About that Super Woman Cape...

Hi Loves,

It has been Six months since I last put up a post! With the passion I have for writing I thought I would be here every other day. Boy was I wrong. A lot has happened these past months… as time goes on, I will reveal all that has happened. First of all… I went and got myself a job! Yes I mean a proper 9-5. For the past three years I had been working from home doing some freelance Legal work (a tenancy agreement here and there, incorporation etc). So here I was, sitting pretty when my husband (hereinafter referred to as my SO) referred me to a Job advert. I thought why not? To be honest I wasn’t mentally prepared for a job at the time but you know what they say about best laid plans? Less than two weeks after I submitted my CV I was called.  My first task before the interview was to coin an essay on any topic of my choosing within the parameters of the Insecurity in Nigeria (in the Maritime, Security, Oil and Gas or Economic sector). Boy do we have Insecurity problems in this Country. I chose the one area I was most passionate about; maritime. See brethren as soon as I received the email about writing an essay with maps and everything I just knew this Job was for me. Everything happened so fast and before I knew it I was in training. I thought my life had come full circle as I had everything I wanted. I was none the wiser. Folks, the stress nearly killed me. There was no escaping the horrendous traffic except if you’re my SO and your office is super close to where you live. I seriously do not know how people are not raving mad in this Lagos. 

Hitherto I would wake early only to make breakfast and kiss my Boo off to work and nestle in for a snug sleep and work at my own time. An Agreement here; or a Cupcake order there. Lagos traffic changed my life people of God! It seemed whatever time I woke was certainly not early enough for these Lagos hustlers. I would meet traffic whether I left the house at 6.00 am, 0630 am or 8.00 am. Gridlock traffic Lagos can be random like that; sometimes an accident would mean you’re on one spot for the next 40 minutes.

Suddenly I was being made to face my fears in a hundredfold. Waking up super early and driving in bumper to bumper traffic without scratching my car. If you ply that Lekki epe expressway every morning you know what I’m on about. Never mind that these Lagos drivers drive like they’re in the jungle. My people, madness abounds. Listen, you cannot pick one lane and drive peacefully in this City. No there is always one driver swerving into your lane without so much as indicating. I also think our good Lord taught me the tenets of Patience in my new 'hustler' life. I would play a full album of Don Moen while in Traffic and have time to change to Bob fitts and I still would not have reached my office. Ehen did I mention my office was in Yaba? Yes. It had to be Yaba. So that this woman that had not fully conquered driving in this mad place would now not only contend with mad people on the road but also drive on Third Mainland Bridge to and fro every day. (Thank you thank you I’m ready for my Super woman cape now). Getting into work mode was also one hell of a task. I would feel sooooo sleepy during lunch break that it’s a wonder I didn't lose my mind those early months. By 3 pm I felt the shards of my control threatening to rip apart. How long could I do this bikonu? Was this what being a career mom was all about? Mbanu. Yet I hung in there. Six months after, I’m still there.

However my greatest worry was leaving my child.  I had been Dee’s primary caregiver for 20 full months without help. In human speak that’s one year and 8 months. I had gone crèche/school hunting (that’s a post for another day). I reckon I visited any and every structure known to cater for children. I compared and contrasted to the point of giving myself a migraine. In the end I chose the one that my spirit agreed with. It was a herculean task the first day I dropped off my child in School. He is a very bubbly child and the colorful place had him mesmerized so he didn't cry much but I felt like a wicked wicked stepmother leaving him with “strangers”. I thought about him allllllll day. His laugh, the way he would call me ‘mommy’ my son is very affectionate so I especially missed his cuddles. Nothing could assuage my feelings of guilt not even when his Head teacher emailed me pictures of him at school. In fact he looked so well settled that I even felt pangs of jealousy at how easily he had moved on from our daily routine. Could I ever get through this? Yes I did. Was it painful? Gut wrenchingly so. However, I have learned so much about myself, my strength and my purpose in these past six months. I’m still on the road there but I do know now that anything (almost anything anyway) is possible once you set your mind to it. You know what they say, if you can survive in Lagos, you can make it anywhere. Hello world I’m ready…

“If you can’t fly then run

If you can’t run then walk

If you can’t walk then crawl

But whatever you do, you have to keep moving forward”

Martin Luther King Jnr.

