Sunday, May 15, 2022

The Beauty Of An Incomplete Picture

 


The Beauty Of An Incomplete Picture!


So I have a brother Joel Alasan  who is a fantastic artist and I sometimes have the privilege to catch him just when he’s about to start a painting, most times my curiosity leads me to ask questions of what he wants to do and I realize no matter how hard he tries, I don’t really get the full picture of what he wants to do. 


I just see sketches and lines and and and you know what I mean right? But he on the other hand knows what exactly he wants to bring out and even though it doesn’t look like it at first, he stays there for hours, days even months till that perfect resemblance of what he has internally becomes manifested on paper, on canvass or whatever medium he chose for it. Then, we all can come back and say “what a master piece this is”


Point is, he didn’t give up on what he saw until it became what he has produced, in-between that period is a process that involves time, skill, patience and faith that it can be done!


Joseph had a dream that his brothers will bow before him, what he didn’t see was all the troubles that will come along with it, even time to be spent in prison, maybe if he had seen it at the beginning, he would have ran somewhere else and aborted the dream prematurely. 


Maybe if the children of Israel knew about the 40 years to be spent in the wilderness, they would never had left Egypt. Before you shout arrh, do you have an idea what a wilderness is? The wild in the wilderness stands for wild animals o, pitch black with no mosquito nets, some of us become so irritated when there is power outage so imagine what they had to go through for 40 years! 


There is a beauty that comes with not having a complete picture at the beginning and that is the whole essence of FAITH and BELIEVE! The incomplete picture provides a form of safety so we don’t get intimidated and chicken out of fear.


You obviously won’t look like it at, seeds don’t look like trees but inside of them is a full tree with branches, leaves and fruits!


I don’t know what you’re looking at right now, some obviously very far away from what has been written concerning you, but I have got good news; for as long as you have faith and believe in the one who has spoken concerning you and over you, the process is not over, you’re on your way to perfection! If yours is taking “too long” by human judgement, remember it takes a longer time to make pounded yam and egusi compared to indomie. So relax, the expected end is coming.


God didn’t forget you, God hasn’t forgotten about you, God cannot forget about you and I. The picture of your life hasn’t finished unveiling yet. Be calming down my brother, my sister.


You’re such a special human and don’t let the ugly process with it’s twists and turns make you feel otherwise.


Have a blessed week ahead. God loves you!


P.S You can visit his page and art gallery to see amazing art pieces. Tell him you want a discount because it’s from me. 

😊



Monday, September 14, 2020

Life: Through The Lens Of A Child



We used to free, playing on the streets,kicking empty cans all the way to school and back.


We were free to visit the stream,coming back home with eyes so red you can’t deny where you’ve been ( you really didn’t need to anyway)


We used to be free to eat,drink in the neighbours friends house coming back home with big round tommies and shirts stained with oil due to the struggle for meat.


It was actually allowed to remove our sandals and walk bare feet, swinging them in rhythm of songs learnt from the village square last night.


Parents yes, but the society was the standard model and watch dog. Kids getting spanked by total strangers when due and still complimented for not sparing the rod when the news filtered back home.


Teachers were idolized as mini gods due to the importance society placed on them- a noble profession with “rewards in heaven”. Life for us as kids was super fun.


We built castles with mud,using our legs as designs. Creativity and natural instincts buzzing in our heads.


The girls quickly learnt singing and clapping while gathered around in circles,cooking with empty cans and pawpaw leaves while the boys,armed with catapults,ventured beyond the boundary of the stream in search of that elusive old wise tortoise grandpa always talked about so they could be as wise as him. 

They actually did venture because the fear of evil men to kidnap them wasn’t a part of the society. But all that faded away.


We now grow up in houses with fences so tall they reach out to the moon, our freedom the society wickedly took from us. The society you adults have created. We now live with the monsters you created.


We play yes, but with toys and TV game consoles more than with the kids next door, oh yes, we see them just as they leave for school that's all in dark tinted windows.


