WE MISS YOU MOM!

It makes it five years today when we watched your life ebb out of you right in our eyes. Really, death has sting but glory to Jesus who conquered death for us and that has always been our confidence that your death was a transition to glory. We really miss you mom and God has been faithful.

I remember one morning when I came home on my monthly visit from school. You followed me to the park that day. We had to cross the road to the other side on alighting from the taxi and I had a heavy bag. As a 'biz' girl, I was still thinking of how to carry my bag across when you swooped up the bag and it landed on your head. You did that for me, mum.

I remember also the day you came to see me in school during PDS (pre-degree days) with my school fees and you came not without some goodies--fried fish and stuffs. You were in that beautiful robe of yours and I was so glad to see you....

The night of your transition when AnBlai (Anti Bolaji) and I were planning your burial in the sitting room, we would look at each other amidst tears and say, 'So this is how it feels like to lose one's mum', and then another round of weeping. It was so sorrowful. We couldn't believe it that day when it happened, when everyone left home with your body and AnBusola took us (Shade and I) upstairs. We were crying and praying and I uttered some nonsense to God before I could caution myself.

The next morning when church folks came to visit and sang "Gbori re soke alaare tori ayo n bo lowuro (Oh, weary pilgrim, lift your head: For joy cometh in the morning)", I drew my veil to cover my face and backed everyone. I couldn't sing, I was crying.... But I remembered the song I wrote and sang unto the Lord when my sister sent to me in a text message the result of the test (while I was still battling with fine-tuning my project and submitting in school) that the Lord would still be my God even if the worst thing happened, even if He didn't deliver from the lion's den. And really the Lord is still my God, not only mine but our God.

And we can say indeed that joy comes in the morning. To say we miss you is an understatement. We are glad to God for ever comforting us on this matter, for filling the vacuum. It has not been easy, because you died so young--at 54--but God has been there. And we are not throwing a pity party either, but how can we ever forget you? It is not easy imagining you will be absent from all our weddings and your grandchildren will only see your photos. Blessed is your memory in our hearts.

WE BLESS THE LORD OUR GOD, OUR EVER PRESENT COMFORTER.

* 'biz' is a Nigerian funny version for 'big'

TALES BY THE DAYTIME

Hi hi,

TALES BY THE DAYTIME

I have bow legs which I love. But it took me many years to accept them o, hmm. I didn't know my legs were slightly bowed until one afternoon in my final year in secondary school when we had to wait outside our apartment (upon returning home from school) for some hours because we couldn't find the key to enter inside. We used to have a long bench at the front of our house then, so Shade, my sister, and I sat on it. I stretched out my legs and then discovered my knees were not touching themselves. I was afraid. 'What is wrong with my legs?' I asked rhetorically.

So I asked my sister to stretch out her leg and let me see if her knees met, they did. So why were mine not meeting? My sister replied if I didn't know I had bow legs. Bow legs? I never knew. And this knowledge bothered me for years. I would check my legs over and over again and rant over why they were not straight like some peoples' legs. Anytime we took any photos, my main point of scrutiny was my legs. But later I accepted them and appreciated them and still do.

Now my teeth. I have big upper teeth and they are slightly pointed too. Now their being pointed and big was my fault. I started folding in my lower lip over my lower teeth while holding the lip in place with my upper teeth in Primary 4. I thought it was a style, I don't know where I got that idea from o--children with their different funny ideas. I just discovered that my teeth were getting bigger and bigger and I couldn't understand why. It wasn't until Primary 6 when my friend, Lara, told me what was making my upper set of teeth increase in size and pointed was the habit I described above.

When she told me, I blushed a little, but I appreciated her and stopped that naughty 'style'. Believe me, that brought the end to the extravagant growth of my upper teeth. Looking back, I knew God used her to caution me in time before my teeth entered the Guiness Book of Record.

But these big teeth also shook me a little so that anytime I was laughing in public and I remembered that my teeth were big and pointed, I would curtail the laughter. Many times when I smiled in those days, they were toothless smiles because I was very conscious of my 'big' teeth until one afternoon during choir rehearseals on campus.

