>> Monday, June 29, 2009

Dear everyone

First of all. I sincerely thank each and every single one of you for taking time to read my last post and making time to comment. They ALL help. So thank you.
Secondly, I apologize for not being able to get back here sooner and not staying updated on your blogs..I've been so very busy.

I never knew posting about what happened to me would actually make a difference to me, but it really does. You guys weren't kidding o. It really was a big step. I feel like some of the burden has been lifted off my shoulders and I am a bit more convinced that it wasn't my fault. But can you believe that? A bit more convinced. That's how strong the feeling of guilt is ingrained in me.

I want to talk about what rape did to me to shed some more light on the issue.
The guilt is undescribable. You go on living your life like before and from day to day, you don't feel anything. But as I look back I realise how much it all effected me. I am not trying to dramatize, in fact I was trying everything but. But the guilt is just so strong.
You feel so stained. So dirty. So broken.
I asked myself - Who is going to want me now?

I don't know what it would have been like to be raped if I wasn't a virgin. It's just as bad anyway, but somehow I feel like the fact that I was raped when I was a virgin made the whole experience worse. The feeling of loss has been overwhelming. Not even the first years, but later on I realised what I had really lost.
Losing virginity physically isn't the big deal here. It is the mental aspect of it all. My virginity should have belonged to me. It is my right to decide when I want to give it up. I never got to experience that, and it severely fucked up my sexuality. My initial introduction to sex was through violence and force. As a result, sex was very much reduced to a necessary routine to me. Just something that needed to be done. Not something for me.
I'm going to be very candid here, because it is the only way I can make people understand, so forgive me for being explicit.
The first year after I got raped completely secluded myself. I stayed inside mostly - depressed. I focused on other things. I wrote a lot of poetry. I listened to a lot of music. Sometimes, I'd be caught by flashbacks. Very strong, frightening flashbacks. I've supressed a lot of these memories so they don't stand out as very clear, but I remember waking up at night from nightmares and being set back to what happened. The guys face, the guys moves and the whole experience would reinact itself in my head so strong it all seemed real. I would smell his disgusting cologne. I'd sit shaking in the corner of my room.

It did get better.

After a year these flashbacks didn't come as often. I opened up a bit more but still remained closed. I think people sensed this about me and kept away as a result.
I felt unworthy. My confidence was low to say the least. I was very self-conscious. I'd dress in ways to try to make people not notice me as much.
I met my now husband and I think that did change things, but we sure have had a lot of problems because of it. I was broken when I met him. I was afraid and had not healed. Of course this affected our relationship. For me to trust him was not an easy thing and sexually I would struggle. I still do sometimes. By that I mean you would see no physical signs of struggle, but in my mind my head was somewhere else. My head would go back to that day. And after the whole act, I'd start crying. He'd try to comfort me, puzzled at my reaction. He didn't know then, but I've told him now. I put myself in his shoes and realise it is very hard to understand.
It all culminated into one day where I completely broke down and I was hospitalized for 3 weeks. But after that, I think I got it more out of my system

I'm more relentless now. I get annoyed with women who act cheap, dress cheap and behave like hoes. Because they're playing with fire and won't know what hit them the day something wrong might happen to them. The ones who get carelessly drunk and walk home alone. I am a feminist and I think we should be able to dress however we want without having to fear getting raped. But at the same time we need to get real and get responsible.
I struggle to express myself because this issue is so close at home. I fear being misunderstood.

The women I'm talking about are women who have no problems sleeping with men they don't know. Who can throw themselves on men and shows just a bit too much to everyone. I'm sorry, but they DO give some fucked up guys the impression that just having sex anywhere anytime with anyone is just FINE. And it is not.
Assault-rapes are not so common. But rapes between people who actually know each other happens every day.

I guess my point is: YES, ideally we should be able to be free and even act crazy if we want to (even though that is not my thing). It wouldn't affect "normal" guys, but we can't forget there are plenty of predators out there who doesn't care or understand. It's those we need to worry about. No we shouldn't have to shape our lives because of those stupid guys but lets get real.. No matter what we do in the world rape is never going to stop completely. There will always be those crazy guys who are capable of doing it.
Clarification: I am not blaming any girl or any woman for any rape happening out there. We deserve to remain untouched no matter how we behave or dress. BUT there is nothing wrong with taking precautions and use our common sense. We can be in situations where another guy, whether it be our friend, brother or father, won't be there to protect us.

I am not talking about guilt and blame here, simply about being smart and as precautionary as we can.

Talking of guilt, we really need to change the attitude in the population. Even though most people I meet always seem to think rape isn't the victim's fault, there is unfortunately an attitude in people that rape actually is the victim's fault. Many people don't say it out loud and clear, but it's easy to sense. This causes stigmatization. This makes us afraid to stand out and tell our stories. Because we are afraid of what people will think. And this in turn keeps a lid on the whole subject, which makes debate difficult.

