Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. To my credit, I’ve almost almost stopped writing, but I can’t stop myself from thinking, especially around important dates. I thought back to “a year ago” on my birthday, on Thanksgiving, on Christmas Day, on New Year’s Eve, and now, on your birthday. Continue reading
It’s 12:33am. I’m listening to Joromi & Gone For Good on repeat (I know, I know, na me dey do myself sometimes), and for some reason I’m thinking about 1 Cor 13. Probably the most famous part of the Bible, right after “for God so loved the world…”
“[love] always protects. Always trusts. Always hopes. Always perseveres. Love never fails.”
Love never fails.
If it failed, it wasn’t love.
As much as I love kids, for as long as I can remember, I’ve never dreamed about raising a mini-me. I’ve never wondered what it would be like to teach him to love God, his wife, and Chelsea FC (in that order). I’ve always wanted a small family, and I’ve always wanted daughters. Continue reading
when you can’t find the words, but they’ve already been said in song.
Two years ago, on my little cousin’s 8th birthday, he got the gift he had always wanted: a remote controlled helicopter. He also didn’t get to spend 30 minutes with it.
He had been hinting for weeks prior that he wanted that helicopter. He had tried being subtle, then he just graduated to full on shamelessly begging for it. I kept saying I wouldn’t get it, but I already knew I would. Sure enough, on his birthday, while he was at school, I went & got the helicopter so I could surprise him when he got home. Best. Cousin. Ever? Yup. Continue reading
When we didn’t have to worry
Not about food, and not about money
Not about now, and certainly not about the future
A time of innocence, where we could find joy in anything
Simpler times, spent putting smiles on loved ones faces
When we could hope & dream with no restraints
When the only validation we wanted was mom or dad saying “good job”
Blissfully ignorant of life and all it’s harsh realities
When all was provided, when we were sheltered..
“Every choice has consequences.” We’re taught that from the moment we can barely grasp the meaning of that statement. As you get older, it’s easier to understand in real-life terms; if you study hard, you do well on a test. If you break your mom’s favorite china, you get punished. If you tell on your older siblings/relatives, they don’t want to have you around them. By the time we’re adults or at the very least, adolescents, this formula is firmly wired into our brains. Choice + Action = Reward (or Punishment). You do something good, you get rewarded for it. You do something bad, you get punished. But what happens when that’s not always the case? Continue reading
Every major city has an iconic building/monument that just seems to epitomize all the city stands for; Paris has the Eiffel Tower, New York has The Twin Towers or The Statue of Liberty, London has Big Ben, and as for Lagos, my home… The closest we got was the National Arts Theatre.
When I was younger, a lot younger, I had to get minor surgery on my toe.
I had apparently worn shoes that were too tight, and my nail cut into the skin, and the toe got infected, and long story short, they needed to cut out a chunk of my toe (literally), so it could grow back normally. I got a local anesthesia, a nurse sat on the bed and lay across me so I couldn’t see what the surgeon was doing, and the entire procedure lasted about 15 minutes. So I went home with my foot wrapped up as thick as could be, and I was told to come back in about a week for them to clean it and re-dress it.
I took loads of math tests in high school. At a minimum of two each term, three terms in a session, six sessions spent in high school, a conservative estimate would be 36 tests, not counting end-of-term exams, random quizzes and the like. One particular test stands out for me, not because of my score (quite frankly, I don’t even remember how I did), but because of what happened after we got our graded tests back.
One of my classmates was going through his when he came across a question he had gotten wrong. Now this would be fine, except… he noticed that another classmate had written the same answer, and the teacher had marked it as correct. So he took both test papers to the teacher at the front of the class to say “Excuse me, you made a mistake. We both wrote the same thing, and you marked it as wrong on mine, but as right on his.” Again, this wasn’t unusual. Teachers made those mistakes from time to time. However, it turned out that the answer they both wrote was indeed the wrong answer. Continue reading