tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35139926005514803782024-03-05T16:19:29.522-06:00The Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom LIFE, LOVE and everything in between...through the eyes of a mother. Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.comBlogger153125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-79829456352349919192015-12-25T21:55:00.002-06:002015-12-25T21:56:30.343-06:00Merry Christmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicXnOnR-cARSuHifF5DhS8U8Tl8ynzKZsBN7Xid4cmqoSckzocgbRRud1_bvK8xp_AJKFuNNk7ZVRkHSVEa9p-ldG_LGGvEBbVTqhWc6h4geSkdXRkgoihU7BXAQc2CA0IBFZpctt4JdCv/s1600/Merry+Christmas.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicXnOnR-cARSuHifF5DhS8U8Tl8ynzKZsBN7Xid4cmqoSckzocgbRRud1_bvK8xp_AJKFuNNk7ZVRkHSVEa9p-ldG_LGGvEBbVTqhWc6h4geSkdXRkgoihU7BXAQc2CA0IBFZpctt4JdCv/s320/Merry+Christmas.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Hope you are enjoying this holiday.<br />
<br />
This is a quick one, just to wish you unending joy, good health, unprecedented breakthroughs and more...this season and always.<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-21168379811626853652015-11-17T18:00:00.000-06:002015-11-17T18:00:15.362-06:00An Owl or a Brother / Sister, Which Would You Pick?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeYoveTdXWFSAONUfFo3f4__zXd43sF8bOyvHZVfiQdPIMNTptmfqsitxSvll9AfpUSRK3TctqL3sJ0qJlt9w4Fm_Hbs4LIB7Rpel3YXxWBGMU6oSYjelMM3xWjUfjQzR5HDqoWH4IgX2A/s1600/Photo+Collage+Maker_ikaQe0.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeYoveTdXWFSAONUfFo3f4__zXd43sF8bOyvHZVfiQdPIMNTptmfqsitxSvll9AfpUSRK3TctqL3sJ0qJlt9w4Fm_Hbs4LIB7Rpel3YXxWBGMU6oSYjelMM3xWjUfjQzR5HDqoWH4IgX2A/s320/Photo+Collage+Maker_ikaQe0.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b>'Brotherhood of the brothers' </b></div>
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<b>Vs </b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyFhdG-N41LI6YDPlJ07Nc3f0wK2I0CntufxsdvDABr5fKwdwH2v7f1ZQmH3THpL_XFMn3JAC_NInqvYbjIwxTuY8TktsvlY-uGAkSUmiG6Um0kvmiugh_AEuHPFCBAgC1VFD_fsjO_Vwf/s1600/Cute-Farm-Animal-Ball-shaped-Stuffed-Soft-Toy-Doll-Rattle-Gift-Baby-Kids-Owl-Free-Shipping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyFhdG-N41LI6YDPlJ07Nc3f0wK2I0CntufxsdvDABr5fKwdwH2v7f1ZQmH3THpL_XFMn3JAC_NInqvYbjIwxTuY8TktsvlY-uGAkSUmiG6Um0kvmiugh_AEuHPFCBAgC1VFD_fsjO_Vwf/s320/Cute-Farm-Animal-Ball-shaped-Stuffed-Soft-Toy-Doll-Rattle-Gift-Baby-Kids-Owl-Free-Shipping.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.google.com.ng/search?q=toy+owl&sa=X&es_sm=93&biw=1366&bih=623&tbm=isch&imgil=h-LaNN3qPmO_XM%253A%253BB_29E8mf2HOqAM%253Bhttp%25253A%25252F%25252Fwww.aliexpress.com%25252Fstore%25252Fproduct%25252FCute-Farm-Animal-Ball-shaped-Stuffed-Soft-Toy-Doll-Rattle-Gift-Baby-Kids-Owl-Free-Shipping%25252F1462019_2050876959.html&source=iu&pf=m&fir=h-LaNN3qPmO_XM%253A%252CB_29E8mf2HOqAM%252C_&usg=__jIjSNGME1uB8aIZ6Nop3qSvhsKU%3D&ved=0CCkQyjdqFQoTCLPj69Tgl8kCFUNXFAodG_gI3A&ei=U0VLVvPtNMOuUZvwo-AN#imgrc=h-LaNN3qPmO_XM%3A&usg=__jIjSNGME1uB8aIZ6Nop3qSvhsKU%3D" target="_blank">Uber Cute + Cuddly Owl</a></div>
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I just saw / read about the sweet little girl who <strike>innocently</strike> plans to sell her younger brother for <b>$54</b> (in exchange for a toy owl) and I couldn't help chuckling to myself. </div>
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Little Rachel would 'sell' her brother because she wanted a toy owl and because 'something in him is wrong'.<br />
<br />
Never mind that she would later go back to the Pet Store after having her fill of the beautifully quiet and trouble-free owl to see if he is still there and possibly buy him back for <b>$1</b> but just how funny is that and where in the world do these innocent thoughts and words come from?<br />
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<a href="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2015/11/13/03/2E651BFF00000578-0-image-m-10_1447386599512.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="'One dollar or two dollars or three?' Rachel says about a possible price. She later brings up $54" border="0" src="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2015/11/13/03/2E651BFF00000578-0-image-m-10_1447386599512.jpg" height="172" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3316523/Girl-tries-sell-BROTHER-buy-toy-owl-hilarious-video.html" target="_blank">Source</a></div>
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This sure made my afternoon and I'm just here, smiling to myself while wondering what poor little Jason would be doing in the Pet Store even though he is bound to have some really cool company in there.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/rj5nRUnlPMY/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/rj5nRUnlPMY?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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See those little guys up there in the first picture?</div>
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They can fight for Africa...err...I take that back, they can quarrel for the entire planet. If ever there was a contest for sibling squabbles, they would easily win, hands down or up or in each others faces, wherever.</div>
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I am 101% sure D1 would not hesitate to give D2- his <strike>annoying</strike> younger brother away, <b>free of charge</b> if given half the chance. Haha.</div>
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I bet my lil man as well as big sis Rachel have no idea yet what human trafficking is and cannot be bothered so long as the troublesome-pain-in-the-neck younger one is sent away, for a while. </div>
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On this side of the screen, the squabbles have gone up several notches and our ears would gladly take a little break away from constantly hearing D1 complain about how something is wrong with D2 because he is 'soooo' stubborn, naughty, always causing trouble, pushy, crying unnecessarily, etc.</div>
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Stay around D2 for 5 - 10 minutes and you are guaranteed to empathize / agree with D1 that lil bro is 'annoyingly' more than a handful and could definitely try the patience of the most patient and saintly elder brother but then the life of a big bro couldn't be more fun, could it?</div>
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What would I do without those annoyingly headache inducing naughtiness -from both of them, squabbles and constant telling on each other? Not much besides being bored to death.</div>
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Not that the long-suffering-supposed-to-be-more-mature elder bro is a saint too considering that he matches lil bro whine for whine and trouble for trouble on the naughtiness scale but reminding him of that would amount to taking sides with the naughty lil bro. Don't tell him I said that now, will you?</div>
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The 'fights' are sometimes easier to ignore than to break up, of course, after ensuring nobody is getting hurt with words or blows but I wonder what life was like before Abel was born bringing rivalry in tow.</div>
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Considering all, I daresay a pet owl might be the real deal -for Rachel and D1 just because it is much more fun to be with, doesn't talk back or whine, doesn't interrupt when somebody else is talking (without saying 'excuse me'), doesn't fight for paintbrushes or paints and Lego...and wait for this, an owl would be extremely respectful and wouldn't dare disobey or disrespect his 'elders' like D2 sometimes does.</div>
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But as much as trading in lil bro for a pet owl is guaranteed to be more 'fun', D1 as well as Rachel might graciously think through their actions and get the troublesome-pain-in-the-neck lil bro back before stepping out of the toy store just because they would definitely miss annoying the living daylight out of lil bro.</div>
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The something that is wrong in him might eventually turn out to be the deal maker after repeatedly enjoying some boring one-sided play / conversations with the sweet and quiet owl.</div>
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And what about all of those naughty as well as thoughtful things an owl could never ever do? </div>
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Like cheekily saying I'm sorry after being 'deliberately' naughty, joining 'forces' to gang up against mummy for some undeserved treat...chasing after big bro to 'forcefully' get a hug when it is least expected...getting in the shower together and splashing water all around, playing football together with big bro as the undisputed captain as well as referee in the long corridor, playing house with big bro as the 'daddy' of course, competing to see who finishes dinner first or who swallows the meat/fish first, etc.</div>
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An owl is fun but a younger bro/sis is much more <strike>troublesome</strike> fun, for life...here's hoping D1 as well as Rachel would agree with me.</div>
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*fingers crossed*<div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-24806466842448876622015-11-15T00:20:00.001-06:002015-11-17T07:29:20.129-06:00The Gloomy Sky that Spoke..<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVjBj1h3ySB3fbVcAPX3famTBqfHlTeJLgDEHzfgJMTvGA5aUxwyrKM78vkWrhyphenhyphenM7Jt-P9aAhD1yicltqpDj1t5RhRX7irnm_qR7nbyHYe7zgFJLEPPSVzg6jEPl78qbf1lmA4hD3tRCRK/s1600/2015-10-27+08.10.39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVjBj1h3ySB3fbVcAPX3famTBqfHlTeJLgDEHzfgJMTvGA5aUxwyrKM78vkWrhyphenhyphenM7Jt-P9aAhD1yicltqpDj1t5RhRX7irnm_qR7nbyHYe7zgFJLEPPSVzg6jEPl78qbf1lmA4hD3tRCRK/s320/2015-10-27+08.10.39.jpg" width="271" /></a></div>
<br />
I'm writing this at my break time at work amidst my cluttered desk.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, it appears as if a tornado just ravaged my work desk with the loads of unattended requests, transactions, quotes, Orders, Cards scattered all over, etc. I rather think it has less to do with having too much to do and more to do with organization, anyway.<br />
<br />
I know. You know.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
Maybe my luck is running high and you would even like to drop by one of these days so I can give you a 'tour' of the place I call home for now.<br />
<br />
That tour would not take more than 5 seconds considering that the palatial edifice I am talking about is more like a 'macro studio' with its own fair share of space...<br />
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Humor me, will you?<br />
Thank you. (*wink*)<br />
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You are however guaranteed to see more within those short 5 seconds than you would think or imagine such a 'small' space could hold.<br />
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Clothes on the pressing board, 'truck-load' of laundry inside the red laundry basket nestling in a corner at the far end of the passage, 3-day washed clothes waiting to be freed from the washing machine, hair brushes here and there, a shoe here and there, 'that' black belt waiting for the next tender-hearted human to pick it up, pencils, story books, note books, crayons, and even much more.<br />
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You're not scared much, yet, are you?<br />
<br />
Don't worry, you won't trip and you won't get your dainty foot on any mushy, slimy stuff...we've got it perfectly under control as the 'spirit' has been leading. Yeeeesss.<br />
<br />
Maybe that's also your truth as much as it's mine. If it is, then we may as well be kindred spirits and on the flip side...I'm owning my truth. I love it regardless.<br />
<br />
Maybe I've got too much to handle (like you), today. Everyday.<br />
<br />
But tell you what? The state of my desk and home absolutely matches the state of my heart. Very much so, lately.<br />
<br />
Myriads of thoughts constantly running amock, littering the floor of the mind...what to make for breakfast tomorrow or dinner tonight, how to keep my lil men entertained, how to constantly 'bend' them into shape, D1's weight or lack of, D2's stuttering, the many outstanding tasks, phone call 'debts', the business, the career, the future, the looming recession and it's unavoidable effects, skyrocketing bills, all those unlatched 'containers' on the rickety trucks always falling on innocent motorists, alarming robbery incidences, my friends needing and deserving 'fruits of the womb', little <i>Ire</i>, some doses of heaviness, cobwebs of dark stark grief...and the list goes on.<br />
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It's crazy.<br />
<br />
But I have a familiar escape...which is to (almost always) pick and go through my phone to indulge in a favorite pastime of mine...going through pictures taken by me and smiling to myself as I reminisce. In the gallery is the picture above taken somewhere at Grasmere during the last holiday.<br />
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It is an 'ordinary' picture of an 'ordinary' sky that could have been taken anywhere in the world but it spoke to me all the same.<br />
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My back on the heavy hammock, Tab poised to capture the sky at the Park.<br />
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I agree that this particular picture doesn't cut it where good / quality pictures are being rated, it was and still is not the best of (my) pictures but I liked it all the same. Just because. It's 100% mine.<br />
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It is a bit gloomy...dark clouds shielding the warm rays of the sun on a cold but (slightly) warm summer morning. Contradictory ba?<br />
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But it was only a matter of time before the sun escaped...bursting radiantly forth, bathing everyone it smiles upon with its warm glow.<br />
<br />
The picture spoke to me loud and clear.<br />
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It reminded me of a very important fact I constantly overlook in all the hustling and bustling and thinking and doing that marks each day.<br />
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It told me that if I care to look up (again), I might just catch a glimpse of the sun striving to come forth from behind the clouds... of doubt, fear, sorrow, inadequacies, insecurities, instability, lack, etc.<br />
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It told me again that <i><span style="color: magenta;">b'ekun pe di ale kan...ayo nbo ni owuro</span></i>....(if weeping endures for a night, joy comes in the aftermath)<br />
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It spoke of hope...and of sunshine coming after the rain, sometimes.<br />
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It told me to let you know that whenever those 'clouds' you know so well loom large, the key is in looking up. To Him who is able to give the sun the strength required to break free from the dark clouds ensnaring it...He'll allow the sun shine again and melt away all those thoughts and fears.<br />
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The sun will shine bright again. On me. On you. If we just look up and allow the sky to speak to us.<br />
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Have a very bright week. <br />
<br />
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<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-53947453735182702022015-11-07T13:28:00.000-06:002015-11-17T07:29:39.775-06:00Maternal Mortality: A Fatal Error...one too many<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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She was shivering and sweating profusely as her hubby stood by wiping the beads of sweat off her fevered brow.<br />
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Her brave clear eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she struggled to keep faith in line with the many verbal admonitions. As she had been doing for 5+ painfully long weeks.<br />
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Bravely enduring the pain wracking her entire being with all the tubes passed into her, the thirst and hunger...muttering to herself at intervals...praying the pain would go away...praying she would walk out of that room to be with her baby...praying the administered drugs would work the required miracle...keeping faith...<br />
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Faith...<br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />
Then the dreadful nerve-wracking cough that always shook her to the core threatening to snuff the life out of her approached even as I silently prayed it would go away immediately while patting her fevered back.<br />
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The cough heeded not my pleas as it tauntingly came, cruelly mocking our efforts and prayers.<br />
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But it came with a strange visitor this time around....the visitor whose presence was announced by the pungent smell which filled the room as she spat into the small clear bowl held out to her. It appeared that the 'pus' 'originally' draining through a pipe inserted into her, by the side...somehow maneuvered its way to her esophagus...<br />
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I knew there was trouble even as I desperately maintained a cool exterior, trying to calm down inwardly as I cling to hope....maybe this is nothing afterall...maybe she would be treated only for malaria and everything would be fine.<br />
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Hope...<br />
<br />
...only a few days back, hope was burning brighter than a million megawatts bulb as she began to take little steps round the surgical ward and down the corridor, aided by her husband...and the doctors deliberated on when to introduce oral (fluid) sips to her parched throat...after 6 long weeks.<br />
<br />
The prognosis was great, the level / rate of progress / response was astounding for someone brought in half-dead with little chance of recovery.<br />
<br />
She turned to look at me, showing me what came forth from deep within her as she held out the small clear receptacle....I motioned to 'Mi', her hubby to get the nurse(s).<br />
<br />
The nurse dutifully came but could only encourage her to hold on for the doctors as she was powerless to prescribe or administer any drug without the doctors authorization.<br />
<br />
I stared helplessly at her as cold compresses were being applied to bring the fever under control.<br />
<br />
Noon was approaching but the retinue of doctors are yet to come around for the morning ward round because the same set of doctors are handling an important surgery. They have been handling surgeries, back to back, so we were told.<br />
<br />
Same set of doctors...covering the entire surgical wards -male and female.<br />
<br />
I tried not to panic as I stole a glance at her again. Maybe 'he' could help as I whipped out my phone to place a call through.<br />
<br />
But 'he' is also busy at the hospital where he practices and would not be able to come straight away. Probably because the same scenario is playing out over there, albeit on a smaller scale. Many patients...few doctors available.<br />
<br />
Wait for the doctors, he said. They are the only ones who could properly access and prescribe or advise what to do...he could not bring in 'anything' from 'outside' even if he wanted...they wouldn't allow it and he couldn't teach them what to do as it was no longer a gynecological/obstetric case but surgical...technically they know better...I understand...perfectly...<br />
<br />
I kept hoping against hope. <br />
<br />
I looked at her again, a shadow of her radiant self. She still wore the hair she must have painstakingly made over one month ago in her cosy and colorful salon where she practices what she loves (rather than what she studied at the uni). She loved hair, make ups, accessorizing, head-gear manipulation and tying -beauty generally.<br />
<br />
She was passionate about her chosen path and was set to go places...an industrious lady, she was.<br />
<br />
Her tired eyes, clear, still full of life but no longer twinkling...her mouth, the usual smile playing at the corners had long taken flight as it could not understand why it wasn't needed as often as before anymore.<br />
<br />
Her body, battered...ravaged...with all the tubes and 'hydra' needles passing through at different points to drain fluid as well as replenish, replace and nourish in order to 'keep keeping' the raging infection ravaging her system under control.<br />
<br />
Her swollen legs which are unbelievably nearly thrice their usual size, garbed in the brown medical control stockings drawn up to her knees, gingerly rested on the foot rest.<br />
<br />
To think that just 5 weeks ago, things were completely different...she had just given birth to the little bundle of joy whom we all awaited with so much joy and love. The much awaited little angel whom I was yet to see as we battled to save the mother.<br />
<br />
The doctors, about 6 of them eventually came around, joined by more nurses...some minutes to 1pm...for the morning ward round that ideally would have been done with hours back!<br />
