Her Story, XI by @duchesskk

Thanks for waiting. In case you missed the preview, find it here, so you know what to expect. If you are not sure what Beneath the Smile is about, please check the preview out.

The project aims at looking beyond the smiles of the next person, to see what’s really beneath, what’s really going on? How people really need help and won’t bother saying anything about it but would rather cover it up with a façade of strength, with a smile.
It’s time to look beneath the smile and lend a helping hand. People are going through real things, these are their stories.

We hope that you’d be kind enough to leave a comment. Your feedback is important to us.

Today’s story was sent in by one of our readers @duchesskk

This is her story.

Please Read.

The ‘Beneath the Smile’ Project.

behind the smile

I don’t know if this is normal, but I remember stuff from when i was 3. Not shadowy memories but real vivid pictures of things I’m sure happened. My story begins from about that time.

At that age i was conscious of the fact that my dad lived somewhere else ’cause every time he came we had special outings: we often went to listen to jazz or just play at the amusement park. I knew my family was happy but I didn’t understand why we had to live apart.
My dad eventually changed jobs and we went to live with him in Jos. The coldest, peaceful place I had ever been in.

In secondary school I remember having just the basic things I needed but somehow people envied me on visiting days because my family would come with lunch and we’d eat together and laugh.

My bond with my dad was so strong. The first time I saw my period I came to where my parents were seated and called my dad aside to tell him. This really upset my mum.
I told my dad almost anything.

It was my sister’s birthday and I was mandated to take food to my neighbours. I heard a knock and when I opened the gate, a man said he wanted to buy eggs from my mom’s poultry. I went to call her but my dad chose to go since she was eating. “who is disturbing my wife at this time?” he asked. I followed closely behind still bent on taking food to the neighbours. We got to the gate and realized the men were armed. As we ran inside I had no fear ’cause my dad was there, ‘He would lock the door then call the police and we would be fine‘- I thought to myself.

When I got into the house I ran to lock the alternative entrance while my mum kept asking confused questions. Then I heard the gunshot.

My dad was gone

…just like that.

I can’t say I know what hell is like but if it’s pain is worse than what I felt that day, then it’s pain is indeed unbearable. That day something died inside me. When I hold up a front and smile it’s ’cause I know the worst thing happened.

My heart still burns for the man who was shot while shielding his family. The same one who gave me life and promised me heaven and earth again and again

I cover it all up, beneath my smile.

• • •

A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?

N.B. The project goes on with Tomorrow’s  ’Her Story, XII’ by an Anonymous writer.

You can still send in your own true stories to obafuntay@gmail.com

You can subscribe to the blog (at the right column to follow the project, if you are viewing with your mobile, just scroll to the end of this page to subscribe)

Advertisements

His Story, VI by @IamNiyiOkeowo

Thanks for waiting. In case you missed the preview, find it here, so you know what to expect. If you are not sure what Beneath the Smile is about, please check the preview out.

The project aims at looking beyond the smiles of the next person, to see what’s really beneath, what’s really going on? How people really need help and won’t bother saying anything about it but would rather cover it up with a façade of strength, with a smile.
It’s time to look beneath the smile and lend a helping hand. People are going through real things, these are their stories.

We hope that you’d be kind enough to leave a comment. Your feedback is important to us.

Today’s story was sent in by one of our readers @iamniyiokeowo

This is his story.

Please Read.

The ‘Beneath the Smile’ Project.

behind the smile

Not everybody smiling, is happy.
Not everybody happy, is smiling.
We are all just good actors who never made it to the oscars – Niyi Okeowo.

“I am happy, that’s just the saddest lie “- kid cudi

I wish could pretend that my life is like this awesome high school movie. Where the underdog becomes the most loved at the end of the movie… Sadly its not… 😦 that sucks…

I lost my father when I was one. -__- How am I supposed to react to the death of someone I never really knew.. That’s what haunts me… ’cause I’m here thinking, what if , what if he was still around , what would have happened to me. Luckily I have a very loving mother and 3 awesome brothers , 3 best girlfriends!!! Lol. Obviously girls that are friends… Not ‘gfs’ -_- that would be awkward… Okay, Niyi shut up.. You’re yarning balls again. -__________-

Nobody really knows what’s going on, beneath that smile, the thoughts you have, how you want to not wake up one day, how you just feel like letting it all go, how you just want to put yourself out of your misery.

