tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30042745323684351932024-02-20T09:50:51.106+01:00UNCOMMON STORIES OF KOINONIABlissfully reminding You of ChristKoinonitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569499385617241022noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-66239723941748106082017-01-13T08:56:00.000+01:002017-01-13T09:00:20.933+01:00Waiting for the "Opportunity" that will make you blow<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7YItaMmOPg-XGE1WT-4fg4mKgnX-HjLCazOgMvMTXD7ofcgy2x9ted3Du9IIYFupkDyJ-sMdh3UoXubnyxuLg3_93fJLF_mR98Xm0q6AMd9zxFs20xtVcPgrAf8eIAOHphrbKG8VhzQ/s1600/K+Post+pic.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Koinonia" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7YItaMmOPg-XGE1WT-4fg4mKgnX-HjLCazOgMvMTXD7ofcgy2x9ted3Du9IIYFupkDyJ-sMdh3UoXubnyxuLg3_93fJLF_mR98Xm0q6AMd9zxFs20xtVcPgrAf8eIAOHphrbKG8VhzQ/s1600/K+Post+pic.JPG" title="" /></a></div>
"I will soon blow"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"blow to where?", I asked the young man. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When all you do is sit here throwing things into your mouth and calling on every lady that passes by. Obi's face has become a sign post to locate either the school or Mama Neye's shop. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was one of those days I had to pick my brothers from school and the teacher remembers to display all her teaching skills. And everyone had to wait outside the school gate to pick their kids or siblings. I decided to sit at Mama Neye's shop who was our usual gala and lacasera customer. I can't even explain exactly how I got into this discussion with this guy but you know when it's supposed to be an interaction but at this point you just sit mute starring. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So this particular day he was telling me how he will become successful when the time comes. That his opportunity will come soon. He was so defensive and didn't allow anyone interrupt his speech, so I just watched him rant. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The truth is that just like Newton's 1st law of motion 'an object either remains at rest unless acted upon by a net force.' Many people sit down doing nothing and keep waiting for this opportunity that will make them blow. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My dear, you can't risk your life to that, create opportunities for yourself. We think success is an opportunity or event, so we wait for it. This is a deception. An opportunity may help you but it won't guarantee your success. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We believe success comes from luck, so we hope for it. Sweetheart, you may hope to the grave. Some think success is leverage and recognition, so they strive for that. See, being in all those top political or powerful positions does not mean you are successful. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then others think success comes from connections, so they network for it. Success is in how you treasure and maximize today, yesterday is gone and you can't depend on tomorrow. Living today at its best is living successful.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So, are you waiting for the opportunity that will make you blow?<br />
Think again... </div>
Chimdindu Ugwuanyihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16426585220973432302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-91163623803429377182017-01-11T10:54:00.003+01:002017-01-11T10:55:01.011+01:00Family Ouse 9<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
That was the story behind Dikachi’s journey to RAINBOWING, the sister began combining, it wasn’t here o. On one Sunday, they saw; Purple beret, yellow blazer, she had a truck load of dem blazers, black and green stripped skirt, white camisole, purple rose, red wrist watch, red, yellow and green polka dotted handbag with black shoes and a white handkerchief, she never went without a kerchief. Ada knew G-Aunty was only appearing this way cos of her challenge but she wouldn’t let it slide. She kept making exaggerated sympathetic remarks of sisters with ill- taste fashion buds and the alarming increase of disciples being recruited in the ouse, intending to slight Dikachi who was hanging around Chizzy and Ossai more often now, having lost most of her acknowledged friends to the POP-divide.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvPYXeekHbSv9JLZ2MlaqREuB0o5xavgqJfByvWR_LvCjEdmJMM1xTeMFsbcUNQWoLcg-YUliCDL_KSIMfRAJnm7PPKzFHejUu4XIMNC5903uaHAy6-1BPnIM080qBuu80qbep87oEhc/s1600/Family+house.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvPYXeekHbSv9JLZ2MlaqREuB0o5xavgqJfByvWR_LvCjEdmJMM1xTeMFsbcUNQWoLcg-YUliCDL_KSIMfRAJnm7PPKzFHejUu4XIMNC5903uaHAy6-1BPnIM080qBuu80qbep87oEhc/s1600/Family+house.JPG" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
One of those days, think on a Saturday, while they were decorating the sanctuary, Sister Obia walked in, she’d just come in from the market, and was spotting a collared A-line pink gown that had an attached white camisole and pink snickersish ropes that could be drawn and knotted as you’ud your snickers and of course pink belt, she’d securely knotted this behind. A red handbag hung from her right shoulder probably to match the red wrist watch she wore. She wore the Nude flats, sweet potatoes nude.<br /><br />“SIS.tah Chezzi guraftahnoon” Obia’s spirits were HIGH,<br /><br />“Ehn, ah Obia, I was wondering why I hadn’t seen you all this while, good afternoon dear,” She turned to greet properly, recognizing the voice first,<br /><br />“Sister, where are you coming from glittering like this nah? You’ud be enjoying alone, eating your allowee yasef yasef” Ada who’d been sitting with her back to the sanctuary entrance, supplying bellow-belt humour aimed at ‘destroying’ the ego of foes like Dikachi et al, swung round.<br /><br />“Jesus o, Orbi, ina ete kwa ka anwu o. You’re shinning like the sun o.” Ada exclaimed, genuinely shocked at the choice of colour combo. Obia was all grins already,<br /><br />“nnwanne madu, it isu God o. Person sister, it’s God o.”<br /><br />“My dear, God is sooo good He makes you shine like the RAINBOW!” Ada couldn’t resist the bite. Chizzy cleared her throat and tried to catch Ossai’s eye, that one was already snickering, though a lil embarrassed all the same. Only they knew what exactly their friend was up to.<br /><br />“hehe, SIS.tah Ahda, you are soh funny, which one is lainbow?!”<br /><br />“Ask yasef nah, you came in looking all RAINBOW. Nna, combination giwa n’abazikwa na anya, o n’achazikwa ka decoration material. (literally) your combination is entering the eye o, it’s coloured like this decoration material.”<br /><br />Sis Obia was only beginning to get the point however slow. Chizzy quickly intervened,<br /><br />“Orbi, pls go and change up if you want to and come join us, we need more hands dear, not everyone here is willing to help.” She eyeballed Ada.<br /><br />“Eh o, every man should mine his field in this harvest o. Do I use to ask anybody to come and help me pray in intercessory unit? Bikonu, mine your field, lemme mine my own. Even Jesus said the Labourers are few, so oburo this one you’re saying now!”<br /><br />“Ada ehn, you’re impossible, tufia!” Chizzy bantered.<br /><br />“Ehn, are we not all impossible?! All these people that would be combining aggressive colours and shinning like rainbow, looking like your deco materials are they possible? Rappu dah thing, nobody is possible, only with God is everything possible.” Ada was enjoying Dikachi’s silence, what could she even say.<br /><br />“Ada shift biko, ina ako off point every time.” Chinenye joined.<br /><br /> “As in eh, OFF THE HOOK.” Chizzy echoed, waving her right hand twice in short movements.<br /><br />“Which one is off ther hoork, eh Chizzy? See, off ther hoork or not, my own cannot be worse than Bro. Abana’s off point o. Stay and be forming English, don’t tell all these colour-abusing brethren to repect dress sense small.” She winked at her friends and nodded in Dikachi’s direction; it was her secret victory sign, one the other two understood and were helpless about.<br /><br />They could not stop Ada’s villainous vain attacks on unsuspecting brethren, all they always could do was sympathize with the victim who often never knows he/she is a victim or even a side-victim, cos in such onslaughts, there were always side-victims, like today, Obia had been the side-victim. Ada’s taking her on was just a bait to lure Dikachi into the conversion so she could tell her just what she thought of her recent fashion-preferences. It pained Chizzy that Ada should know better; Dikachi’s clothes were sent back home so she’s been trying to made do with what she still had left. Ada should just let things rest really.<br /><br /> Ada walked off flashing her dentition in very gay spirits, she hoped Queen G-Aunty and the Rainbow famille represented in the Deco team would have learnt a lesson or two. She only wished G-Aunty had said a word, just one word, so she’ud have told her to her face that she’s crowned her, Acting President, Rainbow Brethren Associates. She felt the victory thrill again; this POP-divide wasn’t this bad after all now.</div>
Ihuoma Chidirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16859893465767162396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-43915698242002270192016-11-30T10:30:00.000+01:002017-01-11T10:57:17.920+01:00Family Ouse 8<div style="text-align: justify;">
The ouse was mildly boring now, majorly for the left-behind Batch B Corps Members. Let's not be Chimamanda; her knack for the 'mild' word endears her to the heart often, reality was the ouse was BORING, scanty-boring. The Batch A, stream 1 Jesus Corpers were gone, solely courtesy of the misplaced directive from the Federal Quarters, absolutely misplaced.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvPYXeekHbSv9JLZ2MlaqREuB0o5xavgqJfByvWR_LvCjEdmJMM1xTeMFsbcUNQWoLcg-YUliCDL_KSIMfRAJnm7PPKzFHejUu4XIMNC5903uaHAy6-1BPnIM080qBuu80qbep87oEhc/s1600/Family+house.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvPYXeekHbSv9JLZ2MlaqREuB0o5xavgqJfByvWR_LvCjEdmJMM1xTeMFsbcUNQWoLcg-YUliCDL_KSIMfRAJnm7PPKzFHejUu4XIMNC5903uaHAy6-1BPnIM080qBuu80qbep87oEhc/s1600/Family+house.JPG" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Nonetheless Ada wasn't the least peturbed, the trio were still around, twas really a good thing they had all been dispatched as stream 2. Her joy wasn't exactly just that, twas also the frustration the POP-divide seemingly planted on the brows of not-exactly-friends brethren, Dikachi; the sister’s love for Queen’s Anglais had never settled well with Ada, it just reminded her how Nigerianly Igbo she often sounded, Abayomi; forgiving Bayo was still a battle she wasn’t about to quit fighting; Tc; got too endeared to Chizzy at some point and left Ada feeling threatened, she learnt to accept her as a friend’s friend, however painfully, so knowing Tc wasn’t finding the extended POP funny gave her a kinda victory-thrill, Tc’s almost perpetual brooding was just apt in keeping Chizzy farther from her and closer to the trio, and other brethren who unsurprisingly didn't make it to her GOOD BOOKS within the one year NYSC crisscrossed their paths.<br /><br /> Ada was like that, you got penned down in her illusionary ''ah don like this one' book for OVERDOING, posing a threat/competition, showing yasefeh et etcetera. And you know some brethrenS are gifted in overdoing nah, trying to act all Porsche; manufacturing unsolicited r’s in words; ill fitted Americanizing. That’s, you “praise ther Lorrrd” not “the Lord” or even “dah Lod”, the latter’s more acceptable to Ada; Igbo geh she be. Having the form of OVERZEALOUSNESS or an appearance of it; you're simply the 'zeal without knowledge' category, Bro. Abana’s type; eager to showcase your ‘apparent lack’ of knowledge in meetings, bible studies your HEROIC stage. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then the RAINBOW brethren; spotting those eye-shuttering, AGRESSIVE colour shade combinasions; tatashi Red this, ripe cashew Yellow that, MS word Blue this, Super Eagles Green that, Chidire’s stiletto Orange this, a lil touch of Chichi’s bridal Purple that, then the clown apparel is crowned with the now ill-trending sweet potatoes Nude flats. Noticeably and without prejudice anyway, the RAINBOW brethren where majorly residential in Eastern Nigeria; mostly Anambra and Abia states and their immediate neighbours, say Delta, Enugu, Akwa-Ibom, Imo, Ebonyi, and etc, however few though, mean the immediate neighbours.<br /><br />Ada and Dikachi had no direct feud; Dikachi just kept to herself, not exactly keep-keep, but she would likely not add more to a ‘hello’ she says to you except you say more and her reply even at that would be a polite, “I’m fine, thank you.” Let’s just say she is the supposedly introvert type who’s kinda extrovert with her friends only, however she makes ‘those’ friends. So until she’s spoken to, she’s with herself, by herself, that’s if her ‘acknowledged’ friends are MIA. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ada did not exactly like Dikachi, not because she was always thanking the “Lord for a refreshing in His presence” in supposed Queen’s Anglais whenever she co-ordinated meetings, or that Chizzy somewhat became one of her acknowledged friends, twas just that she a threat, competition, for Ada. You know how brothers annoyingly tell you that they like quite sisters every time a seemingly quite sister walks by, they often never get to know these persons close up, just because the sister(s) no dey give them face, makes them, ‘...like quiet sisters.’ Dikachi was that seemingly ‘quiet’ type brothers always confessed taking a liking to, triggering Ada’s sense of competition. They should be liking nah, Ada sef LIKEs quiet brothers.<br /><br />Ada didn’t fancy being told she was noisy, loud, sanguine, or etc. She wasn’t exactly sanguine, but could get so animated and aggressive you’ud think she was all San-choleric. Those seasonal, energetic displays could only be achieved by an ALL THE WAY extrovert, and Ada wasn’t even extro. She wasjust that unique blend nobody could tell when and how what went wrong did. She and Dikachi were both Mel-Phelgs, though she alone knew that. Hold o, Dikachi knew too. Ada felt the unspoken resentment from her sometime, twas VERY mutual, they didn’t have to say anything to each other. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