<br />
They are specialists -led by the chief consultant...good at what they do but encumbered by the system they operate in.<br />
<br />
Too much to do by so few...with so little.<br />
<br />
Tests were prescribed even as they laughed away the amateurish postulation that 'pus' came out from her throat. They are two different tracts...they believed...it is not possible, medically.<br />
<br />
But tests would establish what the problem was and they scribbled away.<br />
<br />
And the infection ferociously and resolutely raged on unbeknown to all.<br />
<br />
No drug could be given until tests are done.<br />
<br />
Approval for tests sought....granted. Blood samples taken and handed over to take to the laboratory.<br />
<br />
Too late for tests...Laboratory closed for the day!<br />
<br />
Even if the tests were done elsewhere, the results would have to be evaluated the following morning, by the same set of doctors who may not be able to come around till late morning or noon, again.<br />
<br />
Effectively, nothing more could be done till the following morning. Nothing more except to wait, hope and pray.<br />
<br />
She was a bit relieved as the fever relented a bit and already recovering what was left of her gait by the time I got ready to go back to work. A close friend of hers came in to check on her. She is also a nurse at a different hospital.<br />
<br />
They cracked jokes, she laughed. Her spirit was lifted once again as the fever further subsided. She said she couldn't wait to walk out of that hospital as she was tired.<br />
<br />
They urged me to go back to work and I reluctantly left after some time promising to come back the following day, a Saturday.<br />
<br />
Baby <i>Ire</i> would be brought to see her..to hold and to cheer...and I would see them both. I would get to hold my little niece for whom I bought some more pretty things from my travels earlier in the month.<br />
<br />
But she never made it till Saturday morning. She indeed left the ward, but not on her feet.<br />
<br />
September 5, 2015...shortly before dawn, she passed on. She was 30 years.<br />
<br />
She never got to suckle / breastfeed the much awaited bundle of joy. She never got to dress little <i>Iretomiwa</i> in the pretty little things she lovingly bought in anticipation of the motherhood journey.<br />
<br />
She never lived to celebrate the 1 year anniversary of her marriage which was October 10.<br />
She never lived to go back to work or to actualize any of her many dreams.<br />
<br />
I only got to see her lifeless body as they lifted her onto the cold gurney for the heartbreaking journey to the morgue...nothing changed between Friday afternoon when I saw her and Saturday morning except that she did not get up when I called...could not hear or talk to me...Hours later, I walked- sobbing behind her as they wheeled her out of the ward hoping she would defy all odds and flip the cold, metallic cover up...and rise...<br />
<br />
She succumbed five weeks after she was delivered of her baby. The infections succeeded despite all the care, efforts, resources...she just never made it. She now forms part of the sad maternal mortality statistics, in Nigeria for 2015.<br />
<br />
She was my younger sister...in law and love.<br />
<br />
It is truly heartbreaking. So heartbreaking I wanted to crawl up the hospital wall and perch there hoping to catch sight of her fleeing soul and coerce it back into the lifeless form on the bed...<br />
<br />
The only time I felt this way was when I lost my mother 12 years ago.<br />
<br />
The world came crashing down again.<br />
<br />
I was shattered into a million tiny fragments. I howled like a deranged animal. Voices raised in anguish but she did not come back. Could not.<br />
<br />
Cause of death: Infection!<br />
Caused by human error!<br />
A fatal error...one too many.<br />
<br />
All the more painful...human error...in this day and age of technological and medical advancement, in Nigeria - a developing economy...in Lagos State - the acclaimed commercial center of the nation.<br />
<br />
You see, she was 'registered' at a private hospital with beautifully great 'structures' but less than great and qualified personnel as events would show so much that they could only deliver 'promises'...of death. The hospital name belies the result they churned out...to us.<br />
<br />
She was managed at the hospital all through the 'ante-natal' period through to delivery. And then they got it wrong where it mattered most. They failed woefully and massively. It was a very costly failure.<br />
<br />
The Ceaserian Section was bungled and 'they' senselessly cut her up, leading to acute infection. Fecal matter (faeces) oozing from the sutured site, post-operation.<br />
<br />
She never recovered even though she was a fighter with a brave spirit...after two major surgeries, several transfusions, antibiotics...but in the end, we could only spend..and spend..and spend...hoping and praying she beats it but...<br />
<br />
But in all, death is not victorious...neither did the grave conquer.<br />
<br />
She is resting, albeit painful to everyone left behind.<br />
The body is gone but the soul lives on...resting up there and watching over her little one. <br />
<br />
So many maybes, whys and what ifs.<br />
<br />
Maybe she would still be here with us if my family did not go on summer vacation and hubby was on ground...maybe the CS should not have been authorized...maybe the second surgery wasn't necessary...maybe they should have registered and delivered at the State Specialist hospital instead of the private hospital where they messed up everything...maybe....maybe...maybe...maybe<br />
<br />
There are so many pertinent issues surrounding this case...from the 'Private' hospital to the renowned 'State Specialist' hospital. Those issues are as intricate as they are weighty.<br />
<br />
Incompetence...unprofessionalism...negligence...etc<br />
<br />
Litigation or petitions would not bring her back to us...baby <i>Ire</i>...husband...parents...siblings but if this could serve as a deterrent and prevent some other families suffering this way, then it might just be worth the effort.<br />
<br />
But how many more preventable deaths need to occur before the government declares a state of emergency in the healthcare sector in Nigeria? <br />
<br />
Nobody is truly secure. Nobody. Not the privileged who can afford to hop on the next available flight or charter flights to the developed countries for proper medical attention. Not the less-privileged or the 'middle-class' / 'in-betweeners'<br />
<br />
Anybody could be a victim of these inadequacies and systemic failures.<br />
<br />
What is the cost of the life of the average Nigerian?<br />
What does it take to do the right thing, at the right time and with the right tools?<br />
How long would this continue?<br />
<br />
Having ill-equipped hospitals is as good as not having any in the first place. Of what use is a specialist hospital that does not have blood in its blood bank to cater to emergencies? Of what use is an hospital with inadequate oxygen tanks?<br />
<br />
Inadequate infrastructure stares us in the face at every turn.<br />
<br />
I would never forget in a hurry few of the events that rubbed some of these inadequacies in...from sourcing for blood several times which is mostly unavailable at the hospital's blood bank and which the patients / families have to struggle to source for by themselves at exorbitant cost....to sourcing for medications / drugs...to sourcing for supplies such as latex gloves, methylated spirits, etc...to the Tap in the room / ward that never brought out water throughout...to the poorly maintained infrastructure...toilets...fans...patients' families having to clean up patients as well as their spaces themselves...things which should have been provided in the first place by the hospitals under normal circumstances, in saner societies.<br />
<br />
But the circumstances are anything but normal and our society is far from being sane.<br />
<br />
The weeks spent hopping in and out of that hospital opened my eyes to the acute inadequacies of our healthcare system.<br />
<br />
We are basically running on no steam!<br />
<br />
Beyond maternal mortality, lives are being lost daily, unnecessarily in this nation.<br />
<br />
So many questions begging answers here. The answers would do nothing to heal the wounds and there can never be closure for any family grieving a loved one in this manner or in any other manner.<br />
<br />
The pain never truly go away, regardless of how dull / dim it might grow with time, regardless of how much we believe. It is always silently and painfully present.<br />
<br />
That is why I would be taking up the campaign again from where I dropped it...the campaign against maternal mortality. In my own little way, in my corner / space on the web....hoping to create an enduring ripple...so that other families could be spared pain, agony and loss in like manner.<br />
<br />
No child deserves to walk through life without a mother's love / care...<br />
Every (wo)man deserves access to qualitative medical care, <br />
No parent deserves to outlive their child / ward in this manner...in any manner<br />
<br />
If no other woman have to needlessly die during / after childbirth to avoidable causes, then the battle is closer to being won.<br />
<br />
I believe it is possible to reduce these sad incidences to the barest minimum if not totally eradicate them.<br />
<br />
No woman deserves to give up her life just because she wants to give life to another being. This must stop.<br />
<br />
<img class="irc_mut" src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQyoUeV0d6qaS0Vd3W5mMGyZCnIjQh1tgm0rHGVzk9NxAw1yysS" height="320" style="margin-top: 0px;" width="320" /><br />
<br />
By God, it will. I believe.<br />
<br />
Can I count on you to lend your voice to the call to #endmaternalmortality in #Nigeria?<br />
<br />
Maybe our collective voices would result in a deafening sound, loud enough to spur our government to take the necessary steps and act appropriately in putting measures in place. <br />
<br />
Maybe the tiny ripple each of us would create in our tiny corner of the web would just metamorphose collectively into a massive force, enough to propel our leaders into taking the much-needed steps to safeguard the lives of our women in this land.<br />
<br />
I habour a glimmer of hope, but maybe this is more than enough to make a difference in this battle for the lives of our would-be mothers.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-34309599839320347052015-11-05T06:16:00.001-06:002015-11-06T06:25:13.886-06:00Maternal Mortality in Nigeria : Another Mother / Child Lost<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://punchng.com/2015/11/4087" target="_blank">Deceased</a></div>
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I just read this on <a href="http://punchng.com/2015/11/4087" target="_blank">Punch Online</a> and I'm tearing up right now.<br />
<br />
This sad story just re-opened the scabs of the wound my family has been dealing with in the last three months...would probably share 'my' story soon.<br />
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So heartbreaking...<br />
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When Omowumi Shonuga tapped her husband that her water had broken at 5 am on Thursday morning, being a sign of labour pain, anxiety took hold of him. Although he, Ayobanji Shonuga, was remotely happy that his second child was about to be born, he was as nervous as many men would be in that situation.</div>
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As the wife’s labour pains increased, the 33-year-old man quickly packed his baby’s things and rushed her to the Rauf Aregbesola Health Centre in Egbeda. Alimosho Local Government Area of Lagos.</div>
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His joy and hope began to diminish when he got to the health centre and found out that the hospital gates were locked.</div>
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Shonuga said, “We got to the hospital around 5 am to meet the hospitals locked. I horned and horned, nobody came out. After a while a woman came out and said there was no doctor to attend to me, that I should take her to the Igando General Hospital.</div>
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“I said it was impossible for a doctor not to be on duty in a hospital as big as this. She ignored any other enquiry I was trying to make. As I got back to my car, I saw that my wife had delivered the baby and that she was in a pool of blood and she was also bleeding. It was when I started shouting, ‘Blood! Blood! Baby’ that two nurses rushed out from the hospital.”</div>
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<strong style="box-sizing: border-box;">Moribund, grounded ambulances</strong></div>
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Shonuga related the ordeal that Omowunmi went through in the hands of health workers at the health centre last week to our correspondent, saying the hospital’s negligence had turned him into a widower.</div>
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Instead of coming to his wife’s aid, Shonuga alleged, the nurses blamed him for not shouting loud enough to have attracted their attention to get the keys to open the gate .</div>
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“After they opened the gate, I drove in. One of the attendants picked the baby, but the nurses refused to touch my wife. I asked for a stretcher to take her in, they said they didn’t have. I asked for an ambulance to take her away from there, they said they were not with the keys.</div>
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“I had to carry her upstairs with no help from them because they didn’t want to touch her. They said there was no doctor to attend to her.”</div>
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After much persuasion from him, the nurses told him to go and buy some injections and drugs that would stop the bleeding while they began stitching a cut his wife had.</div>
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“She was shouting that the pain was too much while they were stitching her but they kept telling her to keep quiet. I knew something was wrong and told them to get a doctor. They said he was on his way,” he added.</div>
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<strong style="box-sizing: border-box;">‘We cannot handle this case, take her to Igando’</strong></div>
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Shonuga said that in spite of the stitches, Omowunmi did not stop bleeding and the doctor who came in while they were cleaning her up said they should take her to the Igando General Hospital as her case was too critical for them to handle.</div>
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“ He looked at her eyeballs and said that she had lost a lot of blood and would need to be transfused but they could not do that at that moment.</div>
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“ I asked again for the ambulance so I could take her to Igando. They said they didn’t have the keys yet. It was just packed there doing nothing. It was then I asked after my baby. They kept quiet. Later, someone went out to check the room the baby was supposed to be and said the baby was no longer breathing.</div>
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“It was obvious that they abandoned the baby. I went in to carry my wife with the drip on her but insisted that they must give me a referral note and a nurse to go with me to Igando so that her case could be treated as an emergency.</div>
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“They refused until their supervisor instructed them to go with me when she heard me shouting. It took another 25 minutes before they came with a note and one of the members of staff went with me,” Shonuga lamented.</div>
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<strong style="box-sizing: border-box;">No bed space, please go to another hospital</strong></div>
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It was a similar scenario that played out when Shonuga got to the Igando General Hospital with Omowunmi around 6am on the same day.</div>
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She was rejected. Shonuga said the nurses told them to go to another hospital as there was no bed space to admit his dying wife.</div>
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“For another 45 minutes, we couldn’t get a bed. After I threw a tantrum that attracted some attention, they began running up and down and said they had created a bed space for her.</div>
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“They took her blood sample and insisted that they wouldn’t transfuse her till I had paid N20,000. We argued again that it was an emergency that they should go ahead but at this stage she was already losing consciousness. While they were trying to secure a drip for her, she died.”</div>
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Shonuga told our correspondent that he buried his late wife and his newborn baby later that day.</div>
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Omowunmi , a graduate of Accounting from the Lagos State University, died at the age of 30, leaving a three- year-old baby girl behind.</div>
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Still shaken by the circumstances that led to his wife’s death, Shonuga said he would petition authorities of the public hospitals and vowed that he would not relent until justice was served.</div>
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According to the widower, Omowunmi and his baby would have been alive if health workers at the two hospitals had given them the speedy attention they deserved.</div>
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“The most painful thing for me is that she suffered so much before she died. She cried and bled on and on, but that did not even move them. There was no doctor on duty and they could not give me an ambulance to handle her case.</div>
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“I only took her there because that was where she had her antenatal and they knew her and her health history. If I had known I would have taken her to a private hospital.”</div>
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When contacted, the Medical Officer, Alimosho Local Government, Dr. Micheal Ariyibi, said that the Ministry of Health had received a complaint and had begun an investigation into the case. The ministry, he said, would not hesitate to punish those involved in the unfortunate incident.</div>
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Ariyibi said, “The report is with the Ministry of Health already and we are trying to investigate who and who were involved. I’m assuring you that they will not go unpunished.”</div>
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The Director of Information at the ministry, Mrs. Deola Salako, corroborated Ariyibi’s claims, saying that an investigative panel had been sent to the health centres involved and any one found to have contributed to the deaths would be sanctioned.</div>
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<a href="http://punchng.com/2015/11/4087" target="_blank">Culled : Punch Newspapers </a></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-34017686883425639352015-11-01T21:00:00.000-06:002015-11-06T06:25:44.946-06:00The Love Note on the White Board<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQAf3Z-z8Fa1uDnEgz0IcVPMRsiyn8xiPpTk5EV6XZdmZLz3NEiguqU1izRU2Nt9N8WvGn7hL3IA2d9mQV8nY2AbmsfdGpmVPVNlZ9SzYayj1PDc7s6ipJWvsOGmueziUOPvGhEGAEIGMP/s1600/Photo+Collage+Maker_Au8LOr.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQAf3Z-z8Fa1uDnEgz0IcVPMRsiyn8xiPpTk5EV6XZdmZLz3NEiguqU1izRU2Nt9N8WvGn7hL3IA2d9mQV8nY2AbmsfdGpmVPVNlZ9SzYayj1PDc7s6ipJWvsOGmueziUOPvGhEGAEIGMP/s320/Photo+Collage+Maker_Au8LOr.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: small;"><i>''Sign up for parenting, and you don't get to do any other shift(s) because that's about the only shift available''</i></span></div>
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<i>D1: Tomorrow is our Open Day...I want mummy to come.</i><br />
<i>Me: No, daddy would attend because I am going to be very busy at work.</i><br />
<i>Hubby: But you know Wednesdays are usually very busy for me because I'd be in clinic throughout.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Turning to the boys: <i>Don't worry...mummy would try and come for 'your' open day, okay?</i><br />
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<i>Yeeeeeeesssssss...We want mummy to come...we want mummy to come....</i><br />
<i>Me: Okay, I will try.</i><br />
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So much for <strike>reluctant</strike> commitments...muttering under my breath, mentally rolling my <strike>huge</strike> eyes as I stroll away from the trio ganging up against me.<br />
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The afternoon sun glared harshly down in all her hot glory.<br />
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Everything appeared set for the commute; 'outside' engagements successfully reshuffled and rearranged but no remedy found yet for the desk that taunts with randomly strewn notes, the intermittent buzzing of the intercom spiced occasionally with the ping-pongy sound of new emails dropping...waiting to be attended to.<br />
