Author: A.

2013: Mistreated, Misplaced, Misunderstood. 2017 Update: I am not mistreated or misplaced. Maybe a bit misunderstood but aren't we all? I'm just trying to write myself back to sanity on the days where my thoughts feel overwhelming. 2019 Update: God is good, life is beautiful and enjoyment is my middle name because the thing fit me die. 2025 Update: I’m a whole doctor of philosophy? All of my writing skills went into my thesis, sorry lol Enjoy :)
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Stop Calling Me.

‘A!A!’
One of the numerous deranged voices in my head calls out to me. Unwilling to listen, determined to ignore, I strolled calmly down the crooked path I found myself in. It was my first month in this city and I loved the warm sun smiling down upon me; the calm but noticeable breeze in my hair; the sound of hummingbirds singing in accord..a tune I had heard in the past perhaps.  Relocating to Sinhatol was probably the wisest choice I might have ever made. A new job, new environment, new apartment which I shared with my boyfriend and…

‘A!A!’
A multitude of voices in my head called out to me in unison. 

He was being dodgy and I new it. From the newly found insecurities to the late night texts to missing chats and the occasional mention of my name for no apparent reason. I wonder if they ever…

******

At the bottom of the rocky path was a small secluded park which looked very well maintained. With just about a handful of people, it was masked with silence. Humans walked passed with their tongues in their bellies and their eyes heavy. There was something peculiar about this vicinity and so I ventured in.

I occupied an old, worn out bench right in front of the waterfall and mini pond. The fountain was beautiful, fresh water flowed through the rear end of a well designed mermaid and spurted out in a seemingly amusing manner through the lips of the ornament. From it’s lips, through the air and splat! Into the mini pond which housed an array of colourfully patterned fishes. They ever so often slid past each other almost as if implying sexual association just like Chigozie and his multiple side bitches. Never in my life could I ever had thought that my own lover would treat me in such…

‘A!A!’
They were calling out louder and more determined and I was slowly losing the urge to ignore them. I wanted to think about it. Wanted to analyze the situation. Be the defendant, judge and jury at the same time.

I loved deeply, fell hopelessly, trusted wholeheartedly and got hurt in the worst possible manner. ‘The heart of man is wicked’ my mum always said. I left my life for this? My job, friends, social life, ex? My ex was the most a…

‘A!A!’
They’re calling out to me again. I don’t know what to think about and what to forget. What to condemn and what to overlook. My head is heavy but not as heavy as my eyelids which are now pouring out their saltiness in order to relieve me of the betrayal that I feel.

My wisest choice ever was ironically the daftest one as well.

‘A!A!’
– Stop calling me!

A.

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You.

You are my 3am thoughts,
My midnight fantasies, 6pm concerns,
And the reason for my stomach knots.
In your departure, I await your return,
not because of lust or comfortability,
But pure amicability.

You are my Saturday night live,
My Sunday’s rest,
And my incentive to thrive.
The reason I feel blessed,
Motivated, Assertive,
Worth the while, attractive.

You are my tamed imaginations,
And my wild thoughts.
A special creation,
From our Saviour’s precious mould
You are gold,
Diamond, riches untold.

And if this is all I get
In this life of sin,
Then it’s the one thing I won’t forget
One piece of memory that’ll remain within.

Me.

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The Cancer Germ.

Hi,

My name is Ada. Well, my name was Ada up until strange family members began clustering round my tiny white bed. In the past year, I’ve heard people call me all sorts of names. ‘Adaugo’ ‘Adaobi’ ‘Adamma’ ‘Adanna’ ‘Adaaku’ and many more names that I’m not familiar with but I answer because it might be rude to ignore.

I guess I should tell you more about why I am on a tiny white bed or why I have family surrounding me. So here it goes…

In the beginning I only had slight headaches. The type my friends and I get when we play out in the garden for too long. Then my bones started to hurt. I thought this meant I was secretly turning into a superhero so, I kept my little secret. It wasn’t until I couldn’t get out of bed that mother rushed me to the doctors and ever since then, things got worse. I’ve had nose bleeds and heartaches. I always thought only boys could break your heart but I guess I was wrong. I’ve heard the television lies anyway so, I’m not surprised.

