Category Archives: Inspirational Article

The Begging Child

Tell me please…how is it that you speak so well but move in the suburbs?

Well, I go to school and sit by the window listening to people speak.

What exactly is your story little one?

If I start to speak out the words describing exactly how I feel, how we feel, how it feels, we may spend the week here and perhaps the weekend too. However I am obliged by my mates here to give you just a sneak peek of how we survive here daily, how we live just for the day with no hopes of a tomorrow because truthfully, our tomorrow never comes — we only have today.

We come from diverse neighborhoods and estranged homes but somehow we all found a family in each other. I am here with my elder sister — who is autistic and my kid brother. Our poor parents died a very long time ago of some strange illness and our villagers sent us away saying we were possessed. My siblings and I found our way to the big city after several weeks of trekking and eating raw plants in a bid to survive.

I thought that after coming to the big city, my elder sister will become normal once we saw the ‘Man that God sent to Earth’ so that she can take care of my brother and I, but I think my sister’s faith was not strong enough and because she did not believe, she remained as she was. And so I was left with the responsibility of taking care of us.

I cannot start to tell you how many people tried to sell us when I approached them for food and shelter for myself and my siblings and how we always kept running every single day to avoid their angry-money wanting hands but I can tell you how we finally found a home, a home where we all understand each other — this home where you are now looking at all of us.

It was one heavy raining night — when the city of Lagos had gone to bed and people like my siblings and I had been chased out from under the bridges for a cleaner Lagos without nowhere to go. I was very cold but more so, I felt pity for my sister who did not understand what was happening and was crooning behind my brother for warmth, constantly tugging at his shirt. In that swift moment of desperation, I cut my long skirt in half and wrapped her with the half of it hoping she would leave our brother alone but she kept clinging to him. I looked at them with tears unshed as I prayed silently for the heavy rain to stop. There was no way we could find a shelter with the kind of rain that was blowing sand and dirts into our mouth and faces. We ran around looking for shelter in abandoned stowaways and market sheds but at every turn we made, someone else was already occupying it. My kid brother must have seen something because he started running and I grabbed my sister’s arm and ran with him wondering what must have triggered him. Suddenly he stopped, looked at me and shifted back. I knew what that meant, so I stepped forward and walked into the shabby uncompleted building and created a shelter for us all. It was not a covered shelter but it was a place where we could hide by the corners and rest our heads till the morning with the rain still falling on us.

I must have slept off for too long because I felt someone jab me by the stomach, quite intrusively. My first instinct was to fight back but as I opened my eyes, I suddenly closed them because the light shining down at me was too much. I realized it was morning already as I looked up at the young lad who had jabbed at me. I quickly stood up and smoothed my skirt saying ‘I’m sorry, we will leave now,’ as I bent back to wake my siblings.

“Let them be.” I heard him say to me. “Who are you?”

“Nobody,” was my instant reply… “we are not meaning to intrude. We will go now.”

He kept quiet as he watched me wake up my siblings, telling them that we had to leave. I didn’t realize that he had two others standing with him way up in the opposite direction until one spoke out… “they are clearing the streets because of the elections and locking up people like us. Stay for a day before you set out with your people, it is not safe out there today.”

I turned to face who had spoke and saw a young girl just like me looking at us. Suddenly, I realized there were so many peeping eyes from several corners of the building looking at us. I held my siblings closer not sure what next to do. “Please, let us go. We meant no harm.”

We mean no harm too. We are just like you but we have made a home here, and you are welcome to join us after today. Stay and join us for the morning food. The younger boys have gone out very early to get the scraps that the Akara women and the buns seller at the junction feeds to them. It is usually enough for us all to manage till the evening when we all get back from the daily hustle, only that today’s hustle will be different because of the elections, so the girls may go out in the afternoon with some of the boys to see what food they can hustle and I and the older ones will go out later tonight to help with the night meal till we resume work tomorrow, hopefully.”

I looked at them in pity wishing that I could help them all, and then realizing that I was also in the situation, I offered to help. “Can I join the girls in the afternoon…I am sure I will learn from there.”

