Corper Wee Tales

 Thirty Tales

Episode 3

Corper Wee Tales

Omo! I had the strictest boss ever in my PPA. Everyone was scared of her. She was mean and used really demeaning words on people. My grandma died and we were to travel for the burial. The burial was for Friday but my parents were to leave the Monday before that and they were to pick me along. The difficult part was asking for permission. Her PA prepped me on how to go about it. I was to take an invitation card addressed to her and then chip in my request. I prayed and was even fasting before I went in. I gave he and sought permission to be absent for the week. She looked at me and said "Even if it is your mother that died, I will not give you one week". Huh! I wanted to say "my mother will not die in Jesus name" but I changed my mind and said it in my heart. She eventually gave me Thursday and Friday. My daddy had to send someone back to get me. Every time I think of her, I never want to be that kind of boss.

-----‐---------------------------------------------------------------

When everybody was using office internet to apply for jobs and/or trying to get themselves retained, I was applying to schools in the UK. It was what I wanted and I did not know how I was going to go about it but I just gave it a shot. All the schools I wanted required me to write long articles. It took so much of my time. Then I found University of Westminster and the course "Global media". I immediately fell in love with it. I read reviews and the school ranked top as the best university in media in the UK. I waited about a month ro hear back from them and I was accepted. 

It was at this point I told my parents all that I had been doing in the background and the rest they say history.

If you want something, go for it. 

Your favourite writer girl,

Love

Thirty Tales(2) Sexual Predators 2

 

Thirty Tales

On sexual predators (2)

I don't really think I was too much of a bookworm. I think people are just exaggerating 😂. I kid. Me sef I know say I like book.

Anyway, when I found out the amount of course work we had to cover in uni; I decided I needed to read smarter and not longer. Getting an A was simple logic. I took my CAs very seriously. So if for instance I score a 30 out of 40 in my CA, It means I only need 40 marks in exam to get an A (A begins from 70 marks).

We were required to answer only 4 questions. If a question carries 20 marks then it means I only need to answer 2 questions correctly. In addition to my 30 marks in CA, I already have an A. It was so simple.

Most times, I would select topics I knew were sure to come out, about 4-5 of them and leave the rest. This method worked almost all the time (there were difficult courses like Syntax, Phonology etc. that this could not work for). I mostly had As and then some Bs. My life was great. I had plotted my way to a first class from 100 level.

One Monday evening, I was lying on my bed when I received a text. It read "Meet me at Atlas hotel by 10am on Wednesday. Dr. O*****". I must have read it like 10 times. Me? Hotel? For what? I deleted the text. On Wednesday, I switched off my phone throughout the day. I avoided Dr. O***** (who was taking us two courses that semester) throughout that week. By the next Monday, I got the same text. I switched off my phone again on Wednesday.

By the next class, I sat behind so we would not even make eye contact. Two people behind me were talking. Next thing I heard "You, you are busy making noise in my class abi, get out". I turned to look at the culprits and faced my front again. "Is it not you I'm talking to?". It was now obvious he was referring to me. Everyone around me was like "Ah sir, she was not talking o". He shouted "get out of my class". That's how I gathered my things. A whole me! The golden child being sent out of a class. Na wa o. E pain am sha as I ghost am.

I ran into him once at the school entrance, I greeted him and he ignored me. Exams now came. I had passed this man's CAs. Instead of selecting topics, I read all because I knew he was out for me. What's the worst that he could do? I knew he could not fail me. It wouldn't make sense for a straight A student to suddenly come up with an F. But this man was smart. Results came out and he gave me 2 Cs in both courses that he took us. Getting 2 Cs in my 300 level second semester shattered my dreams of a first class. It was not something that could be reported. It did not add up but there was nothing I could do. The next time I saw him, he had this smirk on his face that said "Do me, I do you".

Thank God for God sha that does not need a first class to bless you. Grateful for how things turned out because it turns out, you do not need to have a first class to live a first class life.

Your favourite writer girl,

Love

Thirty Tales (1)

 

THIRTY TALES- I turn 30 in 8 days. I hope to post stories from the decade 21-30 every day until the 2nd of February.

On sexual predators

I got into the university at the age of 16. I was a child. Both my parents went with me to settle me in just like in the days of boarding school. This time however, things were different. There was this huge void. It felt like I had been left alone to face the world. I cried after they left. On most days, before lectures resumed; I would go to the common room and sit there for hours lost in my own thoughts. I just wanted my mummy.

Registration began and we had to get our courses for the semester signed on the course form by each lecturer. One of such courses was a compulsory borrowed course from the English department (I studied Linguistics in my first degree). I joined the queue outside the lecturer's office. Everyone went in and came out swiftly and then it was my turn. I got in, closed the door behind me and greeted him waiting for him to gesture that I approach his table.

