His Story, XIX

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 who has asked to stay Anonymous.

This is his story.

Please Read.

The ‘Beneath the Smile’ Project.

behind the smile

Beneath my smile?

I have so many stories to tell, but I’ll just tell you what I can. I was born with a ‘diamond spoon’ (you know what I mean) My naming ceremony covered 2 streets of Yaba where I lived, my dad was the first owner of a car in that district also. My sister and I had our personal cars and bodyguards for school, as a primary school kid i took 200 Naira  to school everyday (You know what that could buy at that time?) All I’m saying here is that my family was wealthy that it had a negative effect on us. This wealth lasted from my birth till let’s say year 2004…between that time my dad was a drunk, was never there for the family, under the influence of alcohol he beat my mum time after time. I started to hate him, but then he’ll bribe me with money.

When I reached the ‘age of accountability’ I started to pray to God to take away this wealth from my family…but instead my dad’s salary went up to 1.5mil per month as at year 2000. Finally God answered my prayers when I was in secondary school, we were broke and I even had to leave boarding school to be a day student for 1 year to save some money for my already born younger ones. This whole decline in wealth brought my family together and since then we’ve been the best family alive. My dad is even my best pal and he and my mum still show themselves love..Things became all good and we were reaching that status again.

I entered CU in 2008 and my dad still had his job then but his 1.5mil salary was cut down by 1.35million….I felt guilty for this but our pastor said it was “jazz” in his office and from the village (they’ve taken a lot of blame for many people’s demise lol) I still carried that burden in my heart, but thank God for my mom’s business, in 2009 my dad resigned but i was still comfortable in school till the enemies struck BIG TIME…the family I trusted most (my maternal aunt’s) was out to deal with my mom because of a dispute among all the siblings (aunts and uncles). She accused my mum of something very heavy and in one week my mum fell sick and ‘died’…she was confirmed dead by the doctors. I cried my heart, eyes, lungs, everything I cried them out but we kept on praying and with the help of the anointing oil she was back after 2 days… the hate for my aunt turned me into a beast! I was ready to kill her, but my mum calmed me down.

Then in my 300level, something else came up, my dad and I were robbed @ gunpoint, of me and my siblings school fees..close to a million cash! That year was not our year financially and that killed me inside. My mum cried and dad’s silence was more pain than tears and then my aunt came up again and blamed the misfortune on my mum. I woke up the next morning and my dad was totally down with my mum unconscious in his hands…I didn’t even cry I just took a knife and the car keys and I was heading straight to my aunt’s house but my dad managed to get me back and we all prayed and the anointing oil again came to our rescue and she’s alive and well 😀

This is a ‘beneath the smile’ project but In school, people always bashed me for having a straight face all the time (a straight face was as good as a smile for me in my condition), some said I was proud because I didn’t talk to people (what possibly can I be proud of), only a few knew I was shy. I had/have serious hatred in me and had a few friends. It is/was really hard to love but I mean it, when i say it…take note 😉

I still have hatred for that family buried in me somewhere. I don’t show it though and..guilt (that i reduced my family status). I just need prayers to curb that hatred and also for peace between the 2 families.

In all this, I want u guys to learn a few things
*money doesn’t necessarily bring joy
*be careful what you ask God for
*pray for your parents always…they actually go through a lot.

Thanks for reading and God bless 🙂

• • •

Don’t just read, say a prayer.

A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?

N.B. The project goes on with Tomorrow’s ’Her Story, 28’ 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)

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Her Story, XXVI by @sisi_OPE

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 @sisi_OPE

This is her story.

Please Read.

The ‘Beneath the Smile’ Project.

behind the smile

So, having read all the Beneath the Smile series, I decided to write my story too! My name is Ope, 23 years old this year, I’m the 9th child of my Dad, the 3rd of my Mum and the 1st of the union of my Mum and Dad (quite complex I know).

My story is somewhat similar to Moji’s {Her Story, VIII by @SkuSskus}. I got to know about to know my genotype at the age of 7 thereabout, my Mum being a single parent took it upon herself not to believe her child was Sickle Cell Anaemic, so we decided to ignore it since I never had any crisis growing up until I was in SS1 (after my mum died).

I had to move to my Dad’s, being a polygamist and a politician, he was barely around and when he was, he didn’t have time for any child though he made all of us extremely comfortable. All this while, my crisis was still mild up until 100 level. I came to face the reality of being a sickle-cell patient. My crisis was rampant and extremely painful! I was scared of going home on breaks ’cause I knew I’d end up in the hospital.

