Date Archives December 2017

The One Who Owes The World

I rushed back into the school premises at a fast pace.
The blinding sun reminded me of my resolve to get a new pair of Sun shades. It was past 10am and my class must’ve begun, having been scheduled for 10am. I rushed towards the bus route going to faculty of law, at the car park.
I saw you, tall and fairly dark. Your eye glasses well perched on your nose. You had you shirt tucked into your trousers with a brown belt holding it in place. The Brown belt still looked good; not worn tired. I looked up at your face again. “Science, social sciences, law” you said expectantly.
Well, then.
Sister, are you going?” You adressed me. I nodded and said “law“, whilst looking at the motorbike lane. About four people were waiting in line for bikes. I contemplated going for a bike instead because I was in a hurry. I took a closer look at the bus.
Ah” I stared you down. “You just want to start loading? No o. No
No, enter. I would be leaving now, enter. Enter”
Obviously not, I thought. I’d be the first to sit in this bus. I turned to look at the bike lane again.
Look,” you said, “your mates are coming. Enter ” I looked back to see a few people who did not even glance once at you as they brushed past, heading for the bike lane. My resolve withered. I needed to be in class.
Two things kept me rooted beside your white bus.
First, I’m trying hard to stop riding on bikes for safety purposes. I began to ride on them only when I became a student in UI and I was sometimes left with no choice.
Secondly, your dressing. In that sun, you looked like a teacher. Tall enough to have that appearance, shirt tucked in, black shoes on, eye glasses with rope!
This shirt tucked in trouser is a serious topic, so let’s branch in.
I’ve been in UI for some years. I’ve even come to recognize a few cab drivers facially. A number of them come out and sit either at their secretariat by the park or under the tree near the drop loading point. The drop loading point is by the route loading to my hostel. Just yesterday, there was yet another argument between these men. They’re loud but I love that they always enjoy themselves to the fullest. The unspoken dress code convention is native attire or a faded shirt worn loosely on some slightly dirty trouser.
That is why, sir, I looked you over. My dad would’ve liked you.
The sun seemed to plead your cause too, as you stood there; A perfect example of a fervent business man. Your fervent plea to people to enter the bus and your argument that you will leave soon, allowed me to sit. I’d been in buses that left with some empty seats before. I sat in the front seat and watched you. Your eyes were focused. You beckoned at each person passing by, “science, social science, law“brother are you going? Sister enter, enter here” you paced. You moved from the right side of the bus to the left. I had two companions in the bus by then.
We waited because your perseverance blackmailed us.
I could’ve taken a cab drop, but I felt I’ll be unjust to you. How else could you make your morning rates if all of us chose to leave, unable to wait. 
We were conscious of the time and of our classes. For you, man must work.
You kept apologizing to us. I offered to pay two extra people’s bus fair, if you’d allow us leave.
You paced, you called. I waited.
I was sure my lecturer would let me in and that I didn’t have much to loose in this particular class.
At some point, I rolled my eyes, I should’ve just left since. What sort of pity ties you down when your ambition is on the line(maybe not that dramatic).
I then forgot my slight irritation well enough to start praying for you. For me too. Lord pls let this bus fill up quickly. Lord, help me o, I shouldn’t regard any class this way.
Where are the people? I craned my neck, I looked back, believing with you that passengers would come.
By the time we took off, with a full bus, I settled in to my amusement.
Sir, your dressing paved a way for you.
.
.
.
Two weeks later, I was watching a video on YouTube and I enjoyed it a bit. My hand hovered over the like button in a dilema for way too long. I wanted to click the like button only because I realized the video had been seen very many times while liked few times. 
I thought ‘let me support this video‘. Then I chided myself. Which kind of support is that? The videos I like keep entering a new folder. I don’t have to like this video. It’s made its impact. It will continue to make its impact if it doesn’t get deleted.
There is nothing wrong with liking a good youtube video but liking out of pity? No. 
I don’t have to live my life like I owe everyone and neither do you.
I know this is a pretty surprising post but it does matter. Stop haranguing yourself over the things that don’t really count.
You love the impeccable conductor? Pray for him in your mind, leave and enter your drop to class. The video doesn’t have many likes but you dont love it enough either? Be grateful you’ve seen it and click on another. This ‘I must like every video out of pity’ thing is uncalled for.
When it comes to seemingly little social matters like these, I love to share because I respect peace of mind. If I am at peace with myself(my right choices) and the same applies to you too, well it’s a peaceful world, innit? 
In 2018, don’t harangue yourself into unnecessary things you can’t help at the expense of your class or something important.
đŸ»To peace of mind, priorities and knowledge in 2018.

Care to share your thoughts? Diverging view?
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HAPPY NEW YEAR IN ADVANCE.

Touching Lives at Christmas 

Hiiiii people.
This post should’ve come up long ago as the registration date for this year’s TLC edition is closed and participation, now impossible. This will however help for subsequent years.

