EMPOWERED WOMEN,  EMPOWER WOMEN. 

Oh my readers forgive me, I no go do am again o! 😢😢

Hello everyone and welcome to the month of July!  Whoop whooop!!  I hope we have all been good to ourselves. That’s great! 

You can’t wait for the story ba?  See your teeth. 😂 Amebo. 

I’m not talking again 😯 

Just kidding!  Let’s wait for these chickens to pass first.  🕒 

🐓🐔🐓🐓🐔🐔🐔🐔🐓🐓🐔🐔🐔🐔🐓🐓🐓

Alright!  

Yesterday while I was scrolling through my timeline, I came across a post by a girl named Oma. She’s a blogger and talks about everything that deserves an opinion on her blog. She had shared one of her posts and the title suggested that women were their own problem. The post in summary was a story about how she mentioned to her mother that she was tired of the traffic and needed to get herself a car. Her mother yelled at her and asked her if she even wanted to get married at all because when she gets a car it would scare away suitors and she’ll most probably end up alone and sad. 

😕

A friend of mine also shared a story of how she was on a bus conversing in igbo with her friend and was interrupted by the stranger sitting next to her. The stranger scolded her for sounding too “igbotic” and adviced her to speak more English so that she could sound more lady-like and attract suitors. This stranger was a woman. 

😰

The famous Nigerian Architect and radio host, Jumoke Adenowo in an interview for a women’s show explained how dreams have been killed,  crushed and shattered because mothers and women tell their daughters and friends that: shebi it’s Garri that they will do last last,  just study your nuclear physics and get married. 

😮

Everyday on social media and in random discussions, the issue of the discrimination against humans because they are female come up. I sit back and realise that the people who advocate for their freedom do this mostly before the ones who discriminate. But amongst themselves, they feel less. 

Women! We might be our own problem! 
We will not get the treatment and recognition we deserve by lip service,  we get it by working on ourselves and helping ourselves. But no! We have turned ourselves into competitors for a negligible price. Everyday there is a constant struggle for a meal ticket that we can afford. We smile to win, we speak to admonish and we dress to slay. Everything we do is just so that Justine will not do it better than we have done it. 

I envy men sometimes because even in diversity,  there is a sense of community, understanding and respect they have for their counterparts. Correct me if I’m wrong. With us? It’s always a competition. We see ourselves as less and teach our daughters to be less. It’s an endless cycle that continuously mass produces a set of brain washed women who fight for nothing. 

We should owe our daughters, sisters and friends the responsibility to empower ourselves because in so doing,  we empower them too. We owe them belief in ourselves and we owe them success. 

Stop seeing the woman next to you as a competitor and start seeing her as a sister. We are in no competition because at the end of the day,  we all die and the things we kill ourselves over will perish.

Help the lady next to you by first helping yourself. Success and happiness is not gender selective. Stop the ill-advicing, the envy,  the hate,  the fighting,  the scowls and the gossip. Stop basing your happiness in what Obinna thinks or what Chidimma says. Just be a woman. 

This is why I have stopped advocating for gender equality and this is why I have not identified with feminism because I don’t know who to fight for or speak for. We must first unite before deciding to fight. 

Let us empower ourselves and in so doing, we might even prove our worth without even trying. 

Thanks and have a lovely Sunday. 

– Nduka Ifeoma

STORY – ONYINYE’S TALE 3

 

She obviously loved James with all her heart and couldn’t wait to get married to him but the uncertainties of life wouldn’t let her mind rest. Something inside her head kept telling her that maybe her parents had a point.


It was Friday finally and the week actually ended better than it started. Mr. Femi had been going for site jobs for the whole week so there was no yelling or insulting in the office and her mum hadn’t called her again. At around 12 o’ clock, Onyinye was about to step out of the office for lunch when her phone rang and she checked her phone screen and it read “Tari the b*tch”. She picked,

“Tari the bitch!”

“Onyinye the whore!”

The two bestfriends greeted themselves in their usual manner and laughed their heads off for about three seconds. Onyinye met Tari two years ago during her NYSC camp at Delta state and ever since they haven’t let go of each other.