During one Christmas holiday, I got 32 drips and 22 injections and of course 4 pints of blood. I was always in pain that I became numb to injections, transfusions became a routine. I thought I was going to die. I stopped taking my medications just because I wanted to feel like a normal child without having to depend on medication all my life!
The trips to the health center and hospital were very frequent and I was even referred to as the ‘landlady of the private ward’ by one of the matrons (very mean of her..lool). My hospital bills were in six digits. I would wake my friends who would go all the way to my sister’s wing to wake her since she was my angel on earth that has gotten used to my crisis and knows exactly what to do. During all of my crisis, I cried to God to heal me. I was scared of my future, my child-bearing, my relationships.

At this point, I denied being SS to most people, silently wondering to myself ‘why you would even ask someone that…isn’t it obvious?’. I found it hard to keep up eye contacts just because I felt bad about the ‘yellowish’ discoloration of my eyes. I thought no one knew how I felt and the thoughts going on in my mind had a lot to do with my future. My relationships suffered cause I thought they would all leave me at the end of the day, or worse I would ‘leave’.

But! I got my healing this year (January 19th to be precise) during one of the services! I told God I was not leaving Covenant University with Sickle Cell Anaemia. I haven’t done my tests yet to be assured, but I key into Romans 4:20 and I believe my faith has made me whole.

Therefore, Goodbye Sickle Cell Anaemia!

This is my story that has hidden Beneath My Smile. 🙂

• • •

Don’t just read, say a prayer.

A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?

N.B. The project goes on with Today’s ’His Story, XIX’ by An Anonymous writer (4pm)

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)

All I want for Christmas is…

When i was little, every Christmas, I’d wake up to find a gift wrapped under my pillow there was I believing in santa…
then, I called him Father Christmas. Back in the day, I’d go to bed on Christmas eve with a smile on my face hoping and wishing that my christmas wish becomes my christmas gift, most times, it was either what I had wished for or a satisfactory alternative.
Alas, I grew up and it came to me in an epiphany that there was no santa 😦 .

My Dad and mum had been santa all those nights,
there was really no old man with all the white beard that wore a red apparel
and jumped downed chimneys and gave children gifts while they lay asleep.

…  I had grown up.

when I was a child, I spake as a child,
I understood as a child, I thought as a child,
but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

Now a man, on christmas mornings, nostalgia sets in.
I’d wake up and find myself fighting the urge to check under that pillow
at times, I did and of course there was nothing there.
Now, it’s another Christmas and just like every other,
I have a wish but there’s no need to go looking under the pillow this time
because what i want cannot be found there… No, it’s not Red-Velvet(though I really want that too!!),
it’s not an Harmonica, not even an iPhone 4
and No! It’s not her… I gave up on that a while ago.
All I want this time, is a miracle… my own miracle.

I want to experience a miracle, I want to have my own testimony,
be able to share my own story, climb up a pulpit and say
“Once upon a time, a much-loved family member was ill, we prayed, and she’s fine now”
or to say “This nose of mine was once such a terror, but look at me now, I’m all good”
I see people climb up the pulpit every sunday to share a testimony… I’m always happy about this,
but along with the happiness, came envy.
I just want the same. I always ask the same question, is this too much to ask?

So here is a note to the reason for the season… the celebrant Himself, not the guy in the red apparel.

Dear Jesus,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!
I wonder how old you are now, I really can’t tell ’cause since I was born,
the Pastor keeps saying 2000 years ago.
I hope you are having loads of fun with my grandpa, all the saints and the angels up there.
#JustSoYouKnow, I look forward to your birthday the most every year,
I must confess though, my reason is a bit selfish.
’cause it’s only on your birthday I get gifts 😀
it’s another year again, added to your eternity,
it’s Christmas again, but this time,
what I want is a bit different…
All I want for Christmas is a Miracle.

Your son.

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

As we grow up, things we seek tend to change and the truth is that what we really want can’t be given to us by Santa Claus, just look at the image in the post. So, address  your request(s) to the celebrant Himself.  He can do all things!!!

Thank you for reading  this post, please go the extra mile and use the comment box to share to myself and others what you want for Christmas starting “Dear Jesus”.

There’s always that “one thing” we all want! … question is, what is it? 

HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS!

But then, this is what iThink… what do iKnow ?