Posts tagged friendship

A visit to Nike Art Gallery

Hey guys. How are you doing? While I was ready with a non-fiction story to tell you, I was also hugely interested in documenting my recent visit to Nike Art Gallery over here. So today, it’s a picture-story about my visit. I hope you enjoy it.


I had always wanted to take a picture like this. Guess who succeeded? ?
By the way, you won’t appreciate this art I’m standing infront of, unless you see it in person. What is captured by the camera is waaay different from what is initially captured by the naked eye. It makes everyone go “wow”!
Absolutely one of my favourites.
Sisi D and sisi G
♥️

We should all regularly ask ourselves: “Does what
I am feeling or doing have its roots in the contentment of
faith or in the anxious insecurity of unbelief?” That will give
you help in hundreds of little and big ethical decisions.


Here’s the one that bugged us. Please what in this picture explains the writing on it? A bountiful gift awaits whoever can unlock the mystery
Another favourite
If you don’t understand art, it’s okay, provided you don’t criticize it. In other words, if you laugh at my jump in this picture, you’re just hating. I jumped this way on purpose because I was trying to fly like a bird.
There I am on the first floor. Jumping regularly. You see?
Our national cake
♥️
Yuck!

Here starts a story:

Sisi and I walking to the pose with the art in front
First picture
Who are you? Mr random stranger taking our pictures without permission?
Trying without success to ignore the photographer
I can’t bear this. Something must be done about this blatant infringement.
Excuse me Uncle, explain your mission!
All settled. I can relax

There are two ways to live your life. One is as nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.


My reaction when it’s time to leave.
Bye!

I hope you’re good guys. I’ll see you next week with some non-fiction stories.

As always,

Debby

Hello Strong Friend.

Hello precious people. Welcome back to this space. How’s life going? I really want to know, feel free to ramble away on how life is going in the comment box. I also advise you learn to journal some of your thoughts down, it helps to analyze your feelings. I don’t do so everyday but for the days that I do, it’s amazing.
Today, I’m sharing part of what I wrote down last year and I was suprised to re-read this year.
I wrote this sometimes last year:

God, I want to cry.
I so want to cry that I can’t type. I just want to cry on someone. For being so strong for so long, I want to cry. I just want to cry for everyday that’s gone by. I want to cry.
My lecturer cried in class today and it’s broken something inside of me, I just want to cry.
I got to IVCU fellowship office today, and in the outer office, I heard some of my friends’ voices inside. I didn’t want to go in because I would have to be strong in front of them.
Since when did that start? Friends you can’t cry in front of?
Friends you can’t break your walls in front of.
Am I like that to other people?

The structure of my campus fellowship’s office is basic: you step into a room, call it your reception area. Then there’s a door leading to a store by your right. Still in the ‘reception’ area, there’s a door in front of you that leads to what we often refer to as “the inner office” or inner court (in reference to the Jewish temple).
The walls are made of thin wood, and it’s really just dividing one big office. You can understand that the voices carry.
The context: That day, my lecturer had cried in class and it surprised me, surprised everyone. But it did something more to me, it made me want to cry. I had something to do at my fellowship immediately after my class and I hadn’t cried yet ?.
Discussion: It’s alright if I didn’t want to break down in front of more than one person but the real issue was the thought that flashed by my mind making me think I had to be strong in front of people.
Strong. Strong? Who is strong please? Such a relative word. Truth is there is more strength in vulnerability than in ‘bold face’.

Since when did that start? Friends you can’t cry in front of?
Friends you can’t break your walls in front of.
Am I like that to other people?

The real question was whether I had friends who would turn away rather than cry in front of me. I’m not talking of general acquaintances. The few and deliberate friends.

Cornelius Lindsey, I referred to him in this blog post, put this picture up on instagram. A part of his caption says:

“To be the strong friend is a desirable position because it means you’re valuable and useful.
Unfortunately strength turns to weakness when it’s used without rest and replenishment. That’s why it’s important for strong friends to have true friends who s/he can be honest with when asked “HOW ARE YOU?”
So strong friend, don’t hide behind pride! Answer honestly for your own sake. I know you help others, but you need help too.”

