Heart Scribbles

  Yipee! After a stressful week, one cannot help but appreciate the gift of weekends, so, thank God it’s Friday (TGIF) and cheers to an awesome weekend. Mummy always loved keeping me very close to her and this is something I fancy talking about. Being posted to Ebonyi state for the compulsory National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) was a “dream come true” for me as it meant travelling far away from home, but my dear mother did not welcome that. In her usual style, she went on an immediate background research on life in Ebonyi (mummy was an informal researcher, lol) and came up with various inferences, the most outstanding of them being that they eat human beings in Ebonyi ( Ewo ! Please o,   does this still happen ?) and that they do not have good water supply in Ebonyi as their water contained maggots ( lol, I still wonder where she got her information from ). I was so excited about travelling to the eastern part of Nigeria that I did not pay attention to her concerns. I told he

  Hello Thursday! I hope your night was as restful as mine. This morning, I did not feel like getting up from my bed, all thanks to the early morning Harmattan breeze. It was so cool that all I wanted was to just stay wrapped in my blanket and keep sleeping for as long as I could sleep. I had to remind myself that my goals were too big to be achieved only in my dreamland and so, if I must move, I have to get up first. I recall with fondness and an inevitable dose of nostalgia my mother’s thoughtfulness and understanding. I had my nursery and primary education at St. Luke’s (Cathedral) Anglican Private School, Jos where my mother taught ( being a teacher’s child is a whole experience on its own ). The day preceding my graduation from the school, I was in school with my classmates for rehearsals. After the rehearsals, we all wandered into various childish discussions when one of my classmates just made a remark that really hit me. He said “I know Deborah will wear gown tomorrow”. ( Y

  Dear Mummy, I still hear your calm voice in my head saying “ don’t cry, I’m not going anywhere, just call Jesus ”. Those were your words as we hurriedly drove you to the hospital in the early hours of 4th November, 2019. I still feel your presence in the house and I see some of your attributes in my siblings. Funny how they also say I talk and act like you. I know if you had a way of fighting death, you would choose to stay with your beloved family, but, no one ever gets sight of the glories of heaven and chooses this terrible world over that joy. It has been one whole year without hearing your voice. Who would think we would ever stay this long without our daily calls, teasing, laughter, arguments, prayers and long gists? ( We could barely stay a day without talking to each other). This one year has been the longest year of my life, as every breaking day gives me hope of seeing you sometime soon. A lot has changed and the house is not the same without you. I want to tell

    Today, I write on the resilience of my dear mother. “ Premium Academy ” is not just a regular family business to me. Of a truth, it holds so many precious memories and it reminds me of the resilience I need to achieve my goals in life. Mummy quit her job as a teacher few months after we moved to Abuja to set up a day care centre to the amazement of everyone. This was one of the numerous courageous steps I saw her take in her lifetime. I had just written J.S.C.E and was on holiday and so, I would follow her to the centre, where we would pray, gist, eat, sleep, wake up, thank God for a successful day and go home ( since we had no pupil then ). This routine continued for a while till we enrolled our first pupil. Despite the very evident odds, my mother did not stop pushing for where she was headed. At a point, she had to move the daycare to the house. Frustrations began to arise from different points, yet my mum will still keep taking care of the babies as her very own. Ea

I used to imagine how emotional my wedding day would be considering the bond between my mum and I. The few times I’ve left home filled me with emotional memories. Recalling them right now gives me nostalgic feelings. The very first time I left home was for boarding school in S.S1. I was initially excited about the thought of leaving the house. The thoughts of not having to do dishes or any other house chore and being missed from the house for a period, so everybody can know your value in the house ( please don’t ask me where I got that philosophy from☺ ). I was so happy to leave the house that I did not even take time to ask what life in G.S.S Bwari looked like ( if you attended a government boarding school, you’d be able to relate ). Mummy made sure I had every necessary thing and maybe a little extra ( yes, she was as caring as that ). On the said day of resumption, the whole excitement and joy of leaving home disappeared as I became emotional and started crying right from the

The month of November is soaked with memories, slices of memories laced with tears, pain, hurt, sorrow and grief. As the month of November gradually unfolds, I am clearly reminded of that one experience that dealt a heavy blow to my family, the loss of my mother. November 4th, 2019 was a traumatic day for my family as we saw our dear icon obey the divine call to glory. I lack the right words to define this experience as it all seemed like a bad dream ( hmmmm... a nightmare that I still can’t wait to wake up from so I can fast, pray and reject it ). This memory still clouds my mind, numerous questions of “what if?” and countless “maybes” have raced through my mind at various times in the past one year. In the midst of these thoughts, feelings and growing experiences that stemmed from the event of November 4th, I find solace in the fact that God is Omniscient, just, intentional and he knows the end of a thing from the beginning. I just wish he gave us some form of prior notice ( ma