@Sirkastiq’s Letter

Welcome to the second project on obafuntaydotcom, The Letter to my unborn child project. If you missed the preview, you can view it here, just so you have an idea what we are up to, as much as the project title, speaks for itself.

Ever thought of writing a letter? Better still, a letter to your unborn child?

What would you name him/her? Why not give your unborn child a name now and write him/her a letter? Yes! Right now! Doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me.

What do you think?

Today, we’d be reading Kelvin’s letter.

Hang in there.

Kelvin's Letter

Kelvin’s Letter

Letter to that nigga

Lol…I’m an idiot.

Mostly because the whole concept of writing a letter to an imagined being is borderline ridiculous and I’m an Idiot for engaging in this. No, let’s be real, I mean how on earth are you going to see this? Do you think I’m going to save this link somewhere and then be like “Yo, my nigga, I wrote some shit for you before you was born, wanna check it out?”

Hell No!

Do you think I want you to see my twitter username? Oh so you can go on the TL and see what manner of douche your dad was? Nah fam, I’m too smart for that. You ain’t smarter than me, you’ve gotta remember that. I shall always be a step ahead or behind you if I need to slap you upside the head. You know, reset your thinking mechanism if need be. Don’t worry, you’ll understand what slaps are as you go on in this race called life.

I’ve read so many people write letters to their unborn kids and I’m just wondering what grade of coca these niggas be sniffing. Some go on like “you are so beautiful, bla bla, the fuck bla” Who are they fooling though? They don’t even know what their kids gon’ look like!!! Just imagine if Segun Arinze had written such a letter. Listen, these letter writers are the ones that become parents and lie to their kids that they came first in school. If you cannot be honest with your kids about their aesthetic features, you might as well hush up and stop lying to them. Ah mean, the lil runts aren’t born yet and you’s already lying to their unformed ass.

Listen my nigga, I ain’t going lie to you ok? If you don’t take my Taye Diggs looks, that’s ok. Just don’t look like 2Chainz or Flava Flav, if you’re anything like that, don’t just come out. I know you ain’t gon’ be like that tho cos I’m doing all I can to make sure I get a mum for you that looks something close to Megan Good or better (OMG!!!! TELL ME YOU SAW WHAT I DID THERE…then again don’t cos that would mean I’m conversing with an imagined entity and this will make me insane)  however, these Nigerian chics be making things hard but not to worry, I’m on top of the situation.  Not the jersey shore ‘situation’ you perv! Ugh!!!

Oh! Oh! Can you imagine, you must be wondering why I’m addressing you like a dude when there’s the possibility of you coming out without a penis.  Listen aii, it don’t matter if you’re a dude or a dudette, you’re still gon’ be my nigga whichever way.  I haven’t given much thought to what I’ll name you because trends change. You see, I’m sorta like David Beckham and Kanye West so you might be getting a name like “Seven”, “North West” or whatever fad is reigning at the time of your birth. See if you were born now, I’ll probably call you “back”…you know so, when people say “call back” you get all sorts of popular nshit.  You’re welcome.

Dear God, am I really writing this shit?

Now, y’all punks be talking about how y’all are going to be there for your kids and what not. But my nigga, who is your dealer for real? The kid ain’t even born yet and you’re promising to be there all the time? And then you wonder why some kids grow up and lose trust for their folks? Listen young’un, I doubt I’m going to be there for you so much ya know, like I’m gon’ be around at home n shit but there’s this place called work and it’s where responsible people go so they can get money to pay for yo shit. If I don’t go, you cry, and when you cry, yo momma gets a headache and gives me grief and we don’t want daddy having grief cos when daddy gets grieved, things like Rihanna ft Eminem happen.

I’m a nice guy. Many people might call me psycho but haaayyyyy I’m not the one writing a letter to someone who won’t see it? Who’s the psycho now?  Then again, I am actually writing this. But is it a letter if I don’t address it to anyone? Haha, no. so there, this could just be an anonymous rant nshit. I swear I’m really not psycho.