Month after month, I kept getting worse and nobody could do anything but hope. I hoped too that one day, I would stop hurting. Soon, I started changing. My eyes were yellowing and my skin got paler. My chubby cheeks went so thin; I could see my skull. We learnt about skulls in science class so I would know. I was skinny…’lepashandi’ as we usually called it. My cousins would always say I looked like Agbani and once I got better, I would win Miss World. Being a beauty queen was one of my dreams. After that, I would also want to be a lawyer like my mummy and an economist like my daddy when I grow up. I want to have three jobs so that I could be rich and smart.

While the number of family members who visited decreased, mother stayed by my side all day, everyday. She mostly cried which hurt me but I had to be strong because I was the Ada. The first daughter of my family, our family. I know mummy might be ten hundred thousand years older than me but she was not the first daughter so, she never grew strength like I did and I don’t blame her. I will never blame her which is why I have to stay strong for us.

I always wondered why mummy never left because back at home, she would not go near daddy when he had germs. She said germs were contagious – a word I forgot to look up in the dictionary. She also said she didn’t like going close to germs. I have always known her to run away from germs only, I have the germ too and mine is deadly.  I know this because Jeremy, my doctor said so and I was scared of giving it to mummy. Jeremy also says it’s hard to explain germs to 9 year olds but he named my germ ‘Cancer’. What an odd name. I mean, I’d have preferred Emeka or Uchenna…maybe Uchendu. Those were the names of all the naughty boys in my class and mother always said bad behaved children had germs so I had to stay away from them if I didn’t want to be naughty too. I guess I got a different type of germ because I am far from being a naughty child.

Being on this white bed has come with constant weeping, prayers and forced smiles. I slept through most of it so, it was all just background noise to me. Noise I wish they would have stopped but, I understand. I also went through complicated procedures (a new word I leant and would use in my next English essay). I wish I could have told you about my experience but, it was all a blur to me because my brain was too focused on the pain to make memories.

It wasn’t until time stood still and my pain was no longer constant that I knew things were different. I had left my tiny hospital bed.

***

I know I said my name is Ada but that really isn’t my name anymore. This may sound strange but my name changed the day I slept and woke up here. Here in heaven, the grown ups call me Marvelous and it has a nice ring to it. I’ve always wanted a longer name, always wanted an English name too.

It’s beautiful here and Elohim says I can stay forever which is perfect seeing as my little germ is completely gone. How do I know this? Well, I can sing and dance and pray out loud without pain. Nobody here has germs so I’m not scared of catching bad behaviour from naughty children. Mother must be so proud.

Sometimes I miss my mummy but I can always look down on her and tell her how much I love her. Sometimes she looks back at me and smiles like she sees me. I miss her very much but Elohim says she’ll be joining us soon and I can’t wait because I can’t bear to see mother suffer alone without her Ada.

Love,
A
xx

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Update. 

This has been an amazing blogging year for me seeing as I’ve had a new post up almost every week. I don’t know where these creative juices are coming from but, they’re really flowing into my poetry. Regardless, I do feel like my pieces are starting to sound somewhat repetitive. By repetitive, I mean most of my poetry seems to be centred around the same topic. This isn’t bad at all but I’ve been itching to branch out a bit. Although, a majority of my posts would be depressing poems. Is this really the beautiful beast in me if there isn’t dark poetry being published?

In terms of ideas, I’ve been thinking of maybe taking part in challenges. I like this because the topics are usually so different to what I’m used to writing about. I’ve also had my friend suggest I write think pieces. This may prove challenging because I mostly only have strong opinions on things that deeply affect me and it’s extremely difficult to express myself in writing alone. One thing I’ve realised is I love talking because you get to express yourself with body language, facial expressions, tone of your voice etc. How do you capture all of this in writing alone? Hmm. I’m also considering featuring my YouTube beauty videos here and maybe writing stories as opposed to strictly poetry. 

There’s a variety of things to do but stepping out of my comfort zone is a scary journey that I cannot wait to embark on. What sort of things would you like to see on my blog?

Love,
A
X

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Unforgiving. 

My body harboured hate,
So deeply rooted, it took years to eradicate.
Years to reestablish human affection.
But now on my own road to redemption,
You show up like an unwanted guest at the dinner table.
I’m trying to stay sane but my mind remains unstable.
I beg you to leave and you apologise,
Like words erased memories,
And apologies were verbal remedies,
For heartaches and disappointments combined.
Like I was dumb enough,
To run back to a into a version of love that moved on and left me behind.
I forgave you for leaving,
But I would never forgive you for coming back to a love that you don’t deserve.