“Babes where have you been oo, you have replaced me abi?” Tari teased

Continue reading

BUT FOR EVERYTHING, THERE IS A SEASON

​There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens

Ecclesiastes 3 vs 1 

Today in class, a few of us were picking on a colleague. Seriously! I’m not a bully though but it was just us having fun and trying to ease of the stress from school work. The issue with this classmate was that he had just refused to talk to girls and mingle. We hardly see him with any female friends and as the good course mates that we are *adjusts tie and collar*, we decided to help out of concern. hahaha.

Anyways, we kept teasing him and playfully giving him suggestions to his “situation” as we liked to call it until one of us said something:
“There is time for everything”

Whatever is has already been,

and what will be has been before;

and God will call the past to account.

Ecclesiastes 3 vs 15

This and recent happenings in my life have shown me the value of time and how it works. To every second, minute, and hour, a scene has been assigned. The scenes will only play out when they are supposed to and the truth about the matter is that you actually cannot do anything about this particular fact. This is why patience indeed is a virtue.

You and I have a list of things that we want for people and for ourselves that we recite to as often as possible but the truth is that if these things are not written down in the scripts and scrolls of time, they cannot happen except God allows it. 
“Fate confirms fate”
If it is written that you are supposed to crawl and you try hard to walk, you’ll get hurt and still end up crawling. It’s difficult not to be hasty about things especially when you already have it all planned out in your head and you have invested alot in these things. I understand. But the truth is that, whatever is has already been and what will be, has been before. Let things play out.

 I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. 13 That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God. 14 I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that people will fear him.

Ecclesiastes 3 vs 12-14

Whatever you feel you want might not be what you need. Beating the gun will only delay your race. Relax, and take things as they come. It might annoy you at some point. Sometimes you may cry, other times you may frown ans some other times you may be disappointed but these disappointments and tears have already been before they were. Sometimes delays are just recesses to give you time to learn a lesson or to give you time to avoid a mistake or a mishap. 

So I saw that there is nothing better for a person than to enjoy their work, because that is their lot. For who can bring them to see what will happen after them?

Ecclesiastes 3 vs 22

This is all I have for us today. I’m really sorry for the long silence, school work is overwhelming right now and I promise I will get back to the table once things get clearer. 

Happy Easter in advance. 
Love you all. 
Cheers.

WASH DAY ft  HAIRVEDA DEEP CONDITIONING MASQUE

Hello people! I’m sorry I have not been talking about my hair for a long while now.  I have been busy trying to manage time. The only way I have been keeping other parts of this blog going is by writing anytime I’m free. Unfortunately, I wasn’t giving much time to my Natural Hair Journey and I feel guilty.

Anyways, remember I told you that this year I was going to change things up a little by trying out branded products? I have always been a DIY person but this year I decided to create a branded regimen. My DIY regimen remains efficient but variety is the spice of life no?

I am going to share with you my wash day experience with a product I bought on sizelle.com (you should check them out). I saw it on naijagirlnextdoor.com. She did a review on this product and she bought it on sale too from sizzelle. I quickly rushed to the site and luckily for me, it was still on sale so I ordered for one. I got it a few days later but couldn’t use it immediately because I was on a protective style.

Continue reading

STORY – ONYINYE’S TALE 2

 

She got home at around 7 pm and performed her daily evening routine. She first unlocked her door, slammed it shut behind her, took off her heels and put them by the door and then hung her keys on the ‘key nail’ as she liked to call it. After that, she dropped her hand bag which also contained her laptop on her reading desk, and then headed for the kitchen to make sure there was food to eat before she took of her clothes.

 

“Phew, this beans didn’t spoil, thank God!” she said in relief.

 

She then took off her clothes and stuffed them into the laundry basket.

 

“How can someone mess up so many clothes in one weekend?” she said to herself as the struggled with the clothes in the rubber basket.

 

When she won the war between man and fabric, she finally stepped into the bathroom for the warm shower she had been dreaming of all day. The harmattan had dealt with her today and her studio partners refused to put off the AC. She always wondered if they had skins of leather. Especially David, he always had the sleeves of his pure cotton shirt rolled up while she on the other hand, had a vest, a jacket and neck tie on and she still felt  cold.