Saturday Morning.

Hi loves,

How have y'all been? I apologize in advance for this post. It is one very dear to my heart. And as such, would be long and devoid of structure. I've tried to sit and synchronize my thoughts but each time I begin, I find that I'm all over the place. Almost as if every thought is straining to be heard. I was raised to be big on Easter celebrations. We usually go all out. However, this past Easter will resonate for a long time in my heart.  Why? I crossed off number 8 on my "lifetime to do list".

The thing about dreams I've come to realize is this. What gets one person up in a twist does absolutely nothing for the next person. So while I might be positively ecstatic about what I'm about to share, you might just roll your eyes. Roll or not, here goes.

My family and I moved to Abuja in the late 90's. One of the most vivid memories I have of those days are of Saturday mornings. Anyone growing up in a Nigerian household knows how intense Saturday cleaning is. My Mom would ensure we covered every nook and cranny of the house. On those mornings, my Mom would play different gospel albums to "aid" in the task... Now I think it was to forestall any frowning faces as you listened to someone belt out just how much God loves you. Tsk tsk. Some days that tactic worked, other days we would carry the longest faces. To be honest though, not only did the music help you to seamlessly move from chore to chore, it also ministered to your spirit. Over the ensuing months we found that we collectively had a favorite: Don Moen. There was just something soothing and comforting in his voice. And over the years it became a norm to hear the loud sound of Don Moen's music on Saturday mornings in my house. I carried this norm with me all through secondary school to University. To this day in my own home now, I play gospel music while I'm cleaning. And when Don Moen comes on, I push repeat.
Watching Don Moen perform live was firmly on a list of things to do while I'm alive.

Now while I know that Don Moen has frequently visited Nigeria, I always seemed to just narrowly miss him. That changed this past Easter Sunday. I heard he would be worshiping at a certain church and I just stopped everything I was doing. I knew I would certainly be there. By God I would!

For someone who loves to write, words can't really express the depth of feeling I experienced that Sunday when I watched him walk to take his place at the piano seat. He began with "mi Corazon". And my soul literally sang, my spirit shouted. I silently prayed he would perform my favorite songs of his. Guess what? He did.

The service continued and then Don Moen took to the stage again. This time he sang “Arise". I cannot count the number of times I've sang along to that song early in the morning while I cooked breakfast. I sprang to my feet and sang along till my voice was hoarse.
By the time he started singing “Be it unto me" I had been transported back to my teenage years. The sense of déjà vu was so strong that I felt like I was standing outside of myself and watching. Incredibly, I was standing next to my sister. Maybe this was what heightened the nostalgia. You know, some things are predestined. I'm still thankful to whoever wrote the script. That my sister would be in Lagos on Easter Sunday with me, and we would watch Don Moen sing together for the first time just leaves me speechless and deeply deeply thankful. We exchanged glances and I knew the same memory had filtered through our hearts. We were 13 and 15 again, and it was a Saturday morning of trying to put our new home in order.
"Be it unto me “in particular was a song that represented so many things to us. The phase in our lives when we were thankful for moving from Yola, and yet wishing for more, and still utterly trusting God to have his way in our lives. That period, where we said “be it unto me, according to your word", and truly believed it. That song took us through some pretty rough times. To hear Don Moen sing it live is a feeling I will treasure for the rest of my life.

I was struggling to keep it together at that point and then he sang "Thank you Lord". It was all too much. That song for me is a song I always sing when I feel a deep gratitude to God for all he has done in my life. And then the floodgates opened for sure when I heard the instrumentals of “He never sleeps, he never slumbers “waft through. I looked like a mess for sure. Singing out on top of my lungs and wailing at the same time. I was past caring. While I tried to cry with dignity at first, I just lost it midway and sang-cried to my hearts' delight. I love that song with all of me. The words to that song are everything. It says    “when you've prayed every prayer that you know how to pray... Just remember that God is here and the answer is on its way... Our God is able, he is mighty... He is Faithful..." What a reassuring song.
And then just when I thought I was recovering, he closed with “when it's all been said and done". Brethren that is, one of my favorite songs EVER. I knew right there that I would never be the same again. This experience would stay with me till my dying day. I left church that day with a smile no one could wipe off and a spring in my step, and in my heart, a prayer for Don Moen. A man God has blessed with the power to minister through his songs. He would never know how his songs have in some way, shaped who I have become. 