Take today off and rest. You will need it for tomorrow, hopefully when we start work proper. Get used to the system here. What should we call you?”


And the people with you?”

My sister, Blessing and my brother, Osas.”

Welcome home, Oma.”

That was how I made a home and we grew together in friendship, making sure that we took care of each other at every turn while on the streets hustling and begging and making sure that the 35 of us all returned home safely. That was two years ago.

We used the money from our begging spree to start the business of buying and selling but only three weeks ago, the police arrested Stanley, the head of the house because he was hawking at odd hours. I tried to go with the second eldest to beg the police to release Stanley but they would not listen to us. We pray for him everyday hoping that one day, he will come back to us. We are trying to raise money now to get him out and so we are more merciless with our begging.

Just in case you see me running towards you or towards your car, please remember to put some money in my bowl, it is for Stanley’s bail.


Relationships: What kind of love is too much to handle?

Have you ever felt like you were not loved enough by the one person you truly admire or have you felt that they loved you too much and you can’t return the favor?

Have you felt that everything that the person does should or ought to revolve around you or have you felt that the person ought to give you some space?

Have you ever felt that the words coming out from the person’s mouth are utter false lies and sugar coated words that does not bare deep down in your soul or have you felt that you hear the words too often you are afraid you will hurt the person?

Have you ever felt that gut feeling that tells you, you are not the only one in their life and just zip up before you go haywire or have you felt that you are the only person in their life and you are afraid they will go insane if you leave?

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CREDIT: Google

To what extent then, should you love – even when your heart is bursting with all the emotions and you can’t keep calm? OR To what extent, should you not love so that you don’t give off the wrong vibe?

To what extent, should you hide your true desires just so that in the end you don’t get hurt? OR To what extent, should you accept their love and try to let them know you don’t love them as much?

To what extent, should you not expect or hope for things, just so things do not go south? OR To what extent, should you go, to let them know not to expect so much from you because you can’t love them just as much?

To what extent really, can you compromise on this love thing?

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CREDIT: Google

These may seem like a lot of questions but I was going through a poem a friend of mine wrote yesterday and I just had these many thoughts in my head. So here is my own fantasy tale:

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CREDIT: Google

Just when you think that there is nothing called love, someone comes by your door and teases you with a piecemeal offering of it – you try to neglect it but the person is persistent. So you finally taste it, it feels so good but just when you return to have some more, the person (who was standing by the door) you finally offered a chair, is knocking at your neighbor’s door – so you sigh and close your door, knowing fully well that you have just lost your chance to what might or might not be love.

As you try to move on, the person comes knocking again and this time you open fully wide, hoping that it will stay – at least for a while and it does. You feel good, very good and you begin to want more without really saying it because you don’t want it to go back to your neighbor’s door or any other neighbor for that matter. So you lock it off and smile.

The person looks at you sometime later and asks to look outside your compound for a bit, you oblige because love does not possess. It wanders around looking at the beauty outside and you wonder what is taking it so long to come back inside, so you peep through the window and see how happy it is alone outside. You want to join in, you wish you could but you don’t want to take the first step because you think it should acknowledge your presence and take you there too, so you writhe in pain – waiting, hoping, desiring.

It never comes and somewhere along the line, you close your door to stop the dust from coming in since it has been open for too long. You look out again from your window and wait a while, still watching. It still doesn’t look at you, so you shut the window in anger because you are tired of looking and you tuck yourself underneath the duvet, fighting back the unshed tears.

As you begin to sleep peacefully after days of counting the ceiling over and over, you hear a knock on your door but instead you open your window and see the person standing outside, cold and hungry. You pity it but resolve not to open the door and rather create a shed by the window where you pass out warm blankets and a hot meal. You want to let it in, you want to hold it but you are not quite sure it will stay and you have a huge lump somewhere in your throat that makes it uneasy to ask the brooding question – so you keep quiet and watch it eat instead, as it smiles at you wondering why you spoilt the door – because that is what you told it happened to the door – at just the short time it was not around.

