https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog daily 1.0 2025-07-03 https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/life-goes-on- monthly 0.5 2024-06-08 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1717657816834-WUB6V8GAONQNW9VE77IS/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Life Goes On … - Make it stand out A sudden depression hit me after the accident. Why would God allow us to go through all that? What was He thinking? Were we not under enough pressure as it was? Were we not also serving Him faithfully and sacrificially? Where was He anyway? I used to spend a lot of time praying and seeking the face of the Lord, but our situation never seemed to improve. I would make suggestions to God on what He could do to make our lives better and easier, but He never listened. It was a lonely time for me in my walk with God. Although things were tough for us, I still knew that God was with us. He had not abandoned us, rather we were in a school. My pity party continued as I watched other young mothers about my age who had it “all together”. It always stung when I felt snubbed (real or imagined) by someone whom I would consider not better than me in any way. Sometimes I tried so hard to belong but would be ignored stylishly. I would not get invited to certain functions or be treated in a certain way (real or imagined). I shed many a tear in that season. Looking back, I wonder if I was imagining a lot of those things. Maybe it was a case of the “old woman getting uneasy whenever bones were mentioned”. One day I wore a new dress and a new hat to Church. I later told my husband that “so and so” was chatting with me today and it’s probably because I was nicely dressed. He smiled and told me I was imagining it because I was always beautiful. My Kev, what does he know! Our electricity bill was also mounting, and we were both still not working. That week, NEPA brought our overdue unpaid electric bill again. It was never a happy experience seeing “NEPA” coming to your house, especially when you know you are owing over N3000. This was a lot of money back then and it was a miracle we hadn’t been cut off. He stuck the bill into the metre on the wall as I watched him from behind the window curtain. I waited for him to leave the compound before venturing out to get the bill. I was estimating it would be about N3500 by then. I picked up the bill and looked hard at it not believing my eyes. They had made a mistake and billed us N11,500. I let out a long “mtscheeow” sound as only an African woman could, dreading having to sort out the confusion with NEPA. I felt so fed up and dismayed with life. How much worse were things going to get before God intervened? I was glad my husband was around and would be sorting out NEPA, he spoke fluent Warri pidgin. That evening, I took a second look at the bill and discovered that the contrary was the truth, we had been credited the amount. Our entire debt had been paid off with an extra N11,500 as credit. We were not owing anything anymore but were rather in credit. As I looked at the bill, I became conflicted and wondered if someone had made a mistake. I considered going to the NEPA office to report the error but later changed my mind. Whoever had paid the money would definitely go and correct his error. I was so sure that by the next month it would all be straightened out. The error was however never corrected and we ended up enjoying the N14,500 paid on our behalf. It was God once again showing us his love and mercy. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1717657678435-3DBVDVS476VEIK9786K5/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Life Goes On … - Make it stand out I was ecstatic for my two-bedroom mansion, even if it was green. Our new house was practically next door to the children’s school, and I could walk them there if I didn’t feel like driving. It was with excitement I awaited my husband’s arrival so we could start the next phase of our lives. We eventually got settled into our new house which was also not too far from Church. After the “Let’s go a Fishin” outreach, we got posted to a new parish. It was located in a place nicknamed Maroko on the outskirts of Warri, a very poor area with a lot of underprivileged people. The first Sunday we got there, we provided biscuits and squash to the Children’s department as we were setting up. This became a fantastic door opener and before long, all the village children had gathered at the new Church. I was front and centre trying to make friends with them when this little girl ran to me. She looked “special needs”, with her skin covered in scabs and rashes. You couldn’t miss her dirty clothes, bare feet and dried mucus. She came right up to me and raised up her arms smiling. I froze for a moment steeling myself for the ordeal of picking her up. ”Hello little Miss, what’s your name?” I asked, smiling down at her. “De geh” they all chorused. “De geh?” what kind of name is that, I asked, trying my best to keep smiling. The smell was pungent as she wrapped her skinny arms around my neck and her dusty legs around me. I could see her delight as I swung her up and down. Her smile lit up her face showing her yellow plaque-stained teeth. In my head I was already planning to get some medicated soap, toothpaste and antisepcreams for De Geh’s mum. As quickly as the thought came was as quickly as I discarded it. What would her mum think? Was I trying to tell her she couldn’t take care of her baby? Was I so posh that all I could see was her skin infections? These were the first members of our children’s Church and we needed to love them just the way they were. Maroko was a tough terrain, rife with crime and drugs. We spent one day a week fasting and praying for the work we had been assigned to. One day the penny finally dropped; “de geh” was simply “the girl” in our German. I remember one Thursday after service when Kev and I decided to visit mum in the main house. It was a flash visit, and we were eager to leave after a long day in Maroko. As we were driving down Airport Road on our way home, a motorbike (locally called okada) came out of a side street at high speed, overtook us and did a u turn in front of us. As if in slow motion, I watched helplessly as an accident began to unfold before my eyes. The collision was inevitable with Kev slamming on the breaks, swerving and tyres screeching. That period our car horn was not functioning and repairing it would have been a luxury. I couldn’t understand the madness of what the okada rider did. We hit him with such ferocity that he was lifted into the air and onto our wind shield/bonnet. Needless to say, he smashed it and fell to the ground on his bike. We sat for a moment frozen in shock as all other okada riders surrounded us. You could feel the hostility in the air as the mob continued to grow. At that time in Warri, it was jungle justice for any car that had the misfortune of hitting an okada. They would instantly lynch motorists who they felt were taking advantage of their “vulnerability”. After a few tense seconds, we scrambled out of the car to inspect the casualty on the ground. He was a bloody mess, injured but still alive. We got him into the car and took him to the nearest clinic for treatment. I’m not sure how much we had between Kev and I, but it wasn’t near enough to cover the expenses. We also had a damaged car and a motorbike to fix. No one believed that Mr Okada was at fault, the car driver was always considered the culprit. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1717657921853-919XU0MM52NLUD7SKPA7/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Life Goes On … - Make it stand out In that season, we never had money in abundance, we always had just enough. Every new school term when the children’s school fees was due, my husband would be called to do a private survey job which would take care of the fees. Whenever there was a need, a big job would come. I remember during that period, a family decided to send us their huge tithe because they knew my husband was a pastor. We graciously accepted it as God’s provision for our needs. My greatest worry was that I still didn’t have a proper job as it was the holiday season. My private teaching job had come to end because Jimmy would be off to secondary school in September. I remember us having a special programme in Church in late July, and I asked God to give me a proper job by September. The Minister prayed for us and told us it was done, that we should believe God and thank Him. I went home and wrote it in my journal and forgot all about that encounter. Once again, on a busy August afternoon we went into the Shell Estate in Edjeba to speak with one of the service providers for our ongoing Church Event. I was exhausted having been running around all day for the programme. Just as we were about to leave, one beautiful, dark-skinned lady came to speak with me. She had sleepy looking eyes and was well put together. She asked if I was Hennang, and I answered yes. She said she had been looking for me because about three people had recommended me to her saying I would be a perfect fit for her new school as a French teacher. I was gob smacked but ecstatic. This was more than I had hoped for. She invited me to see her when school resumed for a proper chat. It was the last day of August 2000 just as I had requested from God. He had indeed come through for me. This began my life as a teacher with Lakeland School in Warri. So far, it’s been the best experience of my work life, all thanks to the angel God sent, Mrs Angela Osaruwense. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1717658086256-MNBDFG6DLE4X0TQJASSM/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Life Goes On … - Make it stand out To be continued as a book: Thank you for faithfully reading my blogs. Thanks also to all those who have encouraged me to write a book. I have finally decided to take the plunge and turn my life story into a short e-book. I have never written a book before and I’m not sure who would want to read about my life story (except you guys ). Can I please plead with you to encourage my effort by buying it. My target is to have the completed work by September 2024. Its only 40,000 additional words :( There is still so much to write about as I reminisce over Gods fire and His faithfulness. I want to share how He relocated us to the UK in seemingly one day, a few days before we were meant to move to Port Harcourt. We were all packed and ready to go when my Kev arrived on a Thursday night and said “get ready, we’re leaving for the UK on Sunday” Please leave a comment below, especially those reading from Iran, Sweden, Singapore, Russia and all those faraway lands. Drop your name and location. Watch this space!! … and buy the ebook https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1717657010310-WIHEZDBU2BH5QQ1KNYUC/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Life Goes On … - Make it stand out Two weeks later, we returned to Warri, and I felt so fortunate to have my job still waiting for me. I made my way to the Shell Estate in Ogunu twice a week for my French classes with Jimmy. One thing I always looked forward to, was the cup of tea I got from the cook. It would be delivered to our classroom behind the main house and that tea always tasted so good. It was not one of our local Nigerian blends but imported from the UK, the highlight of my day. I remember one day Jimmy asking me where I went to for my summer holidays, and if I travelled abroad with my family? I just laughed in my head, holiday? Abroad? I told him I didn’t normally travel anywhere except to Jos to see my mum. By early February, we had our annual Pastors wives’ meeting with Mummy G.O in the Lagos Redemption Camp. Attendance was compulsory and so, I had no choice but to go. I took my children to Aghogho, my “co-wife”, who was married to my husband’s younger brother. She was a sweet lady, always with an open house for my children. She took all three of them and I was soon on my way to Lagos. I can’t remember the content of the meeting except for one night that still stands out. That night, I decided to pray after the session in the auditorium. I went on the altar and fell flat on my face intending to pray. As hard as I tried, the words would not come out. It felt like I had a large lump in my throat that wouldn’t allow me to speak. In a moment, the flood gates were opened as hot tears started flowing down to the back of my hands and unto the carpet on the altar. I wept and wept and wept and wept, with my body heaving uncontrollably. I didn’t care if the whole world was watching me, all I wanted was an audience with my Father, the King of Kings. The only thing I could mutter was “Lord, have mercy on me, have mercy on me.” I had so much to say but my tongue seemed disconnected to my brain as I couldn’t speak. Forming the right words in prayer was impossible. Where would I start from? Which problem would I present to the Lord first? Was it the much-needed house? The job I needed? School fees for the children? The dreaded laundry? There were too many things I was grappling with, and I needed help in everything. I was just so overwhelmed with life and could not see the light at the end of any tunnel. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1717657164895-7BAL0TWEA9ODY2AAYYTY/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Life Goes On … - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1717657402918-WPW5YN06FGHI01DXAF58/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Life Goes On … - Make it stand out The response I got from Biola was a pleasant surprise. She said they were actually on their way out of Warri as her husband had recently landed a new job in Lagos. She said the house would be up for rent and if I was interested, she would tell the Landlord to secure it for us. Without batting an eye, I told her yes, we were interested in the house. There was no time to lose, good houses were difficult to get in Warri, especially one in such a choice location. I was sure my husband wouldn’t mind, besides there was no way of reaching him immediately. I felt I had nothing to lose, the worst outcome would be a no from my husband. Biola took me seriously and set the ball rolling. The next day, Peju and I continued with our runs. We needed to pick up a few things from Mrs Tina Aikore, another pastors wife. During our chit-chat, I mentioned casually that I had seen the “the most beautiful house in Warri”. Little did I know that what I had said had stuck her. Unbeknownst to me, she contacted her husband and other brethren to see how they could assist with securing the house until my husband came. By the following week, he arrived for the Easter break, and I was trying to muster up the courage to tell him what I had done. Unfortunately, his friend beat me to it. Patrick Anenu confidently asked him “how far with the house”. You could imagine my husband’s confusion. To cut a long story short, after a very intense discussion with him about finances, he finally agreed with me to go along and see the landlord. Yes, we got the house but couldn’t collect the keys immediately. After my husband left for school, I eventually got the house keys and decided to move in as soon as possible. There were no mobile phones to speak with my husband and so I requested the use of a pickup truck and driver from his friend, Bros Pee (Patrick Anenu). I told my partner in crime (Grandma) and she gave me her blessing to move into my new home. I single handedly went round to our storage locations and picked up all that I needed. I got the carpet for the living room, the dining table, the massive family bed, my kitchen stuff and everything I had in my little apartment. It was heaven on earth to be in my new home. That first day, I was too exhausted to do anything but to crash on the mattress with my three children. The carpet was laid out in the living room and I put the XL mattress on it, directly under the fan. I concluded it would be big enough for me and my children who were aged six, four and one and half. We would sleep vertically on it and if anyone rolled off the bed, it wouldn’t be a far fall. They would survive. We had our TV and game, the only thing missing was my gas cooker. In the interim I had to use a kerosene stove which was far from safe. It had this habit of exploding once it got hot. I had to time it and plan the explosions into my cooking routine. It happened about every 15 minutes, and it was a loud BOOM. Whatever I needed to do would need to happen before the next BOOM. I would open the pot, add whatever needed adding, stir, taste, add more, check my timer, cover the pot and move away, BOOM. My cooking experience was laughable, but I wouldn’t have swapped it for anything, BOOM. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/wj0rs4fhzgx3rzgs9db9by9nax7ed9 monthly 0.5 2025-01-26 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1714932216209-971KE1WI62EM6Q0P1YZ5/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Meet the In-Laws - Make it stand out God also provided a job for me through Moji. An expatriate family in Shell wanted a French teacher for their son Jimmy. She recommended me and I was offered the job. It was a dream come true because I only worked two days a week, an hour each day. I was paid N10,000 a month which was a hefty pay cheque back then. Once again, it felt like I was in heaven, able to do a little shopping for my angels. I could buy our toiletries and their food without stress. I could also fuel my car. At home, I concentrated my effort on taking care of my mother-in-law. She had been away to the UK for a few months and had recently returned. One morning, I went into her toom and saw a heap of laundry on the floor. Without being asked, I collected it and took it to the taps outside for washing. I had made up my mind that no matter how hard things might be for me, I would take care of my mother-in-law as best as I could. Whenever I entered her apartment, I would clean her kitchen, wash the dishes, sweep her bedroom and make her bed. She wasn’t too impressed with my cooking skills, so I got let off in that area. I obviously didn’t complain. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1714932308784-81V459DVTYKI5XT3COKO/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Meet the In-Laws - Make it stand out Life was certainly not easy, but we plodded on, doing what had to be done. My husband was counting down the months and would soon be graduating from school. I couldn’t wait for him to start working again! We discussed and decided that I should go to Abuja and meet with the PDP Chairman, Mr Gemade who used to work for my dad and Mr Rilwanu Lukman, the Nigerian Petroleum Minister who had been my dad’s friend. I was feeling very important doing a bit of name dropping and we felt sure one of them would be able to help me get a job. PDP was the party in power and all I needed was a note to the Delta State Governor. Getting to Abuja was going to be a problem as I didn’t even have the fare to make the trip. One of the brothers in Church, Ebere Orji, was happy to support our effort. He gave me N2000 which would have covered my trip, to and fro and left some change. I was so excited to be going to Abuja without the children for a few days. As I was reading the bible that week, a verse jumped out at me which I had never seen before, it said something like “that which is highly esteemed with man is an abomination with God.” Immediately I had that sinking feeling in my stomach that it was speaking directly to me. It felt like God was not happy with my decision to seek help from man rather than from him. I pretended not to understand and hurriedly prayed for God’s blessings on my trip. Before undertaking the trip, I needed to wean my daughter. I tried doing it on my own but it was impossible. She would keep me awake all night screaming in hunger but refusing to eat anything else. All she wanted was to suckle. In the end, I had to drop her off with Yinka for two nights for us to be able to wean her off. Poor Yinka, I will forever be thankful to her for her love and support during my “school days”. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1714932015103-AX0A3NSPEFJCQAHDVKH0/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Meet the In-Laws - Make it stand out God was so merciful and indeed started sending help to deal with my enemies. I remember visiting a friend of mine called Ufuoma. I told her I had so much laundry that I didn’t know where to begin. I had already soaked them but just didn’t have the energy to face the laundry on a weekday. She offered to do the laundry and asked me to bring all the buckets. I got home and pushed some more clothes into the bucket and took them to her. True to her word, she washed everything, dried them and folded them neatly. Those acts of kindness were priceless, from people that were willing to share from the little they had. I also remember another angel called Peju in Church. One day, I openly confessed that I was struggling with my laundry and she collected it and put everything in her washing machine. She also took us to her house for the weekend. It felt like being in heaven. Her house was beautiful and tastefully furnished. It was in an estate where my husband and I had wanted to live in but things didn’t quite work out (God had other plans). Her husband was away for the weekend, and we became the ladies of the manor. We sat up late into the night chatting and snacking. It was an unexpected gift from the Lord as far as I was concerned. I missed having my own home. I missed being able to move from room to room. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1714930775341-H620DOUKPCGP1CQC66J3/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Meet the In-Laws - Make it stand out My biggest problem was that I was shy and felt like a fish out of water. People from the Niger-Delta are naturally exuberant and expressive, but I was at the other end of the spectrum. I was quite reserved and you had to pull everything out of me. Was I stupid? No! I always had my opinions but would never express them, preferring to listen and muse over things. My husband once complained that I was like an onion, having to be peeled layer by layer. I could sense his frustrations. I had my two nieces staying with me at the time. They were in the main house with the family and could help with the house chores. There was daily cooking, cleaning and shopping to be done. I was very preoccupied with taking care of the three children, aged 4+, 3 and 7 months old. I desperately wanted to behave like the ideal “African wife”, being hands-on in the kitchen and running of the family house. Unfortunately, I just didn’t have the energy levels to keep up. By the end of the day, I would be completely knackered and useless. An ideal day ran like this; I would wake up at about 5.30am, walk to the main house and knock on the window to the girl’s room. The aim was to wake one of my sisters in law to open the front door for me; it was one of the hardest things I had to do. First of all, no one wants to be woken up everyday by 5.30am to open the door. I felt their pain but what were my options? I needed hot water to bath the three children to begin the day. I would gently tap on the window, not wanting to make too much noise but yet, needing to wake them up. This would take a few minutes and eventually I would hear someone waking up and grumbling, “oh Hennang, you too disturb person” (meaning: Hennang, you are really tiresome). I would feel terrible for them as I put myself in their shoes. To be honest, I’d rather be in bed too sleeping and having my nieces get the children ready for school. