Of all the days for inspiration to find me, it had to be the day where malaria is busy dragging me all over the floor. Everything hurts. Even muscles I didn’t know I had are alive and throbbing. My taste buds are gone with the wind and my throat is so sore I cannot even manage a sip of water without wincing and in the midst of this all; I paused my binge watching of being MaryJane and I knew I  had to write.

The last time you heard from me, I was sending my brother off to the University. He was home last week, looking taller and thinner and so grown up or maybe it’s just me? These past weeks have been a roller coaster. I don’t even have words to begin to describe it. So much has happened and through it all, I just couldn’t write. I tried and tried but nothing. And then last night, my dear friend Mfon had me playing this game with her and she made me write about random words and I found myself writing about red shoes, sunrises, kissing and being a woman and I must admit it was really therapeutic.

Sometimes life can be a tad overwhelming, and all I want to do is to be a big baby and cry but the thing about crying is that eventually the tears will fade and you are still where you were. We have to hang in there right? Everything will be just fine.

So this was just a random post to let you all know that I am alive and well and though malaria is currently dealing with me, it will pass soon. Hopefully this is the end of my dry spell and I cannot wait to share all the things that have been going on in this head of mine!

“Writing is a sickness only cured by writing.”

― Niall Williams

It was always me and my sister for the first seven and half years of our lives. We would squeeze our eyes shut at meal times and bedtimes and ask God for another sibling, Everyday without fail until He answered and gave us our brother Chukky. Chukky was and still is so quiet; as a toddler it was hard to know there was a baby in the house because as long as he had his bottle, he was fine. For four years, he was our muse, our big toy and our only brother until Didi came roaring into our lives.

Didi was a sweet suprise. We were glad our mum was pregnant again and we looked forward to when the baby would come, but nothing about Didi was on schedule. I remember my mum taking long walks, dancing and doing everything she could to induce labor; all to no avail. I remember all the false labor and the disappointment each time until that fateful night in December. Oh! The drama that surrounded your arrival! From rushing to the hospital in the dead of night, to having surgery soon as you were born, God showed Himself strong at your birth and I guess that’s why dad named you “Chukwudike”: God is powerful…

The cutest kid with the biggest afro and tiny little perfect teeth, how have you become a man with the deepest of voices, as tall as I am and with a face full of beards? I cannot believe I just saw you off to the University, wow!!!

I cannot believe how time goes by. My tiny sister whom I wouldn’t even let into the kitchen for fear that she would break is now a mum, Chukky who was bow legged and following me all around is now over 6ft tall and set to graduate from the University this summer, and now Didi is off to University as well. 

Dear Didi,

I know that as you read this you’re probably rolling your eyes and wondering why I’m so emotional, but as you venture into the world all by yourself, don’t forget how much I love you and that I am only a phone call away! 

Love,

Maama

Sometime ago, I made a batch of cupcakes. I followed the recipe to the letter, and so I had lofty expectations and I expected them to turn out perfect. To my dismay, they turned out wrong. Some of them looked lopsided, others were still a bit runny. The truth of the matter is that out of a batch of eight, only one came out decent. I was a little salty that the other seven chose to go awry, but I was super proud of the one that turned out right. 

Thinking about it now, I should have been proud of all them. They had the same amount of ingredients, they were in the same pan and they baked for the same amount of time. But Sometimes, being different is not a terrible thing. We all started out the same way, cells that latched on to each other and did not let go; but when the time came to be born, we came differently; the point being that we came nevertheless. Via surgery or natural birth we got here and we got here with our own unique set of personalities. 

It’s hard and almost impossible to own your flaws or what others see as your shortcomings, but it is deeply comforting to know that those things that some people loathe about you, others will love. So be like my seven cupcakes, be your own version of okay. Love your freckles, your stretchies, your vulnerability, your whatever it is that makes you somewhat different ; be a unicorn! Be magical, be different, be you. Don’t apologize for your uniqueness, it is not your job to make being around you easy for anyone or to make anyone like you; those who will, will like you regardless. 

“Conventional is not for me. I like things that are uniquely Flo. I like being different.”  –Florence Griffith 

Insomnia and I, we get along quite well unfortunately. Some nights are easy, I just fall into bed and I am off and most likely won’t wake up till dawn; but some nights like tonight, my eyes stay wide awake, as bright as the sun. Sleep becomes a distant memory and I toss and turn till there’s nothing left of the sheets. 

Tonight is one of those nights. I’m vaguely grateful for my blog app and that I can share my thoughts without assembling my laptop. So it’s me and my phone, sitting at the balcony, reveling in the silence; sweet merciful silence. The generators are off thankfully; no blaring horns, no noise; just peace…

What do you do when you can’t sleep? It’s way too hot for me to consider making a cup of tea. I tried the white noise on my phone and my mum said it sounded like witchcraft! Does witchcraft have a sound??? So it’s me and my phone and my thoughts and the candy bar I found under my pillow.

So today, Mr. E brushed me aside for his mistress soccer. I don’t think there’s anything he loves more, sigh…and he didn’t say goodnight(yes,shade!) maybe if he were up, atleast this insomnia would have fierce competition. Back to reality, my mum has summoned me away from the balcony. “Please come inside and lock my doors for me!!! The days are evil!” I’m very grateful for the darkness that keeps her from seeing just how much I rolled my eyes. 

This room is hot. I forgot to charge my phone. Oh! Nepa or Phcn or whatever your name is, please have a heart and give us light. Me too I’ll do shakara tomorrow, shebi you love your soccer; I will find something to love ni. I need a spa day and a manipedi asap!. What will I do to my hair? To cut it again and color, or no? 

Those are all the thoughts running through my tired mind. I need to break up with insomnia, it’s becoming a very toxic relationship.

What do you do when you cannot fall asleep???

“Dear 3am, we have got to stop meeting this way; I’d much rather sleep with you.”- Anonymous