Posts tagged adults

Ladies and Football; 6 guys give their opinions.

Hiii people. To wrap up this Ladies and football series is another dimension.
You know why I’m interested in these opinions? I think it’s might just be pure stereotype. Is there really a sport meant for only one sex?
That most people of a certain sex aren’t involved or interested in that sport, shouldn’t grant a monopoly of it to the other sex or should it? (Do answer in the comment section).
The dimension: I asked a number of guys their opinion on this question:

“Do you mind marrying a lady who not only loves football, but also plays football?
Do you think its cool?
What has been your experience with ladies who (1), love and (2),play football?”

These are the answers I got:
Dipo
I don’t mind marrying a lady who loves and plays football.
Yeah, I think it’s cool.
My simple experience in relating with such ladies most times is that we communicate and relate better.
David
For me, football is a huge part of my world. therefore having a lady who also loves football is a bonus, especially if we both support the same club. we’ll get to share our victories and console each other when the team loses.
As regards the playing of football, I’m comfortable with marrying a lady who plays football as a hobby, but not a professional footballer.
About personal experiences, I have a preference for ladies with football knowledge as it’s common ground to relate with them, though friendship with Arsenal supporters is tricky, as they’re almost always on a down mood.
Jonah
Ahh…
I don’t mind marrying a lady who loves and play football…( Unless if the playing is too much like three times a week).
Yes, it’s cool to marry a wife you can once in a while play football with.
My experiences
1. Those who love it are nice and love to share their ideas, but they usually cry when their team loses spoiling your mood too.
2. Those who play are usually tough and hard to deal with.
Yemi
Hmmm. The first question ehn. I think I won’t mind marrying a lady that loves watching football because I love that too. But playing football, I actually think it will be difficult or rather rare to see a lady at her mid 20s involved in playing football.
Now, I don’t have experience with ladies who play football, but I do with ladies that watch .
It’s been really cool discussing football with them, but the fact is that you have to educate them on some *known* stuffs in football. They don’t know some intricacies in football, so most times, guys have to tell them about those stuffs which ordinarily are common knowledge to football freaks.
Bayo
I definitely don’t mind marrying a lady who loves or even plays football.
I think it is cool. I have female friends who enjoy talking about football and I must say it is usually exciting, different from when you are talking to the guys.
Wole
Are u kidding me, a lady who not only loves but also plays football is an angel 😁.
Of course, I definitely wouldn’t mind marrying her.
It’s supercool.
My experience with ladies who love/play football is that they do tend to be kinda manly, not physically, I mean character-wise.
Which is not so cool but then you can’t have everything right.


Different opinions. 😊 There’s however however a consensus that it’s cool when a lady loves football, the degree of that love for footbsll being a different thing for each person.


You know, it’s uncalled for seggregating sports. My opinion is that naturally, most ladies would not gravitate towards playing football and that’s O.K. Whatever you want.
However for you as a future primary or secondary school proprietor/propreitress to take an outright stance on the seggragation is to brainwash young minds. Same holds as a future parent.
Or like Simi’s story, to even call a lady that likes football a lesbian. I’m tired.
In the same vein, this that I saw on twitter:

Let’s do better for the next generation. Or what do you think?
If you’re going to live wholly, you can’t be crippled by unfounded societal expectations.
Question to all: what sport have you always considered a female sport?
And if a guy doesn’t fancy football, so be it.
As always,
Debby.