Dreams come in different forms. Some are gigantic, some really infinitesimal. Some take our breath away just imagining it. Some we relish the thought of it happening. For me, this was all of the above. I knew it was within touching distance but I didn't fathom the emotions it would evoke in me. I felt goose bumps from the start to finish. I don't know what your dreams are, but I do know this. Be they big or small, hold on to them and one day, they will come to pass.

“... only what I've done for Love's reward, will stand the test of time..."

- Don Moen.

Mothers' Day...

Hi Loves.

Life got in the way of writing. However like the Terminator would say, ''i'm backkkkkkk".                                               

I wrote this exactly two years ago when i was still spotting a growing bump. i remember feeling such a rush of love for the baby within . However, i had no inkling of just how much Joy that tiny being would flood my life with. That tiny being is now a year and 6months.

i thought it fitting to post this as it is Mothers' day week. Yes. I said week. 

Please enjoy. 

I found myself at a Mothers’ day event at a children’s school. (At my sister in law’s bidding seeing as I was to be a mother soonest myself). I went there with the mindset of a spectator and not necessarily, a participant. The first few presentations went on fine enough and I cheerfully (dutifully) clapped when my nephews showed up on stage.

An hour later, an age group of 8-10 came on stage to sing a song to show appreciation for their Mothers. The lead singer was an adorable bubbly looking girl. So cute to look at with the voice of an Angel! My eyes were fixated on this little girl who couldn’t be more than 8 singing so heartily on how much she loved her Mother. And next thing I hear, their teacher saying ‘’the pupils are going to go round still singing and dance with their Mothers…’’ I quickly felt exposed…I mentally counted the number of students singing and the number of Mothers present and I concluded I would be exposed for the fraud that I was standing there without a child. All of a sudden, I felt before I saw, a chubby set of arms go round me in a warm embrace. I turned quickly to see the beautiful lead singer holding on to me and still singing, my arms automatically went round her and I hugged her a little too tightly. She didn’t seem to mind and smiled broadly, her singing even sounded happier…in that moment, I loved that little girl with a love soooo strong I could have sworn she was mine. And the way she smiled into my eyes, singing directly to me, I could tell I had become her Mom in those few minutes. I kept expecting her to disengage and go to her Mom as a quick glance around told me most students were wrapped in their Mothers’ embrace.

All too soon, they were ushered back on stage and I reluctantly loosened my hold on her. Afterward, I went all out and ditched uncertainty to the ground. I took a lot of pictures of her and cheered her on the loudest when her solo presentation came on and still had time to whip out my cam coder. She smiled at me just before she took a bow. In that moment, I was certain I couldn’t be more proud of this baby any more than I could mine.

At the end of the event, i interacted with the other Mothers and made my way to the car happy I had come. And then I saw her. I beckoned to her and all traces of the bubbly girl I had watched on stage earlier had vanished. I asked her which of the women her Mom was (to thank her for letting me "steal" her child on such an important day...) She tried to force a smile but failed.

‘’she had a very important meeting at work and could not make it" 

 then after a slight hesitation, she added, " never makes it’’

I gave her a quick hug and said, ‘’I’m sure she loves you, and is very proud of you’’

She nodded and walked slowly to the car with a waiting driver, her footsteps, almost dragging. 

Almost immediately, my nephews sped out flying on me and I felt guilty hugging them and telling them how proud I was of them knowing that in the corner of my eye, “my little girl” was watching. I turned just before she got into the car with tears streaming down her face. I didn’t look up till it sped off.

As I went to bed that night, I rubbed my now fast growing bump lovingly and prayed I would never have to make any child of mine feel the way that little girl did on a Mothers’ day.