You look at it, hoping that it will get the cue to at least repair the ‘broken door’ from outside to come in or ask how it can fix it for you but it doesn’t and you just smile. You wait for it to sleep as you look at it smiling, singing; once it closes it eyes, you count to twenty and silently say goodbye as you shut the window forever!

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CREDIT: Google

When do you know when to draw a line in a relationship? What kind of love will you consider toxic to you? When will you know that this relationship is too much for you to handle? When should you pull out? What kind of love is too much for you to handle?


Is it rather worth it to have a conversation with your partner even though the signs are clear? Is it really true that there is nothing too much for one to handle?

Let me know your thoughts as you drop your comments below – you know I love to read from you.

Thank you for stopping by!

Relationships: Best ways to respond to ‘I love you’

Most people find themselves in several kinds of relationships ranging from family, platonic friendships, romantic affairs to/or Godly/Christlike relationships and sometimes, there is that need to show and tell the next person that you care – whether you self started it or they did. Either ways, it will finally bee-hove on you to show back that you care just as much and so when those people you have a relationship with in your life say the words ‘I love you’, how best should you respond?

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There might be several approaches to this statement and quite also, various ways to respond depending – of course – on the relationship you have with that person. The scenarios might play differently but I have listed below several types of responses in several relationship types…read on.

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Please keep in mind that it took a lot for this person to tell you how they feel – especially if they ACTUALLY feel that way. If you are not ready to say “I love you” back to a person you are romantically involved with but you do care about them a lot; I recommend looking them in the eyes, smiling, and then making out with their face. A passionate kiss will feed their ego, while subtly letting them know that you’re not quite ready to say it back.

Or you could say:

  • “Hearing you say that makes me so happy.” OR
  • “It means so much that you’re opening up to me like this. Thank you.” OR
  • “I’m so happy you told me.”

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If you’re dating this person however and you have crossed the 3 months wait-line (which is most times, the probationary period in your head to see if ‘this‘ will last a while and not just a crush), the main thing to remember is that you want to appear HAPPY that they told you this. If you seem scared or upset, things are going to go downhill. So here are instances of the kind of response to give…

Person: I Love You.

You: ‘Sometimes I feel like my heart will burst with happiness when you say those three words!’


Person: I love you.

You: ‘To the moon and back.’


Person: I Love You.

You: ‘And I’m crazy about you!’


Person: I Love You.

You: ‘If I could say how much I love you in mere words, I might be able to talk more.’


Person: I Love You.

You: ‘Me too and I’m yours, forever.’


Person: I Love You.

You: ‘I know, I love you too.’


Person: I Love You.

You: ‘You’re the only sunshine of my life.’


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However, if you’re not dating this person and don’t have romantic feelings towards them, tell them you love them too but as a friend. While it sucks to hear that, it’s a good way to let them down easy. So for instance;

Person: I love you

You: ‘Lol, thank you and I love myself.’


Person: I love you.

You: ‘Awwn, now you are going to make me cry. I hear that a lot!’


Person: I love you.

You: ‘I really like you too but just as a friend.’


Person: I love you.

You: ‘You are so on your own my dear friend.’


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Sometimes the statement could just come when you do not expect to hear it and you are thinking of how best to process it and give a worthy response. It may not all be that easy at times but here is what you could likely say if you truly adore that person. So for instance –

If the person is family [a sibling, a parent, a relative]…

Person: I love you

You: ‘When did you become so soft? Are you okay?’ (If the person is your elder sibling/relative) OR ‘You know I will do anything for you.’ (If the person is a cherished cousin/twin) OR ‘I love you too dear one, so what do you want this time?’ (If the person is your younger sibling/niece/nephew) OR ‘I love you too.’ (If the person is a parent).

If the person is a platonic friend…

Person: I love you

You: ‘You know I love you more and nothing can change that.’ (If it is a really close friend) OR  ‘I hate you forever!’ (If the person is a long time friend) OR ‘Awwwn babe, I love you too.’ OR ‘Much love dear.’ (If it is just a mutual friend you met three months ago).