<br />
Gosh.<br />
How difficult can it get to honor a <strike>reluctant</strike> commitment?<br />
<br />
Now don't get me wrong. Open Days are veeeery important but maybe the importance level is down a notch for someone who manages to go through communication books, assignments and <strike>randomly</strike> pop into classes to ask<strike> random</strike> questions, trying to check on the kids 'performances' with the teachers as time and chance happens.<br />
<br />
So you see why yours truly <strike>selflessly</strike> wanted the 'busier' parent to endure the predictably hot sun and traffic gridlock this (open day) time around?<br />
<br />
Thank you for reasoning along with me.<br />
<br />
Talking to myself...but does it make sense considering the state of my desk and everything else?<br />
<br />
Oh bother.<br />
<br />
Those boys would be disappointed if mummy doesn't show up...he said I'd try and make it and they believed and heaven helps anyone who fails to honor such a <strike>forced</strike> commitment.<br />
<br />
Okay. Even though it doesn't make much sense to endure all, like driving to the school a second time, coming back to work to finish up and then driving back after closing to pick them up but I'll just pick those keys anyway, put one foot right after the other and get out of those two doors.<br />
<br />
You see, the struggles are very real under Lagos' lunch hour scorching heat...heat so intense that ACs become mere hot fans. <br />
<br />
Oftentimes, it is easier to just ram up 101 reasons, genuine reasons why we do not have to get up and show up.<br />
<br />
But when the chips are down, those reasons would pale into miniscular insignificance. Like it smacked me right in the face on getting to my 3rd Grader's class...where I was confronted by one of the truths of my situation, proudly pointed out by my ecstatic lil man.<br />
<br />
<br />
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The white board gallantly adorned with beautifully scripted black notes and 'that' heart...'Mom I love you so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so much'<br />
<br />
And then it didn't matter anymore.<br />
<br />
None of those things I shelved to get there through the scorching sun and traffic mattered anymore as I gazed at my Pulitzer prize.<br />
<br />
That up there is it, at that moment. The Ultimate Parenting Pulitzer Award, 2015 Open Day Edition.<br />
<br />
Parenting is about the hardest but most rewarding task I've ever undertaken, seriously. <br />
<br />
You get thrown a lots of curves which includes getting up or being forced from bed..yes...showing up when it is least convenient, among other things, deluding yourself into thinking you are going on vacation but you are just geographically transferring tasks and worries...but then you have to do what you have to do because you already signed up to do this and no other shift is available.<br />
<br />
And that is not discountenancing the many times one might feel overwhelmed, beaten, battle with internal and external stress and myriads of emotions, unattended to-do lists, personal struggles, fear, insecurity, etc<br />
<br />
I'm not going to pretend that showing up this one time was a walk in the park considering that two + half round trips were made the same day and hours were lost in traffic but the joy, love and satisfaction given / received trumped the inconveniences.<br />
<br />
Neither am I pretending that showing up or taking ownership of our various commitments - which may take diverse forms and shapes - is ever going to be easy but it does have its own rewards after all, in the heartfelt thanks, the pure joy reflecting in the beautiful smiles that light up the little faces, in the sense of satisfaction and fulfillment, in little arms snaking their ways round one's necks and hearts in warm appreciative hugs, and of course the little black notes on the white boards. <br />
<br />
And I already look forward to more beautiful moments, that is if I keep managing to still the little voice of reason that keeps throwing up the whys and whats and what nots.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-35032909990926080582015-11-01T00:59:00.000-05:002015-11-01T00:59:27.039-05:00Happy New November<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
For YOU,<br />
<br />
May the heavens smile sweetly,<br />
May the sun shine brightly,<br />
May the fields bring forth abundance,<br />
May every challenge poised to break your stride be overcome,<br />
May terror be far from you,<br />
May oppression be far removed,<br />
<br />
May November be truly happy.<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-47719616851117335632015-10-25T22:30:00.000-05:002015-11-06T06:26:23.788-06:00No Longer a Slave to FearSo I was at the annual Global Leadership Summit earlier and it was loaded as usual, would <b>probably </b>share (here) some of the lessons picked up at the Summit in the coming weeks.<br />
<br />
I also got the opportunity to watch the performance of an amazing song by Jonathan David and Melissa Helser...<br />
<br />
...and I became hooked from then so much that the song has been on replay on my system ever since.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /><br />
********************************************************************************* <br />
<h4>
Verse 1</h4>
You unravel me, with a melody<br />
You surround me with a song<br />
Of deliverance, from my enemies<br />
Till all my fears are gone<br />
<h4>
Chorus</h4>
I’m no longer a slave to fear<br />
I am a child of God<br />
<h4>
Verse 2</h4>
From my Mother's womb<br />
You have chosen me<br />
Love has called my name<br />
I’ve been born again, into your family<br />
Your blood flows through my veins<br />
<br />
<h4>
Bridge</h4>
You split the sea, so I could walk right through it<br />
All my fears were drowned in perfect love <br />
You rescued me, so I could stand and sing <br />
I am a child of God<br />
<br />
********************************************************************************** <br />
<br />
I talked about my personal fears at different times previously on here and this song just about puts everything into perspective for me. He split the sea before...and He's still good at that and I'm just going to keep riding roughshod over dem fears -old and new just like 'they' marched across the sea in those days. Whatsmore? This is made possible seeing that ALL of my fears have been so drowned in His perfectly perfect love. EOD.<br />
<br />
If you have ever being plagued by fear in whatever shape or form or you are currently laboring under some kind of fear -of failure, dying, living, bankruptcy, losing a loved one, stepping out of your comfort zone, unknown, flying, eating, driving etc then this song of reassurance and affirmation is for you.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-82809423441834154772015-10-25T09:00:00.000-05:002015-11-06T06:26:48.609-06:00Hello...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUnnRMREaEAx6eHswKxX7Snj5FUbZICvseo5WpXIym0brdJUSBRZrZlwd74PljtYVXs5eCT9GvEBLWUzaMOEgh3XBIsFG73z134raBjzpGmygdAydwruKsQGt_HCXTPfza2IUgCmnIFiC-/s1600/pen-and-paper-writing-9349790-2048-1536.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUnnRMREaEAx6eHswKxX7Snj5FUbZICvseo5WpXIym0brdJUSBRZrZlwd74PljtYVXs5eCT9GvEBLWUzaMOEgh3XBIsFG73z134raBjzpGmygdAydwruKsQGt_HCXTPfza2IUgCmnIFiC-/s320/pen-and-paper-writing-9349790-2048-1536.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
So I was gone for 4 months and here I am, saying a quick hello...again. It is absolutely in order, I believe.<br />
<br />
A lot has happened in the last four months which I would still share here.<br />
<br />
But for now, this is hello...from me *in Adele's voice*...<br />
<br />
...and I'm still busy clearing the cobwebs, pulling dust covers and dunking a couple of tea bags in my newly cleaned china cup...care to join me?<br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />
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Talking about hellos and Adele, her 'come-back' is definitely Adeleish and has got the web buzzing since the Single's release.<br />
<br />
If you are a fan of love-lorn ballads, eighties-style technology (phone booths, flip phones, black and whitish scenery) and of course if you also love Adele and her amazing voice, then this might just make your day.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-72066094607870192632015-10-24T00:32:00.000-05:002015-10-24T00:32:00.375-05:00Safe in the Woods<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6AS2LaZ_f2ULv40vFFB8EalulqP8zljLRNOlOR7oVcNcF0GiAPEwDE4vW2u9rQdkFuXYqznKDY1FLrZgTVd1TE3mUjoyvAm7cAl5LgQDBewGH01U3teBSCJXVA2X8YERcuLRdEba9Ud18/s1600/20150623_123038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6AS2LaZ_f2ULv40vFFB8EalulqP8zljLRNOlOR7oVcNcF0GiAPEwDE4vW2u9rQdkFuXYqznKDY1FLrZgTVd1TE3mUjoyvAm7cAl5LgQDBewGH01U3teBSCJXVA2X8YERcuLRdEba9Ud18/s320/20150623_123038.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><br /></b>
<b>S</b>oftly she sways to the rhythm of the winds<br />
<b>A</b>s the sweetly singing birds lure with their soothing melodies<br />
<b>F</b>ar away in a distant land where no rancor dwells<br />
<b>E</b>ven as she closes her eyes in utter contentment<br />
<br />
<b>I</b>n, the melodious tunes beckon her battle-weary soul<br />
<b>N</b>o wailing could deter as she breaks free from the bonds of love<br />
<br />
<b>T</b>rust in the upward pull, she whispers as she floats away<br />
<b>H</b>olding on tight lest the singing stops and the spell breaks<br />
<b>E</b>scape, sweet soul..escape from the woods into eternal rest<br />
<br />
<b>W</b>ords, soothing but searing, brings little respite<br />
<b>O</b> little ones, smile at the winds and sway to the songs<br />
<b>O</b>ut of the woods, blissfully all will be someday<br />
<b>D</b>espairing not at the vain glories of the woods<br />
<b>S</b>afe in the woods, nobody ever is.<div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-89176511904301759372015-06-20T13:21:00.001-05:002015-11-06T06:31:11.735-06:00A Place of Refuge...A Place of Horror<img alt="CHURCH" data-img-path="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/3097666/images/n-CHURCH-Pinterest.jpg" src="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/3097666/images/n-CHURCH-large570.jpg" /> <br />
<br />
Desecration in the holy places. Horror of horrors.<br />
<br />
A long moment of silence followed as I tried to digest the latest tragedy in far away Charleston, South Carolina.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
I know, the horrors we battle daily in our land is more than enough to keep anyone occupied for one zillion lifetimes.<br />
<br />
Nonetheless, nothing could detract from the jitters, afresh that washes down one's spine on hearing and reading of such atrocities.<br />
<br />
A place of worship is to many a place of refuge. Of hope. Of refreshing. Of awakening. Of peace. Of cleansing. And so much more.<br />
<br />
How then did a place of worship become a place of easy target for supremacists?<br />
<br />
I use the word 'supremacist' loosely because anybody that feels threatened by another enough to want to get them out of the way is definitely suffering from something more than 'supremacy'.<br />
<br />
The ailment plaguing such is more like a mixture of hate (self and others), racism and psychologically induced inferiority.<br />
<br />
An ailment that could have been spotted early on.<br />
<br />
If the foundation is destroyed...<br />
<br />
A home is meant to be a place of warmth. Of nurturing. Of rest. Of love. Of bonding. Of refuge. <br />
How are the homes today turning into places where little monsters and horrific plots are birthed?<br />
<br />
On Wednesday, a young man -Dylann Storm Roof joined a bible study session inside the historic Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, South Carolina and reportedly shot nine people dead after sitting with them for over one hour studying the bible together.<br />
<br />
What was on his mind as Rev. Clementa Pinckney and the other members warmly welcomed him into the gathering?<br />
What was he thinking as he sat close to the man and gazed into the eyes of the other members of the group whom he would come to mercilessly gun down several minutes later? <br />
<br />
<br />
<img alt="Victims: Nine people died in the shooting. They are (top row, left to right) DePayne Middleton-Doctor, Tywanza Sanders, Myrah Thompson, (center row) Ethel Lance, Susie Jackson, Sharonda Coleman-Singleton, (bottom row) Daniel Simmons, Clementa Pinckney and Cynthia Hurd" class="blkBorder img-share" src="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2015/06/20/17/29CB2D3C00000578-3132670-Victims_Nine_people_died_in_the_shooting_They_are_top_row_left_t-a-53_1434816674849.jpg" height="337" id="i-31671faae49db172" width="400" /><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>Victims of a warped society...RIP, people.</i></span></span><br />
<br />
He reportedly admitted that he did not want to go through with the 'plan' because they were all nice to him and I wish he had allowed that tiny good voice to prevail. <br />
<br />
<br />
I find it particularly disturbing that the horror was unleashed with a gun, gifted him by his parent(s) on his 21st birthday.<br />
<br />
A question that has been scorching and searing my mind and which I am not likely to get an answer to is why any loving parent would present their son with a gun -not a toy one but a real .45 caliber handgun for his birthday.<br />
<br />
I admit, getting a 21 year old a gun is as brow-raising as spoiling a 'baby' girl with replicated custom-built expensive sport cars a la Range Rover and Lamborghinis.<br />
<br />
Both instances and reasoning are questionable but what do I know?<br />
<br />
What are we churning out? What are we raising?<br />
<br />
If the objective is to raise marksmen, sharp-shooters, killers and self-obsessed materialistic narcissists, then all is good. <br />
<br />
I digress.<br />
<br />
I looked at all the pictures of Dylan I saw on on the web, different pictures spanning different periods and what stares back at me tells a different story.<br />
<br />
Burning flags, posing with guns and flags, etc <br />
Sad, expressive eyes.<br />
Deep melancholic expressions that screams of a dark hideout within the deepest part of his twisted soul.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<img alt="roof" src="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/3097782/thumbs/o-ROOF-570.jpg?7" /><br />
<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/06/20/dylann-roof-manifesto-charleston-shooting_n_7627788.html" target="_blank">Credit</a><br />
<br />
If I were Dylann's mum, I would definitely be worried. Severely worried. Moreso that he was reportedly introverted for a long time.<br />
<br />
Something was not right there. And it took nine lovely people to be gruesomely sent untimely to their graves to discover that fact.<br />
<br />
The world has gone completely bonkers. The society is warped. And it starts from the home unit.<br />
<br />
I believe Dylan was not born with hatred in his heart. Nobody was. Nobody is.<br />
<br />
Nobody came to the world hating or loving anyone, the major and only concern on getting out of the birth tunnel is survival...getting in some much needed gulps of worldy air to get going.<br />
<br />
We all learn these 'vital' life skills and whatever is good / bad enough to be learnt could very well be unlearnt.<br />
<br />
No day old baby understands the difference in skin colors until they begin to develop enough to visualize and verbalize happenings around them by which time the immediate society -the family may have chosen to delete the factory settings and re-write the psychology program. <br />
<br />
Programs are written and re-written as circumstances demand. Systems are formatted, re-installed, re-set, etc but nothing beats getting it right from the get go.<br />
<br />
Today, we ignorantly create the imaginary supremacy divides that grows to gargantuan devastating proportions and wreaks catastrophic havoc.<br />
<br />
If the foundation be destroyed...<br />
<br />
It's so sad what the world has turned into and my heart goes out to all those beautiful people's families and everyone else suffering from the aftermaths of hate campaigns today.<br />
<br />
BUT... <br />
<br />
How about we go back to restore the default factory settings and prevent future 'Dylannic' tragedies?<br />
<br />
How about we start preaching the message of love right from the home?<br />
<br />
How about we drum the equality message right from babyhood and stick by it? <br />
<br />
How about we closely monitor our children / wards, become their best friends and get into their minds while they are still very young?<br />
<br />
How about we really create time to train them in the way they should go that would make for a peaceful nation / world and co-existence?<br />
<br />
How about we devote our all to this cause in order to prevent our places of refuge -the home and church from turning into places where horror is birthed and unleashed?<br />
<br />
How many more heartache and tragedies would the world endure before we understand that none is supreme and we all have the same red blood flowing underneath the white and black skins?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-16920290452267122442015-05-31T18:16:00.002-05:002015-05-31T18:16:57.792-05:00Hello June...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcye2MEALHyu7sXoJw0OQwXx1yMC6FsIH2UeQGaKKObQNYaJK9JlZDZwT08lWadEv3cDNcsoWTfGYCAJbdTudiEb8dwB3GQqv_vQ9bFjJKJsUJR8ylAgJPMZ2ds8qBlcV4hg1nDaT_wWub/s1600/a+hello+to+June.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcye2MEALHyu7sXoJw0OQwXx1yMC6FsIH2UeQGaKKObQNYaJK9JlZDZwT08lWadEv3cDNcsoWTfGYCAJbdTudiEb8dwB3GQqv_vQ9bFjJKJsUJR8ylAgJPMZ2ds8qBlcV4hg1nDaT_wWub/s320/a+hello+to+June.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.daveswordsofwisdom.com/2015/05/goodbye-may-hello-june.html" target="_blank">Source</a></div>
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This new season,</div>
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May each day be full of sunshiny blessings,</div>
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May glad tidings resound all through for you,</div>
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May peace encompass you round about,</div>
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May your barn never dry up,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
May you be established home and abroad, </div>
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May favor be your story,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
May unprecedented success be your testimony,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
May terror and oppression be far removed from you.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Happy new June, beautiful friends.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-22182015010365558312015-05-31T02:29:00.000-05:002015-11-06T06:31:44.437-06:00Another Angel Without Wings -Faces of Love (II)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGn_hR7IJkN4zbevSgCy-_w0R4AXyfpk28bIxTV7PgUm2-ntJIS_uDBg1L6NLqeJ1GdJDHeq7inc5rvQOehqztDNqJS4F2wgSIpgcCvIakWwCLhM9Kw4uwLJz-nbBofkh_d9Ul9mQ1_MR1/s1600/Nikki-Laoye-singing-with-the-children-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGn_hR7IJkN4zbevSgCy-_w0R4AXyfpk28bIxTV7PgUm2-ntJIS_uDBg1L6NLqeJ1GdJDHeq7inc5rvQOehqztDNqJS4F2wgSIpgcCvIakWwCLhM9Kw4uwLJz-nbBofkh_d9Ul9mQ1_MR1/s320/Nikki-Laoye-singing-with-the-children-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I've been thinking of the Millenium development goals and how far Nigeria is from hitting the mark with all the problems that encompasses us all round.<br />
<br />
Truth is, we may never get there any time soon if we have to totally rely on the government. I still strongly believe every child deserves the best, education being just one of the best and I'm hoping this is one of the issues the new administration gets right within the next four years.<br />
<br />
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This goes to explain why I love what some individuals are taking it upon themselves to achieve. I greatly laud what they are trying to do all by themselves. individuals like Modupe ozolua (who was featured here in the first FOL post) and now Nikki Laoye.<br />
<br />
We may not be able to single handedly tackle some of these issues we keep writing about but we can support and encourage those that are already working tirelessly to bring some hope and respite to the hopeless.<br />
<br />
Nikki Laoyes is a singer / humanitarian who has taken on the task of trying to provide care and support for displaced people in northern Nigeria. While Modupe is focused on empowering the women/mothers (from reports), Nikki is trying to get the children some basic education.<br />
<br />
Beautiful women with even more beautiful hearts.<br />
<br />
Nikki Laoye reportedly visited one of the camps (Kushingoro) in abuja and decided to do something about the education of the children in the camp.<br />
<br />
Majority, if not all of the kids at the camps have zero access to education in the aftermath of terrorists attacks in the north. They have been fighting for survival and education has understandably become an ill-afforded luxury.<br />
<br />
There are reportedly about 248 children in the Kushingoro camp with about over 1000 in another IDP camp in Benin, roaming about and doing nothing before the intervention of a 'missionary' couple who invested their personal resources to set up a make shift school in the Abuja camp.<br />