There is a different way to spend your Christmas as a Christian. I assume you’ve been going to church for a long while now, which is really good. Now, how about bringing someone else to church? Not your literal church per se, but to the body of Christ. What better time to do this than on the very anniversary we celebrate? It simplifies a lot of things for you, really. You’ve been having questions about missionaries and their work, you’ve been admiring their dedication and selflessness and probably believed you will never get to do more than pray and give. Here is your chance to evangelize, even for a day.
It’s touching lives at Christmas. It’s been holding for sixteen (16) years under a reputable missionary organization with the headquarters in Ilorin, Kwara state: The Kindgom Project TKP.
This is the concept:

  • You register. Either by filling a form brought to your church or given to you, or by filling it on the website or calling TKP headquarters on +2348088085757 and stating your city.
  • You are available for orientation for 2hrs at the most, on any day of your choice which runs for three, four or five days before Christmas (depending on your center).
  • You get to the converging point in your town or city on that day(Christmas day) as early as 7am.
  •  You’re transported to the villages that have been mapped out and surveyed around your city. In some centers there is hospital visitation, prison visitation and sometimes a visit to a leporasium.
    It’s a way of sharing the good news of Christ with those who haven’t heard it sufficiently well enough to make an informed decision.
    Believers from all walk of life participate and you can be one.
  • There is house to house evangelism after which there is a picnic called brethren’s forum in one of the chosen villages. Medical and welfare services are rendered to the villagers. There is practical study during the brethren’s forum and food is given. 
  • Before dusk falls, everyone is on their way back home.

2016 edition held in 13 countries, 108 centers and there was a total of 6,135 participants.
You can plan towards that of next year and pray for that of this year. It’s a fulfilling way to spend December 25th yearly.
There is also an avenue to give your support financially or release your vehicle to go the field.
Best to check on the website. Www.tkpmission.org.
I pray you have a fulfilling Christmas period this year. One beyond getting a new hairstyle done or new clothes and a good feast at the table. I pray you get to reflect on the meaning of Christmas, experience the joy of it and share it with others.
Merry Christmas and a happy New year in advance.
As always, Debby.
I always love to hear your thoughts. Do comment. And please do not forget to share it with someone.

life and living

Making more time to study God’s word. You won’t believe how there is so much to discover in the bible. You can never exhaust it.
Eating nothing special of late. I’ve been eating the basics and eating it well but then, nothing special. That’s probably because I’ve been putting some financial plans in place and I’ve also been busy. I should try splurging on food soon though. Celebratory food.
Reading Trevor Noah’s ‘born a crime’, Kenneth Hagin’s ‘Classic Sermons‘, Larry King’s ‘how to speak to anyone, anytime, anywhere’.
Wanting more time to read. And more money to buy books. The sort of books I’m newly interested in, are pretty expensive. First up, time to read.
Wasting no time. I’m learning to utilize my time. Shiloh2017 messages are keeping me on my toes so I have no choice. Bishop Oyedepo is such an inspiration. I’m learning to utilize my time doing useful things.
Creating memories. This was hard to decide tbh. Why though? I’m meant to be a creative.Lol. I’ve been drawing and doing artistic things since I was a child. What’s happened to me? Even to write, no desire. Guys, the effort is real.
Wanting a stable academic calendar. I’m tired. Tired. Tired of incessant disruptions in the academic calendar. Were there to be a stable calendar, I should be in 500level now. I’m still in 2nd semester 400level and I have so much ahead of me in terms of my academic pursuit. It is well.
Enjoying time spent with friends. I have this friend I’m especially celebrating. Her name is Samuel Seun. We all have that one friend who is only on whatsapp, no other social media. She belongs in that group. I thus have no links to provide. Pictures though.
Marvelling at human nature. I’ll love to someday write a book on human beings; their simplicity and complexties. Of course, there’d be a good topic . I simply want you to have an idea of what intrigues me sometimes. Our make up as humans.
Wearing a smile.
Following Shiloh 2017 live streams. You can check out the videos on YouTube. Simply type “Shiloh 2017” in the search box. You’re welcome.
Noticing people’s swiftness to complimenting me of late. Lol. What’s happening exactly? I’ve always been this tall, this beautiful. Then, I’ll get to a room and someone will say “oh, you’re so tall. Are you taller than XXX?“. I’d go to church and someone would say “wow you look taller. What’s your height? 6″ what?”. We’ll be told in a church meeting to turn to our neighbour and say “so so so” then in between “so so so“, I’d hear “you’re so beautiful“. Lol.
Loving my family. I don’t even know how to put this into the right words . All I can say is I’m loving my family.
Hoping this new phase of my life is incredible. This Sunday, I’m handing over to my successor in my campus fellowship. We all know being commissioned to serve as a leader is a new phase in a person’s life. Handing over is also a new phase and I hope to explore every part of it dutifully. I’ll be fulfilling my non-executive mandate.
That’s it. How are you doing? Care to share?