T'was the day Chizzy introduced Dikachi, in her the-more-the-merrier way, “Ada come and meet our new sister-friend, Onyedikachi, but everybody calls her Dikachi now, courtesy of Brother Uche....” Ada had spontaneously asked “who’s ‘our’?”even before she sat up in bed where she’d been curled up, reading Randy Alcorn’s PURITY PRINCIPLE. Chizzy replied “Ossai and I nah, she joined our deco team and we’ud be, Ossai and I, her direct coaches, can you imagine? Shey you’ve refused to join us, we’re still increasing everyday o.” Ada just said “hello,” not bothering with the G-Aunty title that accrued Dikachi’s status as an immediate past AGS. Their eyes met and despite the smile, “we don’t like us” was an unspoken message between both.<br /><br />Dikachi was an ex- State Exco, the immediate past Assistant General Secretary; G-Aunty, and so stayed in Deborah’s Corner; the room that housed all female State Excos, immediate past and present. Ada was not that waist-giving type, never. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In Mbaise, one is said to “were ukpu ya nye ha” when you belittle yourself or let’s just say, when you lack self respect that authors your being taken for granted. Ada had an over dose of self respect, she would never ‘were ukwu ya nye’ those sisters, excos or ex, never, not even in the Ouse, some brethren were just VERY Mafia in abusing such privileges. This ideology of hers was the reason she made no efforts to build any relations whatsoever with a plethora of sisters in the Ouse, especially female excos; their apparent Self-Constructed Spiritual Ecstasy was already an offensive deterrent, sufficient in itself.<br /><br />It suddenly hit Ada one day that Dikachi sef nah RAINBOW sister, spiritual and rainbow ; you’ll be combining those colours and you’ll now be packaging yasef like Queen Obama and thanking God for a refreshing in His presence anyhow, colour-blocking all the anointing. She was overjoyed, at least something to gloat about, was she thrilled?!<br /><br /> Dikachi had, like her organized self would do, sent her belongings home a week to the initial POP day for Batch A’s, that was before the news that Stream 2 would now leave a month after shattered hopes. Ada learnt later that when the authenticity of the news was verified and announced via the Ouse’s Megaphone, G-Aunty cried in her room, Chizzy told her that much. Ada had joyously asked Chizzy to help convey her embarrassment on G-Aunty’s behalf to G-Aunty. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
To her, crying was overdoing, what was the intended achievement? Sympathy? She nonetheless enjoyed the knowledge that her chief COMPETITON was emotionally weaker. Ada had nothing to lose, she wasn’t exactly sure where she was headed after service year and so the longer the evil day was moved the better...</div>
Ihuoma Chidirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16859893465767162396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-13952090171699866072016-11-10T21:09:00.003+01:002016-11-10T21:09:33.032+01:00Run away from the noiseHave you notice that they will post pictures on social media and a large number click and 'like'? <br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
They post Church/government rumor, many click and digest and even forward on.<br />
<br />
But a few post the following kind of messages and it is boring to their eyes, what a generation🤗<br />
<br />
Please take the next few minutes and read this life-altering article from my like-minded in Christ, feel free to share it; it is needed at this time. <br />
<br />
"The blaring (loud unpleasant noise) music from the speakers of the stereo, prevented Lady A who was standing afar off, from hearing clearly the words of Lady B. But if Lady A was determined to know what Lady B had to say due to the importance of the 'information', all lady A needed to do was to move closer to lady B and listen attentively! ISN'T IT???<br />
<br />
Likewise also, no matter the 'noise' around today, via false prophets, worldly songs and videos from the entertainment industry, high rate of moral decadence, etc; the VOICE OF TRUTH cannot be silenced nor changed. It is now left for whoever cares to listen to the Voice of Truth, knowing it's importance, and that it is LIFE to his/her soul; to move closer to the SOURCE(God), Read His MANUAL (Bible), and give full concentration, avoiding the 'distracting noise'!<br />
<br />
These days, we see a lot of misinterpretation to God's Word all in the bid to satisfy the flesh, a lot of preachers(even social media preachers) who now fail to speak the Truth on Holiness to their congregation, just because of their selfish gains; all they do is make 'empty proclamations'! A lot of 'it doesn't matter', worldliness even in the church; all in the bid to CHANGE, SILENCE, DILUTE THE TRUTH.<br />
<br />
This has even made a lot to be confused as to know what God's Word really says; and many have left the narrow way to the broad way, where anything goes!!! BUT, I tell you, whether we like it or not; WE HAVE NO EXCUSE! We have the Bible, The Holy Spirit, and other Faithful Preachers of God's Word, if indeed we desire to what the TRUTH is, what GOD's Word really stands for, and His Pattern of Holiness!<br />
<br />
This is also a CHALLENGE to those who have been saved by Grace, and God has revealed HIS TRUTH to them; but fail to preach this TRUTH to others, fail to rescue the perishing: Ezekiel 3:18 says: "When I say unto the wicked, thou shalt surely die; and you givest him not warning, nor speakest to warn the wicked from his wicked way, to save his life; the same wicked man shall die in his iniquity; but HIS Blood WILL I REQUIRE AT THINE HAND".<br />
<br />
WHATEVER FORM YOUR MESSAGE/TEACHINGS TAKES, IF IN THE END, IT DOES NOT POINT OTHERS TO CHRIST, THEN IT IS 'MERE NOISE'! The 'TRUTH TELLERS' have their reward in Heaven, the 'NOISE MAKERS' have their reward in Hell; what group do you belong?<br />
<br />
My Beloved brothers/sisters, irrespective of the 'noise' around, the Word of God remains unchanged! It is wise for us not to be carried away, but FOCUS on the TRUTH God has given to us, and hold on to it tightly!<br />
<br />
The world is preparing for the Antichrist, let's make our 'VOICE OF TRUTH' loud enough even to our immediate family, and let's all get prepared for the imminent return of Christ; it is just around 'the corner'! Let's keep our eyes fixed on the PRIZE, and not be distracted from the narrow way. My Beloved, whatever it will take us to walk that street of gold, to enter in through the pearly gates of Heaven, to wear that golden crown; Let us all do!!!<br />
<br />
I'll also like to invite you, still living in sin, to COME INTO THE ARK (JESUS) NOW; because, the 'flood of God's wrath and indignation' is coming upon this world! JESUS is the ONLY WAY, and He is going to judge all based on His Word! Your Pastor, friends, parents, cannot save you on that day; NO EXCUSE will be tenable on that day!<br />
<br />
Mere Religion cannot save you, PRACTICAL LIFE OF HOLINESS WITHIN and WITHOUT is the key! ACT FAST! ACT RIGHT! ACT NOW!!! Revelation 20:15: "And whosoever was not found written in the book of life was cast into the lake of fire". WHERE IS YOUR (MY) NAME WRITTEN??? "<br />
<br />
Give your life to Jesus today, and be set free. Look for a bible believing Church and grow in your faith.<br />
<br />
<i>Blessings, Mrs. Rabi E. [Original article from Funmibi O.]</i></div>
Koinonitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569499385617241022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-10716177243342624052016-11-04T10:18:00.001+01:002016-11-04T10:18:41.955+01:00Courtesy pays<div style="text-align: justify;">
You see, this young man entered the cab without my casting a second glance, but from my side view I knew he was dark, at least that much needed no not-minding-my-business to be seen. Some seconds after he sat, I saw a colleague-cum-hihi-friend and enthused from the cab all that, 'where's you doing the externship bla bla' and etc. <br />
Then out of nowhere, after we had just moved off, Jonny-just-enter asked strongly,<br />
"what level are you?"<br />
<br />
"I'm not a student" I replied plainly, with soooo much sarcasm-intent.<br />
<br />
"You have grajd?" (slang for graduated I believe) Jonny ventured again.<br />
<br />
"mn" I must have mumbled, so dazed that people were still THIS rude.<br />
<br />
My point exactly; a lil, 'hello', 'hi there' or even 'sorry' before the SILLY, quiet offensive, very-rude, off-the-point question was 'imposed' would have been a manner-so-approachable. Nobody's 'feeling hot' here, don't get this wrong, just that my state of shock showed that I NEVER imagined people could replace hello with, "what level are you?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What uncivility?! (if the word's still in vogue, that is).<br />
All the same, let's learn to be polite! You could never imagine what DOORS of INFORMATION a little politeness, courtesy, could open up for you!<br />
<br />
And for the records, I silently dared Jonny-Rudey to ask just one more question, one more, so I'ud ask, "How many wives does your Dad have?" Just to see his re-action! Cos on his face would have been my earlier re-action staring me in the face.<br />
<br />
LEARN TO BE COURTEOUS! IT PAYS!!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIEODxZXiFNBE5qDPD24EvLDV7O2XUu2fijSNW5j3PsvbjUM5nJ5o7TgkPI8WqiBu4Bs0T0mpOZAIvWI6wqzllceoo8rte6giLghET5ocqw2Jtqb4ZPdLp6_LbTOSkohLk2OkhfNu1rzY/s1600/K+Post+pic.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIEODxZXiFNBE5qDPD24EvLDV7O2XUu2fijSNW5j3PsvbjUM5nJ5o7TgkPI8WqiBu4Bs0T0mpOZAIvWI6wqzllceoo8rte6giLghET5ocqw2Jtqb4ZPdLp6_LbTOSkohLk2OkhfNu1rzY/s1600/K+Post+pic.JPG" /></a></div>
</div>
Ihuoma Chidirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16859893465767162396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-17234607070529541842016-10-31T21:25:00.001+01:002016-10-31T21:31:11.647+01:00Family Ouse 7<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvPYXeekHbSv9JLZ2MlaqREuB0o5xavgqJfByvWR_LvCjEdmJMM1xTeMFsbcUNQWoLcg-YUliCDL_KSIMfRAJnm7PPKzFHejUu4XIMNC5903uaHAy6-1BPnIM080qBuu80qbep87oEhc/s1600/Family+house.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Family Ouse" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvPYXeekHbSv9JLZ2MlaqREuB0o5xavgqJfByvWR_LvCjEdmJMM1xTeMFsbcUNQWoLcg-YUliCDL_KSIMfRAJnm7PPKzFHejUu4XIMNC5903uaHAy6-1BPnIM080qBuu80qbep87oEhc/s1600/Family+house.JPG" title="" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><b>Previously on Family Ouse 6</b><b>...</b></i> <a href="http://uskoinonia.blogspot.com/2016/10/family-ouse-6_24.html">Read here.</a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<i><b>Family Ouse 7 continues... </b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The
service year was gradually travelling to its final bus stop and the
nearer it sped towards home, the more apprehensive some brethren began
sounding.<br />
<br />
They initial Abeg-what-is-19,800-Who-e-epp attitude was
already dehydrating, if not ‘drated’, as corps members began to realize
that just very soon, no Okada was gonna carry you across town on an
almost free, na-cofa, ride, unless you choose to live by the khaki Id
forever, which no corps member ever appears eager to do.<br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Na
the cliché pretense nah, some corpers go like say allowee for stay till
after dem born grandchildren sef, but everybody go follow everyboby dey
ask, “who 19,800 epp?!” E epp cofa! Ask them! Allowee was 12 days late,
twasn’t FUNNY at all. You know family houses’ pipu sometimes can be
toooo BROKE, abi na still pretense?!<br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sha,
they were broke, at least the poor, unsuspecting brothers who had been
showing sisters GODLY LOVE, busy footing all their sweet-tooth expenses,
which on the surface had appeared as “…nooo, it’s nothing at all…”
until allowee no come show for one week plus. Nearly all sisters had
subscribed for the ouse’ monthly feeding plan, but the house still
needed pay cos only few brothers could afford to subscribe.<br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The
PHILANTHROPIST brothers were slacking, plenry of them. Being indebted
is a bad weight you just carry about, cannot be helped, whenever you see
your creditor, sweat go just dey full your body, AC or not.