I also think we need to make it easier for women to come forth and go to the police if they become a victim of rape. Practices are different in all countries, but here, the examinations you would have to go through are very traumatizing. I don't know it all, but I wish there could be an easier way of getting this done. Of course I understand it's needed for proof, but all this hassle combined with fear just keep girls away from going to the police. I never did. Because I just wanted to pretend it didn't happen, and I was really scared. The guy had threatened he would kill me. It's hard to be strong enough to resist that fear. I wasn't.

Lastly I think it is time us women bring our brothers, husbands and friends into this fight. It is time they fight this too. This battle is not only for us. We are their daughers, sisters and wives. Rape is very common. Men who are capable of it doesn't "look" like rapists. They look normal, have friends and jobs. They may look completely innocent to their friends. I don't know, but I think we just need to make rape even more unacceptable than it already is. Men need to fight this battle together with us. Speak out when you see or hear something wrong. This goes for domestic abuse aswell. I don't think it will solve the problem, but I do think it would help if more men spoke out about how wrong rape is. How unacceptable it is. Defend us. Speak up when they're hanging with the guys.

I no longer have flashbacks. Only a few nightmares in a year. I dress how I want to and I enjoy turning down guys who try to hit me up. I am careful, but myself. I am confident that I can be the woman I've always wanted to be. The rape no longer shapes everything in me, but it is part of who i am today. It's made me who I am today.I have bad days where I feel weak, but it is no longer dominant. And I am going to use it to empower me rather than weaken me. Empower me in the battle against it. I am going to use it against every rapist out there. The one who laughs last laughs best and karma will get your ass one day, mr. Rapist.

Thank you everyone for giving me the strength to realise this and push me another step higher on the road of redemption.

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I was only 14 when.... - Confession's week.

>> Wednesday, June 17, 2009

I was 14 when....




That is the easiest word to call it. IT.

I was only 14 when someone stole what I had precious to me.
What is that you say?

What I had precious to me. What belonged to me and me only. My innocence.
My virginity.

He raped me when I was 14.


It has taken me more than 8 years to be able to write that word together with anything concerning me. To say it, I sometimes know how, but sometimes don't. Most of the time I can't say it. I can say it when talking about something I read in the news, when hearing of someone else getting raped, but not when I am talking about myself. It's an ugly word. I have realised I need to be open about it for many reasons. To heal myself. To help others. To shed light on the issue. But in real life only 3 of my closest ones knows about what happened. Now I am taking another step by sharing it with you.

I looked matured at 13. I was always mistaken for being 18 then. I spent little time at home because my brother had run away, my dad was going crazy and my mom was deeply depressed and over-worked. I felt uncomfortable in my own skin. I was very angry with my parents. Very angry. My dad was so violent and my mom never protected me.

I remember one morning my dad drove me to school. I had asked them to help me wake up early to study for a test. I was a hard worker always looking for top grades. They hadn't woken me up and I was stressed because I had my test first thing in the morning. I was annoyed.
As we entered the driveway into the school, my dad flipped. I had opened the passenger's door and had one leg out. I just wanted to get to school.
He started shouting and screaming like crazy. He reversed the car right into the highway 80 km/h. And forth again. And back again. While I was hanging out of the car. He nearly ran over 3 of my classmates. Can you imagine my shame?
I asked him to please calm down. My heart was racing. He finally stopped the car and I got out.
I went to class for my test. I sat down at my desk, hid my face. I felt a heavy lump in my throat. Tears started to stroll. I dried them and did the test.

Anyways.. I grew more stubborn and angry the more bad things happened. I hated staying at home because it always brought problems with it. I had friends who didn't understand me. I was more mature than them mentally as well. I didn't fit in. For the first time, guys started hitting me up anywhere and everywhere. Saying I was beautiful, that I was special. That they had never seen anything like me before. I had never heard beautiful words like before and to be honest it kinda felt good. Even though it was all fake. I never accepted anyone. Never indulged in the hitting up process. I just ignored them. I wasn't interested in boys. The only thing I cared about was school and my girlfriends. But it felt good to hear.
One day I was with one of my girls and a guy started talking to us. We talked and got to know each other. He was just 3 years older. We became friends. At least that's what I thought. I didn't want to meet him alone, so we were always several people together, my friends and his. I thought that would make it safe.

One day, we were supposed to meet up, and as I got to the location, my girlfriend cancelled. For the first time he brought 4 older guys with him. When I realised, I said I had to go home. That I shouldn't be out. He said no come on you think anyone is going to hurt you? We're just friends. Besides, they're going soon we just have to go somewhere to pick something up. I was reluctant. I said no. He said Come on! What are you so scared of. They were all kinda laughing at me. I felt scared. He said the place they needed to go pick "something" up was just 5 minutes away. Ok I said, to get him off my back. We got there. I said I'd wait downstairs. He said come on inside there's nothing to worry about. I went up with him, and we got into what appeared to be some kind of student house with different people living. In other words, a lot of people everywhere. So I felt more secure. I thought nothing bad can happen if there's a lot of people around.