You guys though, I really commend your writing. I’ve read some of the letters and y’all are so eloquent and sweet and stuff, it brings tears to my eyes and warmth to my heart. I read all the flowery things you say to your unborn kids and y’all make a brotha wanna go out there and pull an Angelina Jolie with the whole of Ethiopia but nah, y’all are just meh. You’re still gonna konk sense into that child at some point, did you prepare ‘em for that? You’re still going to tell em to “ride okada” on the side of the wall if he messes up, Y’all are going to threaten ‘em with “if I hear pim…” and then use the dreaded “Let your father come home first…” to break every bold bone in their body. LOOOL

It’s cool though, don’t mind me.

As for you kid; stay where you are ok? You gats wait till I get to the US before you think of coming out. I can’t go through the stress of procuring visa for you.

Your nigga.

A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?

You can send in your own written letters to obafuntay@gmail.com

I’d like to take a moment here, to appreciate everyone who has taken the trouble of opening post links, reading letters, sharing, writing your own letters and keeping this project going. You guys are awesome!

{The option to send in letters closes today. Letters received after today, would not be published. Thank you} 

N.B. The project goes on tomorrow, with @BiolaJinadu‘s letter.

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)

@Delia_Maraj’s Letter

Welcome to the second project on obafuntaydotcom, The Letter to my unborn child project. If you missed the preview, you can view it here, just so you have an idea what we are up to, as much as the project title, speaks for itself.

Ever thought of writing a letter? Better still, a letter to your unborn child?

What would you name him/her? Why not give your unborn child a name now and write him/her a letter? Yes! Right now! Doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me.

What do you think?

Today, we’d be reading Delia’s letter.

Hang in there.

Baby

Hey baby,

First of all, I want to tell you that you are beautiful. You’re the most beautiful girl on earth. I know as I’m writing this letter you’re yet to be born, you are only a long off thought, like a memory I want to have but must live through first, but I know you are beautiful; within and outside. And you are my dream that came true.

My baby girl, I’ve dreamt about you for years. Anytime I see a little girl, I picture you in my head and think of everything I have in store for you. I think of the names I will call you, the things I’d buy for you and the love I will give to you. I pray by the time you are born, I still have these dreams for you.

I want to be there for you while you grow up. At that time I’ll have two jobs, my career and being your mother. My baby, I will gladly put my career on hold to always be there for you as you grow up. I want to be the best I can be for you. And I want to teach you a lot of things I wish I knew as I grew up.

Darling, I want you to always have your self-confidence. You are beautiful and you deserve the best. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. There’s a saying that goes ‘The lizard falls safely from a great height, and says that if man does not praise him, he will praise himself’ As a teenager, this helped me a lot and I want you to hold it in your heart always. I want you to always acknowledge your little successes because the world will not always give you a handshake.

I hope you meet your grandparents; they’ll spoil you silly. They have so much love in their hearts. You will love them. I’m going to have so much fun dressing you up when you’re little and I’m sure that as you grow, you’ll pick an interest in fashion just like me. But, do not get carried away for true beauty isn’t clothes and make up, it’s within, it’s something that the eyes can’t see and the hands can’t touch. Never forget this.

I need you to always focus on what you have and not what you lack. You’re a star, my star; don’t let anybody tell you that you’re not. I made a lot of mistakes growing up and I want to be there for you to make sure you learn from my mistakes. You will make mistakes of your own, you are human, mistakes are bound to happen, and when they do, don’t see yourself as a failure. These things happen to make you stronger. And when you fall, I want to be there to pick you up.

You have a right to dream. And I’ll support you in whatever path you choose as long as it’s morally right.
I hope by the time you arrive I still love your father very much, and that he loves me too. Life can be unpredictable and cruel. I also hope we show you the perfect example of what true love is. I hope I pursued my dreams and settled at doing what I love. I want to be your role model and inspiration, and I don’t know how I can inspire you to be the best you can be, if I didn’t fight to be the best.

The world you have come into is not a kind one and I can’t assure you that everything will be alright, but I want you to know that God never gives us more than we can handle. If you are going to have a heart like mine; full of love for everyone; then there is something you should know. People always leave. It is what they do; they will make promises to you and disappoint you. Do not despair, my love. All these will help build the strong woman you will become. Never let the fear of getting hurt stop you from putting yourself out there; true love is taking the risk that it won’t be a happy ever after. But in all your doings, be wise. Always know when to let go before getting hurt.

