Posts by Deborah Osinowo

Tunes of Mercy

The Christian Faith 3 Comments

Throat parched. Lips dry, having the feel of plain paper.
She stood before the council and all she could rationally reason out was the fact that a quorum of six people(1*) was all it would take for her to loose everything she had worked for, and built her hopes on to give her a good life.
It’s true she hadn’t built on a reliable foundation. Her empire had been built on falsehood. The niche she had carved out for herself, widely acclaimed and praised as being a benefitial one, had in fact been sucking more from the community, than it had been giving.
Her face, neatly made-up every day, gave no clue(2*) of the scheming she did behind the scenes or the dirty plots she was capable of coming up with.
She looked up and cried in her heart.
“This sin lord, has been first against you before any man“(3*) she swallowed hard. “have mercy on me one more time. One more time“(4*). A tear slipped down her face, and fell on the floor before her pedicured feet in blue wedge shoes.
Jesus looked down at her and needed no one to remind him of:
1* the woman caught in adultery. Her face was blotched from crying. She knew a few men were about to decide her fate and sentence her to death. John8:1-11
2* the woman at the well. She sure was beautiful. Five husbands is no easy feat. “And the one you’re with is not your husband“. Her pretty face showed nothing of her reality. Her industrious hands fetching water at the well, revealed no truth either. John4:1-26
3* the owner of the colourful coat. His mind ran wild in two seconds. He tamed it in the name of the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. He would not. This was a sin against the living God. He fled, leaving his coat. Genesis 39:1-23
4* the strong Nazarite chosen by the lord. Sweat ran down his upper body like a fountain had released them. He pressed both hands hard against the pillars. “One more time, Lord. Avenge yourself over your enemies. Use me, this last time.“. He heard the first crack as the walls gave no adequate warning, tumbling on those who cared for entertainment. Judges16: 23-31

Write-A-Day

Life Diary 2 Comments

The problem


There is such a thing as literary depression.
I have refused to Google search this. I do not care to produce researched facts at the moment. I could do that later- present facts and figures.
Right now, I say from experience that there is such a thing as literary depression. As content creation anxiety.
There is such a thing as reading too much good work on the internet and telling yourself to shut up.
Just how many literary voices have to exist before the world starts to scream?! Just how many writers and bloggers must the world endure before it breaks?! It won’t break? Oh, you’re sure?
Help
What can help? I’m no certified blog consultant, I needn’t remind you. However, you must always return to the reason why you began blogging in the first place – why you began writing too.
You must also starve yourself of unnecessary reading. If you must, starve yourself of all reading for a while. Just write based on your current literary sense. Just write.
I’m going on a personal challenge and you’re invited to join me any time you diagnose yourself of the above named illness. I’ve never gone on any write-a-day challenge, but there is a first time for everything. Network at home is poor but I will write a day. I hope to blog a day but I can’t tell if publishing will work due to the network.
This is impulsive. But when you’re drowning, I believe everything you do to save yourself is always impulsive.

The religion with the best argument

The Christian Faith 4 Comments

Often times I feel uneasy when a person tells me that followers of a certain religion have not reasoned it out, that’s why they are still followers of that religion. There could be some truth in that statement, but it’s not all true.
I wrote this post after a friend of mine faulted a certain religious sect by saying “they don’t really know what they are doing”. I understand that statement and I could have said that a number of times. It however got me thinking.
But it’s not really in the thinking, is it?
Of course, there is a part of reasoning in religion which I do not underscore. I, in fact, choose to highlight this a great deal. You’d find out as a christian, that God wants you to think, a lot. A man I respect said:
” you can never intimidate God with your knowledge and brilliantly reasoned questions. Don’t be afraid to think”. 
You must think. But it’s not all in the thinking. It’s Faith. It transcends the physical, that’s why its regarded as spiritual.
I don’t know about other Christians but I’m a leader in my fellowship and that hasn’t stopped me from having questions. A friend of mine, having said over that there are many questions in her heart, concluded there are probably some questions she would only get a suitable answer to, when she meets with Jesus.
In the same vein, I have had questions which I got answers to already and I’ve also had questions which I haven’t had (satisfactory) answers to. Some people fault the moslems by quoting certain things in the Qur’an that are inconsistent. It may be true to some degree but I want to tell you that skeptics have dug out parts of the scriptures that are also seemingly inconsistent. Some say why did Jesus claim he did not come to bring peace but a sword? And others.
On this count, I appreciate Christian apologetics who have given admirable time to understanding the scriptures. They’re able to give sound answers to the questions about the seeming inconsistencies in the bible. Sound, I say. Not vague answers that do not address the question but like those people that hurriedly wave away doubt from the young believers mind. 1peter3:15 always pokes at me:

” But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts, and always be ready to give a defense to everyone who asks you a reason for the hope that is in you, with meekness and fear”

I long to be able to live that out. Other versions say ” be ready to give an answer…”.
So while we don’t readily have apologetics everywhere, what happens in those circles where really really tough questions about Christianity are asked? That’s why I say its not all about logic. The fact that you can’t give a satisfactory answer, does it make your faith any less real? Following logic, everything in the scripture doesn’t add up.

1 Corinthians 2:14 ” the natural man does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God. For they are foolishness to him, and he cannot understand them, because they are spiritually discerned.”