A.

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It Wouldn’t Matter A Year From Now.

*I want you to know that it’s perfectly okay for you to sit and admire this beautiful picture of mine.*

Recently I’ve been in the habit of over sharing with a select few members of the population. By select few, I mean one person but allow me to exaggerate for a minute will ya?

In the spirit of sharing, I would very reluctantly tell you beautiful people a super cool, semi deep and possibly weird story. Here it goes…

In the Summer of 2015, I made it a habit to write myself letters. I suppose this makes me somewhat mentally retarded as it is the silent, less profound version of talking to myself. Anyway, all of my letters were beautifully composed in my notes and they were all surprisingly well written considering the fact that they were for my eyes only. ‘So what did these letters entail?’ You may ask. Well, I was about to explain in the next chapter if only you waited.

If each year of my life was a new chapter of my autobiography and I could name them, 2015 would be called “the beginning of the end”. This is because at that point in my life, I knew that my tolerance levels for ignorance had peaked and so, I began to write myself out of my situation.

We all deal with things differently and so, we heal differently. I don’t like people constantly telling me I deserve better because I’d hate to eventually depend on validation from anybody. Which is why I’d much rather come to the realisation on my own and then constantly speak words of encouragement and affirmation to myself until I begin to believe them. It’s how I heal, it’s how I grow. I did all of this without stepping out of my situation and although it looked dumb af, it worked haha. Trust the process ladies and gentlemen.

So back to the title of this post. ALL of my letters to myself started with ‘Hey baby’ but most importantly, ended with ‘it wouldn’t matter a year from now. I love you’. I LOVE YOU. Do you love you? Would this really matter a year from now?

One thing I absolutely love about life is how dynamic everything is. We all live in a world where pain is relative and emotions are temporary. Life is fluid – priorities go from being at the bottom of the list to making it to the top or vice Versa as the years go by. Things are constantly being put into perspective and our realities are constantly being redefined. That thing that gave you sleepless nights for months no longer seems relevant. Remember that toy you lost and cried over for days? Or that relationship you were so invested in, breaking up was your biggest fear. Isn’t it funny how you literally feel nothing for said person now?

In June 2010, I was convinced that I had found the love of my life. He wasn’t Yoruba but we were going to make it work, we were going to get married, we were going to have a family and our first daughter was going to be called Nkem. Imagine the state of my fragile heart when communication seized. I was in shambles but guess what, I was also convinced in December 2010 that I had found the real love of my life…and again in 2011 summer, 2011 Christmas, 2012 summer, 2012 Christmas…are we noticing a trend here? The point is none of the previous loves of my life mattered months after so, I would often feel stupid for stressing and overreacting and just letting certain things bother me a lot more than they should have.

IT WOULDN’T MATTER A YEAR FROM NOW.

I have since learnt that there is no point stressing and overthinking and overanalysing situations. No point giving up and losing hope and shrinking myself because of temporary set backs. This is because most of the time, my current problems aren’t relevant in the grand scheme of things and in situations where they are, I think logically for a suitable strategy and move on.

Life is too short to focus on the things that wouldn’t matter a year from now especially when it comes to relationships (seeing as my blog is mostly centered around this topic). So I have grown to love loving people. As it is just as permanent as it is temporary. I really have gotten to a point where how I feel about someone is independent of how they feel about me. None of that ‘do they feel the same’ ‘maybe I should not say this so they don’t think that’. I just love recklessly while enjoying the connection and the surge of emotions. I would love the hell out of you whether you like it or not so don’t make me fall in the first place 😒. That is until the day my fragile heart can’t handle unrequited love and I mope around for a bit, analyse where I went wrong, write a few poems and eventually move to the next love experience. At the end of the day, none of my past hurt would matter by the time I’m ready for my new love and I would have learned so much, I’d come back a better lover than I was. Life is beautiful isn’t it?

You gotta live life and experience experiences. Really converse in conversations and fal inlove with love like your life depended on it. No matter what the outcome turns out to be, 90% of it wouldn’t matter a year from now. Don’t get me wrong, it wouldn’t disappear automatically but, you grow out of it. You grow out of hate, out of self loathing, out of regret etc. It’s a learning experience, a learning curve and you come out a better version of your old self each time which is amazing.

