I AM CHINWE- THIS IS MY STORY

Reblogged from WELCOME TO AROME AMEH'S BLOG:

Hi all,
This is a little story I want to share, it's a tale of pain,sorrow and remorse , and as always I will appeal that you read it and make sense of it, and share it.

The names, dates and events have been altered, so any similarities are entirely coincidental.

I stood in line behind her trying to get a doughnut at an eatery, been a while I had a doughnut, so I was willing to endure the chatter of a young lady in front of us, she seemed engrossed with her mobile phone, typing away, receiving calls and describing what she had on, and looking around as if expecting to see someone, it was getting quite annoying and I soon realized I was not the only one feeling that way, the lady in front of me shared the same notion and hissed loudly between intervals, I would later learn why she was so open in showing her distaste.

Read more… 2,721 more words

This could have been anyone, that is the most chilling part. We have all made friends off social media, Twitter especially. Some more than others. May God bless us all with the spirit of discernment and good judgement.

A Promise Is A Promise

“There is one universal truth, applicable to all countries, cultures and communities: violence against women is never acceptable, never excusable, never tolerable.” – Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon

This year, the conversation revolves around ending violence against women. This is a topic I’m particularly concerned about, people constantly ask me: “why do you write so much about rape and molestation of women?” Well, if in writing, one less woman is raped, one more person is made aware of the perils women face, one more woman is armed to protect herself and other women around her, then my job is done. I write about it because I am tired of speaking about this matter in hushed tones, because women everywhere are getting raped and barely anything is being done about it.

Worldwide today:

• Up to 50% of sexual assaults are committed against girls under the age of 16.
• Globally, 603 million women live in countries where domestic violence is not yet considered a crime.
• Up to 70% of women in the world report having experienced physical and/or sexual violence at some point in their lifetime.
• Over 60 million girls worldwide are child brides, married before the age of 18

The entire world is talking about the achievements of women, yet the increasing cases of rape, murder, molestations, abuse, depravation and neglect of women begs the question: are we ready to celebrate women in their entirety on this day or is it another one of those honorary days we set aside that don’t really mean anything? Organizing gatherings and functions to make soothing speeches praising women’s courage, perseverance, strength and contributions to society in the name of women’s day hardly holds water if the women we celebrate still do not feel safe in their own country(ies). We need to have a society where a woman does not feel the need to watch what she wears or says because she fears she might be molested or raped; where women are not afraid to speak out against unspeakable cases of injustice against them; where the perpetrators of this injustice are no longer protected by flimsy laws and lawmakers who are afraid to get their hands sullied.

Masculine (and sometimes feminine) violence against women can only be stopped by following a holistic approach towards it in every level of society. The government alone cannot be held responsible for the ongoing incidents of rape and molestations until the entire society understands that the onus lies on them to treat women and girls with respect and equality. It is very essential to create an environment of respect, peace and non-violence in every house from the root level to protect the pride and honor of women. Parents need to educate their male children that it is NOT okay to raise their hands against women; that they are not allowed to take advantage of women; that just because they are married to a woman does not make it okay to forcibly have sexual relations with her.

The time has come for the entire nation to have a rethink on the degrading status of women in the country. Respecting women should not be limited to a single day of International Women’s day but should be a daily phenomenon. Respecting our mothers, sisters, wives and friends is not just a matter of one day but a lifetime responsibility that should come internally.

Here’s hoping today will mark a new beginning. Here is hoping we all take a firm resolution to act sustainably in order to end violence against women, so that the incidents like ABSU rape and the Delhi gang rape are not repeated. Here’s hoping we all join hands to build a viable society where the pride and dignity of a woman are strongly upheld.

To the future: here’s a promise. Happy International Women’s Day!

Christmas on the StreetZ

“Mom, you don’t like pineapple, do you?” Chike’s little voice came from the kitchen behind us, as Uche and I were curled up on the couch, watching TV.

“What are you doing?”  Silence from my chattering five year old is never golden.  In fact, it’s a sign of trouble.  I turned and there he was;  sitting on the kitchen floor in front of the store, unloading boxes and cans of food and ingredients into a neat pile.

“We have lots of food,”  he announced, “those kids on TV didn’t have any.  We’ll just put it in a box and mail it to them.”

I knew exactly what Chike was referring to.  Only 15 minutes earlier, there had been talk on the news about children in Makoko suffering because their homes had been taken from them, many were starving alongside their parents and relatives.

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It’s that time of the year; the one where we light up the house with Christmas decorations. It’s also that time of the year where we exchange gifts or we give to those who don’t have enough.

So please join us this year as we do something different. If you have followed the news this year, at one point or the other you would have heard of the displaced settlement known as Makoko. They barely have enough infrastructures to be called a community but that is what they are.

This is why on December the 25th, we are planning on having lunch with as many residents there as possible. Mostly the children and as many adults as we can get around to. And this is where we need you all to come in. We will be accepting monetary donations no matter how little to make this happen. So please feel free to give us as much as you can afford.