It’s beyond logic.
I’m not a Christian because I found everything in the scriptures to be verifiable. In fact, I never did such a diligent research.
For this reason I absolutely admire authors like Lee Strobell author of The case for Christ who went in deep quest to know if the gospel accounts are correct. Now it’s said that it’s scientifically proven outside of Christian beliefs that the gospels are genuine.
Once again, I’m not a Christian because I’ve found everything to be verifiable through astounding researches.
Rather, I’m a Christian by Faith. I’m a Christian who has had an experience beyond the normal, which has propelled me to surrender to Jesus.
If then I find a Moslem who isn’t averse to reasoning out some facts in the Qur’an and Sunna (objectively), and who inspite of his/her reasoning, admits that reasoning alone will not expose the true way, I believe they’re probably on a quest for the true God. I do not endorse their believes but I believe they are on a path outside of fanatism.
If ever, a person would be genuinely converted, it’s not because the religion they’ve chosen seemingly has no flaws in It’s followers guide. It could be a safe bet, but faith is much more than making a safe bet.
As an adherent to a religion, unless you can explain every fact in your religion away, don’t ‘jump’ at critizing another religious woshipper who can’t explain. Even when reasoning obviously exposes the wrong in a religion, not everyone can step out of that religion on that basis. Something outside the ordinary is at work. Thats why I say it’s all beyond condemnation, it’s all beyond logic. Christian, let that power you encountered which moved you to follow Christ, let it work in their lives too; that’s the prayer you should adopt as yours.
Logic matters but can’t be the basis of everything spiritual.

What do you suppose? This is quite a delicate subject matter. Do you agree or air a different view? I’ll love to know your thought.

5 Christian movies you should definitely see

Movie Reccomendations 13 Comments

Hii people. How’s the year running out for you? Are feats being made? Goals being achieved?
Well, in the spirit of good entertainment and inspiration, if you haven’t already, here are movies to make the rest of your 2017 better!
It’s my list of Christian movies you should definitely see.
This isn’t a list of the absolutely awesome Christian movies around. No. This is my compilation of a few movies which have positively impacted me, in no particular order:
1. Miracles from heaven. Based on the true story of the Beam family from Burleson, Texas. 10 year-old Anna gets diagnosed with an incurable digestive motility disorder that threatens her life and tests the true faith of her entire family. Discouraged by naysayers, i.e “friends of Job”, Mrs. Beam finds her own faith slipping away. Anna tries to stay strong, but reaches the point of despair. And just when it seems like all hope is lost, the miraculous happens ‘in a despairing manner’, restoring everyone’s faith and bringing new faith to others.

Quotes:
“Albert Einstein said there are only two ways to live your life.
One is as though nothing is a miracle
And the other is as though everything is a miracle ”
Pastor Scott:” Let me tell you, at the lowest points of my life, I’ve tried it both ways: doing everything I can to connect to God, or walking away. And in my experience, one feels a whole lot better than the other.”
“Miracles are God’s way of letting us know he is here.”

2. God’s not dead 1 &2
I’m still wondering if it’s alright for me to lump both movies here. That’s because you can definitely see part 2 without having seen 1. Much more so because, they’re both so wonderful, and I don’t want to give you any other impression. I’m encouraging you to see both but 2 has impacted me the most.
Grace Welsey faces trials as she goes on trial (pun intended), risking the loss of everything she has in life, this because she answered a question regarding Jesus in her AP history class. Any manner of preaching is against school policy and state policy. Did she really preach? Is she on trial? Is the Christian faith on trial?

Quotes:
“I’d rather stand with God and be judged by the world than stand with the world and be judged by God”
4. Courageous
It tells a story about having the courage to be a godly man, father and husband. The sacrifices it entails and how most men fail in their responsibilities. It centers on four deputies in a large sheriffs department and beams the light on their private lives. It touches on different social issues without being judgmental, as we find good men who are very flawed. There is a definite message to it yet it does not feel like a lecture.
Something about the simplicity of this movie draws me in personally.
Quote:

“I have heard many people say, who have lost a loved one, that in some ways it is like learning to live with an amputation. You do heal, but you are never the same.”

5. Grace card
Bill lost his son in a tragic accident 17 years prior and that has left him a bitter man and a racist. His family is riding the stormy seas.
Sam, a fellow police officer has trouble seeing the way forward in life.  He is also a minister who is unhappy with his stage in life. When his path crosses with McDonald, feelings he thought were long dead, being a pastor, get stirred up.
This movie is one of those movies that have left me with a principle in life. The principle is that not only God can give grace, man can give grace. If you’ve had a bit of an in-depth understanding of grace like I have, when the truth of that statement hits you, you won’t be able to withstand it.
Grace can be given without a request. It’s unmerited favour to that undeserving person and we all have the capacity to pull out that card every time a person pushes us to the wall.

Quotes:

“it doesn’t take a man to fight Blaine, it takes a man to reach out”
“I promise to pray for you every day, ask your forgiveness, grant you the same, and be your friend always.”

Did u notice the numbers 2,3 issue? I didn’t want to add a movie I wasn’t convinced about just to make it the fifth movie. I also thought God’s not dead1 is quite good enough to stand as a separate movie recommendation. If my explanation is not satisfactory enough, well then lets have a bit of math. Consider God’s not dead1 to be half a movie recommendation and War room to be another half.
I hear someone saying “I’ve been wondering when you’ll include war room” lol. There you have it. Five.
SideNote: you’ll be surprised at the kind of reviews you have on the internet about some of these movies. Regardless I say they’re a sure bet to getting blessed and entertained.

