SỌ̀RỌ̀ SÓKÈ 🗣️

WRITTEN BY: Umenze Ndidiamaka

Sorry I’ve not been around for a while, just basically needed to put myself together, and guess what!!!!!?

SPEAK UP 🔊

The weeks the Nigerian youths trooped out to speak against police brutality would forever remain notable. While we don’t have a hold of our request yet, the peaceful protest was symbolic nonetheless. It’s a sign that Nigerians will no longer keep quiet in the face of oppression. They now know the power they possess as people. As much as I learned to speak against bad governance, I also learned not to go mute about inconveniences in my personal life. I won’t be disrespected. I won’t give anyone the power to make me feel small. No more will I be quiet in the face of undue discomfort.

While making this promise to myself, I remembered the timidity I displayed last year and I felt sorry for myself. I had joined a fashion outlet/school as an intern. I had previous knowledge in tailoring but the whole system at this place was foreign to me and their process was sophisticated compared to what I was used to. So there’s room for mistakes right? But one of the stylists didn’t think so. She was a nice person but she made me feel small. I was so scared of making mistakes because she would go like “Ha! you called Amaka to come and do this thing, she won’t get it” or “I know Amaka would make mistake.” I wouldn’t know if she did it intentionally or otherwise but I was hurt. And I was more hurt that I couldn’t tell her how I felt because she was superior. I took all of it until my internship was over.

These past weeks got me reflecting on the incident. I felt terrible like it’s happening all over again. But I forgave myself because there’s no point wallowing in regret. At least I know better now, not like I didn’t know that time too but fear held me back. The right thing to say is, I will do better now, I’m not as vocal as I want but I’m getting there. Even if I have to say it with tears in my eyes or a shaky voice, I will speak out against any form of humiliation and oppression in my personal life.

Will you do the same?

ABOUT THE WRITER:

Ndidiamaka is a Jesus addict, fashion designer, investment enthusiast, motherland mogul, avid reader, and Ìyá l’ẹgba’s great grand-daughter 😁

IG: umenzendidiamaka

Twitter: silk and chiffon @amminwa

Edited by AKINMULIRẸ Ìtùnúolúwa Ìfẹ́Olúwakìítán

IG: ifeoluwakiitan_a

Twitter: Ìfẹ́Olúwakìítán

Thanks for dropping by, please kindly leave a comment I will love to hear from you😘

I need you to guess what you think I’ve been doing all the while I was not online😉

😢 GOD KNOWS I’VE FAILED

One of my Pastor Uncle said and I quote “stop helping God to manufacture sins” in church on Sunday, reading from the words of our father in the Lord Bishop Francis Wálé Òkè he said; “Faithfulness does not mean absolute perfection.”

Kindly proceed and read with an open mind 😘

Been trying to be good,
No! been trying to hold onto my tiny thread of sanity.
The negativities try to drag me under but
I’ve refused to let it take me or hold onto me for much longer.
I’m trying really to be the best version of me,
Trying to make Mama proud,
Trying not to allow my background to place my back to the ground.
Trying, trying and really trying hard not to leave the right path.
Maybe I’ve fallen a thousand times,
Maybe I’ve failed and lost count of times but,
God knows it was not from lack of trying.
Maybe I’m still meant to fail a million times more
Yet God still knows I’ll never, ever, stop trying.

Your life is private and personal with God.

Edited by AKINỌLÁ, Tolúlọpẹ́ Joseph TDB

Thanks for dropping by, please kindly drop a comment I will love to hear from you 😘. Criticism and corrections are also welcomed 😍.

BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE

Song for the post: Beautiful people by Ed Sheeran

Like four Tuesdays ago, I posted a write up titled DONE, if you’ve not read it, you might want to, in order to understand this one. It will help you grasp why I’m writing this.

Everything here is actually true, they are thoughts that have gone through my head at one point or the other. People who are just getting to know me now will say I’m proud (when it comes to my appearance and the way I constantly appreciate myself) but those are things I needed to learn and do so as not hate myself because of what others think I look like.