They went into a room, he told me to sit down and wait. I asked if we weren't going to go soon? He said yes we're going in a minute just wait. The guys came in and turned on the tv and had a bottle of whisky with them. Instantly, the alarms in my head went off. I said I want to go. He said don't worry we're going to go I'm just waiting for another guy to get here and give me something. Give you what?, I said. I tried to wake up and walk out, he pulled me back down and laughed at me. He just kept saying don't worry, don't worry, you're with me I don't know what you're so scared of noone is ever going to do anything to you! I waited uncomfortably. Someone locked the door. The guys said that I should try the whisky. I said no thanks, I don't drink. They laughed. They said TRY! and put the glass to my mouth. I turned away and said no I don't like it I don't drink no THANKS. One turned my head and they poured the glass over in my mouth. I started panicking. It tasted like shit and my shirt was all wet.

Suddenly, my "friend" changed. His eyes changed and suddenly he was in with them. He pushed me down on the bed I was sitting. I tried to wake up but he wouldn't let me. He put his knee on top of my leg. I said what the hell are you doing? He pulled down my shirt and exposed my boobs to everyone. They were all laughing. I pulled up my shirt and tried to wake up again. At this point I was utterly confused, empty for words. My memory is blurry as well. He reached for my pants and I remember hitting his hand to keep away. They laughed again. He said he wasn't going to do anything that this is a piece of cake. I was terrified. He tried to reach for my pants again. I shouted NO, STOP IT RIGHT NOW! He tore my shirt up. I kicked at him and shouted again STOP IT STOP IT! They were really amused.

I prayed that someone would come in. God answered my prayers. Someone knocked on the door and they were all distracted. They opened up the door and out I ran with only my pants and bra on, my tore up shirt in my hands. I never spoke to him again.
As I came out, I could not believe that it was me. When did all this happen? I was very ignorant then about sex and the opposite sex. Well, not ignorant, but I mean, I had never considered it. It was so far away from my thoughts. I was more innocent than most of my classmates at the time and I intended to stay that way. As I came out, everyone that passed by started at me with curious looks. I put on my tore up, wet shirt. Pretended like nothing, because I hated their stares. As I came home, my parents were both pissed that I was late. They never asked me a question, just were really angry. Shouting.

For a full year I pretended this basically didn't happen. I promised myself I'd never step into a guys house alone again. I continued on with my life. My life was quite unhappy then. I felt so out of place and had so many issues at home. I turned 14 and my life was pretty much the same as the year before, except I didn't hang out with guys. Only a few from school were in my circle of friends. The circle was expanded by someone's older friend from another school. We started talking. As I reminisce, I have no idea why I talked to him? He seemed just ok though, I didn't see any warning signs and I knew I'd never let myself be alone with a guy after the first incident.

The only times we talked were when we all met in broad daylight. One day it was his birthday and we were all supposed to meet for a get-together at his house. I didn't know the place very well, so I got to the station and he met me there. Everything was cool and chilled out like we were buddies. No tension. We talked about random stuff as we walked over to his mother's place. I think he was approaching 18, but still living at home. I don't know why it felt natural for me to be friends with people older than me. It had always been, because I was mature and felt more comfortable with them. I had girlfriends aged 18 then too. To me it wasn't a big deal, but I now realise that it is.
I asked for my other girlfriends if they were at his house, he said yes they've already been there for a while. I am so happy you guys can celebrate my birthday with me. This was in the day on a Saturday, like 2pm. He said they'd ordered pizza and was going to watch a movie.
As we got in, I removed my shoes. He locked the door. I went into the other room and guess what? The flat was empty. I immediately asked him about it, he laughed and said he was only joking that they're coming any minute. The pizza was there. I thought about it for a second and turned around. I wanted to leave. He asked me what was wrong with me, that come on it was his birthday! I said no I can't stay here I'm sorry. I was putting on my shoes, he came from behind, grabbed me and threw me down on the floor. I could not, excuse my french, FUCKING believe it. This is what went through my head at the time 'Is this really happening again? Maybe this is how it is o? Maybe this is how it's meant to be? Every man wants to have sex with me? Maybe this is how it is for everybody, just that I don't know?'
I was filled with fear and disappointment, and ... weakness. Fatigue. Fed up over life itself. I did not comprehend what the hell was going on, why, how, what??
I woke up and pushed him to the side to go to the door, open the lock. He pulled me back again, this time with more force. I hit him and shouted "LET ME GO WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!" he was silent. He didn't say a word. He looked like he was high on something, but he wasn't. He was just gone. His eyes were dead. He pushed me so hard I fell forward onto the bed. He came from back and lied down on top of me holding my hands down. I shouted NO PLEASE DON'T!! PLease Please let me go I can't do this! I tried to move my hands but I couldn't. I tried kicking him somehow, but my legs couldn't reach him. He then moved forward, put his knees on my arms to keep me down. I continued kicking and screaming. I think that's when he opened up his pants. He then moved down again and kept my hands down with his hands. I tried to bite his hands. Didn't work. Nothing did, he was too strong. I kept on trying to kick backwards with my legs, but they couldn't freaking reach him. Only slightly did they hit his back. My heart was racing and my head was desperatly trying to think fast on solutions. SOLUTIONS SOLUTIONS SOLUTIONS. What can I do where can I run what can I find. I can't remember what happened between then and my next memory.
A second later it was too late. He'd done it. At least it appeared to be a second and at the same time an hour.
All I can remember is the wall in front of me. And the pain. The piercing pain, resembling a sharpened knife. Time stood still. I swear to you. I could not hear anything. Everywhere was silence. I was crying, but everywhere was silence. I swear everything went in slow motion to me.
But I think it went fast.