He looked up at me, put his head back down and continued what he was doing. I was confused. So I managed to mutter "Please sir, I would like to sign my course form". "Sit", he said. I wondered if that was the process everyone else went through. I sat but I was very uneasy, I just wanted to get it over with.

He got up, came around the table and sat by the chair next to me. "What's your name?", he asked. "Love", I said. "Let me have the course form", he said. I handed it over to him. "06224004", he said calling out my student identification number as he handed it back to me without signing. "I like you. Be mine and enjoy your life in this school till you graduate. You will never have to read to pass", he said as he placed his hand on my left thigh. I jumped up clutching my course form to my chest. I was furious. My eyes must have turned red from anger. I said nothing. I turned around and headed for the door. Just as I placed my hand on the knob, he said "I know your registration number, I will find you". I did not look back as I opened the door and walked away. I was trembling.

I ran back to my room, buried my head in my pillow and cried. I contemplated calling my mother but I changed my mind. She would panic and there really wasn't anything she could do. I was now a big girl. Big girl, big problems.

I avoided the road that led to his office for the longest time possible and till almost end of the semester, my course form was still not signed. Luckily for me, the course rep was asked to gather all unsigned course forms as there were many people who resumed late and it was not practical for them to go individually to every lecturer. I snuck my course form in and it was signed along with the rest. The idiot must have missed my name and number. It was easy to avoid him in the lecture halls (we barely had lectures anyway. We read on our own for most courses). It was a very large class consisting of hundreds of students. At the end of that semester, I had straight As (or almost..) in all courses including his. He must have forgotten about me or so I thought.

We never saw again until I was in 400 level. We had been taken to a Government secondary school to write our exams. As I walked into one if the classes, there he was. He smiled wryly. He was an invigilator. I quickly did an about turn. I went to stay under a tree until it was time for the paper. I went to another class and stayed at a corner. The idiot was searching for me. I could see him from where I sat moving from class to class. He would pop his head in, scan the class and move. He finally got to mine. He popped his in, saw me and approached my table. I did not look up. I continued writing. He stood over my head and would not move so I finally looked up. He took my answer script, turned to the first page and read out my registration number; "06224004". He dropped it and said "I told you I will find you" and then he walked away.

Nothing came of his threats as I passed that particular course he invigilated with an A. We never saw again.

Sometimes I think about it and I wish i could get the police to find him and arrest him. I wish I wasn't so scared. I wish I sought legal action. I wish I knew what I know now. How do you sexually harass and threaten a child? I was 16!!!

BUT I am thankful to God who always keeps His promise to protect us.

"...the Lord always does what he has promised...He will keep you safe when Satan attacks you."
2 Thessalonians 3:3 EASY translation

Your favourite writer girl,
Love.

Live band or DJ

True Life Story.

As wedding preparation began, my dad said he would handle music. I was already in the process of trying to get the number of a DJ that I had seen perform.

My father said not to worry about it. I specifically told him, 'Live band and DJ'. Weeks to the wedding, I would randomly remind him and he would say 'I don't know who disturbs most, you or your mother'. Ok o.

A day before the wedding, he went to check out the venue. When he got back, he was gisting me how the decorator had transformed the hall. I was excited and then I quickly asked, "Has the DJ set up?". He told me they would set up the next day. I even chipped in 'please tell him to play 'clean' songs' (original PK).

Day of wedding came. Beautiful day!.Then it was time for reception. Live band began. Lovely something. I now whispered to MC that DJ can start now, that Live band is okay. He now said 'but there's no DJ'. I was confused. I asked him to please go and check again. NO DJ

Fam, I wanted to cry. But I remembered hubs and I had agreed that NOTHING was going to spoil our day. So I decided to fully enjoy my liveband (see pictures). I even started spraying them money after they hailed me 😂

Appaz my father did not know the difference between DJ and LIVE BAND. Music is music 😀

Your favourite writer girl,
Love.

The Akara story

On Sunday morning, I opened my eyes at 4:45am. After I prayed, I went into the kitchen. I looked around, measured three cups of beans and started the process of akara. Totally unplanned. I was on my feet from start to finish (but trust me to take the easier road with these kind of things, I peeled the back of the beans with a blender).

Now if you know me personally, you will know that kitchen activities are not my forte, neither will I randomly pick a 'difficult' choice of home made akara (which I have not done in years) over a simple bread and tea for breakfast.

I did not know what had gotten into me. Then it occured to me that an Instagram account I follow (@foodace) had posted the previous night that she would be making akara and pap for breakfast the next day. I casually swiped past the post and had no idea it had registered in my subconscious.

That was why the first thing that came to mind as I stepped into my kitchen was to make akara. INFLUENCE. It was a great influence though as my daughter has now crowned me "Best Cook in the World". You should have seen me grinning from ear to ear. She said my akara taste better than the one we buy. I feel proud.

