Showing posts with label Lessons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lessons. Show all posts

Saturday, January 23, 2016

ON DECIDING TO BE BEAUTIFUL


So guys, here’s the thing. I have been drowning recently; drowning in the ocean of activities that make up my life. I have lost weight recently, acquired eye bags the size of Texas and broken down one or two times. Let’s not even talk about the needs vs pockets ratio.

Needless to say, contrary to my plans and hopes for starting the New Year, I haven’t been entirely happy lately. This has turned me into such a nag that I sometimes cringe when I start with these rants. At some point, it was okay to rant; I mean I have the right to. It’s me we’re talking about here. But somewhere along the line, I realized that I was actually becoming sad. In the two weeks, I have broken down in serious tears about thrice and shouted more times than I can count. My countenance became sour and every day, the ball of negative energy around me expanded and somehow got tighter.

I am not going to delve into some of the issues I have been dealing with since I do not have the privilege of being an anonymous blogger but here’s the deal: I HAVE CHOSEN TO BE HAPPY. I made a choice to be at peace with myself last year and by God’s grace, that turned out amazing. I was in my ACCA class on Saturday and whilst classes were going on, I was bus making lists of my immediate needs and attaching price tags to them. By the time I was done, I understood why some parents pop B.P pills after looking at their children’s lists.

After dwelling on these needs for quite some time, I decided that although it’s quite disappointing that I may not be able to afford all at the moment, they are not worth my happiness. So guess what, I dropped all that burden somewhere along Ojuelegba and moved on. I mean, when has God not had my back?

I retraced my steps and decided to uphold some of the decisions I made with taking good care of myself being one of those at the top of the list. So I thought you might want to hear some of my year-long resolutions. Note that I didn’t use the term “New Year.”

§  I decided to start zinging my water with lemons and other fruits. My citrus zinger water bottle is already "IN" and I’ve got tons of recipes waiting to be tried out. Yass Fit Fam!!!

§  I decided to start pampering my skin and believe me when I say that most of the things on that list were for my hair and face. Anyways, I walked into Montaigne Place and walked out with 3 bottles of awesomeness in a Clarins range.

§  I decided to stop being grumpy and get around to chores that I felt like are not in my jurisdiction. Like I won’t let myself be uncomfortable cuz I’m too pissed at you for not doing your job; I’ll go ahead and do what I can cuz I’ve got standards and there’s no way your smallness is messing with them.

§  I decided to eat fruits every single night; I need to have that healthy glow. Who knows? Shining bright like a diamond can get a girl a diamond. Lol.

§  I decided to stick to black soap…Yes, you heard me. I have been using Cussons Baby Soap for some years and as you all know, I’m a grown woman whose skin has grown-up issues plus my mum decided that she was done with my child support programme. So I discovered FOREVER LIVING AVOCADO BAR which is amazing and does a fine job of making me N1000 poorer every two weeks or so. Then I went to Akwa Ibom state for work and an old friend introduced me to this jar of black gooey sweetness called “ATONG.”
I’ll skip the details and jump to the part where I started using Dudu-Osun thereafter. So far, I’m loving it. It’s cleared some of the zits I had on my chest and back and the rest of my body is glowing. I was a bit skeptical about using it on my face and just stuck to my Neutrogena face wash. I also read reviews on Dudu-Osun online and many people had amazing stuff to say about it. I also learned that I can use it for my hair. Can I get a “Halleluyah”?
*REVIEW ON MY BEAUTY REGIMEN COMING SOON AS A VLOG*

§  I decided to be more disciplined. I want to remain a Risk Consultant and become a professional blogger/vlogger this year and these appeal to my discipline and sense of priority. I’ll have to work smart, write better, shoot better and just be more efficient generally speaking. I’d also have to make out more time for squats (and the dumbells for those just arrived...yayy!) and making salads and smoothies. You’re probably asking why I can’t fit the four lines above into 365 days without tackling discipline. Well, if you’ve set goals that you are determined to achieve this year and realize that the first the first month is always gone, you’d have the answer to your questions.

§  I decided to build a great reputation among most people I’d come in contact with this year. Basically just be a beautiful person on the inside and on the outside. I know I can’t do this alone, and am constantly asking for help form God.

I HAVE DECIDED TO BE A REALLY BEAUTIFUL PERSON ALL-ROUND OR ELSE WHAT’S THE ESSENCE OF BEARING A NAME THAT MEANS “BEAUTY COMES FROM GOD”?