26a–BOOK REVIEW

Long time no book review, eh?
I have this condition where my eyes feel so heavy, even when I’ve done nothing but sleep conveniently. I’ve Google searched (why not? this is 2017) and I’ve started praying.
Right now I could just close my eyes and refuse to write this post but then I’d be hard pressed to repeat a post on blogging and consistency.
26a. Can I start by saying I had reservations about reviewing this book. I know that a book review doesn’t mean total endorsement. I also know that appreciation of a book doesn’t mean acceptance of the author’s worldview and all of the book’s message.
However, not all readers know that. Hence my express disclaimer: I do not agree with some of the messages of this book but it piques my interest well enough and I’m willing to review it as a piece of art.
Title: 26a.
Author:Diana Evans.
Publisher/publication date: Vintage books/ 2006
ISBN:978-0-099-47904-8

I love the title. Simple. Enthralling. I first knew of this book when there was a book fair in my school in 2015. I’d gone to Trenchard hall where the book fair held, with my friend. At a certain stall, I picked this book up, glanced at it and snapped it. I didn’t have enough money to purchase it. I simply judged the book by its cover and was impressed (books still get judged by their cover. Forget that English idiom).
Twice, I started reading this book and twice, I dropped it. It was incomprehensible. A world of twin jargon involving Gladstone, hamster, beanbag.
In other words, the book demands your attention. You don’t go in casually. You ask, seek, knock.
The Hunters live in no 26a, Waifer avenue, Neasden. The mother is a Nigerian who constantly battles homesickness and puts cayenne pepper on her Yorkshire pudding. When depressed, she goes into the bathroom for hours, having mental conversation with her mother in an Edo village in Nigeria.
The father, Aubrey, works hard to satisfy the family and on certain nights, he changes character.
The children are older sister Bel, the twins; Georgia and Bessi, and baby sister Kemy who desperately longs to belong to the twins’ inner circle.
It’s a coming of age tale of the twins. 
The book deals with togetherness and separation. Togetherness of a family unit and separation of it. Togetherness of twins and separation.

“and this: Oneness in twoness in oneness- for ever. But how?”

This book touches on identity, culture and roots. Aubrey’s stay in Nigeria is horrible for him and Ida’s stay in England, horrible for her. It questions how far a person’s tradition goes with them

 “Ida had retreated back into her dressing gown as the Sekon Sun had faded. For her, home was not homeless; it was one place, one tree, one heat. She made herself a bubble and It was called Nigeria-without-Aubrey. Her children were allowed inside, Bel on her right, Kemy always on her lap where the lastborn never left, and the twins a little way off, in a bubble of their own. At dinner, Ida sometimes said “pass the salt” in Edo and Aubrey would stab something on his plate; or in the early mornings, she said, ‘at home now, they’re singing.’ She held Edo lessons in Bel’s room on Saturdays, because language was loyalty and Ida was not pleased when Aubrey told her to stop. ‘We’re in England now,’ he said ‘the girls don’t need Nigerian here. They’ll forget It soon enough’…”

It also touches on sexual assault and its reverberating effect; On peer pressure and the loss of innocence; On depression and its every fibre, even the thought of purchasing milk.
One thing that makes this book quite difficult at its end, is that it deals with loss. And no study on loss is ever easy. Loss, is never easy.
It’s reflective of the separation that comes to ties that were meant to bind forever.
Inspite of its solemn theme, lots of pages in the book are exhilarating. I was taken on a ride to Neasden. I understand “it’s good, eve”, “the Apple tree”, “Bessi’s best bed”, “mr hyde”.
I certainly won’t be able to share the good excerpts without revealing too much. We’ll make do with this:

“It was foreign to them, living like this, coming across each other in the playground the way others did, as if they were the same as them, the twinless ones. It felt to them like being halved and doubled at the same time.” 
“Neasden was easier. A little hilly place next to a river and a motorway with nodding trees and one stubby rows of shops. One bank, one library, one optician, one chemist, one chip-chop, one Chinese takeaway, pub, hairdresser, off-licence, cash ‘n’ carry, green grocer and two newsagents, a full stop at each end of Neasden lane”
“It could be the sound of the youngest screaming . Or it could be the sight of the oldest hurt, that makes a woman lose completely the order of things, the sense of past and future and what if, what would happen if.”

It’s a good piece of literature. Diana Evans has a sharp eye that I commend. All the details about Nigeria are credible.

“Very enjoyable, Evans writes with tremendous verve and dash. Her ear for dialogue is superb, and she has wit and sharp perception…a constantly readable book filled with likeable characters; a study of loss that has great heart and humour”
-Independent

I’ll love to have some discussion with someone who has read this book. I judge this to be art because it provokes something that was previously resting.
What are your thoughts? Are you interested in reading this? Have you read this? What can you judge from this review?