<br />
Of course, individuals are limited in capabilities and more resources are required as this is an enormous TasK in itself.<br />
<br />
Sadly, there are more children with no hope of education or a good life in other unknown / unnamed camps, thousands of them.<br />
<br />
So, beyond talking or writing or feeling sorry or sad about the situation, what else can I do to help from the comfort of my zone?<br />
<br />
The good thing is that I dont need to float a Foundation or have millions of naira before making an impact in at least one of these little angels' life.<br />
<br />
In the last couple of weeks, every individual in Nigeria or Lagos State, including yours truly spent thousands of naira on getting black market fuel to move around.<br />
<br />
Some of us cannot do without having <strike>expensive</strike> lunch at work, at least twice weekly (for the conservative). We know how much damage chicken + chips, packs of rice, Chinese cuisines does to our purses for those that indulges in them.<br />
<br />
Yeah, if we can afford all these, by all means, we should not deprive ourselves of the simple pleasures / luxuries that delights our hearts.<br />
<br />
The last time i was at Mac's store at Ikeja City Mall, I shelled out 6,300 for the Studio Fix. And now, I heard just 5,000 could make a difference In a child's life, for life.<br />
<br />
I don't even want to think about how the mothers are coping, I'm sure they Do not care about foundations or make up or the latest trend and fashion.<br />
<br />
Looking good and/or education is definitely the least of their worries where there are rumbling tummies to be filled.<br />
<br />
So where am I going with all these?<br />
<br />
You and I can make a difference in the lives of these beautiful ones who are suffering heavily for the failures of our past governments and the callousness of a perverted few.<br />
<br />
Interested individuals / organization's can make a difference by supporting the Angel 4 Life and by extension the young children in the Abuja camp.<br />
<br />
N2000 - N5,000 could hardly dent our purse eternally save for a day or two's deprivation of sorts.<br />
<br />
Donations would reportedly go towards education-related costs basically to cover provision of school materials, uniforms, books, etc for children in the camps.<br />
<br />
We can all be angels without wings in our little capacities by pulling our resources together to help rebuild the lives of these individuals who have been circumstantially less fortunate than us.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIESqbDSGpnWwVmBDhKgfWxFnihGtQWrRUiyqhvQUeXr127IGysCM_sKLngOGVHG-0nxfTrbVTVJras5bqOuXJMlya9gcJ2tc1aM37x2YAsdlkhPOhYJ3SnhtHLzHPhUw4QZx3Q_EB1IyA/s1600/ArtworkNIKKI-ANGEL-SCHOOL-FOR-DISPLACED-CHILDREN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIESqbDSGpnWwVmBDhKgfWxFnihGtQWrRUiyqhvQUeXr127IGysCM_sKLngOGVHG-0nxfTrbVTVJras5bqOuXJMlya9gcJ2tc1aM37x2YAsdlkhPOhYJ3SnhtHLzHPhUw4QZx3Q_EB1IyA/s320/ArtworkNIKKI-ANGEL-SCHOOL-FOR-DISPLACED-CHILDREN.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><b><i>Interested Individuals and organisations can help support school-related costs to cover provision of school materials, uniform and books for each child within the camps.<br />These costs are:</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><b><i>5,000 naira ($25) – Covers the provision of school uniforms, books and school materials<br />3,000 naira ($15) – Covers the provision of school uniforms only<br />2,000 naira ($10) – Covers the provision of books and school materials only</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><b><i>All donations are payable to<br />Acct name: Nikki Laoye’s Angel 4 Life Foundation<br />Account number: 0139296779<br />Sort Code: 058152081<br />Bank: GTBank (Guaranty Trust Bank)</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><b><i>Donations from Outside Nigeria can be made directly into the account via: www.worldremit.com/en/Nigeria</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><b><i>For further information and enquiries,<br />Contact Nikki Laoye’s Angel 4 Life Foundation<br />M: 08094848096<br />E: a4lfoundation@gmail.com<br />W: <a href="http://www.angel4lifefoundation.org/" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">www.angel4lifefoundation.org</a></i></b></span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-73266263894212846242015-05-30T02:42:00.000-05:002015-11-06T06:34:08.495-06:00Happy Belated Children's Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3A-rGAxJjk8WLc5wZTusSpgnEpNKO6DTAo3jPx6h399qJP3VN3dYaiSvi0Nt3ITRA5BHjWqw6saJWhbaiOT5dVv42NWfCGOW46fj5Fz3l5QApYp-MGMiuwkHtPdgV_eogggDJxV4nrIiX/s1600/417142.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3A-rGAxJjk8WLc5wZTusSpgnEpNKO6DTAo3jPx6h399qJP3VN3dYaiSvi0Nt3ITRA5BHjWqw6saJWhbaiOT5dVv42NWfCGOW46fj5Fz3l5QApYp-MGMiuwkHtPdgV_eogggDJxV4nrIiX/s320/417142.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I wanted to put up a post on children's day which we celebrated here in Nigeria on May 27 but I eventually managed not to....for the very reason I wanted to in the first place. Confused yet?<br />
<br />
You see, I was cooped up with four energetic bundles of blessing throughout the day and as much as I loved to take them out, I had to think twice and conserve the fuel we had so we could at least go to work the next day. #NotMyFault<br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />
Still wondering how sweet mum coped with 1..2..3..4..5..6..7..SEVEN children, spaced two-two years apart! My respect grows by the minute for her...If wishes were horses...she'd be here with us today. *crying emoticon*<br />
Miss her everyday...<br />
<br />
Well.<br />
<br />
What comes to your mind when you have about four <strike>strong</strike> little children <strike>running</strike> playing around in the house, bringing the roof down with their 'tea party', 'art party', 'costume party', 'all sorts of stuffs party'?<br />
<br />
<b>In case you didn't know:</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Art party: an occasion where a group of boisterous children come together to terrorise one or two adults by scattering tracing papers, cardboards, crayons, pencils, glitter glues, etc all over a large expanse of ground while hollering at the top of their voices.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Tea party: a similar occasion where the same group of young lads gather together over a table covered with cups in the ratio of 2-1 and almost empty a whole jar of Horlicks chocolate powder into each cup after which they'd sit to discuss the next line of action before racing away leaving the poor adult around to clean up the mess.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Costume party: an occasion where this same group of children upturn / over/ under-turn their wardRobe + the whole house searching for costumes, putting them on and screaming and fight/play-pretending for hours on end while the poor adult around tries to pretend to catch some shut-eye.</b><br />
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<br />
So, now that you have the definitions, I can get on with it.<br />
<br />
I don't know about you but I sometimes crave solitude in the midst of the blissful hullabaloo.<br />
<br />
So in the late morning / early noon of May 27, I was trying to <strike>relax </strike>monitor intermittently all the party proceedings safely from afar when the Captain came running in from the play room a la party venue, breathless.<br />
<br />
<i>"Mum, I've got some really bad news for you"</i><br />
My mind really cut to the sky and back...I bolted upright with the speed of light, quickly forgetting I was 'sleep-pretending'<br />
<br />
You want to know why?<br />
<br />
In addition to the boys, two of their friends were over to stay the whole day and they were all cooped up in the new party venue, having migrated from the Study to the Living room before moving to the children's bedroom for what I hope would be the last leg. I wished.<br />
<br />
<i>"What happened?"</i><br />
<i>"Is anyone injured?"</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>"The Laptop is not charging!"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
That's the bad news. And on May 27, a day set aside to celebrate children nationwide. Why would the laptop choose that day, of all days to not charge?<br />
<br />
Oh! Thank you sweet Lord. That's one bad news I could definitely deal with.<br />
<i><br /></i><i>"Okay. Just leave it and make sure noone goes near the socket, we'll fix it later"</i><br />
<br />
Apparently, when a young lad / host is trying to turn on the Laptop to possibly show off his ICT and ownership skills to his visitors and it refuses to come up because the battery is drained and the socket is faulty leading to the inability of the laptop to be charged, it's some real bad news.<br />
<br />
Here's hoping these young ones never have to deal with bad news in their life times.<br />
<br />
And I'm praying that you, reading this never gets to hear / receive bad tidings where your bundle (s) of joy are concerned.<br />
<br />
These ones have been unimaginable sources of wondrous blessings and good cheer. Call them my companion for life and you'd not be far from the mark. That's not relegating DH in the least but they fill the gap, complimenting him beautifully well.<br />
<br />
They make me smile, they make me laugh out loud. They make me cry While filling my heart with love and hope for the future of this land.<br />
<br />
They are indeed the future.<br />
<br />
You know I'm eternally grateful for these young ones and I'm using them as points of contacts for every mum-in-waiting out there. Sooner than later, you'd have beautiful causes to rejoice. Amen.<br />
<br />
Here's also congratulating a virtual friend who recently became a new mum after years of waiting...far away yet near and dear -Sykik of www.sykik.blogspot.com.<br />
<br />
We believed and it came to pass and I'm still believing fervently that it will come to pass for YOU too, my sweet friend(s). You are constantly in my thoughts and prayers.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-65277807520085018992015-05-29T15:40:00.001-05:002015-11-06T06:34:56.808-06:00 Fairy Dishwashing Liquid Soap is Our New Kitchen Rave - Review<br />
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Mothers...Fathers. ..sisters...brothers...friends...sweethearts...everyone, Please get in here.<br />
<br />
How are y'all doing?<br />
<br />
The month of May is packing her bags to make room for June, I sincerely hope those dreams are beginning to fall into place gradually. Don't you worry, it will end well, better than you thought.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
A lot has happened in the year already but things can only get better from now, by His grace.<br />
<br />
So I've been missing in action and This review is a bit overdue.<br />
<br />
Activities have been overwhelmingly ongoing on all fronts and I guess i was also busy trying to survive. What with the fuel scarcity and all.<br />
<br />
It's been wonderfully wonderful not having electricity and fuel to function for weeks. Let's 'give it up' for every resilient nigerian that has refused to succumb to all the recent hardships while saying a prayer for those that couldn't keep up with the whole iSh.<br />
<br />
It's really not been easy For all, one way or the other.<br />
<br />
But as we all know this very blessed day, the ship of change has finally berthed in Nigeria with the inauguration of the new president. You know, I was a bit fearful about the success of today's program, but thankfully, everything went well. I posted earlier (not here) that with the looming inauguration of BUHARI, every government parastatal appeared to have awakened from their self-induced slumber. NDLEA, NAFDAC, etc.; Even PHCN now remembers that their main duty is to provide electricity. He hehe.<br />
<br />
Praying the new regime brings the desired change in this country.<br />
<br />
Anyway, this post isn't about the state of our great nation Nigeria, its all about the 'new' Fairy dishwashing liquid soap.<br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: magenta;">Better thing Don enter my kitchen. True true</span></i>.<br />
<br />
Fairy dishwashing liquid soap is the new rave, in my house.<br />
<br />
To be honest I was a tad sceptical when I started seeing Fairy all over the place, adverts and all.<br />
<br />
I'd been a live-hard fan of good 'old Morning Fresh and I just couldn't be bothered with this new entrant before now. My attitude of 'if-its-not-broken-ain't-no-changing-or-fixing-it also didn't help in the least.<br />
<br />
When I was contacted for this review, I was like, okay let's see what new value this would add.<br />
<br />
I was away when the products were delivered and coincidentally, it was the dishwashing liquid of choice at my hostess' kitchen so I had ample opportunity to test and already formed my opinion before jetting back.<br />
<br />
To cut my long story short, I'm glad I tried it and I can confidently say my boys and I are hooked on Fairy and I'm hoping the affair lasts for a very long time indeed.<br />
<br />
A few things I love about Fairy:<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>It's fresh, it's original. I admit I also thought the Naija quality would differ from the UK brand I first tested but surprisingly, I didn't notice any difference. </li>
<li>The fragrance is cool and an exciting departure from what we were accustomed to. It's a breeze of fresh air.</li>
<li>The suds are long-lasting + no more heavy oil smearing sponges and everywhere after doing the dishes.</li>
<li>I seriously don't know about that line about just one drop washing all, but a few drops have been doing it for me. Maybe it's the 'Thomas' in me but I'm okay with the few drops, for now. </li>
<li>It's easy on the purse. I actually thought the price was going to be inhibitory but believe me, it's pocket friendly considering the value derivable from those packs. Nobody wants to turn dishwashing into a project in these austere times.</li>
<li>The packaging is neat, fresh and attractive; very easy on the eyes. The R&D department def got this right. The aesthetics is simply a breeze of fresh air, #cliché, lovely to behold.</li>
</ol>
<br />
And an added bonus for a MOB, it's kids' friendly, not harsh on the hands at all.<br />
<br />
Another important bonus : the boys love it and are always over-enthusiastic to clean up now..lol...even though I have to stand over them like mother hawk to ensure they truly add a few drops to the washing bowl....before they go and empty everything into water for me all in the name of washing just two plates and cups...lol<br />
<br />
Summarily, I wasn't disappointed.<br />
<br />
Would I recommend Fairy dishwashing liquid?<br />
<br />
YES.<br />
<br />
In fact I'm recommending it now, go on, give it a try. Then come back and testify / give your opinion.<br />
Have you tried it? What is your opinion about it?<br />
Would really love to know.<br />
<br />
PS: Fairy is manufactured by Procter and Gamble, there are two variants available in the nigerian market right now - LEMON and ORIGINAL. It formally 'entered' Nigeria in January even though it was first launched in the United Kingdom about five decades ago. The Fairy brand is popular globally and has been tested and trusted and It boasts over 50 years of scientific innovation in each bottle which is reputed to last twice as long as other brands in the market.<br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent;"><b>PPS: I was given complimentary samples of the product in exchange for my honest review, all thoughts are 100% mine and no other form of compensation was receiVed.</b></span></div>
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<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-17975839264712442822015-05-09T10:04:00.003-05:002015-11-06T06:36:47.182-06:00Letter to My Daughters-in-law (I)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDb7OyJyKSoNsgzbmSWGqaKkqOqxdqF1qzlxF0luhBjn-nj-MaQIxBxW8_QwWbqZYjjLseFeD9G6zIs0tE_odrP0nRNWcUnTbQLlKKxYwvnbtqSYnccEcYWoC01iTSg8pBoWyFKLOI6Ul5/s1600/09072011419.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img class="irc_mut" height="213" 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" 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<br />
Dear Daughters (in-waiting),<br />
<br />
I had waited so long to remove the 'in-waiting' part so I could properly address you as 'daughter'. <br />
<br />
I can't explain this but you have been on my mind a lot lately. Maybe it is the realization that time is not slowing down as I celebrate the sixth mother's day and these boys of mine are growing way too fast.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
If you are lucky, they would have put on a whole lot of flesh by the time you eventually meet. They are still '<span style="color: magenta;"><i>lepacious'</i></span> as I write this letter to you but slim shadies or not, you are going to have really beautiful times together.<br />
<br />
I am aware that the days I have with them is less one today while you are going to be with them for a lifetime so I intend praying for you and keeping you real close, starting from now. Yes, I do mean it.<br />
<br />
Not in the 'monster-in-law' fashion so do not entertain any fear there. <br />
<br />
I mean, my sons are going to transfer some of the love I presently 'colonize' to you, so what better way to consolidate other than to be close to you both?<br />
<br />
I am positive we will complete one another in a good way and we sure are going to be great friends and confidants, if you allow me. <br />
<br />
You know, decades before we met, I knew you would definitely come and 'complete' my all-boys family. Whenever well-meaning people tells me to 'try' one more time for a girl, I always smiled and say to them that I've got two girls in waiting. Haven't I?<br />
<br />
Ain't you lucky to have a new mother that had been waiting her whole life just to meet and love you? I am not going to replace your own mothers or expect you to love them any less, no one can and no reasonable woman should expect that of anyone and I sure am reasonable.<br />
<br />
By the way, your mothers and I are also going to love one another and be best of buddies, I hope and pray.<br />
<br />
Talking about love, you are sure getting more than a double portion of what I got in my time and so I say you are doubly lucky.<br />
<br />
Lest I forget, one word about trying for 'one more'; my daughter, do not ever fall into that trap because those 'well-meaning' people would not stay with you through the red-eyed sleepless nights nor would they send you the much needed cash for Huggies or Milk whenever the stash is running low!<br />
Moreover, what if you try for 'one more' and end up getting the same 'result', are you going to keep trying for 'one more' until you probably end up with a complete football team? <span style="color: magenta;"><i>I no dey for that one o</i></span>.<br />
<br />
Be it an all-boys or all-girls brood, you are blessed regardless; the main objective is for them/him/her to be healthy and for you to have the resources to give them/him/her a 'good life'.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><i>Omo l'omo nje o, ikan o ju'kan lo!</i></span><br />
<br />
I should know because I've been around awhile.<br />
<br />
Now let me gist you a little about our evening yesterday; I had just come back from work and trying to get so much done amidst the hullabaloo and little tangle of feet and arms that were your husbands to-be with the added bonus of an aching back. (I tell you, it is as beautifully hard as it gets but you are going to enjoy it and hopefully, you would get an easier deal..Don't ask me about it yet. *wink*). When you get to 'that phase', remember to smile thankfully through the stress and enjoy every moment you get.<br />
<br />
One of your would-be husbands -D1 joined me in the kitchen
while I sweated over the 'basic' rice and fish stew to ask me countless
times how he could help.<br />
<br />
He is one heck of a nice dude, that one. (Daughter, you are 'seriously' getting a GEM!)<br />
<br />
And mind you, he doesn't do that 'once in a blue
moon', he does it every time I am in the kitchen. He takes pleasure in
helping people though this could be a clog when one is trying hard to put a
quick one together and escape from the 'hot house'...you know what I
mean?<br />
<br />
For your sake, he'd hopefully stay this way though he
might not be easily primed away from his News channels and Champion League games
to offer you help EVERY TIME the way he abandons cartoon network or his
art work anytime I am in the kitchen today but whenever he does 'saunter'
into the kitchen to assist you in any way, count it all joy and revel in
it. <br />
<br />
A word of caution though, do not ever take this for granted in any way.<br />
<br />
You
see, in this part of the world, it is a big deal because men are raised
to be the 'lords' of their homes; many have mis-interpreted this
'lordship' and would never get off their high horses to do 'menial'
domestic chores <b>WITH</b> their wives even though such are always quick
to critique wifeys' culinary / cleaning / bedroom skills while some of the men around are simply too laid-back to
help.<br />
<br />
Being laid-back and lazy are birds of a feather, right? (Your would-be husbands are neither)<br />
<br />
Such men would never fully understand the concept of marriage let alone know what a little help could do for a young woman but thankfully, you are in for a sweet ride.<br />