Xoxo,

Nazzy

Monday, January 11, 2016

HEARTSTRINGS

SOURCE: ideasvalentinesday

ROSE:
I always wake up to a wet sweet tingling on my cheek,
Right where your lips touch before they move to my neck.
My tongue never gets used to your flavor as it bears the drugging effect of wine, chocolates and pure love.
We’ve been married just a year and I still look forward to marrying you the very next day, and saying I do all over again when you hug me from behind.
I often wonder if this would be till the end of time.

LILY:
I have loved you for a decade or so, borne your name for half the time and will want you forever.
I took vows by the sea with waters, earth and sky echoing them in unison.
Bed sheets can bear witness of the passion we share and the lights of how often we abandon them so that I can find you with hands and not eyes.
But outside your arms I know no solace for I am yet to bear the name mother;
I often wonder whether you’ll start to mind that too.

DAISY:
At first your touch was mild and then they turned to jabs that later turned my skin purple after a day or two.
At first I never wanted you to stop speaking for your words were laced with roses and I glowed as each syllable passed through me.
Now I’m running out of heart for each word from you destroys one more inch of it and makes me less woman.
Three missed periods have ended with scarlet fluid running down my legs and more life ebbing away from me.
I often wonder how long it takes you finally destroy a woman.

IRIS:
You have renamed me, re-molded me and made me yours in a way that can never be undone.
The purity of every interaction with you saved me from myself and every hugged pulled more of me out from the clutches of a stained past.
The children are beautiful but I wouldn’t want any without you and I can only love me and them because you constantly show me how.
All this time have taught me that some things- special things like what we’ve built- can defy the Constance of change.
I often wonder how little a woman I’d be if you hadn’t come along.

JASMINE:
I have watched you love me in more ways than one; with words, gifts and care but then, I have watched you love us all in the same way.
I see the lip stains, texts, and receipts, and how you steal quick kisses from them when you think I’m not looking.
I have gotten threats from unnamed women who want more of you and forget that you are solely mine or at least, were meant to be.
But I have loved you more, kissed you more, prayed for you more and given to more of myself.
I often wonder what I’m missing and how every other women manages to have enough of it to give you.

VIOLET:
I buckle at the knees each time I hear the sound of your voice or even the horn of your car; my body lives in the constant fear of the shame my thighs face by you.
My breasts and neck hurt from where your canines constantly dig in each time the bed lamp goes off.
My nostrils are accustomed to the stench of alcohol from your breath and my face to the eerie feeling of you drooling all over it.
You’ve become a nightmare as constant as the wedding ring I wear.
I often wonder how long it will take to lose you both.

IVY:
I have watched your dark hair disappear taking with it all the passion we once had.
Sweet names have gone with age and adventure with the fading memories.
A full house at Christmas and thanksgiving keep me grateful but I often miss little things like your notes and tickles and long nights of sweet nothings in foreign lands.
These days, memories and stories keep me happy and not you.
I often wonder if we’ll ever taste passion ever again before our demise.

LEILANI:
I have loved you for half a century and more and you leave me thinking that more can be done.
I have learnt to disregard age because the longing in your eyes each time they find me have never waned.
You have taken with you “all of me” and returned to me “all of us”; something I never thought existed or could be so amazing.
You have become the best of wines getting better with age and more exotic with passing moments.
I often wonder if death will be strong enough to break what we have.

ME:
I have heard all these tales and more, and have dared love once and tasted its exotic flavor.
I have tried to protect myself from the drama and heartbreak and have prayed on every night that my tale be magical.
I have grown to desire love in its purest form and am trying to learn how to wield it.
Now I’m focused on becoming his dream even before he finds me and loving others so that we can reflect God’s intention.
Perhaps in targeting a thousand souls, I will find that “one” and would have enough love to give and room to receive.
I often wonder what beautiful tale is yet to happen with me.
*******************************************************
 DISCLAIMER: The names are fictional. Also, I do not suppose that these extracts embody the experiences of every woman. However, these tales are as true as many of the women you have known.
****************************************************** 

 I hope I struck a chord in you. 

xoxo.
Nazzy

CHRONICLES OF 2015



I know you thought I wouldn’t show up. Don’t think about it; just give me a hug!

Last year was beautiful and I’m not saying this because I feel lucky enough to have seen a new year. It’s true because since I became an adult, I haven’t experienced an age or time in which I had to take absolute responsibility of things around me. I was an independent adult facing life in its barest form.