So, which of these movies have you seen or not seen? Do you have any movie suggestions I’ve not included? Has anyone seen ‘do you believe?’ Pray tell in the comment box
Love,
Debby

To all 'uncles'

Life Diary Non-Fiction 7 Comments

I was enroute Ilorin from Ibadan. I got a seat at the back of the sienna vehicle.
When I got to the park, only two passengers were needed to fill up the vehicle, I was one of the two. The last person to come was a student, clothed in his uniform. He seemed like a person of Fulani descent. He also appeared to be going to the boarding house with the number of bags that trailed him. His mother and uncle pleaded that the driver accept 300 naira for his extra luggage in the boot. His mother came to the window and bent close, waving at him, she didn’t forget to give him an instruction. Does any mother forget?
At this stage, the third person sitted at the back seat became an ‘uncle’. I was at the extreme left, the student in between and the unclen at the right.
“What school do you go to?” he asked.
The student responded. He was probably in senior class; he seemed tall enough and he wore a pair of trousers as opposed to shorts.
We were five minutes into the journey and the young chap was watching a movie on his phone.
I requested to, and prayed aloud, as the bus took off. As expected, not everyone said an ‘amen’. Uncle said amen, however. Loud amens. Thank you.
Let’s get a bit of background about uncle. Uncle got to the vehicle before I did. Whe I got there, he was angry. As he complained loudly in Yoruba language about the poor state of all the vehicles these days, he complained also about the time-wasting driver and his colleagues. He complained loudly that he hadn’t been given his change yet. 
You’d get a better picture when you imagine those people who complain aloud although they have no audience, those who have perfected the art of it. I thus, had no clue he was a Christian.
Thank you all the same for saying amen to the prayers. It was a smooth car ride.
So, the supposed Fulani student watching the movie laughed. I imagine the movie must have been hilarious. Uncle spoke up.
“Do you know you can download your textbooks on your phone and read?” Uncle’s eyes darted about unsure as he said that.
The student nodded, probably thinking ‘thanks for your kind thoughts’. But kind thoughts were no where being over. It made uncle sure that textbooks could be downloaded. Cue the longest speech ever recited.
“Instead of these movies you’re seeing, reading your books will do you good… You will be a first-class student. You’ll compete against not only students in Nigeria but world students…you’ll not concern with the state of Nigeria…there are jobs, oh there are jobs…that way you’ll live well… do your parents proud…do you know…in fact, there was… how many people…?” he went on. Believe me, he went on.
At the commencement of the speech, I had thought, ‘oh great, he must be a teacher, who is glad to find another erring student he can put on the right track’. Later, I doubted it. This was simply a desire to speak.
A fair-skinned lady who sat in front, who had said no amen to my prayers, turned back to stare at uncle reciting his impromtu speech, then she faced front. Later, she would bring out her small bible and read. So we’re fellow Christians? You said no amen.
Others also had to turn and stare at some point.
Uncle had a bible placed on his laps which he didn’t read. At some point during his speech, he left talk of the academics, and went into spirituality, talking about God. His voice loud and intrusive. I wondered if this was an approach to preaching.
At a point, all we could think ( I can boldly lay claim to reading everyone’s mind) was that, ‘uncle you’ve tried’, ‘Uncle remember “half a word is enough for the wise” ‘, ‘Uncle please, uncle please’.
His speech finally ended.
The boy told him “Thank You” and clicked the play button on his phone. This time, I imagine he held any laughter prompted by hilarious scenes to himself. But he saw the movie as he desired.
Variants of uncle show up at different locations, and at different times, under different citcumstamces.
 To all uncles, please learn that your first sermon is your appearance. Uncle’s burning anger was a longer speech than the one he tried to give the young boy verbally. I know someone who describes herself as a ‘complainer’. Don’t. It may seem a honest enough description of your person. I advise you shouldn’t be content with being a complainer. Have you ever heard:




 “if you have nothing good to say, say nothing”


 I work by that principle. If you’re presenting a constructive comment to the wrong party, that’s fair enough. I do that. If your aim, as clearly evidenced, is to make your audience aim and achieve better than the party which did wrong, that’s fair enough. I do that. But stop being the complainer. The person who says “i just have no chill”.
Uncle, respect younger people too. My younger sister has been giving me gist of what goes down at her secondary school. One thing I also often recollect about my time in secondary school, is how a number of teachers did not understand that students are humans. Students have feelings. You are not permitted to treat students how you wouldn’t treat other adults. They’re intelligent beings.
 One of Ifemelu’s opinion in the book Americanah by Chimamnda Ngozi Adichie, was that aunty Uju was the only adult who treated her like her opinion mattered. And she loved aunty Uju.
Be that person who draws respect from students, not only because you’re older but because you deserve it. Don’t tie down a young student’s time in your own interest.
Respect other people’s time and wishes. There is this tweet I saw on twitter:




I wish for you, sincerely, to take your time but that doesn’t mean waste mine”


Uncle did not listen to the student. He probably meant well, which I credit but then he thought he could give his long winding opinion on education and Nigeria for as long as he pleased. Make your point known, keep silent. Respect people’s personal space, existence and wishes. 
Don’t be that other guy who entered the same taxi I did just the day before I travelled. He claimed he wanted to be my friend. He saw I was busy with my phone. I greeted him and politely told him I was busy. He wouldn’t let me be. He said “don’t you want me to be your friend?” Really? “Tell me your name naw” it was irritating. More irritating, because it reminded me of those who bugged me tirelessly in taxis while I was in secondary school. They saw a young girl and felt they could talk as they please. No you can’t. She is a human being, she may be young and beautiful but don’t badger her! Don’t be that person. I asked this guy, this time not politely, what kind of friend he would turn out, if he couldn’t respect my wishes now. I’m busy! And I did that for all the times I was troubled as a teenager.
Uncle, you mean well. Whatever your own case may be, but please learn courtesy. 
The bible says in Romans 14:16




Do not allow what you consider good, to be spoken of as evil



What do you think? ever done the same? Any experience with someone who would not respect other people’s feelings? Or other people’s time? Regardless of their age. I want to hear your thoughts.