P.s. I don’t condone living life like there aren’t sometimes permanent consequences for your actions. What I’m saying is for every situation that looks bad, it is important to remind yourself not to dwell on it for too long. This is mostly because dwelling on the negatives never ends well but also because in a year from now, it probably wouldn’t matter. A better use of your time could be devising a solution or determining what went wrong so the same incident doesn’t occur twice.

Remember, it wouldn’t matter a year from now.
I LOVE YOU
A.

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What’s Your Christian Journey Like?

I wrote this back in march and I wasn’t sure if I was going to post it or not but, here it goes…

I think like most people, I grew up in the church. We had house fellowships and a whole new rccg (Jesus house) parish had originated from one of our frequent fellowships. Following that, I went to highschool in Lagos and although it wasn’t a religious school in particular, the word was constantly being preached to us.

We had devotions every morning. Both in hostel and after breakfast. We were also blessed with a woman of strong faith as our housemistress. So, for every concern that you would take to her, the first response would be ‘pray about it’ or ‘let me pray with you’. It was in high school that I really got to build on my faith. I had started to read the word with a lot more understanding and generally draw so close to God, it was unbelievable. I also began to read the bible in a year which I haven’t finished 8 years later. Shame.

Fast forward to college where I slowly started to withdraw. I never understand why people say ‘fell off track’ because the truth is nobody falls off anything. They start to slowly walk away from the route that they were initially on. Imagine you’re supposed to be walking in a straight path but each day, you walk 10 degrees away from the initial path. Eventually, you’d be on a whole new journey in a whole new direction and that was me. I started to worry more, read my bible less and of course, pray less.

This got 100 times worse in uni. I would go months without acknowledging the existence of God. Studying science makes believing in religion so much harder because how can I bring myself to believe that God created me when I am fully aware of the central dogma. How can I pray for healing when I know about signalling pathways and the body’s inability to sometimes correct certain ailments…I took a module on the biochemical basis of diseases for Godsake . It was just tough. Coupled with the fact that I was in a whole new world, dealing with problems that I had no business dealing with. Long story short, I was distracted and side tracked into believing that there was a logical solution to every situation. Not God, not miracles not anything but, simple logic and maybe a bit of science.

How did that go for me? Tbh, I turned out okay. Things could have been better if I asked the Holy spirit for direction or if I didn’t feel like I could solve my problems on my own.

It’s 2017 and I’m currently trying to rekindle my relationship with my creator. It is kind of weird because on the days where I remember to pray, I don’t know what to say. My prayers usually start with ‘hey God, do you remember me from 2010?’ It may sound stupid but I don’t know how else to start.

The greatest thing about religion for me is the love of God. I spent the whole of 2016 trying to wrap my head around Gods love for me. Once you realise who you are in Christ, you automatically understand that you are special and you will begin to remove yourself from situations that don’t make you feel special. So relationships, friendships, certain environments too. I would never say christians shouldn’t go here or go there because I am aware of the fact that everyone’s journey is different. I believe that as time goes on, we would all start to weed out parts of our lives that don’t reflect the presence of God in our hearts. That to me is the most important thing.

In the end, I am really happy I grew up in the church because even though I did stray away from religion for a few years, I have the word of God instilled in my heart. So sometimes I find bible passages rolling off my lips. On the days where I feel down and boarderline worthless, I am able to remind myself of the promises of God for his children. It’s funny because the other day, I was speaking to my friend about how somebody in my life was a breath of fresh air because for the first time in a while, I didn’t feel like I was being judged or scrutinised. Following that statement I said ‘this has to be the kind of people that God puts in our lives so we understand what He meant by there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ’. While this might not be the right time to bring up bible passages, I’m just so amazed at how much I can actually retrieve from buried memory.

In summary, my Christian journey is clearly disjointed but the most important thing is that I am willing to know more and grow closer to my creator. There are areas where I fall and areas where I stand tall. Sometimes I cannot hold my tongue and other times, my mouth is shut but my heart conceives evil thoughts which do not reflect God’s presence in my life. At the end of the day, I am human and I would never be perfect.

While you’re here, I’d love for you to enjoy my new favourite song in the whole world. 

What’s your Christian journey like?
A. 

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