I may not be able to give you all you want, but I will work my ass off to provide all that you’ll need. I pray that you strive to be all that you can be; the only person standing in your way is the one in the mirror. I pray that you never have to pay for any of my sins.

You are greatness. I love you very, very much, so much it makes my heart ache. See you soon (not so soon).

With so much love,
Mommy.
12th August, 2013.

A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?

You can send in your own written letters to obafuntay@gmail.com

I’d like to take a moment here, to appreciate everyone who has taken the trouble of opening post links, reading letters, sharing, writing your own letters and keeping this project going. You guys are awesome!

{The option to send in letters, closes on Wednesday the 14th at noon. Letters received after this date, would not be published. Thank you} 

N.B. The project goes on tomorrow, with @Femme_fatale018‘s letter.

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)

@ezi1nne’s Letter

Welcome to the second project on obafuntaydotcom, The Letter to my unborn child project. If you missed the preview, you can view it here, just so you have an idea what we are up to, as much as the project title, speaks for itself.

Ever thought of writing a letter? Better still, a letter to your unborn child?

What would you name him/her? Why not give your unborn child a name now and write him/her a letter? Yes! Right now! Doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me.

What do you think?

Today, we’d be reading Ezinne’s letter.

Hang in there.

Olamide's Letter.

Ezinne’s Letter.

My Little One,

Your arrival has been long anticipated, if by none, by me

For my bosom swells with the words I have harboured for a lifetime

I hoped to tell the story myself, but I’d rather you read

For in writing, I have poured the misery of my pent soul on a blank sheet. A clean slate. My heart’s desire.

I loved. I loved a man. He loved himself

I lost my heart. He lost himself

He was my passion. Misdirected passion is death. I died a thousand times

He was my thousand pasts, my infinite future

But he lost himself. Nowhere, just in himself

He was the cordage holding the pieces of my heart, for the heart never breaks even

He was my heart in the whole, but he lost himself

Then I was certain that I’d never understand, until it was broken. I was broken

And in gathering the fragments of me, I began to understand

That to love a man, is to love yourself

And to give love to a man, you must give love to yourself

For you cannot give what you do not have.

I amassed what was left of me, and so perceived

That man is a judge, this plague, his sense of security

The finding of fault in another, his haven

So I learnt never to compromise, for in surrendering I condemned myself

I revelled in this understanding, (for I’d be judged by my actions) as wisdom, I’d heard, is supreme

As I regained what was left of my broken womanhood, I began to understand

The need to speak and let myself be heard of the world

Not just speak, but bespeak with apprehension and timeliness

For the difference between the wise and the fool is in knowing when to speak

I understood the need to find strength, a succor for my will

To stand for what I believed in, for if you stand for nothing, you fall for everything

And then you lose respect; respect is given to the man who merits it

My helpless enervation helped me know never to trust in man

For even man cannot trust him self

And in trusting no one, never to play the fool, the need for cutesy no matter

For I have come to know and revel in the knowledge that God loves ugly

The distraction of outer beauty I abhor, as a lesson I have learned from experience

In the catacombs of my misery I revered the sweet stench of truth

To hold independence as a scythe, and hardwork as a buffer

To stay disappointments from putrid promises made by man

An ever dynamic fragment of reality, capable of showing hell and heaven in one heartbeat

And between these two realities, a negligible chasm of honesty

Which is paramount in life, for an honest man is God’s noblest handwork

Through the darkness and fear, the whispers of lingering shadows of regret

In myself I found hope, for I yet lived, though none too gloriously

I compared myself to no one for no two people have exactly the same capabilities

God is creative you know

I amassed a wealth of endurance in hardships and patience in tribulation

Revering the prize I was worth, of laughter, of life, of love.