A Phone Call

Fiction

A man ran by, panting hard. The end of his oversized red shirt flying in the wind, as the air from the cross ventilation and ceiling fan mingled in the room, the force came close to being outdoor.
He ran with a slightly open mouth and by all indications, was out of breath.
As he pounced through the room and out the opposite swing door, we all looked up from our computers.
Bodies worn out from sitting for so long, bodies bent over computers while creating models, we couldn’t care less at this point.
Five minutes later, two men ran right back with this same man.
A minute later, a fat, dark complexioned woman entered speaking loudly and rapidly on the phone, not glancing once at those of us at sitted.
“Yes, call the fire services. Call them” a pause. “Okay, call abefele. Just call somebody. Ehn… They should come down to the department of computer science” she said, all in the one minute it took her to waggle through the room.
At this point, nobody could face their laptops again. We all looked at the back door, as though it would become transparent in the very next second and let us in on the cause of commotion.
Tobi stood up from his chair and stretched as he grinned playfully.
“Break time?”
Working in that room over the past month with the other M.sc students had been slightly interesting. We formed a good bond in between frowning at incomprehensible samples on our computers and having group dicussions.
We often had our break time twice in a day. The first was to eat late breakfast from “all food cafeteria” just across the open yard. The woman made the best amala on campus. She made me ignore my belief that solid food shouldn’t be eaten in the morning or noon time.
The second break consisted of eating roasted or boiled corn while some others took a nap.
Mercy, who was sitted beside me, stood up and went out the screen door at the back, all alone. The rest of us also inched to the door. I did so unsure. There was no window overlooking the back that we could have gazed through.
The back door to that room opened to a collonade. Across, was the “all food cafeteria”. At the back of our own work station block, was another block of rooms.
We walked down some more, till we got to an old store which overlooked a stream. Some of the water from Odua dam still ran down to that place. It was surrounded by overgrown grass.
The men and the woman we had seen previously, were gathered together. They all glanced back at us when they heard foot falls. They jumped a bit. Or perhaps paranoia was already setting in for me.
There was something they had previously been gazing at on the floor.
It was an human body . I didn’t know how to feel or what to think. A body. I was often told of things like that, I never witnessed them.
We didn’t know if to go any closer, there was no assistance any of us could offer, so we remained a safe distance away.
Two school security officers dressed in their maroon coloured uniform appeared from around the building where we came from.
They went forward and asked who she was as they bent to inspect the body without touching it.
Men clothed in fire fighters garb came almost immediately too. There were about six of them. I instinctively moved further away. I thought it was best for us to leave at that time.
The wind blew harder and soon it was blowing real hard and the clouds were gathering. The clouds moved visibly in the exact manner I loved as a child.
I would glance up at the sky whenever it threatened to rain. I loved when the clouds were impatient and revealed their otherwise secret manner of floating by. I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed watching it.
Helen did.
As one of the fire fighters bent by the body to turn it, the slightly brown shade of relaxed hair began to strike me as familiar. The wet clothes clung to her body, she must’ve been drawn out of the water. I couldn’t shake off the goosebumps that rose on my body. Her body form was too familiar. I was feeling sick.
I didn’t think I could turn back and leave all alone. I didn’t think I could trust my voice to ask my friends to leave with me either. I just stayed there and willed it to rain. Anything. My body was slipping to another time and moment, hearing another voice.
Something out of the ordinary was happening to me.
The man turned the body and it was a different face.
Not regarding that, my goosebumps remained, even long after we had been asked to leave.
That night, I slept fitfully; plagued by dreams I forgot as soon as I woke up, and a cough which I had suddenly developed.
I sat up and checked the time on my phone. 2:54am.
There was a time in Jss2, our English teacher, Mrs John, had come to class and in a burst of  quirkiness, requested that the twins in the class come forward to share with the class what it was like, to be twins.
I had been at a loss of what to say, due to the suddeness. Helen spoke up though, and soon everyone was laughing, and gazing on us steadfastly the way I imagine the crowd was often gazing at Jesus.
I swiped open my phone and punched in a phone number I still knew by heart.
“Hello” She breathed, more than said. “Irene?”
“Helen” I said. ” I thought you’d be sleeping”
“I was. I stirred and saw your number on the screen of my phone”
“oh. It’s been long enough, hasn’t it?”
We were silent until she said “wow. That’s it.”.
I sighed. Time crawled.
“There were days, Irene, there were days. Days when I wondered when you would do as Kainene did. Why didn’t you?”