If the person is someone you don’t even have an actual LIKING to or someone random…

Person: I love you

You: ‘What kind of nonsense is that?’ OR ‘When did this rubbish start?’ OR ‘I love myself too’ OR ‘Everybody does, get over it!’ OR ‘And God loves you too my dear.’ OR ‘Ehya…you will snap out of it soon, don’t worry.’ OR ‘Very funny, please shift biko.’ OR ‘Thank you.’

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Other possible reactions to the question – when you actually do LIKE the person so much but you are not sure if they mean what they say – may include –

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1: When you’re tired of hearing “That was a joke. I was only flirting. You really thought that was serious?

Person – “I love you”

You – “Hahahahaha what? Very funny! Please shift make I see road.”

2: When you’re tired of hearing “ I don’t know what I was thinking then. I was so sick. I am really sorry if this hurts you.”

Person – “I love you”

You – Feels their forehead. “Are you sure you aren’t sick? Say it next week when you feel okay.”

3: When you’re tired of hearing “I loved you then, I don’t love you now.”

Person – I love you

You – “and this mode lasts till…? Abegii” upturns an hourglass in your mind.

4: After almost two decades on the planet, several images of previous dates on social media and you hear it from the person you always knew. Please.

Person – “I love you, you’re my only and first love”

You – “I hear you! Linus Linda Mba” *smirk smirk* (Come on, liar)

5: When you really wish to see where it goes and stay polite.

Person – “I love you.”

You – “Don’t say, prove it!”

NB: No, proving doesn’t mean someone has to jump off a cliff for you, that is not being in love, that’s insane.

6: The epic ones you get to hear

Person – “I love you, I cannot live without you.” *Sad face*

You – Leaves. “ Please die before you kill me.”

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I love you is 95% a promise, and 5% a confession, most people never seem to understand that. It needs to be proven everyday, in small subtle ways, not just for days, months or years, but for a lifetime. Period.

What would be your ideal response to the words ‘I love you’? Are you the kind of person to lead someone on with your response or would you just smile and wave away the statement without an actual response? I’d love to read your comments and thank you for stopping by!


007: The Man with The Golden Gun…

“My name is James…James Bond! – Roger Moore [1974]”

So yesterday while on twitter, I read that my favorite ‘James Bond’ character died of cancer. At first, I thought it was some sort of new movie in the Bond series, so I went straight to Sahara Reporters site and lo and behold, the man with the golden gun had truly died. I was devastated! When I told my mum about it, she screamed! I can imagine why, we loved the guy.

Roger Moore was my dad’s favorite James Bond character and my siblings and I grew to love him the same. We had a stack full of James Bond movies when I was younger. I remember my dad would buy us toy guns and nice suits and say, ‘now you can look like 007 – James Bond!’ It was such a thrill in my little days when my dad would drive in a sudden way during our travels making us yelp and he would suddenly shout ‘get ready…James Bond 007 is on the move!’ I remember how my dad would race cars on the road whilst we were travelling and my siblings and I would keep count of all the cars my dad drove faster than. We would even encourage him with constant shout of ‘daddy, go faster…the blue Benz is catching up with you! We cannot disappoint James Bond.’

My siblings and I would grab our seat belts and glasses and get ready for the worst kind of action from my dad, all in the name of playing like Roger Moore. I remember my siblings and I would dress up in suits, pour water into our guns and act like James Bond and M. We would create secret codes and behave like foolish spies, all in the name of acting as James Bond, lol.

It’s a pity I did not get to see the real Roger Moore as I claimed I would have. May God rest his soul.

So in his honor, I will tell you all the James Bond movies I watched as a kid featuring Roger Moore and maybe you could try to see them too. Though the movies were acted a long long time before I was born, my dad kept a box of these movies, so we got to enjoy them as well, when we came alive. My dad made sure we saw all the movies…well, I haven’t seen ‘SPECTRE’, the last James Bond movie by Daniel Craig, acted in 2015.