I still feel like both of these incidents were my fault. It's been incredibly difficult for me to write it down. I am caught by insecurities, thinking you will all judge me and say what I don't want to hear, that it's my fault. But deep inside I know it wasn't. I don't want to post this, but I will. This is for me. I need to stop being so ashamed for what was not my fault. This post is already very long so I will end it here. But I will do a follow up as soon as this one has been read. This one explains what happened, my follow-up will contain my thoughts and conclusions of this issue in general and the after-effects. Please follow me. I want to make a difference. I love you all for all your support and love.

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My brother the charming iron man - Confession's week

>> Tuesday, June 16, 2009

I wasn't planning on putting up any post today but I got quite a bit emotional and just felt like I had to write this stuff down...
I read all of your comments on my last post and I really appreciate them all. After reading them I was more convinced to not go, but I had actually told them I was going to come so I wanted to go anyway. However waking up today, I really don't want to go.
I would love to meet his girlfriend and other sister, but with him, it's all going to be really awkward and uncomfortable.
I was so touched by Scribble's post about his sister and being a big brother and all. I am not a fan of wishing for what we cannot have and always thinking the grass is greener and all, but Do I wish I had a brother like that!
Suddenly as I sat here at work, two memories, two positive memories came back to me, about my brother. I get filled with sadness thinking about them because it feels like...loss. It feels like I almost had that brother but he's gone now..

The first memory is from when I was around 6-7 years old. My family and I were on a little camping holiday. My mother was outside to go to the toilet late in the night and there was this terrible storm and thunder. Suddenly, the lightning struck down very close to us and all the lights went off and a tree fell down. I was so scared for my mother that I started crying. My dad went to look for her, and my brother HELD me and comforted me. Aww. It felt so safe and secure. A feeling I've never had again in my life, because my father was never like that with me and neither has my brother since that day.

The second memory was from when I was around 13 and visited him in Poland - he was doing his med studies there. For the first time we were alone together, and he took me out to a cafè. We started talking serious for the first time and he asked me how things were at home. Because he knew how it could be. I told him the truth about how my dad would sometimes get and that I felt terrible staying there sometimes, that he had hit me. He said that soon he was going to come home, that I needn't worry, that I could just come to his place if things were getting really bad, just to blow off steam and relax. Needless to say he never did come back and he never got in touch with me again till I was 17-18. That was the time he told me to get on medicines.

I wonder what got into him those two times, those two times he was actually proud be my brother, not just patronizing me at every chance he got, not just ridiculing me in front of every one.

If I was to go today, he would outshine everyone else. He is that kind of person. Therefore I would get no chance to talk to the other women around. So I just texted him that I am not going to come, But I wished him a wonderful birthday and told him to have lots of fun with everyone, that I wish I could have got him something but didn't know what...

I can totally see what other people see in him. He's super charming and have had plenty of girls falling head over heels in love with him. He's very smart and witty. He's cool. I don't know if he hates me because I am my father's daughter. I don't know. He doesn't hate me but it's clear that he is very bitter. He is never that charming sweet guy around me. He always just talks down to me and ignores my presence quite passive aggressivly. He always talks over my head. He always interrupts and he's never ever interested in anything concerning me and my life. When I lost a huge chunk of my finger, him being a doctor, he came over to my place. I was in terrible pain, drugged on pain killers that still didn't work. He made the whole thing sound so trivial and said he'd also cut his fingers before that he knew its mad painful. I DIDN'T CUT MY FINGER I LOST HALF OF IT.. I was twisting and turning in pain that day ( it was just the day after I think ) and he actually had a smirk on his face asking me "It's not that painful is it?" like I was exaggerating.