“I’m doing so now” I closed my eyes, beads of perspiration formed on my skin. Among us, I had never been the one for many words. “I’m sorry it took so long”

Ever simple, she said “Our own grandfather never made such a profound sentence like theirs did. Let’s blame grandpa.” I involuntarily chuckled as she said this. I could picture her smiling at that.
“Some things do change your perspective though, it doesn’t matter how many sage counsels you recieve.”.

“Kainene and Olanna waited for a war.”I could read her mind and I knew she would never ask me what ours was, even though she longed to know. Why I would speak to her after so long.
All I could tell was it was over now. Over. We could now continue in our telepathic ways. she could now be the Helen to my Irene again. The freedom that came from that knowledge allowed me to chuckle. Then I laughed, and it emanated from deep within my chest, a million constricting bubbles dispelling. Constrictions permanently gone.
—————–
Make that phone call today. You know you need to.

Life and books!

Life Diary Other Book Details

​There is a place that gives me hope. That makes me certain that’s where I belong. Isn’t it time to reconsider some things? To write?” 

This was my thought which I penned down after re-reading purple hibiscus. I felt I was in the inner caucus of literally conscious people. Those who read, recognize and respect brilliant statements and plots. There are times I read genius pieces of work or simply a profound sentence and all I can wonder on is, if other people would understand what I just read to be exclusively brilliant. 
For some people, a story is a story. Shame. For some people, an overly dramatic dialogue is a story( all those episodes of ‘stories’ that run on whatsapp as broadcast messages). Ignorance ( I’m not disputing that those write-ups have their place in the world but a good story, fiction is a whole lot more than that). For some people, story is a waste of time. In response to that, I’ll hold my peace. Or perhaps answer you by saying, Jesus told stories.
Welfare.
I’ve been well. Pushing through the days with more knowledge. A few moments of precious and incomparable exclusiveness with God. Times of combing through books too. 
I recently completed Frank Peretti’s the visitation ( quite lengthy) and I’m reading 26A by Diana Evans, for fiction. 
In terms of Christian literature, I’m in between a million books. What I often do is read necessary chapters from them. My holiday has been cut short and that has destabilized my reading plans. These are the ones I’ve focused on however: I’ve read from E.M Bounds on Prayer (this is the combination of all seven books he has written on the subject matter of prayer). I’ve read from Phillip Yancey’s The Jesus I never knew ( I got propelled to return to this book after completing the visitation ). I’ve also been reading Watchman Nee’s secret to spiritual power .
I’m constantly reading articles from around the web.
I’m enjoying Afoma’s book’d series.
I recently got intrigued by Uche Okonkwo‘s simplicity in writing. 
By the way, I feel I should  pursue knowledge on the art of being an editor.
☺okay, this is a simple way of letting you know I’ve resumed blogging again. Exams got nothing on me. Before I say bye, I enjoyed this two quotes this week and I think you would too:

If Jesus had never lived we would not have been able to invent him                                 -Walter Wink
When i saw you, I fell in love and you smiled because you knew                                                                                                     -Aerigo Boito

Okay, have a wonderful week. Come back to read some more posts!
As always, love, 
Debby.

Book Review– NERVOUS CONDITIONS

Book Reviews 2 Comments

Hiiii people! I’m back.
I hope you’re well. I’m not very familiar with writing expository blog posts so I’ve been extra patient with the one I’m working on which hopefully should be up by next week.
For now, it’s another book review.
I got this book as a birthday present from my friend, Chizaram, who blogs here. I judged the book by the cover and decided it should sit out on my bookshelf for a while. Ignorance.
Title: Nervous Conditions
Author: Tsitsi Dangaremgba
Publisher and publishing date: Ayebia Clark publishing Ltd UK 2004
1st published by the women’s press Ltd, UK. 1988
ISBN:978-0-9547023-3-5
I finally got around to reading it and I rejoice today, that I did. Let me just say this: there are a million good African writers out there.
I’ll start by saying this book is easy to identify with, from my perspective. I was mentally nodding as I read it. References to village life, relationship with extended family members in African countries, for instance, were absolutely familiar. It was a smooth sailing, no difficulties getting into the book. The setting of the book is in the 1970s and in Zimbabwe.
In this book, the protagonist, Tambudzai, in first person narrative addresses a person we do not know.
The language is clear and convincing. I partcularly love the author’s use of metaphor. I love the way she describes and evokes familiar feelings in the characters.
This story is about the struggles Tambudzai faces which her society classifies as being black, being poor, being illiterate, and being female.

“And these days it was worse, with the poverty of blackness on one side and the weight of womanhood on the other. Aiwa! What will help you my child, is to learn to carry your burdens with strength”

She is confronted with the walls of expectation and limitation that have been set around her.
Her brother, Nhamo, is singled out for the honour of education at the missions by their uncle. He soon changes in behaviour and dislikes the homestead and returning when on holidays. Tambu on the other hand, loves her home and begins to develop a headache when her brother is around especially since her brother, much like her father believes education isn’t for women.
Tambu, inspite of the odds, decides she will go to school. Tambudzai isn’t a person made to sit at the kitchen obeying, when she has a dream of her own. She puts in extra determination and coupled with sheer luck gets the money to go to school for SUB A and SUB B.
Opportunity comes knocking through Babamukuru, her uncle, who sponsors her to study at the missions too.
Her arrival at the missions, exposes her to other realities of life, it challenges her worldview and she is tempted, as a result, to leave things in a knot and not see the end of it.
The main characters are Tambu, Nyasha, Maiguru, Babamukuru, Tambu’s father and mother and Lucia.
The characters are credible.
The female characters are potrayed to illustrate different possibilities.