The first I saw of Roger Moore as James Bond was… ‘THE SPY WHO LOVED ME‘. I remember I used to refer to it as Russian spy because the lady spy was Russian who later fell in love with James and one of her lines that made James Bond like her after he realized that she knew him well was… “Waiter, give James some Martini, shaken not stirred.” I also remember when he drove his car underwater and came out on an Island beach and stuck out a baby fish to the onlookers. Ah!

the spy

The second one I saw was ‘THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN’. I can still remember the song from the movie and the horrible looking man with metal teeth named ‘Jaw‘. He was so tall I thought it was a joke! My dad later told me he was made like that.

the man

The third one I saw was ‘OCTOPUS‘. I browsed it out today and found out that the real name of the movie was ‘Octopussy‘. All I knew it as then was Octopus and I remember it was a lady who was very deceitful and wanted to obtain information about M16 and thought that James would get confused by her body to reveal the sensitive information which he almost did. Jamie sha ended up loving the octopussy. #smh. I wish I could do a review on each movie though but I will have to re-watch.


The fourth one I saw was ‘FOR YOUR EYES ONLY‘. I remember the video CD had legs of a girl and James Bond standing in between with his gun, the legs looked so high I wondered what was happening. Most days I’d study the Video paper to understand the illustrations and how exactly legs were taller than Jamie. I am not exactly sure the plot of this movie before I mistake it with ‘THE LIVING DAYLIGHT’ or ‘DIE ANOTHER DAY‘. They all seem to have mostly the same girls so I am a bit confused. I think I need to re-watch these movies but the problem is where to buy the CD from.

for your eyes only

The fifth one I saw was ‘A VIEW TO KILL’. I loved the cars he rode in this movie and his suave attitude. I remember the ski scene and the incessant shootings. Nobody dies, yeah…I don’t even know if the song is for this movie, lol.

a view to kill

The last one I saw featuring Roger Moore as James Bond was ‘MOONRAKER’. I remember I kept on telling my dad I was going to be an astronaut after this movie. I even said I was going to be a Russian spy so that I could travel anywhere and be anybody just so I can get information for the government. The job of a spy seemed so cool, I just wanted to be a spy already but fast forward to some sixteen years later and here I am, a tiny blogger, no spy, no astronaut, no nada!

moon raker

I realized yesterday that I missed out from watching one of his James Bond series titled ‘LIVE AND LET DIE‘. I kept seeing the hashtag #LALD on twitter following his name and I was wondering what that meant. Only to browse it out and saw the movie. I was heartbroken. Yes, this is how much I feel about him.

By the way when I was much younger, I always thought Roger Moore, Timothy Dalton and Pierce Brosnan were the same people. I just felt that James Bond grew from Timothy, to Roger and then Pierce. I later realized sometime in life [I think I was in Junior High], that they were different people.

I also thought Sean Connery was Roger Moore’s brother because they had the same nose and they had the same poise as Bond men. So when I saw Sean Connery in ‘FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE‘ and then saw Roger Moore in ‘THE SPY WHO LOVED ME [Russian spy]’, I thought “ah why are these two brothers acting the same character in different movies? Why not just pick one and stop confusing people?”

Well, now I know better.

the man with the golden gun


from russia


At that point…they looked the same. Now they don’t. Oh well! Rest in peace Roger Moore. I will miss you.

PS: I had always thought Ian Fleming was also one of the James Bond actors. Later found out that he is actually the character creator/Novel writer of the Bond series.

Lagos Hustle 2 [Suicide mission]

 “The Lord is near to the broken-hearted and saves the crushed in spirit – Psalm 34: 18″

“The wages of sin is death but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus – Romans 6:23”

As a Lagosian, I know just how hard it is to survive here amidst all the series of hustlers and hungry-eyes. Everybody falls victim one way or the other, sometimes without realizing it and we pretend to be okay.

The unending trails of having to find a job without money in your pocket, if you are unemployed and never having to get any positive feedback even after you have proved just how good and capable you are but your family, spouse, friends and society don’t understand your struggles, rain abuses on you and leave you more depressed and you think everyday, why am I still here?.