Ohhhhhhhhhh how do I get over this?
Is it natural that I care this much? I don't know why I care so much . Why am I worrying myself over this while he doesn't even donate one thought for me in a month...

Well brother this is for you... I wish you a happy birthday. I hope you live happily with your girlfriend. I wish the birth of your child in July will change your life forever and give you happiness. I wish you the best of luck. I wish you will care about me one day. We share the same loving mother. She's crying over the fact that you don't care. Why don't you even care about that? If not me, then at least give her your care. Call her sometimes, meet her sometimes. She's growing older and she's missing you. She's sorry for whatever it is my father put you through. So am I, but I am not him. You are my only brother and nothing can change that. Don't forget what I have gone through too. I am your little sister, why do I feel like you try to ignore that fact? Why didn't you protect me when my father didn't? You just ran away and I ended up in lots of trouble. Trouble that made me shed tears, face nightmares and grow more experienced than even you. You knew I would be in trouble, but you didn't come for me? No matter what it is, I forgive you. I hope you can overcome whatever it is that is making you keep away from me. Happy birthday brother. I love you no matter what.

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Brother's 30 th B-day

>> Monday, June 15, 2009

I'm almost sweating from all the turbo-blog-reading I've been doing for the past 4 hours. What would my boss think? Whoa...
I was going to put up a serious post today but I've decided to keep that for Wednesday and keep this more random as I am very anxious and need some pep-talk.

Remember my brother? The one I have issues with? After the last incident I just decided to finally let go. Because of what it has been costing me emotionally to keep up with it all. I am tired of being disappointed every time. Of always working really hard on myself to start from scratch and not have any expectations, negative or positive, to not judge, always looking to the positive, and everytime being treated like some ridicilous space of air...It's been a relief to let go. What I mean by letting go is not that I have given up. I am still going to receive him the day he decides I am worth his thoughts. But I can't waste any more time and emotional energy worrying myself over our relationship and attempting to stay in touch. This weekend, his innocent girlfriend whom I think does not really know all that much about him contacted me on Facebook. At least she does not know of our issues. It's his 30th Birthday tomorrow and she said that them, I and his other half sister should get together, possibly with boyfriend/husband too. I know mine doesn't want to see him, so I am not going to force him to go to yet another excruciating family event involving my brother..My brother always just makes him feel small and talks to him in a patronizing way...
My brother's other half sister (they share the same father) I have not met since I was 9 years old. She's a bit younger than me.
I remember the last time I saw her - was for his birthday years and years ago, and all I remember is I got really jealous. I grew up with my brother in the same house but she's never lived with him. My mother had full custody of him and he rarely saw his father. Anyways she was there for his birthday then and even brought a friend along. When he saw them coming he ran up to them, rubbed their heads and said "MY SWEET SUNSHINES!"..Me he couldn't care less for back then.. I was so jealous! I was only 9 let me remind you that, lol.
A year ago, I found an old colouring book ( is that what it's called? Crayon book?)from my childhood and had a good laugh when I read at the back. I remember I brought it along when I was like 7 years old to some family holiday with my brother. The writings inthe back really is this story in a nutshell

Me, in crooked, curled childish letters, some flipped reverse 'P, I LoVE, LOvE LOVe yOU SoOo MUTCH!'
My brother wrote the following : 'You little piece of SHIT!'

What can I do but laugh? Lol
Anyways, I do not have any issues with this girl at all. I think we have a lot more in common than I do my brother and she seems really nice. But I do not know her. And his step sister is coming too. His girlfriend suggested we go disco bowling on Hard Rock Cafe...

I just feel so obliged to go, just to show myself and show that I care, but I am feeling anxious about it. I will be stuck with a bunch of people I do not know, and someone I know who likes to laugh at me and crack bad jokes on my expense. I think I should give it a shot though, maybe I will make friends with his other sister? I have to try. I have to try. I am saying that not fully believing myself but I really need to try, right?

I know I come out sounding really bitter and all but really that isn't so much the case. If I read this post I'd probably think the person writing it is at fault for being bitter and having low expectations, but I swear I've always started with a fresh white sheet pretending the past is the past, still every time he badmouths me...Anyways..

Other updates....
Everything for going to Naija is getting ready, less than a month now. The only thing that isn't ready is the cash! I will thank God the day we finish that house, for real... They want to kill us over there.. All the time asking for more money to do the littlest thing, thinking we have gold down our pockets not understanding we're spending every penny we got on this stuff, walking nearly pocketless for half a month at a time. All the time come hear new story. "Yes, we had the cement and the tiles, but we had no water so we could not continue the job" therefore a 2 week delay. Of course they can't be bothered calling to let us know this, they just leave the site and wait to hear from us. Needless to say, the budget keeps increasing because of "changes".
I can't wait to go though..get the warm weather, dress up in nice dresses every day and paint my nails in fresh summery colours....yummy. And plantain! Double yummy. And wearing sandals every day!