” …my story is after all not about death, but about my escape and Lucia’s: about my mother’s nd Maiguru’s entrapment: and about Nyasha’s rebellion…”

The characters run into problems- lots of them. Tambu is conflicted with the differences between her confident and strong-willed personality at the homestead and her quick-to-please personality at the missions.

“Whereas in the years since I went back to school, I had let events pass me by as long as they did not interfere too deeply with my plans,  the way Nyasha responded to challenges reminded me of the intensity and determination with which I lived my early years. I became embarrassed over my acquired insipidity but I did not allow myself to agonize over it…”

“My vagueness and reverence for my uncle, what he was, what he had achieved, what he represented and therefore what he wanted had stunted the growth of my faculty of criticism, sapped the energy that in childhood I used to define my own position. I would not have been here if I had not been able to stand up to my own father, yet now I was unable to tell my uncle that his wedding was a farce…”

Nyasha on the other hand, faces the hurdles of challenging her father’s authority which is vastly worshipped by every other person. She faces the non-conformity of her mind to popular ideals. She also faces head on, the apparent yet subtle war against females by reason just of their being females.

“‘You know, Tambu,’ she began again painfully, ‘I guess he’s right, right to dislike me. It’s not his fault, it’s me. But I can’t help it. Really, I can’t. He makes me so angry. I can’t just shut up when he puts on his God act. I’m just not made that way. Why not? Why can’t I just take it like everybody else does? I ought to take it, but really, I can’t.'”

If I had to state my favourite character, it would be Maiguru, Nyasha’s mother. The themes of feminism and  colonialism are strong. Carole Boyce Davies has this to say:
“Nervous Conditions brings to the politics of decolonization theory the energy of women’s rights. By now, a classic in African literature and black women’s literature, Nervous Conditions is a must for anyone wanting to understand voice, memory and coming of age for young black women in Africa”
I love this book.
I’ll recommend it to everyone for the purpose of getting a little more perspective.
I also want to share a quick excerpt of an interview with the author at the end of the book:
“INTERVIEWER:You are a generous author in that everyone in nervous conditions is given a chance to explain or to be explained. It seems there are no monsters in your book, only humans and so no clear moral ground. Why did you employ this strategy?
THE AUTHOR: I employ this strategy so that many different categories of people can find something to identify with in the book- also because the situation of the characters is very complex. One can hold a person responsible for reacting to a situation in a certain way, but the situation that exerted the pressure to behave in that way must also be adressed”. 
(I put the words in bold for emphasis sake)
I rate it 4.5 out of 5 stars.
Excerpts:

“… and thinking how dreadfully familiar that scene had been, with babmukuru condemning Nyasha to whoredom, making her a victim of her femaleness, just as I had felt victimized at home in the days when Nhamo went to school and I grew my maize. The victimization I saw was universal. It didn’t depend on poverty, on lack of education or on tradition. It didn’t depend on the things I thought it depended on. Men took it everywhere with them. Even heroes like babmukuru did it and that was the problem…but what I didn’t like was the way all the conflicts came back to this question of femaleness. Femaleness as opposed to and inferior to maleness”

 
 

“Their praise made me feel better. It made me feel good. My confidence returned…the idea made me feel so superior, so wholesome and earthy, like home-baked cornbread instead of the insubstantial loaves you bought in shops, that I helped to cook the sadza well”

 
 

“ ‘I know’ she interrupted. ‘it’s not England anymore and I ought to adjust. But when you’ve seen different things, you want to be sure you’re adjusting to the right thing. You can’t go on all the time being whatever’s necessary. You’ve got to have some conviction, and I’m convinced I don’t want to be anybody’s underdog. It’s not right for anyone to be that. But once you get used to it, well, it just seems natural, you just carry on. And that’s the end of you. You’re trapped. They control everything you do’

 
 

” ‘Ma’chido,’ Babmukuru was saying pacifically, ‘these are not good words’
‘No, they are not‘ Maiguru retorted recklessly ‘but if they are not good things to be said, then neither are they good things to happen. But they are happening here in my home‘ “

 
 

” there was a pause during which Maiguru folded her arms and leaned back in the sofa. ‘ I don’t think‘, she began easily in her soft soothing voice, ‘ that Tambudzai will be corrupted by going to that school. Don’t you remember, when we went to South Africa everybody was saying that we, the women, were loose.’
Babmukuru winced at this explicitness. Maiguru continued ‘it wasn’t a question of association with this race or that race at that time. People were prejudiced against educated women. Prejudiced. That’s why they said we weren’t decent. That was in the fifties. Now we are into the seventies. I am disappointed that people still believe the same things. After all this time and when we have seen nothing to say it is true. I don’t know what people mean by a loose woman-sometimes she is someone who walks the streets, sometimes she is an educated woman, sometimes she is a successful man’s daughter or she is simply beautiful. Loose or decent, I don’t know. All I know is that if our daughter Tambudzai is not a decent person now, she will never be no matter where she goes to school. And if she is decent, then this convent should not change her. As for money, you have said yourself that she has a full scholarship. It is possible that you have other reasons why she should not go there. Babawa Chido, but these- the question of decency and the question of money- are the ones I have heard of and so these are the ones I have talked of’.
There was another pause during which Maiguru unfolded her arms amd clasped her hands in her lap.

