is to lead their fathers, brothers, (husbands?) around daily in order that they might make a living? The State does have a genuine desire to help sometimes but let us not forget our knack of not thinking a problem through before we jump in headlong with short-term solutions, for instance, get them off the streets, not to help them but simply because the sight of them on our streets is not 'pleasant'  in a particular part of the city, or because we see them as constituting a nuisance in that Estate (I have seen Estate officials take them off the streets in the past - they put them in their vehicles and take them God knows where). And so we dive like a charging bull into the fray, causing more harm than good. And because there is long-term solution to rehabilitating them fully, they are back on the streets in no time,  the initial problem becomes worse -  a vicious circle.

Again, how do we help these children get off the streets and into school if we do not, in the first instance, take care of the reason why they are there in the first place? 

The small change we give them daily can only do so much – actually, I am sure it barely supports them. So much trouble in the world. How do we do this?

Be free oh. 

My Smile Moments

Here we are at the end of yet another year, season and time!


As surely as there are regrets and unfulfilled dreams, so are there moments that makes us smile. I recall a few: one of them is my chimes, the thought of which makes me smile a truly secret smile!


I had wanted these for the longest time and when I finally stumbled on one it had to be a teacup, no less. I mean, for someone who likes tea, it was the perfect thing.


But on the day that we put it up, the night was still. Unerringly so! Nothing moved. It was so quiet and I got really worked up. All I wanted was for the chimes to immediately begin to, well, produce sound! Back and forth the window I went, peeking at it, wondering if we had hung it right. Maybe the cylinders aren’t well aligned? I wondered why tonight of all nights there was no breeze - nothing twitched. But I wasn’t going to go to sleep without hearing that thing. Then I did. Gently and quietly those pretty, slim, pink cylinders came together in the sweetest sound I have ever heard! My smile was so huge and the thought that popped in my head was ‘that is the promised sound!’ This is exactly what chines are meant to do. No matter what part of the house I am in, I can always hear that very pleasing twink twink, however faint, and it never ceases to amaze me.

Finding those moments, making memories out of the small things without necessarily sweating the big ones, is really important. And so, the chime, which I have named The Sound of Promise, as well as my little Christmas tree, are a few of my favourite things things year. They automatically provoke a smile, and are a constant reminder that no matter what is going on, when the time is right…the time is right.

And just last night, I was remarking to someone that I hadn't heard that twink twink in a while, and right on cue...there it was.

What are your ‘smile’ moments? If for some reasons you have none, you should create them.


…be free oh.

Thank You!

...and today happens to be Thanksgiving in America. What a coincidence! 

While it is a good thing to be consistent in these things, I want to believe that our giving of thanks, and this has nothing to do with religion specifically, is not something that we should reserve for a special day. That it becomes special only because we want to be elaborate about the things we are thankful for and the reasons for them.

In this year alone, so much has happened. In fact, sometimes we think we have seen it all, then even more horrific happens and we wonder. So much has gone down in this year alone; from continents, to nations, to homes, and individual lives. But, are we hopeful for a better next year? Absolutely. Surely we must keep hope alive? And we should be thankful that despite everything that has happened we are still here to recount the tale.

I hope that our giving of thanks will not become a routine, like saying ‘thank you’ out of politeness, not necessarily because we are truly grateful for something that someone has done even if it was a service that we paid for. I hope that our giving of thanks does not become decades-old tradition that has somehow lost its true meaning, but which we carry on because we must. That today (and tomorrow, and always) we will make an effort to muse on gratitude, for things that we have, who we are, even for those events that are perplexing.

I hope that thanksgiving will become something we are deliberate and consistent about...daily!

Be free oh. And thank you for reading.

When all is said and done...

I don’t get why we feel that nothing can happen because we have done all we can or need to do to cover all bases. Even when we know that in life, anything is possible. A fact that we are well aware of but which nevertheless always seem to confound us when it does happen. Sometimes the forces does conspire to remind us that we cannot always be in control of everything.