Indebtedness bad, you just aint comfortable cos you’re indebted.<br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
That’s
what debtorhood does to you; it keeps you there, beneath the creditor.
Brothers’ wey dey owe come dey feel say everybody don sabi, the period
wasn’t funny for any ower. Announcements began frequenting the evenings
and they were VERY consistent, not just during meetings, twas like
someone was enjoying the ‘harrassment’. Mama put the Megaphone to
constant use, bad market for dem philanthropists. “Brethren, this his
(is) the kitchen calling, a call to remind hall (all) indebted Jesus
Corpers that the kitchen lacks funds to feed hits (its) many shildren…”<br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The
perspiration in David’s lair, brothers’ common room, grew intense.
“….Remember the bible says howe (owe) no man nothing but love, howe
(owe) the kitchen nothing but your food flask, if you’re howing more
than your foodflask, the Lord requires you to eed (heed) Is (His) word.
Brethren….” Bro Abayomi had had it up to here, why now,eh?! He knew Bro.
Chidike would be chief perspire in the house. Chidike was or maybe
thought he was an answer to Sis Dikachi’s every sweet-tooth prayers, his
efforts were never rewarded even. Imagine a brother showing family love
to all them gluttony sisters.<br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Bayo
wished Mama would just go meet each debtor and quit shattering the hot
afternoon peace with her sing-song voice. It’s called HOPE! You know
BROTHERLY HOPE nah? You’ll be showing plenty love where dem no send you
work, hoping that one of your nets would catch sisterly fish. Your time
started tomorrow… Chidike was distraught, why now of all months was
monthly subscription being announced like this? Shey service go soon end
so all this insults go stop.<br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Mama
herself dey there the claim saint, she dey subscribe? She know wetin
subscription dey cost? Nah God go forgive every sister wey no gree leave
meat pie and zobo! He left the room, intention was to take a walk to
clear his head and forget the Change Government and the ridicule of
being a part cause of the megaphone noise.<br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
To
think it was his first indebtedness, he was going to make it his last
nonetheless. “Awww, Chi Dyke, have I seen you today? Sure you went to
your PPA? Chi Dyke come and buy meat pie for me now?” Dikachi had been
at the verge of paying for the steaming meat pie before he came along,
she quickly asked Welfo to add a second and a bottle of Zobo. “HIRE
PURCHASE the minimart sef!!!” that was all he could do to stop from
using the “OLEBRUKU!” or its synonyms that had instantly filled his head
at such supersonic speed.<br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Some sisters really needed more JESUS! He didn’t even indulge her a glance as he stormed off. Better to flee temptation! </div>
Ihuoma Chidirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16859893465767162396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-54003831627255682282016-10-30T15:34:00.003+01:002016-10-30T16:02:31.611+01:00I want more: More of what?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigG65H6ZT9niKqNI78u_hNzZvU94hX1im-AWlYEAT1ITr8Ha6gjUex58s2OtEsDc8Dmln2gIJ_VW-n_p23wGDK2vb6kOM2mCQYlBl4KUsFG0QjkTJrdqMy0q_uGu9TPaTXg7NWr8HEVmM/s1600/more.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="More of what?" border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigG65H6ZT9niKqNI78u_hNzZvU94hX1im-AWlYEAT1ITr8Ha6gjUex58s2OtEsDc8Dmln2gIJ_VW-n_p23wGDK2vb6kOM2mCQYlBl4KUsFG0QjkTJrdqMy0q_uGu9TPaTXg7NWr8HEVmM/s320/more.JPG" title="" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I live in a very materialistic and capitalistic country, where money or the lack of it, is a perennial problem for people, including a vast majority of Christians. Unfortunately since it is America, this idea has spread to other countries of the world. After all people from other countries come over here to seek the “American Dream”. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It’s so easy to buy into its idea that more money and material wealth will bring us happiness. It promotes the elusive fantasy that more things bring happiness, and that just a little more than what one has right now will be enough. Because of this, companies prey on our human psychology by giving us credit cards to spend more money than we actually earn, and we are hooked into it. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
How sad! </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If you tune in to the news lately you will hear of the financial decisions that a major financial institution (Wells Fargo) got itself into, and it is backfiring on its leadership and employees; this is all evidence of this idea of wanting more. We often feel a hunger and emptiness that drive us. We want to fill it with more: more money, more food, and more fleshy love. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
However, trying to fill these desires which is a hole, is futile. Edward, in C. S. Lewis’ The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, could never be satisfied with enough Turkish taffy. He always wanted more. Likewise, we think more will satisfy us. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We feel deprived when we don't have it, we ache, and we constantly fret for more. I have encountered some ladies who even become severely depressed, feeling caught in a black hole of emptiness, simply because they want more than they have, including skinny body like mine (sorry, mine is gene from heaven, not the one given by deliberately starving yourself in the quest for external beauty, lol). </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Friend, “enough” never comes, unless we confront the lie itself. The Bible calls this “<b>greediness</b>” in Ephesians 4:19 when it says, </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>“Who being past feeling have given themselves over unto lasciviousness, to work all uncleanness with greediness”</b></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This longing for more is the earthly symptom of incompleteness and sin that we live in. Hmmm, brothers and sisters, it’s a frame of mind more than a circumstance. The desire for more should be a universal hunger for heaven, a longing for the only One who can truly fill us – God Himself. We can be satisfied, fulfilled, and content with Christ. I wish we can shun this other hunger for only material things and focus on the everlasting. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Don’t get me wrong, genuine financial or physical material problems are difficult, but we must seek them in the right way, without allowing discontentment and greediness. Our discontentment often comes when we make comparisons and when we envy other people even when we clearly see that they are not acquiring such wealth with clean hands. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Imagine ministers of the gospel comparing and competing with the wealthy people in their congregations. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Hi ministers: with all due respect to you and your ministry, I thought you are to follow a sacrificial call into the ministry. Sorry, if you are not happy about your call, then take that feeling to God instead of engaging in money making in the church that you are in charge of.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
John Stuart Mill said, “I have learned to seek my happiness not by trying to fulfill all my desires but by limiting them.” What a better idea! Friend, you need to train your appetites, not be driven by them. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yes so many things we cannot afford surround us, but limiting your expansive desires and interests can lead to peace. Joseph Novello, in his book The Myth of More, says, “I desire to want what I have and not want what I do not have.” Think about that. Together, let's begin to challenge the myth that more makes us happy. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Practically speaking, there is peace in simplicity. Personally I don’t like going about buying too many fancy purses and wrist watches, as I replied to a friend who once asked me the surprising question as to why I'm always carrying the same purse for so long, then later she found out that one of my only four purses is enough to buy all her 32 purses together with her 102 pairs of shoes. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
At that point, she was humbled and resolved that life is not just about more things, but quality…of course I say this not to brag about the quality of the few material possessions I have, but to point out that a few nice-looking outfits are better than a stuffed closet the world is getting you to get entangled with. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The bulging closet brings the stress of choosing what to wear, what fits, what matches, and what to wear occasionally to justify buying it in the first place. It may take a little humility, but is pride worth the price?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Jesus said He neither had a home nor bed of His own. He lived a simple life. People mattered to Him, as did doing the will of His Father in heaven. Satan tempted Him in the wilderness with the myth of more. Satan promised, “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will bow down and worship me” (Matthew 4:9). </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ironically, as with all of Satan’s lies, Jesus would not have gained more, He would have lost everything. It is a blessing to have enough money to live without fear. Yet, we need to be wise and discerning about what we need and what we chase after to gain happiness. Jesus spoke to this issue when He challenged us to build up heavenly treasure that will not be destroyed by moth or rust. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Friend, you and I need God’s help on a daily basis, but you cannot get His help without a walking relationship with Him. Jesus is standing at the door calling you away from your current state of life, so that you can walk with Him. You cannot say no, and this is not a time to play church or religion games. He wants to save you, so confess your sins today and repent of them completely. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I advice you to look for a bible based church and fellowship with believers. May God receive you as you come now, so that you can escape the wrath of God that is to come upon those who refuse to yield to His call. Amen. I am also praying for you. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Bible References:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I Timothy 6:10:</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>“For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows.”</b></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Proverbs 28:25:</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>“He that is of a proud heart stirreth up strife: but he that putteth his trust in the LORD shall be made fat.</b></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I Timothy 6:9: </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>“But they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and [into] many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition.”</b></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Luke 12:15: </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>“And he said unto them, Take heed, and beware of covetousness: for a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth.”</b></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Matthew 6:24: </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>“No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.”</b></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Proverbs 15:27:</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>“He that is greedy of gain troubleth his own house; but he that hateth gifts shall live.”</b></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>*Written by <b>Mrs. Rabi E. </b></i><br />
<i>*Shared by <b>Koinonite</b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Photo credit: youtube.com </i></span> </div>
Koinonitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569499385617241022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-75834681775045871502016-10-28T10:03:00.001+01:002016-10-29T10:56:05.993+01:00Stop grabing me<div style="text-align: justify;">
Guys dear, these ladies are tired! You don't earn respect by grabbing their arm on the road and saying "baby I'm greeting..." Ehn?! Is replying by force?! Ok what should be the reply? "Bobo, I'm replying"?!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Puh-lease!!! A courteous, "hello", "hi there", "goodevening", "goodmorning", "welcome" and etc wouldn't be asking much. I mean you're the ones in dire need of cognizance, so please earn respect and the much sought cognizance.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You wonna know how we tell the real deal? They respectfully say hello and let it pass. No sense-filled lady would ever NOT reply a respectfull "hello", trust me.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It ain't working! (Not as if it ever worked anyway). "Baby I'm greeting" and arm-grabbing aint working!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
How do you expect Bola to smile and return a 'baby-greeting' when your sweaty fingers' jabbing her innocent flesh? Abeg ni, I am tired unbehalf of the sisters!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Calling us bitches won't solve this, it damn won't stop the almost hate-filled-teeth-clenched "take your hands off me!" even if you fine pass Donald Duke!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We need you to respect yourselves! Since it's obvious you lost any for us.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Or allow dem ladies grab your arm and see just how good 'patterned nails' are to the masculine flesh.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Please ni!</div>
