Discovering Your ‘True Truths’

You are so beautiful – from the inside out, You’re a breath of fresh air, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, you’re so smart, I could stare into your lovely eyes all day, your smile makes my heart glad.

These are words of endearment that make me so happy. They may be true, or not. Someone might just be buttering you and I up to be served breakfast. But, it’s always super duper to be complimented.

Choosing to accept these words could have the capacity of making your happiness sky-rocket in those moments. Meanwhile, even if you consider them to be clichés, the good laugh you also get, is medicine for your soul.

You could be at a place where you feel like, the light at the end of the tunnel might have died, or better days are too far off. There might be no fight left in you and what is left of your hope, just a flicker. I’m quite sure that a compliment still stares something up inside of you and words which you consider to be true, if spoken to you, could revive your dying spirit.

Elation.

Although, most times, we’re the architects of own stress and depression. We tell ourselves how bad we are at things, how inadequate we are in life, how it’s our fault that our stars haven’t aligned and how possible it is for things to go awry, even when we’re having a good day. Frankly, it might not be totally our faults, as the media and social media paints pictures of what our lives should be like at certain stages, for us.

However, these are the false truths that we make our hearts believe. Causing us to miss the bigger picture – the little benefits we’re loaded with, daily. In hindsight, the culmination of these seemingly little things, make up the ‘BIG thing’.

More often than not, this also happens in my own life. But I came to a realization recently, call it an epiphany even. The truest truth I know, is God’s word concerning my life.

The Bible is a powerful tool for me and my journey in this world. Amidst all the unpredictabilities, I know that God has given me all I need for life and for godly living. If I know that there are no truer words for me than these, I can’t be overwhelmed by the faux truths that my mind conjures up.

So, when I am burdened by the lies of my heart, I confess that; I am saved — a child of God(Gal. 3:28, Rom. 10:19); I’m beautiful — a spec, if I may (Ps. 139:14); I have love that nothing can come between (Rom. 8: 38–39); I have a good future and a hope (Jer. 29:11), things are working together for my good (Rom. 8:28); I have direction and wisdom (Prov. 4:11).

I’ve found my “True truths” and they’re also true for you. I hope you embrace them too.

Yours Truly,
Favour.

Dear Sir

Demi Lovato – sorry not sorry

When I was 7 years old, there was this ‘Pastor’ man that usually came to our house, He was a family-friend, but his hands wandered to weird areas of my body whenever no one was watching. I didn’t understand what was going on, but it just didn’t feel right.
“Baby”, my mum would say, “Won’t you greet your Uncle?”. With fire burning in my eyes, I’d do the formality. She wouldn’t notice, because my ‘uncle’ would pat my back chastely.

Soon, the ‘Uncle’ in my neighbor’s house also took an interest in my undeveloped 9yo body. Cringing, I’d always manage to escape before he could do more than pat my bum or caress my arm in the empty hallways. Then, he’d call me into his room to send me on errands. But my innocent mind quickly got alerted to his schemes, and my fight-or-flight response kicked in.

When I turned 14, and the working class ‘Uncle’ in the flat next to ours, groped my breasts one Saturday, It didn’t make sense to me. Midlife crisis and unemployment could be factors, but this – maybe it was my fault.

I’m a grown woman who knows better about sexual harassment, but deep down, I still blame myself for the times I was stupid enough to draw attention to myself, enough to let those filthy men touch me.

I’m a wreck, Sir. But I’m not sorry that when Mr. Wale from Accounts held my waist in his office, I kicked him in the groin, and spat in his face. It was a ripple effect. This should be a ‘letter of apology’ for ‘harassing my superior’. But, I’m not sorry, Sir. I’m tired of making excuses for filthy men like him and wondering what I did wrong.

Kind Regards.

Dusk

Ajibola Adetomi – Prince of my heart, the man who would always give me butterflies.

I remember how hard I laughed on the day you told me that you were of a royal bloodline. My world!

And how I told you that beyond all you ego, you should sit down and think about the fact that you bore a woman’s name — “Bola”. In those moments, you’d laugh your heart out and tell me what a fool I was for not knowing what I had until I’d lose it.

I agree Bola, I am a fool. It’s always been you, it’d always be you.

It’s 05:00pm and I’m back from my teaching job, finished off with folding and putting away the laundry, and dinner is almost ready. I’m standing by the living room window, the place where I’d usually watch you return home.

I’ve always loved living in the suburbs – especially this close to an airport, the sound of the aircraft flying past the quiet neighborhood soothes me. Our friends said it was lonely, but I was never one with a flair for the “lively”. “The peace and quiet is a welcome vibe, It let’s me think and pray without distractions or disturbances. Also, anywhere I am with Bola, is home.” I’d say.