The unending trails of waking up too early to go to work, amidst the long hours of traffic and go-slow inside a molue, bus, or private car, still having to get late to work and yet receive abuses from your boss and a possible decrease in your ‘salary’ that is merely a stipend, leaving you with nothing extra to fend on or hangout with friends and everybody looks at you as stingy and selfish making you sad and lonely.

The unending trails of monthly salaries that never cover half of your monthly expense but there is just nothing you can do about it because half bread is better than none and there are hardly other jobs out there OR you have just spent too much of your years at your current job, it’s hard to leave and start the search for a better one, so you nag inside and worry yourself to death.

The unending trails of having to start up your own business but you suddenly realize that the Lagos market does not welcome start-ups like you and your capital is not just enough to complete all funding for rent, salaries, tax levies, corporate fees and still help to hold body, so you worry a lot and wonder what next to do about your life.

The unending trails of nagging friends[especially those not in Lagos], who do not understand that in Lagos, time waits for no hustler; you have a demanding job that yet puts food on your table, a roof over your head, clothes on your body and money to share and the only time you have to yourself is half of Sunday and possible official leaves which is hardly enough to gain all the lost sleep and energy but they do not care to understand and so they stop calling or checking up on you and you still hold on to them since they are the only friends you have and can make, because there is no time to make other friends and you believe that years have bonded you guys but they still nag and call you all sorts and forget/neglect to inform you of important days in their lives such as a new partner, a new child, a new job, a relocation, a wedding, house warming and you only get to find out through mouths of others or blogs or papers or news media and you end up depressed and alone because you realize that they moved on without you.

The unending trails of having to get married because you suddenly realize that you are 30 or above and as a man, there has to be a lady just standing by so your old parents, friends, neighbors, family and society won’t think that you have just decided to be wayward and useless, as they say ‘oniranu’ OR as a lady, you suddenly realize that you are 26 or above with your biological clock still ticking endlessly but no ‘proper’ man is forthcoming and every eye brow is raised, curious about whether you want to end up being a single mum/whore whose life is not coherently arranged and because marriage is the definition of success for a woman, you just have to do something fast about it else you get worried, sad and distressed.

The unending trails of having to pay rents high above your two times annual salary but you have a family to cater for and you must provide shelter so that nobody sees you as a hopeless individual and you shrug on because the struggle is just starting and there are still school fees to tend to, an extended family to feed and a nagging wife to bear who does not care how you come up with the money as long as it pops up, so you leave home very early everyday to avoid the morning chaos and return too late just to afford you some time to sleep before the morning rise.

Then you suddenly realize that the world is better off without you and that nobody will care if you stay or go and in deciding what is best for you and everyone, you decide to leave and end the inner pain you feel. Your spirit is crushed, “no one will understand” you say, no one cares about how passionate you feel about your bothering issues, everyone has their issues to bear.

So you look at the mirror and decide that a spirit somewhere is calling you to a land of oblivion, a place of peace, a place where you will have no need to worry or get depressed or distressed or sad. You scroll through your phone and wonder if there might just be one person who will care, nobody! You ponder on it, for minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and finally the thought becomes too strong. There is no reason not to end it, no need to participate in this vain life, everything is now sour, you must go before you run mad and so, just like that, without warning, you end it and leave. You smile because you know that nobody will care not even you.

You forgot that people care about your life, you just have not met them. You forget that you can try again, to find new friends, to find peace within and be happy in just you. You forget that there is a God and He loves and cares about you. You forget that there are others out there, more depressed than you looking for solace and you might be the solace they need. You forget that committing suicide is a sin and God abhors it. You forget too much and hurt us all by just ending it.

May I ask, who gave you permission? Did I give you permission? Did you allow me to meet you? Did you look for me to ask? Did you talk with God? Did He give you permission to end it? Why did you end it? I want to know…why? You hurt me…a lot, you thought that nobody cared but I do…a lot, we could have been friends or even just hello buddies, but you never gave me a chance.