<br />
I digress.<br />
<br />
'We' succeeded in making dinner and served everyone, and just as your husbands-to-be were going through the motions of wolfing down the rice and fish stew topped with plantain under the watchful eyes of your dad-in-waiting, D1 lifted his head and stopped me in my tracks with these words spoken in the tenderest <strike>innocently</strike> babyish voice. (Never mind that he is six now, I kinda miss those tediously sweet baby years)<br />
<br />
''Mum, you're doing a very nice hard job, maybe you should relax a little and eat''<br />
<br />
I could barely mutter the lovey-dovey acknowledging thanks before escaping into the room to stretch my back and 'relax a little' forgetting the '..and eat' part.<br />
<br />
A little warning for you my dear daughter (in-waiting), some days are going to come when after cooking up a storm your tongue would want nothing to do with the results of your effort. <br />
<br />
I'm sniffing as I type this but don't mind your mum-in-waiting, she could be an emotional wreck at the slightest provocation.<br />
<br />
Now to the big warning 'numero uno': Your husband-to-be is a very 'un-african' caring, considerate and passionate young man who is not shy to express his love verbally and is also always delighted to lend a helping hand.<br />
<br />
You would come to know the characteristics of the 'typical african' man very soon.<br />
<br />
From cleaning to nail painting, your would-be husband is a star - a real catch if I may say so.<br />
<br />
I just got my nails painted, unsolicited and while trying to nap at that. Talk about a 5-star treatment on my bed.<br />
<br />
It is however up to you to decide whether you would want to <strike>grimacingly</strike> waltz around town in the smear campaign lovingly wrought on your dainty toes.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHlmC9UzxEwd0mYt7mq-L_6J6Ed62DaptyLNRmJaPnnbS0qrp6H0gPRfkYiZQ36qI9KaJ_MEYSXPiBIGZK-CP2iseDjQ1bPo32HAnWPxNx_fPxlPcUQ69nT78eO8PxZISxQWDiJj2RRkwt/s1600/DSCN0858.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHlmC9UzxEwd0mYt7mq-L_6J6Ed62DaptyLNRmJaPnnbS0qrp6H0gPRfkYiZQ36qI9KaJ_MEYSXPiBIGZK-CP2iseDjQ1bPo32HAnWPxNx_fPxlPcUQ69nT78eO8PxZISxQWDiJj2RRkwt/s320/DSCN0858.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Never knew they are this bloated...and blue of all the colors in the pack!</span></div>
<br />
So when you're gifted with a man who is willing to help out in the kitchen as well as <strike>smear</strike> paint your nails, graciously accept it and count yourself lucky to be among the 'blessed' ones.<br />
<br />
Another warning though, never dwell on this enough to draw a roaster for you both as the tiny 'african' lord in him may flip off the handle.<br />
<br />
You see, men are naturally proud and a tiny unguarded moment may tilt the scale. So watch out for this.<br />
<br />
Let me put a rein on the advise for now lest I bore you before we
meet finally; did I mention that I got a beautifully 'tied' bracelet and
letter (from one of your would-be husbands) and a nice little mint dress (from your
dad-in-waiting) as my gifts for this year's mothers' day? I have a juicy
little gist for you regarding the gifts which I would definitely share
soon.<br />
<br />
A last word of advice (for now), I would not want you to turn yourselves into glorified slaves for your husbands or kill yourselves while trying to carry out your duties but you do need to be the Proverbs 31 woman (though I'm still striving to meet up), take care of their NEEDs and absolutely respect them. A little secret here, some men love 'praise-singing' and ALL men love to be respected.<br />
<br />
I know they love you as much as you love them, if not more, so keep respecting them and massage their ego as constantly as they help and tell you, 'sweetheart, you're doing a nice hard job, maybe you should relax a little and rest'. <br />
<br />
I have tons to share with you but we still have several years between now and then, haven't we?<br />
<br />
Love always,<br />
<br />
Your mum-in-waiting. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-10762093269530537412015-04-21T14:50:00.000-05:002015-04-21T14:51:35.986-05:00Remain Steady..and Win <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVnBJsQMuxo3o-6PBzVQ6xSEx3a9HctHRZZ4yCiHAAjbYe3bvbIdBSV0nd5jVa_I1QkFa6SpSvuMejrx7h_5BWamP7hSJ6oN9ce5WDSleNavw9BNkvz97eH8Iu0Bt_81t0zk-zFBH3dmTk/s1600/4070705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVnBJsQMuxo3o-6PBzVQ6xSEx3a9HctHRZZ4yCiHAAjbYe3bvbIdBSV0nd5jVa_I1QkFa6SpSvuMejrx7h_5BWamP7hSJ6oN9ce5WDSleNavw9BNkvz97eH8Iu0Bt_81t0zk-zFBH3dmTk/s1600/4070705.jpg" height="251" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.seekinghopeblog.com/seeking-hope-blog/out-of-the-mouths-of-babes" target="_blank">Credit</a> </div>
<br />
Can you tell this is another #thingskidssay post?<br />
<br />
I am seriously beginning to think differently about this motherhood <i>thing</i>. <br />
<br />
I see myriads of <span style="color: magenta;">r</span><span style="color: purple;">a</span><span style="color: blue;">i</span><span style="color: cyan;">n</span><span style="color: lime;">b</span><span style="color: yellow;">o</span><span style="color: orange;">w<span style="color: red;">y</span></span> beauty already in the nurturing process. A lot more ahah moments are sneaking in on us as we trudge on, on this journey.<br />
<br />
So we were gawking at the big screen, the whole 4-makes-a-family-all-of-us and flipping across the screen were the images of some big men chasing one small, round leather contraption, as usual. <br />
<br />
Not that I had anything against full grown men chasing one teeny-tiny black/white leather ball, fighting for control but my boy sure had something to say which intrigued me.<br />
<br />
<i>D1: ''Mummy, why are they even fighting for the ball? Is it not better to be steady on the ball than fighting for it?''</i> <i><span style="color: magenta;">Dunno how you can be steady on a ball that is not within your control...do you?</span></i><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDZF_5dCFQWjB__DiLus-VZuHSNq8_EoXcW-qDleVQhne0aXNIfoUoR09EN2hIHotF4v9FwhAj1kuJNjorvhiPC5mMguKU8_y_M7bPzEYHB6Yx1piabrGi9TnSYQ2W_zzaSg5DgAQ3PdQV/s1600/IMG_20140718_211722.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/AVvXsEiDZF_5dCFQWjB__DiLus-VZuHSNq8_EoXcW-qDleVQhne0aXNIfoUoR09EN2hIHotF4v9FwhAj1kuJNjorvhiPC5mMguKU8_y_M7bPzEYHB6Yx1piabrGi9TnSYQ2W_zzaSg5DgAQ3PdQV/s1600/IMG_20140718_211722.JPG" height="200" width="200" /></a><i>''I even think they can win by becoming steady on the ball'' <span style="color: magenta;">What does this lil man know about being steady or about football at that?</span></i><br />
<br />
<i>Me: ''How can they win by being steady on the ball?''</i><br />
<br />
<i>D1: ''If they are steady on the ball, they will be able to see very well and send it into the net''</i><br />
<br />
<i>''Is it even a must that they win the trophy?'' <span style="color: magenta;">Really?</span></i><br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Me: ''Everybody loves winning, Daps, because it feels good''</i> <i><span style="color: magenta;">(I should know)</span></i><br />
<br />
<i>D1: ''I think it is not a must that they win. Because if they don't win this match, they can win the next one!''</i><br />
<br />
Gbam.<br />
<br />
My half-tired senses shot up from their half-sleeping state. This under-age-light-weighted lil boy would not cease bringing the 'open mouth' factor to almost every near-conversation. <br />
<br />
You bet the keyword in my new definition of motherhood has nothing to do with bringing forth, now; the whole <i>thing</i> has become a learning program (only difference is there are not going to be formal performance appraisals. So I dare <i>not not</i> pick the nuggets from the blissfully innocent words thrown at me from time to time.<br />
<br />
I never for the life of me imagined there would be a reversal of roles at some point on this <i>field of play, </i>pun intended.
Well, we learn daily and I sure am bracing up for the many more beautiful <b><span style="color: red;">r</span><span style="color: orange;">a</span><span style="color: yellow;">i</span><span style="color: lime;">n</span><span style="color: cyan;">b</span><span style="color: blue;">o</span><span style="color: purple;">w</span><span style="color: magenta;">s</span></b> to come through these little ones.<br />
<br />
But for now, I'm off to practice being steady on the many balls I juggle so I can win in the end. I don't even want to analyze the words right now, the superficial would suffice for now but I'm leaving you to dissect and digest as you wish.<br />
<br />
And I'm also going to leave you with his words which I hope blossoms into a <b><span style="color: red;">r</span><span style="color: orange;">a</span><span style="color: yellow;">i</span><span style="color: lime;">n</span><span style="color: cyan;">b</span><span style="color: blue;">o</span><span style="color: purple;">w</span><span style="color: magenta;"> </span></b><span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: black;">of hope to color your heart -keep steady on the ball and don't you worry if you do not win this one, tomorrow is another beautiful day to try again. And win.</span></span><br />
<br />
Do you usually <strike>unexpectedly</strike> experience older-than-age wisdom from under-age kids? Care to share?<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-447839402559394032015-04-19T14:50:00.002-05:002015-04-21T07:59:39.462-05:00Love is All They Need<i><img alt="relayforkids" class="alignright size-full wp-image-9540" height="356" src="https://mb4mh.files.wordpress.com/2015/03/relayforkids.jpg?w=474&h=356" width="474" /> </i><br />
<i><a href="http://mombloggersforsocialgood.com/sos-childrens-villages-information/" target="_blank">Photo Credit</a> </i><br />
<br />
<i>''Mummy, you are the best cooker in the whole wide world'' . </i><br />
<br />
'Cooker' is oftentimes interchanged with 'maker' or 'baker' depending on the circumstances...and on what the trigger is (food or tea or treat). <br />
<br />
<i>''Mummy, I love you...you are the best'' </i><br />
<br />
I get to hear these words followed by bear hugs at least 8 times daily averaging 4 emotional-laden words from each starry-eyed boy per day.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
It has become a part of me as much as it is a part of the daily ritual of living and nurturing in a peaceful and loving environment. <br />
<br />
My children currently know no other way to express love- triggered by security, shelter and a full tummy in this growing phase of their lives.<br />
<br />
Growing up for me was not without some reasonable measure of security, joy, fun, exhilaration spiced a tiny bit with pain but in our times, life was simpler than it is, now. Worries were of a different kind.<br />
<br />
Young children could walk short distances on errands unchaperoned and there were no fear of being attacked or kidnapped on some lonely pathways or being carted away from dormitories in the dead of the night.<br />
<br />
I know this because the whole six years I was away at the boarding house -6 towns away from home - was without chaos, trauma or any sad life changing event.<br />
<br />
Distance from home to the Government Unity School was only 1hour 30mins by road and about 76.8km according to Google. At that time, it felt like a whole day's journey. Besides the first year, my sister and I...and numerous other young children made the journey alone with none of our parents going on the journey with us.<br />
<br />
Of course, parents always favored the State owned transport company and we always got accompanied to the Bus park and they always took details of the vehicles and the buses always dropped us right in front of the school and we always went right in only to come out of the gates during the mid-term breaks for the next leg of the journey back home.<br />
<br />
There were no mobile phones to track movement and monitor children everyday for the whole term but we survived because the world was a better place with 'Strangers' lovingly looking out for other people's children / wards without sinister thoughts precipitating their acts.<br />
<br />
There was simply enough love to go round.<br />
<br />
Needless to say that growing up in a loving environment is one of the keys to survival, these keys have been long lost and millions of children are suffering the world over on account of this.<br />
<br />
Love is long gone with the keys. It has since been swallowed in hate and senseless battle for control.<br />
<br />
Suffice also to say that growing up with loving parents committed to the tendering of the fresh gardens that children are could not but result into a lovingly balanced tomorrow. Our tomorrow are really the children and we have little choice than to bestow all the love we are capable of giving on them, today. <br />
<br />
It deeply saddens me that some children would never have enough love to fill their hearts and tummies to induce the <i>''mummy, you are the best cooker..'' </i>or similar love-induced lines.<br />
<br />
More disheartening is the fact that some children all over the world no longer
have someone to love them or look out for them and so they have nobody they can love back. Millions of children have nobody to provide them shelter, shield them from the harsh realities of the day, send them to schools or wipe their fevered brows on some clean hospital wards while awaiting needed and timely medical interventions.<br />
<br />
They have been left love-less and unloved due to activities of war, terrorism, senseless xenophobic crisis. They have been forced to witness and experience traumatizing acts of terror that could permanently scar the hearts of even the strongest adults. Their lives have been disrupted, their hearts have been scarred.<br />
<br />
According to <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2015/apr/13/children-nigeria-conflict-unicef-boko-haram" target="_blank">UNICEF</a>, about 800,000 children have been displaced as a result of islamic millitants' activities in Nigeria alone. Those are the documented cases only, the actual figures may run much higher. <br />
<br />
Add that figure to the millions in Syria, Liberia, Sierra Leone, South Africa and other crisis-ridden regions and you would come close to the figure of children in distress -globally.<br />
<br />
Their childhoods have evaporated with the fumes of gunpowder and some of them are currently on the run, for their lives!<br />
<br />
Asides competing in inter-school sports activities, children really have no business running when they should be living, schooling, partaking in developmental activities, safe and secured in loving environments with access to everything that makes childhood fun.<br />
<br />
<br />
<img alt="Children who fled their homes following an attack by Islamist militants, in North East Nigeria, wait to be registered at the camp for internally displaced people in Yola, Nigeria" class="maxed responsive-img" src="http://i.guim.co.uk/static/w-620/h--/q-95/sys-images/Guardian/Pix/pictures/2015/4/13/1428936548180/a630c3f7-a04d-45be-9c33-be9674af71f0-620x372.jpeg" height="240" itemprop="contentUrl representativeOfPage" width="400" /><br />
<a href="http://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2015/apr/13/children-nigeria-conflict-unicef-boko-haram" target="_blank">Photo credit</a><br />
<br />
<i>“Children worldwide are living in extreme poverty, witnessing horrific
violence and suffering the long-term impact of deprivations. Without our
support, these children are at heightened risk of exposure to trauma
and exploitation,” </i><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
- Lynn Croneberger, CEO of SOS Children’s Villages
– USA<i> </i></div>
<br />
They are living in palpable fear in volatile environments with no access to the basic amenities needed to survive. No food to fill their tummies, tons and tons of wide-eyed kids and adults huddled together in make-shift open shelters and are prone to all sorts of ailments and diseases with no access to medical care, education, etc are the order of the day. They currently have no hope of a 'good' future given their current circumstances. This tugs at my heart, constantly.<i> </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
But there is something we can all do to assist these innocent and helpless ones. There is something we can all do to show them some love and that will only take 1 minute or less of our time.<i><br /></i>
<img alt="unicef snapchat" src="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/2846298/thumbs/o-UNICEF-SNAPCHAT-570.jpg?2" height="266" width="400" /><br />
<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/04/17/unicef-snapchat-bring-back-childhood_n_7081708.html" target="_blank">Credit</a><br />
<br />
I believe every child is important in the scheme of things. Every child deserves LOVE and we do not need several millions of cash in the bank to help them neither do we need gigantic buildings or single-handedly build schools before we can demonstrate some measure of love.<br />
<br />
Although putting structures in place or donating to a worthy cause that supports helpless children all over is not a bad idea if we all have the means and resources but one inexpensive way I am pretty positive you can show some love right now is by pausing to support the <a href="http://give.sos-usa.org/ea-campaign/action.retrievestaticpage.do?ea_static_page_id=3988" target="_blank">Relay for Kids</a> initative.<br />
<br />
<i><a href="http://give.sos-usa.org/ea-campaign/action.retrievestaticpage.do?ea_static_page_id=3988" target="_blank">Relay for Kids</a> is about two things: kids in crisis around the world and
what you can do—right now—to help them. As you read this, millions of
children from Syria to Liberia are seeing their childhoods stolen from
them by prolonged violent conflict and a debilitating disease. Relay for
Kids is a chance to directly impact the lives of these children—all
with a few clicks of your mouse. </i><br />
<br />
Every time you like and/or share any of the posts on Huffington Post's website, Johnson & Johnson will donate $1 per like / share to SOS Children's Villages which is the world's largest organization dedicated to orphaned or abandoned children. This could go up to $30,000 which is a lot for these children. <br />
<a href="http://give.sos-usa.org/ea-campaign/action.retrievestaticpage.do?ea_static_page_id=3988" target="_blank"><br /></a>
<a href="http://give.sos-usa.org/ea-campaign/action.retrievestaticpage.do?ea_static_page_id=3988" target="_blank">Relay for Kids</a> is an initiative of Johnson & Johnson, SOS Children' Village and The Huffington Post and the objective is to raise global awareness and support for children around the world who are affected by poverty, conflict, disease and natural disaster.<br />
<br />
So do show and share some love by liking and sharing.<br />
<br />
Love makes us think of strangers in distress, enough to want to help anyhow we can.<br />
Love makes us want to protect our children and every other child with all we have.<br />
Love makes us want to provide for our children's needs while also sparing some thought for the 'less privileged'.<br />
Love prevents people from hurting other people's children just because their parents decides to leave their own habitats for some other 'greener' places thereby competing with local indigenes for supposedly limited opportunities available.<br />
Love makes us see ourselves as one, regardless of color / race.<br />
Love prevents people from massacring young children just because their parents sends them to educational institutes to get some knowledge.<br />
Love prevents people from invading learning institutions and kidnapping young scholars whose only crime was being in the right places at the right time.<br />
Love makes people place others on pedestals much higher than color, religion or social standing.<br />
<br />
Love will make you pause for a second, ruminate on this message, visit the <a href="http://give.sos-usa.org/ea-campaign/action.retrievestaticpage.do?ea_static_page_id=3988" target="_blank">#Relay for Kids</a> website and like / share the day's post so that at least one helpless / hopeless / displaced / distressed child may have hope and the tiniest fraction of love for truly, love is all they need to survive.<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-30138005852341927202015-04-13T16:45:00.001-05:002015-04-21T08:00:15.857-05:00E is for Escalators <img alt="File:HK TST 香港藝術博物館 Art Museum interior Schindler escalators.JPG" data-file-height="2448" data-file-width="3264" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/3f/HK_TST_%E9%A6%99%E6%B8%AF%E8%97%9D%E8%A1%93%E5%8D%9A%E7%89%A9%E9%A4%A8_Art_Museum_interior_Schindler_escalators.JPG/800px-HK_TST_%E9%A6%99%E6%B8%AF%E8%97%9D%E8%A1%93%E5%8D%9A%E7%89%A9%E9%A4%A8_Art_Museum_interior_Schindler_escalators.JPG" height="240" width="320" /><br />
<a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HK_TST_%E9%A6%99%E6%B8%AF%E8%97%9D%E8%A1%93%E5%8D%9A%E7%89%A9%E9%A4%A8_Art_Museum_interior_Schindler_escalators.JPG" target="_blank">Source</a><br />
<br />
Wondering what that escalator is doing up there? Will get to it in a second.<br />
<br />
I thoroughly enjoyed the last Easter holiday so much that I really wish I could rewind and go over it again.<br />
<br />
Been promising to take the boys to the Cinema for a while and we finally chose 'Easter Monday' of all days to visit the one at Ikeja City Mall.<br />