On the day you left the house – our house, I knew beforehand that the tide was changing and the quiet was suddenly unnerving. The reason why you left is too hard to recount. How did I let them get into my head? Anyways, let bygones be bygones right?

I hate that I saw you today and the butterflies fluttered in my belly. It’s dusk, and there’s a loneliness that broods over this house. Just like it’s been for the past 18 months, the house is too large and the bed is so cold without you in it. I agree Bola, I am a fool. It’s always been you, it’d always be you.

I stand here wishing there was something I could do to make you return to me. But, in life, some people move on faster than others. Should I count my loses or keep hoping that someday soon, you’d return to me?

Wishing For What could-have-been..

Standing beside his hospital bed, her hands in his. In a moment so tense, his voice echoed in the almost empty room; “I’m sorry for not being the best husband Lola, you deserved better than I offered you.” He paused and took deep breaths as if, to regain his strength. Then he continued, “He would have been a better husband. Bayo loved you as surely as the dawn followed the night. Yet you stayed with me all these years, knowing fully well that I’d always be second best to him.” As he took another pause, she looked away from him and studied the room.

She could say it wasn’t his fault but Her mother’s. But she’d be kinda-sorta-lying. She only agreed to marry Him because Mama had forbade her from marrying Bayo. And He had been the only man who had managed to win her mother’s approval with his charms and well, Money. She blamed them both and blamed herself a little for not putting up enough fight.

Her gaze wandered back to the bed and the look in his eyes told her that he was sorry. He’d been sorry for this last few weeks of his life now and she wished that his last days were spent in a better way. “You know I actually loved you Lola. I know you never totally loved me back, but I did you.” She couldn’t agree with him more. Truly, she had two children for him but she never really stopped loving Bayo. He managed to squeeze her hand a little. A gesture that meant he knew her thoughts were running wild and he was done talking. Death was staking it’s claim on him already and she wished she wasn’t thinking of another Man, right here beside her husband’s death bed.

Letters to Abba. (I)

Bundled up in my heart, I began to put them on paper. Someday soon, I hope to give them to you..

Dear Abba,

It’s another day and this breath I still have is such an amazing gift. You woke me up with your love again and I read from another of your letters to me and I’m overwhelmed by your promises. It’s beyond mind-blowing that each morning, there’s new mercy, new grace and fresh blessings! If this is how it feels to be loved by you, I never want to lose my way again!

Your daughter,
Ohjae.

THE DIARY OF A DEPRESSED GIRL. (Part 2)

There was a sudden change in the aura of the room as 20 seconds passed by with no one making a sound. I couldn’t help but think about the reason why I had forgotten to lock the door. I glanced at the expressions on each person’s face and it felt like my heart was being squeezed by an invisible hand. Before either of them could mutter a word, I dropped the bottle and ran into the bathroom!
I’ve never been one to express myself, which is why I ran away from the conversation again! I just sat in the pool of water that felt like my own blood. Trying to think about how dead I’d have been if Ruthie and Kike had not entered the room when they did.
“We know you can hear us Tami! You can’t stay in there forever you know”.. Arms wrapped around my knees, back pressed against the bathroom wall, I tried to gather my thoughts. But again, they got disrupted by my friends..
“Please come out. You can talk to us!” Ruthie said. But I hate her undertone.. I do not want to be pitied!
So, I let the noise from the shower and the chaos in my head drown out their voices.. That was when the insidiousness of the rape dawned. For the first time in months!
Sitting there as time swept by, I accepted that I am depressed and that I need led time to get through it. As hard as it’d be to stay on the positive side of my mind. The rivalry side! It would be alot harder to talk to anyone about my condition.
But for the sake of my mental health, I’m willing to give it a try! I want to keep an open mind. But I guess it’d start with me opening the Bathroom door!