I had real hard times; not the kind you face because they are a family burden but the kind that become all yours and no one’s. I had choices dance before my eyes, each teasing me with its pros and scaring me with its cons. I was the wind; heavy and dark one some days and light and fast on others.

Above all, I LEARNED TO TRUST GOD ABSOLUTELY AND IN RETURN HE TAUGHT ME THE TRUE MEANING OF JOY. I LEARNED THAT EACH ASPECT OF MY LIFE IS A JIGSAW PUZZLE LYING ON MY FATHER’S LAPS GRADUALLY BECOMING THE PICTURE HE HAS IN HIS HAND. I LEARNED THE TRUE MEANING OF JOY AND NOW, NOTHING CAN STEAL THAT FROM ME.

I faced a lot of challenges but unlike other years, I was joyful and completely at peace and although not all plans came through, the best of Him through me came to life. In as few words as I can manage, here’s my tale of triumph:
  •        I learned to listen to the word and became closer to God.
  •          I kept the best of friends and learned not to underestimate the power of positive energy around you.
  •          Nobody in my family was hospitalized; that hasn’t happened in a while so it’s a mind-blowing milestone.
  •          I found favor with people.
  •          Love came my way...I eventually let it go but I found beautiful moments and made memories of them… And it’ll be waiting at the next junction so spare me the “aww”
  •          I got admitted to a master’s program and a top school in the U.K.
  •          I got a great job in a multinational. (“Great” here is a synonym for stressful and nomadic in nature lol)
  •          I led the choir in church.
  •          I spent a night on the beach…you think you’ve seen it all until the sea sings you to sleep.
  •          I bought new shoes and clothes and fabrics. What? Don’t you know some people are naked?
  •          I wrote more beautiful pieces, stretching myself to uncover more deep and amazing parts of myself.
  •          I ventured into spoken word; I entered into a talent competition, did a few of my pieces and came second. Anyway, the gist is that you can now call me “a spoken word artist.”
  •          I got extra piercings on my ears and learned to love fura di nono. I hope I got that right.
  •          I reunited with one of my best friends and then made some new ones.
  •          God answered one of my prayers with a miracle for the family. Ehen? Must you know everything?
  •          I finally bought a brand new Nikon D Series camera. Thanks to Jumia on black Friday, we can finally get around to that Youtube channel and blog expansion. Please help me beg work to give me a break now and then.
  •          I took a decision to become the “Proverbs 31” woman and to love the “1 Cor 13” way. Without all that last year brought my way, I may not be on this journey right now.


Happy New Year my lovelies. You were an amazing part of my 2015 and I hope we all stay strong, loving and helping each other grow. This year is for miracles and the nature of God shining through us. Make the best of it and do not hesitate to be super amazing with no apologies.

Take every moment and create at least a fraction of your dream out of it.
Take every person and create a friend out of him/her.
Take all that you are and create a reflection of God on earth.
Lace every deed with a drop of eternity; something beautiful that someone somewhere will never forget.

Xoxo,

Nazzy

Saturday, October 31, 2015

DO I REALLY HAVE TO BE STUPID?


I don't know why you're glaring at me as though I'm supposed to be handing you boxes of red velvet cake and a handful of apologies for being absent. Just so you know, I was kidnapped and it was horrible being away from you! But hey, I'M HERE NOW!! *expecting cat calls and bear hugs*

Moving on without stopping to say how much I've missed you guys... *winks*

If I were to get married right now, I doubt that I'd be expecting/scared of "ex boos" as long as half of my bridal train to walk through the door when the priest asks that "who has any reason why they shouldn't get married and bla bla bla..." question. So maybe those people who count EX's in dozens might ask me to keep quiet but...its my blog anyway.

With the much I have experienced in relationships and friendships coupled with my personal values, I think I have come to be very sensitive towards what people say to each other in those heated moments during arguments or fights. I have learned that different people have different red zones and you cannot from the outside, know how much damage you'd cause just cuz your last ex didn't mind being called "a bitch". I am yet to understand how some extremely vulgar names symbolize endearment. I mean I can't even call my female dog that despite the fact that technically, she's just that.