So, a few days ago all the operating systems in my house shut down. Completely. 

Google Image

I arrived home after a tiring journey to find that there is no power, the inverter, generator, cable TV, internet, everything had shutdown. And I could not recall that ever happening, nor could I explain how or why it did.

I had two choices: lose control at why this should be happening now, or take it in my stride and accept that there is nothing I can do about it at that moment and go to sleep. It was very difficult, but I chose the second option.

But I learned a few lessons. One, no matter what 'insurance' I have put  in place, systems do fail. Secondly, the way I react in the face of that failure is purely my choice. Negative energy depletes, being positive will help me take a step back and re-assess. And thirdly, while a bad experience might not leave me totally unscathed, I would have learned something, one way or the other. 

The way we react in the face of the small is a reflection of our reaction when the big things happen. With so much happening in the larger world, why sweat the little things?

After all, what guarantee do we have in life? According to Joel Osteen 'you can’t control everything around you. Be your best and trust God to take care of the rest.' 

I vote we breath and be free oh!

The Phone...

Our phones, our lifelines, literally!

The phone is like a second skin to some people, the thought of not having it on their person is incomprehensible and unacceptable. It is unimaginable to think we were without this device a few short years ago.

Sadly, only a few people have an ongoing battle with the phone being the center of their lives. I am doing my best not to be too attached. Again that is easy to do because I work with someone who is understanding; it is okay to forget the phone at home, and not move heaven and earth to get it on account of work. It is also okay to have it off and be unreachable sometimes.

We cannot afford to lose the human touch, physical relationships and our connection to the real world. But sadly, that is what is happening; we forget to call and actually speak with people on their birthdays and anniversaries. As long as we send a an online message and post photos, our 'duty' is done. The social media dance is now the in thing.

This torrid affair doesn’t stop even when we are with other people socially. Oh, it is worse when we are alone at events. We dive into the phone when we are bored, alone, shy, embarrassed or just don’t want to talk to other people. Sometimes we pretend to be on a call (Oh, I do that too) just so we are not forced to confront our ‘aloneness’ at events, or be forced to speak to other people. I keep wondering, what did we do when we didn’t have this 'life companion?'

So one of the things I am learning to do is put it out of sight when I am with people. And that if I do end up alone at an event, not to make it my +1. So that I can try to create an interest in the event itself or the just observe the goings-on; initiate a conversation with the next person, that is, if they are not engrossed with their own phones!

Now I also put the phone away when I am driving since I almost ran into the car in front of me a few weeks ago because I was trying to take a call. The after-effect of that near-miss is not something I wish to experience ever again. Imagine if it wasn’t a near-miss...

As people get away to de-stress and reboot, learning to consciously stay away from the phone is a habit that needs to be cultivated. I give advance notice to all my stakeholders, and off goes the phone, for an hour or two, or a day, as is appropriate. You will be surprised that there will be no fire, and no one would have died on account of the fact that you were unreachable. That should teach us to think we are indispensable.

Think about it in another way, you would have had time to do those things that doesn’t involve the phone (maybe not a lot, but still). And if you then you find that you actually have no life outside of it, perhaps it is time to create something worthwhile?

Be free oh!

Photo credits: Google Images

....then do Something

Emily freeman of Chatting at the Sky has this slot on her blog posts where once a month she writes on 'What I Learned Last Month' and invites all and sundry to share. I confess that laziness has kept me from putting my thoughts on there...but let me share it here with you. Very simple. Teeny tot...

Recently, I learned that though I should pray about everything 'no matter how small', I really must go a step further by adding works to faith - 'faith without works is dead' and all, you know? For more than a decade, I have had to put up with this painless 'infection' on my toenails  - a straight tear down the nail, and no matter how fast that toenail grow, it breaks at some point and look really unsightly. 

Now, the strange thing was that it never occurred to me to seek treatment for this problem. I prayed about it. Yes I prayed...and prayed as we are wont to do, and watched the problem persist...then prayed some more. I never researched the problem, never thought to seek medical help, never discussed it with anyone, nothing, just moaned and prayed.