It’s got two aspects. Check on your strong friends selflessly.
Two, allow yourself to be checked on. Don’t turn back. Go in. No pride allowed here.
There’s a saying that goes:

“Good friends never let their friends cry alone”.

I tell my friends ‘make me a good friend please, don’t cry alone’. Na beg I beg.
A problem shared is a problem half solved. Be deliberate about your friends. Don’t just let friendship happen to you. “We’re in the same group, so we’re friends; we work together, so we’re friends“. That’s cool on a surface level but you must have friends you can tell the brutal truth. Brutal, being the emphasis.
My message to you: Choose your friends, then trust them.

Truthfully,
Debby.
Go on ahead, how are you doing?

Beating Addictions; How to get out of despondency.

  1. The loss of hope or confidence;despair or dejection.
  2. A feeling of depression ordisheartenment.



In this Christian race, how can we help each other? Scripture says to encourage one another while it is called today.
I genuinely want to help.
Addictions make you sink yet it’s cuts across almost everybody in one area or the other. Who would’ve thought self control to be a life saver? But it is.
That’s because it’s a fruit of the spirit. Galatians 5:22.

But the spirit produces Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, faithfulness, Humility, and Self-Control. There is no law against things such as these.

When you’re unable to apply self-control to that thing you do, you get addicted. Even to the littlest of things.
Addictions are almost always crippling and that’s because day 1, you make up your mind to beat/stop it but it doesn’t work. Day 2, you have a firmer resolve but in spite of it, you fall, even harder. Day 3, ahem. Day 4, why?! By day 5, the depression sets in.
If with all that effort, it doesn’t go away, what can deliver you? And you ask this not as one who’s never experienced the tremendous power of God. You have. That’s why you called on him for this addiction but no result.
You’re choking on the addiction. You’re losing your sense of what is right and wrong. You may randomly even wonder if the Christian life is for you or for some other fire guys. The walls are fast closing in.
When I despaired once, the scripture I kept replaying in my mind was :
Psalm 34: 6 (English Standard Version)

This poor man cried, and the LORD heard him and saved him out of all his troubles

I just knew- I just did, – that if I cried, he would hear me because its written in the scriptures. That was it. It was written, so I believed. It was my only hope.
So what do you often do when you despair?
Let your heart cry out to him and hold on to that rope of hope. Just hold on. Hold.
Ecclesiastes 9: 4 (New Living Translation)

There is hope only for the living. As they say, “It’s better to be a live dog than a dead lion!”

See? God’s word is the hope we have to find hope in the worst of times.
Sometimes its an eclipse; that’s why its all dark. His word says joy comes in the morning. It will surely come. Has his word said it? That’s all. Confess the word of God that you’ve read. Reach out to a friend to pray with/for you. Just open your mouth and speak to God about how awful everything is.
It will rain.You can be certain of that. And you would be stronger for it when you rise. Your faith would’ve built up some muscles.
Let your heart reach out to him. Hold on to your hope.
Ps 36: 4(New Living Translation)

In my desperation I prayed, and the LORD listened; he saved me from all my troubles.

And my e-mail address is always open for discussions.


What has been your story on losing or finding hope? Struggling with addictions?
Hope and Light,
Debby.

Boarding House Reflections (2)