A sister told me, 'You, you'll be smiling with your teeth closed, open your teeth and smile well'. I heeded to her advice and I started to dare toothy smiles :) . And then I would check my teeth in the mirror and tell myself, 'But, oh my upper teeth are a bit big and pointed, they are not bad. They are still beautiful.' I would check my smiles in the mirror too and would nod at how beautiful they were. So I stopped restraining my smiles and literally became a smiler.

One day in choir when we were sending forth some brethren, a brother commented on my smiles. He said they were beautiful and there is this joy they bring to whoever saw them and so I should keep smiling because my smiles were blessing people. In my heart, I was like wow, God bless this sister that encouraged me to accept myself o.

Why did I have to tell these tales? It's because I know there are many people especially ladies (I'm a woman so I know what I'm talking about) who are struggling with accepting one part of their bodies or the other which is not 'perfect' enough. I hope my stories encourage you to accept yourself and to know that you are beautiful in spite of those seeming flaws.

Hugs with lots of love from me,
Precious AY

DINNER DEBATE

Sometimes last week over dinner, I found myself in the middle of a debate with some colleagues: 'Who cheat more in marriages--men or women?' Ladies in the group maintained it's men while guys disagreed. Well, I made a point clear to them. I said, 'Guys cheat more or less, ladies cheat less or more, my own case is different'. They asked me what makes it different and I told them.

'My man cannot cheat on me because he loves and fears God. Cheating on me will make him hurt God and he won't do that, he doesn't want to see the one he loves and adores unhappy.'

One guy shook his head and corrected, 'He will not cheat on you because he loves you.' That was a tough challenge, but Wisdom bailed me out.

I said, 'Not because he 'loves' me, because if he 'loves' me he can still cheat on me. Is it not you men that usually give the excuse that you could have extra marital affairs and still 'love' your wife, that your heart is not in your flings as it is with women? So if it is based on 'love', he can cheat. But because God lives in him and he fears and loves Him, he will not cheat on me'. Well, that ended the argument. These were people from different backgrounds and cultures. We were only two Christians in the group.

What gave me the confidence to say that even though I am not married yet? The fact that I know that some things cannot happen to me because I belong to God. Infidelity either on my side or on my husband's side can never be a question in my home (not by power or by might but by His Spirit). Don't tell me I can't be too sure. I am cocksure about this because of Jeremiah 29:11. And Proverbs 3:25 too. Why should I anticipate evil happening to me in marriage when I have Psalms 91:7 and 121:3,7 and other beautiful promises always in the Bible? I am confident that the Lord helps me in everything including how to be the best wife to my husband and He does the same to my husband too. He will never let our feet slip. God is going to show off to the world through my marriage what His love is. This my soul knows very well and is persuaded about.

DAYS OF HAWKING

One day, my friend, Inikpi (a.k.a. my mama) and I were going to church in Port Harcourt when we saw a boy hawking. She told me how she said to a child who was hawking one day that, 'You will be great' and the child was very happy. Then I exclaimed, 'I did hawk before too, I just remember now!' She was like, 'Really?! Who would ever think of that? And see where you are today.'

My parents were teachers. We all know teachers in Nigeria were not well paid at all before the advent of the minimum wage (nicknamed 'Gbemu Aremu' by westerners) in 1999. During a period of time before Gbemu Aremu, things were so tough at home. My mum who was entrepreneurial had a shop where she sold different things--detergent, sugar, salt, vegetable oil, elubo isu (yam flour), ikoko irin (cast aluminium pots from Saki), laundry soaps and provisions generally. At this time, it was difficult for us to eat at home if we didn't hawk because the area where our shop was located was not good for business. This era lasted between 1995 and 1999.

It was usually my older sister and I going on the hawking trips together, though occasionally my younger sister and/or my cousin who was living with us then would join us. I never liked it. But I never complained because I knew mum didn't like it too. I found myself always praying and hoping none of my classmates would see me. (I attended a posh and reputable public secondary school). There was a day I saw a boy that looked like a classmate. Oh, you needed to see how I ran into hiding. I told my sister that was a boy from my school. Fortunately there was a closed shop around. We hid behind a table in front of it and we didn't leave until we were sure the coast was clear. There was a friend who used to see me though, he was in my class, but he never told anybody in school and never made me feel bad about it. We had to pass by his house almost every trip.

