You are a fighter

Do I like to sit 6 hours plus braiding my hair? No. Do I like how I look after braiding my hair? Yes.

Do i genuinely love salads more than cake? No. Do I like Joselyn Dumas' waist? Yes.

Would I rather sleep in than go out in the scorching sun to hustle? Yes. But do I enjoy being broke? No.

Is it easier to give people a piece of mind and tear them to shreds when they have stepped out of line? Yes. Is it what Jesus would want me to do? No.

Is it easier to be bitter and resentful to people who have hurt us? Yes. Does it make us feel better? No.

Is sin sweet? Yes. Did Jesus die for us to keep throwing His love back at Him? No.

Will the process be hard? Yes. Will your future be assured? YES! YES! YES!

We don't let our feelings and emotions dictate how we should act. We do what needs to be done whether we like it or not because of the promised future.

Go and do what needs to be done this week and smash those goals. You'd be happy you did when the results start showing. Xx

You are a fighter. Do not give up now. You can do hard things. 😘 Tag a fighter.

Peace, love and sunshine.

Your favourite writer girl,

Love.

Sometimes the woman is King

'Sometimes, the King is a woman.' Sometimes the onus of taking critical decisions falls on the woman. I feel some type of way however using the word 'sometimes.' It depicts an abnormality; a deviation from a norm which should not exist in the first place. It gives credence to the benevolence extended to women who thrive. The King figuratively speaking, can be the man or the woman.

Do I think men and women are equal?

Mrs. Shu remains one of the most happy-go-lucky women I ever met. My memories of her are her chirpy laughter and her signature cookies. Always welcoming and nice, it was hard to believe she didn't have kids of her own. I often wondered how could be do happy and giving.

Once I saw her convert a room in her home to cater to guests she did not know personally. One of the beneficiaries unknown to Mrs Shu was a big shot. He asked her to mention anything she wanted but she declined.

One year later, Mrs Shu birthed little Shu. Rumour had it that Mr. Big Shot had prayed to his God to bless her with a child.

Little Shu had a head accident one day and ran to his papa who was working, who in turn sent him to his mama because he couldn't handle that kind of pressure. She swung into action immediately. Asked her driver to go on full speed until she got to Mr Big Shot. Mr. Big Shot came and handled the situation.

Mr and Mrs Shu understood their areas of strength and weakness. He was introverted, she was extroverted. They had differences that made them strong and provided balance. Are men and women equal? No! Equal would mean sameness. No two men or two women are the same. How much more preaching equality between two completely different group of homosapiens. Men and women are UNIQUE and DISTINCT and should be allowed to EQUALLY function in their areas of capacity.

Society tells women and men what is expected from them and how they must fit into certain roles even when it doesn't come naturally to them. Ultimately, everyone gets frustrated.

So this is my submission:
If the woman likes to cook, she should cook.
If the man likes to cook, he should cook.
If the woman is enabled to provide, she should.
If the man is enabled to provide, he should.
Both man and woman should be parents and share responsibilities that showcase their strengths.

Get you a man/woman who understands that marriage is a partnership of two equally unique individuals. No one's role should be undermined.

We are equally unique. Let love rule.

Peace, love and sunshine.

Your favourite writer girl,

Love.

Why I love pictures

There's something graceful about pictures. A simple shot holds so many stories -narratives of joy, pain, happiness, fulfilment, battles, values and peace. These tales known only to the person in the picture and not the one who captures the image.

Pictures have a way of reminding you not to forget- who you are, who you were, what you have and what you had. It's so easy to forget. They serve as a memorial of battles you fought and won or lost. Friends who stood the test of time or the ones who betrayed you.

Everyone smiles in a picture. Onlookers would see a beautiful picture when they look but only you know know the story(ies) behind the picture.

I love pictures. I love to capture memories. They help me stay grounded and level headed. It helps me remain thankful as I can compare where I was to where I am. I have pictorial evidence.

These pictures remind me that I am strong. They hold stories of fighting and winning. And losing too. It reminds me of how I started from nothing and built something beautiful. It reminds me of friends who had my back when I had nothing to offer. It reminds me of family who supported my dreams. It reminds me of betrayal. It reminds me of the beautiful ones who looked up to me. I had to be strong for them when I couldn't be for myself. It reminds me that my purpose is not about how I feel. It reminds me that I can always make do with what I have. It reminds me that there are no perfect conditions. It reminds me of toil and sweat. It reminds me of letting go and moving on. It reminds me that there are always more grounds to conquer. It reminds me that God is always there. It reminds me that God's silence is also an answer. It reminds me of the lengths I went for survival. I actually forgot I once handcut and sold vegetables to supermarkets. It reminds me that I am resilient and brave. It reminds me that I am beautiful. It reminds me that God always chooses me for the toughest battles because He trusts me. It reminds me to always be optimistic about the future. It reminds me to always see the beauty in chaos.

Why do you love pictures?
#Throwback

Peace, love and sunshine.

Your favourite writer girl,
Love.

The prize

'The roads were dark and deserted.

I could hear echoes of my own breadth and birds chirping away.

Still I pushed on. Walking as fast as my feet could carry me.

The sound from my slippers- 'kpish kpash' kept me company on the lonely road.

It was getting really late. I contemplated turning back but how I could I come this far and lose. And return with nothing?

Yes, in all honestly, I wasn't quite sure what the prize was. The Voice did not reveal. There was something about The Voice that made me believe there was a prize somewhere. And whatever it was, it would be worth it.

Alone on my lane, I caught a glimpse of others who walked in groups and had flashlights. Their light hearted banter was endearing. It would be nice to have such company but The Voice said this was a solo trip for me. I had so many cuts and bruises from groping in the dark and falling way too many times. 'What kind of journey is this one?' He said something about trusting in the power of my sight especially when I couldn't see. Rada rada

It did not make sense but I continued. Finally, I was at the end of the road. He said 'Turn right' and in that instant, the entire place was lighted up with halogen bulbs that made the flashlights I had seen earlier insignificant.

The Voice said 'Look.' I looked ahead of me and I must have frozen for what seemed like 10,800 seconds. He was the most beautiful creature ever. He walked towards me and I felt an eruption in my heart. His eyes so radiant, Michael Ealy got nothing on him. His lips looked like they had been kissed by God. He held my hands and said, 'Let me love You.'

I hastily freed my hands from his. 'Me? Why me?'

'Because like you, I have been on a journey searching for my prize and I was led here. Now that I've found You, I'm not about to let you slip away', he said.

I blushed and whispered a silent thank-you to The Voice and then said, 'Hi, my name is Love.' He replied, 'My name is Whatever-you-want-me-to-be and I will walk 1000 more deserted roads for you'

I love you.😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

Peace, love and sloppy wet kisses.

Your favourite writer girl,

Love.