Ihuoma Chidirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16859893465767162396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-46967682801605303772016-10-25T15:18:00.000+01:002016-10-30T15:00:26.343+01:00Fleksy + GIF + Emoji keyboard<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ever heard of Fleksy? It's an Android keyboard that was released some years back but has made a come-back with lots of cool features. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpQqNR3AeG0_yYVB-vkPQQDllbvBYkvqEP1Ogv6K8Pmc704pHIPhOf1TxALpqS13E35ZuBow5hqYGdzWm05msiDhy65Qxv0UT69-0V1CgUErSRFk2DySiSorK7EU8E1jtOonV0v_0g9MU/s1600/Fleksy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Fleksy keyboard" border="0" height="117" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpQqNR3AeG0_yYVB-vkPQQDllbvBYkvqEP1Ogv6K8Pmc704pHIPhOf1TxALpqS13E35ZuBow5hqYGdzWm05msiDhy65Qxv0UT69-0V1CgUErSRFk2DySiSorK7EU8E1jtOonV0v_0g9MU/s320/Fleksy.JPG" title="" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If you are a GIF freak or you love emojis, you should go for this. Go on Play store, search for Flexsy and install.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Once you are done, open the keyboard app in order to activate the keyboard. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cq9ZfJsuOYBLqWqQizp9rhTgv2b6cgoTL3Z9WCmuqbmU1eVsDnWKPsukJEppqezxD3lX5VAwq3mkNpjss6D-OfIlN9cn7aylz5yxLoKBJed7XEtneW-fyV_zEHDVxQFoJFBVICegG1I/s1600/Screenshot_2016-10-24-06-45-44.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Fleksy keyboard" border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhoti6K7yxTc_vi-gxgwRGV-LUhkliqA2vhYM6WLTimBnwBuQD73fjZ1nDd5q2w9n0_6sV5tH3XSrri4XU1Lz-2pr01-SkTRgNHsoL8ocLvf0E2cX-cuq6RAyDCOShVFIkf82d0PvmZsc/s200/Screenshot_2016-10-24-06-45-58.png" title="" width="112" /><img alt="Fleksy keyboard" border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cq9ZfJsuOYBLqWqQizp9rhTgv2b6cgoTL3Z9WCmuqbmU1eVsDnWKPsukJEppqezxD3lX5VAwq3mkNpjss6D-OfIlN9cn7aylz5yxLoKBJed7XEtneW-fyV_zEHDVxQFoJFBVICegG1I/s200/Screenshot_2016-10-24-06-45-44.png" title="" width="112" /></a>If you are like me who hates keyboard typing sounds or the prediction and suggestions, you can turn it off by opening the settings to change that. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Choose your theme to give a background to your keyboard. I love the chameleon theme because it changes the background to suit the color of any application am on.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I tried out the emojis and GIF. It's really cool. I couldn't resist the temptation of sharing at least one GIF here. I like this one. #THEBOSSBABY power nap!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://media.tenor.co/images/106be485b9ba38b88e84ada364cc4e91/tenor.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://media.tenor.co/images/106be485b9ba38b88e84ada364cc4e91/tenor.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Cheers.</div>
Koinonitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569499385617241022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-30012456376506518842016-10-24T15:04:00.005+01:002016-10-24T15:04:36.923+01:00Family Ouse 6<div class="_5pbx userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="js_3" style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC0FWJJkaqphZSmduj94UNUVTh3I4OcZi8dB1XG7Av4e_8kk0e0vXlny6qeizC4mr8s5pa-4nuCevpmSGvZrdXAbVsPSkaSJx5OqCiBx-PGfJ1lUAlU4lauZJ3HkPtzNDg77mURUTzrWU/s1600/Family+house.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Family Ouse" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC0FWJJkaqphZSmduj94UNUVTh3I4OcZi8dB1XG7Av4e_8kk0e0vXlny6qeizC4mr8s5pa-4nuCevpmSGvZrdXAbVsPSkaSJx5OqCiBx-PGfJ1lUAlU4lauZJ3HkPtzNDg77mURUTzrWU/s1600/Family+house.JPG" title="" /></a></div>
<b><i>Previously on Family Ouse 5...</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
...Bayo bobo. That was Nenye’s pet name for our brother. She’ud
ask Chizzy intentionally, always off the topic in discuss, “You see Bayo
bobo for retreat this week?”...<br />
“So you went to retreat to find missing brothers?”...<br />
<br />
...Family Ouse birthday; dress up, be
sang for, be ohhed and ahhed about, your nice deeds bared before willing
and unwilling ears, etc and more etc. ...Bayo introduced his best
friend, all the way from Awka to mark this beautiful day, his
dark-complexioned pretty fiancé, Yemitokpe Afolabi. <a href="http://uskoinonia.blogspot.com/2016/10/family-ouse-5_77.html" target="_blank">Click to read full story...</a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>Family Ouse 6 continues...</i></b></div>
<br />
The ouse had been dull for a while, nothing happening, same routine
every day, wake by 4.30am for devotion, brethren speak in tongues while
still in dream land, devotion co-ordinators OVERDOSED in the spirit,
raps up devotion almost several minutes after the slated 5.30am for end
of devotion.<br />
<br />
Chizzy complaining often about “all these unnecessary
OVER ZEAL that’s not even genuine, ehn, NOT EVEN sincere, just to
impress!”<br />
<br />
Ada muttering, “so somebody cannot be in the Spirit in
morning devotion?!” deliberately not directing her unsolicited response
at Chizzy, knowing the former’s anger is justified where ouse meetings,
esp. morning devotions, are concerned.<br />
<br />
See, Brethren cannot come
and be in the Spirit alone every time and be dragging meetings 40, 56,
65, 73, and etc minutes later than scheduled time for such meetings.
Anybody who has a thing for SPIRIT DWELLING should use his/her personal
quiet time to build ESTATES in the spirit and fill such with ROOMSis so
they can DWELL FOREVER. It was now an unwelcome, VERY UNWELCOME hallmark
of the ouse meetings, one could never be done from meetings on time,
it’s always, “…we sincerely apologize for taking our time, it’s not in
our hands or our desire to stay this long….”<br />
<br />
“Biko who’s desire is
it?!” Chizzy always eyeballed none-in-particular at that, why do
brethren take advantage of themselves? Eh?!<br />
<br />
So nothing spectacular
had happened for a while now, just brethren being brethren and the new
bro Abana being or trying to be a brethren. Speaking of which, bro Abana
had come to the house recently from one of the local governments for a
course in the state capital and being a Jesus’ Corper, he naturally
stayed in the ouse.<br />
<br />
The brother’s ‘problem’ was the PLENRY IGBO in his
mouth, the accent was heavy! Not that twas an ish or t’would have been
any body’s ish o, but the brother ENJOYED talking, mmn mmn, he LUHVES
(lil bro’s word for excess love) contributing; bible study o, prayer
meetings o, bible study unit meetings o, just gather the brethren and
start talking and the brother’s hand automatically goes UP! Indicating
that DESIRE to talk, English-in-Igbo kwa.<br />
<br />
Two bible studies ago, he
and bro Uboho had set the meeting ablaze, or rather, the trio ablaze, at
least the trio had been genuine enough to laugh that loud or maybe
rather their inability to keep so much body racking laughter to
themselves had earned them Papa’s stern look. <br />
The topic had been,
“Modeling Christ as Jesus Corpers” and somehow, as expected, the issue
of dressing lingered, courtesy of bros Abana and Uboho.<br />
<br />
“…Add diz
to dah former one I tohk eh-lia, sisters here donh lyke to we-eh shord
shord sked, no, not ifen the smo sisters, na women in dese world dah
lyke to we-eh shord shord sked! And brodas dey suffah all diz tin o, eh?
You dohn tish the wrong person the right somtin, you carry tish the
right person the right tin, so I dohn like it wen broDA Ubana (Abana)
tohk dad sisters like shord shord sked, awa sisters here haf try had to
wear long sked, so donh come and tok dy dat, pls, eh, mbok. Ifen bible
haf tohk dad we shud be en-ko-reshing one anoda, no be so?! See, Wen I
was in uni-veh-ity….”<br />
<br />
Chizzy’s insides were erupting, bro Uboho and
his off point contributions plus his Calabar-English eh, to imagine all
he’d been trying to do was rebuke bro Abana for saying sisters loved
wearing short skirts, Abana abi Ubana, should rather know that the
wearers of the forbidden skirt length were worldly women and brothers in
church suffered the immoral dress sense more and that even the bible
said brethren should encourage one another, so ouse sisters should
rather be commended and blabla…<br />
<br />
Abana stood up! Stood and told the
brethren to pleasi helpu him andi explainu to bloda Uboko (Uboho) that
sinu was firstu completed in the hat of manu before it is fruitilizedu
and thati a sister isu wear longi sketu dosu notu mean thati she is notu
going about nakedu in ha hat. Thati, they mustu stopi disi kind of
blin-ded-nessu in chlisty-ten-dom, maka na Jesus abiaro onwu ewu na
okuku (literally: because Jesus did not come to die the death of goats
and fowls), onwu ya diri ya penfulu (His death was painful for Him)...<br />
<br />
Even Tc busted then, Papa didn’t see her though because she had been
directly behind Chizzy who was clapsing her mouth and yet failing to
stifle the throaty guffaw that threatened to STOPU bro Abana’s
contributionu!<br />
<br />
Remember: An in-depth knowledge of God’s word changes everything, EVERYTHING. The
letter killeth, but the Spirit giveth life. The entrance of His word
bringeth life and understanding to the simple heart! Dwell in His word,
DWELL…!</div>
Ihuoma Chidirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16859893465767162396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-25793064756123674072016-10-23T14:32:00.002+01:002016-10-23T22:07:34.294+01:00My class speech 2002<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOrrZYG_zuyiqu_vmmK5PaNX5IBwaKybAFuSLlTH1VgrZcrmQKisPqV8a9H3lUVcKEWTSvcf5tcqZrwIq2C2nZ1sEdAgqfg0wO2WbZRhN8GoyQn3AVteRlsv9INAbKk59MyJi5RDfQ15k/s1600/speech.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOrrZYG_zuyiqu_vmmK5PaNX5IBwaKybAFuSLlTH1VgrZcrmQKisPqV8a9H3lUVcKEWTSvcf5tcqZrwIq2C2nZ1sEdAgqfg0wO2WbZRhN8GoyQn3AVteRlsv9INAbKk59MyJi5RDfQ15k/s320/speech.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
I just recalled a speech my class rendered during one of our morning assembly back in Primary 5. That was year 2002. That I still recall this is amazing.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Topic:<b> Everything we do, comes back to us</b>:</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i>The universe goes to unlimited trouble to provide us with experiences needed to understand the world. Our task in this life is to discover the source of truth. The world is a gigantic school and we are its students.</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i>Delusion is ignorance. Ignorance means lack of knowledge. The school of life corrects that ignorance. The simpler lessons teaches us on walking, running, playing games. There are subtler lessons. The thought we have in mind runs, our lives. </i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i>Everything we do, comes back to us. </i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i>If we understand the world, we will enjoy living. To attain such understanding, we must go on to watch our attitude in this life with others.</i></b></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Thanks.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Do you recall anything of sort from your Primary school days?<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Photo credit: viewsfromthewhiteboard.edublogs.org</i></span> </div>
Koinonitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569499385617241022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-73896381750678449142016-10-22T09:03:00.003+01:002016-10-22T09:04:33.755+01:00The small dare not be humble<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRPP6j99rW-kP8LSCJMw1_m1HFVYonAtuaT89HOcYTpdT-OQLsWCzw182_qDM5sJd9JRTG0kUSvJ3cnxgupWYAxZ3d648fVn8hUzg_KgxL44bVflSSqPnpvHA1Pvf5afSMGCtYINkeFUg/s1600/humility.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRPP6j99rW-kP8LSCJMw1_m1HFVYonAtuaT89HOcYTpdT-OQLsWCzw182_qDM5sJd9JRTG0kUSvJ3cnxgupWYAxZ3d648fVn8hUzg_KgxL44bVflSSqPnpvHA1Pvf5afSMGCtYINkeFUg/s320/humility.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span id="goog_575133429"></span><span id="goog_575133430"></span>If you have been following this devotional, "Everyday with Jesus" you will know that we've been discussing about the fruits of the Holy Spirit. We are currently on the fruit "<b>Gentleness</b>" which can also be called <b>Humility </b>or<b> </b><b>Meekness</b>.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Today we read John 13:1-15, Numbers 12:1-11 and Exodus 18:13-16.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
John 13:3,5 says: </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power... he poured water... and began to wash his disciples' feet.</i></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Commentary from Everyday with Jesus</b>:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This passage of Scriptures have long been one of my favorite sections of the New testament. It was the consciousness of His standing in the Father that enabled His humility. The small dare not be humble. Let me explain what I mean by "standing". Jesus's standing was rooted in God. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Being in God made Him great and humble. Great because he is humble-humble because He is great. A Hindu remarked to a missionary, </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I used to believe in idols but now I don't believe in them at all. I'm coming round to the belief that I myself am a god." </div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
He gave up the idols and made one of himself!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When we lose sight of God, we loose sight of humility. It is as simple as that: no true vision of God, no true vision of humility. Humility is not a cringing, servile attitude, although, sadly many Christians seem to view it in this way. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Phillips Brooks, a nineteenth-century American preacher, once said, </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"The true way to be humble is not to stoop until you are smaller than yourself, but to stand at your real height against some higher nature that will show you what the real smallness of your greatness is. Stand at your highest and then look at Christ, then go away and forever be humble." </div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The truly humble are conscious of His greatness before they are conscious of their own humility.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Questions</b>: </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