We eat yes, but from cans and packs,beautifully sealed nylon wraps picked from the kitchen shelf cos mummy has to beat the traffic at 5:30am, and yet we dare not eat or dine even with our best friend in school because we don’t know the source of the water in their houses. 

We feed on 2 minute meals, microwaved meals from last week and meals from the delivery man more than from mummy's kitchen.


The closest I have been with my cousins is looking at their pictures on Facebook( the ones I know or heard of ) cos they all bad people who do not like us. 

While I struggle to make a sentence with my own mother tongue,teachers trying so hard to make me speak and sound like the half baked humans I see on DSTV, they say I will be accepted easily when I sound like them, why can’t I sound like you mum? If you don’t like the way you sound who else will?


Boys growing up on their own filled with Internet curriculum and modelling their lives to the edited content of celebrities on E channel because Daddy is busy meeting deadlines and targets set by the corporate world, a vicious circle that keeps him away like forever but to which he says pays the bills and allows me the luxuries I enjoy.

 Luxuries? Seriously? You mean being caged as soon as school ends is now luxury? That used to be when the fun was just about to start.


And so I get to spend so much of my developmental time with nannies sorry I mean uncles and aunties who are too busy on social media to notice me and when they do, explore my purity and violate my innocence , setting me on a dangerous path.


Cooking is now an odd ugly task meant for the chef while I dwell on the society short cuts: 2 minute noodles and coco pops. The joy of splashing and goofing around in the stream washing clothes now long as I only toss them into the washer and wait for that cling sound to signify it's done. 




You might argue that they have made life easier but also, it has taken away an essential part of learning and altered the natural balance of life teachings as we grow up. 

We now juggle between British and American curriculum expressed as Montessori for the elite while the poor languish in so called public schools at the mercy of unpaid teachers struggling to find motivation but surrounded by frustration hence the then noble profession now a shadow of itself.


Education should never be categorized based on it either being private or public; opportunities in life aren’t! No kid was born to come face this societal divide, we innocent.

In case you adults have not noticed; our innocence is a different kind of beautiful that most of you only dream about.

When next you sit on the decision making alters and tables,remember we have the right to be protected and provided for but most importantly we have the right to be free, free from the mental walls and societal barriers you adults have created.


3 Days To My Wedding..




“Its either you are the new Virgin Mary or you lied abou t your virginity status in your form, because your pregnancy test result is here and it shows you are seven (7) weeks pregnant!. So which is it? Be rest assured that even your fathers status as Senior Pastor cannot make this panel bend the rules for you. Am afraid but you will have to call off the wedding”.

Those words from the church marriage committee this morning is still echoing in my ears long after I left their presence. Hours later, as I sat on the hotel couch, throw-pillow half soaked with hot tears in my hand, looking hopelessly at the mirror trying to see what part of my life I could salvage from the destructive chain of events that had quickly kicked in since my meeting with the panel ended and I walked shamefully out of the church premises hurriedly into the waiting Uber taxi.

“Back to Wuse II where I picked you or to another location? Ma? The very kind driver obviously noticed there was something wrong with me. I was quite the bubbly bride-to-be chit chatting away about how plans were on top gear for my wedding three days away with so much joy and excitement in my voice that literally was contagious and then now am ice-cold trying so hard not to sob so loudly. He could read the handwriting on the wall that the meeting didn’t go as planned.

“No, just take me to any hotel outside of the city centre, I need some time to myself” I stuttered. Now alone, in an undisclosed location, far away from family and friends but my problems proved I could only run but not hide from them.



Zoned out completely, gazing into nothing specifically, my attention was reawakened rudely by the sound of Wiz Kids “Fever” song; a ringtone customized for Jason my fiancée. As my gaze shifted away from the mirror to the phone, more tears flowed from my eyes easily with reckless abandone.