I have pondered and thought on what could have possibly informed Dr. Sunday Orji to commit such action on that third mainland bridge. He was just thirty-five [35] years old and still blooming with life. I mean, at 35, he was a doctor, had a good car with a driver and from all Nigerian standard, that seemed like a successful young person. There probably are a lot of people his age or even older than he was, who have not even attained the height he was or who were probably envying him. Then a day later, I heard another lady tried to commit suicide but fortunately, she was rescued unconscious. Jeez!

The truth remains, no one knew what pain they were passing through or what their everyday torment was. They could have both been very depressed fellows who were low in spirit. They may not have had so many friends, people to talk with and confide in.

This brings me back to this…every one in Lagos, Nigeria and the world especially is hustling one way or the other, to fit in, to make ends meet, to provide for their family, to build a family or to help loved ones who are sick or in need or to just be happy and not be judged for not attaining certain societal expected level.

So I ask; when last did we call up that old friend or visit someone we knew that was finding things difficult? When last did we pray for each other, our friends, neighbors, family and the people around us?

The economy is tough and people are finding it difficult every passing day to survive and scale to the next. Lagos especially is not helping matters, every thing is rocket high and you just have to keep hustling.

Each of us are not less guilty of this. We create certain standards for ourselves, our family, our kids, our friends and even the people we chose to stay around with without caring for the possible implications and when we don’t meet the standards that we have invisibly set, we cry foul and become unhappy, depressed, sad, distressed, alone. When the people around us don’t meet our required standards, we steer clear and make them feel unwanted.

I am not saying that should cause any one to commit the sin of suicide because it is selfish to do that but it also helps and motivate the individual to feeling that after all, he/she is not needed and because there is nothing he/she can do, the only way out is to end it.

“Sins that oppress and bury us cannot be termed trifles! What is more minute than drops of rain? Yet, they fill the rivers. What is more minute than grains of wheat? Yet, they fill the barns. You note the fact that these sins are rather small but you do not take note that there are many of them. In any case, God has given us a daily remedy for them.”

Share problems with your neighbors, neighbors please pay attention to the person beside you. That was why we were made, to help and comfort one another.

Do read and share your thoughts via thew comment box below. It will be amazing to know that this post has gone out to a number of people who actually listened. Thank you.

Because I am a Woman!


Author: Mrs. BMB

I am a woman.

So what?
I get into an argument with a man. He slaps me. I feel the pain. Yet they tell me I provoked him.

I get into an argument with a man. I slap him. They tell me I have no respect.
Like I don’t have a right to be angry……..
So, my level of respect for people is judged by my degree of silence in the face of brutality…..

Because I am a woman.
So what?
I am not allowed to show anger. I must sit with my legs stretched out even if it hurts. I must not talk ‘anyhow’.

Because I am a woman.
My husband or “boyfriend” cheats on me, I am told to tolerate it……to save my marriage or relationship as the case maybe. Society making the barbaric and stupid excuse that ”it is in their nature to cheat”

I cheat….and I am called a whore, if we are married i am sent packing with my obese tinker box on my head and my little one still suckling my left nipple.

Three years later……little one is tagged a bastard.
Fellow women will now tell my mother to take me for cleansing. Then, I will be flogged with a sorry excuse for a broom to get rid of the demon.

Because I am a woman.
I am judged as a good girl if I know to cook, clean and do laundry for my man. And when I don’t know how to, I am useless.
My character does not count.

Because I am a woman.
He is 28 and runs a company…..”ahhh wonderful! Successful at a very young age”.

I am 28 and I run a company “Hmmmm, she is not even married. My dear, marry as soon as possible o. You don dey old” like being successful was not in my DNA or has anything to do with a person’s gender.
Because my life ends at forty

Because I am a woman.
I am not allowed to have wits or be a prodigy…….
Because when I am financially buoyant….without a rich dude beside me…then I am a generous leg opener, “a runs girl”. They never see the possibility that I actually had to ups and downs to get to where I am.

Because I am a woman.
I am raped. Then, it is my fault because the strap of my bra is pink and my idea of fashion is provocative. And if I am way younger, I will be flogged because I ‘allowed’ the 25year old broda next door to touch me.
I am bleeding and sore….yet, they force me to admit I enjoyed it.