I have been so busy, but I am about to start updating my story on the other blog.
Also expect my serious post on Wednesday.

Lastly I want to thank everyone for being so sweet to me. I appreciate blogville so much. Every single one of you for taking the time to read and comment, whether my posts are pointlessly random or seriously determined. Appreciate it.

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It's hammertime!

>> Friday, June 12, 2009

What's up people?

This is not really my day so I'm going to share with you a funny vid instead.

Did you dig MC Hammer back in the day? Then this video is for you. I thought it was hilarious, lol

Remember this guy?

Well sometimes when I want to blog, he wants attention. if I don't give it to him, he's going to find a way to get it....

Have a nice weekend everyone! Cheer me up with some comments yeah? Thanks :-D

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Quick fix ? Or maybe not?

>> Wednesday, June 10, 2009

*DISCLAIMER* So , I know this is a little long, but encourage and challenge you to read anyway.

So, we have reached the middle of yet another week.
Time goes by fast - we are soon in the middle of June and already the middle of the year.
How are you spending your time? Are you taking advantage of every moment? Are you on the right path in life? Where do you see yourself the next 5 years?

I think these are important questions to keep in mind as we live. Every day I see people who make the wrong choices complain about how their life is turning out, while at the same time they're not really that disciplined with themselves.

I want to talk about what I personally call The Long Road Vs. The Short Road. Call it whatever you wanna call it. You can also call it The Long Tunnel Vs. The Short Tunnel. Or Shortcuts Vs. Endurance.
What is the wisest thing to do when you have two choices. You weigh the pro and cons on both sides. Hence the 'versus'.

A lot of people seem to continue living a life filled with shortcuts. My arguement is that this rarely ever works any good. I want to encourage everyone to be strong and disciplined instead. There are plenty of examples that choosing the short road leads to failure.

- You feel like crap. You're depressed. You decide to go get drunk, or start smoking weed, or start taking drugs, or pretend to yourself you don't have any problems. All of these "solutions" will never make the problems any better, it's just a big time waster. In the end, however long it takes for you to live in that denial, you will surely realise that it wasn't the right way to go. The next day you wake up with a massive headache, feeling even worse about yourself, or you drain your brain away, gradually. You end up worse than where you started.

- You are dissatisfied with your financial situation. You want to save money for something big like getting your own house, getting a car, putting yourself out of debt or renewing your flat. Because you feel like crap, you go and buy a bunch of new clothes and spend your entire months pay ( I know someone who just did this ). As a result, money you could have saved is gone. Again this is a time waster.

- Deep inside you are lonely and wish you could find a bestfriend and lover to share your life with. Because you're too scared to deal with your own issues and get real, you end up sleeping with lots of men/women. Maybe it gives you a thrill and loads of confidence. Maybe you're too scared to invest in a real relationship, so you bail everytime things get too serious. Maybe you're too afraid of commitment and responsibility. Maybe you just want to "have a good time". In the end that good time - what of substantial value did it give to you?

There's plenty of more examples.
The common denominator is that they all involve A QUICK FIX but always PROLONGS whatever problem it is you are dealing with. You are in denial, stealing precious time from YOUR LIFE. Time you could have spent more enlightened in truth.
You can always put it off and say you will deal with it tomorrow or next time. Stop and think.
It always becomes "next time". Do it TODAY. Do it NOW.
Sooner or later, you will realise you were just wasting your time because you were too afraid to do what was right. This is a fact. And by sooner or later, "later" can mean 1 month or 50 years.

I'm inspired by watching all the people in denial around me. All the guys who are around 30 and still not doing anything with their lives. They go back to Nigeria claiming they're God's gift to women. Or all the people who gets involved in drug business to make quick money but end up dead. One guy was recently arrested in Germany and died in prison 4 days later - they're bringing his dead body home. All the examples I've given, you might think does not apply to you, because you're not a womanizer, not a maneater and you're not doing anything illegal. But this applies for any small petty issue as well.
We all have our issues, we are all imperfect, we all have stuff we need to WORK on.
You know deep inside that you're procrastinating so much it's effecting your life negatively.
You know carry too much jealousy within.
You know your insecurity is just a bit too much, and drives your boyfriend/husband away.
You know you're being greedy.
You know it's not right to cheat on your wife and it will only lead to more problems either within you or in the rleationship.
You know you're being so controlling you do not allow yourself to try new things.
Etc. etc.
Yet we keep denying it and pretend it's not a problem, that it's others that need to fix their problems, instead of working on ourselves.

Not working on these issues is what keep us making mistakes in our relationships with other people, is what leads to failure on different levels in our lives.

What I am talking about is all kinds of temptations - the temptations to take the easy way out, the quick fix. And my point about it is, if I have not already said it clear enough, that it always extends your misery. You think you're shortening it, while in fact you are prolonging it.