I buried my face once again into the helpless pillow and broke down completely. My heart was too heavy and I screamed and shouted out in agony. My hands were shaking and shivering, I couldn’t feel my legs and my body temperature was sky high. I fell back on the sofa and just wished I could disappear. 

My whole world was crashing down on me barely seventy-two (72) hours to arguably one of the most important days of my life just because of a test result am sure isn’t mine!.

How can I be pregnant? Sex was never an item between Jason and I. When we met in London two years ago during our first semester exams to earn a Masters degree in Financial Analytics, we both agreed till our wedding night. It was easy for both of us to resolve that easily due to the similarities we had in our up-bringing. We even joked sometimes as to who had the meanest experience and bombardment from mothers about sex and the dangers of engaging in pre-marital sex. 

He, like me, grew up in a church environment hence our principles seamlessly had the same direction. How the pregnancy test came out positive still beats me. I was too shocked to even respond and the panel felt my silence was consent!.

Bad news spreads faster than good they say. Within an hour the meeting ended, I have rejected calls from far and near. The constant beeping of messages and chats dropping in my phone were more like a competition. I knew they all wanted to hear what I did not have the answer to; ARE YOU TRULY PREGNANT?

With that, I passed out. Am sure hours passed by. From the depths of my sleep, I saw faint images of a hotel waitress tapping my shoulders. I could see Jason shoving her away and picking me up in his arms. The remaining images were too blurry for me to recollect fully. But I did not wake up, fully.

By the time I did, the environment was quite different from the hotel room I remember checking in to. I could still hear sounds, a constant beeping but not like the notifications from my phone. Even though I was weak and still fuzzy but I realized I was not alone. My head ached so badly and I was feeling feverish. Minutes later, my view became a bit clearer. I could identify Jason from his athletic body frame standing by my bed side talking to my father but I couldn’t hear what they were saying though.

That in itself was punishment for me; were they discussing how disappointed they were in me for bringing shame unto the family? So many permutations ran through my mind. Then it hit me, how did they find me in the first place? Who told them where I was? Am sure they are so angry with me.

Just then, a lady in white uniform came in and asked them to step outside, I realized I was in a hospital. She did her routines and confirmations. I shut my eyes firmly so she will not know I was awake. It did not work, as she leaned over to me and whispered “aunty, I know you are awake but I will not tell them. ‘Just rest for now”.

How I yearned to ask her if she knew what they were discussing outside, but if I did, my temporary cover will be blown and the fear of the unknown will come bearing down on me in its full wrought. So I decided to linger on in my “safe haven” of am not yet awake.

Moments later, the two mother in-laws scampered in with my mum in front. I could feel the unease in her breath when she leaned to kiss my fore-head. The remaining two men outside; my father and Jason also walked back into the room. I was eager to hear what the topic of discussion will be. I was expecting the worst tantrum from my mother when and not if she finally opens her mouth to talk.

“Ah, those useless hospital people want to kill my daughter, a girl the holy spirit and I trained through fasting and prayers. So this is how the devil wants to attack me right? Blood of Jesus! They have failed with me o, they can never succeed”.

My mother, panting and breathing heavily as she paced around the room but I still did not know if I was safe to open my eyes or not. My father interjected, “Dear, she will be fine. It was a mix –up in the files. We just have to wait for her to wake up and then pick up from where the arrangements stopped!”.

I felt a tingle in my ears, there was adrenaline rush from my head down to my toes, I could not believe what I was hearing but again, I needed to be sure so I will not burst my cover and face the panel of death.

“I have been telling her to calm down but she will not listen, my son has already gotten the correct result from the hospital and tendered same to the committee chairman who personally called us to apologize for the earlier directives sent to the pastor. Nothing will spoil our day of joy o”.

With that reconfirmation, I opened my eyes, my eyes were locked in with Jason who was standing directly opposite the bed. He rushed to sit beside me, gently holding my hands and kissing my fore-head.