Love

The cordage binding man to woman, woman to child, child to friend

Making foes of friends and friends of foes

I had loved and lost and loved again

With the my broken shards of misery I vowed never to let innocence make me vulnerable

For I know beasts crave the innocent, my unguarded heart, their victual

As the worldly man craves the gullible, her ignorance, his bludgeon

I learned never to betray my happiness in seeking unrequited love

For love solicits not just one’s happiness, but the welfare and contentment of the one loved

I vowed to give the love around for karma was now my companion

I knew my heart was gold and he who will earn the broken pieces

Must bear battle scars, the epitome of mine, in giving and in forgiving

I have come to discover the evil days

The days when I look in the mirror and am a stranger to myself

But my woes are well spent, for I know now, that I am a stranger to my past

For in finding these new virtues I found myself

I found the stubborn kindness in me and honed it with discipline and perseverance

For I know of wolves who take advantage of kindness, selfishness is their burden

But this couldn’t change me, only if the change wrought development

In this did I know that my fragile soul whispered at every phase

For angels that may never come, as they feared the darkness in my heart

Do not despair, this strangeness, for there is no strangeness without beauty.

My Little One, I have reproduced a refined me in you

That you may learn these and more at my feet as you will feed from my bosom

Beauty, wisdom, hardwork and the light of the mind

I picked the pieces of my heart and stood up straight

No longer afraid of the dark, no longer in shame

No longer loathe to exhibit the illuminative excellence of my mind

My mind is my beauty and beauty should be left unscarred

A scar is a memory and memories should last forever

I have loved and lost, I have built and have been broken

But despite all I come unscathed

I will love again, I will love anew

I will love. I will love you.

Your mother,
Ezinne Onyeka.

• • •

A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?

You can send in your own written letters 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)

@Scarville’s Letter

Welcome to the second project on obafuntaydotcom, The Letter to my unborn child project. If you missed the preview, you can view it here, just so you have an idea what we are up to, as much as the project title, speaks for itself.

Ever thought of writing a letter? Better still, a letter to your unborn child?

What would you name him/her? Why not give your unborn child a name now and write him/her a letter? Yes! Right now! Doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me.

What do you think?

Today, we’d be reading Jenim’s letter.

Hang in there.