We used to hawk every Saturday and during holidays. At times we would have great sales and at times low. Those times when we had low sales, we would return to our shop unhappy and mum would try to encourage us. We would peddle provisions in whole sales to retailers, surf (detergent), sugar and salt in the morning. In the evening, my sister would go around with kerosene (we were selling kerosene too). The evening I vended kerosene, I returned with less money than what I sold. I couldn't explained how it happened, so my mum did not allow me to hawk kerosene after that day. During school long vacations, we used to market stationaries because that's a season for parents to get them for their wards in preparation for the next session.

Thank God for keeping us through those days from every kind of predators. You can imagine two girls walking alone  and at times on lonely paths. We had our routes and we tried to avoid the main road as much as we could. I recall my mum always warning us not to enter anybody's room/house to sell. We kept to this but there were times we had to slightly breach her warning. We had a customer who usually bought a lot of things from us. One day we entered her house passage, we didn't see her. Then our eyes wandered into an open room, lo, we saw a big idol (a statue). We  took to our heels and never sold to the woman again.

In 1999, mum told us the long vacation of that year was going to be the last time we would hawk. We were so glad. No more fear of seeing my schoolmates.

THE WATER RAN AWAY

When I was a corper, I was involved in NCCF (Nigeria Christian Corpers Fellowship).

(In Nigeria, it is compulsory for every graduate less than thirty years of age to serve the nation for a year under NYSC-National Youth Service Corps. The word 'corper' is an informal modification of 'Corps' to describe a serving corps member. Young graduates from different regions are cross-posted to other regions and they work in any corporation or company they are posted to. NCCF is a body of Christian youth corps members and the mission of this fellowship is to reach the nook and cranny of the nation with the gospel of Christ through Rural Rugged Evangelism. This is in fact the fulfilment of a prophecy that the Nigerian Government will one day pay youths to preach the Gospel. Rural Rugged Evangelism which is shortened to 'Rugged' is gospel outreaches to rural areas. We have this slogan that 'if it is not rural, it is not rugged'.)

I served in Rivers State. In my own NCCF chapter we were always going for one Rugged or the other almost every weekend. This is because there are a lot of NCCF zones in the state. Thus, apart from the three Ruggeds organized by the state chapter of the fellowship for the three different batches of corpers-A, B and C  (tagged Baptismal Rugged meant to 'immerse' new NCCF members a.k.a Jesus Corpers into the Rugged culture), every zone also organizes its own Rugged. These outreaches are indeed rugged because most of the time you do 'rub and shine' throughout the program and then do a proper cleanup when you return home on Sunday. It was a beautiful time serving the Lord.

There was a particular Rugged I won't ever forget. It was my last. If I remember very well it fell on the weekend that followed our passing out as corpers. This outreach was organized by Ogu-Bolo zone of the fellowship. I cannot remember the name of the village we went to, but it was an island bordered by the sea. We crossed to the village by boat, about five minutes boat ride.

On reaching the village, we started organizing ourselves into different groups as usual. We divided ourselves into different praying groups while others were organizing the place, setting up our equipment and other things. But something shocking happened. Water from the surrounding sea was closing in on us. Remember I mentioned that the village was an island. It was a very small village, and from the school where we camped, you could see the sea. The ground that was all dry sand when we got there started oozing water mysteriously. So, some brothers started packing dry sand to stop the water. For where?! Even the spots they were packing the dry sand from got caught up with the 'flood' in no time.

We couldn't understand. We were perplexed. We were praying, but like people who had not eaten for ten days. The prayer had no fire at all, we were strangely weak. Then, suddenly, someone from my prayer group, Dipo, got angry in his spirit and stopped the prayer session. He spurred us to take our stand and fight this battle that was defying our God. So, we were fired up in our spirits and we started this hot prayer. The same thing happened in other prayer groups. And before we knew it, right before our eyes, the water ran away, it went back the way it came. The sand became dry again. Our great God who owns the sea and the dry ground! Who is mammy water before the God of all gods?

All the while that we had been trying to sand-fill the flooded ground, the villagers had stood by watching us. None of them came to sit on the chairs we had arranged for them. Maybe they wanted to see if our God would deliver us. But you see, once the water receded, they started to come from different corners of the village and took their seat. The programme for that Friday night started later than scheduled, but we had it anyway and there were souls who were won for the Lord.

I won't ever forget this Rugged, never.