****

Tears are what I know best when I think of this creature.
I wonder regularly what beauty really is
If you see it in others but not yourself.
I tell people they are beautiful
But their beauty never rubs on me
And the brightness of life never gets to me.
It makes me ponder on things God created
And I ask myself if I’m one of them.
I know everything God had made is beautiful
Because he said that we are fearfully and wonderfully made.
I just think I’m the fearful side of creation.
People tell me I’m beautiful.
I try to see the beauty, I console myself with their words,
But still, at my weakest and strongest,
I know deep within me that, I am not in any way beautiful.
People talk of inner beauty,
I tried creating that in me, all to no avail
Am I blind? Or
Have I refused to see the beauty that is glaring to those around me?
The beauty I’ve been searching for
May have, perhaps, been radiating from me,
Oh! That perfect beauty which I’m drunk on
When will I see that beauty in me?

****

Please be careful what you say to others, they might act like it’s not affecting them but it really gets to a lot of people more than they let on. Words like big head, small yansh, I’m prettier than you are, your nose looks weird, your boobs are rather small etc might not seem like a big deal but body shaming is body shaming, I’m speaking from the standpoint of someone who has gone through self acceptance and I can tell you, these words especially when it’s from people you hold dear, can be devastating.

Edited by AKINỌLÁ, Tolúlọpẹ́ Joseph TDB

Thanks for dropping by, please kindly drop a comment I will love to hear from you 😘. Criticism and corrections are also welcomed 😍.

DONE 😊 😔 😕

I’ve been pushing this particular post down for awhile now. I feel if I don’t post it now, I might never get to post it again.

A pen friend of mine advised me to write my success story now, he said I should not wait till the story is sweet but I should also try and put the struggle out there so that people will know that it’s not only the success that really matters but also the journey towards it.

I’m dedicating this to those who feel bad for having done one thing or the other they think or call shameful. Maybe it’s a sin, maybe you think it’s wrong, maybe people even criticize you for it (especially from our corner of the world here) or you’re the one holding onto the guilt, why don’t you let go and stop beating a dead horse? Not to sound overly religious but you need to know that God is all merciful and He is willing to forgive you if only you’d take the first step to forgiving yourself.

Now to my story…

‘Finally, It’s over’ was my very first thought. I was happy that I got rid of it at last. After everything, the realization of what I gave dawned on me. But I, for one, will not allow anything taint my happiness.
Confusion, sadness, happiness, relief, guilt… These were the emotions that ran through me almost simultaneously like it was a relay race with a million lanes. I finally did it! Yes, I did it!
Afterwards was when I realized it’s not really what everyone says it is, for one; it was not painful (at least not until after), two: there was no blood, learnt it was not for all. But there was a void, like I lost someone. I mourned, even though no one died.

Today is Sunday and I feel church is not for me, for I have sinned! I’m relieved though that I don’t carry this ‘over praised’ thing around anymore neither do I have to lie everytime someone asks the question “Are you a virgin?” Nor do I need to be scared that someone might take it without giving a thought for what I want, for I’ve finally done it and I can always reply “NO!”
Not because I’m proud that I don’t have it again, but because I’m glad to have been one of the lucky ones to have been able to give it out willingly and not have it forcefully taken.

Maybe you just need to take a step back and look at things in a different way.

While growing up, I was unfortunate to have been abused. I grew up believing the worst of myself and had a very low self-esteem. From verbal abuse to sexual abuse (that might have come as a surprise to many, even my family) but I’ve decided to let go of these things and look at the bigger picture, I have decided to stop punishing myself for the sins of others and forgive those who have offended me.
Now, I live my life according to the word of God and without any baggage of guilt or unforgiving spirit. The year 2019 was a huge turn around for me: a turn around I will forever be grateful for. Does this mean I have it all figured out? Does it mean I don’t sometimes go back to those things? No! It just means I’m working on being a better person day by day and lettng God do the best He can with me.
Here’s a chapter from my incomplete success story, Care to share one or more of yours?

Edited by AKINỌLÁ, Tolúlọpẹ́ Joseph TDB

Thanks for dropping by. Please don’t go without dropping a comment, you know I love to hear from you😚😁.

🖤 LOVE CHILD

Written by Umenze Ndidiamaka

The write up is not to insult any culture whatsoever but so that we could open our eyes to some realities.