Fiction: Patient Shoulders

She felt it would last forever; the imminent separation. She did not want to face the implication of his leaving. She did not want to address the lump in her throat. She sat silently in the back seat of the car as her father drove steadily to the airport.
She’d thought she was certain where they were headed before now. She hated, with a blend of tolerance, the inability to read Sola’s mind at certain moments. He looked on ahead, sitting at the front seat beside her father, his chin lifted, just as the radio in the car droned on.
To think she couldn’t bring herself to stop liking his personality no matter what. She wanted to cry.
She felt the unease occasioned by her defiant silence shift to wrap itself around her father but Sola will seem immune. Her father impulsively tapped the steering wheel as he began to speak again, stopping to clear his throat
so have you heard any other news about your father?”
No sir,” Sola replied steadily “it’s the same.”
God will intervene” her father said.
“Amen”
She gazed out the window in despair.
At the airport, her father double checked the car security before they walked down to the terminal. Sola checked in his ticket and from where she sat with her father, she saw him speaking to the lady behind the counter in his easy manner. The lady cracked a smile. Walking back to where she sat with her father, he looked at them both and nodded. “I’m set to go”

Okay then my son. Keep in touch” her father said and patted his back in a brief hug, smiling.
This time her eyes would not be averted. She looked at him, appearing bolder than she felt. She gave a small smile. He didn’t. He stepped closer and put both his hands around her shoulders to hold them in a comforting manner. She did not want comfort, anything but comfort, as her head throbbed with the onset of an headache. His grip was firm but not hard.
” you take care of yourself. You deserve care.”.

Three months later, She was walking down her street having bought soft drinks for the visitors they were to host in the evening.
For no reason at all, it came into her mind what Sola had last said to her: <i>you deserve care.</i>
Inadvertently, she snorted. It had been three 'almost-relationships' in her life and she was fatigued. She was prejudiced about relationships and on a whole, world-weary but she didn't know how to help herself. Her father who knew the level of her closeness to Sola had not known how to either, but he still tried to encourage her gently. Iyanu was past words of encouragement. She wasn't sure she could even enter into any relationship successfully without a nagging fear that it would crash. She felt her own anguish and wished for a motherly advice.