I have seen couples whose arguments cannot possibly be free of phrases like "fuck you", "you're stupid", "Foolish man. Is it because I love you?" Umm...why are you even in love with a fool? Does calling your partner " a stupid idiot" really explain why you'd rather have him take out the garbage thrice in a week rather than weekly? Does calling the mother of your kid "a nasty bitch" tell her why you insist of having a fruit salad every night despite the fact that she just chopped her muscles into pieces to be home in good time to prepare dinner? What is it about calling people names that makes us feel as though our argument or opinion when verbalized would lack clarity without all that vulgarity? I have these two friends who are in a relationship and always lash out at each other in a manner that quite frankly, no longer surprises me. What still surprises me is the all mushy display of affection that follows up when things settle. Biko nu explain how this works to me.

I am of the opinion that love in its fullness cannot be extricated from respect and there are just some things you wouldn't say to a person you respect. Perhaps you could think them cuz you are mad and vulnerable to wild emotions but love and respect are what make you pause and filter your words because once hurtful words step into your threshold, you may not be able to control their effects. The effects they have on the other individual may open doors for insecurity, distrust, lower self esteem, despair and may even trigger the kind of defensive behavior that will lead to reciprocating with verbal or physical abuse.

I have a lot of respect for friends and couples who have heated arguments whilst restricting abusive words to a barest minimum. I do not recall the last time I insulted a friend or partner, especially to their face. And it has made me place higher value on relationships with people in my life; like what we share isn't petty and based on scars from negative words. I'm not saying I haven't thought those things but would saying them solve the problem on ground? I must also add that it increases the respect and love the other individual has for you. We all, in some way, respond positively to love and respect when its given to us consistently.

I'd also add that if you are someone who's predisposed to using vulgar language when you're joking (we all know those people who'd always say "I was joking oo" each time they spit acidic words at others), you may have to learn to curtail it so that it doesn't always pop up when you're truly mad and also be sensitive to the people you find around you. Some people are are not used to being called "thief" or "ode" as a joke. When you are in your circle and if y'all are accustomed to those kinda jokes then perhaps,some of these things can be let to slide. We must also be tolerant, bearing in mind that not everybody has a positive understanding of how these things work. We can try to teach people this things but ultimately, it is unhealthy for you and that relationship if one party just cannot let go of abusiveness. However, with all individuals, boundaries must be set.

I am also preaching to myself because I understand that we all have weak moments and yes, some people are verrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry annoying and it can be maddening. I have friends with whom I go all out and crazy with but when it boils down to it, we know when to get reasonable. And yes, I have stopped being friends with people who wouldn't learn to respect those verbal boundaries despite all the time and patience I spent on them. Let's be civil and let's let love be love and stop tainting its definition with the things we say to the people we supposedly love.
Do I really have to be called stupid before you can drive hope your point?

P.S- Some people really are can be stupid and blablabla but do we really have to be the ones to break the sad news to them?

On a lighter note, I didn't know "virgin" had become an abusive term until I saw these two babes having a quarrel and one went like "See this stupid girl oo. What do you know about life? Virgin! Virgin ooo!" Na wa ooo. E no get wetin I no go hear.

Ehen!!! I didn't get kidnapped by dem big boys oo. I was referring to work and all those real life issues with hands and legs everywhere. Thanks guys for being here.

xoxo,
Nma Nazzy

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

I COME KNEELING

**tiptoes into your day**

I do not even have the guts to come in here sounding all cheerful and righteous. I know I have disappointed many with my chronic absence sponsored by a host of reasons I'll give after I have been forgiven. I probably sound like a broken record but y'all should know that I do not lie to you...ever!! And this is not a lie when I say I have always wished to be more available but just couldn't help it.

However, I have resolved to keep you all in the picture from now on. I will make you all a part of my life; drop prose poetry and flash fiction from time to time, tell y'all about the little experiences and lessons that make the clock's tick-tocks worthwhile and even rant when NYSC and life try to shut me up.

I AM SORRY FOR BEING ABSENT FOR SO LONG. I know I'm not dealing with hard-hearted people so I'll now relax and say...

Wats up lovelies! E don tey...Oh and there's so much gist, I don't even know where to start from.

1. NYSC is coming to an end in a bit so I'm really bust tryna make sure I'll have a living to earn from afterwards. Masters is set for next year by God's grace, so I'm just tryna get into trainee programs and run one or two professional courses. Success doesn't come to people who sit down, fold their arms and pop chewing gums all day long.