Continue reading

STORY – ONYINYE’S TALE

She rushed out of her apartment, half-greeted Mrs. Okon her neighbour and didn’t even double-check to see if she actually slammed her door shut. The compound where she lived wasn’t exactly by the main road so she had to pull off her heels and run towards the road to flag down a bus on time. Her boss had already warned her about her lateness, especially on Monday mornings. She never understood why she always made it late to work on Mondays. Maybe it was simply because she hated Mondays, I mean who didn’t?!

When she got to the main road, she walked to the nearest bus stop and stood in line to wait for the next bus.

“Excuse me” someone said from behind her. “Excuse me, hey, I’m talking to you” he said again.

“Not this morning” she muttered to herself. She always expected this every morning and before she turned around to reply such, she said a little prayer to God: “Please let him have sense, please”.

“Yes?” she finally replied

Continue reading

The Multifaceted Butterfly

800px-TwoLorenzOrbits.jpg“We can be whatever we want to be and do whatever we want to do…all we have to do is dream it and work towards it” – says almost everyone these days.*Yuck* That my friend is a myth (I stand to be corrected). It doesn’t always work that way.

For multitalented people – those who have the ability to different things from sometimes unrelated fields- we cannot all be what we want to be, neither can we do all that we want to do. We can only achieve 50% (or thereabout) of what we want to do or be and most times at a huge cost- mostly psychologically and sometimes emotionally. Now, I am not going to bother you all and myself with the numbers and scientific evidence. Why should I, when I am already a living proof? Why should I bother with the scientific gibberish when I know some others just like myself?

One time, I tried having a conversation with a friend who was multi potential and sent a text that read “Sup”. Her reply was, “My dear, I am stressed and almost confused… I am getting fat from stress eating … I always have gas in my system … I have zero fun …the heat is unbearable … there hasn’t been light for the past one week here…” Jesus!!! All I asked was “Sup” and she poured out all of that and more. But you know what, I understood. I really did. These complaints are just a small part of the price we pay for being creatively multitalented. I call it the BUTTERFLY EFFECT – the consequences of being multifaceted like a butterfly.

Here is the thing – some of us are so multitalented, so much so that we are capable of doing many things; and contrary to popular belief, it can be really frustrating and confusing choosing what to do – career wise and especially after graduation.

Take these butterflies for example (not using real names):

°Rose studied Mass communication as a course, designs and sews as well, writes and blogs and is also a public speaker and female MC.
°Ken is studying Economics, is a bad ass songwriter and rapper, a mean photographer and sketch artist.
°Linda is studying architecture, a bad ass professional dancer, and also a writer and blogger and sometimes a doodler.
°Fina studies law, is a great doodler and sketch artist, a writer and sometimes dabbles with jewellery making, which is actually good at.
°Ada studied Economics and is a good radio presenter. She is a bad ass accessory and jewellery designer and maker, content developer and writer and sometimes doodles quirkily.

These people and so many others have been blessed with more than talent and I know most of you would be wondering what the problem is exactly because all you see is one person with so many options to choose from- especially as a source of income.

Yes, we have so many options for future careers but the downside is, we struggle greatly deciding which path to follow and which choice would be more optimal. The process to choosing can be very chafing and oftentimes, turn into a state of depression. During this process, we tend to lose friends and shut people out – only very few of them understands and are very supportive. Some people would perceive you as ‘unserious’.

So to my fellow butterflies, here is my two-piece: There are and would be many periods of anxiety and self-doubt, but it ‘dun’ matter. The first thing we should do is to let go of the need for approval – even from ourselves and just do the first thing that feels right. Never try to overthink things because that’s when the self-doubt and negativity begins to work its way into our heads. Make your circle small and never ever try to explain yourself and your dreams/goals (consistently) to people who don’t understand – some of whom only hear what you say but don’t listen. And according to Lisa Rivero, ‘Optimal adjustment’ is key; that is finding a blend between personal abilities, personal preferences, and requirements and rewards (especially from workplace environment). And for heaven’s sakes, you are allowed to make mistakes – after all, you have so many options at your fingertips.