 
Books, freedom,
Debby

Life update

Life Diary 5 Comments

I’m happy. Happy for no little reason. Perhaps I should say joyful then. It’s that joy that propels this post.
It’s been a terrible hiatus from this blog, I agree. I’ve had to deal with lots of things. (check this post on life and blogging.)I also find it hard to write unless I’m in some certain frame of mind. I’m working on that.
I spoke with a friend today and I felt refreshed. I know it’s God’s doing, really. We prayed together. Previously, I had felt strange in my own skin. Feelings are never meant to dominate our lives.
One of the things that conveniently kept me off this blog was my knowledge of the fact that I’ll have to write a personal update when i do write.
Reluctance to write about myself and how I’m faring shows I’ve chosen to not be vulnerable. Shows I’ve chosen to hide my flaws and victories.
Lol, now where do I start from? I dare not try to remember every detail since I last blogged or gave a personal update. Let me work with this past week.
Side-note: I feel like my writing voice is really fast and giddy today.
On Sunday, I was wondering when I’ll have a photo shoot. It’s not funny really. I’m a young adult, things like this characterise youth. What pictures am I going to show my children and grand children other than phone camera selfies?? It’s my friend’s fault. He dashed my hopes of having a friendly photo shoot. I’d say no more on this subject. Partly because no one can stop me from having my pictures taken if I really want to. ?
On Monday, I had quite a busy day. I had two tests and well, great faith that they would turn out well.
After classes, I had to buy the honorarium for the minister honouring our invite to discipleship meeting in fellowship. I then joined in the prayers, then I participated in the discipleship meeting, after which I waited for bible study preview. I got back to my hostel right at 11pm. I ate and slept.
Tuesday came along and I was hungry but I had to fast on two counts, none of which was personal. If you haven’t, read up my post on fasting here. I was delighted I did in the end. Tuesday evening; my unit went on visitation to two halls of residence. I met with fellowship members and encouraged them and I witnessed to a Moslem. I had never met a Moslem that ready to listen before. He didn’t accept Christ but gave me his phone number for further contact so he can make an informed decision when he does make it.
Wednesday was good. I caught up on a certain magazine I had been reading. I also had a refreshing time at the weekday fellowship.
On Thursday I felt sour. I woke up late and missed a meeting I had planned to be present at. Ugh, downward spiral. I had a battle with feelings, I prayed and wasn’t better. I met up with a friend and we spoke together then prayed. I felt a whole lot better after that.
P.s: I’m writing this post on Thursday with the conclusion and all. I’ll simply insert the Friday and Saturday summary later.
On friday. I went for my distant cousin’s engagement ceremony. My mum was in town. I saw my grandma too, it was her birthday. I got back to my hostel with more money ( thank the lord)and fatigue. Like I told my mum, it had simply never occured to me how I’ve never been to an engagement ceremony in my adulthood ( you get what I mean by adulthood). It was intriguing and tiring. I slept then woke up much later to study.
Saturday. The very day I’m putting up this post. The very day I’m glad I didn’t write this whole post because my mood is absolutely not cheery cheery nor my voice giddy and fast. I’ve had a long day which started with getting out of my hostel past 6 am. I’ve not participated in a single form of exercise in forever yet my bones are aching. My eyes are heavy and to think I’ve taken lots of fish and milk of late! I really want to start the weekend over, I can’t believe it’s flying past me. Sighs.
Needing: discipline. I’ve been getting late to my classes of late. I need new discipline.
Loving: I’ve been loving the very fresh air that comes in through my window when I wake up, as long as the curtain is drawn back. The air is fresh I say. The flowers outside sway gently. It’s a call to worship. I’ve been singing a lot of hymns too, something about waking up like that makes me want to sing hymns.
Longing: For home. I’ve been longing to go home, just to be in my own house where I can leave my hair in an untamed state, where I can run up the stairs, use my family members belongings, grin terribly at the dinning table, gist in the kitchen, take turns at leading praise and prayer during family devotions, get to my ‘green’ church, See familiar faces and hug friends, get to TKP office, take drinks without restraint, eat goodies without monetary caution. Home is home.
Thankful: for friends. Friends are friends and they’re God’s gift.
Certain: I have the holyspirit. And he is leading me to great heights!
In all, the week had been good inspite of the valley experiences.
Advice to self: study for exams and live one day at a time.
Advice to all: sing hymns. Walk tall even when you feel really small on the inside. Don’t let feelings rule you, get back to the one who made you a deeply feeling being. Last of all, Be.
Be.

Being, joy, home,

BOOK REVIEW–STAY WITH ME

Book Reviews 7 Comments

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The major themes in this book are captured in the blurb:

“…this is a devastating story of the fragility of married love, the undoing of family,the wretchedness of grief, and the all consuming bond of motherhood”

The story opens up in 2008 and we find a seemingly lonely woman, Yejide, and she directs her thoughts to someone. We’re intruders into this baring of her soul.
It’s direct and we’re not ushered into the book carefully. We must follow on to see who she converses with, in her head.
We’re taken back to 1985 to encounter her life with her husband and how their bliss is often punctuated by the offending relatives who proffer solutions to Yejide’s “barreness“. She often stays on her knees, smiling as they speak, after which she observes the routine of offering them food; their choice often being pounded yam.
Akin, her husband, types away on his phone every time they talk  and the illiterate relatives are happy he is paying detailed attention to their words, but what he really does is write his to-do-list for the week.
This scene we’re open to is, however, different. She becomes the first wife, iyale, with hopes that the new wife, Funmi, will give birth and this will usher in the children she needs.

