How bad could it get??

I wonder why people who have breath in them still complain of hunger...some people wish to be alive!
I wonder why people who have food to eat still complain of overfeeding...some people wish to have just a little!
I wonder why people who have legs to walk still complain of trekking under the hot sun...some people wish they had legs!
I wonder why people who have clothes to wear still complain of old clothes...some people wish they had the clothes you call rags.

I once came across a picture story of a girl who drew a mother on the bare ground and slept inside the image since she had never seen her mother before.
I also came across a picture of children drinking water from a poorly eroded area...more like marshy.
Before you continue with your activity today, take a look at your life and just see how God has favoured and blessed you.
It doesn't matter what you're passing through right now, what matters is the breath in your nostrils!

So I ask again, How worse could your life get? How bad could it get?

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Dear Friend,

On this day last year, I wrote about the buildup of events that led to my dad’s passing. I also said that day started the most chaotic year of my life. I didn’t lie. Today, on the second anniversary of his death, I thought to write to you about grief and how I have dealt with it because, in truth, grief does not leave you; it just gets better. Over the past year, across my social media platforms, I talked a lot about how his death triggered emotions in me that I didn't know existed—new descents into the deep, new levels of highs—anything to get into my emotions or consciously get out of the physically overwhelming feeling that was like a weighted blanket most days. Because I lived quite far from home—up north, to be exact—my guardians broke the news to me at the crack of dawn that Tuesday, and I was broken, as anyone who hears bad news is. I was stumped mostly, but yeah, I was broken. The first person I called was my mom, and on answering the phone, she started to say my oriki , w...

2018- So Much For A New Year

December 31st, 2017. The time is 10:15. My Mum, brother and I are waiting for a couple of minutes to pass by before going to the church just beside my house for the annual cross over service into 2018. My Mum’s phone rings. I pick it up and see that it’s my Aunty. ‘Oh she has even called several times. How didn’t we hear?’ I muttered to myself in Yoruba, my native language. I hurriedly make my way to my Mum’s room to give the phone to her. ‘Mummy’, I say softly a couple of times before giving her the phone. ‘Mummy Branco n pe yin ’ Mummy Branco is calling you. Mummy Branco is what we call my Aunty by. Most people know her as my second Mummy, which is very correct. I watch as my Mum answers the call, definitely still sleepy. Her voice and eyes would clear in seconds when I hear her say ‘Ehn!’ in a high pitch. I definitely knew something was wrong. She hurriedly hangs up and shouts that my Aunty’s husband is in the hospital and on life support and we had to leave immediately. I...

'It has pleased God to call your Dad home'

Photo by Eyasu Etsub on Unsplash 'It has pleased God to call your Dad home'. I went cold. My arms and feet. January 22nd, 2021 I was on my way home from work when my brother called. He asked for our family -read government- hospital card number. It was a very odd question because my dad had retired -as a civil worker- and we no longer used the card for consultation. In fact, we had been told on several occasions that they had taken his card 'off the shelf'. Besides my brother had his own card at the same hospital, being a government staff. So the question was very weird on all fronts. I told him I could not remember the exact number but gave him two or three numbers that came to my head at that time. I asked what the problem was and he s...

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