Then one day, I was with my sister in Brussels and we saw an advert for the treatment of toenails, we looked at each other in wonder and decided to try it out. 

To cut a long story short, I cannot believe the transformation and repair of my toenails in two short weeks! Then I got upset with myself. How is it we are so ignorant and suffer needlessly? The fact is that we have all that we need to resolve a problem, if only we would wake up to the fact. I didn't have to have suffered through the displeasure of a less-than-perfect toenail for so long. God is never going to show up in person to solve our problems. Pray, YES, but He has given us brains to think, and tools with which to work things out, but He blesses those steps as we take them. That is my own understanding, again. 

Lest I bore you with long readings, this is about my toenails, but then again it is not. Whatever it is you are obsessing about, perhaps its time to have a chat, visit Google, take some simple practical step, and then all will be well with you, and I dare say, the world!

Be free oh.

I Want Popcorn!

I don’t know about you but I do not have a new year’s resolution. 
I slid into the new year like you might another day. Resolutions? Scary things because they don't last past the first week. Period.

So why are we on about New Year’s Resolutions? Well, because I had a terrible craving last night? Because I read a piece on gluttony this morning from a blog I subscribe to? Or could it be  because my mind keeps screaming is to eat healthy, and be committed to working out. Or could it be that what I want is to be healthy because, really, it is not about size, but rather that we take care of our bodies, not only in terms of beautifying it but actually looking after it. After all, we can’t go anywhere without it!

I am not exactly a fan of popcorn, I eat it at movies, but I mostly stay away  because when I start, I usually don’t like to stop. I knew I didn’t have any at home, but I went into my pantry anyway and checked, hoping for a miracle but alas. And then I became really agitated, distracted and restless. I looked at the time, 8.36pm, and I seriously considered going out to find popcorn d Self-control? Patience? Not an option right now, Ok?

But while I was debating what to do, a miracle happened! My cousin called to say he was on his way to see me, and yes, I mandated him to not show up without popcorn!

You do realize that this is not really about the popcorn, right? But about our (sometimes inordinate) cravings for things we know are bad for us but which we absolutely must have. We all crave something. And we are so easily helped along because everything we desire is just a finger, a phone call away...accessible…have you seen the number of networks dedicated to food on our TVs? Who wouldn’t want to try out all those menus, and just…eat? 

I am afraid that my will is not strong enough to withstand all of these forces no matter how good my intentions. Then, having made a nonsense of my will, they pile up feelings of guilt, then some depression. I will never know if I would have indeed gone out to get that popcorn, but what are the odds that my cousin would chose the day I am trying  to avoid temptation to come see me?

D'Cafe in VI Lagos

I have no answers for how we can be diligent and stay true when we are confronted by our original sins - we all have something - but I know that if I start by thinking that moderation is key in everything and that small, tiny portions are an option, then the will to  have that tiny portion is a big step. Then, taking one day at a time, and not beating myself to a pulp if I fall.

What more can I say? Self-control is a fruit of the spirit, and God did say He would not allow us to be tempt for more than we can bear…meaning...I gave in only because oh, I wanted to.

What is your ‘popcorn?’

 Be free oh. Be healthy.

Popcorn photo credit: Google.

...Before You Dive in

I as responding to an email yesterday when I noted that the sender’s surname had changed.

I was going to remark on the fact after typing my official reply, and to ask if she had just gotten married but I stopped myself because, first, we are not friends have never met in person, and only began to correspond on behalf of our bosses recently. Secondly, why on earth would I assume that because her surname changed she got married? That is such a typical way to think. She could have gotten divorced or widowed and only reverted to her maiden name. A lot of thinking but I don’t think that thinking this way is a bad thing!