1. Contrast Miriam and Aaron's attitudes with that of Moses.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
2. How could Moses be humble yet lead and judge a nation?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>My contribution</b>:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I would liken Jesus' standing with God and that of our relationships here on earth. When you are fully aware that your earthly father is wealthy, you do not come out openly to declare it. You are completely satisfied and contented with yourself cause you are confident in your father's status. You would simply walk into a room and be calm even when no one recognizes your presence. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
On the other hand, people who really have nothing with no esteem, make the loudest noise wanting you to know they have it all, whereas they are suffering. They are constantly afraid of being exposed and therefore try to dominate others in public.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Jesus knew His standing and wasn't afraid that he will be looked down on by His disciples when he stooped to wash their feet. He had nothing to loose and everything to gain. He taught us how to treat each other; considering each other better than ourselves.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Mirian spoke against Moses because of his Cushite wife. She probably started having issues with the woman and she resorted to speaking against her brother. She must have thought to herself that Moses was the younger one and didn't have the right to hear from God alone. She had developed pride with time, in the context that Moses owed her his life. Even to the point that when the Lord's presence departed and she became leprous, she still could not bring herself to cry out for mercy. Aaron was the one who cried out and called to Moses.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We are called to recognize God's greatness and that He is our Father. It is in this knowledge that humility/gentleness flows from us without physical effort to make ourselves look humble. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
May the Lord help us.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Prayer</b>: Lord God, in my effort to understand humility, please, help me always to remember that it springs from a consciousness of greatness. And may my sense of greatness be rooted in You, in Jesus' name. Amen.</div>
Koinonitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569499385617241022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-52797361335887959712016-10-19T20:07:00.001+01:002016-10-21T05:28:28.359+01:00My 80 year old Grandmother and what the Internet is<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYQ0JxPgbJkzyvk9s1bdokJYiD6ug4L41EPJR53VLi-FZemE_9afrOpINXeq-ouKm3J0-cyjXrrhirfqhPhL4Vj_KcT8ISZJzIqZ9xFZVYANM17jTflq3ptuKuntg9WkMFv3gtvFZ_Bg/s1600/Internet.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYQ0JxPgbJkzyvk9s1bdokJYiD6ug4L41EPJR53VLi-FZemE_9afrOpINXeq-ouKm3J0-cyjXrrhirfqhPhL4Vj_KcT8ISZJzIqZ9xFZVYANM17jTflq3ptuKuntg9WkMFv3gtvFZ_Bg/s320/Internet.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The mind of an elderly person is quite simple, yet complicated and difficult to understand. My 80 year old grandmother once saw me browsing and requested to know what the Internet is all about. Explaining what the internet meant felt like a herculean task until I thought of this simple context.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Mama, think of the (<b>Internet</b>) as an empty large mass of land that has been in existence and one day someone discovers that land, and builds a fence around it. Interested persons needed access to the land and the only key to unlock and get into this land was called the <b>Computer</b>. The first persons to arrive on the land bought plots by the entrance. These plots were called <b>sites/websites</b>.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Some of these persons include <b>Google</b>, <b>Bing</b> and other <b>Hosting Domains</b>. Persons like <b>Google</b> opened a lot of activities on their on plot of land(<b>websites</b>). <b>Hosting Domains</b> acquired more lands than they needed with the purpose of selling it out to buyers with profit. As more persons came in and bought more lands, there was need to categorize the purpose of each <b>site</b> that was bought and created. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Some bought the <b>sites</b> and opened up clothes stores, equipment, cooking appliances, computer accessories. Others used theirs to give out information, news, politics and state of the nation, while others used theirs for interactive sessions, entertainment, food and all that. There were similar land purposes as more plots were acquired. This is called <b>niche</b>. This is were <b>Google</b> and the likes come in and created a documentary listing every land-use (<b>niche</b>). Everyone who purchases a plot from the Hosting Domain has his or her land listed on <b>Google</b> and the likes.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As people moved in further to buy more plots, it became disadvantageous for persons who had their plots deep inside. It seemed easier to conduct any transactions with plots who where at the entrance gate. <b>Google</b> had that advantage. Persons who had their plots deep inside and needed to convince people to come to their <b>sites</b> began paying <b>Google</b> to tell their visitors that they exist. This made <b>Google</b> introduce what we now call <b>Google Adsense</b>. As <b>Adsense</b> grew, <b>Google</b> could no longer handle all the ads request coming to it and needed other sites to partake as long as they share the profit. Some sites became just like <b>Google</b>, they are called <b>Search engines</b>.<br />
<br />
When you go on the <b>Internet</b> and ask any of these <b>Search engines</b> like <b>Google</b>, a question about something, they give you a list of sites where you can go and get a detailed answer to your question.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So Mama, that, in a nutshell, is what the Internet is all about.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Over to you. How would you explain the Internet to your grandmother?</div>
Koinonitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569499385617241022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-90269746413746367842016-10-19T13:32:00.003+01:002016-10-30T16:00:29.133+01:0010 things that struck me about her<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit-ym25qepLMFVtIG1PrePSsSsUBnVlUy1itmEwlomA6OfmBCuYd0rbOzOuTz844tkiUrw1dqE1PbB14tACgCyrOCQiHpkjfVGuug0PD5bM3BhNbPvdo-D5U80G8AwPad6oSQELcG-3Qs/s1600/IMG_20161010_163817_390.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit-ym25qepLMFVtIG1PrePSsSsUBnVlUy1itmEwlomA6OfmBCuYd0rbOzOuTz844tkiUrw1dqE1PbB14tACgCyrOCQiHpkjfVGuug0PD5bM3BhNbPvdo-D5U80G8AwPad6oSQELcG-3Qs/s320/IMG_20161010_163817_390.JPG" width="192" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Okay,
it was in Law School I met her and at first glance I wondered, "Who is
this deep spiritual sister?" Nna the way she contributed in Bible Study e
be like say Jesus dey dictate am for am. Me I no just come like that
kain tin.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then
we both happened to be in the choir and I really got to know her and we
then became friends and then these things started striking me;</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
1)
Her voice is so strong and carries God's presence so easily. There is
something there that she hasn't quite developed to the fullest. Its
amazing!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
2) Her Spirit, Kai! Ihuoma is one sincere lady. She loves God and no be forming and if she loves you she no go form.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
3)
Her heart, I watched her murder Igbo language while tutoring children
at the orphanage we visited and shame just dey catch me, but beyond the
bloody murder I was amazed watching the display of true charity...the
way God planned it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
4)
Her Humour, Ihuoma is funny eeeh! Chineke! I was shocked to find out
that all the deepness I thought I saw na just facade. The lady is an
easy going, fun loving, very funny individual. In fact, she is a konki!
Veeeery silly in fact...no apologies.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
5)
Her Pen, Ihuoma is by far one one of the best writers I have ever read
and she does it with her effortless humour and a powerful command of
English....and pidgin and outright Nzuzu.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
6)
Her Work rate, Okay Law school was crazy right? I have a confession. Na
this babe make me begin go night class. I mean I escort her come Law
school?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
7)
Her Sleepy headedness, Lol...I have another confession to make; at
those night classes she slept half the night, them will carry her books
and go to hostel looking serious.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
8)
Her Smartness in spite of the odds, Her resolve is an inspiration.
Always was and always will be. She is a definition of one who beat the
odds to become a barrister. I applaud it! And she just keeps that smile
on and never looses that humour I like.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
9) Her Humility, Ihuoma wants to learn and grow and she will bend down and seek counsel and prayers. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
10) She is fine somehow shaa.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>*Written by</i> <b><i>Chidike Samuelson </i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><b>*</b>Shared by <b>Koinonite</b></i></span></div>
Koinonitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569499385617241022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-42886421838050046292016-10-18T15:22:00.003+01:002016-10-18T15:22:34.823+01:00We Should Marry Military Officers...<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWzt7Wo49gWXvO0QVhs8kmnB1mH1QEJ_n5uuqSBgVISlnFAAREE44uASx4FNeKQ2-KIU-L6FSsD0yGXdzSEezJaj0N8bjX5pDpCJftDEENEDQCOheglUpy-OlV_46gtJ8RLwaZAlEjrwg/s1600/m.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWzt7Wo49gWXvO0QVhs8kmnB1mH1QEJ_n5uuqSBgVISlnFAAREE44uASx4FNeKQ2-KIU-L6FSsD0yGXdzSEezJaj0N8bjX5pDpCJftDEENEDQCOheglUpy-OlV_46gtJ8RLwaZAlEjrwg/s1600/m.JPG" /></a></div>
She said she'd been enjoying the after-court office nap when the docility-clad man walked in and said, loyalty dropping over the on-the-surface-innocence report,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
"Madam is like someone bring down your glass."<br />
<br />
Somewhere in the office too, was this young one who was just stirring from a nap and before both could fully comprehend the import of what was being said, they were on their feet and springing down those calloused steps.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
As they sped down, she (the younger of the two) wondered what was even happening, gbedu all this running down in partial ignorance of what had actually been said. When they reached the car, the DAmage stared the learned females in the face. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
The driver's side mirror had been smashed, detached and placed on the bonnet. It bore something of a petinence, typical of Mario Puzzo's Sicilian tales. Something kinda Mafiaso! Don't mind this please, a little stay with the 'Don Series' leaves you thinking such nonsense. But the thing damage o.<br />
<br />
The young one just gaped at the harm done, what could she really say, though 'courtesy' expected her to say something, at least in consolation to the very nice 'Victim', so called. <br />
Courtesy can feel like It knows it all eh.<br />
<br />
Everything played out pretty fast after that. Madam went up to them VIOs in that fashionable pregnant-lawyer thickness and in a very clear accented funeh asked for "...the owner of this bike!"<br />
<br />
No show! The question was repeated and then lazily re-asked by the officers who were begining to enjoy the show. Suddenly, Madam had one of the Loyals; infact the very man who'd brought the complaint and had followed the crew (the Young one and Madam) up to the IVO patrol team a few kilometres from the damaged car; wheel the bike away and defiantly told dem officers to ask whoever owned the bike to come get it from NASME barracks.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
The officers, abi their oga, now come and be shouting, "Hey you, heys, hey you, bring that bike back now!" <br />
<br />
Oga, you be LEARNER?!!!!! All the while they were blowing queen's grammar, he had been nonchallantly leafing through some damn papers, then all of a sudden, 'hey you' became a somebody's Madam's name, you be learner, no vex!<br />
<br />
The loyals no even gree hear again, they excitedly wheeled the bike to a make-shift parklot in front of their office and bingo, the oga landed and began to parra, shouting and tearing eye anyhow.<br />
<br />
Madam come TEAR bigger eye and oga now try to tear bigger one, but the thing come and begin to pain the Madam, so she just commot phone and call her Army husband! <br />
<br />
If only that Oga was wiser, they'ud have spared the highway congregation the frog jump entertainment that grazed the afternoon for everyone. <br />
<br />
***************<br />
<br />
After thinking these out, I smile and think still, maybe we should all Marry Military Officers. O! How those unruly Policemen & Co would flank our roads hopping and holding their ears simultaneously. But alas, '...their reward is in heaven'. (I pray o!)<br />
<br />
*Shuts the big book and picks up the form for Military Husbands then suddenly remembers...*<br />
<br />
"....Vengance is Mine, says the Lord, I will repay!"<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Photo credit: spousebuzz.com </i></span></div>