Hello good people. Thanks for all the love you’ve been showing on the blog. It does matter. Bloggers always appreciate comments, on and offline. Though you should always feel free to comment on the blog. It springs up conversation and makes it a lively page. Merci beau coup.
Today, someone else is sharing her school reflections with us on here.
Sharon is one girl with whom I used to gist for hours back in the days. She had this celebrity bunk bed while in ss3. She used to daydream there. Since she had no bunkmate, she removed the matress and wooden planks on top and would gaze up at the decking, mapping out her future husband and children. I was always welcome to lie on the bed with her and go to lala land.
I can relate to some of her experiences on here and I was just laughing while reading it. I’m sure you’ll enjoy this. Thank you Sharon for agreeing to write. 
She is a spoken word artist.
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MY SECONDARY SCHOOL DAYS! THE CONS AND PROS OF BEING AN EXECUTIVE OF THE FELLOWSHIP AT CHAPEL SECONDARY SCHOOL. 
In case you don’t get it, the name of the school had to be included in the title because Chapel secondary school located in Kwara state is arguably one of the most ‘spiritual’ (religious) schools in Nigeria, when you exclude convents and seminaries?
Therefore, when you apply for admission into this School,  it is expected of you to know and understand that you have invariably agreed to surrendering your life to Jesus. So being an executive in the Fellowship of this school should mean that you are sitted with Christ in the heavenly places? No more, No less! 
So what were the Pros and Cons of being a religious head as a young Secondary girl? Join me!
Let me take you one year before I became an executive, my junior secondary School years, JSS3 to be precise. I was a lively girl; not the prettiest nor brightest in class (maths was and still is a problem) but I was friends with almost all. I never knew what if felt like to have a crush until then. This boy who was a very good friend of mine gave me two cards for Christmas.
My first gift from a guy! you have no idea what that meant. Someone, a human being, thought of me and then carried his legs and went to buy cards for me, you can laugh now,  but it wasn’t so much a joke for 10 year old me. I held them to my chest, I would read the words every night and think about them. By the way, the words on the card were about the birth of Jesus ? I don’t know how they were making me feel mushy mushy (emotional)?
I tell you,  when you are in love, you’re just stupid (full stop) 
Now, I can say this was my first real attempt at heart matters; feelings, crushes and all and it didn’t last; Why?
If I remember well,  people were saying stuff. You know how Secondary School people are. A friend will come and say
“I heard he told one of his friends that you are cheap”,
 you will hear another girl say that another girl said that
“Sharon that does not have sense, she thinks he likes her”
Oh Girls! They can ruin marriages. ??? 
I remember telling a friend back then that if there could be so much drama when we weren’t even in a relationship, what will happen if we were more.
So, I started keeping my distance and moving farther away from him. It really wasn’t any big deal, even he had moved on and then I moved into the boarding house, in my Senior Secondary School year 1 and this is where the story begins. 
Just as I got into the senior class,  I became reserved. Was it because I moved into the hostel? I don’t think so because I remember on the first day of school that year, people were asking me, 
what’s wrong with you?’
‘why are you quiet’
 and I remember I kept answering in all sincerity that there was absolutely nothing wrong. Some of my teachers even thought I had a terminal sickness like cancer or something. My walk became slow, I became less chatty but I can’t trace it to the fact that I moved to the hostel because whenever I was in the hostel, I was more lively, at least a little more. I will chat and make jest with friends and juniors, about boys and other stuff
Now I was to be considered for the post of being an executive in the School’s fellowship, this was the second term of the school year. This was going to change my life forever. How:
Firstly,  because you would almost become socially dead? 
As an executive, not only do people automatically assume an air over your life,  you also naturally get to have some changes in your life. Many people will say this change is called ‘being fake’ but perhaps not for everyone.
For example, I was made the Assistant prayer Coordinator, this meant that Fridays which every school Student used to look forward to as the fun day since it was the end of the week and you will walk to the  road with your pals or that guy you liked; it wasn’t the same for me.
As an executive, one will sometimes have to skip classes in the morning so as to arrange the hall for the School fellowship which held every afternoon. I remember my mathematics teacher always complained about me being unserious because it happened to be that his classes fell into the morning period. Also, after fellowship, you’ll clean up the hall and then as the Prayer unit head which I was, we would have our weekly prayer meeting, which could run for about two hours or more (more actually), into the evening. We actually did love it! We were like this clique, we will gist, make jest, and though our lives were not to the admiration of others but we really were fine. By evening time, my mates in the hostel are already done strolling round the school hand in hand with their crushes or chilling out, catching up with the guy they liked but I wasn’t even given that luxury. Not because I didn’t have a crush.