Remember “Tis the Season!!We are still in the process of setting up an account but if you feel you want to be among the elite that will start our campaign with us, please feel free to contact us right away… And as much as we need monetary assistance, we will also want more people to get involved. So please get at us. We will also be needing volunteers that will come out to the community with us on that day! More information will be put out shortly!Got questions? Of course you do!Contact us:

Ada (for GTN)
Twitter: @ada_d_body
Tel: 08187145234
Email: gettalkingnaija@gmail.com

Maddy
Twitter: @madphury
(Same email and number)

Embers

I watch him dress up and pack his things. He is leaving again – of that much I’m certain of – how long he’s going to be gone for? Now that’s the tricky part.

I lie there, watching him, eyes glazed. I can still taste his lips on mine, feel his hands gently caressing my body, his tongue flicking over my nipple in that slow, seductive way I’d come to love, I can feel him moving inside of me…the aftermath of our lovemaking always leaves me dazed. My chest constricts when I think of how much I’m going to miss him and I wonder yet again why I let him keep doing this to me, to us.

At that moment he looks up and catches me staring. He smiles and I find myself hurtling down the swift express of memory lane, transported back to when we first met.

It had been at my cousin’s wedding; I was the maid of honor, him-the groomsman. When I first saw him, my heart had beat up a crescendo. He had all the physical features I looked out for in a man: tall, light-skinned, and absolutely gorgeous, with abs that would make Liam Hemsworth green with envy. I was gone and so was he. For the most part, we were lost in a world of our own; a world of brown eyes and dazzling smiles, of wordless conversations and unspoken promises.

“I don’t know about you but this wedding has been an absolute torture! I hate weddings, I think they are such a sham.” He’d said when the wedding finally came to an end. I remember gasping and protesting vehemently about how weddings were absolutely beautiful especially when the couple were young and so in love…
“Thou doth protest too much, can I have your number so we can talk about all the trimmings of a wedding over lunch tomorrow?” He’d cut in with that disarming smile, I was powerless to resist.

The next day, we had lunch, then dinner, then went back to his place and spent the entire night together. We talked about any and everything; I had that nagging feeling of déjà vu – like we’d done this before, like we’d known each other forever. He was Yinka to Yetunde. my When I woke up the next morning in his t-shirt, on his bed…I knew that was where I wanted to be forever.
(I can almost feel your dirty minds running amok – don’t worry, we hadn’t done anything…yet. )

The aroma of food wafted into the room and my belly growled in response, I padded down the hallway to the kitchen to find what was cooking. There I saw him; he had laid out a full English breakfast on a tray and was about to bring it to me, in bed. I couldn’t believe it!
There I was in all my early morning glory – tousled hair, no make-up, nipples pressing against the fabric of the tee, eyes puffy and mouth probably stinking…
“You look so beautiful” he said as he saw me, then he walked over and took my mouth in his. That was easily the best kiss ever! My toes curled and I arched my back to fully accommodate the length of his body. I kissed him right back, the next thing we knew our clothes were coming right off. I don’t remember much of what happened next but I do remember the breakfast tray clattering to the floor as we put the kitchen counter to good use.

And so our whirlwind romance began.

In the space of one year, we had gone through 3 breakups, each reconciliation grander than the last. He loved me, that much I knew and each time he returned, we tried to focus more on making the most of the time we had together thank fretting over when he was going to up and disappear again. He was terrified of commitments, he told me. This may have had something to do with his mother walking out on him and his dad when he was 7. His longest relationship had lasted all of one month before he bolted. He saw no need for a relationship, much less marriage. He had lots of female friends, some had benefits – he was happy.

Then he met me.

Everything had changed for him since then he said, he wanted to wake up with me in his arms. He wanted to share every bit of his life with me: the good, the bad and the downright ugly. He wanted to spend eternity making me smile…

So do then I had told him. ‘Cos if there was one thing I wanted the most in life, it was to spend it loving him in all entirety…

Then he fled again. And returned. And the vicious cycle continues. And once again I’m lying in bed willing him not to leave, not to mortgage our love on the altar of personal prejudice. Not to leave my body and soul bereft of emotion again.

But alas, he doesn’t listen. He never does.

This Rock, This Dream, This River

For Chinny

Someplace,

Far beyond

The seas of dear remembered kisses

On the shores of dreams that might have been,

Stands colossal, this Rock

Of beauteous black and bold womanhood,

Formidably enshrined upon our earth

As giver of that thing with feathers

That miraculously perches in souls

This Rock grandeza

Time after time, age after age,

Forever.

 

This sweet and comely River

From out our eastern stream,

Is diamond of the first waters

And Illuminator of the feminist dream,

Flows eternal.

This sweet El río…

 

Child,

You’re what love has given

And where it’s magic breathes;

Where dreams feed their dreams

And whom they’ve dreamt to be:

 

A golden rose on a bronzed valley of silvered lilies,

Where summer’s warmth greets winter’s moonlight;

A kiss of jazz verbosely saxed on our lips,

Crescendo’d to ends to the soul’s delight.