The visitors they were expecting arrived in two cars. A metallic silver honda accord and a white Mercedes benz. She was in the kitchen frying the last round of plantain to go with the jollof rice when Dele, the adopted help, went to open the gate. She took a break to briefly view them from the window at the sitting room before returning to the kitchen.
Her father soon joined the three men and two women. Greetings and laughter followed.
~~~
Iyanu left the door to her room wide open once she’d served them their food and her father had introduced her as his daughter. With the door open, the visitors’ voices carried softly to where she was. The conversation after they’d eaten the food she served wielded itself from the upcoming elections to the issue of politics in the church, and then to Christian virtues. It was on this subject: Christian virtues, that they dwelt the longest.
Iyanu could guess it was the tall woman who was speaking at the moment about Elizabeth, wife of John the Baptist.
But you see that with all our bible knowledge these days, virtues like patience seem to have taken the backseat. Some people argue that if you have faith everything comes extremely fast. Quite true, but we must know the exceptions.
That wasn’t the case for Zechariah and Elizabeth. Elizabeth was old before she conceived. ‘Stricken in age’, the bible puts it
The woman’s tempo was going down and Iyanu, very much interested, rose from her bed where she had propped herself against the wall, using her pillow. She took her plastic chair and sat by the door to her room for better audience.
…Heaven knew the right specifications for the woman who was to birth Jesus on earth. We were waiting for that Mary and so God kept Elizabeth childless for that purpose. Elizabeth had proven she wouldn’t disappoint him. How many could do that?

They were stricken in age but she had come to understand like the three Hebrew boys that Faith is steadfast even if the answer from heaven doesn’t seem favourable at that time. If it doesn’t come from God, I don’t want it.
“Elizabeth was to birth the forerunner of Christ, a very important role and God trusted her well enough that until Mary is ready, she’d wait on him. Until the appointed time. Until Mary hits puberty. Until she’s old enough to be engaged to Joseph, Elizabeth wouldn’t lose faith. He knew she would not stop loving him because the promise was yet to surface. It was a step-by-step leading, one not moved by time and season. The beauty of it all is that God could depend the plan of salvation on her patient shoulders.”

In the distance the wall clock ticked a bit loudly.

In other news, Happy International women’s day.
Do share your thoughts and subscribe.
As always,
Debby.

2018 Life Update (1)

Hello.
I try not to get too consumed in other blog plans, so as to leave out updates on my life.
Sometimes though, I do not know how to succesfully pass across all I’m going through. Sometimes, I do not even know how to blog. Do we ever really know how to do some things? Expertise may just be a hoax.
Reading: Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi. I’d heard good noise about this on the internet since it got published. I hope to review it someday.
Also, I’m re-reading Daughter of Destiny. It’s the only authorized biography of Kathryn Kuhlman. I told an old friend recently that I try to re-read that book every year. I vividly recall something I heard Bishop Oyedepo say in a message I listened to. He said he re-reads Kenneth .E. Hagin’s books every year because that is a huge part of his faith origin. Every year, the busy bishop Oyedepo, much older than I am, makes out time to re-read the same books and read others. Obviously what you focus on, shapens your life. If there is a book which marked a significant turning point in your life, you can make a yearly commitment to it. 
Thirdly, I’m on Living as a Christian by A.W Tozer. I love A.W Tozer’s style. He is that familiar uncle I never met. I don’t mind going over a chapter repeatedly.

Wanting: My own apartment. I like having my own space a little too much. I told my mum that someday, I’ll really love to have my house before I get married. A place where I can just customize. Preferably a minimalist setting, with lots of awe-inducing wall art.
Right now, I love my roommate but I get bothered about the issue of space. Isn’t it okay to just have my things the exact way I want them to be – unruffled?
When I do reflect, I think it just goes to show my personality and a weakness in that personality. Life is in sharing. People won’t always have the same priorities I have. Therefore, if I have to sweep four times a day because I do not like any dirt, well then, so be it. Sweep, and live out my current personal apartment-less life.
Wearing: New lipstick occasionally. Make-up is as much a mystery as it is a controversy in some circles. In some other circles, it’s just feminine, nothing attached.
Having: daily battles with my flesh. Sometimes, I will do every other thing but pray. Every other thing. No matter how many spiritual things you do, if you do not pray, you’re cheating yourself. When I say pray,I do not mean collective prayers but personal. 
At a group retreat recently, someone made mention of the reason why some people pray saying “the God of Babalola, the God of Adeboye“. Those ministers have personal spiritual ‘net-worth’. This isn’t about the communal anointing that occurs when we gather to pray. Rather, a personal spiritual weight harnessed in the place of prayer.
Eating: fruits of late, because something has to work atleast.  My plan was to prepare lots of food at this period and store them. I had plans to make soups but I can’t, because, erratic power supply. In other words, I’ve been missing my African dishes. *cue dramatic sigh of a Yoruba girl*
Missing: Family trips.
Hoping: For an audible subscription from a friend. Lol. Hoping for a Cassie Daves blog planner from a friend.
Listening: To nothing much of late. My phone isn’t reading my memory card currently so most of my songs have been out of reach. My favourite song of late is Reckless Love by Steffany Gretzinger. It’s a Bethel music song.
I also miss listening to audio bible.
Trying: to tie together this thing called adulting. Making decisions. Being taken seriously. Being looked up to. Working.

Encouraging you: to stick to one thing like a postal stamp, until you get there.
Well, that’s what I saw as a quote somewhere. Your life encourages people with the littlest of things sometimes. There is someone on instagram who encourages me with her huge love for dogs. Imagine that. She is just living her life, loving dogs, yet she inspires someone. It gets as simple as that. I’m here making sense of this blogging thing in the midst of a thousand and one confusions and then occasionally, someone tells me of how the blog is a blessing to them.
 I think doubt surely follows any good thing. In an article I read on Zadie Smith(a writer) today, in answering a question on any secret techniques to coping with self-doubt, she admitted that:

” In the end, you just have to write and doubt simultaneously”

Don’t bother about the doubt accompanying what you’re creating,  just do it. Stick to it, like a postal stamp, until you get there. I know you will get there.
That does it for the day. Thanks, see you next week.
Love, adulting, prayers,
Debby.
Can you relate to something I shared? How are you faring? Pray tell in the comment box.

To all 'uncles'

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.