Oh I did,  let’s talk about him!
Dark, well built, Big boy gait, he was a year my senior. You see, even as an executive, I had my eyes fixed on the Lord and the corner of my eyes fixed on the boy??? Hallelujah.
Now,  he wasn’t an executive. He  was one of those guys people will call a ‘bad boy’. You know,  back then in school, as long as you really weren’t an executive,  you had the tendencies to be called a bad boy or a bad girl,  For no reason! ? or simply because you were being a youth of your age, liking a guy or being in a relationship. 
Now, this guy never looked at me twice, he couldn’t have! I didn’t even used to dress cute and nice, I didn’t used to walk like a girl, I still don’t. People say I bounce, it’s so embarrassing and I’ve tried but you see if it’s not in you, it’s not in you. 
You know, there were girls who used to dress well and girly, nice hair do, little make up (cos my School will slaughter you if you had much make up). I was on a freaking low cut! I would hardly use powder, not because I had a problem with it but because I just didn’t think about it, not even because I was caught up in my responsibilities as an executive. There were executives who were better and more pleasing to the eye?.
 Even if all things were being equal and this guy noticed me, there was no way any thing could have happened because as I have written earlier, there is a natural assumption made over you once you are an executive. Some would even say it’s hard to believe you like anyone,  like you are without emotions and feelings and also,
HOW CAN YOU, AN EXECUTIVE IN CHAPEL SECONDARY SCHOOL THINK OF GOING INTO A RELATIONSHIP! When you are not mad. 
A friend of mine who was an executive almost went into a relationship,
oh my! 
The higher authorities went ablaze! By the higher authorities, I refer to those above us; the teachers and Patrons. In fact, it got even me into trouble. I remember one of the teachers called me and with a serious tone asked
What were you looking at till she got to this point where she wants to go into a relationship with him, and of all people, him!”
The problem again was that the guy she liked was one they considered to be ‘not Christian enough’
These were the cons. Your life was being monitored, sometimes excessively. Now, this is what could lead into being fake.
I remember the day I applied gloss to my lips (lip gloss)?, normal ordinary lip gloss o, all those types most of us used back then in SSS3; brown with tiny shimmers so that it looked mildly like lip stick, I used it, innocent me, and one of the teachers called and gave me a sound lecture on how I was not to be doing ‘such’ because I was an executive. 
Another time, when were to fill in information for our year book, I wrote my nick name to be ‘Sha-baby’ because that was what many called me, a teacher called me and said ‘as a Christian, do you think it is right to write such a thing as your nick name’
Guys, I was weak.
I was so confused.
So you see, being an executive could deny you some of the Senior Secondary school thrills, but can we out rightly say it was all bad. No, my quest for the knowledge of God started, I learnt to be by myself.
Now, Yes, many who were not executives also had a relationship with God. Did I hear someone say that’s a win-win (Lol) while some were executives and lived fake, some were executives and lived true.
 I hope at this point,  you see my point *chuckles* did you notice what I just did now,  point-point, Some will say it’s nothing,? Forget it! 
Anyways,  my point is that at every point in time (Oh God! I did it again! I know right, I’m such a genius?) Well, at every point of our lives, God is teaching us stuff, even for those who had not surrendered their lives to Christ back then,  God was writing a beautiful story of their lives, of everyone of us.
And even now, in a few years time, you will look back at this present moment you’re in,  and smile then shake your head and say… “But babe, you could have done things better” and that’s because you have a better understanding and have become a better person and you’ll be grateful you went through every twist, turn, normalcy and mistake, because it all has been wrought into a beautiful script and that script is you!
Ciao
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Hello, my name is sharonpaula. I am currently running my National Youth Service Corp Scheme in Delta State. 
Oh, I love writing spoken word pieces, making spoken word videos and editing them.
I am a very silly and sincere girl and I can be fun to be with.
You can check out my spoken word pieces on Instagram @iamsharonpaula or reach out to me on my mail sharonpaulaspeaks@gmail.com
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*clears throat* Are there some other people in the house, for whom math(s) was and still is a problem? Do testify.
As an exco though, we truly were seated In heavenly places with Christ Jesus. Prayer band helped me at that time. It was always a long stretch of hours which, funny enough, was our delight. We became a mini-family! Like Sharon, I can say that was when my dedicated quest for God started (with lots of up and down though!). 
What do you make of Sharon’s story? Interested in sharing your boarding house (secondary school) story with us? Did the ‘higher-authorities’ influence you in school? Did you (or others) think you were being fake? We’ll love to hear your thoughts.