When I was 14 years old, my classmates started smoking, having sex and going to parties getting drunk. I didn't care whether I fit into their standards or not, I kept working hard at school. They thought I was stupid. Why didn't I want to "enjoy" ? Today I am doing well while most of them has gone nowhere. Some got their first kid at 15, some failed in school and continue spending their parents money on partying. But when their parents die, what are they going to do? How are they going to master life when they have not been taught the slightest of responsibility? Another one is a big super model in NY. I see pictures of her on FB - she's anorexic thin, always with a drink or a cigarette in her hand. Some might view that as successful, but I think she struggles, and after her prime time is over she'll fall into a deep pot hole.

My mother said to me "The one who laughs last, laughs best" - There is a similar Igbo proverb that goes "The patient dog eats the fattest bone" . I swear to this rule.
It is sometimes hard as hell - I've been lonely, I've cried, I've struggled. But I know I am better off like this. I am not a follower. Don't be afraid of a little mental struggle. It seasons you and makes you stronger and full of character. You always come out on the other side. Don't be afraid to do YOUR THING. Do not wait until it is too late.

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>> Monday, June 8, 2009

Abuja, one sunny afternoon, we are rushing to see a family friend. He has decided to donate to us his schedule's only loophole. Busy businessman. We are driving with another friend in the backseat.
It's 2006, the authorities have yet to install traffic lights all over the city. It is still quite a new thing, unfamiliar to many and only in place at a few crossroads.

We reach the crossroad, and the light goes red. We stop, and all the cars and okadas behind and around us keep their fast speed racing forward.
Curiously we look at each other, wondering why no one else is stopping, and look back on the light. Yes, it is red.


Surprised, we look to the backseat and there sits two huge yellow-fever women (traffic police with orange uniform), shirts bulging due to huge boobies with tight leather belts holding in their belle, sweaty foreheads under the authoritative police-caps and mean big eyes, staring strongly as if they could soon fall out of their skulls.

We were still wondering where the hell they came from.

Yellowfever 1, with a fierce voice: SIR You have violated the law o! You beat the traffic light!

Hubby: What have we done? We didn't do anything? Why are you inside our car?


Hubby: No, look ? It is red. We stopped at the red light, what have we done wrong? I think hubby quickly realised that this was not the tone to use with these "women" .

Yellowfever 2 with a loud voice: You wan cause trouble now? I SAID YOU BEAT THE TRAFFIC LIGHT!

Hubby: But.....................


Hubby: Please, someone is waiting for us and we are rushing to go somewhere. Can you please let us go? How much do you want?

The next 5 seconds goes in slow motion. Yellowfever 1 backs up in the seat, tilts her head backwards and eyes outwards, condemningly in a 'No, you did'ent!'- kinda way:

She halfway sits up, sits down again, shakes and shivers as if she is one second away from giving him a serious blow, signalising that she's so furious she can't sit still. At this point I feel highly tempted to interfere. The car is rocking due to her high weight and rapid movements.

Me: Look, PLEASE, what do you want from us? can you please just leave us alone? Anything you want us to give you we can give you just please get out of the car leave us alone? You know we didn't do anything wrong.

Yellowfever 2: YOU? YOU! SHUT UP WOMAN! The car rocks again.

Hubby, trying hard to restrain himself: Ok... he sighs. What do you want then? Please we don't want to go to the police station. I am sure we can resolve this here, please calm down.

Yellowfever 1, still shaking and pushing on our poor friend in the backseat:

We all turn silent in frustration.


Hubby is now resigned. Mike (our friend) is in the backseat is furious. He leans forward and whispers: 'Let me deal with them!' Hubby quickly tells him no, lets all calm down now..
He starts driving down the other street as if to go to the police station as instructed. He realises how unjust this really is and pulls over instead.

Hubby: Look, can we please find some kind of solution here? We really need to get going.

Yellowfever 2 looks down on us with attitude as if we are nothing and gives out a big mscheeeew and rolls her eyes.
Yellowfever 1: Ok, give me 3000 naira, she says, stretching out her open hand, looking the opposite way out the window while rolling her eyes, as if it is the most natural thing after telling us she could not be bought. We put the money in her hand. They take a deep breath to gather enough strength for the chore of waking up from the seats, gets out and smash the doors hard.


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British Consulate Paranoia

>> Thursday, June 4, 2009

So, since we are travelling to Nigeria in July through London Heathrow, hubby needed to apply for a British Transit visa. As the caring wife that I am, of course I did the whole application for him. They have this international website called WorldBridge. There you can find out whether you need a visa or not and send in your electronic application.

Each time I do this, I am flabbergasted at their paranoiac application form.
Yes I know there's terrorism, but is this really necessary? Can they rub it in any more?