And right on the heel of that thought came another that I noted sometime this year: every season we have Mother’s day, Father’s day etc. and we celebrate mothers and fathers as special people, and we pray for them and generally just….yes, go on and on. But stop for a second. Has it ever occurred to us that the mere mention of a father or a mother brings pain to some people? That they are catapulted into a period in their lives they would rather sooner forget? We truly just never think about it that way. I say this because I honestly cannot recall being anywhere where on mother or father’s day we remember the other side, or people. Hopefully we would learn to have (and share) a balanced view of life, of topics, subjects etc. And in this case, learn to commiserate with people who have had traumatic childhoods, and those who are estranged from or lost their parents. I look forward to holding hands with those who need succor and support, even as I celebrate with those who don't. I would like a community that identifies with both sides, where each can sit on the same bench, saying to one  or the another, "I got you". 

I hope we learn to look beyond the surface, and find the strength to stop ourselves when we want to dive in, and end up putting our foot in our mouths.

Be free oh 

Link: please read Emily Freeman's book, "Simply Tuesday"
Photo Courtesy Google images.

The Race is Not to the Swift!

I don’t know if you are like me but I taking great pleasure in watching some movies over and over again. So, in watching the movie Rocky yet again, I learned yet another click here)valuable lesson from my favourite; Part 2.

Quick recap: Apollo Creed insisted on a rematch because of criticisms from his fans, and the fact that he won on a split decision (when 2 of 3 judges rule in favour of one fighter while the third judge rules in favour of the other) – something that had never happened to the world champion before, according to the movie. 

And so the rematch began, with Rocky giving as much as he got. It quickly became apparent to Apollo that Rocky was not going to go down as easily as he had assumed. More, that the fight might not go as he had expected. Finally in the last round, after fighting hard and dirty, Rocky punched Apollo so hard that the force of the punch propelled him onto the floor of ring even as Apollo went down. And so both fighters began to struggle to stand as the referee began the count down…Apollo had a good head start only to crumble at last moment while Rocky rose unsteadily to his feet and staggered across the ring. The clear winner this time.

This is not about Apollo and Rocky. This is about how we handle the apollos in our own lives. 

While we are quietly trying to mind our business, trouble show up to disrupt our world. We grapple daily with so many things, some of which we can’t even talk about, problems that defy solution or even articulation. But this is life. How we react to it is what is important. 

And being  pummeled on all sides, all we really want to do is curl up in defeat and die. But we are meant to hold on because there is always a silver lining. The determination of a Rocky can help us push up and out of any ‘apollotic’ pit we may find ourselves. Rocky is described by one of the commentators of the fight as a ‘man of limited mental capacity’ compared to Apollo. And that right there is the point that needs to be made: that the race is not to the swift or the battle to the strong.

Another lesson for me is that difficult as it may be in reality, walking away is a sign of strength, not weakness. In the movie Rocky actually thanked Apollo for fighting him. If he hadn't sought Rocky out, the latter would have remained a nobody, an unknown.

Life is hard. This is a fact. But the picture of Rocky and Apollo falling in that ring is etched in my memory; a reminder that no matter how long, how hard and how dirty the fight, when we are down and before the count of 10, only we can decide who will be the one standing or staggering across the ring. Its a mind thing, not just a thing of the mind.

 Be free oh.

Photos: Google Images

No Glasses on, I Suppose?

You know how we mostly struggle to embrace or accept 'the new,' or the fact that something is (dares to be) different? How we stubbornly refuse to accept change even if it is the natural progression in a situation? And the way we struggle, one would think it were life-threatening. 

‘No glasses on, I suppose?’ This was the response a dear friend sent me after I completely mutilated the English language in a text I sent to him. I had been doing that - writing bad grammar in text messages - for a while then. Thank God for the retract function on BBM!

But what is responsible for this? Two things, I believed: I got new reading glasses, and I changed my phone. To a touch screen. And I just could not deal with the touch-y thing! So I blamed the phone for the bad grammar. I did not think to blame my impatience to hit the ‘send’ button without editing but, that was because it is the entire text that gets mangled! That cannot be a coincidence. I also did not consider the fact that I may not be seeing the tiny characters as clearly as I should. And, I conveniently forgot that my eyesight isn't exactly 20/20; I had used reading glasses briefly last year (a fact I hid from most people), but I lost them and I moved on. 