If wishes were horses

“Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize it, or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to.” Sylvia Plath

Helloooo there beautiful people. Hope you’ve been well. I should get to a non-fiction post soon enough. Let you know what has been up with me.
In other pressing matters, I saw the above quote yesterday. Sylvia Plath couldn’t have said it better. It’s so true about written words both fiction and non-fiction. In any case I decided to share this flash fiction I wrote a few weeks back. That quote prompted me to.
See this story you’re about to read, has some elements of reality in it. Fiction, I have always accepted is therapeutic. It takes a little of us.
What had she gained? Instead her seams were ruffled inside her. She didn’t understand. She couldn’t possibly get it. And the question Uju had asked ” a boy or a girl?”
Aanu knew in that moment that she shouldn’t have told her. There ought to have been a tearing inside of Uju if she got it, the type of tearing that happened inside Aanu the night she found out.
Aanu wished she had kept quiet and nursed the grief in her. It was always best after all not to expose yourself to outsiders. What had compelled her mouth to tell Uju she still didn’t know. What she had hoped to achieve evaded her. She felt like paper; flat and raw.
After Uju heard Toni had a baby, and put the picture on Instagram, Uju’s question was “why did she put it on IG?”
For Aanu that wasn’t meant to be the question. She felt exposed and mocked.  Toni was a part of her.  Opening up to someone who didn’t get it hurt.
She rubbed her palms together in hopes to get rid of the dark gap inside her.
They had dreamt together, herself and Toni. They had hushed conversations till early mornings. They washed socks for each other when that was all they had to wash and the other had much laundry to do. She had exchanged the Friday fish she didn’t like for Toni’ Sunday plantain which Toni considered too soft.
They had snuck to read each other’s diary. And knowing they couldn’t always keep their diary far away from human reach,  they sometimes interwove untrue stories along with the truth. They created a life they wanted by sprinkling their current lives with condiments. Lives more luscious with the boys who stayed around them. So when they snuck and read each others diary they read rich and enviable entries.
Life had happened to them all after graduation. Dispersed them, changed them .
The first time Aanu saw Toni after graduation, Toni had come to unilag to see her aunt who worked there. When they met and their bodies pressed together, Toni had not opened her heart, only her arms. Anu felt a sort of bereavement, and inadequacy. She had opened her heart and her arms without receiving same.
Consequently, they distanced themselves. Whenever she went down her Facebook feed, she would see Toni’s recent photo upload, stare at it then continue scrolling like she had never seen it. Now she wished she had liked it. Wished she had commented. When she had kept in touch. Wished. Wished. Wished.
image

The one who had everything

I have viewed her as someone whom the story has been sucked out of by time and desperation .
I imagine her youthful state, full of beauty and wit. An interesting personality, not in the known of the future but living in the present.
A library of novels, borrowed and bought. Flunked by a little wealth, giving way to snobbery. Not pride. Pride has to be deep-seated.
Waiting deepened those qualities only more from lovable and enviable to a quarter of lovable.
As the other people grew they each learned to love the extreme flatness of their nose and the flabiness of their lips, their slow rate of understanding . They learned to live and expand in love. Not caring much for the one who had everything.
The one who had everything waited for the one true thing she really wanted while all others with their windows wound up sped up clouds of smoke to leave her coughing by the wheels.
Debby Adebayo