2. Can you smell the coffee? If you can't, I'll save you the suspense. The Negrifille Blog is on its way to being overhauled, upgraded and established as a media platform for running several initiatives geared especially towards African women, youth, businesses/lifestyle. A new website is being created for that purpose. Expect new features, series and a youtube channel. Yes!!! And the most interesting part is that I do not intend to fly solo. Most of the features will be interactive and involve obtaining some form of feedback from you guys...Could be thru interviews, reviews, guest features etc. There'll be super exciting issues on both regular and controversial stuff. Full house people.
      I am super excited about all of it and look forward to having everyone be a part of it. I am still considering whether or not to do away with this particular blog..It feels like home and makes it really easy to access a wealth of bloggers on blogsville. Please advice me.
      I will return with more details about the features that we'll kick off with. If you've been a part of this, you definitely have stakes in the new world.
      P.S- Blogsville has its own special slot for a series involving bloggers. I hope y'all will be available because the world is ours and we'll seize it and recreate it with our pens.

3. Matters of the heart have been on my agenda of late. If you like gist, clean your ears and stand on your toes cuz this ine will come like a thief in the night.

4. Durulicious, I have missed you in a special way. Whenever I remembered this blog, I thought about you and how you've been checking in and pleading with me to come back. Well, here I am. Thank you.

5. Biko can someone advice me on the easiest and still very efficient video editing software to use? I have downloaded lightworks, avidemux, wondershare etc but I end up vexing and feeling dumb each time I try to figure them out. I need help biko...Ain't nobody wanna see sub-standard vlogs.

6. I have conceived the idea of writing a book.. Two, actually. One will be co-authored by someone else. Oh and I promise, y'all will be proud of me by God's grace. So wish me well and pray for me. Pay special attention to binding and casting out the spirit of writer's block.

7. Before the new website/blog is launched, I'll grace these pages will regular uploads that I hope will keep us all happy.

8. Welcome my darlings, to the second half of this new year. If you're reading this, you're not dead, and that's something to be grateful for. I wish you all life, health, wealth, wisdom, love and the grace of God in all ramifications. I love you all...

Thank you so much for being here. Now its my turn to be here.

xoxo,
Nazzy

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

TO PEOPLE WHOSE PRESENT ARE MY PAST


There’s so many things I’d love to tell the world; things I know and know not of, things I believe in and things I doubt absolutely, things I fear and things I confront courageously, things I succeeded at and the others that dubbed me a failure. These lessons are like a turbulent tide in my mind, seeking an outlet . . . seeking release.

This is to the children; youth; girls struggling with crushes, low self esteem, annoying mothers, overbearing fathers, ambition, rules and pain; people whose today are my yesterdays.

This is for girls struggling with things mama doesn’t understand. For girls whose pastors say to their mamas “Hey, your girl isn’t normal. You should get her to the deliverance sessions”, when all they are, is different.

This is for girls growing up alone even though everyone around her could lend a helping hand. This is for the girl putting up the façade of a tough exterior when the inside reeks of decaying flesh.

This is for the girls wishing they had what others had even though others didn’t have what they had; for little women straining to make snowballs from the mist.

This is for girls whose backs are broken from the weight of obligation; girls charred from the heat of juggling dreams that are not theirs.

This is for girls constantly looking in mirrors that only tell them that they just aren’t enough. This is for that lass who cannot admit that she loves a part of herself just because all eyes stare at that part with disdain.

This is for the girl who knows but is knocked down every time she dares believe that she’s more than breasts, buttocks and kitchen utensils. This is for the young women who walk faced down because their brown bodies cannot take the shape of an hour glass.

This is for girls whose realities are based on myth and mirages. This is for girls whose tear glands are strained from over-secretion.

Listen!
This is a new year. This is the dawn of a new era. This is a new life. This is time for a new “you”. At the beginning of Joshua’s ministry, God said to him, “Moses is dead, arise…” You are now at that point where God is saying to you “The old you is dead so arise.” This is the point where nothing else matters except what God has to say about you, unto you and through you. This is the time when you become who God has destined you to be and has programmed you to manifest.

Do I sound too spiritual? Well, this is time to be spirit-minded if the physical and all other realms in which you operate in will receive life. Many times, we try to write things like this with our wits and savvy but I’m convinced that what I have to tell you cannot be compared, by any standard, to what God has to say to you concerning the same situation.

If who your peers, your parents, that man and even you say you are doesn’t mirror what God has already said about you, you shouldn’t be listening to them. You must learn to rise above rumors, random opinions and heresy when you are concerned. You must define to yourself who you really are and must refute anything contrary to that.