“You got me scared to death, I reached out to the taxi company hours after you told me you had arrived at the church. They checked their logs and confirmed you dropped off at Lugbe Satellite town. We traced your phone via GPS and tracked you to the hotel, we had to use the spare key to open the door and rushed you down here”.

I wanted to respond but the words were not coming, the tears started pouring in again. “Babe, don’t cry, it wasn’t your test result. There was a mix up with the surname; we are getting married in two days time so we really need to get going. You have slept for 15 hours while I have filled in for you with the arrangements I could. You need to pay me for that babe”.

With that, everybody busted out laughing real hard. My night mare had come to an end, my head was still aching but I was pumped up to resume from where I stopped. I tried getting up but I was told to allow the nurse remove the IV line in my left hand.

Can somebody give me my phone I asked, I need to confirm if the red roses have arrived from Lagos…”that is my daughter talking, soon to be Mrs Adenike Jason Cole”.

With that, we all left the hospital. I have a wedding to plan. Bye 



 

Friday, August 28, 2020

When

 


When life rhythms doesn't actually sound no more like duduke

When you hate the sight of sunrise because you gave up already on the day unfolding since last night when you soaked your pillows drenched

When the cover of darkness is the safest place you felt at peace; far from all preying eyes, probing questions at every turn all fuelled not by care or compassion but to confirm and satisfy their thirst for stories of your failure

When your silent outer self is an exact opposite of the raging war happening in the inside, yet wrapped around a smile as you trod past memories of sweet before all but gone in the fleeting moments


When conversations became sour, chaotic and a battle of who is wrong or right, all aimed to massage a battered ego bruised and scared from previous encounters on the alter of moral justification fanned  

When the voices, the only voices that you hear, that sound like songs and meaningful to you only lead to a place of darkness with no light in sight

When you look so closely, you see friends and foe and can’t tell which you should embrace for they all appear with tongues as weapons ready to strike deep with no remorse for your gut feeling

When the best wishes, decisions only echo “give up” “surrender”  “you can’t make it”. “its over”, at that point, if only you can take a moment and appreciate the last breathe and realise how special you are and privileged to be able to have one more go through your nostrils

You realise if you can do that alone, all by yourself, then you are all  you need to make it, make it through the challenges no matter how overwhelming because the journey to survival and happiness first starts from a willing mind and not a hopeless being

No matter what you lose, do not lose hope in God, in it, the greatest survival and success stories have emerged. Yours can be the next but only if you let hope a place in your heart.

Bless


Monday, July 27, 2020

Oh My Mother Land

 
How did we get here? That the cries of the innocent no longer irks our soul? Tell me how the blood stains on our land, flowing freely, is no longer seen as a proof of carnage?

While those alive mourn those dead in fear, the killers jubilate so loudly, we can hear them sing from afar. Their rythmic dance steps insult the memories of their victims for free.

Oh my land, my home! Can I still call you so? All I see now when I remember home is a slaughter field, where my ancestry is being eroded, violated, destroyed by people I once called brothers and fellow men.

How different are they from me? I see none, our skin tone shows we are supposed to be united as a common front against those who come from beyond the big wide sea to tap and mine the blessings of the creator hidden deep underneath our huts, just for you and I but alas today, they sit back and watch, without having to lift a finger, we turn and strike deep into the heart and bellies of ourselves

Wives left with no husband's, mother's left with no children to sorround them, maidens raped right in front of their fathers and our young ones sent to the great beyond in an instant, in one night.. 

Who do we call? Where do we go from here? A people with no sense of direction for our leaders either sold it for bread or were silenced for refusing bread. Who teaches the few young ones still left that the way of the sword is not the only language the world understands?

Oh the land I call home! The smoke still smells of burnt bamboos from my huts, the streams now sour as carcasses litter the path to the stream. Will morning ever come? Will the cover of darkness on our minds ever be removed?