“Our wife, our people say that when a man has a possession and it becomes two, he does not become angry, right?” Baba Lola said.
I nodded and smiled.
“Well our wife, this is your new wife. It is one child that calls another one into this world. Who knows, the king in heaven may answer your prayers because of this wife. Once she gets pregnant and has a child, we are sure you will have one too”

Yejide’s world seems to end.

“I did not feel better. I would not feel better for a very long time. already, I was coming undone, like a hastily tied scarf coming loose, on the ground before the owner is aware of it.”

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We are introduced to Akin’s view of her and we see immense love. Similar to Ifemelu and Obinze’s, if you know what I mean. We’re flattered by his love but we’re soon to find out there are things even love, can’t fix.
Life goes on, and all Funmi does, in spite of herself, is to strengthen the bond between the two. We see an example when armed robbers visit their house and leave. Upon hearing a gunshot, Akin made Yejide lie down and stayed atop her and didn’t shift till day break, not even when Funmi asked if he didn’t care about her too. When she cried, he said nothing but went out to check what had happened.
The armed robbers are ushered in, along with developments in the country. We discover the time when estates had no fences and armed robbers began to send letters of intended attacks, and how ridiculous it had appeared at the first. They followed it up with detailed letters adressed to each home; to one, on family planning; to one, of lovers etc, there is dread.
We move into that era where everyone left the radio in their homes on when they went out, to wade off robbers, giving an impression someone is at home.
We’re also nudged into the happenings in the political sector and we live through each coup d’etat that happens. We also experience the anticipation and doubt that follows the announcement of a change from military rule to democracy, the 1993 election, and the pinning after news.
Funmi, is in effect, not the end of their lives.
The book made me appreciate life some years back and the richness of culture at the time. There are a number of Yoruba proverbs and innuendos.
Yejide and Akin try to cope with the expectation of family life. We find out the impact of hate and acceptance from siblings and parents. We understand sacrifices made for family as we’re lead through yoruba folklore stories told to children.
The plot climaxes and the attrocities man is capable of, begins to get revealed, but it is cloaked with good intentions and we observe the “desperate attempts to save ourselves and the people we love from heartbreak” even when it fails.
The book is written in a 1st person POV alternatively between Yejide and Akin. I could follow the common thread of the book easily.
The style is semi-formal. The language is clear and well defined. I particularly enjoyed the way the author weaved her words.
The author, Ayobami Adebayo, has published stories in magazines and anthologies and this book has been shortlisted for bailey’s prize for women’s fiction.
The publisher is Ouida books. It’s been published in the U.k and came out in Nigeria only a week and two days ago . It has 306 pages. I bought it for 3,000 naira having ordered it through roving heights.
ISBN 978-978-959-320-0.
The main characters are Akinyele, Yejide, Yejide’s stepmothers, Dotun, Moomi, iya Bolu. The characters are credible. The characters run into a million problems. Yejide is my favourite character especially her OAU version. Her reasoning is relatable.
I like the book.
I believe everyone who is exposed to adulthood would appreciate this book. I recommend it to those who value family and I rate it 4.5/5stars.
Other excerpts:
On rejection from family:

“Two weeks later, her father died and I was shocked by how her step mothers went out of their way to ensure Yejide stood without any family member at her side. They all moved from one side of the grave to another so that Yejide and I stood alone like outcasts. When I nudged Yejide and asked that we both follow her siblings and step mothers, she smiled and told me they’d moved because of her and if we went to their side, they would simply all move again”

“We can’t keep fighting over this thing, you know. We are brothers, we are blood. A woman can divorce you, family can’t…brother mii, get this right, you can’t fight with me

“

On love:

“I loved Yejide from the very first moment. No doubt about that. But there are things even love can’t do. Before I got married, I believed love could do anything . I learned soon enough that it couldn’t bear the weight of our years without children. If the burden is too much and stays too long, even love bends,cracks, comes close to breaking and even sometimes does break. But even when it is a million pieces around your feet, that doesn’t means it’s no longer love”

”

It was not the outrage in Iya Martha’s scream that stopped my words. It was the tender way Akin’s thumb stroked my Palm. I looked away from his eyes”

On family:

“Every time he married a new wife, my father would tell his children that a family was about having people who would look for you if you got kidnapped. It was a bad joke and I was the only one who ever laughed . I laughed at all his jokes. I think he believed in this myth of his large harmonious family. He probably thought i would still visit my stepmothers after his death.”

“I sat by his bed looking, waiting for the faintest signs that he had decided to return to me. There was no sign. I was afraid to touch him,afraid that my touch might stress him and carry him into the unknown, away from me, forever. By the third day I was on my knees praying to him in muttered words only I could hear saanu mi, malo, omo mi, joo nitori olorun. Saanu mi. Duro timi. Have mercy on me,don’t go please. Stay with me. “
“…and your family, which for a misguided period, I thought was mine”
“I was not strong enough to love when I could loose again”

On having children:

“I never began the story with moomi’s olomo lo l’aye saying. I’d believed her once, I’d accepted it- like the tortoise and his wife- that there was no way to be in the world without offspring. And though I told Rotimi the story many times, I no longer believed that having a child was equal to owning the world”

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Debby
What do you think? Have you read this book? Are you interested? The conversation never stops. Don’t forget to share too!