And to the people (parents, friends, etc.) who have these double-edged sword of giftedness around them…learn to identify that we are really different people and that the process of “toughen up” or “being serious” with our lives and exactly what we want to do would only take longer time when you tend to badger and make us seem stupid.

STORY- I ASKED FOR FUN 2

Later that night while we were having dinner, I decided to share my new discovery with everyone.

“Daddy, why didn’t you tell us that papa had a second wife?” I asked


 

“Second wife kwa? Who told you that?” he asked

“Ahn ahn, the boy that lives in that small house behind nau. The last son of papa’s second wife” I continued.

“Hian. There is nobody living in that house. You have come again with your mischief. Please don’t scare your siblings. First you were complaining about the food, now you’re coming up with scary stories” he replied in dismissal.

“But-”

“Ekene will you shut up and stop being stubborn. Eat your food and stop scaring your siblings” my mum interrupted.

My parents never gave me a chance to talk. I felt adopted at this point. It was almost as if they hated me. I didn’t care anyway because I had someone to talk with now.

The next two days went very well for me. I wasn’t bothered about the food or the prayers anymore because I always looked forward to gisting with Peter. I would go there and stay for hours and then leave when I suspected that my mum was looking for me. The best thing about it all was that nobody ever noticed I was gone. I guess they were too bored or something. On the fourth day, during our conversations, I decided to ask about the old man I saw twice at the window and in front of the house. He told me that it was his sick uncle who was always asleep. After I asked this question, Peter suddenly became distant and quiet and I became uncomfortable and so I decided to leave earlier than usual and probably come back another time.

I told him I was leaving and he followed me and closed the door behind. I was walking out of the porch when I saw my dad.

“Ekene! What did I tell you about that building? Do you want to wound yourself? Are you stupid?” he said as he walked towards me. “What were you doing in that house?”

“Papa, I told you that grandpa’s son lives there, you refused to listen to me.” I replied “One fair tall guy stays there. His name is Peter. How come you don’t know him?”

“Peter? This girl are you sure you are okay? Come and show me the person” he said as we walked back to the house.

When we got there, I knocked on the door the first time.

“Peter!”

I knocked the second time and to my surprise, the door fell off it’s hinges to the floor inside the house. This was odd, we stepped inside the house and it was like a dream.

The sitting room was full of logs of wood piled up at a corner, there were thick cobwebs everywhere. The floors made a squeaky sound every time we moved around. The furniture looked very old and worn out. There were rodents everywhere. I looked up and a part of the ceiling had fallen off leaving a gaping hole there. It was like the house had gone about 100 years into the future all of a sudden.

“B-but, I sat here, right here” I said pointing to the smaller couch. “Peter sat here. W-we were talking and eating. Just here.” I was confused.

Continue reading

STORY- I ASKED FOR FUN 1

When my mum announced to us a week ago that we were going to the village for our Christmas holiday, I felt like slapping the excitement off her face because I didn’t understand it. In plain terms, I hated my village. There was no network to chat, no electricity during the day, and I had no friends to talk to there. My dad is the eldest in the family and so he has the oldest kids, all we had was ourselves and smaller cousins who couldn’t understand or speak English. It was terrifying.

For the past one week, we had been having the same daily routine. We would wake up at six to pray with the other families in the compound. I never understood the songs they sang or the prayers they said because it was all in my native dialect. My mum usually gave me the stare during these prayers because I simply kept mute and looked around like I was in a museum. After prayers, breakfast would be served from the communal local kitchen that always made my eyes water with all the smoke from burning firewood. It was either fried plantain with pap or tea and bread. No indomie, no eggs, nothing!

The last time I complained to my mother about the food and my father overheard it, I got the shouting of my life.

“You are still 16 and under my roof! What I have, you eat! If you do not like the food, go hungry or get a job. Nonsense!”

Oh lord, when was it going to end?!

The worst part of my day was taking my bath. The bathroom was about six meters away from the main house and not only was it untiled and slippery, you had to walk all the way back to the house with the harmattan breeze drying you up, making you cold and cracking your already cracked lips. This happened to me on the first four days of our stay until I devised a means to manage it: early baths.

I woke up as early as 5 o’clock and took my bath behind our house before it was time for prayers and that solved it all for me. Or did it?

Continue reading