Adimchi has always known his name. He knows he’s Adimchi Azunna on official records. He loved it when his grandmother screamed ‘Adim m’ affectionately every now and then when he was younger. Apart from that, he was also called ‘nna’ by neighbors as this is a general term used in addressing a male in Igbo culture. Adim didn’t know he had another name until form 3 when he got into a fight at the river with Ekene, Mazi Amadi’s youngest son . He gave Ekene the beating of his life as the others hailed. In retaliation, the boy called him ‘Ihunanya Nwata’ as he fled the scene. He knew what it meant, he had been called a ‘love child’. No one had ever called him that since he was little and he could understand the Igbo language. A love child was likened to an ‘Osu’ an outcast in his community. His grandmother and father had never told him he was born out of wedlock. His father simply told him that his mother was late. He got home amidst tears and told his grandmother what had happened to him. That his mother was late was not a lie but his parents were not wedded when they had him. He wanted to know what happen to ‘love children’. “No one in this community would give their ward as a spouse to a love child because they believe that such a marriage would be plagued with childlessness or the birth of ‘Ogbanjes’ if the gods wanted to play jokes on them. The only remedy is to marry outside of our community.” His grandmother later marched to Mazi Amadi’s house and warned his son whose mouth was running like the stomach of one cursed by the gods.
Adim smiled to himself as he heard his children argue that yams grow on trees. His little girl, Kamsi kept screaming at her older brother that yams grow on trees. He could tell that she was close to tears as her voice was shaky already. He couldn’t blame her as would have believed the same if he grew up in the city. But he grew up in the village with his grandmother and father. He lived in the village before he got a scholarship to study engineering at the University College, London because of his brilliance. He is a village man at heart and his wife, Felicia often teased him of being a bush man. His wife is Igbo and is, in fact, from his hometown but she grew up in Lagos with her parents who were civil servants before they relocated to the UK. They had met in their third year at the sports arena. They took to each other quickly because Felicia spoke Igbo too albeit little. Felicia majored in Chemistry so they got to see in some of their elective classes. Their friendship blossomed in their final year and they began to court. It was when he met her parents that he realized that Felicia was not just Igbo but she was from the same community as him, a community where he not permitted to marry any of their daughters if he didn’t want a childless marriage. Felicia would not hear of the ‘love child’ and childlessness 1myth and Adim knew he didn’t want to let go of her as well. After their court wedding, they moved to Nigeria as Adim wanted to start an engineering workshop with a friend. Four years after they moved, they had to adopt their first child as their inability to have children was traced to Adim. He was infected with mumps as a kid but the village doctor gave him concoctions to drink and asked grandma to mark him with ‘nzu’ till he recovered. “Mumps can cause sterility in some men later in their lives”, the doctor had said to him and his wife.I hope we’ve been able to learn one or two things? Pay attention to your health and stop harmful practices, 😜what I’m trying to say is that stay indoors abeg 🙏🏽ABOUT THE WRITER:Ndidiamaka is a Jesus adict, fashion designer, investment enthusiast, motherland mogul, avid reader, and Ìyá l’ẹgba’s great grand-daughter 😁Edited by AKINỌLÁ, Tolúlọpẹ́ Joseph TDB I’ve not been here in a while, last week Tuesday was missed for reasons but I apologize for it.Thanks for not getting angry 😘😁Thanks for dropping by, please kindly leave a comment I will love to hear from you😘. I try to reply comments by the way🤗😜

NOT TONIGHT🙅🏽‍♀️

Song for the post: Sound of silence by Disturbed

To the tired and depressed…

The end of my days might draw near,
I might be confused about what to do next.
My life might be meaningless to me
And the thought of claiming the life
Might have crossed my mind maybe once, or twice.
But I promise not tonight.
Tonight, I will close my eyes
And open them again tomorrow.

Be strong 💪

My palm might itch to grab the knife,
My medicine box might be unusually appealing to my eyes,
The ropes in my room might seem interesting
And darkness might be my only solitude
With death beckoning seductively at the corner.
But I promise not tonight.
Tonight, I will close my eyes
And open them again tomorrow.

If, by tomorrow, these eyelids refuse to flutter open,
Know I tried to hold on to sanity.
But the reality of my life was just not worth living.
Know that I tried fairytale,
But I discovered a dream can only be this long
And a little show of love could have solved it all.
But I promise not tonight.
Tonight, I will close my eyes
And open them again tomorrow.

Your story might just be what will lead another to the light

If, by tomorrow, these eyes fail to open
Know I didn’t break my promise,
But the owner of life came knocking.
He appointed life would be taken at that very time.
But I will not touch this life,
No! Not tonight.
Tonight, I promise to close my eyes
And open them again tomorrow.

Edited by AKINỌLÁ, Tolúlọpẹ́ Joseph

Thanks for dropping by, please kindly leave a comment I will love to hear from you😘.