This Dream is Chinny.

 

Sing! O’ muse

For this custodian to soo much loveliness

For this child,

Upon whom age smiles prettily

For this giver of that thing with feathers…

Sing!

For this Rock this Dream this River,

Time after time, age after age,

Forever.

 

Thank you dear Voke.

It’s My Birthday!!!

Finally!!!!

I wasn’t sure if I was going to write anything here today but I knew I needed to somehow put my thoughts down.

I’m not even going to lie, this past year has been pretty amazing for me. Great things happened in my personal life, my career and my education. I’m so grateful to God for always staying faithful to me and everyone around me.

Last year, I made some of you write me poems, which was great. This year, I’m just going to thank everyone who I’ve had the opportunity of interacting with this past year: the amazing people who have come to become friends; the friends who became strangers and everyone else who had an impact on my life this year. Thank you for leaving those footprints on the sands of my life. If I could have anything for my birthday I’d ask to have all of you in my life for another year, that a year from now I may wish the same.

God bless you all!

“Sooner or later we all discover that the important moments in life are
not the advertised ones, not the birthdays, the graduations, the
weddings, not the great goals achieved. The real milestones are less
prepossessing. They come to the door of memory unannounced,stray dogs
that amble in, sniff around a bit and simply never leave. Our lives are
measured by these.” -Susan B. Anthony

I’m still collecting gifts sha so holla if you’ve got something nice.

 

Oh and Google personalised my home page. Amazeballs!!!

The Little Gift That Keeps Giving

*clears cobwebs*

Man, has it been one long minute here? I suppose I should apologise for not posting constantly, yes? Truth is I’ve been really busy recently so things may not change even. I will try to sit my butt down and write something soon though, but in the meantime, here’s a story I wrote for Ynaija last month. So, if you missed it, enjoy!

Julie had just begun to work for us that summer. It is a really big company so typically, I didn’t know everyone who worked there; we only got to see each other at the staff canteen during lunch if they came and this was usually the time most of us bonded and forged friendships.

The first time I’d seen her at the canteen, I’d wondered who she was. She was the only one sat alone amongst everyone else in the huge hall. A strange occurrence if there was any as we prided ourselves as being one big happy family. I remember smiling at her the one time she’d managed to look up from her plate of amala round the room. That was the last I saw of her for a while.

About a month later, on a Monday morning, just as I drove into the company lot, I again caught sight of her dashing into the office building. I’d gone on inside after I parked my car only to meet a slight commotion at the reception area. Apparently, Julie had committed a grave error while completing a customer’s transaction and was receiving a great deal of heat from her supervisor who happened to be friends with me. Some of her colleagues stood around pointing fingers at her and whispering about how she was a terrible staff who totally deserved to get the boot.

As she looked up, I saw a terrible sadness in her eyes and my heart went out to her. I walked over to her, squeezed her shoulders gently and whispered:

“Those guys are morons. They really should get lives.”

She looked at me and said, “thanks!” There was a big smile on her face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude.

I went on later to speak to her supervisor about cutting her some slack this one time and generally took her under my wings; we also started going to lunch together.  As it turned out, she lived near me so I drove her home as well. The more time we spent together, the more I realized just how really cool and smart she was. I asked her to hang out with me and my friends that weekend at the spa and the more I got to know her, the more I grew to love her.

Over the next year, Julie and I became fast friends. I watched her grow from that shy, timid junior staff to a self-assertive associate who knew her onions. She made friends with everyone and could hold a conversation with anyone without once fidgeting—a major feat for her too. When our close of financial year came, Julie was nominated staff of that year and was required to give a speech in this guise.

As the hour approached for her to go up and give her speech in front of over one thousand staff, I saw how nervous she was and I hugged her and said: “You’ll be great dear, this is what you do best-be great!” She looked at me with one of those really grateful looks and smiled, “Thanks.”

She commenced giving her speech and amidst thanking everyone who had helped shape her career thus far; colleagues, friends, family, supervisors, she told of the day she had met me, of how overwhelmed she’d felt that day what with problems at home and not delivering at work either. She told of how she’d decided she was going to end it all that day, how she was going to kill herself. She had already bought enough rat poison to knock of an entire herd of rats to OD on but fortunately, God wasn’t having any of that. He had sent her a friend-me who had brought comfort, laughter, happiness and sunshine into her life. Who knew a year ago that she was going to ever be good at her job much less become Staff Of The Year?

She had looked at me again with that look of eternal gratitude and whispered, “thank you”. I had tears pouring down my face by then, indeed there wasn’t a dry face left in that hall.

Who knew that my little act of kindness had saved a person’s life? Who knew that by extending friendship to that sad and lonely girl, I had not only given her hope but had unwittingly given hope to so many generations unborn? Now I never underestimate the power of my actions. I learned that the support of a caring friend can impact someone in ways we may not fully understand and appreciate.

Being a true and loyal friend to someone is the best gift you can give. I hope I can give enough of these gifts in my short journey through life.