You are better than your deficiency; that bad skin, bad relationship, guilt or even habit. You are brighter than the depression that eats deep into you or even the failures you have to show for your endeavors. You are exceedingly mightier than lack and the pain that tears through your heart each time you think about your problems. You are simply greater than who you have been no matter the reasons that justify the state of your past. You have the life of Christ in you and are created in the image and likeness of God. This means that all you have been subject to, are now to be subject to your own authority.

You are beautiful   You are special      You are loved         You are wonderful
You are not abnormal       You are extraordinary     You are talented
You are wanted      You are strong       You are courageous                   You are visionary
You are bold          You are healthy      You are wealthy     You are excellent

You are appreciated        You are God’s beloved

Monday, March 2, 2015

INSPIRED

NYSC Camp, YIKPATA.

I sat with two older, smart men today and answered a bunch of questions being thrown at me as though it were an interview. The difference was that they were trying to know me, understand how my mind works and generally, just make good conversation. I was in the mood today. I answered questions I’d usually get defensive about as best I could. Do you know what I call good conversation? It is that talk laden with lessons and a truckload of laughter. I’m a sapiosexual person so sitting in the midst of two men bellowing with laughter and carting away tangible life lessons was absolute bliss. At some point, I mentioned that I am a writer/blogger and I was asked for my URL. One of them, instantly checked it out and I don’t know what particular article they were looking at- because I was on the other end of the table- but they looked at each other and blurted “What inspires you to write?” For some reason I couldn’t blurt out the answer to that question just as soon. I started rummaging through my mind for an inspired response. Well, I think I found one because I started giving them an answer, at least before one of them stopped me short. “You know this is not a TV show right?  What really inspires you?” Just then, one of them read through a line or two and then I realized where they were coming from.

Apparently, they had read a line addressed to mothers and some things I felt they were not doing right with respect to their teenage kids and thought that perhaps, I must have had a rough childhood. That must have been my inspiration. Of course I refuted that perception. I had a beautiful childhood despite the fact that I had a lot of drama with my mum during my teenage years. After a very remarkable discussion filled with practical instances of parent-children relations we had experienced, I left. Then I left and started thinking about what the answer to that initial question really is.

Here it is:
§  I am inspired by the reality that my thoughts, ideas and stories can color a life somewhere. I really don’t care about how it plays out but my creative juices flow turbulently each time it strikes me that my writing could be “it” for someone out there.

§  I am inspired by the stories, tales and impressions of writers before me, especially African writers. It intrigues me that the same heritage, people and world can birth accounts so diverse and rich yet so fundamentally alike. It makes me want to see where I fit in the picture.

§  I am inspired by freedom; the free reins given to the mind to communicate its strengths, weaknesses, fantasies, pains and inventions in any way it deems fit. The ease that comes with bearing burdens after they have been transferred to paper.

§  I am inspired by heritage; the quest to find and define who I am as it grapples with the foreign elements that strive to lay claim on a part of me.

§  I am inspired by my experiences. It’s amazing how some of the most potent words are birthed by reflections upon encounters, no matter how irrelevant they might have seemed at the time of occurrence.

§  I am inspired by love, beauty, nature and even evil. How can I not say anything about a world drowning in tides of tears as it loses its essence to darkness?

§  I am inspired by the thought of being called inspired.

I am grateful to my friends for asking me that question. The year is still young and this is a right time to define essence of who you are and what drives you. Remind yourself of why you do the things you love or ought to do. They could be the answers to the questions you’ve been asking for long.

Happy New Month…
Happy New Year My Lovelies.

Since you’re just seeing the first of me this year, I’m expecting the “happy new year” compliments and of course feedback on this post. So kindly drop your comments below.

Xoxo,
Nazzy.