On a daily basis, we are all being influenced by what we see, hear and read; consciously and otherwise. We must guard our hearts especially at a time like this. Watching porn or masturbation videos on social media is never just casual. It goes to register itself in your mind and you become a slave to it. Don't do it. It's not worth it.

Use this time to read great books (and save your data), watch great movies (there's OVERCOMER on netflix), filter WhatsApp broadcasts and PRAY. Only let positive influence filter through.

If you haven't read my amazing book, #31mornings, now is a great time to get the PDF for just N1,000 (check flier attached for details). We now have all the time in the world to read.

What or who are you allowing to influence you? Guard your hearts.

Peace, love and serenity,

Your favourite writer girl,
Love.

Before I die, I'll live

"Mummy, when will we start going to church and school?", Nifemi asked me. It has probably began to get to my baby girl too.

We have never had it this bad. By we, I mean those of us in the north. We are used to curfews and general unrest. There's always one religious crisis or the other. We hide. It blows over after a few weeks. Life resumes.

For the first time, it's not about what religion we practice or who we voted. It's about survival. A fight for life. A deep seated fear that my precautions alone cannot save me. I can only hope those around me take precautions too. My life depends on it. All our lives depend on it.

I open my Instagram each day and as I scroll through, I see a celebrity face more than once and I already know- that person has contacted the virus too. My chest tightens a bit and I feel like the walls are closing in. I get up, disinfect my door handles and surfaces and force my husband and daughter to wash their hands for the umpteenth time and read more horrible news. Every gaddam day. Fear!

So today I said to fear, 'ENOUGH'. I skipped every bad news on my feed today. My papa preached a message tagged 'Supposing there's no tomorrow?' It got me thinking. There's a list of things I would love to do if there is no tomorrow. So here's what I've chosen to do:
* Pick up working out again
* Eating healthy
* Lots of dancing
* Lots of singing
* Writing my book
* Reading books
* Bonding with God
* Bonding with family
* Pray for all our health workers
* Drinking loads of water
* Watching movies
* Work on my website
* Staying safe
* Practicing social distancing
* CHILL

No more fear. I am going to live this life to the fullest and not dwell on thoughts of the virus. You attract your thoughts. We will beat corona virus and that's what I have chosen to think about. And as my new book title says, BEFORE I DIE, I'LL LIVE.

What would you do today if there was no tomorrow?

Peace, love and God's protection,

Your favourite writer girl,
Love.

Everything with God is a big deal

GOD HUMBLED ME!!!
God is the greatest. There's so much going on in the world right now that has got me really really thinking. Tonight, I can't help but think about how the lives of young school girls WITHIN the confines of their school (and the hundreds of people in that area who were also affected) ended due to the gas explosion. They were not walking on the road o!

Anyway, back to my own testimony. You know how God does something for you, you like it o, but you make it sound trivial; not a big deal. Listen, everything with God is a BIG DEAL!

I had a fever last week. It started on Wednesday afternoon and I was due to sing that same evening. I took my injections and was on stage 10 minutes later. I sang my heart out and was basically making the declarations in that song over my health (I overcame by Ada Ehi). God worked wonders, I was still able to express breastmilk for my son and I began to get better. By night, I was bent over as I sat and I noticed breastmilk had leaked all the way to the floor. It was a large quantity. I made a careless statement, "na wa o, when I'm not selling it. Abeg, all this leaking is disturbing me".

I woke up early the next morning to express as usual and I got a very little quantity. Strange! I continued by day's activities. By afternoon I got about 50ml. It is not even up to a quarter of what Raph takes. I pumped every hour and kept getting between 30-50ml. My mum and mum in love had to come over. I drank papa and kunu like my life depended on it.

By Saturday morning, it became obvious that I had to find an alternative. I was drained, weak and frustrated. By afternoon, still no bmilk so we bought a can of formula. Ha! I cried silent tears. Nothing wrong with formula but I couldn't just understand how I went from excess to nothing. My mum kept saying "You have tried your best." We gave him and after many attempts he eventually took it. I was VERY sad.

We went for choir rehearsals but my mind was unsettled so I left. I went to my room and played back everything in my mind and realized I was the cause of my own misfortune. So I prayed. I called God 'The giver and taker of breastmilk'. I asked him to have mercy and restore. Before my son woke, I tried to pump again. Ladies and gentlemen, it began to flow. That's how I jejely packed the formula away. Raph didn't have to take it a second time. Onise Iyanu did his wonders. God has completely restored us. Tonight as I expressed (all that quantity in less than an hour), I got a prompting to share this testimony.

I am reminded again never to take the blessings of God for granted. Also, words are powerful. I will never ever complain about excess milk in my life.

Also, don't forget, everything with God is BIG DEAL.

Peace, love and joy,

Your favourite writer girl,
Love.