Jenim's Letter

Jenim’s Letter

My child, my child
Welcome to a world I was welcomed to
What seems not so far long ago
When the air was not eerie
And life was placid and not so scary
Of course I lie, what is now is what has been
All you see, the sun hath seen
The air is tense and always dense
And life is acid, it makes no sense
But I know of one I met while I yet lived
And came to know and came to grow
To love forevermore
One from whom emerged branches
Branches loved differently by different souls
And has his roots deep in the human spirit
One inspired by the muses or of God himself
One that had the power to make a grown man weep
(I’m a woman, I wept a fountain)
And a new-born dance
One filled with words which are as shallow as a stream
Or as deep as the Pacific on a rainy night
One whose end calls for an encore
I met him as a child and it indeed was love at sight
For the rest of my days I sought for depth
In him was character no one could touch
Loved by all yet none could touch
He speaks aloud with lots of words
Silently moulding the lives of them which heard
I can only try and fail to explain to you
The joy that fills my heart when I listen to a song I love
Or when I fall in love with a song for the first time
The urge I feel to see the song again and again and only again
His words or his rhythm
Music is my only love
If one could plant a grin upon my face
Or put a grey upon my days
Or weave pain through my heart
It was music, it was music on any day
I watched in adoration as a hundred thousand people
Sang while the musician stopped singing and watched them sing his song
He laughs in joy for the song he wrote had changed lives
I smiled at the hope that music transferred to those in pain
I wondered at the most powerful creation
That had such an impact on the soul of man
How a frog needed not the eloquent voice of music
To have a song in his heart
The power it has over the feet of men
Oh, to sway and lift mortals off the ground
To neutralize the acidity of life
One that could make you high on a bridge
And depresses you at the refrain
Which modulates your emotions as the waves of the ocean
Mouths that can’t talk explain with music
Hearts that can’t beat say so in songs
In all you do, never disparage the branch a man loves
Love yours and always carry a song in your heart
Go for his lyrics, they’ll increase your depth
The rhythm is important, more so for the shallow
Guard your heart, music has his yin
Yes his darkness, which darkens the hearts of men
What more can I say of that I love
More than the air I breathe
The string instruments will melt a heart of stone
If you meet a boy that plays the violin, marry him
Oh, I kid, take me not seriously on that last line
But do marry him by all means necessary
The acoustic guitar, the piano I love too
The drums that beat the beating heart
The harp, the flute, the sax, the mute
Doth play, music hath no inhibition
I’ve loved a few, a few have loved back
But when the wind it blew, it blew both loves away
And memories are all that’s left
Music was with me before I loved
And picked my heart from the floor
And with the hand of time healed it more
The secret chord that David played
That pleased God and king him made
On the wings of music I talk to God
As Moses did, face to face, heart to heart
The children’s flaw hath made them bound
Their captors required of them a song
God’s own children could not sing his song in a strange land
What indeed is in a song
That frees the slave with amazing grace
On days of angst, music reminds me I’m not alone
What’s a song but a heart that’s dancing through the mouth
And when the mouth be dumb
The heart it dances through the feet
And when the feet be numb
The heart it dances through the ears
And when the hearing’s gone
And it seems that sound can no more be born
And music can no more be heard
And he who hears not wishes he were dead
God creates a man to show the world
What music seems and what music means
He named him Ludwig Van Beethoven
He who once heard but one day heard no more
And when this acid of life was poured upon his face
He wished to see his days end before his day
But when hope hath walked to him
And shook his hand and sat with him
He composed his Ninth Symphony
With his heart’s melody
And when the performance was done
He with his back to the crowd
Heard not the thundering applause of the audience
That gave him reverence
Till he was turned, and began to weep
And he which heard not changed the century in which he lived
Music is faith, that tells you light up, even if you cannot hear my voice I’ll be right beside you dear
Music is hope, that tells you if everything we got is fading away, we’ve a rock in a Rock till our dying day
Music is a voice, when he declares: questions of science, science and progress do not speak as loud as my heart
Music is a friend, especially to the lonely, he says I’m holding onto you holding on to me, maybe its all we’ve got but its all I need
Music is spiritual, that transcendental breeze between mortality and deity
Music is healing, he whispers, tears stream down your face when you lose something you cannot replace but I will try to fix you
Music is sublime, as water is to the body so is music to the soul
Music is peace, it lays the soul at war upon lake placid to take a nap
Above all, my child, music is life alive
Before you took your first breath it was
After you take your last it’ll be
But do not dare take that deep, sorrowful last breath my child
Without letting the world hear your song by the life you’ve lived.

• • •

A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?

N.B. The project goes on tomorrow, with Aw3L3’s letter.

You can send in your own written letters 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)

Her Story, XXXVIII by @ladyingenous

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 @ladyingenous

This is her story.

Please Read.

The ‘Beneath the Smile’ Project.

behind the smile

Ever felt like you’re alone in your own world? Ever felt like no one would understand no matter how much they tried?
Ever felt like something is wrong?
Ever felt you haven’t done enough?
Ever felt like giving up cause you think you can’t do it, you have given your best already?
Ever get this empty feeling like you don’t matter?
Ever felt like no matter how much you try it doesn’t get better?
Ever felt like losing hope because no matter which way you go it’s not working?
Ever felt like you’re not living you just exist. Ever felt like your dreams are more than you?
Ever felt like time is running out and nothing is happening?
Ever felt like you’re only talking it and never living it?

Well I felt all of these and much more. I felt I didn’t know which way to go cause no matter which way I went I just got stuck. I try my hands on so many things yet none gave me joy. I was confused cause my life no longer made sense to me. It felt like I was losing it and there was no one to turn to. It felt like there was absolutely no one to share this with. It felt like my troubles were eating me up. It felt like I had so many people around yet no one. It felt like everyone was running and I was standing wondering which way to go. It felt like this and it felt like that. I couldn’t even find the words to describe those feelings. They just came and when they did I just felt numb. I felt empty. I felt down. I felt indifferent. I felt lifeless.

All of those emotions and more were things I felt at a stage in my life that I couldn’t explain. I am sure you might be wondering why all of these emotions for a young girl like me. Well this is the story behind all of those emotions.