Will this voices of pain and deep sorrow ever sing and dance to the early morning chirping of birds? While our leaders walk around with broad smiles and laughter as if their homes are safe and secure, the people they lead languish in utter disbelief of their arrogance even in the face of excellent failure on oaths taken to protect lives and property

Oh my land

My home

The silence of those meant to act has become too loud, it's deafening! The bloodsheds have become endless, the pains unbearable and the mockery too hard to swallow.

Tuesday, October 15, 2019

Now I Speak




Echoing in my ears,

Voices too loud, it took out the harmony therein

Years gone by, a trust built over time

From my nascent tiny steps, and now am fully grown

All that now a distant cry, shattered & lost!

The beautiful pages on which the future: my future was supposed to be written

Now turn and stained with the guilt of a predator and my innocence up in the air like puff from a cigar

Washed away in an instant like sand on the sea shore that melts like wax

Success brought me to him like waves hitting the sea bed; he had a constant supply of it, of us yearly

Nature, unintentionally crafted me, a piece on the menu that can’t be resisted. And while to the society he appeared like an angel with feathers so decorated with degrees, inside was a monster, a lost soul with a thirst, only for my innocence.

A two faced being, left to roam freely. To some they were prey to satisfy his urges while others were friends. The truth of which side you belonged only came out when it’s either the sunlight or moon light.

My choices were to fail or pass, graduate or spill

He had all the aces while I watched aloof in disbelieve

Who was I to talk to? About? Why?

He robbed me not with arms but with the power of trust & integrity the society gave him

Unfortunately,

The society termed him a saint while I was the sinner

I had no voice compared to how loud his profile was

Nobody believed me, nobody could believe

I left damaged but worse because I had to keep it all locked in

Armed with a degree, emboldened with the self healing processes over time

Now I speak

Not for me, but for those still blinded by the societal veil he covers his evil with

Justice might be wishful thinking but my burdens are lesser cos my tongue is no longer trapped by his clutches

I can now see light at the end of a once dark path



Saturday, February 16, 2019

A People Lost


I was me, wondering around in my own world,

I was far away, echoes faded out just as quickly,

With nothing out of the extra ordinary,
Was I contended? I cannot really remember.

I was a combination of more good than bad,
In the midst of my dark world yet inside of me was an untapped gold mine.

Blessed with so much resources that I didn’t know half of it yet  but they did!

Music to my ears was the sounds of waterfalls: racing torrents of rivers, nature dancing continually in perfect rhythm just like hymns.

Meeting at the confluence but then the delta and the ocean calleth!

The sight of sand dunes of the sahara flirting with the sunset at dawn made the eyes teary.

The lush green vegetation of the sahel rolling over each other, a constant reminder of how perfect my rofia mat (if laid) can be- tranquil.

Animals big and small, a source of company and food as we all shared this very beautiful space I found myself in.

Oh it was beautiful indeed...

The Baobab showed me how big I can be ( a giant amongst nations), the Iroko, a reminder that I can stand my ground even in the midst of storms and yet I had lilies by the river bank; beautiful during the day, fading away at sunset after being battered by the hot scorching sun that guaranteed my all year round toned skin.

Yes the sun, to whom the birds usher in at dawn with the first sound to start my day, long after the owls and squirrels had fraternized with the moonlight.

The winds were fresh and unpolluted, I looked forward to a fresh dose every morning, but then he came..

From a place I never knew existed, he pointed far beyond the sun sets. I wondered if that was the reason his skin looked so undone!

He was clothed with promises so sweet, it was food to my ears. I was curious and nervous at the same time.

I showed him my space, my people and my land. The more I showed him, the more promises he made.

My people rode on the promises away with him far away beyond where the sun sets and have never returned.

My land he took as his, my people he took while I fed on his promises and waited..

Its been decades since my people left, sadly I hear some are now ashamed of me, their mother land-Nigeria

To be continued..

Ripples Beyond My Heart - Part 1

  “ It can’t be, it shouldn’t be, this can’t be happening to me “, what can’t be?, asked Ibrahim as he turned around with a sharp stare whi...