<br />
You also want to ask what got into me, right?<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
You know I'm still a 'learner' <span style="color: magenta;"><i>nau</i></span>.<br />
<br />
All I know is I hopped in the car with the boys and drove straight down to the Mall hoping to see a good movie together and also pack in some fun at the Play Zone.<br />
<br />
Didn't need a soothsayer to tell me <i>I don pass my boundary on jamming </i>the long vehicular queue leading to the entrance of the Mall.<br />
<br />
Even if we wanted to turn back, <span style="color: magenta;"><i>na to take one way</i></span> and risk the wrath of any law enforcement agent around so we had to see the mission through and persevere till we 'enter' the Mall.<br />
<br />
The crowd was more than crazy; it appeared the whole of Lagos chose the Mall as the only 'authentic' Galilee to meet Jesus, all at the same time. <br />
<br />
<i>'Guys, sorry there is nothing we can do here because of the crowd, do you want to go to Fun Place?'</i><br />
<i>'Yeeeesss' </i><br />
<br />
Side-eyeing the escalator. <br />
I smell trouble.<br />
<br />
<i>''So let's go.</i>' <br />
<i>'Mummy, please we want to go on 'it'</i><br />
<i>'What? </i><br />
<i>'No, we can't.</i><br />
<i>'Yes mummy, <b>we can. <span style="color: magenta;">(confidence or faith?)</span></b></i><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><i><span style="color: black;">'Look at</span> <span style="color: black;">everybody going on 'it'</span></i></span><br />
<i>'We are not everybody...I know you won't like it.</i><br />
<i>'But we like it already. Mummy, pleaaaaaassse'</i><br />
<i>'D2 will start screaming and crying like he always does'. <b><span style="color: magenta;">(Ok...this should work)</span></b></i><br />
<br />
<i>'No, mummy, I wont cry. I promise.</i><br />
<i>'Yes, you will. I promise you, you won't like it <span style="color: magenta;"><b>(Three can really play that game)</b></span></i><br />
<i>'Mummy, we like it and we won't cry...you will see. </i><span style="color: magenta;">(<i><b>This mummy here doesn't want to 'see')</b></i></span><i><br /></i><br />
<i>'You know you can't get off mid-way if you start crying on 'it'</i><br />
<i>'We know, mummy...<b>let's get on it first </b></i><br />
<i>'You might injure yourselves on it.</i><br />
<i>'No mummy, we won't...you'll see.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<img src="http://www.dapino-colada.nl/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/girl-escalator-prev-500x500.png" height="393" id="irc_mi" style="margin-top: 0px;" width="393" /><br />
<a href="https://www.google.com.ng/search?q=escalators&biw=1366&bih=633&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=ThosVbKgFa-N7Ab54YGoCA&sqi=2&ved=0CAYQ_AUoAQ#tbm=isch&q=woman+posing+on+escalator&imgrc=nRSLLd-00AIYjM%253A%3Bn8aK-9Vc6McppM%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fwww.dapino-colada.nl%252Fwp-content%252Fuploads%252F2012%252F04%252Fgirl-escalator-prev-500x500.png%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fwww.dapino-colada.nl%252Fcategory%252Ffor-dapinos-premium-members%252Fpage%252F2%3B500%3B500" target="_blank">This could be me but I hate escalators!</a><br />
<br />
<i>'But.</i>..'<br />
Mummy finally ran out of excuses and rejection tactics.<br />
<br />
We are seriously reversing roles here, people. Those little ones have got more
confidence than some-hundreds-scared-silly mamas put together. <br />
<br />
<i>Yipee</i>...the ecstatic feelings could not but shine forth. Thankfully, nobody is paying attention to us as the hustling and bustling went on around us. People milling all around us. Hopping on. Stepping off. Having ecstatic fun at the Mall.<br />
<br />
Did I already let out my well guarded secret? Well, on the very off chance I didn't...I HATE ESCALATORS.<br />
<br />
Yeah, that's for the records. <br />
<br />
Who knew there's even a fancy word for the fear of escalators?<br />
<br />
<u><b>Escalophobia</b></u><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">There. Thank me later.</span><b> </b><br />
Big fanciful name for a tiny fear of moving stairs.<br />
<br />
Why
would a grown up woman be terrified by escalators to the point of doing some
mental Usain-Bolty sprints every time she sees one? Especially after several preparatory years of stairs-climbing + elevator-riding?<br />
<br />
I recall the last time I got on one. I had gone to see a prospect in my marketing hey days at one of the banking headquarters and although no personal ugly incidence...like falling over...marred that experience but my subconscious imagined all sorts (as I watched a lady almost falling flat) that I told myself I was never getting on one again.<br />
<br />
Until Easter Monday, 2015, that is.<br />
<br />
Always regarded the slinky moving stairs with a high degree of suspicion everytime thereafter that you
would think they actually contributed to the start of the second world war.<br />
<br />
Ok.<br />
Take a deep breathe. Ready. Steady. <br />
<br />
<i>Don't step on 'it' until I say so. When you hop on, hold on to mummy with one hand and the side rail with the other. </i><br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: magenta;">Mummy needs the assurance that she is safe in your little hands</span></i><br />
<br />
Ready?<br />
Now...<br />
<br />
We hopped on...legs trembling...heels dug in...heart beating wildly until it steadied as the moving stairs rolled along to the joyful laughter of the boys.<br />
<br />
And we are at the top.<br />
<br />
We did it. No panic attack, no screaming fit, no feet trapping, no ankle breaking, no falling over and none of those scenarios that had always held my subconscious back from hopping on the escalator.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>F</b></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">ake</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>E</b></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">vidence</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>A</b></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">ppearing</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>R</b></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">eal</span>. <br />
I conquered it, together with the boys.<br />
<br />
We did it. And we deserve some standing ovation topped with a golden goblet.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<img src="http://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/lego/images/1/14/Gold_Trophy.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20120708062419" height="200" id="irc_mi" style="margin-top: 7px;" width="136" /><br />
<a href="https://www.google.com.ng/search?q=gold+trophy&biw=1366&bih=633&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=LiQsVfeEBoXmaNuXgcAN&ved=0CAYQ_AUoAQ#imgrc=onkxdxSfLMqqWM%253A%3BSwG0uq6R0suC4M%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fvignette3.wikia.nocookie.net%252Flego%252Fimages%252F1%252F14%252FGold_Trophy.jpg%252Frevision%252Flatest%253Fcb%253D20120708062419%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Flego.wikia.com%252Fwiki%252FUser%253ALMFS%252FGold_Trophy%3B260%3B380" target="_blank">Source</a> <br />
<br />
Some mental fist pumping and back -slapping is in order, donchu think? <br />
<br />
Maybe you also fear escalators like me.<br />
Or you desperately want to move out of your comfort zone but dread the unknown...<br />
What is your escalator?<br />
What holds you back from getting on it?<br />
<br />
<img src="http://cdn-media-1.lifehack.org/wp-content/files/2013/08/2c847ed9c1d7f1b61cf1bba2380558a6.jpg" height="320" id="irc_mi" style="margin-top: 0px;" width="315" /><br />
<br />
<br />
Maybe that business idea has become a larger than life escalator baring its fangs at you so much that you fear taking the first step.<br />
You want to write or draw or sing but dread rejection or you fear you are not good or talented enough? <br />
<br />
<img src="http://www.truebarbellion.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/dont-let-your-fear-of-what-could-happen-make-nothing-happen-quote-1.jpg" height="320" id="irc_mi" style="margin-top: 0px;" width="262" /><br />
<br />
If we succumb to crippling fear and fail to take the first step towards getting on the escalator, what could happen?<br />
<br />
Nothing.<br />
Exactly.<br />
We venture nothing, we gain nothing.<br />
<br />
On the flip side, if we get on it, we might just be on our way to a whole new discovery...a new world of victorious independence...gems of wisdom...liberating success...breakthrough...exhilarating fulfillment...mountain-top view...or even the Play Zone that beckons at the top of the stairs. <br />
<br />
So. Go on. Take a deep breathe and Step on it.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Image result for biblical verses against fear" border="0" class="rg_i" data-sz="f" name="bmXgy8TWjlvFIM:" 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" style="height: 169px; margin-top: 0px; width: 292px;" /><img alt="Image result for quotes about fear" class="rg_i" data-src="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQeTB4ACc6Ff9bJySpv_yYW6jwH9F9nhF7OgmEMjhi4hbIFEeHM_g" data-sz="f" height="149" name="CjWxBwl6ziZ9bM:" src="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQeTB4ACc6Ff9bJySpv_yYW6jwH9F9nhF7OgmEMjhi4hbIFEeHM_g" style="height: 194px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; width: 259px;" width="200" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-53051676235074520032015-03-28T06:56:00.000-05:002015-04-21T08:00:44.968-05:00As Nigeria Decides...#StandForPeace<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<img alt="Image result for nigeria decides 2015" class="rg_i" data-sz="f" height="640" name="aW_knyom4U9HmM:" 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" 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Firstly, I sincerely and somberly apologize for bailing on you. *mentally stares down at feet, hands folded behind back*</div>
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Been more than a month and believe me, it has been crazy but thankfully, we are still standing and breathing. Thanks be to God, again.</div>
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I love you guys, especially those who have been concerned, those who reached out to find out what was happening and those who have been goading and prodding me, ever so gently. You know yourselves and I am ever so grateful for your friendship which transcends this virtual divide.</div>
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You make me feel loved and needed. Now who doesn't love that? </div>
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It has really been an eventful one month. I pray nobody ever goes through some of these kind of events for the rest of this year.</div>
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Was supposed to publish at least four times during the past one month, well, all is well...even in the well. Lol.</div>
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I'm here now, would get round to it all but first things first, you know today's date, right?</div>
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Yeeeees. *pumping the air with my fist*</div>
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It's finally the day set aside for #Nigeria to decide who occupies Aso Villa / Rock for the next four years. </div>
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We go to the polls today to bravely chart a 'fresh' course..</div>
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Or more aptly, 'Patriotic' Nigerians (who are not scared 'shitless' to venture out of their apartments) go to the polls today to try and change our collective destiny as a nation. </div>
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Well, I am patriotic...and not scared (I hope)...but I sure am monitoring events from my bed or armchair, whichever <span style="color: magenta;"><i>'sweet me pass'</i></span>. You get?</div>
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D1 is hyper enthusiastic and has been keenly following the build up to the election. He has been pestering me for days and is the first to announce the 'big event' this morning thinking mum and dad may have forgotten.</div>
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He thought we were going to write the names of our candidates on a piece of paper, wrap it and go drop it off somewhere to be counted. Maybe release the paper into the space, watch and allow it float to wherever. </div>
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Had to tell him it doesn't work that way and also as a bonus reminded him (yet, again) that he is still faaaarrrrr from 18.</div>
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<i>'Sorry to dash your hope, sweetheart but you cannot vote for Muhammadu Buhari and Jimi Agbaje, yet'</i></div>
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Oh yes.</div>
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Though he likes Dr. Ebele Goodluck Jonathan but he wants the 'old' general -Buhari (GMB) for president and Jimi Agbaje for Governor of Lagos State and his younger brother is also totally sold on big bro' political idea / inclination. </div>
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The way they pick stuffs is amazing. Their minds are like sponges, eagerly lapping and absorbing everything that comes their way. More reason to get closer and help in filtering all the mumbo jumbos.</div>
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On our way from school sometimes last week, he was asking me whether it is true that Buhari is too old (to become president) and would die soon. Lol.</div>
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Of course I told him, age has little to do with death, sincerity of purpose and governance.</div>
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I digress.</div>
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In their minds, APC with their mighty brooms would do well in sweeping Boko Haram from Nigeria while PDP is to cover Lagos State with their umbrellas. </div>
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<img alt="Image result for apc symbol" class="rg_i" data-sz="f" name="FDTVA_sOWDRjDM:" 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style="height: 191px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; width: 213px;" /> OR <img alt="Image result for pdp symbol" class="rg_i" data-sz="f" name="ZG9rOQj5PoQ4KM:" src="data:image/jpeg;base64,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" style="height: 192px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: -2px; width: 177px;" /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
Of course D1 understands both men are from two different political parties but he just cannot be bothered as he likes both individuals and he is not affiliated to any party.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
Blissful innocence. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
Whatsmore? My boy neither collected any of the $$$ that has been flying around for days now nor did he share in the bags of rice and recharge cards, etc etc.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
So he is really coming with clean hands and for him, whoever wins, life goes on. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
He still gets to eat his Rice Krispies...and Ribena...and Grapes.</div>
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And he still gets to enjoy his game of Scrabble...and Chess....</div>
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</div>
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The life of an 'innocent' young boy is truly delightful.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
His mum and dad have no private jets or swiss accounts or oil wells or properties abroad.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
Why should he/we/they kill himself/ourselves/themselves for some bunch that would still hug and back-slap at their social gathering after today, regardless of whose 'bread is buttered'?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
After three weeks, they return to school...to their friends and teachers...they still get to see mum and dad, hug and tell them they love them...and life continues.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
Life goes on as usual.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
I really wish every Nigerian would think like these under-age-too-young-to-vote-blissfully-innocent boys. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That whoever wins, life goes on.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
...change or continuity, life goes on. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
Seriously, all I feel for these young and old ones that scramble after these ephemeral and temporal reliefs is PITY. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
$1000 or $20000 or 100 bags of rice would finish someday, flushed down the sewage and then what happens?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
Fresh doses of Insecurity. Unemployment. Darkness. Incessant outages. Corruption. Squandering of Resources. Incessant health workers' strike. Decaying infrastructure. Inadequate infrastructure. Regrets.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
How long would we continue to mortgage our souls and the future of our children for morsels of porridge?</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
Well, considering the level of poverty in the land and also the fact that the 'morsels' can assuage their thirsts and satisfy their hunger for a few hours or days...can they really be blamed? </div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
Maybe. Maybe not.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
Still finding it had to decide which is better between those scrambling for their share of the 'national cake' and the die-hard supporters who are seriously ready to die and kill for their candidates...and they are dying and killing for them. Maybe they are really one and the same.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
Such gluttony. Such loyalty. Totally misplaced.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
I pray their eyes would be opened to see the big picture, eschew violence and embrace peace.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
Can you join me in advocating for PEACE?</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
Spread the message of PEACE, especially to our youths.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
Let them know that nothing and nobody is worth dying or killing for.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That they should put themselves and their loved ones first. </div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That they are responsible for their actions and decisions.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That no individual should be greater than the nation.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That the 'morsels of porridge' would finish one day.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That the 'morsels of porridge' are actually their birthrights being squandered with their help.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That the ones they are dying and killing for are better placed than them and can escape in their lush private jets when push turns to shove.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That they would be left to sink or clean up or be locked up if they are 'lucky'. </div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That the children of these mighty ones they are dying for are safely ensconced in the US and UK in their fancy homes and schools.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That in the end, they remain standing with their loved ones.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That they would become the losers when the two elephants are done with fighting. </div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That he who fights and runs away lives to fight another day</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That whoever wins or die senselessly, life continues.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That another election would come round in another four years.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That if they unwisely/senselessly fight and die now, it's all lost and over for them and their loved ones.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That only nomenclature differentiates the parties, they are indeed one in modus operandi, principles and ideologies. </div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That violence resolves nothing.</div>
<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
That war is a wildfire which consumes everything in its way.</div>
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That if they have to fight at all, they should peacefully fight for PEACE. </div>
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As you join me in advocating for peace, I leave you with a part of this prayer I hear everyday from the boys.</div>
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....air plane will not crash in Jesus name </div>
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....nobody will die in Jesus name</div>
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....nobody will fall sick in Jesus name</div>
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....Nigeria will not scatter in Jesus name</div>