Ihuoma Chidirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16859893465767162396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-89215633852542227892016-10-17T19:36:00.002+01:002016-10-17T19:36:28.804+01:00The Things I here from my window (2)<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1i9dLRTJJZcEi1uPNPTFp1ymOX2UNCcvkgnb-qZStUYAhMOSik8KYjOwrdJT9vSK3Vih1fXA99UTlyWxpKWfAmu3FVhHf83n6vB829skaA66CW6gHu80alng2f8VYgte5XUkHzCLG5Mo/s1600/Win.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1i9dLRTJJZcEi1uPNPTFp1ymOX2UNCcvkgnb-qZStUYAhMOSik8KYjOwrdJT9vSK3Vih1fXA99UTlyWxpKWfAmu3FVhHf83n6vB829skaA66CW6gHu80alng2f8VYgte5XUkHzCLG5Mo/s320/Win.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Ma kid bro had a lil difficulty pronouncing 'advertisement' back then, so he effortlessly made do with the word as 'abatyzment'. That's a tale for the summers anyway. <br />
<br />
Was gonna say, this our ndi herbal, herbal-drug abatyzers, have taken 'discretion' off our typical African society ni!<br />
Believe me, they make Hot-sun experience an extremely hilarious one.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
My worry though, previously they cured; HIV, Staph, Diabetes, Appendix (Holding her sides), Mouth Odour, Purging Belle (worefa that is), erm..., even Convulsion and Leprosy!<br />
Contemporarily, they cure SOLELY sexual malfuntion!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
From mah window that day I'd heard the usual<br />
<br />
"...ma nwoke ike na agwu osiso, le ogwu gi eba! Daddy, Mummy, Oncu, Anty, Boyfren, gyafren come see dis wonu..." <br />
*The business accent wasn't missed*<br />
<br />
Their van was steadily approaching, all sort of unprintable 'adverts' renting the Hot noon sun and shattering the teachers' mild scream of 'Oh Roja is dead'. The innocent kids had excitedly been repeating the badly taught Old Rogger, little notice of ndi Herbal. The teacher's voice suddenly pitched to a shrieking high, propelling my reflex stopping of both ears and cringing from nothing in particular. <br />
<br />
"Is she crazy?!" I asked no one still.<br />
"Does she think her bell voice is Nightanglish?!" <br />
I felt frustrated. Drat!<br />
<br />
My emotions trippled as she maintained the kill-pitch with resilient effort, the strain on the voice sure would make every possible Romeo UNLOVE singing Teacher Juliet.<br />
<br />
While the qwi-qwi pitch held with vigour, ndi herbal drew closer, 'advert' louder still. I was torn between maintaining my unsolicited anger at Teacher kill-Pitch and holding my sides from splitting, courtesy of ndi herbal. <br />
<br />
"...were oso bia were ya, ana akpo nkahu ibi, ibi na nwoke bu..."<br />
(literally, "...take race and come take it, they call that one Ibi... Ibi is..." (Ibi should be the 'swelling of the scrotal sac'.)<br />
<br />
I carved in, this people were just impossible! <br />
<br />
Teacher Pitch began screaming, just like that! It was now obvious she was trying to drown the 'aru' (abomination) spiling from the 'vulgar' advert (I laff!).<br />
<br />
Imagine a heavily eastern-accented shrill voice pitched against a fully blasting eastern speaker. Ok, don't imagine no more, its unpossible. More like, a miscalculated attempt.<br />
<br />
"...O ROJA GOT UPu..." the scream was almost deafening.<br />
<br />
"O roja got upu..." the poor kids repeated.<br />
<br />
"...AND GAVE HA A KNOCKK.." The 'k' sound was distinct.<br />
<br />
"...and gave ha IBI!", one child hastily repeated, obviously 'corrupted' by ndi herbal. Don't blame him, the 'ibi' rant was being overly emphasized. <br />
<br />
I sat hard on ma bed, couldn't get enough of the laugh, I wished someone could share the priceless moment. <br />
Oh Africa, what wrong have these innocent babes done you?!<br />
<br />
You can't figure how the Teacher probably froze before her pupils. The very thing she had tried to prevent, the very 'corruption' she had feared from those damned speakers had infiltrated her pupil's mind. Next I heard was,<br />
<br />
"I we ki you today! Stupid child! Instead of you to concentlate, you we rada listen to ndi ala ndia! Stupid! Stupid! What do you know, eh? Akwukwo, e maro, obu, obu I..., I.." Each sentence, was puntuated by the sound of wiping.<br />
<br />
"e..., e... what?! Pronounce it nah, wicked woman! Pious ni!" I blurted in defence of the poor child I couldn't see.<br />
<br />
Why punish the poor child for a crime he did not commit? Was it his fault ndi herbal lacked supposed discretion?!<br />
<br />
Dear African Parents, ndi herbal have come to stay, at least until they stop curing solely sexual malfunction and begin curing Ebola, it isn't what your child picks from them that would destroy his/her future, it's how you TRAIN your child in the way he/should grow that would determine what he makes of his environs and the 'voluntary' information at his/her disposal.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Concentrate on training the entire personality of your child, not on hiding them from the world. Don't forget it's the same world they are expected to subdue. Teach them how to subdue, not how to run from subjection. When you have done your training, Teacher Kill-Pitch and the likes, wouldn't have to rip our ear drums, trying to 'protect' your children from ndi herbal.<br />
<br />
We love Nigeria, ndi herbal and all, but We Love better a Nigeria where children are trained at home and garnished in school NOT otherwise.<br />
So dear, train your child in the way he should go for when he is old, he would train his own child too, and..., ndi herbal or not, Our society would still be 'preserved'.<br />
<br />
Still sorry for you, poor child. </div>
Ihuoma Chidirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16859893465767162396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-1190763810035999892016-10-16T17:32:00.000+01:002016-10-23T21:56:11.360+01:00Your appearance speaks volumes<div style="text-align: justify;">
Personally, I also knew I didn't like being in any of their just-loading buses, I mean, waiting for other passengers was such a patience-trying-lull. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When I came initially, the emptiness of the bus didn't give me a second feel, but when after nearly 30 minutes I was still the last person, my frown tightened and believe me, I eyed the elderly-daddy-tout who gave me the you-owe-me-baggage-money reminder look. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"come and collect money na!!!", my defiance stare must have screamed back.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
See transfer of agression o?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
His brown, cigar, all-join stained, one-tooth-less dentition just stayed flashing, very oblivious of my eyeing him.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I prayed eh! Normally, I ask God to send passengers for us anytime I have to make my Ishiagu-home journey and today, kabashing saw wonders. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I askeddd God for 11 passengers, I pleadeddd with God, I commandeddd them to come forth, I releaseddd them from Enugu afternoon trafic, I puttt extra speed in their buses and/or cabs, I even gaveee them money for drop to come forth (hope they got dah one sef).</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I just wanted to be home before dusk. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Four soon joined us and I religiously thanked God for the ones He just sent. Then I edited my prayer, I asked for more than the number left, so we could pick the ones we needed to complete the dead bus, then MOVE!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I returned from where I went to make an inquiry and we were still only seven, I wasn't so desperate o, I just didn't wonna stay abi feel stucked for so long. So I revisited my prayer, I was sure this time I droveee the bus down to the park. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Soon after I 'droped' them, I saw them. Some suspiciously, terribly looking, ex-convictly clad umu-small-boys strode to our bus. Prayer finish for my mouth!!! </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I told God not to bother Himself too much na, He should just allow those 'eleven' I asked for to come when they were ready, after all, I didn't have any demanding obligation at home.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Too late, they entered the bus! Nna, I didn't know I could decern in the spirit. For all it was worth, I was convinced robbers had entered our bus! </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Omo, I'ud travel tommorrow, Ishiagu is not by force! </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
For where?! I was at the extreme left of the last sit and two of them plus one other boy joined me there. I had to restrain myself from preaching in the bus to show them that 'God was in this bus o' whatever their robbery plans. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When we were finally stopped by one mopol man who strangely but wisely wanted to search our bus (abi 'search our boys') I imaginatively put a shotgun in the the knapsack of one of them. I so willed something dangerous be found in their possession that when nothing was found I was too dissapointed to want to continue the journey. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
After we moved off again, they said they were musicians. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Who now asked you?! Aba boys!" I maliciously said to myself, gbedu them scaring us like that. RUBBISH!!!! (forgive my use of the word pls, that's how it felt)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
For bushmeat's sake, what has dreadlock and earings and jewelries got to do with this males and music? Na the look the sing abi the voice? </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Biko, which kyn ex-con look dis one be?! If God had honoured my fear-wishes eh? Those boys would be in one Nigerian prison now, swearing to their ringed-ears they are musicians!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I leave this lesson that revebrated in my mind throughtout yesterday, YOUR APPEARANCE SPEAKS VOLUMES ABOUT YOUR PERSONALITY!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In the world of "sane and responsible", we hear volumes when we see you!!!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
God help us all!!!</div>
Ihuoma Chidirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16859893465767162396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-71441065066608769802016-10-14T06:59:00.001+01:002016-10-15T21:31:20.576+01:00The Giant of Africa Lives On!!!<div style="text-align: justify;">
The heated iron rod seared through the socket that was meant to hold her left eye, the guttural sound that escaped her patched throat was devoid of anything human. She wasn't pleading, would never be reduced to that, her soul only regretted her capture.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When she sneaked out of the clan a forth night ago determined to return with the 'KONTIMBE' egg, she hadn't of course understood why for centuries preceding theirs, the ancestors had rather writhed under the curse that had sent the clan into extinction. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The 'MALUMKWE' clan was dreaded. The story went that even Zemku, the fearless Kizahr, never mentioned their name even when drunk. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"But how could 'MASHANKWU', the clan of the warring lords, just go into extinction because the 'MALUMKWEs' had carried of the 'egg' and cursed them?! At least, somebody should have tried!"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She looted her clan for this! </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"But who was she to voice her thoughts? The 'manless' Wadimbe's daughter, whose love for younger 'Dwualas' had cost her mother countless babies?!"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She wished she mentioned it to Zehmul, the legendry tale bearer. News told him always went round before he even got to the next 'Izhaku'. However they became friends, was not her worry now. The only thing that killed her soul, was not even her left eye that had been seared out, nor her feet that had been boiled in Qwili's poison. The fact that she had been captured and was being turtured to a cruel death infront the 'KONTIMBE' egg killed her twice.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The guttural sound came again, she barely caught the taken-aback reaction of her chief captor as her blood spurted on his 'Iwanda' portion stripped chest. That was all the reaction she needed. She leaped as one possessed by 'Mankhur', the wounded Tigress. Before her captors could fully grasp how one so feminine could survive this long, the 'egg' was in her hand and her sprint was deadly. She ran the race of the soon-departing, the iron rod still fixed in her left eye socket.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She knew she was past the border of the living, but her spirit felt more life than the entire clan had witnessed. As the expert sprinting feet of her captors sounded closer, her feet found gait in her flight. She went completely blind as her 'rodded-eye-socket' spurted and gushed with blackened blood, of course the poison had gotten to her head.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She knew she was close to her clan border, and she had less than two counts to breathe her last, the death arrow of her pursuers had just pierced her neck, she could never outwitt them. Yet she fled on, if her captors knew her soul had crossed the living's border, they would have relented, but as they gave chase, she found strenght.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She suddenly gave a nasal cry so deep and threw the 'egg' across the clan's border, she collapsed onto the earth, oblivious of the egg's destination. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Her chief captor, pulled his 'kwero' sword and cut off her arms. Twas better she died the cruel death still, he heaved, his massive chest beating as the 'Kutum' drums.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