I realized that there was problem when some time last year a document I used to  effortlessly read suddenly seemed unreadable. So, I went back to the ophthalmologist who recommended glasses again. But because I was in self-denial, all I did with my glasses was read that particularly troublesome document. It never occurred to me to have them on when I used my phone, or read anything else, I just squinted away instead. It therefore came as a shock to be asked why I didn't have my glasses on while I was texting. That brought me up short and I thought in wonder, this is a new season in my life. Here is change: I am aging, my eyesight is proof! Omg! 

So I woke up to the realization that this is now a part of my life that I must embrace. Although I still struggle, not wanting to have them on to read everything so that I don't get used to them, I have come to terms with the fact that this is a necessary development that I should accept. And so I did; with grace and aplomb and the fact that they do look cool and snazzy is not lost on me. And I have come to appreciate how easy they are on my eyes. Needless to say, texting is better…all I need is a bit more patience not to hit the ‘send’ button too fast. 

I wonder what sort of season you ought to be coming to terms with. I wonder what 'glasses' you should have on that you shy away from...we must learn to simplify life, it being so short... 

Be free oh.

Do You Have a 'Denis?'

I sat down to my evening meal yesterday and was about to dig in when my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and it was ‘Denis’. He always calls. I rolled my eyes and ignored the call, then dug into my meal, forgetting about him. For the moment.

But who is this ‘Denis?’ He is a young man that worked as a Man Friday (for want of a better description) at one of the places I used to live, and ever since we moved out, (about 6 years now) Denis, would call from time to time, like clockwork. I mostly ignore his calls, but when I do take it, his narration is always the same: he is only calling to say ‘hello’ and while at it, he would apologize for waiting that long to call, then go on to ask about my family by name and…call ends. Always the same. 

But while I ate, I kept thinking about him and something struck me for the first time: DENIS NEVER ASKS ME FOR ANYTHING. He only calls to check up on me. So why is it I never take his call? Why would such an innocent call irritate me? Have I become so independent, so ‘un-needy’ and so insular that being checked up on is unwelcome? I felt terrible thinking about it. Our life is full of a mix of people. God must have put them there to give us some balance. If we are expending ourselves in some areas, perhaps this ‘Denis’ is a reminder that that you are loved, and thought without added pressure? After all, we do need a support system, some of which come in form of a Denis, (along with with so many like him, the Bogas, the Saturdays, the Fridays, the Iks, the Solomons), These are part of my own community. 

Needless to say, I called Denis back, and the conversation this time was very different. I responded very warmly, and I believe he would have been pleased, that is, if he even noticed that I was a tad cold on previous calls! 

Do you have a 'Denis?' I hope that your disposition towards him (or her) would change from today, and that you would make peace by being the one to call them up for once.

Food for thought: What do people think when your name show up on their phone? I wonder if their faces light up in pleasure, or if they grimace, hiss and roll their eyes? I would feel terrible if I thought that was the reaction my caller id gets. 

Be Free Oh.

Held Hostage

Photo from Google Images

You know that feeling of guilt you get when you have neglected to call someone (usually family, for me) for so long that it has sort of become ‘too late?’ Each time you attempt to rectify the situation, the feeling of guilt or the fear of blame gets in the way and then you leave it off, promising to do it another time? That is exactly how I have felt about coming back here.

But my wake up call was the title of Emily Freeman’s (Chatting at the Sky) recent post, 'When Your Soul Feels Held Hostage.' 

I have, in a way, been held hostage by the hustle. I allowed the issues of life to get in the way of my muse, or rather in the way of posting them, because no matter what, I do muse! Each time I think I have to post a blog, I go, 'oh no, I have left it too late. And even when I recall some of the things I had posted in the past, I feel even guiltier. However, as in the case of calls to family or friends, the solution is to just do it! Pick up the phone and make that call, ready to deal with the consequences. At least, more often than not, the relationship restored.