The Diary of a Depressed Girl. (Part 1)

Two weeks ago, My mum stopped by my campus, Her exact words were; “look how skinny you’re becoming Tams! Are you broke? Or on a diet? “. Well, it was an innocent remark that left a mark in my mind.
Some days later, the cute guy from GST class said I needed to loosen up. But, he didn’t know about my story or the fact that I thought that “Love was too invasive”.
All these, coupled with the constant reminder by my friends, that I had become “Too antisocial” and “A Bore”. I guess it all just got so overwhelming..
Oh! How angry I was!
8 months! Yet the closest people to me couldn’t tell that I was loosing it. I had been floating around, in a bubble of insecurity, shame, guilt and frustration. Still, no-one could hear me calling out for help!
I desperately needed to prove them wrong! To show them that I was okay. And I was a totally normal girl.
Maybe I should’ve been grateful that I didn’t get pregnant and that my rapist didn’t have an STD that I could’ve been infected with. But, I hated myself! I also hated that I was such a coward who couldn’t end her mystery by taking her own life!
I didn’t think there was any good in this world or that I could ever truly be happy again. However, I was so scared to die!
Maybe it’d have been easier if the grim reaper took me in my sleep. But, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much pain it’d cost my loved ones.
So, yesterday, the voices in my head convinced me that I’d finally be free if only I could end it. If I could end my life! I succumbed.
At the verge of carrying out my mind’s plot, right at the center of my shared apartment! As I raised the bottle of sniper to my lip, My friends walked in!…

To be continued…

The Dilemma Of Guilt.

You got this Stella! You’ve got to do it!”
“One more step and you’d be inside the sanctuary. Way better than last time. You go gurl!”. She felt a rush of adrenaline and then, almost as quickly as it came, it was replaced by another feeling.. A very familiar one – Guilt and uncertainty.

It wasn’t the first time this was happening. Last week thursday, she pulled her car over in the church’s parking lot and then lost what little courage she’d mustered earlier. In as much as She wanted to make things right, She couldn’t bring herself to talk to anyone, not even God, about what was eating deep into her core.. She was ashamed, felt too filthy and as a matter of fact, in a state of tumult. Her actions were reprehensible. However, she could use a little peace before word got out.
She couldn’t pinpoint where everything went sideways.. One moment Stella was an innocent real estates agent, a novice. Her boss said she had potentials.. The next, she was a criminal of sorts. The original course of her life had been lost in just one encounter with Chief Talabi.

As she continued to reminisce on the past week’s activities, on what a different person she’d been, She snapped out of limbo and felt overwhelmed by compunction again. Her chest tightened and She panicked! Turning around to run back to her car, She bumped into Reverend John!

“So sorry Sir!” she repeated hastily, She needed to get away from this place. And fast. “Are you okay? Stella?” the minister asked, as though he’d seen through her facade. “What brings you here? I’ve been seeing you around frequently. But you never seem to enter”… “Shoot! how do I escape this?” She thought. She didn’t want to add to her guilt by misleading Him. But, she also didn’t want to tell him about her troubles..

Stella was caught in a dilemma. But the decision would determine her freedom from this weight of guilt.. It was up to her!

@TheOhjaeseries

The menace of grudges

On a normal day, this was supposed to be good news. He was supposed to be overjoyed at what the doctor just said. Or didn’t he just say that his wife was 6 weeks pregnant? And that both his wife and the baby were in a stable condition?…

But today wasn’t any normal day.. Today He, Arch. Dare had given his pregnant wife a beating that almost ended her life. It was another one of their series of endless arguments.. “Know your place, I am the man of this house and whatever I say is final!” He warned her to stop yelling at him and just listen.. But Goma, as stubborn as ever, wouldn’t listen. Before he knew it, he was hitting her again.. He couldn’t stop himself, his impulse was to give her a thorough beating to prove that he was the man of the house and to shut her up. “What insolence!” he spat out as he walked out of the room. Anger abated, Ego fed, he left her lying on the floor. He couldn’t care less.

It had been 10 minutes since he left Goma in the living room.. He didn’t hear her sobbing or cursing. She didn’t even come at him like she normally did. As hard as it was to admit it, he was worried about her… His demons were soothingly telling him that she was fine and there was no need to be worried. But, the love he had tried so hard to bury deep down in the mess that made him up was already pulling him up his feet and pushing him towards the door..
There she was on the floor where he had left her lying.. Passed out.

Pause,

Weak pulse…

Skip.

He was pulled out of oblivion by the call of his name.. Did you hear what I just said? The doctor asked. We’d be keeping her under close watch for a couple of days to ensure that she’s totally fine. We’d make sure your wife’s stay here is comfortable Sir. With that, he was gone.

As He bent his head in a deep sigh, He found a name for what he was feeling, it wasn’t Joy or grief, it was Guilt! Even though the voices in his head kept saying that she was fine and there was no need to be worried, that she deserved what came to her.. He knew better.

He had become the monster he once saw his father as… This was really unforgivable! His animosity played before his eyes as he realized what a hypocrite he’d been all along.. hating his father for all he did to mum, yet letting that massive weight of insecurity and anger haunt Goma. ‘If only he’d made peace with his past’ he thought.

@Ohjaeseries.