10  months ago… My life made so much sense …. I was in love (♥▿♥ʃƪ) it was bliss… Maybe you could say I was lucky being in love with someone who felt the same way. 6 months ago I got what some would say is their dream job… I was designing for one of the biggest banks in West Africa, going all corporate and sh**!! It was the life, I had an awesome girl I loved, good family, my 3 best friends were all doing well.

But when I look back, I realise something…. I was still sad, why? I had everything I wanted, what was wrong? It didn’t make sense. During the day I’d be so happy and excited, and at night I’d pray to God to take my life, I would have committed suicide, but the thought of feeling physical pain, just scares the shit out of me and every night I would pray hoping God would answer me, and days turned into months. God never answered my prayer, I became so tired. I was tired of acting, I just wanted to be alone, but each time I tried pushing people away, they only came back in multiples; made me realise: people will always be there for you. Despite all the love I was getting, I was never really happy.

Something inside of me wasn’t complete. Something was missing. One sadness still stuck. One day I got into a heated fight with a girl and she told me straight to my face…well not straight :p… It was via twitter DM… She said “Niyi, you need to go to your father’s grave, u need prayers”

It hit me hard.

It sunk in. Maybe I’ve been feeling depressed ’cause of the childhood I never had with my late father. It started to make sense. Every time I did something good. I would think of what my father would have said, and instantly, the pain of missing him would come again!!!! Beneath all the fake smiles I had dished out in the past… The emptiness and sadness of missing my late father still stuck in. I had heard stories of how he would travel from work just to visit me, how he loved me, but I never really got to witness that love first hand.

It created a constant need for love, attention and empathy. I had issues. I have issues, then again who doesn’t?

‘Sadman cannot cry in place where man can see’ – Frank ocean

So I have decided, I’m going to travel to his grave and have a talk with it him, man to man and get my life together. I guess this is a story of how I’ve spent my life wishing for something that I can not have…

But hey , who says there isn’t hope out there? I have a step father who has done so well to constantly remind me, that I have a father figure in my life, and maybe that’s all I need. A father .
So beneath all that smile, there’s a little boy, just waiting to see his father one last time. Then again, we are all that little boy, we are all missing someone and one day we will get to see them.

But in the meantime… All u can do is SMILE 😀 ¯\..(•͡.̮ •͡ )../¯ 🙂 :’)

• • •

A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?

N.B. The project goes on with Tomorrow’s  ’Her Story, XI’ by @duchesskk

You can still send in your own true stories to obafuntay@gmail.com

You can subscribe to the blog (at the right column to follow the project, if you are viewing with your mobile, just scroll to the end of this page to subscribe)

#SuperHuman

I know loads of folks believe their father deserves the “Father of the year” award… but heck! they are definitely deceiving themselves :p because I’ve got a Father I call Super-Human.

You may wonder why, so here’s why:

He’s a fantastic role model, he has taught me and shown me a way of life, i never can depart from. My father is a card-carrying member of the verse proverbs 22:6, in the same light of living by the word, he is a devoted follower of that verse we as young ones never really fancied – Proverbs 13:24, yeah, that one they go ranting when they want to whoop your behind. (sparing the rod and spoiling the child)

My father has brought me up to know my left from my right, through tough love I have been saved from a reckless future.

He is the HEAD of our home, my father is a living example of a True Leader, he does not teach us A and practice B, we all live on his Faith, he has such a large faith I wonder how he does It. His trust in God is unquantifiable.

He is a Good man, we all have heard from here and there of how some other home are like, you know; the cheating husband, the wife beater, the gambler, the drunk…you get my drift. I can beat my chest and confidently say he’s non of that. Just yesterday, my mother confessed to me about him saying and I quote  “Funto, your father is a good man”.

Since I can remember, he has never raised his voice against my mother or even a single finger against her.

He is passionate about what he does… my father is a Chartered Accountant but most importantly a Shepherd(a pastor). You know that verse that says: Out of the abundance of the Heart, the mouth speaketh..? now here is what happened one memorable night when I had to wake my dad from the living room to go sleep in his room, he started talking from his sleep, how he thought I went to Russia to save souls and was pretty much pissed that I hadn’t gone; in the midst of all the laughter that night, I had learned something valuable.

I call him SuperHuman

#SuperHuman

Sometimes, I’m tempted to open up his shirt to see if he’s got the Superman outfit on but truth is: God is his muscle #NoJoke … The simple trick is #FollowGod … that way, you too can become #SuperHuman.