I must also confess that I was partly discouraged because none of my ‘frequent’ readers actually asked why I stopped writing! I kept hoping that someone would. It made me question what I was doing, it made me question all the comments I had received in the past, it made me question my own motive. But I got over that fast, because when I think back to the reason why I started to write in the first place, pleasing people was nowhere near top of the list. Pleasing me was. So back to that I go.

Something else I used to find pleasure in writing was my "I Wonder and I Ponder" piece on Facebook, back when I was on there. That needs to be revived although I do wonder and ponder where to post that!

While I do not promise to post a blog daily, I am back. I have so much to write and share. Especially my part in the journey of #change in Nigeria. I voted! It was one of the most important things I have ever done in my life. It made me feel so fulfilled that I have a stake in the direction in which my country is headed. But, that is muse for another day.

May those things that give you pleasure and make you smile involuntarily come back to life. Don’t let the hustle hold your soul hostage...

...be free oh. 

IWD: Who Are You Celebrating?

A few days ago I wrote a whole page on the International Women’s Day but left the draft to breathe for a while. By the time I came back to it, I knew I shouldn't post it because it was all wrong.

Sure I had written about The Woman. How not many of us are appreciated enough, if at all. About how, if we have never been celebrated for the things we do as women in our families, our work places, our communities, groups etc., perhaps it was time to be the one actually celebrating others - without airs, without condescension, not sizing one another up because we do this a lot. Woman to woman. Lets face it, we women mostly don't like each other.

But then I thought that we shouldn't even concentrate on us us this time. I felt that the very people we should celebrate are those who have no idea what the ‘International Women’s Day’ is all about. I thought, how can we make their day? How can you and I let them know that their daily struggles, their challenges, their very life is appreciated? Our drivers’ wives, our security/gate man's wife, the young women who clean and serve in our offices, our favorite customers in the market, our stewards, our nannies! – those women we (sometimes) never really seem to notice, much less think about.

What have we got that we can give? Those things that wont even cost us much; it should cost us something because sometimes a free gift is just that, free -gives  nothing else in return, no feeling of ‘accomplishment’, pleasure or satisfaction. But the very least we can do, for those who don’t believe in free gifts, is give a smile to someone to let them know that though they may be in the background working, their impact is felt in all that they do. In fact, for some, all you need do is say their names for once! You will be surprised at the reaction.

These women are not aware that we are celebrating a day dedicated to our gender because they don’t read the papers, they don’t receive our broadcast messages or emails, they are not online to read about offices and organizations that are giving kudos to women all over the world to celebrate their womanhood and achievements, what’s more, they are not invited to the conferences and summits that celebrates them.

This is the group of women to whom I dedicate this year's Women's Day celebration.  

I hope I have piqued your interest and steered your thoughts in the right (and a new) direction.

I plan to do. I hope you do. I wish we would all do... Something.

Be free oh.

Card culled from Google.com 

The Haze Speaks

For as long as I can remember (I am sure I have made reference to this before on this blog), the sight of the haze that signaled the arrival of the ‘harmattan’ season in Nigeria meant something bad to me. I have been known to use the word ‘depressed’ to describe how I feel. But for the past year or two things have changed a bit. I have learned to let go of the discomfort, and whatever it was that made me feel like something that was yet to begin was already over! But I ramble.

A few days ago I wandered to my window, and behold there was the haze! I thought this was a good thing because the weather this year has been weird to say the least. There was practically no demarcation between the seasons; it rained almost all year round in Lagos! 

Secondly, as I stood there staring out, it occurred to me that I didn't feel the usual discomfort or restlessness. And for once I searched within myself to dig out the reason why this period always made me feel the way it did; not that anything tragic happened in my past to trigger the feeling, I believe it is more a collection of the memories of a time when life was all innocence, when there were no pressures, when the simplest thing ever was to just be, to live, to be happy and contented, to go to school, come back home, repeat it all again the following day. But all that changed fast when life happened.