 In another six months my son should start school. I’ve never forgotten "my little girl" and i still hope to keep the promise i made to my "bump" .

“And i realized when you look at your Mother, you are looking at the purest Love you will ever know"- Mitch Albom

How Do I Love Thee?
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
						I am a poem lover and this sonnet is one of my favorite poems. I read it a lot while growing up. it perhaps shaped my love for literary works.Anyways, i just thought it appropriate to share today.

Love lives here...

Happy Valentine’s Day!

What does Love mean to you? Over the years, I’ve undergone a subtle shift in my perception of love. Where hitherto I was a hopeless romantic, now, I’ve learned that love is not just a feeling, but a way of being. Love and pride can never go together, you see, love in its very nature means dying to self. 

 Below are the different things Love means to me.

My favorite yardstick for defining what Love truly means.

 There is no other Love on earth like that of a Mother. I know being a Mom has given me more Joy than anything else in the world. 

"Unless it is mad, passionate, extraordinary love,it is a waste of time. There are too many mediocre things in life- love should not be one of them."- unknown. 

When i love, i love with every fiber of my being. Just ask my husband.lol

 

There's no love without friendship. My friends mean everything to me.

The people you work with, in your relationships and with your neighbors. Do we really show that we have a spirit of love when we aren’t with our ‘’loved ones”? Or do we reserve out sweet nature for only those we love?

Nothing motivates like Love. “I love you for trying, and I’m here for you, every step of the way”. 
 

The perfect love recipe!

My favorite past time is baking and when I'm baking,i always follow a recipe with a little bit of Mauryn's touch for that perfect balance of flavors. One ingredient without the other and you’ll either have an overly sweet, dense, too crumbly or flat dessert. I think this also applies to love.

So, go on today, and tell, nay, show somebody just how much you Love them!

“There is more hunger for Love and appreciation in this world, than there is for bread”- Mother Teresa of Calcutta.

My name is Maureen, and Love lives here.

Fear doesn't live here....

"Fear kills more dreams than failure ever will"

I used to be a fearful person. Everything scared me. Fear of rejection, fear of failing, fear of being laughed at, fear of really expressing myself without any filters. Fear of being good enough. Fear of swimming- water scared me immensely.Even fear of something as mundane as driving. Yes I was terrified, once I got a hold of the steering wheel, I felt comfortable till I saw another car approaching. Sometimes it felt more like paranoia and quite irrational at times. Did not stop the waves of fear from taking over me though. I knew fear and it paralyzed me for a long time.
You see sometimes the fear of not being accepted made me hold back so much so that some people thought I was a snob. Fear does this thing to you where you start to think maybe I'm not good enough. You may very well be the smartest/prettiest girl/guy  in the room but if you do not believe it yourself, nothing anyone says is going to make you believe it.
Sometimes I willed it away. And it left, momentarily that is... It always came back. I remember this one time my mom was returning from a trip and asked me to arrange a cab for her. I thought to myself when there's a perfectly good car parked outside? Without giving it a thought, I grabbed the keys, and next thing I know, I'm driving out to pick my mom from the airport. I did.not.give.it.a.thought. Fear thrives on self doubt. When you constantly think about your inadequacies, what you're doing wrong, how much you've failed e.t,c... It immobilizes you. And you're unable to see past your self inflicted diagnosis. Rather than recount all the things you have gotten right, how much you've grown, what you've achieved however little, fear holds you down in a stagnant box. And you find yourself riddled with hopelessness and despair. That was me for a while.