*******</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As the KONTIMBE egg was solemnly cracked open a moon after, and the eagle released into the sky, 'NIMANJE's dying words echoed in the hearts of the MASHANKWU clan, "Our Freedom Now Rests in Our Hands!"<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7YItaMmOPg-XGE1WT-4fg4mKgnX-HjLCazOgMvMTXD7ofcgy2x9ted3Du9IIYFupkDyJ-sMdh3UoXubnyxuLg3_93fJLF_mR98Xm0q6AMd9zxFs20xtVcPgrAf8eIAOHphrbKG8VhzQ/s1600/K+Post+pic.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7YItaMmOPg-XGE1WT-4fg4mKgnX-HjLCazOgMvMTXD7ofcgy2x9ted3Du9IIYFupkDyJ-sMdh3UoXubnyxuLg3_93fJLF_mR98Xm0q6AMd9zxFs20xtVcPgrAf8eIAOHphrbKG8VhzQ/s1600/K+Post+pic.JPG" /></a></div>
</div>
Ihuoma Chidirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16859893465767162396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-19665879744676559632016-10-13T19:44:00.002+01:002016-10-13T19:44:27.351+01:00Try Compassion<div style="text-align: justify;">
Dinachukwu struggled out of the yellow commuter bus, extricating herself from the near glued mass of passengers was quite offensive this sunday morning. She almost hissed at the conductor as she paid her fare,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"foolish pipu, you no longer stop there abi, because nobody was there to pick?!" She spat to herself. Her irritation was not justified she knew, but these bus people could be very annoying.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When the campus' main gate had been closed up for re-construction, an acting-main-gate was opened up some distance before the main gate. But being dropped at the campus gate bus stop, proportionate to the actual maingate, meant you'ud walk some distance back to the improvised gate. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The commuter buses illegally pick up passengers around the improvised, often times obstructing traffic flow in the process, no gratitude to the narrow passage of a road. Thus Dinachukwu was pissed when the driver and his painful conductor said the police would catch them for dropping at the improvised, "...but they'll not catch you for picking there",she sneered to herself still.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She hurried down towards improvised, she was visiting her campus fellowship as an alumni and she had to be there on time, bus madness or not. As she approached the slight bend that led to the wider spanse before the gate itself, she mentally noted how much she had left and satisfied herself that her offering was intact. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Her expression was still taut as she gazed past the legendry beggar who nested on his stick, one foot supporting the stick-cum-high-stool. In recent times, he'd taken to sitting outrightly, maybe his bum needed a break today.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She did what everyone did when walking past, either look away or ignore. Not that she always did that, her avoidance method actually had always been, acknowlegde his greeting then look straight ahead with a light shake of the head to signal, 'not giving today, reasons best known to me'.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Today, she just looked on, no light-head-shake signalling. Giving him some money would really slash her offering abeg, some other no-offering-demanded day pls.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
*****</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Peugeot 607 pulled into the parking lot and Mr. Taiwo came out clutching his large bible. He left the locking up to his wife. He was cordinating prayers and twas already 2 minutes to time. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
He was almost at the door when he remembered, he looked around and his eyes met an ushers', the ushers were rounding off their sunday morning prayers before service kick off. He motioned for her,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Goodmorning sir", she approached, her smile engaging.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Did you see the man at the gate?", his habit of blaming 'you' was not nouveau.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Goodmorning sir, which is...?", she thought he didn't hear the initial greeting.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Go ask the security to get that man away from the gate, this is church, he shouldn't be begging on a sunday, he should be in church!" he ignored her greeting again, his English accent intimidating.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Goodmorning sir, is that man still there?! Thought he went off already", the head usher had just joined them.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Just tell the security to work!", he said almost impatiently, and swirled round, little or no attention paid to the ushers. It was already five minutes past prayers.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Head usher and Ire, the other usher, found the security man by Taiwos' car, it appeared Mrs Taiwo was just finishing a church-is-not-the-street lecture for the appologetic man. They joined the concluding 'lecture', bearing down on the issue as if he had sent the man at the gate a personal invite.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Taiwo's wife even followed him back to the gate to shew the beggar away, the ushers had left to resume duty, the premise was already teaming with worshippers.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"...and this one is so dirty", Mrs Taiwo thought, face contorting with misplaced sympathy. She couldn't imagine why he'ud come to beg in church on a sunday, was it because the market was shut on sundays?!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"no respect or fear for God sef!", she hissed. She met Mrs Uzo at the door, they hugged briefly, ahhing and uhhing at nothing in particular.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
****</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Temitope ran up to the beggar and trust the #20 her mum gave her to give him. They had just alighted from the bike when they saw him being driven away, dirty looking, his tall frame stooped. His left foot was twisted and he looked so much a northerner with his ragged kaftan and his begging bowl. When she trust the money to him, he put forth his bowl to receive it, uttering obsenities she couldn't be bothered with. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Something about his eyes was very intriguing, her young mind knew it was pain and suffering, then it turned very tender when she gave him her biscuit for lack of what else to do for him.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As she ran to catch up with her mum who had reached the gate already, "I died for them child,I did", hit her ears. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She turned to stare, that was no hausa begger, could it be...</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Do the dying see the love of Jesus outside our quintessential church edifice?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Our offerings are useless if '...the least of My brethren' are ignored.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
EVERYONE NEEDS COMPASSION! SHARE GOD'S LOVE!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7YItaMmOPg-XGE1WT-4fg4mKgnX-HjLCazOgMvMTXD7ofcgy2x9ted3Du9IIYFupkDyJ-sMdh3UoXubnyxuLg3_93fJLF_mR98Xm0q6AMd9zxFs20xtVcPgrAf8eIAOHphrbKG8VhzQ/s1600/K+Post+pic.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7YItaMmOPg-XGE1WT-4fg4mKgnX-HjLCazOgMvMTXD7ofcgy2x9ted3Du9IIYFupkDyJ-sMdh3UoXubnyxuLg3_93fJLF_mR98Xm0q6AMd9zxFs20xtVcPgrAf8eIAOHphrbKG8VhzQ/s1600/K+Post+pic.JPG" /></a></div>
</div>
Ihuoma Chidirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16859893465767162396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-4476283086477121662016-10-13T10:14:00.001+01:002016-10-15T17:34:07.082+01:00Family Ouse 5<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i>Previously on Family Ouse 4...</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Just like that?!"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"...robbed of my jwelhry in this gorrddamned office..." Goddamned?!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
That was Monday's bad news though, tuesday had been quite uneventful, save for Nenye making mention of Sunday's episode and how she'd wished she could've laid hands round Bimbo's neck and all those things about pressing out bad blood from a bad belle. <a href="http://uskoinonia.blogspot.com/2016/10/family-ouse-4_10.html" target="_blank">Click to read full story...</a><b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>Family Ouse 5 continues...</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Abayomi was obviously Yoruba, dark as expected, but communicated a whole lot with Ada. Simply say, they struck a good rapport and that was it. Bayo has a thing for VERY spiritually-humour-packed sisters and Ada was ONE in a non-existing few, so it seemed sha.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Well, as their gist grew, Ada’s ideas grew and the house dry-cleaning made more money, and bad belle Sister Bad-blood noticed the CHANGE. Ada’s only luck was that Abimbola did not notice the APC Presidential Candidate, Bayo bobo. That was Nenye’s pet name for our brother. She’ud ask Chizzy intentionally, always off the topic in discuss, “You see Bayo bobo for retreat this week?”Ada would quickly react and either say “So you went to retreat to find missing brothers?”or “Nenye, I don’t understand o, how did dah won enter this matter now?”</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It never bothered her that it was just a ploy to enjoy her re-action or maybe an exaggeration of the re-action. She never disappointed their expectations anyways.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Bayo’s birthday was just the cliché Family Ouse birthday; dress up, be sang for, be ohhed and ahhed about, your nice deeds bared before willing and unwilling ears, etc and more etc. Ada bought the cake, or rather, one of the cakes, did a number with the trio, plus Chizzy, plus Nenye, dressed so pretty and Awwwed and all that. Then Bayo introduced his best friend, all the way from Awka to mark this beautiful day, his dark-complexioned pretty fiancé, Yemitokpe Afolabi.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Ouse was agog, some sisters felt their loss. You know sisters sha like to have hope for any promising brother? Their hope no be here, it can be tiring. They sha felt the loss but managed to scream louder than Ada’s thumping heart. Chizzy wouldn’t look at Ada, she knew Bayo couldn’t be blamed entirely, he’d been nice and too chatty with Ada, which was probably his only crime, the TOO CHATTY, cos he was nice in the sense of nice-nice to everyone. Only Ada enjoyed the chattiness.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Nenye thought differently, gbedu this brother not saying he wasn’t single all these past two weeks, and making somebody to be over-dry-cleaning even Khaki. Not like a sister should not dry-clean or look good o, but when you make effort to feel cooler cos of ‘good rapport’ and your effort now just come and go like that, it is not a nice something. Bayo bobo no try chacha, Nenye wasn’t smiling ATALL!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Only good thing was that only the trio knew about the butterflies, if any, that flew in the certain sister’s tummy. T'was even better that the sworn enemy of the victim was not in the know, t'was a VERY GOOD THING, very good. Bimbo and her village pipu though!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Like we always say folks, the arm of flesh will FAIL you ALWAYS.<br />
</div>
Ihuoma Chidirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16859893465767162396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-13871911515779884212016-10-13T04:53:00.001+01:002016-10-13T04:53:39.570+01:00Bring Back Our Good Old Days<div style="text-align: justify;">
Oh, bring back the days when people stopped by to say something quite nicer than "HBD" on our birthdays.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When we could clearly see the faces on the profile pics without the different colour shades, when it was up to us to ignore stranger-friend-requests without inbox-insults.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Bring back the days when we could say "how do you do" and "okay dear" without the 'Xup' and 'K' messages we never reply to, When we could read meaningfull updates without 'Ebola this and Chibok that.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Oh, days we could also see Tolu's pimples on her 'added photos' and not just in the hostel. Pls bring back the days of sanity when Jude's relationship status went from engaged to married not 'it's complicated'.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Bring back the good ol' days we shared here...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7YItaMmOPg-XGE1WT-4fg4mKgnX-HjLCazOgMvMTXD7ofcgy2x9ted3Du9IIYFupkDyJ-sMdh3UoXubnyxuLg3_93fJLF_mR98Xm0q6AMd9zxFs20xtVcPgrAf8eIAOHphrbKG8VhzQ/s1600/K+Post+pic.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7YItaMmOPg-XGE1WT-4fg4mKgnX-HjLCazOgMvMTXD7ofcgy2x9ted3Du9IIYFupkDyJ-sMdh3UoXubnyxuLg3_93fJLF_mR98Xm0q6AMd9zxFs20xtVcPgrAf8eIAOHphrbKG8VhzQ/s1600/K+Post+pic.JPG" /></a></div>
</div>
Ihuoma Chidirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16859893465767162396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-4196503983390109372016-10-12T09:56:00.001+01:002016-10-12T09:59:43.741+01:00The Lost women<div style="text-align: justify;">