I am the second child and the first girl in my family. I lost my mum when I was ten. It was the worst thing that could have happened to me because I was not even with her when she died. I didn’t get to spend her last days with her. Prior to her death I had spent the whole of my jss1 first term holiday with her. It was horrendous having to see her in the condition she was. My mum went through a lot of pain and I had to watch all this without being able to do anything. She was diagnosed with a lot of diseases, some of which I didn’t even understand. She died while I was in school. Immediately after her death, my dad fell ill. It was like he couldn’t be strong for us so we had to be strong for him.

I lost my dad exactly 55 days after I lost my mum. When this happened, I felt so much pain that I couldn’t even cry. The pain was beyond tears so I just bottled up all of the tears. I did not cry and the tears were transformed to bitterness in me. I was bitter for as long as I could remember. I did not understand life anymore. I had lost my best friend in the whole of the world (my mum) and then I lost my dad too. It was just too much to bear.

I never talked much about it. I kept all of the bitterness in me. I was always sad though I always smiled (how ironic). The devil used it as a tool many times to keep me depressed. I would just be playing with my friends, then we would start talking about our parents and then I would just be saying “my uncle this and my uncle that” never “mum or dad”. It was very sad. It was really eating into me. I kept asking God why he had to take them. I used to feel unloved and I was always looking for love. It was always a battle to believe someone would ever love me for me. I just felt like there was no love for me anywhere. I used to feel rejected.

But then something changed. I no longer feel all of those things. I am now a hundred percent sure that someone cares. Someone greater than my imaginations. Someone my mind can’t understand or comprehend. Someone my mind drifts to when I feel all of these. He said to me I will stand by you when no one’s there. I will love you till the end of time. It might not seem like it but I am working out something great in you and through you.

You are perfect, He says. You are the most precious amongst my treasures. The very hairs on your head I know. You are engraved on my palm. I know your very make up. Those days when I’m down, I lay on my bed cover myself up and have a good cry but at the end I smile ’cause I know this person cares. I smile knowing there is hope. I smile knowing I have a friend who is greater than even a brother. I smile knowing I’m not alone.

He didn’t promise that I won’t fall but he said he will be there to catch me when I fall. He dint promise that it will be easy but He said, He will be by my side through the tough times.
He didn’t promise me a smooth road, but He said He’ll carry me through the rough ones. He didn’t promise me the whole world, but He gave me Him who owns the whole world.

Sometimes I cry at the thought of the love He has for me because I don’t understand it. Sometimes I’m afraid I can never love Him like He loves me.
Sometimes I’m afraid I will always let him down.
Sometimes I’m afraid I’m not up to the standard.

But at the end I remember,
He is not looking for a perfect person,
He is not looking for the person who has no wrong,
He is not looking for the person who has a hold of everything. All he asks is for a heart to believe Him and then trust Him. A heart to love Him not by itself but by His own love.

That’s all he asks.

That He, is God(father, son and spirit) and He is the smile beneath my smile.

• • •

Don’t just read, say a prayer.

A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?

N.B. The project goes on with Tomorrow’s ’Her Story, XXXVIII’ 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)

Getting Lost

Hello friends,

I worked this post a night before embarking on a new journey, NYSC. So as you read, I’m probably under the hot Abuja sun or something in Kubwa.

I’m having mixed feelings on this whole NYSC thing. I feel like I just got dropped in the center of a maze and I’m to find my way, I feel a little lost and I haven’t started yet. New place. New people. New faces. That’s the whole point I guess. Plus, I think I really need this you know; being away from people I have always known, making friends, losing friends, surviving in unknown territories. I don’t just want to survive. There’s more to the plan than that. I guess it’s time I finally found out the meaning to “Getting lost to get found”.

Anyway, do me a HUGE favor and say a prayer for me this very second, no matter how short…Thank you. I hope you said something. I really, we (fellow corpers) all need it.

So I came across this Video, a compilation of very relevant, food for thought cuts from a number of movies. It’s amazing and it was just what I needed.

So this is me sharing it with you…. This is me being nice. 😀

Be Nice and Share to others as well.