Sunday, December 7, 2014

YOU ARE NOT SNOW WHITE'S STEPMOTHER


I was at the mall a few days ago and I saw a white family; a man, his wife and son. This kid was cute and big enough to even carry a baby brother or sister, if he had any. However, his parents apparently thought that he was pram-worthy so he sat comfortably as the Nigerian housegirl pushed and pulled him around the entire mall. That’s not the point. The point is that the said housegirl looked scrawny and scruffy and of course very sad as she did her job. Well, that’s not exactly the point again; it was apparent that the girl was not well taken care of, as if the racial contrast and class difference were not obvious enough. I was mad. I mean, what was that all about?  My friend couldn’t understand why I was so irked. Maybe it’s the fact that lately, there’s been so much tension surrounding white dominance and the devaluation of black lives to them. Maybe it’s because I looked at the white woman and saw Snow White’s stepmother. I’m sure the parents of the poor girl gave her up enthusiastically, thinking that having their daughter work for an Oyibo man would bring them some fortune. Just maybe…Maybe she’d be looking healthier if she stayed back in the village eating fresh fruits from trees and drinking spring water just as it flows from the belly of rocks. Amidst my complaints, my friend asked me whether I had not seen Nigerian women whose house helps looked just as bad. I knew she was right but this scenario seemed much worse to me at that moment. Somewhere in my head, I blamed black people for treating themselves with so much disdain that these people thought it was okay to treat them in the same way that they treat their brothers. I was so mad because it was so obvious that the poor black girl meant absolutely nothing to them. Again, I blamed us for saying to these people committing so much crime against ourselves that justice is now defined as “crimes against us”.

Today is not for talking about how our skin color makes us seem like better slaves than CEOs. Or how they think we are better off with no air in our lungs than walking on the streets our ancestors worked on with backs bleeding from the whips of white Lords. Today is not for that. We will today talk about mothers who see beings less than human in the faces of other people’s children. We will talk about a practice that is perhaps even more common in the African society than in the western societies.

First of all, I do not want to see your house help and know that that is exactly what she is, except of course she’s putting on a well-tailored uniform with an apron tied to her waist. I do not want to see your kids wearing smart clothes while the fruit of another’s womb is clad in rags as she caters to your munchkins. I do not want to see your children having skins as smooth and glossy as magazine covers while another’s walks around your house with bruises and cuts from your belt or shoes. No, I do not want to look at you and see Snow White’s stepmother because you know what? You are worse than her simply because you are a real life monster human being and she’s not.

I do not what to understand why you would knowingly batter another in every way that you can just to highlight the already present truth that he/she can never mean as much as your kids (who by the way are spoilt) to you. Why would you see the poor and uneducated as a threat to you and your oh-so-royal family when you do not give them the tiniest opportunity to get to where you were ages ago? Why do you feel the need to see another tremble and shudder before you? Are you Karashika? Oh!! And why have you forgotten that what goes around comes back around? Like why will you treat an orphan with so much undeserving hate, forgetting that if you and your husband get hit by a truck while doing your love thing on the streets, the baby in the pram would have the same cross to carry as that battered maid pushing the stroller? What point are you trying to make?

In civilized countries, the average person does not batter their maid or nanny with khoi khoi shoes or with the buckle of their husbands’ belt. They do not go around buttering the private parts of their house helps with pepper because the kids did not eat at 7pm, after the poor housegirl might have begged them for 2 hours while taking the insults being hurled at her by your pretty little darlings. It’s a shame that among ourselves, we create terror for reasons more subtle than skin color. Even that is not enough to treat another like a creature from hell else everything we are hearing today would be justified.

There is no reason…none at all…that makes okay to treat a human being as anything other than that. There is no justification for maltreating your domestic workers just because it feel right to you. Slave trade was abolished for a reason. I am not saying you should take all the crap that these workers bring with them, especially in the African society, I’m saying that you should be civilized while dealing with them. If you’re going going to spank a child for doing wrong, do it as though he/she were your own. Don’t buy your dog KFC chicken while your domestic help feeds on your children’s leftovers. For the record, I knew a man like that. And please, don’t ask your housegirl who weighs less than 4 boxes of cereal to cart around a child who weighs more than a sack of rice and is old enough to wash his socks. He’s not crippled for a reason.


Mothers must learn to do these things right or else their daughters will learn from them and a vicious cycle would be triggered. Charity they say, begins at home. If we are going to fight for ourselves at the global level, we must learn to defend and protect ourselves at home. There is much more beauty in a world filled with kindness and good deeds that reeking of rancor. I know we all want to live fairytales but I think it’ll be better to emulate the sweet-natured princesses or the gracious fairy-godmothers rather than the Ursulas and Snow White’s stepmothers.
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I really want to hear what you guys have to say about this one. Kindly drop your comments below and thanks for stopping by. Cheers!