I have really tried to understand the background for their insane questions but I can't seem to find any answers.
Questions include:
How much do you make each month?
How much do you pay in taxes?
How much of your income do you give to others?
How much of your income do you use for living expenses?
Are you bringing money with you, how much?
Is anyone else giving you money to spend?

What is up with all these personal, nosy questions? They've gone crazy now. I just don't get what this has to do with a visa. They also need your employers phone number and e-mail address.

It gets worse:

-Do you have any criminal convictions in any country (including traffic offences)?
Have you ever been charged in any country with a criminal offence for which you have not yet been tried in the court (including traffic offences)?

-In times of either peace or war have you‚ ever been involved in‚ or suspected of involvement in‚ war crimes‚ crimes against humanity or genocide?

Yeah sure I am going to tell you that I have been orchestrating genocide. Why wouldn't I?

-Have you ever been involved in‚ supported‚ or encouraged terrorist activities in any country?

-Have you‚ ever been a member of‚ or given support to an organisation that has been concerned in terrorism?

Yes I love terrorism. That's why I wanna come to your country!

Have you ever‚ by any means or medium‚ expressed views that justify or glorify terrorist violence or that may encourage others to terrorist acts or other serious criminal acts?

I glorify terrorism every day! I want to come to your country to share the love.

Now this is the most ridicilous one:

Have you engaged in any other activities that might indicate that you may not be considered a person of good character?

For really?

You're asking me if I am a person that may be considered to not have a good character.


That could go for almost anyone. A lot of people have people in their past who don't like them for some reason and may say a part of their character is bad. So for that you can't get a visa.
See, everyone that lives in the UK have a good character...they don't want to get contaminated.

Sure, I do understand the terrorism thing, but how stupid are you if you think terrorists are going to come applying for a visa and tell you their plans. If that is how they are combatting terrorism... well I am speechless.

Who do they think they are, that's what I am wondering...

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P.S I am doing blogrounds asap! Been too busy.


High-tech addicts

>> Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Happy new month and new week people.

Me myself and I am very exhausted these days, I feel somewhat brought down today. I hate that because I firmly believe in being positive and thankful. Nothing else is healthy for the spirit. So I need to snap out of this ASAP.
I am just so tired of my back problems. Since I started going to physical therapy there's been no change at all, infact I've gotten worse. I start this hopeless thinking "is this going to last the rest of my life?" - I've had it for over 1 1/2 year now. It's really, really bugging me almost every moment of every day. On top of that, the therapist forbid me from any physical activity and that SUCKS. I am yearning to get back to my fitness. I have no problems with my body but I feel like crap. My body isn't supposed to be cracking and giving me problems at this age. I have also discovered that the more my operated finger heals, the worse it looks (i.e it's giving me more and more trouble) so it looks I have to operate AGAIN. My massacred finger. My corned beef finger. Lol. Oh, and yesterday I tore out the piercing in my nose by accident. Talk about PAIN. It was halfway out, halfway in, bleeding. I needed help to push it back in. Now my nose is all runny, tickly and sore.
What else? I think I am starting to panic about quitting my job and starting school again. I'm not sure how I am going to deal with that serious lack of money. I was just on facebook and saw a correspondance between two of my friends:

A's status update: Can someone please invite me out for dinner?
B's comment: Oh, I would love to, but I have nothing except chinese noodles to offer. Correction; Can someone please invite US out for dinner?
A: Shall we start dancing for money?
C's comment: I'll pay you 5 kr (like 5 cents) to watch!
B's comment: Cool, then I can buy another packet of noodles!

Need I say more?

But hey, I am ultra-responsible, I am sure I will make the most out of my money cuz I'm like the best money-saver ever *trying to convince myself there'll be no problem*
Yup. Now I feel concerned fine!
On a more serious note, I realise I really shouldn't complain at all. *Slap on the hand*
I am BLESSED for this opportunity. Period. Snap out it already. Does anyone else experience that? Having this sudden panic-like pattern where you just start worrying about everything?

Changing subject, isn't that plane crash in the Atlantic just awful? Every plane crash further strengthens my fear of flying. It's so absurd, I used to love flying. Actually my dad is a pilot. He never worked as a pilot, but he has the certificate and all. So does my brother who for some reason just did it for fun (?). Whenever I travelled as a little girl, I didn't care for the travelling, only the flying. Especially take-off. I wanted to fly to space, even. Now, what has happened to me? I am scared as a rat. Growing up is no good o. (Does rats ever get scared anyway?)

Changing subject again (after all this is a random post) I'm proud to say I am not addicted to any of the recent hypes of the internet. I am not on Twitter, only on Face, but not really that active there. I was a bit tempted to get on twitter, but I don't know who I would TWIT with. The only thing I might be addicted to is blogging. But I don't have any problems getting off for days at a time. So does that really make me addicted?

Here's a cartoon for you. Can you relate?

Click to enlarge.

Right. I am off to truly enjoy my noodles.

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