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....there will be no war in Nigeria in Jesus name.</div>
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Still saying amen?</div>
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Good.</div>
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Whichever way the wind blows after today - whether towards CHANGE or CONTINUITY - life goes on.</div>
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#PeaceNotViolence</div>
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#NigeriaDecides2015</div>
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#StandForPeace </div>
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#SaiPeace</div>
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#PrayForPeace</div>
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#LetLovePrevail</div>
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<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-70525687360950040122015-02-21T00:24:00.001-06:002015-04-21T08:11:27.844-05:00Helping Kids Choose Career Paths<div style="text-align: justify;">
<img alt="CareerKids-group" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-928" src="http://images.scottauch.com/media/2013/05/CareerKids-group.jpg" height="248" width="400" /> </div>
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<a href="http://www.scottauch.com/project/monroe-career-kids/" target="_blank">Source</a></div>
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My 6yr old little man, D1 now wants to be a Doctor, a Chef and a Teacher. Together.</div>
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D2 is now 4yrs and still wants to be a <a href="http://biolaleye.blogspot.com/2014/10/futures-pastpasts-future.html" target="_blank">Doctor</a>. </div>
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You ever seen anyone with combined honors <i>a la</i> career before?</div>
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Maybe it's going to start with my boy, D1. </div>
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Don't. Dare. Laugh. Yet.</div>
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<a href="http://biolaleye.blogspot.com/2014/10/futures-pastpasts-future.html" target="_blank">Remember this post</a> where he wanted to be a Doctor, an Engineer and a Pastor? Now the tides have apparently turned and the Pastor option has been eliminated in less than a year and the Chef option introduced into the equation. <a name='more'></a><br /></div>
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He has picked an interest in cooking and is always with me in the kitchen, asking to help out with dishes and all. </div>
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His music lessons are one of the highlights of his week because he loves playing musical instruments, loves writing stories and sketching / drawing. He also loves making 'new inventions' with papers, old toys, rubber bands, clothes, etc. And he's always flaunting and waving his 'inventions' in everybody's faces, whether you like it or not...<i>'</i></div>
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<i>''mummy, see my new invention, is this not brilliant...?''</i></div>
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<i>''Wow...this is very brilliant. Beautiful. You are a genius'' </i></div>
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<i>*high 5* *big grin* *runs off to explore more*</i></div>
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See how he is really rocking everything right now? I love that boy, he's always brimming with ideas. </div>
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His new 'career mix' has been on for more than two weeks and blissfully enough, two of his classmates -Tam & Op too have the same 'career mix' and he proudly announces daily that he is happy because the three of them would be friends for ever, attending the same secondary school and university. Children.</div>
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So sweet.</div>
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I was there before. #BeenThereDoneThat.</div>
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That confusingly sweet state where your oblivion of the 'real' world merges with the desire to be everything with the limitless options spread out before you. Blissful Ignorance.</div>
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<i>"Mummy, I don't even know which one to choose so I want to be everything - together" </i></div>
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<i>Hian. </i></div>
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<i>"Don't worry about that, when you're older, you'd know which 'job' you really want"</i></div>
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Typical mommy-response. Last time I checked, he could barely wipe his own butt...well enough. </div>
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Methinks it is still too early in the day but you can hardly dampen a
young boy's spirit by telling him he does not know what he's talking
about yet. </div>
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Considering his age, that crucial decision is still a long way off but there is seriously no harm in preparing ahead.</div>
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Very weird that he has never thought of photography as a career option considering the number of selfies and videos...yes you read that right...on my phone and hubby's phone too. He takes pictures of himself and everyone and everything else from different angles, gives speech / talks into the camera and stuffs. Hundreds of files that we keep deleting every time.</div>
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Children.</div>
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At a time, because he loves policemen and is always waving when we drive past them, he wanted to become one which I rejected loudly to hubby's amusement. He still wonders what is wrong with being a Policeman and I always reply, not in Nigeria. Lol. </div>
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As parents, few of us might naturally desire our offspring to take right after us in career choices. While few won't ever want that. Yet to see or hear an armed robber confessing of pushing their offspring into the same 'business'.</div>
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To be honest with you, I seriously wanted one of them to be a Doctor and the other an Engineer. </div>
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Just. Because. </div>
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One of the great rewards of the long-haul parenting might just turn out to be seeing your children following your footsteps.</div>
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But not anymore, at least not in this age.</div>
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If we have to go by the research findings of <a href="http://ancenstry.co.uk/">ancenstry.co.uk</a>, then only 7% of children today may end up following the career paths of their parents.</div>
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Take a moment to look around you and check how many children are actually following or followed in their parents' footsteps...starting with YOU.</div>
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<b>Did you? Are you in the same profession as your parents?</b></div>
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<a href="http://www.ancestryeurope.ie/press/press-releases/uk/2013/04/04" target="_blank">Research</a> has shown that about half of the children of the Victorian era took after their parents where careers are concerned but today, the percentage of parents encouraging their wards to choose different
career options are reportedly 42% while those who still wants their
children to continue in their line are put at 11%. </div>
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The reason may be because a good number of our generation were 'driven' and 'steered' towards our parents' career choices but most ended up detesting those choices and living unfulfilled lives. And today, we want our children to be happier, more fulfilled and successful than we are and in most cases to explore new roles which are more exciting.</div>
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Somebody once told me there are two very important decisions in life you cannot afford to get wrong -Career and Marriage. If you get either wrong, you may end up being miserable for the rest of your lives.</div>
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Another research puts the statistic of adults dissatisfied with their jobs at 54%. Working adults who are not engaged but merely enduring their jobs, putting in time..marking time for want of better options. </div>
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Considering everything, I'd say to myself today- DON'T PUSH, allow them follow their hearts and forge their own paths in life. But we are definitely not going to leave it entirely to them to figure it out alone when they grow older. It may not work out well that way.</div>
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We can <b>prayerfully</b> allow our children to forge their own paths, encourage them along those paths and when the time comes and they are old enough, assist them in every way and:</div>
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<li>Initiate lots of heart-to-heart conversation with them on what exactly they want from life, what they want to do and what they think would bring them joy. If their career path differs from ours, would not try to pigeon-hole them into ours. Just. Because.</li>
<li>Lay out the basics and paint the true picture of what each chosen path looks like and is likely to look like in the nearest future. Would let them know that work can be enjoyable, fun and exciting...but it can also be crazily tedious so they have to be fully prepared.</li>
<li>Research together their preferred careers and probably have them speak with familiar faces already in the field to have a real-life account of what it is really about</li>
<li>Deliberately expose them to more career options to broaden their view. Maybe the current career mix is as a result of limited exposure...who knows? There are several exciting career options out there which they may not come across unless we make intentional efforts to expose them</li>
<li>Arrange some form of work-experience with organizations in the area of their interests to aid their decision making process. I remember two brilliant young secondary school girls who came to where I work for a brief internship in 2014 just to have a feel of what electrical engineering looks / feels like to enable them decide on whether they really wants it and would be able to cope with that career option.</li>
<li>Find out what they are passionate about and encourage them to explore it because they may likely succeed more doing meaningful, energizing works in their areas of passion or careers associated with them. Will never discourage D1 from making 'new inventions' or tearing out sheets for his numerous drawings or short stories, etc but will rather encourage him to keep exploring.</li>
<li>Empower them in their areas of interest with the right tools.</li>
<li>Make extra efforts to deeply understand them and empower them to make the right choices by helping them understand their talents and how it aligns with available career options.</li>
<li>Lastly and most importantly, help them on with prayers for a clear vision and mind to help them through taking the right decisions so they can make a huge positive difference in their world. </li>
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Having said all, it would still give me great <strike>selfish</strike> joy to see both little men taking after mum and dad but if God has better plans for them and they grow up desiring some other paths, we'd definitely support and encourage them. </div>
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What do you think?</div>
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Did you follow in your parent's footsteps? </div>
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Would you like your children follow your footsteps,career-wise? </div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-2514438895432129842015-02-20T08:58:00.002-06:002015-02-20T08:58:53.542-06:00Kindred Spirits<div class="irc_mutc">
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<a class="irc_mutl" data-ved="0CAcQjRw" href="https://www.google.co.uk/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0CAcQjRw&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Ffunkymonkey3167%2Fkindred-spirits%2F&ei=lRXnVLXEF87jaIq4goAK&bvm=bv.86475890,d.d2s&psig=AFQjCNGiuv57WsRIWmqD5muKdsNNaVoW1Q&ust=1424516859076379" jsaction="mousedown:irc.rl;keydown:irc.rlk"><img class="irc_mut" height="297" src="data:image/jpeg;base64,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" style="margin-top: 67px;" width="236" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.pinterest.com/funkymonkey3167/kindred-spirits/" target="_blank">Source</a></div>
</div>
Your s<strong>mi</strong>le cracks through li<strong>ke</strong> the morning dew<br />
Yet through it all your heart cries shine forth<br />
Try as you may to mask the painful thoughts<br />
Yet they bubble through like brew<br />
<br />
We know God's care is sacrosanct, but life is hardly fair<br />
Often wearying her loyal inhabitants<br />
As she relishes dishing out mixed croissants<br />
But hunger for more, we dare<br />
<br />
Friends are sent from above to hold our hearts and hands<br />
Sweet companions on the journey fraught with joys and pains<br />
Trying to assuage regardless of gains<br />
But we need to navigate the bumps minding the bands<br />
<br />
Tears and groaning will soon be gone<br />
For we see the glimmers peeking from behind the cloud<br />
Struggling to break free to embrace, and you to warmly daub<br />
But with the struggles, one more time, we need be done<br />
<br />
The heart yearns to make it better<br />
Yet worse it might become<br />
As we struggle to find answers alone on the dome<br />
Which has since threatened to become a crater<br />
<br />
Raise your head and look to Him, grit not your teeth<br />
As you try to suppress the feelings and anguish<br />
While hands and hearts we hold on the pitch <br />
Like kindred spirits.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: magenta;">*To YOU and everyone going through any form of painful situation, distress or confusion...look solely up to <strong>HIM</strong> for solutions...lean 'slightly' on friends and remain STRONG...you are not alone*</span> <div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-4917149662773763852015-02-17T11:00:00.000-06:002015-02-17T11:47:36.460-06:00So Different...Yet the Same<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://aprojectforkindness.files.wordpress.com/2015/01/color-block.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" id="irc_mi" src="https://aprojectforkindness.files.wordpress.com/2015/01/color-block.jpg" style="margin-top: 0px;" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisIfQGxkohtDD7HlF-kIDaUv1_4YfTl55Ef_t2LDAYCcXJTya9fekJr7Oc43cBWmmYFzs7L8iQlmHXiniBzt6VViUjOPsiMoBGGWqqvPwmRPDq7r4X638BIhXALXhiHWobsncNI1U9ywUm/s1600/DSC_0144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisIfQGxkohtDD7HlF-kIDaUv1_4YfTl55Ef_t2LDAYCcXJTya9fekJr7Oc43cBWmmYFzs7L8iQlmHXiniBzt6VViUjOPsiMoBGGWqqvPwmRPDq7r4X638BIhXALXhiHWobsncNI1U9ywUm/s1600/DSC_0144.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></div>
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I hate to think my boys are the only kids that ask cringe-worthy questions, and in public places too.<br />
<br />
You know questions that make you feel like O.M.G...not so loud...and not here!<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>You ever been there?<br />
<br />
Kids tend to exhibit their curious state anywhere and everywhere and God help you if you are close by without a ready answer, carefully thought out or not.<br />
<br />
As parents, we may sometimes need/want to 'save face' and end up sacrificing having to rightly address their curiosity on the altar of embarrassment, particularly in public places and when the tide isn't exactly favorable.<br />
<br />
The 'different' questions come often and if you are like me, you may have slammed the lid on their curiosity about differences and diversity by hushing them or at best telling them we are all the same, without elaborating further.<br />
<br />
Kids are really just mini-adults with <strike>super</strike> sharp minds...more observant and detailed <strike>than adults</strike>, ...and very quick to pick out (and voice out) differences all around them.<br />
<br />
Differences in their school bags, differences in their lunch packs, differences in shoes, differences in facial expressions, differences in appearance, differences everywhere.<br />
<br />
Differences in color. How red differs from blue...yellow from green...black from white.<br />
<br />
I wonder about colors...so do they.<br />
<br />
They ask questions about colors and things they see or imagine.<br />
<br />
D1 asks about a million questions per day. Okay, I exaggerate a little...nope, much...but he has a very inquisitive mind.<br />
<br />
<i>Why is that man walking with a stick?</i><br />
<i>Why is that woman sitting on the wheel chair?</i><br />
<i>Is her leg paining her?</i><br />
<br />
<i>Why is D2's tummy bigger than my own?</i><br />
<i>Are you thinking about your mother that died when her car somersaulted?</i> (Out of the blues when I'm pensive)<br />
<br />
<i>Why do cats like fish? Why do the mouse like cheese?</i><br />
<i>Lion and tiger, are they the same? </i><br />
<i>Why is the lion called the king of the jungle? </i><br />
<i>The lion and tiger, which one is stronger?</i><br />
<i>Can a lion kill an elephant? </i><br />
<br />
<i>Why can't God make cats like cheese and mouse like fish?</i><br />
<i>Are the Chibok girls not children of God?</i><br />
<i>Why do God allow people to die? </i><br />
<br />
<i>Why is it dark?</i><br />
<i>Why....</i><br />
<i>Why is it white?</i><br />
<i>Why is he white?</i><br />
<br />
Like he asked out loud at the Supermarket when we stopped by to pick up groceries on our way from school yesterday evening.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><i>"Mummy, that man is really white...is he a foreigner?" </i></span>(He's currently having mid-term tests in school and the topic of 'foreigners' came up during Social Studies revision time)<br />
<br />
And like the typical mum...hush...hush...shhhh<br />
<br />
That's rude. <br />
Or just plain curiosity.<br />
<br />
<strike>We</strike> I tend to cloud their unassuming and harmless observations and questions with <strike>our</strike> my 'superior' judgement..sometimes.<br />
<br />
I looked at 'me' and I looked at him...and at the 'foreigner' who thankfully was not paying attention to the little 6year old and his <strike>silly</strike> mum.<br />
<br />
Would I allow him bear the weight of 'shhhhed' unanswered questions just to avoid 'embarrassment'?<br />
Would I allow him form his own opinions without guidance?<br />
What's a parent to do...every time?<br />
<br />
Worse still...would I rather these boys move away from anyone perceived to be different from them? <br />
<br />
Different in appearance, skin color...religion...opinions...etc?<br />
<br />
I think of the men I want these boys to grow into...men that hold the hand of the lonely...men that speak out against ills...men that wouldn't allow color color their perceptions (pun intended)...men that positively impact their generation...men that embraces all regardless of religious inclinations or social standing...regardless of color of skin or hair...regardless of physical differences ...regardless of educational differences and I think of the mother I need to be...<br />
<br />
...a mother that patiently encourages questions and stimulates their inquisitive hearts by answering all questions as truthfully as she could. (hand on chest...God help me)<br />
<div id="stcpDiv" style="left: -1988px; position: absolute; top: -1999px;">
If
your child has questions about differences in physical characteristics
or cultural practices, discuss them openly. This teaches your child that
it’s okay to notice differences, and more importantly, it teaches him
that it’s good to talk about them. Learning to appreciate all kinds of
differences—not just racial and cultural but differences in
socioeconomic levels, gender, and even disabilities is an important
skill in today’s diverse society. - See more at:
http://www.quickanddirtytips.com/parenting/school-age/10-ways-to-teach-kids-about-diversity#sthash.Yp9gcN4T.dpuf</div>
...a mother who encourages questions about physical or cultural differences and <b>openly</b> discusses them.<br />
...a mother who teaches her kids it's okay to observe differences and <b>loudly or quietly</b> ask about them.<br />
...a mother who teaches her children to appreciate all kinds of differences -be it cultural, racial, educational, gender, social, economic and even disabilities. <br />