I believe I had an epiphany standing at that window though. I thought to myself, this haze is a welcome sight. I see change! I immediately wanted to do many different things; I bought a Christmas tree for the first time ever and spent time with my sister decorating it, I just stand there and grin each time I see the tree. I plan to cook up a storm (errrr, I shall avoid doing the actual cooking though) on Christmas morning, spend the day with my sisters, binge on everything eatable and drinkable. Laugh! Be happy. Why? Because the sight of The Haze is now a reminder (like the rainbow) of promise, that today is better than yesterday; a reason to consciously seize the moment, revel in it, and not care what comes next, and really, that the haze does not necessarily have to mean obscurity. 

Granted, sometimes the cold and the heat may bring discomfort, or the rain may make our day seem drab, but we have a choice to bring in warmth and color, and for those who know me, I am all about colors!

Let the season speak to you, it has me. I am dancing!!

Be. Free. Oh.

Photo courtesy Goggle.com 

Take a Minute

Somewhere in Mauritius - picture taken off Google.

I came here to say two things:

First, I had to post this photo again (it has featured somewhere on this blog in the past) because it gives me a sense of peace. Seeing all that green and blue assures me again of life. And every time I am experiencing anything painful, like taking an injection), I disappear into this scenery and the pain is ...gone!

Secondly, I realized that the reason why I take so long to post a blog is because I have reduced this space to a place where everything I write is/must (be) serious. No more laughter, no jokes because the world is burning. Because there is pain. Because evil abound.

But the fact is that these things are expected. They have been predicted. And as much as it is painful to know, to experience, life must not be allowed to pass us by. In fact, all the more reason to live and laugh, and to appreciate each day that we are able to walk out of our homes, and walk back in. And to not dare to be ungrateful for that.

So, like Emily Freeman of Chatting at the Sky loves to say, 'take a minute, and let your soul breathe' and I add: 'allow the beauty and peace of that photo sink in and wash over you.'

Be free oh.

...and Zouzou Mused.

The world has hardly been still since I was last here.

What, with the plane crashes, Ukraine crisis, Iraq, Israel and Palestine, ISIS, oh, lets not forget the little town of Ferguson in the US, to mention but a few.

And no, I definitely did not forget Ebola!

So which should we talk about? I have kept away because I didn't know which issue to muse on! They were happening so fast! But that we do not want to talk about something does not make it go away.

So I took my own advice on passion, and remembering the reason you started something in the first place, and to 'just do it.'

So. Ebola. 

When Patrick first landed Nigeria and the news of Ebola broke, my first thought was, 'Lord, we really could do without Ebola right now!' Isn't battling Boko Haram enough? 

And then the nightmare began. And people have been dying. Death within a few short weeks, family thorn apart, medical systems stretched to the limit.

But since you and I are here, what are we doing? What is our position on this matter?

Are we taking it seriously enough to talk about it, practice and really get into the physical (and spiritual) things we need to do to curb the spread? Or are we nonchalant as usual, and flaring up when someone dares to send a broadcast or forward an email on the matter? 

We owe it to ourselves and to our neighbor (yes, those people we notoriously do not care about, the 'other people' who are not us!) to be safe. Be safe! Talk about Ebola in its entirety, terrible as it is, but also about the hope of recovery, the need to curb it. I was reading this article this morning and it made me tearful. I don't know if we really, truly grasp the enormity of this outbreak. And if we do, being hygienic should be non-negotiable! And if that involves not shaking hands or hugging for you, then by all means stick to your guns! Do not let people make you feel uncomfortable about your decision. 

On the other hand, we should also remember that there is hope as people have recovered. We can cling to this, speak about it, and be encouraged. 

My sister (who lives outside Nigeria) has been saying 'Ebola will be sorry it came to Nigeria.' But that can only happen if you and I actively engage ourselves and those around us in fighting it. Let us 'join hands' together to make Ebola sorry!

I hope that a high level of personal hygiene is what this experience leaves with us when it is finally over. And it will be over.

Be free oh (to spread hope, not fear).