Enjoy

“The world aint all sunshine and rainbows it’s a very mean and nasty place and I do not care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there if you let it.”

“it’s not about how hard you can hit but how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward, how much you can take and keep moving forward”

 

P.S. Please, if you have any video you think should be shared to others and we can feature on our #VideoWednesday, please mail me at obafuntay@gmail.com

Thank you

The Tale of the Silent Screamer

It’s 8:31pm, I’m taking a walk, I’m in that mood again, each time I get in it, I fall in deeper, the headphone is on, but it doesn’t work… I’ll just leave it there all the same. Its best when people think I can’t hear them, I don’t even feel sad about this ’cause everyday, I scream and no one hears.
Life just goes on… silly me!
What did I expect, that the world halts and try to fix me? or someone taps me and indisputably wants to know what’s going on, asking “why are you screaming so loud” even with my lips sealed. I keep walking, there are pedestrians everywhere, look at them, they never hear, they never listen, but I scream still.

Frustration, tension, apathy…

These three now stick with me like accessories I can’t do without, the more I try to get them off, they become yet even tighter. I have lost my voice, I scream no more not cause I don’t want to but because I just can’t anymore.

I hear a deafening scream, it seems to come from behind me, I look around, I see nothing grotesquely odd,

the mallam selling suya down the road, the road-side traders, the thugs fighting over change, cars honking… same ol’ Lagos theatrics.

But with these entire simultaneous occurrences I hear this screamer distinctively, I can’t help but wonder why, I take off my headphones, tap him and ask why? He went on about how everybody had been praying for his only brother, how pastors, family, prayer warriors, had been praying yet, he is six feet beneath as we walk.
He is blaming himself, his eyes tear as he asks rhetorically “If I prayed seriously and fasted would that have made a difference?”
I just stare blankly, I can see the agony through his eyes, and he really believes if he prayed a little more, there’d have been a difference. I mumble something about not blaming himself; crack my head on anything inspiring I can share as I pat him on the back, increase my pace and continue walking.
Now ahead of him, my mind can’t help but wonder and think… God why?
But people prayed, warriors, faith believing pastors, agreements were made, demons bound and casted but today, this boy is here sad, in tears and without a brother nor a father who he lost years back.

*sigh*

Here is another screamer calling for answers, in dire need for comfort, in need of love, In need of hope, searching for answers.

This walk, I shall never forget, the lesson learned I always remember: Life is too short to have such accessories (frustration, tension and apathy) weighing one down. There are people out there, screaming everyday even with their lips sealed, going through real things; life is just one big bully slapping faces unexpectedly.

***********************************************************************************************************************

This goes out to all screamers, we hear you, we care, and you are not alone.
Tap a screamer today, we are everywhere, your course-mate, brother, sister, bunk-mate, room-mate, the ever smiling friend… cause you never know what really is behind that smile.

Can any one relate to this ?

R.I.P Patrick Akano and Happy Birthday!!
If you can read this, your brother @Lex_469 says “Rest in peace, I know there is a party in heaven for you”

If you enjoyed reading, please follow/subscribe to this blog and make use of the comment box.
Share your thought as the souls of our loved ones who have passed, Rest in Peace.

R.I.P Grandpa. ♥

But then, this is what I think, what do I know?

#iWish

Stop, and think…

loads of things you wish never happened…

I remember catching myself making a wish one time when I saw what I thought to be a shooting star.

Do wishes really come to be reality??? …

here is a list of wishes i think you could relate to:

 

Have you ever rushed into something and wanted out?

Ever said something you wish you could take back?

A mistake/memory you just wish you could wipe off?

A choice made that you wish you could “unchoose”

A “friend” you wish you never knew?

A habit you wish you never started?

A good thing you could have done but just dint do?

But if we keep wishing, what then does that change?

fairy tales only happen in fairyland, in reality we can’t make a wish whenever we see a shooting star. We have no other choice but to learn, observe and avoid that ditch lest we fall again, drive with caution and look ahead.

No need for a rear mirror because on this journey, there’s no looking back, no regrets just one highway to heaven.