<br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><i>"mummy, I.B too is white in my class" </i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><i>"I.B is not white, just lighter than you in complexion" </i></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><i>"Ok". </i></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><i>"Does he eat in class like you?"</i></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><i>"Yes, mum"</i></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><i>"He's your friend, isn't he?"</i></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><i>"Yes". </i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><i>"See, I.B is not really different...he does everything you do".</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><i>"See...that man too is buying bread and we are also here to buy Semolina (and beverages)</i></span>" (Of course, delivered 'hush-hushly')<br />
<br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><i>"So he goes hungry and eats like us"</i></span><br />
<br />
Although we look different, we are really all the same, my boy...created by the same God.<br />
We are all the same...yet different, with or without the same skin color....with the same color of blood flowing in us.<br />
<br />
He's white, we are darker. <br />
We are different yet the same...same on the inside, driven by the same hunger - goals and aspirations.<br />
We can join hands and dance the 'victors' dance and sing...'cos we have the same features, same capabilities... <br />
<br />
Different does not equate ugly...different does not equate bad.<br />
Same is good...different is great.<br />
<br />
So our dear 'different' friends, be kind enough not to cringe when a certain 6year old wonders aloud and also please permit his silly mum ramble through the truth of our diversity.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>(Definitely going to use the eggs to drive it home further...in the morning) </b></span><br />
<br />
<img height="320" id="irc_mi" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/9e/e9/cf/9ee9cfd182dbc4b49ebb44abf35dc60e.jpg" style="margin-top: 79px;" width="320" /><br />
<a href="https://www.google.com.ng/search?q=teaching+kids+about+diversity&biw=1366&bih=633&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=elHiVLevMcPKaIjzgpAB&sqi=2&ved=0CAYQ_AUoAQ#imgdii=_&imgrc=3DDuO3nFEjBY_M%253A%3BDVPk5xmRWemozM%3Bhttps%253A%252F%252Faprojectforkindness.files.wordpress.com%252F2015%252F01%252Fcolor-block.jpg%3Bhttps%253A%252F%252Faprojectforkindness.wordpress.com%252Fpage%252F4%252F%3B943%3B943" target="_blank">Source</a><br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-4042507540073033922015-02-15T00:34:00.001-06:002015-02-15T13:56:26.455-06:00Diverse Faces of Love...(I)<br />
I see it sitting pretty<br />
Sandwiched between the longings of lonely hearts<br />
How high could beauty get<br />
Bestowing the pleasure of its grace on expectant races<br />
<br />
I touch it ever so dainty<br />
Warming up to the allure of its beautiful parts<br />
How often did they fret<br />
Flowing from the dark recesses of tired paces<br />
<br />
They hold it so lofty<br />
Grateful for the wondrous pleasure of its gaiety<br />
How beautiful could love get<br />
Illuminating unknown lives from the diverse outlets of her many faces.<br />
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So yesterday was Valentine's day...happy belated 'Valentine', Dearies...<br />
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How did you 'spend' the day? Out or in? <br />
<br />
But I'm still here wondering how February 14 day came to assume this level of humongous importance in our lives.<br />
<br />
Do you realize it's gradually turning into a commercial holiday of sorts? I went out briefly yesterday (for 'business' <i>ni o</i>), come and see red and white colors everywhere...I'm sure <i>dem</i> fast food outlets, joints, hotels, confectioners etc smiled to the banks yesterday. <br />
<br />
I <strike>read</strike> hear the day was not all candy+flower+red+white+cards+cakes when it all started.<br />
<br />
Delving into history helped by Google, my friend...the tradition was actually birthed in tragedy and there are more than one angle to how the day came into being.<br />
<br />
One version, probably the most popular revealed that roman Emperor Claudius II decreed that every young soldier should refrain from getting married so they could be better warriors but Bishop Valentine defied the emperor and secretly married willing soldier grooms and their brides. On being found, he was jailed and eventually killed...another angle claimed he fell in love with the jailer's daughter who visited him in prison and to whom he sent a letter signed with 'from your Valentine' after which he was martyred.<br />
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That Emperor <i>sef</i>...very mean,<br />
<br />
Very few people know the story behind the tradition but it doesn't matter now if some goodly + Godly kindness flow around all in the name of love.<br />
<br />
But I've come to realize that the kindness do not really flow around, we all tend to be absorbent like a squishy sponge...we exchange gifts with our loved ones only and that's that. <br />
<br />
I also need someone to educate me...how did red come into the picture?<br />
That question came about because <span style="background-color: red;">RED</span> and <span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">WHITE</span></span> seems to be the official valentine colors.<br />
Sorry but I'm still a learner...*insert smiley emoticon*<br />
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So, yesterday, I saw the flurry of activities on FB, Instagram and BB and in order not to be left out, I also had to change my DP...to one of the guys that recently made me believe more in love. Very random but poignant.<br />
<br />
And my profile message (still) reads: <b>In the flurry of VAL, remember LOVE is also about doing good to those who can't repay you...those who may/not love you back + you've got 365 days to do the loving, not one day.</b><br />
<br />
That pretty much sums it up for me...giving Chocolates, flowers, cards, and stuffs are good...I love <strike>sweet</strike> good things and gifts too but we should always spare a thought for those on 'the other side'...spare a thought for those whom valentine does not even feature on their worry list...those for whom the only item on their list is plain<b> SURVIVAL</b>.<br />
<br />
But, to each his own.<br />
<br />
Because it is 'officially' the love season and...I love love
and...I believe in love and I have faith that there's still some
residual hope left in humanity in the midst of all the craziness and
chaos, I would like to introduce a special series which I have tagged the 'Diverse Faces of Love' series to you.<br />
<br />
Have I mentioned here before that I am a firm believer in LOVE?<br />
I am....and I am sharing this series with y'all..<br />
Just. Because.<br />
I. Love. You.<br />
Yes, it's true *in D2's voice*<br />
<br />
The series is to celebrate some unique humans who have succeeded in using their influence to 'better' the lives of others, relatively unknown.<br />
I love heartwarming stories of unusual love and I want to share here and preserve some of these 'little' acts of great kindness.<br />
So, here we go...<br />
<u><br /></u>
<u>Diverse Faces of Love...I</u><br />
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBhOeRQaqSVJydyxzYfRG2S7rSRMYfOvlnEsEHXGJctsymKOHJbnxX0z1dab-D_pSXmHQdNRNKX87bFyRDGLc5erLKEDaMiYN3AjHYzS0krvqUDthuwIsV01CYYylGZNC-95OhrgFoO8qn/s200/modupe_ozolua_695091168.jpg" height="163" id="irc_mi" style="margin-top: 50px;" width="200" /><img class="irc_mut" height="161" src="https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQd5jVa8g6DZ1UChxGd6xi2PmqfLgvemPdURtQlhEVYX9DMuTMu" style="margin-top: 0px;" width="200" /><br />
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See how beautiful that F.O.L is?<br />
She is Modupe Ozolua, a body enhancement professional.<br />
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And no, I don't know her and neither do I 'do' body enhancement but I love her. <br />
<br />
Just. Because. <br />
She touched my heart with her acts.<br />
<br />
She did one of the things I love and pray to do but could not due to lack of resources.<br />
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<img alt="dupe ozolua" class="aligncenter wp-image-4105" src="http://i2.wp.com/peoplespostng.com/news/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/dupe-ozolua.jpg?resize=417%2C276" height="209" width="320" /><img alt="" class="wp-image-4060" src="http://i1.wp.com/peoplespostng.com/news/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/10996494_10153008308745469_434076938448942176_n.jpg?resize=416%2C416" height="200" width="200" /><br />
<a href="http://peoplespostng.com/news/2015/02/13/photosmodupe-ozolua-rehabilitates-internally-displaced-nigerians-in-gombe/" target="_blank">Source</a><br />
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See the smiles on the women's faces? #PowerOfLove</div>
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She basically used her <b>influence</b> and <b>resources</b> to provide shelter and means of livelihood for some internally displaced women in Gombe State -one of the states ravaged by <b>Boko haram.</b></div>
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She gave out to the women start-up capitals, sewing machines, new fabrics to start trading, knitting kits, items for groundnut processing, cartons of food and also paid rent for some families and all these were done through her Body Enhancement Foundation.<b> </b></div>
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Kudos to her.<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>If that is not love, I don't know what else it is. </b></div>
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PS: We may not have that much influence or that much resources...but we can still stir the waters in our little space and a little could go a long way...for someone in despair. </div>
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PPS: We may not invite the media before making donations or presentations...but the little done in the corner of our room from a sincere heart would never go unnoticed or unrewarded. <b> </b> </div>
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PPPS: How did you 'celebrate' valentine?</div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">*The original title I chose for the series was 'Face of Love' but I just realized a few minutes ago there is a movie with that title and I quickly modified it to 'Diverse Faces of Love* before I got slammed...I can't shout*</span></span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3513992600551480378.post-14936728806344249292015-02-03T13:39:00.000-06:002015-02-15T13:56:06.309-06:00DIY: LOVEly Fabric Accessory<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09rIvZ-H6NCXOslBPqAlQIvOq9_7Q2AzSQ8eJ9jf5J8CQqs3iHaQ6sRr8FbLJUrJ2HVaezr8AL2yO-K0K5ZvPP6Os8ZX8IdpFj1s7t9Rt3sE20RDbR5cZLxRKnbAio92rTVsTDR4MUO06/s1600/IMG-20150126-00696.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09rIvZ-H6NCXOslBPqAlQIvOq9_7Q2AzSQ8eJ9jf5J8CQqs3iHaQ6sRr8FbLJUrJ2HVaezr8AL2yO-K0K5ZvPP6Os8ZX8IdpFj1s7t9Rt3sE20RDbR5cZLxRKnbAio92rTVsTDR4MUO06/s1600/IMG-20150126-00696.jpg" height="186" width="320" /></a></div>
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These pretty LOVEly accessories are really easy to make. See the shape? </div>
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You know how elections have been scheduled to hold on February 14 in Nigeria and how it's going to be an actively bleak day for those who have dedicated that day to 'celebration of love'...I mean 'those' that always go (all) out to celebrate Valentine or love every 14th of February.</div>
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Dedicating a day to love is not a bad thing in itself but methink everyday should involve some 'celebration' of sorts...you know...lovingly touching somebody's life... </div>
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Sorry peeps, next year is another date if the world is still where it is... and I totally agree with you...'those' people that couldn't pick any other day than 'that day' are a bunch of spoil sports...lol</div>
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Seeing as you would be scooped up all day long in the house- after you must have exercised your civic right / duty by 'voting', I am coming to the rescue with this little 'love-themed' craft to pass the time.</div>
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For what better way is there to occupy yourself than to rustle in your closet for fabric scraps and putting together one or two or three of these handy pieces? </div>
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Try this out and thank me later.</div>
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<b>Materials needed:</b></div>
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Fabric scraps (to cut out heart shaped petals, round base and rectangular strip)</div>
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Stencil / pattern</div>
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Scissors or cutter or blade</div>
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Needle and thread or glue</div>
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Alligator clip or Elastic or rubber (if you prefer it as a hair band)</div>
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Brooch pin or safety pin (if you would rather have it as a brooch)</div>
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Embellishment (button, bead, crystal, gem, etc)</div>
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<b>Just a few simple steps required:</b></div>
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(im)Perfectly draw (Free-hand) a heart / love shape on a paper or use a stencil (feel free to make it as big or small as you want);</div>
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Lay the heart pattern on your fabric and cut out as many pieces as you like;</div>
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Cut out a round piece from the same fabric (to be used as base on which the petals would be glued);</div>
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Cut out a small rectangular strip onto which the pin / elastic band / clip would be attached if desired;</div>
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Arrange petals on the round base and glue / sew each piece in place</div>
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Fold the rectangular strip to form an 'O' and glue or sew onto the round base.</div>
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Attach your brooch pin / alligator clip to the strip; slip in your elastic into the now circular strip and sew the two ends shut</div>
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Attach a button or any other gem/embellishment of your choice to the center of the piece.</div>
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Piece of cake!</div>
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C'est finis. </div>
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Done.</div>
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Give yourself a pat on the back.</div>
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Whenever you are feeling bored, just get out those scraps and make some more. If you like it stiffer, you may make use of Felt as the main fabric or use stiffener on your soft fabric..</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNGFQZgGiBEj4m0ZCmQAOqrvFDiUjadNR-cqLEKKJLO6od7f3UbKrvT-Lq8l5MYYMczedrAE2LvNZKO0EqK2nTQsDlE63EJ6Nw_r6r6LzjUCm595RaJB0MH3WjLLW-qmq8ikCF3cjGn0YP/s1600/IMG-20150126-00681.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNGFQZgGiBEj4m0ZCmQAOqrvFDiUjadNR-cqLEKKJLO6od7f3UbKrvT-Lq8l5MYYMczedrAE2LvNZKO0EqK2nTQsDlE63EJ6Nw_r6r6LzjUCm595RaJB0MH3WjLLW-qmq8ikCF3cjGn0YP/s1600/IMG-20150126-00681.jpg" height="202" width="320" /></a></div>
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Cut-out heart shaped petals from Ankara fabric</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheCtjL3pqLe33vj2GZQFYXjEkEcVljugAmTQFIuQCjb299S4wMBLt4VBz-XTC1h2lV3CbxXDVMx1LL5bIqTGqIAT-dtm98mWhw5RfGx1sftn-v3EA5WIHN0gNL40WPIZQIXGlq6ZodwNej/s1600/IMG-20150126-00682.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheCtjL3pqLe33vj2GZQFYXjEkEcVljugAmTQFIuQCjb299S4wMBLt4VBz-XTC1h2lV3CbxXDVMx1LL5bIqTGqIAT-dtm98mWhw5RfGx1sftn-v3EA5WIHN0gNL40WPIZQIXGlq6ZodwNej/s1600/IMG-20150126-00682.jpg" height="243" width="320" /></a></div>
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Round piece for the base and rectangular strip for the pin </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinqUInb4KNk_YsWY4XlNgvLGHTvRgKKQ2XNNvO058oNzKx1knhh55FanLLa92sEy4kKXzly7CpfBetqLsWUXoPnSpQ_E0TLol_6PjK1P2JKnyJurlv3UEBQRYPmrFH8HDyFfbhdIhi2SyN/s1600/IMG-20150126-00684.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinqUInb4KNk_YsWY4XlNgvLGHTvRgKKQ2XNNvO058oNzKx1knhh55FanLLa92sEy4kKXzly7CpfBetqLsWUXoPnSpQ_E0TLol_6PjK1P2JKnyJurlv3UEBQRYPmrFH8HDyFfbhdIhi2SyN/s1600/IMG-20150126-00684.jpg" height="277" width="320" /></a></div>
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The heart shaped petals (6) arranged on the round fabric base </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPT_hcepbyo4ygK92vFm_INYK0DmNpH3rEqJfTQWYbk0uPEssafa5UXReMkodHRFqbGQ5NeZq8TH-QrqjJJYIxfcW0ht3fRNsme4cuq_OcJyRjIyprN_X79bdR9_iAMiEiSzucMt7cfhPu/s1600/IMG-20150126-00685.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPT_hcepbyo4ygK92vFm_INYK0DmNpH3rEqJfTQWYbk0uPEssafa5UXReMkodHRFqbGQ5NeZq8TH-QrqjJJYIxfcW0ht3fRNsme4cuq_OcJyRjIyprN_X79bdR9_iAMiEiSzucMt7cfhPu/s1600/IMG-20150126-00685.jpg" height="293" width="320" /></a></div>
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Petals sewn unto the base</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZtWFBT-E2PN4cMcwfEVzxinZ9WzkkcxjU7t2iwhfrbku_nV6OV2s2gZrf4NszHqFHdWWLJ1rAQTD-vYRkEvYbRJxbIC6C_QoHzPHD1wL0e29jPVL5C3iiTCXgCAorvkdyBCDLFolnv8FM/s1600/IMG-20150126-00688.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZtWFBT-E2PN4cMcwfEVzxinZ9WzkkcxjU7t2iwhfrbku_nV6OV2s2gZrf4NszHqFHdWWLJ1rAQTD-vYRkEvYbRJxbIC6C_QoHzPHD1wL0e29jPVL5C3iiTCXgCAorvkdyBCDLFolnv8FM/s1600/IMG-20150126-00688.jpg" height="269" width="320" /></a></div>
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Playing with different buttons hanging around</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjalqYYAqOT9Yg-x8iPpK-s_oNM9APS0lfelOLfHzwmRiv5BdqqVlpdxVsoYBCkh8JgXrRHnO4iU8EGH81XIUSEVAnZjniUakLi_RfUdy1OW6yIlUXuD1v4mJJv4KfOXa0BTTV_VNaMho4i/s1600/IMG-20150126-00689.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjalqYYAqOT9Yg-x8iPpK-s_oNM9APS0lfelOLfHzwmRiv5BdqqVlpdxVsoYBCkh8JgXrRHnO4iU8EGH81XIUSEVAnZjniUakLi_RfUdy1OW6yIlUXuD1v4mJJv4KfOXa0BTTV_VNaMho4i/s1600/IMG-20150126-00689.jpg" height="263" width="320" /></a></div>
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The winner sewn on the piece</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRMVWkDUU3TdmAe5VbZFOoe4cnJ2I6lPlogqYwahxrSe1UzhDT7O1gj6vlAa6dkkhH-jfc0kycQDPsz171AUTrjCqqrhTSen6qf6UiqaKhAEacxA-Cvq9GFDLsW6egr6waMJGVk4GPPGr8/s1600/IMG-20150126-00690.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRMVWkDUU3TdmAe5VbZFOoe4cnJ2I6lPlogqYwahxrSe1UzhDT7O1gj6vlAa6dkkhH-jfc0kycQDPsz171AUTrjCqqrhTSen6qf6UiqaKhAEacxA-Cvq9GFDLsW6egr6waMJGVk4GPPGr8/s1600/IMG-20150126-00690.jpg" height="243" width="320" /></a></div>
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The back view...doesn't really look pretty from the back...you may want to use a piece of felt for the base or use fabric stiffener on the fabric for better hold</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIzdYC3h3C_2T8K8G5vkQavz0sICYJ2ZNxdRqtQBreAPlf8Gb51Xr2_xMn9r2Xw3h96f_YU4_TQR4H90tuo7GjBDw_bOj3rxcWxLcRpTfJ3AgMonfxHJw6kB1z8kVXtcoxOErYZpMidyc2/s1600/IMG-20150126-00699.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIzdYC3h3C_2T8K8G5vkQavz0sICYJ2ZNxdRqtQBreAPlf8Gb51Xr2_xMn9r2Xw3h96f_YU4_TQR4H90tuo7GjBDw_bOj3rxcWxLcRpTfJ3AgMonfxHJw6kB1z8kVXtcoxOErYZpMidyc2/s1600/IMG-20150126-00699.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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The finished piece nestling on a dress</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkM9gC0xi4pqz-pt8nJ11eDLxim6Cw21Mh3QicVG1p1YI9YlCnRk-VkCGYd2fDcV6LE-W6Lj43E4g0M-8UQE6EPAxIISuOym_MRlnAYM8IxYKluazK5TryVgTkt9-N1BKoY7r-V6FDY7kU/s1600/IMG-20150126-00700.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkM9gC0xi4pqz-pt8nJ11eDLxim6Cw21Mh3QicVG1p1YI9YlCnRk-VkCGYd2fDcV6LE-W6Lj43E4g0M-8UQE6EPAxIISuOym_MRlnAYM8IxYKluazK5TryVgTkt9-N1BKoY7r-V6FDY7kU/s1600/IMG-20150126-00700.jpg" height="320" width="209" /></a></div>
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The second piece snuggling against a wig.</div>
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<b>Now, pick your fave out of the two and tell me what you think.</b></div>
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I think I prefer both as hair-pieces rather than brooch due to the size...what do you think?</div>
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Go on and have fun with this quick hair-craft. I promise this won't take more than 10mins of your time...and you'd have made something 'useable'...</div>
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PS: Yours MUST be neater and more beautiful than these ones o...</div>
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Much love,</div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg, 2021.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Mom in Winnipeg with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.</div>Abiolahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16957454452077890304noreply@blogger.com10