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

MORE THAN OXYGEN



It is more than sucking in invisible air.
It is more than the force that keeps the heart pumping.
It is more than flaring nostrils to acquire gases that will sustain you.
It is the romance between elements, and more.
It is the breath of God running through us.
It is more than just oxygen.
It is more than the bi-products of plants
It is more than the gas that flares up fire.
It is more than the air that fills the cylinder by the bedside of a dying man.
It is God saying “No resource is a waste; the plants don’t want it doesn’t mean you don’t need it.”
It is the element without which the soul and spirit would be homeless lot.
It is life travelling up tubes struggling with the death trying to claim the sick.
It is more than just oxygen.
It is more than a colorless, odorless gas.
It is more than just a component of water.
It is more than the 20 elements chemistry students sing about every day.
It is more than the emptiness you gulp as soon as your face rises above water.
It is more than just air as we call it.
It is the power of God made alive in us.
It is the most basic example of how purity enlivens a body and even a soul.
It is the most fascinating instance of God’s love for us, freely given and never ending.
It is the peace of God reinvigorating our being continually; Take a deep breath and tell me you don’t feel it.
It is God’s simple way of saying “I am essential”; If you can’t live without His breath, why do you think you can live without him?
It is God saying “My breath is soluble. No matter what, you need me to be.”
It is the facet that underlines our existence as gods made after His image and likeness.
It is freedom thriving in its most fundamental form, swimming into bellies and exuding verve.
No matter how you look at it,

It is more than just oxygen.

Friday, July 4, 2014

THE MiSt PHASE



I have been M.I.A for some time now. I was busy rounding up with my BSc programme and I’m finally done with it. Four years of pure joy, pain, surprises, frustration, disappointments, and achievements have ended. The four years every high school senior can’t wait to get a taste of when on the other hand, every undergrad wants to quickly get over with them. They ended and nothing happened. The sky didn't turn pink neither did my crush come to my door bearing roses and a diamond ring. I had so many ridiculous expectations but right now, normalcy has eroded them from my head.

There was something about the notion of being a graduate that made us think we’d probably sprout an extra head because the weight of the awesomeness would be too heavy for one head to carry. I thought I’d feel different, have all the answers all of a sudden, have super strength to do all those things I've been dreaming to do and maybe even grow taller. HAHA! But I feel normal; normal in a funny way.

Maybe this is a phase. The platform from which I’d leap unto all those things I expected. I feel strangely overwhelmed by my ambitions. I’m out of the safe net where I used to have all the answers. If you asked me what I wanted to be in three years time, the answers just rolled off my tongue like floetry. Right now, I think of the same question and no words rush to my mouth. I stare into whatever lies before me as those plans, dreams, goals seem like tiny molecules floating on the sea of uncertainty. I no longer have some explanations waiting for me even before I asked the question. This is really strange, really ordinary and I’m used to being a superwoman. Being a superwoman is easy when there are no risks and no black holes furiously reaching out to drag you into them. Here in the real world, all we have are ordinary people with extra ordinary dreams trying to make use of ordinary resources to make extraordinary stuff happen. I’m getting used to the idea as peculiar as it is to me.

I’m training myself to subdue fear, ignore shame and accept the possibility of failure as a natural ingredient for success. I’m struggling to accept the truth in the fact that I may have to let some people go so that new people can teach me things that will open my eyes to greater things. I am making conscious efforts to define who I am and what I want out of life, and I’m learning that this definition expands with every new day. I am learning that I have no reason to let go of who I want to be no matter what eerie voices say.


Everything you feel and have is a tool. Love, pain, memories, fear are all forces from which you can draw strength or weakness. So even though I am having a hard time reconciling reality with expectations, I will find my feet and I’ll stand on them. The truth is that no achievement is an end. They ought to be pre-requisites to achieving new stuff and we must find other things we need to attain new heights. Everything seems as uncertain as the mists, curling and shifting with every second but we must remember that as hours engulf minutes, the forms beyond the mists become clear images. This is my mist phase but I have to make sure that as things settle, I’ll be ready at every point to take charge of reality and make extraordinary things happen. I have decided to have fun and make great memories while I’m making history. Who says you can’t do both? Life’s too short to for every day not to be filled with the kinda laughter that makes you snort or the kinda smile that makes your cheeks hurt. Whether you’re in the mist phase or at the point where everything is crystal clear, be grateful and seize the moment with reckless abandon. Hey, I’m not saying you should jump off a cliff with no parachute screaming “You only live once”. Just let your dreams, hope and faith be incorruptible.