When after doors are locked from behind and lights switched dark, and sheets are pulled up and dream-ride rode, Feminists become 'POOR EXCUSES OF MEN', they would have justified society Male-bias.<br /> That move, 'GENDER-EQUALITY', from the know, has NEVER been advocated rightly. Adichie should have said, "We should all be REALISTS!" <br /><br /> Men were created to be Men and Women, Women. I believe we all have equal rights by virtue of being firstly, HUMANS before our differing genders.<br /> If only Feminists would sieve through feminine sentiments and frustrations and advocate same rights and opportunities for the Women folk as entitled Men, since society downplays the presence of the Woman, then, maybe just then, a few of the still Sane us might flag the banner.<br /><br /> But right now, Feminists are fighting something deeper than equal rights and opportunities. Of course you disagree! You should, but after you explain the bitterness that comes with a GOOD number of their campaigns. A woman may never know 'feminist', not until she's estranged and suddenly, she's everywhere, flying speeches.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /> Feminists should REDEFINE their values and purpose, they should SENSITIZE themselves. Your movement, whatever it is, is NOT a MEN-HATERS nor a CONTROL-MEN movement! True, the society is male-biased, but seest thou a woman diligent enough to prove her worth? She'ud rise without your feminist-cum-bitter ladies movement.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /> You've, to a disappointingly embarrassing extent, become POOR EXCUSES OF MEN; trying to SNATCH the roles in the society from under the Men, playing the Men and all that. You CANNOT become the Men, the position's already taken, you can only be the Women with FULL rights.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /> For the Feminist-married, firstly become the submissive ideal wife, so the Feminist-unmarried can learn from you-married to become better ladies who must one day build a home that would not be a bitter breed of distraught Children and Regretting Husbands.<br /><br /> Feminists, you've become proudly-loud women, who see submitting to husbands, men-led authorities, and etc as beneath you. I still maintain, REDEFINE your values! WE are tired of your misunderstood campaigns, we sincerely are. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So I join the few remnant Sane-Us and the Men to cry, "Bring the Woman Back!" Not the POOR EXCUSES OF MEN, the Woman, feminine, sane and whole, with her FULL rights too.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
Ihuoma Chidirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16859893465767162396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-85965707935218780372016-10-12T05:30:00.001+01:002016-10-17T19:36:54.309+01:00The Things I hear from my window (1)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisfiWVyWq2qjP6Ye6gSrM8guhlky85gDmkPju47daFbUGSB_5eaUvIgbd-MzoZPC-_zkZTOySokBps2zrkC1GWrf2hzT_ZPbfCz5oFloB3Lj07ypKwAbHIv_QYg3tEJXTaCExfAXgT78g/s1600/Win.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisfiWVyWq2qjP6Ye6gSrM8guhlky85gDmkPju47daFbUGSB_5eaUvIgbd-MzoZPC-_zkZTOySokBps2zrkC1GWrf2hzT_ZPbfCz5oFloB3Lj07ypKwAbHIv_QYg3tEJXTaCExfAXgT78g/s320/Win.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
From That Church...<br />
<br />
Pastor (SCREAMING): Nabania! (Tonight!)<br />
Church (LOUDER STILL): Nabania!! (Tonight!)<br />
<br />
Pastor: Naa'abania!! (Tonight!)<br />
Church: Naa'abania!!! (Tonight!)<br />
<br />
Pastor: Every Spiritual husband!<br />
Church (Men & Women): Every Spiritual husband!!<br />
<br />
Pastor: In my life...<br />
Church: In my life...<br />
<br />
Pastor: Die! Die! Die!....<br />
Church (Men & Women still): Die! Die! Die!...<br />
<br />
Pastor: Pray! Pray! Pray! Pray! <br />
Church: Pray! Pray! Pray! Pray!<br />
<br />
Pastor: Spiritual husband Dieeee!!<br />
Church (Men & Women): Spiritual husband Dieeee!!<br />
<br />
Me: Ah! Even the men? Is it 'spiritually gay'?!<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/thethingsihearfrommywindow?source=feed_text&story_id=10205184382989020">#TheThingsIHearFromMyWindow</a>Ihuoma Chidirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16859893465767162396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-74978511071538768572016-10-11T11:03:00.003+01:002016-10-11T11:04:48.844+01:00To my Dear PC, writes...<div style="text-align: justify;">
You ain't seen nothing yet.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /> Back at Sec school,
I had a water bottle from my Js days. My Eldest Sis had passed that
water bottle to me and it felt too legendary to let go just because I had
become a senior girl. Can't say I've got a thing for water, but I
carried water in that bottle to school up to SS3.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /> My bad! My class
girls would sometimes poke fun at me. Probably just before the usual
morning assembly, (was always their perfect time) one would
sarcastically say,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Baby Ify..." and when my expression would go,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Why?" she'ud reply,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"only babies carry water to school nah. Are you not a baby? Carrying water like them." </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /> Others would snigger approvingly.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'ud sometimes chuckle, tired from the incessant reminder already.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My baby water bottle was THIS big, which meant about 5 or 6 ADULT
classmates of mine could each have one satisfying cup off it and I'ud
still be left a cup or two if no extra Adult classmate wonned some, that
is. Well, I learnt then to diligently lock my baby water bottle in my
desk or school bag anytime I had to leave, for break, French lab, etc. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You see, my ADULT class girls had this HUGE thirst-appetite only my baby
water could satiate, and since my baby self wanted them to stay Adults,
LOCK was the word.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
They seemingly forgot easily but my memory
stayed put. For, often they'ud come in from break and Miss
Anti-Baby-Classmate would go,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Ehn Ify, water mbok!" (water pls)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Me too" another would say</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Thank God for this your water sef..." a third would add. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
All the while the water never show o, dey just dey wash demselves!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then I would tactily say,<br /> "I have just enough for me"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /> Or</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /> "Adults don't drink from 'feeding' bottles"<br />
Or any of those my-laugh-comes-last replies. And maybe while I'm yet
speaking, one particular 'lion-hearted' one (no be today!) would
unsuspectingly shake the bottle and scream,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Hah! You've not even touched this thing today, it's still full."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Drink Nah!!!" I'ud threaten inside, buh outside I'ud say, "I'm not giving, simple!"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When it dawns on them its a serious 'NO', all hell breaks loose! </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Mrs Anuonye's daughter! SCM! Chapel PrefectS! After now you'ud come
and carry bible and go for SCM! You're doing stingy for common water,
common water?! Mtchewww....." The hiss even begets grandchildren often.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
God helps you it's a Tuesday, the SCM (Student Christian Movement)
meeting day, you're done for! They'ud simply shred the day's message and
apply the bits to your matter. However they do that part.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I
eventually developed a tough really thick skin for my classmates, my set
generally, though not before they left me the mentality that I had to
explain my actions, swallow their shyt for 'SCM' and desist from SEVERAL
acts.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The whole Pastors Child thing was drooping my shoulders.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Back home in God's House, the midst of the brethren wasn't any funnier.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /> You had to button up to the neck least the Spirit departs from the space in between!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You had to cover your low-cut-hair intoto least the Spirit sees your hair line and goes back to eligwe (heaven).</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You had to say "Amen" to every Hallelujah so THEY know your mind aint tuned to some anti-Pastors'-Child thoughts.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You become a teen; How dare you lip-gloss? Some 'concerned' brethren begin dreaming dreams un-behalf of your Ma.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You walk into God's house and THEY leave their eyes behind you. One of
they 'concerned', probably does ask no one in particular,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Is that legs I'm seeing in Ify's skirt?" (Nah, it's teeth!)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Another replies, "my sis that's what we see o. These Pastors Children don't know what they represent." </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /> Your leg-level dress is the distraction, they need it toe-level.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The problem; THEY! They measure by their standards NOT the standard of
Jesus, NO, not His! Everyone's so busy making sure you fit in physically
and properly into the Pastors Child skin that no one stops to care what
troubles your soul fights.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My solution; find Jesus for yourself.
When you do, He leads you in the path of righteousness and as you grow
in Him, you learn to live a life free of obligations to explain
nothing!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Believe me dear, you don't wonna help those women
celebrate their acclaimed 'revelationary' gift, it kills faster than the
mess you probably get into;</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Sis Angel, you said it o. You said this girl would get herself pregnant!", Sis Purity reminds excitedly.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Didn't I say it?!" lips paused in that tatafo manner.<br />
"...I knew what I saw when I warned her mother. See now? A whole
Pastors' Child!" Sis Angel would intone, Godly sympathy elusive.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I feel joy now anytime I'm asked, "Are you a pastors' child?"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
For I smile and proudly say, "I am. Both parent are pastors. Dad is
known as a pastor and mum even went through theology school."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then someone maybe goes, "No wonder." And within I tell myself, "It's NOT the Pastorial Gene, Jesus made the difference!"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
To all my kind out there struggling with an identity, your identity lies in Jesus. Find Him!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Dearest Pastors' Child, I wrote this one for you.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyhy_7PQ6Kb_Sny48zgo_JcyNt1l0QM2uypd63oRq2KdLAWVqc-q5gx4tjfvkVKrr6KZ0bq3D7ihnG09w9DeDfP3qgC6B7HuExQq-yLeUXmJsNSHij-dq6zraNP0n6ONq4nke4_vR4D_xV/s1600/K+Post+pic.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyhy_7PQ6Kb_Sny48zgo_JcyNt1l0QM2uypd63oRq2KdLAWVqc-q5gx4tjfvkVKrr6KZ0bq3D7ihnG09w9DeDfP3qgC6B7HuExQq-yLeUXmJsNSHij-dq6zraNP0n6ONq4nke4_vR4D_xV/s1600/K+Post+pic.JPG" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Ihuoma Chidirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16859893465767162396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3004274532368435193.post-43503150169563674942016-10-11T05:07:00.002+01:002016-10-11T05:07:50.283+01:00You are not up to 22<div style="text-align: justify;">
He had said, the Daddy, <br />
"You, you're not up to 22 now, are you up to 22?"<br />
<br />
What the..., I lost the steam fast. He's probably the umpteenth person who has come close up enough to tell me I looked this young. Na dem sabi.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Recall on Nwipa's Mama's wedding day, her Chairman had thought me older. Older?! Than someone 3 BLOWN years my senior? I was crestfallen, why would they do that to me nah?! Eh?! And all she had said in comfort was, "...cos you look matured." Now this?! <br />
<br />
It's always 22 for these ones, always. See I'm old now, quite old it scares me to think about it these days even, so when I'm told I'm 22, I feel MOCKED, very MOCKED. Forget the complexion and face, just tell me you think I'm older than I look, that ain't wonderful in itself, but JUST FAIR can do.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
In this times of CHANGE, we gat to face the truth as it stares us upfront, we're all getting older and no wrong assertions can salvage the times we've used up. Staying over past days would only keep good memories fresh, maybe, but what we all need is ACTION in the present future, ACT!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Don't sit there and dream of a beautiful home with Folake, go propose to Folake!<br />
To slouch on that office couch and wish you had a corporate retainer-ship like oga senior?! work HARD Esq, Harder even, t'will pay, I know!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
You look at your Change President and just know you'ud deliver better if you were in the seat, NO dear, your integrity was smeared almost a century ago, you're corrupt, VERY, rebuild your integrity! REBuild dear, don't just know, REBUILD!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
We can all be our dreams, would tell you that gist real soon, but what we need now is WORK, EFFORT, I think EFFORT is the word.<br />
<br />
So then, in getting uncomfortable, get dreams, in getting dreams add EFFORTS, add EFFORTS to your dreams, for that's when they'ud be called FULFILLED, your DREAMS.<br />
<br />
(Now to our dear Nwipa that's now an earthling, Abole? We love you plenry sweets, grow in JESUS).<br />
<br />
To my sweet 22s, I ain't struggling that age loves, I'm adding EFFORTS to my dreams instead, bera take the hint.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg10JXsV7GShLc5eVizzG6V0vGKTCaJUZ3Sm3pMCmdFSV2NuJb0KS-BRztLZxH9in65eO_xBZE6C4-c87aZFl4SKZTy67zV9qrkewGRle_D5E1GV8NEjOs9OnDKEUYcCzoyjviRPnIFohPB/s1600/K+Post+pic.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg10JXsV7GShLc5eVizzG6V0vGKTCaJUZ3Sm3pMCmdFSV2NuJb0KS-BRztLZxH9in65eO_xBZE6C4-c87aZFl4SKZTy67zV9qrkewGRle_D5E1GV8NEjOs9OnDKEUYcCzoyjviRPnIFohPB/s1600/K+Post+pic.JPG" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
Ihuoma Chidirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16859893465767162396noreply@blogger.com0