And then something happened to me. I read this bible verse, " God has not given us a spirit of fear, but a spirit of Love and of a Sound mind". Like a lightbulb moment I realized, if this fearful spirit is not of God, then where is it from?! I absolutely do not need it. And I began to not just pray it away, but actively, consciously fight it. It didn't wake up and just leave me. No, it was a long painful
process. Sometimes I felt myself falling back into those fearful patterns of, do I really need to go out? Maybe I'll just hold my peace and not say how he/she wronged me, and all other fear filled thoughts. Then I'll remind myself of this " Fear not, for I am with you, even to the end of time". You see, when the bible says the name of The Lord is a strong tower,  it is indeed. Those who call upon him are saved.
"Say to those who are fearful hearted, do not be afraid, The Lord your God is strong and with his mighty hand, when you call on his name, he will save you."
It wasn't all magic if I'm being honest. I still do not know how to swim, but I "hop " in water and I'm not afraid I'll be submerged.
I laugh at myself now, and quite often too. So if people laugh, that's okay too. I don't take myself too seriously in other words. I've come to accept that not everyone is going to like you. In fact, not many people will genuinely like you. And that's fine too. Know this and move on. In the past I'd find myself really inconveniencing myself to make someone else happy. I still stick out my neck once in awhile, but I don't kill myself over it. I do what I can, go the extra mile I'm able to, and just let it be.

People are going to reject you. Be it in the form of " sorry, but at the moment, you do not meet our requirements"..... Rejection will come. Brace up and take it all in your stride. I have, and I'm the better for it I guarantee you! Sometimes rejection is a good thing too. I have no examples but I know it can be. Positive thinking!
Failure is also not a bad thing entirely. It just means you had the courage to try. All you have to do is pick yourself up, and try again. I'm learning that just because I failed at something doesn't mean I'm a failure.
The fear of acceptance exists mainly in your head. Whether people accept you or not is their problem, not yours. I've accepted myself, flaws and all. It's just extra if you do. It is very liberating to love who you are.

Now, I'll never be a loud person, but I say exactly how I feel. When the opportunity presents itself, I
speak the truth in love. And I'm no longer afraid of how it would make me look. You don't have to be obnoxious and rude to be bold. As gentle a dove but firm and true to who you are also works! I'm not afraid to try new things, if I'm not good at it, I'll try something else. I'm meeting new challenges one day at a time, worrying about nothing but praying about everything. My life has never been better.

It is natural to have little fears, however, I do not allow them to dictate how I live my life. The only legitimate fear I have now, is the fear of The Lord.

One of my favorite gospel songs is "imagine me" by Kirk Franklin. It just ministers to my spirit. There's a line where he says " thank you God for allowing me to see myself the way you see me."

My name is Maureen and fear doesn't live here... Anymore.






"You are enough,
You have enough,
You do enough".

Procrastination doesn't live here....

Hi Everyone, welcome to my maiden post!
After what seems like eons and a half, I've begun my very own blog. I don't know anyone else who has struggled with procrastination like I have. I wouldn't call it laziness, but I certainly put it off a lot! Well, I've got great news! Procrastination doesn't live here no more! Moved out for good ( yes and amen)
I've loved writing since I was a little girl. I used books as my escape from reality for the longest time... I think to this day, i still do. There's just something so enthralling about an interesting read. I particularly get very attached to characters in a book. And if I don't like how the story ended, it stays with me for weeks while I make up an end for myself. I don't know, it must be the hopeful romantic in me. I grew up reading "Nancy Drew", all Enid Blyton's books, Charles Darwin, Ernest Hemmingway,  "Archie and Veronica" comics, and Macmillan books. My favorite books were written by Chinua Achebe, I enjoyed how he captured you from "Things fall apart", to " No longer at ease", to "Anthills of the Savannah" to "Man of the people", I treasured these books. Maybe that's why I excelled at Literature. I always knew I would grow up writing. Only, I didn't.
Yeah I wrote articles here and there... But nothing life altering. I remember the article I wrote for the now defunct "True Love" magazine. Seeing what I'd written in print gave me joy like no other! Life got in the way and writing took a back seat.  However, here I am. Back to my first love!

I write pretty much like I read. All pervading! Here, you'll get posts about a woman desperately in love with God,  a woman who recently discovered she doesn't just love eating desserts, but making them as well. A hopeful romantic who believes all good things will come at the right time! In friendship and in love... Also about the fashion and style I'm drawn to, even the academic in me will surface sometimes... Nothing will be spared. Perhaps parenting 101 too, and maybe Marriage 102..

My name is Maureen and I'm a recovering Procrastinator. *cue, Hi Mauryn*