Because I am a woman.
My post will be considered controversial….
And everyone will try to correct me.
Because I am a woman.

I am a woman.
It does not make me less human.
PS: Woman……………………………………..
………………………………………………Go and make yourself useful. Our day will come.


😔 Very recently, I had an encounter which I would describe as unpleasant. So I was just learning to drive and I was touring the road with one of my friends (Let’s call her Toyin). In a bid to have a little fun and not just drive back all the way home, we agreed to stop by at the new Shoprite, located at Jakande, Osapa-London, and have a look around; you know see what they have and what it was like. 
So I got to Shoprite and tried to park at the slots allotted for parking. There was this amazing spot I wanted to park in and just as I reversed the car, the security traffic 
guy waved at me not to park there. I honestly thought it was maybe not a parking spot as I had imagined, and drove to park where he directed. Just as I made to come down, I noticed a Peugeot parking at that same spot. Omo, I begin wonder…wetin dey happen?

So I pretended to buckle my sandal while still looking at who had parked there. Lo and behold my people, it was just one normal ordinary man…one human just like me. He was not a director of the place oo, no no, far from it. He had just come to buy stuffs, hang out or look around like myself. The difference? Guy was WHITE! I was livid. I didn’t believe so I tried to give an excuse. I went round with Toyin, we both hoping that car would not go before we were through with scanning the new area. We bought a few things here and there, took pictures ( please, keep qwayet. If it were you, wouldn’t you take pictures? Shift Biko) and headed to the car.
Pleasantly the car was still parked right there. I wasn’t going home till the guy came around…I said to myself. About an hour later, white guy returned to his car. I went up to him all smiles, greeted him politely to which he smiled back and asked “sorry, please do you work here?”
And he was like “oh no…I don’t. I just came shopping. Do you work here?”
I smiled back “Nada, I don’t. Sorry to bother you” I ended as I proceeded to walk away. I won’t bore you of how we exchanged names and started a minute conversation. Bottom line here is, guy wasn’t working there but he got an amazing parking spot!!!
As I was heading back home, I asked my friend…is it a crime to be black? 
This happens everywhere. Unfortunately, racism hasn’t stopped. The norm still is “black is evil, black is bad, black is guilty, black is this, black is that”. Haven’t we had enough of the casting? It is so bad that even when we travel outside the country, we are required to pull off our clothing, empty our bags and go through rigorous scanning just to be sure we are free from all ills. Okay fair enough, since we are going to a foreign jurisdiction, they need to be sure the immigrants coming in are coming clean.
Oya, why is Nigeria now also checking Nigerians? Even inside my own country, I am exposed to such harsh treatment. Remove your belt, shoes, wristwatch, phones, laptops…they’ll say. Open your handbag…they’ll request. Is that even fair too? We cannot own a company here in Nigeria without having one trouble or the other, but when a white man starts business here, he is treated as a king. Funny thing is, we can’t even do that in their own countries. How many Nigerians have any company like Shell abroad? Or have companies like coca-cola, Cadbury, Pz and many others.
The white man is allowed so many excesses but when it comes to the blacks…no freaking way! It is only the black man that will go to school, study 13 subjects all at once and write exam within one week. It is only the black man that will go to school, spend so much money and still be jobless after 5 years. It is only the black man that his school requires him to pass his exams whether or not he has interest in the course. It is only the black man that still maltreats another black man and gives the white man a job, instead of his black brother.
To all these I ask again, is it a crime that my skin is black? I once heard a little boy ask his mum at Ikoyi club, while they were swimming, why his uncle who was swimming at the other side was so burnt? I looked at the uncle, he was fairer than my very self. I began to ask myself…am I charcoal in the kid’s eye? Really, are we the charcoal that God uses to fuel His engine? 
I am sorry about my rantings but I was just thinking out loud. I don’t know God to make a mistake yet I ask…is it a crime to be Black? (This life is just a pot of beans!)