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1714931815292-E1Y7BXOCTLE8HKG9JIBG/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Meet the In-Laws - Make it stand out One afternoon, I picked up the children from school and as usual, my tank was reading empty with the warning lights on. Unfortunately, the car stalled and stopped. What I had feared most had befallen me. I parked the car by the side of the road and wondered what to do. Gingerly, I opened the door and got out of the car to stand outside. I didn’t have any money to take a taxi or bus home. I also didn’t have any money to buy some fuel. All I could do was pray and ask God to send me help. We didn’t have long to wait as Bros Pee (Patrick), my husband’s friend came passing by. He quickly stopped, took a look at us and understood what the problem was. He asked for the car keys and asked us to transfer into his car. He gave his driver my car keys and took us home himself. My car was later delivered to me with a full tank that evening. God always sent an angel to rescue to me. A few times, I’d pick up the children from school in the afternoon only to arrive home and find the gates padlocked. The first time it happened, my heart sank and I was so angry with everyone. What do they want me to do with three hungry and sweaty children? There were no cell phones to find out where the nearest family member was, so as to collect the key. After sitting outside the big black gate for a while, I’d decide to drive to Moji’s. As soon as she’d see us, she’d give instructions to her house help Alaba, “put yam on fire” (meaning; please boil some yams). Her home was always a refuge and she never asked questions. Once when I didn’t meet Moji at home, I had to go to Tetsomas’ house. She was equally as gracious and offered us lunch. The toughest days would be when I would have to still go to Church with the children. So many times, I’d be sobbing on the steering wheel and crying to God to deliver me. The children would be asleep in the car and I would be sobbing in desperation not knowing where to turn to. I never told my husband how I felt as I wanted to spare him the worry and the pain. One day, I made a deal with God, I said, the Bible says “when a man’s ways please the Lord, He makes even his enemies to be at peace with him.” I told God, my ways will be perfect before you and you will have to make all my enemies to be at peace with me (my greatest enemy was poverty). Other enemies included laundry, ironing, toiletries, joblessness, husband away in school etc. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1714931349326-FBNAHN458RUN2XY3ELW8/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Meet the In-Laws - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1714931511873-0AFZ1UL6H1E0B2DTV7YB/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Meet the In-Laws - Make it stand out Most days, I would drop off the children in school and would have to hang around the estate until they closed. I couldn’t afford “wasting” fuel by going home only to return by 12.30pm. My preferred hangout would be Yinka’s house which was walking distance from the school. I would park the car and spend the morning there with my baby. Yinka would leave and go to work, trusting me in her house. God really kept some angels along the way for me. That favour was priceless, literally. I would get home, sometimes I’d have to clear the table first and then serve lunch to the children. One pressure that had been taken off me was the provision of daily meals. We were part of the family and so all ate together. It was not easy running the kitchen and I doffed my hat to my sisters. One day, I got put on the rota to run the kitchen for a month or week (I cant remember). I smiled courageously when I was told. I couldn’t wrap my head around how I would be able to run the kitchen for that long. This included going to the market and doing all the preparation before cooking. I can’t remember if I also had to wash up after myself, I think I did. It was the longest one week/month but I made it. The only complaint I had was that my portions were too small but food was great. Church was also another added pressure. As Church Workers (volunteers), it was compulsory to be at every service. We were not allowed to be late nor absent. Church days were every Sunday morning (8am – 2pm), Tuesdays (5-9pm), Wednesday house fellowships, Thursday Bible Study (5-9pm), Friday night vigils once a month, and Monday miracle service (Scent of Water) once a month. Between these few programmes, I was kept pretty busy and knackered with three babies. I had to take my children to all these meetings, and they were not aways happy campers. They sometimes got tired and wanted to sleep - no such luxury. It must have been hard on the children too; I never saw it as I was running on auto pilot. Sometimes homework had to be done in Church. I think I had more zeal than sense then. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1714932538612-VDTP9WPE0TN4FA5MTXIT/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Meet the In-Laws - Make it stand out It was hard leaving my little girl the next day to travel to Abuja. My Kev dropped me off at the Greener Line Taxi Park and we took off. I had planned to stay with my childhood friend, Aisha Abdullahi. It had been years since I last saw her and can’t remember how we were able to make all the plans as there were no phones. Thankfully, I arrived Abuja in one piece. It was Saturday the 26th of August 2000 and just my luck, it coincided with the visit of the American president to Nigeria, Bill Clinton. Everything was grounded in Abuja and I couldn’t see Mr Lukman nor Mr Gemade. Eventually, Mr Gemade was able to see me but was not excited about sending me to the governor of Delta State who had disappointed him a few times. I spent two weeks in total in Abuja trying to get help from my big shots. The journey was a total waste of time and money. I should have understood what the Lord was trying to tell me and saved myself all the stress. Nothing came out of it and I sadly but excitedly went back to Warri to be reunited with four of the most important people in my life. As we travelled back, we had two very near misses and were lucky to have survived. My life in a furnace continued and I repeatedly questioned myself. I felt there must have been something I was doing wrong to keep me in perpetual hardship. I would imagine some sins I was guilty of and ask God to forgive me and have mercy on me. A lot of times I felt it was because I wasn’t praying enough or reading my Bible enough. Realistically, there was no way I would have been able to do all those things as it was a struggle just getting through the day with three little toddlers. I remember when my friend Ngozi Kazie visited and I was feeling quite ashamed at how my house was looking, I started explaining (without being asked) that I had been disobedient to God and that was why life was so difficult. In my estimation, God was trying to teach me a lesson. It took time for me to understand what was going on with my life. God was not trying to punish me for “my sins”, He was only making me into what He wanted me to be. He needed me to know Him in different dimensions, especially in my times of desperation. There were still so many lessons to be learnt. In the meantime, it was great to be back home with my Kev and my babies. TO BE CONTINUED: Thank you everyone for following my story. Please leave a comment and share anything similar you have been through too. Watch out for the next part N E X T W E E K :) https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/love-on-paper-4 monthly 0.5 2024-02-16 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1701520877809-1B9C209V0HFZHC81FNW1/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love on Paper 4 - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1701521382137-KGVQPZ59CVRC88VQLS13/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love on Paper 4 - Make it stand out Our diet couldn’t be called sumptuous. I had to be very sensible and basic in planning our meals. My rule with the children was whatever mommy gives you to eat, you say thank you and eat it. There were days when it was just boiled rice, onions and oil. Some days it was garri and some old honey I found, as I couldn’t afford sugar. I remember one day my first son begging me desperately, “mummy please I want some sugar, I don’t want the garri thing (black looking honey), please mummy.” As a mother, it was heart wrenching to hear him cry so desperately because he wanted sugar. There was nothing humanly possible I could do, and I didn’t want to disturb my neighbour Moji for some sugar. I needed to save her for something more urgent. “Whatever mummy gives you to eat, you say thank you and eat it” was my response. Our daily life was very predictable and we were content with what we had. Not long after that episode he asked me, “Mummy are we poor?” I burst out laughing so hard that he became confused. It suddenly occurred to me that the children might be aware of what we were going through. They were in a “posh” school by the grace of God and might be seeing a difference when compared to their classmates. “Noooo, we are not poor” I reassured him. It was another painful moment for me. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1701521662428-MXBC4PPQUEMLI28EHX4Y/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love on Paper 4 - Make it stand out I remember an instance when Josiah was about four years old and his daddy was away in school. That day he was listless and withdrawn, with his temperature rising. I knew instinctively that he had malaria fever. I didn’t have any medication in the house and I didn’t have any money either to take him to the hospital. I laid him on the bed and watched him sleep the whole day. He wouldn’t eat as he had no appetite. The night was especially difficult as his temperature had gone through the roof. All I could do was cry to God to save my son. By the third day, I watched him fearfully on the living room floor convulsing because of his extremely high temperature. I didn’t have any money and I couldn’t disturb anybody with my troubles. I kept calling on God with tears in my eyes to save my son. There was a knock on the door and Sarah answered it. It was my husband’s handy man passing by and had stopped to say hello. As he was leaving, he gave me N200 to buy some bread for the boys. It was Gods provision for the hospital care we desperately needed. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1701520955464-SHQ6L073K20TA1CB7XAW/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love on Paper 4 - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1701520642611-L2BYC5CM4QD80UF1W2CL/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love on Paper 4 - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1701522004445-EZET5EHPF2RR6J1H7YH9/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love on Paper 4 - Make it stand out That week, my husband had to leave for school in Ibadan which was a few hundred miles away. He was very concerned about leaving us behind in the house. By the next week, when it seemed that there would be another riot, I ran to mummy and told her I wanted to leave the house. We were able to arrange a van to move our things out of the house. I had to share them around our various friends for safe keeping. It was also finally decided that my nieces (Sarah and Elizabeth) would return to Jos so as to make the load lighter. Another phase of my life was about to begin, living with my in laws. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1701521122547-DH5ITC1A5N6A8XNKA8DS/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love on Paper 4 - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1701521831902-NK8OH5EZ55UWO1PP7U8K/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love on Paper 4 - Make it stand out There were frequent riots and local tribal wars in Warri between the three major tribes, Urhobo, Itsekiri and Ijaw. To a non-native like me, the three tribes were very similar. They dressed alike, had similar foods, inter married and lived side by side. Their wars were usually very serious, bloody and with high casualties. We were Urhobo living in an Itsekiri neighbourhood, with an Itsekiri Landlord. One night, one of the tenants in our block of apartments, an Ijaw man warned us of an impending riot being planned for the following week. He warned us all to leave the area as soon as we could, preferably before Thursday. My husband refused, saying no one was going to intimidate him with fear into leaving his home. I was shaking like a leaf and trying to get him to change his mind, all to no avail. The next morning, we saw people with mattresses on their heads fleeing down the side road. My husband calmly got our boys into the car and dropped them off in school. I remained home and could see the chaos already happening. People were running helter skelter with their life possessions bundled up on their heads. After a nervous few hours, we went to pick them up from school. As we were returning, there were some menacing looking men standing by the road and stopping all cars as they came along. We got stopped by this giant of a man wielding a pistol. He stood beside the driver’s door and barked at my husband “who you be?”. My heart was in my mouth as I watched the scene unfolding around me with my husband’s calm response. He tried to play it smart by saying, “we just picked up the children from school and are on the way home.” “I say who you be?”, he responded a notch higher, with a notable sense of impatience and irritation. “Ghenekev Akpos” my husband replied. It was literally a life-or-death moment. If he was an Itsekiri man, we were as good as dead (and vice versa). He brought down the pistol and waved “Pass.” We “passed on”, but not to our house. We needed a safer place and so went to the Jonah’s. They were close friends and lived in a neutral part of town, we knew it would be safer there for some time. Later in the evening, we were able to make it to the family house which was equally in an Urhobo part of town. We remained there until we felt some calm in the city. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1701521468855-CGJ43QG29MT0VN0L3PXX/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love on Paper 4 - Make it stand out Being pregnant with the third child, it didn’t take long before I started craving certain foods. One day as I was lying down, I started speaking to God in a very casual way. “Father, I’d love to have some pizza and some apples. I would also love to have some pounded yam and fish pepper soup. I’m sure you don’t like these types of prayers but that’s what I really want to have today. Thank you.” If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. There was no chance of my riding that day as I spotted my husband’s friend Biodun at the door. They were school mates and had later become work mates on one of the oil job projects in Port Harcourt. He had eventually resigned and gone into full time ministry reaching the Ijaw people on the riverine coast. He asked for Kev and I informed him he was in school in Ibadan. While leaving, he gave me a bundle of N2000 as a gift. I recoiled as if I was being offered poison. I said, “no I can’t accept money from you. What will I tell my husband.” This was because we had been financially supporting his work and I knew that he was not on a salary. I knew the money he was giving me was probably a gift he had received from someone. It felt so unjust to take it off him. I took some steps away from him, apologisng that I couldn’t take the gift. He tried so hard to convince me but I wasn’t budging. Finally, he said, “it’s for the children, can’t I give a gift to the children? Please dont tell your husband.” In that same instance, I heard the Lord say, “go and have your pounded yam.” To this day, it brings tears to my eyes when I remember the faithfulness of God in the times of His crushing. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/0sfu7vb46fxhz881ziexfhcvaeggma monthly 0.5 2024-03-07 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1700843800149-O326DC0OYNW8NJX3RYZQ/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love On Paper 3 - Make it stand out Thank you for stopping by again. Please leave a comment and share, share, share. Watch out for part 4 by the weekend. :) https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1700841206458-YQSNRC0OL3JLENKIU1WG/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love On Paper 3 - Make it stand out We got ready and went to Church for the 11am start only to find out that the first wedding was still going on. My car was directed to be parked in a hidden corner so that the waiting bride wouldn’t be too much in display. We were parked there for quite some time as it seemed the first wedding was taking forever. After what seemed like eternity, we got the green light to proceed. What I didn’t know was that my husband had not showed up in Church at the appointed time. The first wedding had since ended but Kev was nowhere to be found. The Pastors were in a panic and wondering if he had changed his mind. They called him into the office and asked if there was a problem and if he still wanted to go ahead with the wedding. He reassured them with as much seriousness as he could muster. I was blissfully unaware of all the drama until the following week. He explained to me that they had come in by 10am only to find the first wedding still going on. They had then gone to find a place to “chill out” until when they assumed the first wedding would be done. The wedding ceremony went very well. As soon as we were pronounced man and wife, Kev burst out singing a local Nigerian song at the top of his voice, “winner o o o, winner, winner o o o, winner, Jesus you don win o, winner. Na so you go win forever, winner”. I wanted the ground to open so I could sink into it. What was that for!! The Church was equally stunned in amazement! COCIN was a very conservative Church where the majority of people were soft spoken and non-confrontational. It is a character trait of most people from Plateau State. This type of emotional outburst had never ever happened in the history of COCIN, not before nor ever since. His family from Warri also started hugging and congratulating each other. We, the local Jos people just stared in amazement. We were not the “huggy, huggy, kissy, kissy” types. It was a sight to behold, a clash of cultures. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1700841662814-QCRA5W7REQAYPB32BJPL/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love On Paper 3 - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1700842341019-2Y5PE8N2M2BX247J2HSJ/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love On Paper 3 - Make it stand out That first month, we needed to be careful as we both did not have jobs. By January, I got a job with the JFK Secondary School. It was not too far from home which meant I could save on transportation by walking. The Job was interesting as I loved working with children. Meals were becoming a huge challenge as I became very picky about the things I could eat. It was a double whammy, I couldn’t leave my stomach empty for long without getting nauseous and yet, there wasn’t much I could eat. Ribena was a luxury we could hardly afford. We were counting our pennies and smiling. Not many people knew my husband wasn’t working and he wanted it to remain that way. It was the longest one month of my life and pay day couldn’t come fast enough. I remember it like yesterday, I was paid N2000 in a brown envelope. I grabbed my envelope and started my 20minute walk home. As I got closer to the final junction, I spotted Kintys, one of my favourite supermarkets for window shopping. I still had ample time, I could pop in and get a few supplies before getting home. I wasn’t even sure what I wanted but decided I would recognise them when I saw them. Yes, anchor butter, sure deodorant, Ribena, toilet paper (highest quality). I happily bagged my shopping and went home to Kev. I was sure he would want a few things too. To say I was aghast by his reaction is to downplay it. Kev could not believe what he was seeing; Sure deodorant! Anchor butter!!. He gently explained to me that my brown envelope was the only money we had. As much as he loved me, we could not afford my choice of items, and could I please not start shopping until I got home and we had a plan. I just said yes. My pregnancy progressed uneventfully. I read about it as much as I could and attended the ante natal classes once a month. I remember watching Ron Kenollys musical video one evening where he spoke about his mum praying for him to be a worshipper while pregnant. It made a huge impact on me that I chose to do the same. I rubbed my stomach and said to the Lord, let this one paint your praise. I also knew it was going to be male child. By the sixth month, I was as large as a house. I didn’t have maternity outfits and couldn’t afford to make any. Kev’s big sis gave me one large beautiful dress which I wore almost everyday. My husband was supportive and loving, making it his priority to run the air conditioner just before I got home. He wanted the house nice and cool for me. All this while, he was beating himself up because he felt he wasn’t able to provide for his family. He even told me that the Bible said that anyone who did not provide for his family was worse than an infidel. As a woman, I was shocked that he felt that way. I reasoned with him and asked him a few questions, “are you actively looking for work?” He answered yes. “Are you praying about it?” another yes. “Do you believe that God has heard and will answer you?” He said yes. I told him he was doing the right things and must trust God to answer in his own time. Short of robbing a bank, there was nothing else to do. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1700843556891-BIOD9895HCNVWFP48QKK/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love On Paper 3 - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/e1x9jitab38acds3ukmxpwglwrb81h monthly 0.5 2023-11-17 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1700155912938-TJUNL1WWHCWYO24X3ZTU/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love On Paper 2 - Make it stand out House hunting was most frustrating. Kev informed me in his next letter that if it meant taking out all his money to secure a house in Jos, so be it. He would do that on his next trip. By this time, his dad and mum had visited my family and paid the bride price and a date had been set for November the 27th 1993. On his next trip, true to his word, Kev wanted to withdraw a fortune for the house but all the banks in Nigeria went on strike. It was a very frustrating period for both of us. In that season, I decided to take a personal retreat and spend some quiet time with God. During the retreat, God told me the wedding would be taking place in Jos instead of Warri as planned. I would also be moving to Warri to live with my husband afterwards. He also told me He would be passing me through fire. I understood the first message but wasn’t sure what He meant by saying He would be “passing me through fire”. He told me to read Malachi 2:2. It was a surprising message, but I knew it was from God. I decided to write it in French in my journal so as not to lose it. I got a surprise when Kev came on his next visit. He told me there had been a change of plans and he felt we should have the wedding in Jos rather than Warri. My mother had also had a sudden change of heart and wanted the wedding in Jos. So, Jos it was. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1700155274152-WI2F16EMDZJ3IKJV0A9H/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love On Paper 2 - Make it stand out As I walked the final few steps to the house, I became very conscious of the scar on the edge of my lip. I had always felt that it tugged it to the side and disfigured me although Kev didn’t agree. I had been involved in a road traffic accident three years earlier where I had sustained some major injuries. Would his family like me? I was so nervous but took comfort in praying silently. I met an old lady sitting by the gate who turned out to be his grandmother. I asked for Kev and she pointed to the house. During that first visit, I was received warmly, especially by his mum. It was a rainy day and we had gone to the mechanics to fix the car. We stopped at an impressive supermarket and he encouraged me pick whatever I wanted. I wasn’t used to men spending money on me, so I declined. In the end, I had to take something, a reasonably priced nice smelling body cream. Kev made sure he popped the question again and I said yes. I also got to meet his brothers and sisters who turned to be a lot like him. They were all Type A personalities, strong and opinionated. There was a lot of banter between them, going back and forth. Everyone was quick on the draw, with a response to anything that was thrown at them. They didn’t need to think, they could give fire for fire in quick succession. It was such a stark contrast to my quiet family and lifestyle in Jos. I remember on the second night; Kev asking me how I was and how I was finding the visit. I didn’t know how to answer, and just burst into tears sobbing and heaving. He was panic stricken and stunned. “What’s wrong Hennang? Who upset you?” I was crying so hard I could barely get the words out. It’s comical looking back now. “Your, your, your… family is sooo noisy.” I barely managed to get it out, choking on my sobs. That certainly wasn’t what he was expecting but he had a good response for me. “Don’t worry about them, it’s me you’re getting married to.” I explained to him about being overwhelmed by the whole visit, feeling under pressure to talk more. I also couldn’t speak the pidgin English which was the local vernacular in the home. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1700155663406-UYY126WTNGVR0THIVQZC/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love On Paper 2 - Make it stand out Back then, he had a fantastic job with an American Oil Company in Port Harcourt and his salary blew my mind. A lot of it went to support Missions work. He was very open, showing me his pay slip every month and saying we needed to plan for our new home. He was also very organised and meticulous, especially with his money. He planned and had lists which he ticked off. He kept records and never destroyed anything. As for me, I couldn’t spell those words. I was at the other end of the spectrum. I didn’t know how to plan and budget my money. I think we used to be paid in cash and I would have my whole salary in my handbag, spending as I went along. The only planning I did was to pay my tithe which I did faithfully. When the money in my bag finished, that was it; God would have to provide the rest. I loved my life of carrying my salary in my handbag and Kev was trying to ruin it for me. He was always planning and wanting us to agree on everything before spending. Years later, we tried having a joint bank account, it was a disaster. I still haven’t gotten over the trauma yet. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1700155549180-MA5IXBKK9HDVYC4AABYW/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love On Paper 2 - Make it stand out Kev was faithful in his letter writing, using Speed Post as an alternative to the National Post Office. He would always include a little money to cover my reply postage. He had such a caring heart and I thought myself fortunate to have been chosen by him. As we began to learn more about each other, there was trouble in paradise. We were polar opposite in almost everything. He loved being with people, I loved being alone. He was very expressive, I held everything in. He said what was on his mind, I “thought” what was on my mind. He had to drag everything out of me with questions and interrogations. I could sense that he was getting frustrated. I would always just agree with him on everything even when deep inside, I wasn’t totally convinced. I felt he was too intense and I didn’t have the energy to engage him in an “argument”. The funny thing was that he would think we were having a normal discussion, but I would feel it was an argument. Our personality differences were a huge pressure during our courtship and during the early years of marriage. He had a way of asking questions which made me feel like I was standing before a judge. In his normal Warri style, his line of questioning would be open ended and would not really sound like a question. For example, instead of asking “did you buy the dress?”, he would say “you bought the dress”. I would translate it to mean I was being accused of buying the dress. “You were not meant to buy the dress and you bought it. Why did you buy it? Did we agree on it.” Those were the things I was hearing. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1700155434678-0147LLECFLK6HZQ145T8/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love On Paper 2 - Make it stand out After that weekend, I was now officially engaged to Kev and I needed to inform my mum. I wasn’t sure how she would take it as I was her only daughter. She had never hidden the fact that she didn’t want me getting married too far away. She wanted me to be a rallying point for my brothers, a mother to them after she was gone. When I got home, I told her about my trip to Warri and that I was in a relationship with Kev. As was her style, she didn’t say a word, staring into space as if I had said nothing. The next day she asked me why I wasn’t considering marrying from my state, Plateau State. If not Plateau, what about Kaduna, Taraba or Adamawa. She was not happy with my choice of Bendel State. It was too far, and their customs were not our customs. She said I should rethink my decision. I tried to explain to her that God had told me he was my husband which I think made it even worse. It sounded ludicrous to her, that little Hennang was hearing from God Almighty. After about one week, she started coming round and informing the extended family that Hennang was in a serious relationship. Kev’s family had also asked permission to come for the first official visit. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1700155786912-6PLXGTZ5KLOG55RGUWFU/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love On Paper 2 - Make it stand out My boss’s wife was the one that taught me how to plan my money. Sister Affy was a very sweet lady and as the months went by, I got close to her. I can’t remember how we got round talking about it but she took a piece of paper and made a budget for me. My salary was N750 and she asked me what I’d usually use it for. She broke it down to 10% tithe, Sunday offering, transport fare, office lunch and contribution to the house. She wisely added “savings” to the list. I was so impressed by her and wondered where she got that kind of superior intelligence. Kev and I were very much in love and lived for the moments we spent together. His work schedule meant he was away on the rig for four weeks at a stretch and on leave for twelve days. As soon as he was off, he’d pack up and go to Ayingba to visit Brother Tokunbo Salami of Pleroma Missions. Brother Toks and his wife have since become very close to us. Out of curiousity I once asked him how he had ended up in Anyinbga seeing he was a British citizen. He responded by saying that after his NYSC in Benue State, the Lord had asked him to go and sit in a Church to await further instructions in the village of Ayingba. It’s been over forty years and he has never left. He shared some amazing stories of Gods faithfulness in the work he had been called to do. There was never a salary at the end of the month but they never lacked. After visiting Anyigba, Kev would travel down to Jos to spend a week with me. In the beginning, I would leave my room for him and share my mum’s room with her. One day, she felt it wasn’t proper to have “my boyfriend” staying in the house with us and so, he had to make other arrangements. In April 1993, his family came to see my family to declare their intention. We had a mini feast and plans were made. They were given a list of things to buy, and the wedding venue was agreed for Warri. We would marry in Warri but live in Jos. Kev and I began our house hunting in earnest which turned out to be a feat. He showed me a beautiful, new house which he liked, I didn’t like it. I felt it was too small although I didn’t tell him that. I showed him an older but spacious one, but he didn’t like it. He felt it was too old and too close to my family home. We argued about it and he couldn’t understand why I didn’t like the new house he had shown me. He ended up returning to the rig without us getting a house. As the weeks went by, we were getting desperate because we still hadn’t found a house. I remember he came to see me one afternoon and we went to buy some items from Ahmadu Bello Way Jos. We got into a heated argument all the way back to the office. We were so engrossed that we didn’t see my bosses in the car park and Kev turned around and walked off. I looked up and was shocked to see three people looking at us in front of the office. My boss, brother Gideon Mallam later called me and asked why kev hadn’t stopped to say hello. I explained that we had been arguing and we didn’t see any of them. He couldn’t suppress his smile. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/love-on-paper monthly 0.5 2023-11-16 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/7cf95c9a-16d6-415b-898d-9562bf545be7/mins+wedding.jpg Blog - Love On Paper - Make it stand out Mininim’s wedding The next week, I received another love letter inviting me to Warri to meet his family and to “talk.” I knew my mum would never hear of me visiting a guy in another city “just like that”. Luckily for me, our friend Mininim was soon getting married in Makurdi and I was scheduled to attend. I used the opportunity to travel to Warri for the first time in my life. I didn’t know what to expect but it was too late to change my mind. The taxi was already pulling up into the station. TO BE CONTINUED Thank you for reading my blog and watch out for the sequel. You can scroll to the bottom for older stories. Please share, share, share :) https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/3fd310f3-bba5-44c0-9b4e-d5a7c81b4483/electric+typewriter.jpg Blog - Love On Paper - Make it stand out On my electric typewriter https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/795c5fe7-ae52-4aee-8a49-59c0219200f2/me+chux+rita.jpg Blog - Love On Paper - Make it stand out Me, Chuks and Rita at Mininims wedding in Makurdi https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/ffe5bfcd-5b61-462a-8c14-827408d6d318/kev+and+i.jpg Blog - Love On Paper - Make it stand out Kev and I on my last day of NYSC https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/13ec6369-dcb8-4e4e-b5dd-80f616b993e8/bnccf+bus.jpg Blog - Love On Paper - Make it stand out The fellowship bus https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1699717018175-WD9FCQGCCXTHPJD5HPT6/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love On Paper - Make it stand out When I got home, I was a bundle of mixed emotions; excitement, fear, confusion, love, nostalgia, everything. I knew I needed to pray to get some clarity from God. Once again, because God loved me so much, He reminded me that Kev was my husband and not Mickey. I got out a pen and paper and wrote Kev a short letter of confession, letting him know that I had read two pages of his diary. I didn’t tell him what I had seen though. It would take about two weeks for him to receive my letter via the Nigerian Postal Service. Three days later, I received a letter via Speed Post (our Nigerian version of DHL). It was a love letter from Kev, pages and pages long!!! I was shell shocked because I had never seen that side of him. It was also rather poetic, and I wondered if he had copied it from somewhere. He told me how much he loved me and wanted to get married as soon as possible. I read his letter so many times over, trying to grasp the enormity of his words. He had enclosed some money for me to respond via Speed Post as the usual mail would normally take about two weeks for delivery. He needed my response as soon as possible and didn’t want the additional delays with the Post Office. I waited a few days to respond and told him I couldn’t accept his “marriage proposal” as it was by correspondence. He would need to do it again verbally if he wanted a response. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/9ae3f056-b825-406e-98d9-34c87d1d364d/corpers+.jpg Blog - Love On Paper - Make it stand out my room mates and I during the NYSC camp. I am in the middle https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/15749adc-c58f-4ded-a63a-cab4568dbbbc/TOMM+AND+LAWW.jpg Blog - Love On Paper - Make it stand out Thomas and Lawrence, NIFES Staff in Jos https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1699716702724-C1GAA5KQCT94MJHM6M7E/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love On Paper - Make it stand out On getting home, I got an unexpected visitor the next day. It was Kev from Warri who had showed up to surprise me on my birthday. My mum asked me who that was, and I introduced him as my friend from the service year. He soon won her over with his friendly chatter and hearty laughter. The next day, he took me birthday shopping and for lunch. I told him all about my new job and the exciting conference that had just concluded. It was a fun filled day as we later walked to the Wildlife Park and back to the house. We said our goodbyes in the evening as he left to spend the last night at a friend’s house. I got home and flopped on my bed, exhausted after a long day out. There certainly was no dull moment with him. As I opened my handbag, I found he had forgotten his diary which he had dropped into my handbag. Oh no, I groaned inwardly, it meant I had to go out again that night. Overcome by curiosity, I decided to open it. The first page didn’t say anything special and so I turned to another page. It said, “God is leading me back to HM (my initials, Hennang Matta). I will go and see her in Jos.” I slammed the diary shut and jumped up with my heart racing. My mouth went dry, suddenly feeling short of breath. I sat down again, transfixed for a few moments not believing what I had just read. I needed to return his diary to him as soon as possible, it wasn’t even funny. I calmed myself down and got into my mums’ car. The drive back to their house took about five minutes. “You forgot your diary,” I mumbled, handing it to him. “You read am?” (pidgin English for “did you read it?”) he asked with a wry smile. “Noooo,” I responded with a straight face. “You sure say you no read am? He probed further. “noooo,” I responded, still keeping my straight face. He took his diary, and we said our goodbyes for the second time. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/love-online-2 monthly 0.5 2023-09-17 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1692910462873-JF04YGTZ7GOP4BR7RCM2/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online 2 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1692910548097-DJDU2ZAPZ5AZLAT09FC6/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online 2 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1692910569884-OTOEMV4SZ3MAQOZBX7EQ/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online 2 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1692910661606-GJ87HN5NTW30ETHEQZ63/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online 2 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1692909606849-POQNQRRTFTLQWN3X4Q16/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online 2 - Make it stand out After this experience, Lily was definitely ready to throw in the towel. She had to talk herself into remaining “online” for the whole month. On her last week, she got a swipe from someone called Ian. He was a tall good looking European who lived in Amsterdam. His profile read like a dream and he was a Christian too. Chatting on the phone was effortless and they could go on for hours. He was very direct and upfront, always calling a spade, a spade. They got on so well that Ian became unsure about this exotic African beauty. He wondered if he was being catfished as he was already smitten. It made him request for a video chat. This went so amazingly well that Ian immediately wanted to meet Lily physically. He told her, the first thing he’d do would be to hug her and give her a kiss. Lily recoiled in horror. She was not used to that open display of affection, and she told him so. She explained to him that in her culture, it would be considered inappropriate to do that. He didn’t seem to understand or to take it seriously. The big day came. They had planned to meet in a neutral town, halfway between them. They lived about five hours apart. The trip was very exciting as Lily had never travelled to that part of Europe. She took in all the sights, sounds and smells. Finally, she arrived at the destination. As she got off the train, there was Ian waiting for her, with a big smile and a picnic basket in hand. He gave her a big hug and tried to kiss her lips. She turned her face so violently that they bumped heads painfully. “Please can you not do that. You hardly know me, and you want to kiss me!” Ian was taken aback by her reaction and apologised sheepishly. “I’m sorry Lily. I’m just so happy to see you. Come with me, there’s a beautiful pond not too far from here.” Ian had taken the pains to arrive early so as to search out an interesting place to take her to. He had also packed a blanket to sit on. That certainly earned him some brownie points. Having read her profile, he remembered that she liked being by the water. His thoughtfulness endeared him to Lily and she couldn’t help but compare him to Tommy. As they walked down the path, Ian tried to hold her hands again. “Please can you stop touching me,” Lily said in exasperation. She couldn’t understand why he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He suddenly went very quiet and withdrawn keeping a good distance between them. It was an uncomfortable few minutes but he soon pulled himself together and started talking as usual. He took Lily to a pizza shop and they eventually sat by the lake on his blanket and enjoyed their picnic. It’s been one year now since they met. He has taken her to meet his family and he has also met her family. All I can say is, Watch this Space Thank you for taking the time to read my blog. Please leave a comment and leave the name of your city!! I’d love to connect with you. I am writing from Milton Keynes in the UK. Yes, you can share, share, share. Ciaou https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1692910789985-XLUEVC9T1E4YM0BEPQ9W/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online 2 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1692910827494-ZKETI1KSHYPZ8UR4UAVY/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online 2 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1692910868068-ATC1AU38UXH2QRWCSSVV/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online 2 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1692910919994-U8Z7F88PEB17FADUHJI1/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online 2 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1692909483871-DAHC3XCIR3MPAV489GDD/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online 2 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1692909865167-0556JA2GK341R8CGKCGS/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online 2 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1692909942615-3NBYKBVSBANVBSCS21S8/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online 2 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1692910102567-226UM2YRR3MWP19T9CNV/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online 2 https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/love-online monthly 0.5 2023-08-21 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1689607492667-LN59OB3TVNK5GKMV2DWD/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online - Make it stand out It was interesting catching up with 30-year-old Lily and hearing her harrowing online dating experience. She had recently relocated to Europe in pursuit of greener pastures and was struggling with loneliness. During the COVID 19 isolation, she felt she had nothing to lose by trying Online dating. This was especially so, because the Black male population in her city was almost non-existent. Not having a clue about it, she asked Google for help. Tinder and Bumble were the most popular ones. Lily wasn’t sure about joining the most popular ones. She had heard that most people on those sites were only interested in “hook ups”. I had to stop her here to ask what she meant by that. I thought hooking up was the same as meeting up. I couldn’t have been further from the truth. A “hook up” was almost like prostituting, but without the payment. In a bid to help, Lily’s feminist friend suggested that she chose Bumble, a dating site which offered more control and protection for ladies. The way it worked was that when an onlooker saw someone they liked, they could indicate their interest but could not chat. The account holder would need to give them permission to engage. It gave women (the account holders) all the powers on whether to start a relationship or not. Lily wasn’t sure she liked the concept because it made her feel like she was the one “toasting” the guy (toasting=openly making passes). She was a proper “old school” girl and believed in chivalry. The guy should always pay the price. Anyway, she decided to give it a try. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1689607215036-GM75PYH9H6SHBT81N8WB/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online - Make it stand out It doesn’t stop there. On June the 22nd 2023, a 13-year-old girl in Rye College Essex was called “despicable” by her teacher for not accepting her classmate’s identity of a cat. This was during a Life Education class where they were told they could be whatever they wanted to be and identify as whatever they felt like. According to the teacher, gender was not related to any body parts people were born with, but rather, with what they identified as. There have been several stories of students identifying as horses, dinosaurs, and even as the moon. Some of them had chosen to answer the teachers’ questions with animal noises rather than with words. It has become a difficult terrain to operate in. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1689607936706-SQGFT0AS82YE5VVLAXBZ/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online - Make it stand out Another popular app was Craigs List. It also turned out to be the most problematic. My heart jumped as I heard Craigs List. I remembered one horror story on CSI where a poor English girl was murdered by her Craigs List online date in Australia. I didn’t say a word to Lily but just listened in apprehension. At least, she had survived to tell me her story. A lot of weirdos had shown up wanting to meet her. They were not interested in actually knowing her but rather in a quick “hook up”. A lot of them had a sense of entitlement and wanted private dates with her in their houses. She got various invitations for home cooked dinners which she didn’t honour. She eventually just deleted that app. The next site that was recommended was Tinder. It turned out to be very similar to Craigs List. There were no restrictions, and everyone could chat with everyone. Lily wasn’t used to that type of brash behaviour and so, Tinder suffered the same fate as Craigs List, Bumble and Okay Cupid. One recurring headache Lily encountered during her online saga was the way Caucasian men treated her like an exotic accessory. There was so much emphasis on her dark skin, her beautiful silky hair and the wonderful taste of chocolate. In the end, it was too much hard work trying to find love online. She was also bombarded by requests from African men, most of which turned out to be Nigerian. They were all so eloquent and very generous with their compliments. It was usually “Hey beautiful, “I love your hair”, “Hi gorgeous”, chit chat chit chat, until they would finally ask, “so where are you from?”. Her proud response was always, “Nigeria”. Immediately she says that, the conversation would stop. It seemed none of them ever suspected she could be from Nigeria. They sort of felt she was either from Surinam (google it) or some other non-African country. Their disappointment would almost instantly turn into anger because they felt they had wasted their precious time. She was meant to be their passport to a new life. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1689607003199-CU8L3N45URTZXVESMFD7/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online - Make it stand out Back then, at least the girls were girls, and the boys were boys. There was no confusion about people’s pronouns. Everyone identified as themselves. Pronouns were simply words you learnt in your English class; I, You, he, she, it, we, you, they. Today, it’s a different kettle of fish. You have to be very careful not to offend “them” (no pun intended!). As a practicing Christian, I am full of compassion as I try to understand what might have happened to give a person this new identity. Why would they choose to deny their singularity and claim a plurality. In the HR world today, some recruitment forms would ask the applicants what their pronouns are. If they identify with “they/them”, then you would have to treat them as “they/them”. I recently watched a video clip where some new parents had chosen to call their baby, a “they-by”. Their rationale was that since the baby had not yet identified what sex they wanted, no one should force any gender on them. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1689607716667-P8AVAUFGTAAOPP467YHD/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online - Make it stand out On the day she signed up, Lily received about 150 indications (called swipes). She wasn’t brave enough to give anyone access to chat with her yet. Being the nerd that she was, she invested all her spare time methodically researching them first. She searched google, Linked In, You Tube, Facebook etc, short of asking for a police report. It turned out to be hard work, and it didn’t seem natural to her, to have 150 men seeking her attention all at once. She observed that one of the people that swiped worked in the same place as she did. He was very keen to get her to his house for sandwiches. He didn’t seem prepared to invest any time in getting to know her first. She asked him why he wasn’t afraid of having a total stranger in his house. Was he even sure she was real and not a catfish? She then suggested that they met in their local park on a Saturday afternoon. That day, she arranged with her friends to walk behind her at a distance because he just didn’t feel right. She arrived for the rendezvous and nervously waited for her first online date. As she sat scanning the park for him, she heard a ping on her phone. It was a message from lover boy saying he couldn’t make it. His cousin hadjust got a new job, and the family was having a celebration that day. Could they please reschedule to the next weekend. Where will that be? Yes, at his house. Lily graciously declined his hospitality and deleted the app. She then tried another app called Okay Cupid. This time around, she felt she was more streetwise and better equipped to face the online world. She opted to become a paid-up member which allowed her to set some boundaries. Only other paid-up members would be able to access her profile. Her logic was that anyone willing to put their money where their mouth was, would be a serious person. In her profile, she indicated that she was “female, a Christian, heterosexual, and Interested in a relationship with an African man” (big mistake). In no time at all, she realised that most of the men reaching out either couldn’t read or couldn’t be bothered to read anything on her profile. She had strategically worded her profile so it could be a ”barrier to entry.” It was meant to put off anyone who wasn’t serious. It suddenly became obvious that her strategy wasn’t working when an Italian man contacted her. He had his wife added to the account and claimed that they were a happily married couple. His wife however was not straight and missed being with women. She had seen Lilys photo and wondered if they could have a threesome since they would soon be on holiday. Lily could travel over and meet them. The only response Lily gave was “can you read? Did you see my profile?” Once again, it was time to move on. She deleted the app. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1689608216897-MTYUFLGXJHN564OK4HWV/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online - Make it stand out Lily was dumbstruck, she could not believe what she was hearing. It was the classic Jekyll and Hyde scenario. He was turning the table around and accusing her of something that was completely untrue. After ranting and raving, he immediately “unmatched her” (blocked her off) and left her still reeling in shock. It took her a few minutes to gather herself together by which time he was already long gone. She didn’t get a chance to “give it back to him” as she lamented to me. For over one week, Lily remained upset, thinking of all the things she could have said to him. I don’t think she has quite forgiven him yet. Her Online dating days were soon over. She just threw in the towel and decided that it probably was not for her. She had given it her best shot and gained nothing but insults and time wasters. A few months went by and one day, a male friend asked her if she was dating. She burst out laughing as the flood gates reopened. She shared her experience with him and told him how fed up she was of being “objectified”. She just couldn’t cope with all the drama and intrigue of being Nigerian online. Eventually, she agreed to give it one more try after about two years . Watch out for Part 2. Thanks for stopping by on my page. Please leave a comment and let me know what your thoughts are. Have you experienced any of the things mentioned??? Yes you can share, share, share … https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1689608061948-SOJRZBB45A8T5JZYED5E/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Love Online - Make it stand out One incident that stood out was an encounter with a particular man. He was such a strong pursuer and had a few impressive pictures by some luxury cars and a yacht. Although he claimed he was a Dutch national, Lily somehow felt his flamboyant behaviour was so Nigerian! He was extremely confident, chatty and also caring. One day he asked her what she was doing in that country? She took time to explain her project and how she planned on going back to benefit her country when she was done. “What country is that?” He asked. “Oh, I’m from Nigeria”, she said. “what about you, what do you do”? There was a long awkward silence and then a one line reply, “I work”. Lily was surprised at the brusqueness of his voice. “Oh wow, what do you do for work?” She asked. The next thing she got was an earful and a telling off, “What do you mean by what do I do for work? Do you think this is LinkedIn or an interview? This is a dating app. Why are you trying to interrogate me about my job? Let me tell you, I’m a hard-working Igbo man, an indigene of Abia State. Don’t think I am going to give you any money. That’s my problem with you Nigerian girls, you always demand for money”. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/a-stanger-to-my-mum monthly 0.5 2023-03-13 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1667055401046-BSA4F45NF922Y0NH8DNY/unsplash-image-8E2CT1xNEJ4.jpg Blog - A Stranger to my Mum - Make it stand out Having the first-hand experience with my mum has left me aghast. What exactly is dementia? It is a disease of the brain which is hardly reversible. It is not a normal part of ageing because not everyone gets it. One of its signs is memory impairment, as seen in their inability to recall short term events. They might not remember things they just heard but might have a strong ability to remember specific events from the past. I didn’t think much of it when my mum would repeatedly tell the same stories and ask the same questions. “How many children do you have? Are all your children married?” These were questions she asked every single time I called her. She also could never remember their names. I just brushed it aside as “old age”. It finally hit me when she visited the UK in August 2021. I got the shock of my life when she didn’t recognise me at the airport. She was alert, chirpy and knew she was going to visit her daughter Hennang in London. That was as far as her brain could fathom. It didn’t register when she landed in Heathrow and saw me. She just stared blankly with a smile on her face. It was heart breaking trying to introduce myself to my mum. I tried to make light of it by waving it off as old age. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1667056327727-DRY8KEEIPY1404AC72UE/unsplash-image-mGZX2MOPR-s.jpg Blog - A Stranger to my Mum - Make it stand out Having my mother spend time with me was an experience. It seemed her brain couldn’t retain any new information. Everyday she’d ask at least ten times, “what day is it?” I discovered that her favourite day was Saturday. That’s when they have their Zumuntan Mata (Women’s Fellowship). Whenever we saw her all dressed up with her handbag and loop earrings, we’d know she was ready for Zumunta. I would normally ask, “where are you off to”. “Zumunta, please can you tell David to give me my car keys”. In the earlier days, I’d feel so deflated because it was obvious, she still didn’t know where she was. I would then gently explain, “Mama, you are in London with Hennang. You are not in Jos”. I’d take her to the window and show her the houses across the road. She’d get a blank look on her face, frown a little and say, “I don’t understand, all I want is my car keys to go for Zumunta”. I could spend as much as ten minutes trying to help her understand where she was. I wish I’d known better, I wouldn’t have wasted so much time trying to reason with her. Eventually, I got some large placards and wrote these messages. MAMA, YOU ARE NOT IN JOS, YOU ARE IN LONDON WITH HENNANG”, this was pasted on the wardrobe to her left facing her. I put another one on the wall facing her. I also had to label all the doors so she wouldn’t get confused and go to the wrong room. We also had to change the lock to the front door so she wouldn’t let herself out unawares. We never allowed her out on her own. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1667056478228-H0B2988UW98G2W7LLKFD/unsplash-image-Y4DNR1dyEKE.jpg Blog - A Stranger to my Mum - Make it stand out My mum couldn’t recognise my daughter (Annie) anymore. She knew about my three children but couldn’t remember their names or faces. My daughter was the only one still at home and their rooms faced each other. My mum would always ask who this lady was that lived in our house. It seemed to upset her a little that someone was sponging off us. Mama was very set in her ways. She would unfailingly switch off lights, every single one had to be turned off. She would even switch off her phone charger because of the little green indicator bulb. It was frustrating for me because it meant her phone was constantly dead. Even the television had to be switched off because the cable had a little indicator light. One day she switched off all the sockets’ downstairs and we couldn’t have any Wi Fi. Although she couldn’t seem to retain any information, there were some landmark memories that she held on to. She was very proud of her nursing career and how she was able to reach the pinnacle. She had served as the Chief Nursing Officer of Plateau State. She also daily talked about her time in the Royal College of Nursing in England. Dementia couldn’t erase those memories. I can never forget the day she asked me, “Hennang, is my mum still alive? I’d like to get her a special gift from London”. My eyes actually filled with tears as I realised how much she must have cared for her mother. I gently explained to her that her mum had passed away a few years ago (32 to be precise). Another cherished memory was her eightieth birthday party. She couldn’t stop talking about it. She had enjoyed it so much that she started hinting at her next big party, the ninetieth. At 82, she was convinced she was eighty-six going on eighty-seven. Her disappointment was almost palpable when I told her she was going to be eighty-three. “Really, only eighty-three! Are you sure I’m not eighty-six?”, she would ask. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/12bb2afa-f458-45d9-9abd-421e76edeb27/HOLDING+HANDS.PNG Blog - A Stranger to my Mum - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1667056617538-GNRUWF0Q7F2RJ54OPWQ7/unsplash-image-X0EtNWqMnq8.jpg Blog - A Stranger to my Mum - Make it stand out Her birthday was a few days away and we were planning a small celebration for her. I had to explain to her that it was her birthday, and that we were going out to eat. Her face lit up because she understood it to mean she was having another grand birthday party. It was one memory she never tired of. We decided to take her for dinner at a grill. I chose a lovely leopard skin jumper and black trousers for her to wear. Our table was booked for 8pm and I got mama ready before dashing upstairs to get dressed. By the time I came back to her room fifteen minutes later, she was in her pyjamas and wrapped up under the duvet. It was beyond belief. How could she have forgotten so quickly? The dementia brain is a special work of art. It’s almost like a sieve that retains nothing. You pour into it, and it just flows through effortlessly. I let out a sigh of exasperation as I got her dressed again. That evening, we had a lot of fun as it was also her last day with us. The following day, we got ready for the airport. We had since concluded that she couldn’t travel back alone. I would have to take her home. Everything went smoothly until we were seated for take-off. She was in Premium Economy, and I was behind in Economy. One of the triggers seems to be whenever she is taken away from a familiar environment, her confusion escalates. It just wasn’t confusion; but utter panic. I could see her trying to grasp her new environment. I explained her challenges to the air hostesses and that she might need extra attention. We had hardly taken off before she clutched her handbag and walked towards me. She asked if the bus driver knew where to drop her off. I tried to pacify her every single time she came looking for me. By the time we landed, she didn’t even know who I was. Thank God Almighty, we had a safe flight and she got back home in one piece. Thank you for taking the time to read my blog. It is a story thats so personal to me. Kindly leave a comment below if you’ve had any experience with dementia. I’m still trying to grasp the reality of being a stranger to my mum. Not just me, I heard she couldnt recognise my brother too when he visited. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1667055697623-VZ0PDNIONW5OPBVBGK37/unsplash-image-wOK2f2stPDg.jpg Blog - A Stranger to my Mum - Make it stand out The one-hour drive to Milton Keynes was uneventful as she was understandably tired. We eventually got home, and I settled her into her room. She had a bath, had her dinner and by 8pm, went straight to bed. As I was going downstairs for a drink by 11.30pm, I saw the front door opening and mama stepping into the house. You could imagine my shock. “Where are you coming from?” I asked in panic. “I needed to collect my towel from the washing line outside”. She calmly replied. At that point, it began to dawn on me what we were up against. To begin with, there’s no washing line in my house and neither was her towel on it! She obviously still wasn’t aware that she had left Jos and was now in Milton Keynes. I was so grateful she didn’t wander off somewhere and get lost. Dementia is no respecter of persons. With my mum, I just decided to look at the funny side and not let it depress me. The good part is that she is naturally gentle and soft spoken and so we didn’t experience any violent behaviour. Some families are not so fortunate. I have heard of people lashing out and slapping. A friend told me about her mum who “all of a sudden started behaving very strangely”. She accused her children of trying to poison her and refused to eat home cooked food except it’s from one person. She became overly suspicious of everybody. No one could reason with her, and they couldn’t figure out what the problem was. It started immediately she left her familiar home for a new location. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/the-certain-age monthly 0.5 2023-08-17 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1664369939054-8UCNCKXAK8MELUONJEBX/unsplash-image-UAYKsfnjkW0.jpg Blog - Women of a Certain Age - Make it stand out Some symptoms of menopause include mood swings, hot flushes, cold sweats, sleeplessness, weight gain, loss of libido, vaginal dryness, loss of elasticity, brain fog, joint pains - to mention a few. My friend Jill told me about her bouts of depression which had a six-week cycle. A very meticulous lady, she couldn’t understand what has happening to her. She therefore decided to keep a journal of her experiences. She mentioned how once, she cried all the way to school as she drove, for no apparent reason. She finished her class, got into her car, and continued crying as she went to her next appointment. It was a total overwhelming of deep sadness. Other ladies have lost their jobs because of mood swings and irrational behaviour. One of my sisters in law said she simply turned into this cantankerous overbearing ogre. Her husband couldn’t get his head round her. She also shared how the weight just wouldn’t shift no matter how sensibly she ate and exercised. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1664370257153-4B6MSOH098OIRNAPM2M3/unsplash-image-GHX68AmE1gQ.jpg Blog - Women of a Certain Age - Make it stand out Other symptoms are more physical than emotional. It was a relief to watch a special programme on BBC Channel 5 that fully explained the Menopause. My joy was palpable to hear someone verbalise what I had been experiencing. Davina, the TV presenter talked about a time she was seated in a studio having her makeup done. She was suddenly overcome by a hot flush that she had to ask if they had heated seats. I wasn’t going mad after all. Some women have complained of being very smelly “down there” or passing foul urine. I’ve discovered that for every symptom, there is a solution. The HRT (hormone replacement therapy) is widely used in the UK. This could either be a Progesterone patch or a gel. It is rubbed onto the skin and left to be absorbed. There is also the Utrogestan tablet which is taken daily. The new kid on the block is the testosterone gel which improves libido and energy levels. There is another one that’s stuck “up there” to deal with the little stink. My research and interviews have led me to so many discoveries. I remember last year when we were having our class reunion and I was seated beside my friend. Out of the blues, she broke out into a profuse sweat on her face. It was literally dripping like someone had splashed her with a glass of water. All I could do was to give her the little information I had. Ladies don’t delay. You don’t have to suck it up and brave it out. Get some help and don’t suffer in silence. The best news of all is that one day it will all end. The menopause isn’t for ever, I didn’t even know that. Please leave some feedback about what your experience has been like. I would love to hear from you. I have realised that people’s experiences differ and you just might be helping some sister out there! https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1664369688224-5U6AL57DZJB5H42LNR4O/unsplash-image-TtmCQskf6xs.jpg Blog - Women of a Certain Age - Make it stand out Most women consider the topic of menopause embarrassing. As I had earlier mentioned, I didn’t even know I was in perimenopause until I was sleep deprived. That was the tip of the iceberg. Whenever I was extremely tired, I would not be able to fall asleep immediately despite my absolute exhaustion. I would lie down for hours, totally knackered but awake. I would long for sleep but it wouldn’t come. You could only imagine my frustration. When it came to my memory, it sometime seemed like there were dark patches over my brain that would not allow me access the words I needed. I struggled to recall names of people, towns, items etc. The word was always so close, yet so far away. It was a struggle to remember basic information. I also observed that my reading became quite slow. Sometimes I would read and not understand immediately. I could never keep up with reading when the television was scrolling. I didn’t know there was a name for it, brain fog. Once upon a time I was the family Scrabble champion, beating my husband effortlessly. Not anymore! My mathematician husband has become a man of letters and words. I never thought I'd see the day! Sometimes I would be driving and momentarily forget where I was going. I convinced myself that it was the beginnings of dementia. Twice, I booked appointments with the doctors and told them I had dementia. Both thought I was being incredulous. The lady doctor had a good laugh and explained to me what the problem was. It was a relief to find a name for it. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1664366147133-UPV19J1G5XIIFEBPP6E8/unsplash-image-DE9MM2voqKc.jpg Blog - Women of a Certain Age - Make it stand out I had a three-point strategy to counter this new problem. First, not to sleep too early; second, not to eat too late and third, not to have any evening teas or coffees. Alas, my strategy failed me! On nights when I’d wake up needing the toilet, the norm would be to walk with my eyes partially closed, arms stretched out so as not to fully “wake up”. I sometimes abused medication, especially the drowsy cough syrup for children. In 2020, I discovered that my insomnia was all part of the perimenopause. It was an unknown word to me and also to a lot of women, derived from the word menopause. What exactly is menopause? Simply put, it is a long-term hormone deficiency in women. A subject not much talked about and often in hushed tones. Perimenopause is the period just before the cessation of the monthly cycle and they share the same symptoms. As a woman ages, her body gets depleted of oestrogen. New research shows that menopause is not just a function of the ovaries that produce the oestrogen, but also of the brain. It can affect brain activity which eventually contributes to Alzheimer’s. Ignoring the symptoms can do more harm than good to the brain. A scan of a premenopausal brain and a mid-menopausal brain showed a significant drop in energy levels (up to 25%). The earlier you start treatment the better. Please ladies, don’t leave it until it’s too late. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/the-green-fields-saga monthly 0.5 2022-08-14 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1652374036796-JIK7JRKFWULUVWN851YY/unsplash-image-gL84ogFsV6s.jpg Blog - The Green Fields Saga - Make it stand out We had a chance to take a bath every other day by going to the near by stream and digging around for water. This was the only source of water we had for cooking and everything else. They generously gave us some smelly soap to bath with and some old clothes. I gratefully collected an oversized top and a wrapper. I still wonder where they got those clothes from. After the first week, things seemed to improve. We began interacting a little bit more with our captors. I even started looking for reasons to be happy. I thanked God that I was still alive even though in captivity. We fasted secretly and prayed a lot together with our eyes open. We didn’t want them to catch on. We asked God to help us and to save us. For some time, I believed in my prayers but soon started to doubt when nothing seemed to be happening. I got upset with God and stopped praying. How long would it take Him to deliver us from the kidnappers? I was very discouraged and lost hope. To make matters worse, our abductors started mocking us, and asking why our Jesus hadn’t come to save us yet. On a particular day (the 29th of May 2021), I observed that the leader of the group had been away for a few days. His second in command (2 I/c) suddenly announced that we would be going home that day. As if in a dream, we were immediately surrounded once again by a noisy horde of motor bikers. I was one of the first on a bike as we started the long ride down hill. I soon noticed that we seemed to be going round and round the same paths; maybe to make the journey look longer or to disguise the route. After what seemed like hours, we arrived at “Omal Farm” where we got dropped off. We asked some of workers for directions to Green Fields University, the meeting point with our parents. They were so kind and invited us to sit and have some refreshments. They asked if we were the kidnapped students. We had hardly affirmed before they whipped out their phones and started taking photos and videos. Rather than showing us the way to school to meet our parents, they called the Nigerian Police. The police came and took us to their make shift camp. They wrote down all our names, courses, levels in the university etc. As they were taking our details, there was a live recording going on, to give the impression that the Police had rescued us. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1652373840392-WL7JS9NNS8G8LL3WFS64/unsplash-image-XM-miHibz64.jpg Blog - The Green Fields Saga - Make it stand out Two days into the kidnap (Thursday), they randomly picked out three students and told us they were being sent home. It was quite painful not being one of the chosen few! I day dreamed about my mother and the family. I wished I was the one being sent home. I thought about the meals we usaully had together as a family. I was missing everything and everyone. Little did we know that the “chosen ones” would be executed, to send a message to our parents that they meant business. On Sunday, they picked out another two, to go home. Our envy knew no bounds. We only got to learn about their cold blooded murders after our release. Come rain, come shine, we were all outside, literally. Whenever it rained, it rained on all of us. We would sit there shivering until it ended and hoped for the sun to rise. The worst times to rain was the evenings. This automatically meant we would be sleeping in wet clothes and hoping to have better weather the next day so as to dry out. The kidnappers would always make a fire to warm themselves. We would nervously draw closer, hoping for some warmth. I can never forget the night I got stung by a scorpion. I can truthfully say that’s the most painful thing I have ever experienced in my life. I let out a loud scream which created some commotion. The captors had a remedy. They plucked a certain leaf, rubbed it on my leg and after a few incantations; the pain stopped like magic. The first week was the most horrendous as we endured so much beating. They seemed to let out their frustrations as they heard us screaming in pain. I observed that they didn’t look like the normal Nigerian Fulani who were slightly built, light skinned and with sharp features. My dad was a farmer and we had lived with Fulanis in Plateau State for decades. They are usually peaceful and very respectful of their neighbours. These Fulani kidnappers were dark skinned, tall and well built. Some confessed to being from Chad Republic and others from Niger Republic. They said they had been recruited to do some special work for “the government”. Unfortunately the terms of their contract had not been honoured and so, they had to find an alternative means of livelihood in Nigeria. They certainly weren’t complaining any longer!! https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1652374255048-5IUIR22363V9SWGKBM79/unsplash-image-xho5McIRNWY.jpg Blog - The Green Fields Saga - Make it stand out Our parents on the other hand were getting agitated because they hadn’t seen us. They had paid the huge ransom and were waiting at the agreed location to pick up their children. My dad, who had been one of the negotiators called the kidnappers to ask where we were. He complained that we still hadn’t shown up contrary to what they had been promised. The 2 i/c told him that they could see the Nigerian Police interrogating us in their camp. The kidnappers were watching from a safe distance. The police had herded us into a mini van and were about to take us to another location. My dad was furious when he heard this. He mobilized the parents and they made their way to the police camp. When I saw my dad, I burst into tears. I didn’t know he had been around negotiating and fighting for my release. I felt so loved by him and by my sister. At this point, there was a stand off between the parents and the police. They wanted to take us to their station for a formal handover ceremony to our parents. As was to to be expected, our parents were having none of it. “Where had they been for the past forty days while their children were missing?”. In the end, the police allowed one of the parents to drive the bus away to a hotel where we had a proper reunion with our families. One year later, how has it been for me? I can say that my life has changed considerably. Retelling the story has had a profound impact on me. I found myself reliving the horrors and in tears as I remembered all that we went through. One of the effects has been the night mares and insomnia which have become part of life. It’s difficult to sleep through the night and I am afraid of being alone. On the positive side however, I am back in another university and working hard to put the past behind me. I thank God for the gift of life and for His faithfulness. Thank you for reading my story. Please do leave a comment and yes, you can share https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1652374837016-1UGC5Y4UD5KY6JBKBEPK/unsplash-image-LRoleO6DmQ8.jpg Blog - The Green Fields Saga - Make it stand out Once we got the all clear, we continued on our trip until we got to a little settlement. At the camp, we saw a number of people, most of whom were blind folded. When I saw this, I began to wonder if we might have been kidnapped. Until then, It hadn’t crossed my mind. Never in a million years had I ever imagined being kidnapped. Being hit by a car, yes; but not a kidnap. I looked around me taking in all our new “house mates.” I secretly hoped we would be given a room to sleep in but of course, It wasn’t to be. Looking back, I wonder why I ever thought we could be offered a real room to sleep in, in the middle of nowhere. I guess my mind was simply clutching at straws, trying to keep hope alive. Our staple meal was rice and beans cooked with palm oil and salt. The female students had the responsibility of cooking the food. There was no kitchen, no plates nor cutlery. The food was served on flat plastics from jerry cans that had been cut up. None of us could eat for the first few days as we were still trying to get our heads around this new reality. I still didn’t have any shoes and felt miserable, lonely and very homesick. We had the open skies as our bedroom. They provided us with a large plastic sheet which we placed on the grass as a [bed] sheet. It was a tight squeeze trying to get some space on the sheet. Some of us were not so fortunate and had to sleep on the bare hard ground. We had no pillows nor blankets. All we had were the clothes on our backs; no toothbrushes, no toothpaste nor change of underwear. Those things did not seem to matter so much. All of a sudden, we had a new perspective on what was important and what was not. I eventually managed to get a pair of socks from another student who was fortunate to have been wearing both socks and shoes. Those socks served as my shoes for the six weeks we were in captivity. One night, as I laid miserably on the earthen floor almost falling asleep, I felt a splash of ice-cold water across my body. One of our captors had a bucket of water and was deriving pleasure in splashing it on us as we tried to sleep. How mean can humans be!! I couldn’t comprehend such a sick, sadistic behaviour from an adult man. In such moments, you appreciate the things you had always taken for granted. The ability to sleep in your bed undisturbed. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1652373217711-R2NQHX183ZSFP0E01T1I/unsplash-image-3EMw3T-ZjkE.jpg Blog - The Green Fields Saga - Make it stand out Hannatu rushed into the room shouting hysterically, “GUN SHOTS! GUN SHOTS! GUN SHOTS!!” . It took a while for it to sink in as we stared at her in disbelief. Without thinking, we dashed out of the room to see what was happening. We all saw the “Military Men” at the same time wearing green camouflage and carrying their AK47s. As if on cue, we turned around and raced into another room, securing ourselves in the toilet. The “Military Men” were soon at our door speaking a funny broken English mixed with Hausa. From their accents, we could tell they were the dreaded Fulanis. It was like being in a movie, everything seemed to be in slow motion. BANG, BANG, BANG on the door….. “KU BUDE, ZAN HARBA” (open the door or I’ll shoot). We didn’t need much persuasion as their reputation preceded them. We opened the toilet door, lifting our hands in surrender. As we were herded out, we saw other groups being marched down the campus road. It had been a coordinated attack with different parties going to the library, male hostels, cafeteria etc. We were asked to wait for the rest of the company so we could all move together. I was not really scared at first as I wondered who they were and where they were taking us. We marched in a single file for a long distance. It was painful for me as I was barefooted on a sandy but thorny path. We went across a stream and were asked to all sit down, as if waiting for something or someone. Not long after, a gang of motor cyclists arrived and we were ordered to get on them, two passengers per bike. It didn’t take long to realise that they were inexperienced riders. There were numerous accidents along the way and I was not spared. Whenever we crashed, he would hurriedly ask us to get back on quickly so we wouldn’t fall behind. At a point, we heard an helicopter flying above us and we were abruptly ordered to get off the bikes and hide. By this time, it was dark and they had switched off their head lamps. We were in the middle of nowhere and couldn’t see a thing https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/its-never-too-late monthly 0.5 2023-08-11 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1643635076762-PSVNRK8E00AYQ1WT68PW/unsplash-image-pwr2uTPpz68.jpg Blog - It’s Never Too Late - Make it stand out We must be careful about our thoughts and what we allow to plague our minds. The Bible says “as a man thinks, so he is”. If our thoughts dwell continuously on being a failure, a failure we eventually shall become. It’s almost as if negative thoughts attract a negative force to make that thought a reality. It is so crucial to watch what our minds dwell upon. This is a good reminder of the well-known analogy of ‘a glass of water’. For some, it’s always half full while for others, it’s half empty; all a matter of perspective. Do you have the capacity to believe it’s ‘half full’ even when its looking ‘half empty’? I’ve realised that being positive in adversity is a lot of hard mental work. I am naturally a “half empty” kind of girl. My natural disposition is not to take risks and to view everything with fearful scepticism. I must however add that I have come a long way. With the realisation of my natural disposition, I intentionally watch out for any malaise and create an alternative positive thought trend. I look for words in the Bible that would inspire me and I speak them out to myself. When you do that sufficiently, you begin to believe what you hear. You will also be inspired to do something in line with it. It is never too late to believe for better. It is never too late to want to change things, to improve your life. You begin by identifying what you’d want to do, have a plan, appraise your plan, and start doing something. The Bible also says that “faith without action is dead”. It simply means that it is not enough to believe and to speak out positive words, we must do something about it. Don’t be afraid of little beginnings, of small steps. May we all have the guts to do something different, even if we have to do it afraid. In Jesus name, Amen https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1643634852816-WKUEAL46E4UL1YQEZFPH/unsplash-image-gO-iULv-qbU.jpg Blog - It’s Never Too Late - Make it stand out Indeed, nothing is impossible to them that believe! However, if you have a lazy mind, a lot of things will be too late for you. Just go for it! Run the marathon, write the book, start the business, follow your dream. Your worst enemy is fear because it paralyses you and enlarges all the problems; real and imaginary. It will give you a thousand reasons why you can’t make it, why it will fail, how the loan won’t come through, how you don’t really have what it takes to run a business and you don’t want to embarrass yourself again. The list is endless. What do you do when you’ve done all that you know to do, given all that you know to give and nothing seems to change? What do you do? What you do is, to stand there and dig deeper for more. In some instances, giving up would not be an option. You must believe enough in what you desire and not allow yourself to be mentally defeated. There is nothing greater than a mind made up, a mind that decides “enough is enough”. When you get to that point, you are suddenly overcome with a supernatural energy. You feel almost invincible. The mind is a powerful thing. Success and failure start there. There is an interesting story I came across some years ago. It was about a man called Nick Sitzman who froze to death in an unplugged freezer. Although he was fit and healthy, he was also a notorious worrier. He always feared the worst. One day, he was mistakenly locked into an industrial freezer in his workplace. He called out for help but to no avail. The freezer was not even connected to power and yet, Nick froze to death because of fear. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/magnetic-resonance monthly 0.5 2022-08-16 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1630503018894-L16BW1MJ0P5JKL5AEMAY/unsplash-image-f2aDTqfnqfE.jpg Blog - Magnetic Resonance - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1630502581381-AP5XQTSW78SBIK9XQ0LI/unsplash-image-sTTeaN4wwrU.jpg Blog - Magnetic Resonance - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1630503354867-40JNP1HUQNSH0OMPS49G/unsplash-image-dec_1nD-Ix0.jpg Blog - Magnetic Resonance - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/the-perry-men monthly 0.5 2023-08-04 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1627840718245-1D4JGXYXIAV1I8P5WFAT/unsplash-image-khJJqciKS10.jpg Blog - The Perry Men - Make it stand out Every woman’s story is different. Lets hear from you ladies of a certain age. “How is the party going?” The good news is that it will end one day. Once the hormones have run their course, it will be nice and quiet again. We will be able to put away our hand fans. Don’t hold your breath though! Thanks everyone for taking the time to read this blog. Do leave a response in the comments box. I would love to hear your story!! Anyone had dementia too?? Yes, better days ahead ladies https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1627840554715-A016WNMUFJPB1T3TZ4YQ/unsplash-image-zlbB-anyO3I.jpg Blog - The Perry Men - Make it stand out I was researching how to beat Alzheimer’s and praying against it daily. The two scriptures I was using from the Bible were; “He sent forth His word and healed them, and delivered them from all their destructions.” Ps 107:20 “For the word of God is alive and powerful, it is sharper than the sharpest two edged sword…” Heb 4:12 I stood on the efficacy of God’s word. The Bible became my medication, I took my study to a new level. The Word had the power to heal dementia and to cut off every diseased part of my brain. It is alive, it is sharp, it heals. The fight was on! I decided to completely relax in my faith in God and chose not to talk about it to anyone, not even my husband. I didn’t want to have him worried about me. The only time he got a whiff of it was when we went for our “over 50’s” health check in December 2020. That was the first time I had acknowledged it to anybody. I told the male nurse that I thought I had dementia. He didn’t agree with me (but he didn’t laugh at me either). He asked if I sometimes forgot where my car was parked, “no.” Did I keep my keys in the fridge? “Absolutely not.” Did I forget my children’s names or what day it was? “Never.” He reassured me that it wasn’t dementia as much as I tried to convince him otherwise. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1627840058151-U90XLD9AAVU46VH8JX2G/perry+blue.jpg Blog - The Perry Men - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1627839762191-HAHBLFANBF5N29PI78D1/perry+red.jpg Blog - The Perry Men - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/i-do monthly 0.5 2022-08-16 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1625163895269-Z66S53YQJZQ260P15CAH/unsplash-image-DZcZ4Kskq6U.jpg Blog - I Do - Make it stand out So what do you have to say? Since we can’t divorce nor murder them, what do we do? Please let’s have your thoughts in the comments section below. Thanks so much for taking the time to read this blog. Remember, iron sharpens iron. You never know who might benefit from the word from you. Yes, you can share, share, share https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1625163289740-VJO0YTMZUEK798U9SM35/unsplash-image-Ctaj_HCqW84.jpg Blog - I Do - Make it stand out Are things really that bad? How do people survive an unhappy marriage? What are the issues at hand? Please I need help with this. Can we have responses in the comments section below about the causes of marital breakdowns. What issues have you come across? What cries have you heard? How many hurting hearts have you consoled? What is the problem with marriage? Has it always been like this or are things getting worse? These questions have weighed heavily on my heart especially as my children are getting older. My son recently confirmed to me that a lot of his peers are choosing to co-habit rather than marry. The issue of money seems to play a huge role in their decisions. There is the question of who gets the house in the occasion of the marriage breaking down? He also mentioned that young people these days consider the option of signing a prenuptial agreement before saying “I do.” Who does that!!! I was gobsmacked. A prenup? They are obviously thinking ahead and making contingency plans in case it all goes south. Unfortunately the UK law does not have that provision for prenups, he wistfully added. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1625163665075-DODFHTYFWSLCPKXWTCF0/unsplash-image-aVrZMPgN_Vg.jpg Blog - I Do - Make it stand out The sense I get from a lot of women is that they are tired of being considered as second rate beings. They are tired of the male domination, intimidation and superiority complex. They feel they can hold their own to any man. To be fair to them, they can. Some marital stories are really gruesome and some heads of the families have shown how inadequate they could be. How do we correct the problem? How do we pour some sweet wine into those soured homes? How do we erase the painful memories and abuse of many years? Is there any hope of rescue? Does the Word of God still have a role to play? Are there some signs to watch out for? It was a huge eye opener for me when I learnt that God was the Creator of marriage and that He also had a Guide Book for it. Its a shame that we hardly apply the strategy of the Manufacturer found in the Guide Book. No wonder we run into difficulties. I obviously don’t have all the answers but I know that there is more to marriage than the miserable quotes above. I was brought up in a home that wasn’t the greatest example of marital bliss. My parents certainly were not madly in love but they were civil to each other. They all understood their roles and played it diligently. I have heard of homes where there is physical abuse, where the wives (and husbands) get beaten up for any reason under the sun. In some cases, the women were doing better financially and it became a big problem for the husbands. All I can share is my own reality. The principles of the Bible are working for me and I am happy to continue in them. Do I get upset with my husband? Absolutely. Do we sometimes fall out? 100% Yes. I remember the wife of Billy Graham (Ruth-Bell Graham) who was once asked by a TV journalist, “have you ever considered divorcing him?” She smartly answered, “divorce, no. Murder, yes.” https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1625163499385-CF2HKDGG80OK71BS397L/unsplash-image-L8V802a8lz0.jpg Blog - I Do - Make it stand out Sometimes I wonder if the older generation is giving an unrealistic impression of what marriage is all about to young people? My son once told me that he had never heard me lie to his dad nor seen us have an argument. All he was used to was a lot of laughter and us teasing each other. He has seen me happily “waiting on” my husband, asking if he was ready to eat, hot meals being served, the table cleared and washing up done. He has also seen his dad bending over backwards to ensure I am comfortable and well provided for. He has observed me being spoilt, given constant gifts for no apparent reason except that he loved me. I on the other hand have been accused of being old fashioned and too subservient by some of my friends. I guess there could be some truth in that but the good news is that, it works for me. I wouldn’t want to set my children up for failure so I have started having a new conversation with them. Not all women would be like mum. The deciding factor would be where they are coming from, how they have been raised and what their values are. Are they Christian? Do they believe and accept that a man is the head of a woman? What does that even mean? Would they be happy to live in that reality? I realise that these are contentious topics and not very popular with today’s culture. Even within the Church, not many people accept this Truth nor interpret it the way I do. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/home-sweet-home monthly 0.5 2022-08-16 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1622494585850-VZKS7YRG7FIE0URZ9Z0N/unsplash-image-oMiq-xdpinU.jpg Blog - Home, Sweet Home? - Make it stand out We eventually came to a large camp. It looked very well organised, with a kitchen and a crude medical section. There were other kidnapped victims too, some chained to trees. A lot of them looked half dead. At this point, the three of us were separated; my husband and daughter taken away. I felt very hopeless and helpless, wondering if I would see them again. I realised that there was a certain comfort in seeing my family near me. The mind begins to play tricks and suggest some things that could be going on. The next sound I heard was the piercing scream of my daughter calling for her dad and mum. I could only imagine what was happening to her. As a mother, you are ready to protect your child even with your life but in that instance, I wept in physical pain as I heard her screaming. Whilst this was going on, I saw them gather the remains of a woman who had just died for burial. New Fulani men also arrived the camp and a training was organised for them. They were taught how to use the AK47 and how to walk through fire in a ritual session. It was very well organised. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1622494883079-M3W806UYM82FUD2ZZ9H4/unsplash-image-gJJhG4gM7NA.jpg Blog - Home, Sweet Home? - Make it stand out As devout Muslims, we have taken solace in our faith. I am also thankful for my husband who has been supportive towards me, encouraging me to write my story as a means of therapy. We have made a vow that none of our children nor ourselves will ever return to Nigeria in our lifetimes. Even in death, we do not wish to be buried there. Good bye Nigeria.” This is truly a traumatic story and you wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemy. My heart goes out to them. I thank God that none of them were killed and that they made it out physically intact. May they find true healing and restoration IJN. My greatest heartbreak is that these sort of stories happen everyday in Nigeria and are barely reported. Please pray for my nation if you can. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1622494209748-1262V1RGHE1U103XT80W/unsplash-image-y5AMrynNBsE.jpg Blog - Home, Sweet Home? - Make it stand out “It was a beautiful evening, with the sun settingas we journeyed back to Lagos. Suddenly, two of our tyres ruptured. The car wobbled along for a while until the driver was able to safely park by the roadside. It would only be a matter of minutes to change the tyres, I reasoned and we would soon be on their way. It had been a long day visiting family and we were all tired. In the blink of an eye, we were surrounded by armed bandits, five in front of us and two behind. They started shooting at the boot of the car. It was like a movie. My daughter screamed out in terror, ‘Mummy, daddy what's going on?’ There was no time to respond as were ordered out and marched into the thick forest, their AK47s firing into the air. In panic, we all did as we were told. I wasn’t sure why but one of them gun butted me on my chest and also hit my daughter’s head. Immediately, blood started running down her face. In reflex I turned and shouted at him. He instantly grabbed me by the groin and tore off my wrapper and blouse. I was left semi naked with only my underwear on. My husband and daughter started crying in despair. Like wild animals, two of the men dug their teeth into my breasts to let us know they meant business. I can't begin to explain the fear I felt. Listening to them, I knew they were speaking the Fulani language. During my secondary school years, I had lived with some Fulani girls and picked up on it. I started pleading with them, asking for mercy, especially for my 9-year-old daughter. They completely ignored me but rather stripped the little girl at gun point and carried her away. All we could hear was our baby crying ‘daddy, mummy, help me.’ I was half naked and she was completely naked; we marched for nine hours into the thick of the forest. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1622494705238-ZM0KTDTSX5OJ3VK3U0DO/unsplash-image-tyBPrBKMp84.jpg Blog - Home, Sweet Home? - Make it stand out On one of the days , they asked my husband what he would prefer, to watch his daughter being raped (again) or his wife. He broke down in tears pleading. They gave him a third option of himself being raped by another man. He tried to reason with them saying he was a devout Muslim and that rape and homosexuality were forbidden in Islam. Immediately they hit him with the butt of a gun. ‘What do you know about Islam?’ They asked. ‘If you fail to make a choice, we will do all three.’ At this point, I decided to make myself the sacrificial lamb to save my family. My husband begged and begged and asked them to name their price. It was to no avail. In the end, he was beaten severely and I endured the desecration of being gang raped by our captors. Through it all, I wasn’t allowed to cover myself even though it was raining. I was there for the taking by them all. After six days, an agreement was reached and a ransom was paid. We were then blindfolded and marched through the forest until we got to the motorway where we were recovered. We travelled back to Lagos and got the medical attention we needed. We couldn’t leave Nigeria fast enough. Although we have been set free from the kidnappers, we are still in captivity to the trauma. My daughter wakes up in the night screaming in terror. She keeps asking the same question, ‘Mummy, why? Why? Why?’ Unfortunately, I still don’t have an answer for her. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/kidnapped monthly 0.5 2022-08-16 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1619903038897-P6NPH5EOJA2BNDAAYFZD/unsplash-image-sp-p7uuT0tw.jpg Blog - Kidnapped https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1619903856063-48RT4OQX5WO86VDY9OD2/unsplash-image-lPCu8HnGU2E.jpg Blog - Kidnapped https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1619903341777-NIFAN6EFSSFO9HMSE3MX/unsplash-image-3ZUsNJhi_Ik.jpg Blog - Kidnapped https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1619904618022-IDH1CBO3V5E8IMWNXJW6/unsplash-image-EhyiZ9-Zfo0.jpg Blog - Kidnapped https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1619903539843-R47SBKNQ5LZSDRTJPORB/unsplash-image-tyBPrBKMp84.jpg Blog - Kidnapped https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1619904269566-914CJEWPS87VZB19RNHD/unsplash-image-Ou2skZXuNIU.jpg Blog - Kidnapped https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/the-corona-experience monthly 0.5 2022-08-16 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1615829065705-USDBF48RXS3H9BK551P0/unsplash-image-zlbB-anyO3I.jpg Blog - The Corona Experience That night, I had the same sickly experience. I woke up nauseous in the middle of my sleep with my mouth full of “something”. I ran to the toilet and emptied it, remaining in a crouched position as my stomach was heaving. I broke out in a cold sweat feeling extremely weak. I now have a special respect for carers who have no other job but to care for a family member round the clock. By the next Sunday, I took my final covid test and it was still negative. It was also the tenth day of our self-isolation. By the following day, we would be free to go out. The best news was that my husband was also still standing strong. I can only but thank God for His protection over my family. I realise that not everyone has been so fortunate as numerous families have faced the challenges of job loses and lives lost. As we look to the future, may we all find a reason to be hopeful once again. Thank you for reading my blog. Yes, you can share, share, share. Most importantly please leave a comment in the box. You can also access over twenty other stories as you click on the link. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1615828562286-ENFTEWSTY5SJ3VO3BECU/unsplash-image-a-gPTenlS0U.jpg Blog - The Corona Experience By the fourth day, I was feeling as poorly as Aimee. That night, I woke up with a start, my mouth filling up with some vile liquid and feeling very nauseous. I ran to the toilet and spat everything out, trying not to vomit. I was almost sure all three of us were now COVID infected. I couldn’t wait for Thursday to do another follow up test. My mind was repeatedly plagued with fear as I remembered all the instances of cross contamination between Aimee and myself. Whenever that happened, I would tell myself, “No, you don’t have COVID in Jesus name.” Yes, we had been in the same car on D day, we had shared the same phone, I had sat on her bed unknowingly, she had opened the house doors, she had handled our plates and glasses but “I still don't have COVID in Jesus name.” Aimee wasn’t eating much. Her plate would barely be touched when I picked it up after a meal. As I placed her breakfast on the fifth day, she was all smiles. “Mum I’ve been offered a new job and the pay is mwaaah!, another child to spoil you mum.” I could see the joy on her face as she shared her good news. It had a huge impact on me because I knew she had only just put in her resignation the day before she called in sick. She quit her job based on her convictions, some things she didn’t quite agree with in the company. In a season where people were losing their jobs, she had chosen to give up hers based on her Christian beliefs. I was so overjoyed that God had honoured her decision and given her, her dream job. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1615828341938-TD0O37ZHCRH1XH31GEEV/unsplash-image-Tzoe6VCvQYg.jpg Blog - The Corona Experience The next morning, the two test results came in. Aimee was definitely positive while I was mercifully negative. They called my mobile number as early as 8am asking to speak with Aimee. I went and handed her my phone. They took a list of everyone she had met or spoken to since her symptoms started. They were all sent messages to self-isolate for ten days. She returned my phone after she was done. I noticed that we weren’t offered any medication or advise, just to self-isolate, not to go to the shops, not to visit nor entertain any visitors. My only default was to ask close friends to pray. The horrors of Covid 19 were all around us and we knew the high death rates for black people. The next few days were a blur. Aimee had to be confined to her room. I made all the meals and delivered them to her. I brought her teas, juices and bottles of water. On the third day, her uncle brought her a treat; a big bowl of “pepper soup”. He rang the doorbell, dropped the package and stepped away. It was absolutely delish. I dished her a bowl and took it to her room. That evening, as I cleared away her dishes I noticed she had barely touched the pepper soup. By this time, she had practically lost her appetite and was stooling very badly. She was also very weak. Not wanting to throw away good food, I stored the leftover in the fridge as all good African mums do. About two hours later, my husband walked into the living room with an identical bowl of pepper soup. My heart dropped to the bottom of my feet as I hoped that he really couldn’t be having her left overs!! I had to play it cool and not let him see how flustered I was. He commented about how good it tasted. Mentally, I put him on a timer to see how long he would last before going down with the virus. I decided not to share my little secret with him. I didn’t want to scare him and make him more vulnerable. I would just pray for him. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1615827441334-27AFXXBBPQ9EXP3CJBKG/unsplash-image-vJ-8SrTCdHU.jpg Blog - The Corona Experience Aimee stayed in her room for most of the weekend as she was still unwell. Out of curiosity, I decided to try out my COVID 19 home testing kit on both of us. I had been feeling quite flu-ish too. It was quite straightforward, a few swabs up the nose, add the reacting agent, wait thirty minutes and Voila! I couldn’t believe the results . The last thing I had expected was a positive result. Unsure about what to do, I called my friend Edith who was married to a doctor. “Hennang my husband says you need to book a proper drive through NHS test so as to verify her status. You can do it online”. Luckily, I was able to arrange one for that evening. I booked both of us in. By 6pm, we were driving into the test centre, sitting side by side in the car. As we approached the gentle man at the gate, I began to wind down my window to ask him a few questions. The man started gesticulating vigorously for me not to wind down. He didn’t want any open contact with “us” in the car. It was like a scene from the Bubonic Plague on TV. The staff members communicated with large written placards shown through the glass screen. You were kept safely confined in your car with your virus. In the end, we opted to have a second party do the test for us. I saw Aimee’s red swollen larynx, it looked painful to the eye. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/light-in-the-closet monthly 0.5 2022-08-16 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1613422719409-HFE3ATH6O62QNQGOR8W1/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Light in the Closet While in College, Dom was introduced to contemporary Christian Music. He got to learn about Keith Greene and Annie Herring of 2nd Chapter of Acts. This lady had done drugs, got pregnant twice out of wedlock and was an unmarried mother. She was definitely in Dom’s league of sins, he surmised. Annie was however singing songs about God’s love and forgiveness. She was talking about being loved and her shame taken away by God. Was this possible? Could God really love a sinner? One as filthy as he was? He had been living a conflicted life since getting into college. He had an excellent public life but a shameful private one. In public, he performed beautifully doing everything to perfection. As long as he didn’t call any undue attention to himself, no one would suspect a thing,. His private life was in a sorry state. He felt defeated, worthless and so decided to keep everyone at arm’s length. One hot afternoon on his way to class, he heard someone shouting his name. It was Mr Pullman, a very respected faculty member. His son was also a classmate of Dom. It was a pleasant surprise as the two had never really been friendly. “How are you Dom? How are you getting on with your studies? Everything alright?” Dom was elated to be the centre of attention. Mr Pullman took a genuine interest in Dom, meeting once a week either for a coffee or just to chat. It was the beginning of a friendship, with the older man taking him under his wings. For the first time, he felt loved and appreciated. It began to feel like the sun could shine again. After a few weeks, Dom felt it was time to confide in his friend. He had made up his mind and had rehearsed many times. “Mr Pullman, there’s something I need to tell you. It’s a secret I’ve been carrying all my life and I’m scared to death to tell anyone”. Mr Pullman looked at him with concern and replied, “There is nothing you could ever say or do that could stop me from loving you Dom”. It was so reassuring to hear him and Dom started speaking. “All my life I have struggled with homosexuality”. As soon as those words were out of his mouth he felt like the weight of the whole world had been lifted from off his shoulders. He was suddenly filled with hope and gratitude at having someone to confide in. Mr Pullmans’ reaction was so unexpected and unpredictable. It was something Dom had never envisaged becuase he made a sexual pass at him. After this episode, Dom sank into a deep depression. He felt humiliated, dirty, betrayed, used and abused. He decided there was no need to live any longer. It was time to end it all. That night, he switched on the gas and let it flood his house. He laid quietly on his bed waiting to die. Suddenly he heard a still small voice asking him if he was ready to see his Creator? If he had made his peace? Dom got up and turned off the gas flow. He didn’t even have the guts to take his own life. There was absolutely no hope for him. He was however finally ready to accept who he was. He got himself a boy friend and set about enjoying his new found freedom. Maybe he could finally express what he had been born to be. Maybe he could finally find some peace. Dom jumped into this new life with both feet. It didn’t take long for him to realise that things weren’t working out the way he had hoped. He was still miserable, empty and unfulfilled. His new relationships were turning out to be a nightmare. Something was definitely missing. As a last resort, he decided to go to a seminary. If God hadn’t been able to find him in a Christian Musical College, maybe he might be found in a seminary. One couldn’t be worse than the other, so he thought! https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1613422559687-CNHJDUGDJY1PQ1N2GJXX/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Light in the Closet Another bone of contention in his life was the affirmation he needed from his father. The one thing he wanted to hear from him were the words “I love you son”, but it never came. The only time he saw his father excited was when he excelled in sports. Dad would go wild, jumping up and down and shouting Dom’s name. He had finally found the key to unlocking his dads love, it was performance. This marked the beginning of his life as a perfectionist, a win/win for him. One Saturday afternoon, Dom and his friends were playing hide and seek in Church. School was out, house chores had been done and he was as free as a bird. As he crouched under the pew, he overheard a conversation that would forever change his life. It was the Church Pastor and some elders. They were talking about the evil of homosexuality and how disgusted they were about it. The more they spoke, the more he froze under the pew. He slowly realised that they were discussing his reality. If they hated homosexuals and God hated homosexuals, then it meant that they hated him and God hated him too. He reckoned that these were the men “closest to God” and who knew God the most. That day, Dom made up his mind not to ever let anyone know what he was struggling with. As long as he kept it a secret, he would be fine. Dominic Jergens graduated from High School as a valedictorian. All his hard work had paid off. He got admission to study music in a Christian College in Oklahoma. The only problem was that although he was a musical genius, he still couldn’t read music. There was also a requirement that all music students be part of a choral group. On the day of his audition, the tutor asked, “Mr Jergens, please would you take this choral octave over to the third page and in the second squadron; and would you read the alto line in your register”. Dom stared back blankly and calmly replied in all honesty, “I don’t even know what you just said.” That was the end of his audition. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1613423004701-LC0ZL90QKO8KXRYPFAFD/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Light in the Closet Three days before departure to the seminary, Michael called him. He was an old acquaintance from college. “Hi Dom, the Lord has been talking about you to me lately.” “Huh”, scoffed Dom. “What has He been saying? He certainly doesn’t talk to me about me!” It turned out that Mike had repeatedly dreamt that Dom had become a huge musical phenomenon, writing, and producing amazing music that the whole world was singing. Coincidentally his mum had also had identical dreams. He invited Dom to move in with them. Life in his new home was satisfying. He had a job as a bus driver in a school. He did the morning and evening school runs leaving his afternoons free. This turned out to be the most challenging hours of the day for him because he was bombarded by homosexual thoughts. Michaels stable influence was pulling him in one direction while his idle mind was pulling him in another. Out of the blue one night, Mike said to him “I know what you’ve been struggling with”. Dominic froze as he instantly remembered his experience with Mr Pullman. “No you don’t” he replied as he bolted out of the door. He couldn’t believe it was happening again. He ran and ran and ran until he was completely exhausted. Looking up at the night sky he spoke, “If you are real Lord, I need you to speak to me”. As he looked at the sky, something bizarre seemed to happen. It was a moonlit night with clouds moving and shapes forming. To Dom, It looked like he was seeing an old bearded man carrying a lamb. It looked so real and like a direct answer to his painful prayer of a few minutes ago. This experience was such a great comfort to Dominic as he turned around and went back home. Michael was waiting for him when he got back. “I don’t know how to help you but I know Someone who can, His name is Jesus.” Dom gave a sarcastic laugh, “I’ve heard that all my life, Jesus has never done anything for me.” Michael was not put off by his response. He just took time to reassure him. “Lets just walk together and trust God to set you free. When you fall, I will not kick you, I will not tell you I told you so. If you’ll let me, I will pick you up and be a shoulder for you to cry on. I will be here for you.” After the last betrayal from Mr Pullman, Dom didn’t know what to make of it. Unbeknownst to both of them, something amazing was about to happen. There was a musical fiesta scheduled to take place in a few weeks. The band, 2nd Chapter of Acts was going to be the major group. Dom had always had a special connection with Annie Herring after hearing the story of her life. He usually joked that they were in the same league as sinners. Come the day of the programme, Dom was excited and ready to tape some music with his cassette recorder. Once again, Annie Herring was front and centre on the day. As she was singing, she suddenly stopped and started speaking “There is someone here who is going through something they never imagined they would go through. The person has had some devastating experiences and is holding some deep secrets in his heart. God says He sees those things and loves you anyway”. Dom was transfixed. He instantly felt she was talking about him. That day, he was lead to pray and to hand over all his struggles by faith to Jesus. There were tears, but they were tears of joy. He left that meeting a born again Christian and set free from his struggles. He went on to get married to a woman within two years and they have been blessed with nine children. Dom says one of his most frequently asked questions was “were you instantly set free or was it a process?” His answer was, “both.” Once he decided to commit his life to Jesus, something within him changed. His tastes and passions changed. It was an inner work that found expression on the outside. No one could deny the new person he had become. Thanks for reading my blog and don’t forget to leave a comment. Please share, share and share. You can find older blogs beneath the comments section. You can read more about this incredible true story on www.dennisjernigan.com https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/unansweredquestions monthly 0.5 2022-08-23 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1610754844621-FKG53274NHJ2W8D02MK4/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Unanswered Questions I guess everyone has a reason why they believe what they believe. Faith for me is literally a matter of life or death. My desire as much as possible is to get people round to my way of thinking. Not so long ago, my husband and I had the privilege of working within a university campus reaching out to students who had a lot of unanswered questions. We used a study material called the Alpha Course. The first week, we went round the hostels posting breakfast invitations through the doors. The big day arrived, it was Cranfield village in late October 2015; cold and murky. I was both nervous and excited, I didn’t know what to expect. We had the chef prepare a full English breakfast for twenty people while we laid out the long dining table. We set up the screen, the projector and waited. We waited and waited and waited but no one turned up. Feeling quite crushed after two hours, we all sat down and had a hearty breakfast. Three weeks down the line, a few people started trickling in. That first year, we had five Chinese students and one Polish guy. The Alpha Course isn’t strictly a Bible Study but rather a platform for discussion about the Christian faith. It dealt alot on the claims of Jesus Christ and posed the question, “Is there more to life than this?” I’m not sure who was more amazed on that first day, the students or myself. For most of them, they had never heard about Jesus and didn’t quite know what to make of Him. They wondered why He said, “I am the Way, the Truth and the Life.” Why is He the way? Where does He lead to? How is He the Truth? Aren’t there other truths out there? The Life? What life? It was all too new to the class. We had them watch a few video clips about the life of Jesus. They saw Him healing the sick, delivering the oppressed and feeding the hungry. One of them sitting beside me whispered into my ear, “Hennang, what does Jesus really want? Is He just a nice guy always doing good things? What does He really want? My eyes filled with tears as I listened to her. I hoped she was beginning to understand a little. I told her Jesus wanted to have a relationship with her. The Bible says “for everyone has sinned, we all fall short of Gods glorious standards”. It also says that “the wages of sin is death but the free gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” It makes it clear that there are consequences for living a sinful life and it is death. The Bible has labeled everyone born into the world as a sinner. Our nature is a fallen one that continually struggles to do good. We usually end up doing the things we hate to do no matter how hard we try. Does that mean that when a person has a relationship with Jesus they will never die? Absolutely not! Everyone on earth will die one day but unfortunately that won’t be the end. After death, there will be a judgement on how we lived our lives on earth; on whether we accepted or rejected the free gift of Jesus. I explained that Jesus would never force Himself on anyone. She needed to invite him into her life to save her. Everyone had to make that decision for themself. Liu stopped the class one day and asked if we had “empirical proof to support all we were saying”. He was very intellectual and needed to see, touch or taste before believing. Thankfully the Alpha Course curriculum was able to present some documented historical facts to back up some of the Biblical stories. We also explained that he needed faith to believe what the Bible was offering. We talked about prayer and how to talk to God through prayer. We challenged everyone that was having difficulty accepting what we were saying to simply pray and ask God to prove Himself. Prayer was simply talking honestly to God. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1610755117599-Q9L4VCOC1JAG0GLW0QMC/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Unanswered Questions One of the greatest challenges we experienced in reaching intellectuals with the message of Jesus was their over brilliant minds. We were faced with the bing bang theory and the theory of evolution. Ofcourse it went right over my head. I wasn’t sure if they were separate theories or the same. I didn’t have a clue on how to handle the discourse. What do I know about science? I couldn’t even spell the word. I don’t know anything about how the ice melted fifteen million years ago, how the water content affected the surface area of the bone structure of early man and how a big loud explosion gave life to everything. That was definitely above my pay grade. My husband and son however enjoyed having those intellenctual discussions. I remember being described as the “feelings” person and the others as the “logical” ones. During Alpha, the class was confronted by the love of God. It was the love of a Father who didn’t want anyone to be lost. He said, “I love you with an everlasting love”. Some of them were being plagued by fears. Some had been hurt terribly in relationships, by fathers who had abandoned them. Others were in abusive marriages, some were feeling like worthless failures. God kept repeatedly telling them “I love you with an everlasting love and I love you just the way you are. I will never turn away anyone who comes to me”. An important question that was constantly asked during Alpha was how do we reach this God. The good news is that we dont have to do anything to reach Him. He is already waiting, arms wide open. Just ask Him in, speak to Him. He says “whosoever will, let him come”. It is still an open invitation. Don't forget to leave a comment and to share. You can find other stories below the comments section. Thanks for stopping by :) https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/ofapplesandbananas monthly 0.5 2025-01-26 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1605469497065-H26APT9E5ADUMEYKAUOG/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Of Apples and Bananas In conclusion, I would challenge everyone to be the best version of who they are; whether an apple or a banana. You are special, you are different, you are you. There is no one else that can be you except you. You bring something unique to the table. There is a special assignment that only you can perform on earth. You are in a race and you must stay in your lane. Your skills, temperament and persona are perfectly suited for the things you were created to do. I have finally accepted that I can never be a neuro physicist or a medical doctor. I can’t even be the CEO of a multi-million dollar company. I just don’t have the capacity. I can however be a wonderful mother and wife. I am a good and dependable friend. I can bring kindness and healing to the hurting. Don’t try to be someone else. Concentrate on being the best version of yourself. Make yourself indispensable. It will take hard work, but it is possible. If you can, always play to your strengths. Just because someone else is better than you doesn’t mean you are worthless. Celebrate others, celebrate your milestones. I believe in the power of prayer. Submit your weaknesses to God and ask Him to help you. Speak positively to yourself and about yourself. There is power in words. Look yourself in the mirror and tell yourself you can do it and then knuckle down and put in the hard work. Reject the false narrative you have always believed. Your lips might be thick and your hair kinky, but you are still beautiful. You are perfect just the way you are and someone out there will love all of you. Study hard, practice hard and pick yourself up when you fall. Remember to stay the course and I’ll see you at the finish line. Thank you so much for reading my blog. I would really love to know what you think about this one. Do you have any similar stories to tell? leave a comment and please share, share, share. You can find older blogs below the comments. Click on the arrow https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1605469092143-J6SQWK0OGZXVFRAUU65I/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Of Apples and Bananas I have a lot to thank my husband for because he has helped me blossom. The early years of marriage were challenging because he was a type A personality. I could never hope to win an argument with him so I had to devise my own means of dealing with him. I would sit it out without saying a word to him until he ran out of steam. On the other hand, I discovered that I had the solutions to the dilemmas he was always facing. In my simplicity, I could offer solutions to his problems. I realised that I was able to offer an alternative view point that he couldn’t see. I didn’t even need to think about it, my views were always polar opposite to his and always seemed to make sense. That was the beginning of the regaining of some of my self-worth. We must learn to silence the voice that keeps on telling us we are not good enough. I came across this beautiful poem below. I don’t know who wrote the poem but it captures an important essence of our human struggle. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1605468501081-CGU6O979BCTNN0B5UQSN/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Of Apples and Bananas We were in the same school and in the same class. Betsy was exceptionally smart and would usually come first. No matter how hard I tried, I could never top the class. On a good day, I would be either 4th or 5th. I remember when our school was invited to the Jos TV Station to present a Children’s programme. Betsy was chosen to participate and I wasn’t. I cried so hard that my mum took me along when she went to drop Betsy off. I wore my favourite red dress with a white collar. I still remember the presenter being confused because they had one extra child. No one said a word. All those experiences made me feel I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t good enough to come first, I wasn’t good enough to be on TV, wasn’t good enough to have ribbons in my hair. Even when my mums’ friends visited, they would sometimes ask, “Mrs Mathew, which one is your daughter? The darker one or the lighter” She would say, the darker one. Surely being light skinned was the same as being pretty. Many years later in secondary school, things hadn’t changed much. I felt like an ugly duckling because I believed my lips were too thick. At a point, I would suck them in to make them look slimmer which made me look disfigured. That’s what happens when we believe a lie. It wasn’t until my mid- thirties was I able to trace the root of all my insecurities. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1605468160678-829MZCAAV6XXSI6S01FD/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Of Apples and Bananas Psychologists often say that our fears and insecurities can be traced to events in our early lives. I can easily say that mine was as a of result of a friend who lived with us for a few years between the ages of six and nine. Those were happy days as we played at home, on the grounds of Hilltop House in Jos. Unfortunately, those were also years when I suffered a lot of scarring without knowing. In my mind, I felt Betsy was prettier than me, taller than me, smarter than me, lighter skinned than me, had longer hair than me and was therefore better than me. Please dont’t ask me how I ever arrived at those extreme conclusions. Betsy had a full head of soft silky hair, effortless to run a comb through. It was long enough to make into a ponytail. She got to wear all the ribbons and hair clips. I on the other hand had real short kinky African hair. It was painful to comb and never grew beyond a certain length. Forget the hair ribbons! On Saturdays, the “Mai kiso” (hair braider) came to make our hair for the new school week. I was her nemesis. I would squirm and cry because of the pain while Betsy sat through like an angel. The result was apparent. She always received compliments for her beautiful hair dos to my hearing. My little brain kept misinterpreting the message. All I “heard” was, Hennang you are not beautiful enough. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1605469277620-MF1W94QJ1FEQDTIW9KO8/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Of Apples and Bananas BEING YOURSELF You must learn that you cannot be loved by all people You can be the finest apple in the world Ripe, juicy, sweet, succulent and offer yourself to all But you must remember there will always be people who don’t like apples You must understand that if you’re the world’s finest apple, And someone you love doesn’t like apples, You have the choice of becoming a banana But you must be warned that if you choose to become a banana You would be a second-rate banana But you can always be the finest apple You must realise that if you become a second-rate banana There will always be people who don’t like bananas Furthermore, you can spend your life trying to become the best banana Which is impossible if you are an apple If you can try again Be the finest apple https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/to-have-and-to-hold monthly 0.5 2023-07-28 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1604242934844-WYPK7ZRSP9BJFX8ZD5EE/image-asset.jpeg Blog - To Have and to Hold Love isn’t cheap. On the contrary, it is costly. It will cost everything a man possesses to truly love. It demands our patience, our self control, our resources, our humility, our giving in for peace sake. Love is something we do and not something we say. It is also a subject greatly misunderstood and easily confused with lust. Little wonder so many marriages tend to fail these days. A lot of people are not able to pay the price of love especially when there is the option of a divorce. Our pride is the greatest barrier to love. No one wants to feel taken for granted or cheated. No one likes feeling disrespected in a relationship, treated like rubbish or spoken to in a condescending manner. Our egos get injured and we seek revenge. The natural instinct in man is generally to be selfish. Even in our choice for marriage, we would normally have a mental list of what we’d expect the other person to have. It is usually about what we can get from the other, eg their looks, charisma, financial strength, etc etc. I’m not saying that having a list is wrong. What is most important is having a list for yourself as well, being mentally prepared for the demands of love and not just the benefits. I have met quite a few people who complain about the challenges of marriage. They say there is no handbook to guide us through, seemingly after being thrown into the deep end without a float. Is our only hope having to learn on the job? Not quite! The Author of marriage actually wrote a handbook for it. It’s a handbook very few care to consult, preferring to use their natural intelligence. How can we hope to succeed in marriage when our examples are from Hollywood? In my opinion there are two non-negotiables from the Bible that form the bedrock of marriage. The first is the instruction given to men to love their wives and the second, for wives to submit to their husbands. Let me attempt to explain a little. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1604243040025-PF06HKLI6CVOKGCSSUJZ/image-asset.jpeg Blog - To Have and to Hold I am proudly African, always have been and forever will be. I don’t know about other cultures but every married African man loves respect, especially from his wife. I have discovered that once a woman can make her man feel like the king of the palace, she will probably have him eating out of her hands. Once he can feel appreciated, honoured, and respected, there is nothing he wouldn’t do for that woman. No man wants a mouthy, stubborn wife. No man wants a battle every single time he presents a suggestion or an idea to his wife. He wants to be given a chance to lead, provide and protect his home. It’s so important to a man to accomplish these. I didn’t even realise that men were naturally wired that way until much later in my marriage. I couldn't understand why my husband was always so difficult, why it was WW3 just to get him to agree with me. It was because I was locking horns with him at all times. Unknowingly I was always challenging his position as the Head of the family which in turn made him feel small and insignificant. The end result was that he would assert himself and guess who got the brunt. Today, thankfully with greater wisdom, I’m the neck that turns the head quite easily (shhhhh). So, is the wife supposed to be a “yes man” bowing and scraping before the almighty husband? Absolutely not. Can she not say anything? Can she have an opinion? Can she live? Yes, yes and yes. Marriage would be so beautiful if everyone would just stay in their lane and do the right thing. Men, love your wives and remember that love is first of all a verb, not an emotion. Husbands make her feel special. Appreciate her, compliment her, listen to her, help her and lead her by example. Be a man of honour and of your words. Confide in her and plan with her. The greater onus is on the man to do more because he is the head of the family. The Bible says “we love Him because He first loved us.” This is referring to the relationship between the Church and Jesus. We had no capacity to love Him until he first reached out to us in love. He actually loved us enough to lay His life down for us (Its all in the Bible, John 3:16). This is what husbands are called to do. To love the wife enough to lay down everything for her. She in turn showers him with all the “submission” he needs to carry on. Am I suggesting that every marriage would always run smoothly? Nope. Will it be heaven on earth everyday? Not likely. Will all the disagreements and bickering stop? I wish!!! All I’m saying is that committing to the Manual has never failed. The Author of marriage is the Helper of marriage. He is ever available to heal and to mend the broken hearted. All you need is to call upon Him. His line is open 24/7. Thank you for reading my blog. Kindly leave a comment below. Yes you can share and subscribe. PS: a few people have asked me why I always say “text STOP to unsubscribe”, I am required by law to always give an opt out option to my audience. Please don’t take it personally and don’t text STOP either. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1604242722747-33FVVIWP9MP4AG0PMO4L/image-asset.jpeg Blog - To Have and to Hold The discourse however never left me. I wondered about the young lady who had been literally jilted at the altar. At least, a broken engagement is better than a broken marriage they say. Should she accept him if he ever came back to say he was sorry? Could she be termed lucky for finding out the type of person he was? Can love be automatically switched on and off? It’s a very difficult question to answer and a lot of things would have to be considered first. Some ladies have said they could never take him back no matter how much he apologised or begged. I don’t know if I’m just a big softie at heart but I would beg to differ. I wonder if he ever showed any “straying tendencies” while they were dating. What kind of relationship did they have? What values did they share? Those are the things to consider before taking a final decision. I am a Christian and if I were in their shoes, my decisions would be guided by my beliefs. Only a person who truly understands what love is can forgive and carry on. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1604242839895-QXFXKVAGQ4EQ5ZO1OFQQ/image-asset.jpeg Blog - To Have and to Hold I remember years ago while I was still in my twenties and a preacher said “how can you love when you don’t know what love is?” To be honest, I didn’t have a clue about what he was talking about. He further expounded, “You can’t truly love when you don’t know who Love is” (meaning Jesus). In my mind I thought, “what an effrontery! How could he conclude that Jesus was love. What did Jesus have to do with love? Jesus is Church, long sermons, often times boring. He wouldn’t know the first thing about love if it was staring Him in the face.” How mistaken I was. The real test of love is when things are falling apart. It is easy to love when people are nice, polite, honest, likeable, faithful etc. The test is when we are faced with the ugly and the unloveables. It’s in those times that what the Preacher said would make sense. The Bible describes Jesus as the personification of Love. It also breaks down the attributes of love as seen below. 4.Love is large and incredibly patient. Love is gentle and consistently kind to all. It refuses to be jealous when blessing comes to someone else. Love does not brag about one’s achievements nor inflate its own importance. 5.Love does not traffic in shame and disrespect, nor selfishly seek its own honour. Love is not easily irritated or quick to take offense. 6.Love joyfully celebrates honesty and finds no delight in what is wrong. 7.Love is a safe place of shelter, for it never stops believing the best for others. Love never takes failure as defeat, for it never gives up. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/restorative-justice monthly 0.5 2022-08-17 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1602798407769-F1GS0E3392HGJL3YAMKT/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Restorative Justice Out of the four perpetrators, only Chris was convicted and jailed for the murder of Loeshe. In prison, although he was known as little Chris, he couldn’t show the fear he felt. To show fear was to look weak and to be taken advantage of. To survive, he reinforced the gang beliefs and attitudes he had cultivated. He sat in jail for twenty long years before being invited to participate in the redemption project. The pinnacle of the programme was when they all had to sit together face to face. The hour couldn’t come fast enough for Donald. He had waited for this moment for a long time. All he ever wanted was to make eye contact with the shooter, something Chris had denied him on the day of the trial. His heart was still full of pain and fury. He only had one question to ask as Chris sat opposite him sobbing, head bowed. Don stared intently at him, lips quivering and tears quietly streaming down his face. He couldn’t form any words. At last, he spoke, “I have always wanted to ask, what was that all about? Why were you all so mad that day”. Chris took a deep breath as he responded, “Sir, I cant even tell you what it was all about. I wish I had an answer for you. I was a follower and didn’t ask any questions. I take full responsibility for my actions today and I am sorry.” Don couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was no apparent reason why his daughter was killed. Tension was thick in the air as Don stared at him weeping quietly. Chris still had more to say, “through the years, I kept on hearing about your works in the community but I never heard anything about Mrs Lacy. Please how is she? I can only imagine the impact of my actions on her.” Don confirmed that she had suffered and was still suffering. She was very upset to learn that he wanted to have the meeting with him as it didn’t make any sense to her. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1602797935730-SODDOIUTYPH2B3JKFR13/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Restorative Justice Chris had never known love nor stability while growing up. He had had an absentee father and an unavailable mother. His earliest memories left him feeling unwanted, unloved and unworthy of being loved. He talked about an incident when he was with his mum and his two younger brothers at age seven. They were standing on the stair case of an apartment building and their mum she said, “I’ll be back, y’all wait for me here”. She left them on that stair case and didn’t come back until the next day. Chris cried as he reminisced. This was to repeat itself over and over again for the next few years. They would be abandoned with complete strangers in random places for days. she could be gone for a few weeks and her classic words would be “I’ll be back later”. He was the oldest and felt responsible for his two younger brothers. Chris talked about an occasion where he was walking on the street with his brothers and being extremely hungry. They hadn’t eaten in days. He saw the empty box of a take way meal which was covered in ants. He didn’t see the ants. All he could see was the prospects of some crumbs. He picked it up, took out the leftover sauces and tasted them to ensure they were still okay. He shared it with his brothers, they were his life. The experience of lack, hunger and abandonment had such a detrimental effect on Chris. By the time he was eleven, he had been let down by every adult in his life. His mother and father had both abandoned him and family members had taken advantage of them. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1602797821129-NVU6XCCY99YKW578334Y/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Restorative Justice Donald was Loeshe’s father. He spoke fondly about the day she was born. Her mum had gone into labour by about 2am on the way to the hospital. She had been born in the back seat of the car as he drove. Her name was specially coined by her father, a combination of two African words from the Igbo language; Lolo – love and Eesher – life. She lived up to her name, a lover of life. She was a leader and people naturally gravitated towards her. Her premature death had completely shattered her father. Sadly, their marriage also couldn’t withstand the trauma of her tragic passing. All the pressure eventually drove him to seek for a meeting with the perpetrator (Christopher Smith) after struggling for years. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1602798252936-VM5GKNW0SS74SJ4C0WZC/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Restorative Justice At that point, for the first time in his life he found acceptance in a gang. They became the family he never had. The gang cared for him, spent time with him, fought for him and were there for him. He finally also had a best friend with the same first name, Christopher Fletcher. His gang meant the world to him. That year, the war was on! The Milton Street Gang and the Ghost Town Gang had been rumbling. Its very unclear what the problem had been and why Jonathan McDowell needed to be eliminated. All he remembered was that it was his turn to carry out the assignment as everyone else had had theirs. He didn’t ask any questions, he was a follower. Unfortunately, he was also struggling with the recent shooting of his best friend by the rival gang and this fuelled him even more. At 16, he wanted to prove his loyalty to the gang and affirm his manhood. He was eventually given a gun and three others to execute the mission. Chris talked about seeing Jonathan’s yellow van but not seeing the people. He remembered clearly firing the gun and escaping. The following day, he discovered in school that his friend and classmate had been shot dead. They were all 16 year olds. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1602797646303-NXPMQJ9HZUZFYNGSEWQU/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Restorative Justice It was 6pm, October the 20th 1997, a normal day and the end of a work day for the two girls. Maya and Loeshe were both tired and needed to get home. Luckily for them, they saw Jonathan McDowell who offered to give them a lift. Loeshe got into the front seat with him and Maya into the back. As they were about to take off, Loeshe had second thoughts. “Maya, would you like to sit in front?” Loeshes’ new boyfriend was extremely possessive and jealous. She didn’t want him seeing her in the front seat and wanted to spare herself all the explanations. She always felt so flattered when he acted all jealous and protective over her. As the van was about to take off, another car roughly cut them off and four young men with guns ambushed them. They opened fire on the car and turned the place into a war zone. Jonathan ducked behind the wheel and so did Maya. The two people in the front seats got away with surface wounds but not Loeshe. She was hit with seven bullets, execution style. She was at the wrong place at the wrong time, the innocent bystander. The police report said over 45 rounds of ammunition were fired. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1602798589350-2SN4E44OCHIHQ06OBHTY/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Restorative Justice Dons final words to Chris were “I forgive you. What’s most important is not how a man starts but how he ends. I know you’re sorry and I can see where your heart is.” The two men got up and hugged for a long time, each weeping for a different pain. Chris was put up for parole for the second time the following year. Don came for the hearing and his testimony was key to having him paroled. This story is a sad reality of many incarcerated men. For alot of them, their backgrounds would play major roles in their mishaps, especially growing up without positive father figures. It breaks my heart to see so many lives wasted and the ensuing vicious cycle. When will it end? Who will mentor the fatherless? Who will get the fathers out of prison? Who will stop the little teen girls having children? Its difficult for an ex convict to get a job in America, especially if they are men of colour. This simply exacerbates the vicious cycle. If you can’t get a job, the likelihood is that you’d have to live a life of crime to survive. Where is the solution? Where does it end? O God, help us all. Please leave a comment below. Yes, you can share, share, share. This story was culled from the Redemption Project (google it) of Mr Van Jones. It is a true story and all names are real, details of events are real. We are sad to report that Mr Donald Lacy passed away in May of 2020. older blogs are found below the comments section https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/say-his-name monthly 0.5 2022-08-17 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1601571088874-6XNXOJ7VBBDJGGJMWP2G/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Say His Name Usually, during a procedure, the doctors would wear headlights to help illuminate the target area. These lights were worn across the forehead with the torch protruding. The surgeon beside Bolaji kept on “accidentally” thumping him hard with this equipment. In one instance, the impact sent his glasses flying off his face. Fortunately, the anaesthesiologist in the room caught them mid-air. There was no apology nor acknowledgement for all the accidents. When he eventually enquired why, he was told that “the father of the house takes the best seat and holds the remote control.” At the end of the procedure, the staff surgeon gave him seven reasons why he would never pass the Royal College Exam. His experience is not unique. It is the sad reality of most black and minority medical students/resident doctors in that part of Canada. The only difference with Bolaji and his wife (a Paediatric Doctor) was that they persevered to the end. They completed their trainings and became fellows of the Royal College of Medicine. Despite all his achievements, he is still unable to get a job with the university of his training. He is a proud owner of three patents, several published research papers, a Clinical Researcher, an Inventor with Brisk Innovations and a Hepatobiliary and Advanced General Surgeon. With the George Floyd incidence in America, he finally got a response to his letter in June 2020. Dr Bolaji Obatan, MD, PhD, FRCSC, Member of the AHNS. Thank you for taking the time to read my blog. Leave your reaction in the comments section below. Older stories can be found at the very bottom. Yes, you can share, share and share ✔ https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1601570464011-65PPWOZN9QO82AGU2ACS/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Say His Name In the midst of this, another intrigue was secretly being plotted. He was specially handpicked to do a rotation. He would be the first General Surgery Resident made to do a General Internal Medicine rotation. This was completely unnecessary and a deliberate waste of his time. His chosen line of speciality was surgery and his residency was based on surgery. There was absolutely no need to have made him do this rotation in the field of Internal Medicine. It had been suggested that his knowledge of medicine was poor. The Programme Director therefore repeatedly wrote letters to the various “rotations” urging them to fail him. He complained that Bolaji’s standard of English was not adequate. To everyone’s amazement he passed with flying colours. The congratulatory message he got from the programme director was “we expected Regina to be your grave and I’m surprised you passed. It seems Regina was too easy. It will have to be somewhere else next time.” (Regina was the town he did the rotation). By the end of his second year in residency, he was advised to quit because he was too smart for Surgery. I personally find it rather bizarre that he was considered too smart for surgery but too dull for medicine! Why would a person be penalised for being too smart? Bolaji was to later report that it had been decided that he would not be allowed to pass no matter how hard he worked. A staff member told him about their intent to ensure that he failed and if they didn’t succeed at that, then they would make sure he never got a job. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1601570859785-Q7FPGGNQZMSGGIH8WUY7/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Say His Name It was about this time that Bolaji lost his mother. None of his colleagues offered any condolences nor commiserated with him. There were no cards nor flowers sent. The only people that sympathised with him were the nurses in the surgery ward. Due to the immense pressure he was under, his blood pressure developed into an intracranial bleed (in the brain). His team saw it as an opportunity to get rid of him. The Programme Director and his Neurologist wrote a damning letter to the School Board about his condition suggesting his incapacity. Dr Bolaji didn’t know about the letter. He didn’t know about the scheming going on in the background to destroy his career. This only came to light much later after Dr Alperton withdrew the letter from circulation. This was one of the few people that ever showed him any kindness. It was the singular reason he was able to complete his residency. Incredibly, year four appeared to start on a brighter note. For the first time he was assigned a female Surgical Oncologist. Bolaji dared to hope! Maybe it would be fourth time lucky. Unfortunately, it was not to be. Dr Lisa Pepper turned out to be just like the others, living up to her name. She basically ignored him completely during her training period with him. There were never any pleasantries, with good mornings going unanswered. Asking questions relating to his training only got him into trouble. Studying hard became his coping mechanism. There was no room for error. He needed to prove himself and not give anyone the chance to “get” him. Dr Bolaji also talked about an experience that would forever be etched on his mind. An experience that can only be termed as physical abuse. It happened in an operating theatre during an anterior resection procedure (an abdominal operation). It was such a bizarre incident that had left Bolaji confused. He was “accidentally” struck repeatedly by his colleague with a headlight during the operation. This scenario might need a little bit of explaining. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1601570288032-KQTFAI7DI2H6TKTT92BH/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Say His Name https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/girls-in-rivers monthly 0.5 2022-08-23 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1600195899953-EI249PR1ZW90XN6F4AST/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Girls in Rivers Like Shafilea, Saba was also thrown into the river after being shot in the head and arm. Her uncle fortunately had narrowly missed the mark because she had jerked her head. She was able to struggle out of the river, crawling towards the glimmering lights in the distance. Saba was a bloody mess with half her face destroyed by the bullet. Some good Samaritans took her to the nearest hospital where she was given the help she needed. The Police were notified and the perpetrators promptly arrested. Saba eventually began to heal and was reunited with her in-laws. Although her father and uncle had been apprehended, the judicial system was not in her favour. One of two things could happen. He could be sentenced to five years in prison for attempted murder and upon his release, finally succeed in killing her or she could “forgive” him and probably save her life. Honour killings are generally not treated as murders in Pakistan as the law permits the relatives of victims to “forgive” the accused. The killers would then be acquitted. Saba wanted to live and so decided to “forgive” her father and uncle in court. Her in-laws and the elders of the community had advised her to choose the path of forgiveness. She was unsure of what the future held and was constantly in fear for her life. Although forgiven and released from Jail, her father believed his action had restored some measure of honour to the family. There was a new found respect because his community had seen his ruthless commitment to upholding the family honour. The rest of his daughters were also getting marriage proposals from respectable young men around. He was comforted because the family honour was still “intact”. In conclusion, Saba quietly said “they were all still unforgiven”. She still had not forgotten all the trauma they had put her through. One of her few comforts was that she was expecting her first baby and that she had made peace with her mother. The concept of Honour Killing does not make sense to me. Is life so cheap? Is the life of a female child so cheap? Can a man not find his worth and honour in himself rather than in the performance of his female children? I’m still looking for answers. This is a true story. It was presented as a documentary in 2015 by Sharmeen Obaid Chinoy. It is entitled “A Girl in the River”- The Power of Forgiveness. Please leave a comment below about what you think and you can read older blogs below the comments section. Yes, you can share!!!! https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1600195567627-TT3FNJGACNJ9HB0WQO7A/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Girls in Rivers In the UK, Shafilea Iftikhar of Pakistani origin, aged 17 was also murdered in an honour killing. Her family lived in Warrington, Cheshire and Shafilea was accused of being too “westernised”. She had been born in the UK, gone to school in the UK, lived all her life in UK and was still accused of being too “westernised”. She dressed and behaved like an average teenager in England. On a family holiday to Pakistan in 2003, she had refused an arranged marriage with a suitor, rather preferring to drink a bottle of bleach in a suicide attempt. On their return, her father explained to the doctors that she had mistaken it for a bottle of orange juice. This incident caused very grievous damage to her throat. Shafilea eventually disappeared on September the 11th 2003 when her teachers reported her missing from school. She has never been seen ever since. Her badly decomposed dismembered body was later found in the River Kent Her parents were arrested for it. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1600195260709-GU68J4BDXB4TBVO0VW7V/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Girls in Rivers https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/mind-your-language monthly 0.5 2023-07-23 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1599036543734-TOIUINT4RVHKN3TGGAXK/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Mind Your Language I’ve been blessed to have lived in the UK since 2006. I remember my first trip to the Estate Agents while house hunting. I walked in and asked to speak with Bevan. I pronounced his name as Bee-van as it was my first time coming across that name. I was received and treated very politely for the whole two weeks I dealt with them. No one corrected me. Bee-van answered whenever I called his name until I signed on the dotted line. They must have been laughing their heads off. My English teacher had taught me that BE was pronounced as Bee. How was I to know that Bevan wasn’t Beevan? The English can be exceptionally polite to a fault. I made a similar mistake not too long ago with the name Katriona. It’s funny how we sometimes think we know something and we really don’t. I started calling the poor lady KATRYONA instead of KATRINA. Thank God I had the good sense to ask and to be corrected. Moral of the story, when in doubt, ask. Everyday I seem to be learning something new. When I signed up to do a Masters in the UK about ten years ago, we the International Students had to have some extra classes to prepare us for life in the UK. We were taught that as a rule, the English were never direct in their speech. Rather than give a direct command, they would prefer to suggest or to request politely. For example, they would never say things like “close the door”, “Take a break”, “stand up”, it would be “would you like to close the door?”, “Would you like to take a break?”, “would you like to stand up?”. Those lessons were priceless as it showed me our very brusque Nigerian nature. We are a naturally intense people and are hardly ever gentle or quiet. We don’t suggest things, we give clear concise orders, preferably in a loud voice. “Give me the bag”, “Shut the door”, “Stand up”, “Keep quiet”, etc. I remember being on a train one evening and a group of girls walked into my carriage. One of them needed the toilet and casually asked one of her friends “would you like to hold my bag please?”. Wow, it absolutely blew my mind. Such courtesy! If it was me, I would have just said “take, I’m coming” and dropped the bag with my friend. Another difference I have observed is that we Africans have a lot of brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers that are not directly related to us. Our African vocabulary doesn’t have certain familial words like nieces, nephews, great aunt, cousins, second cousins, step sisters etc. Everyone is simply a brother, a sister, a mother or a father. It sometimes confuses our white folks because everyone seems to be related somehow. I remember one of the teachers in my former school who had a little black girl calling her aunty. For us, its almost a taboo for a child to call an adult by their first name. You show respect by saying aunty or uncle. I sometimes appreciate the difficulty African parents have in raising their children in the West, trying to blend two almost opposing cultures. To succeed, it has to be a “give and take” approach mixed with a lot of patience. They say, East is East, and West is West and ne’er the twain shall meet. Is it true? Thank you for reading my blog. Please join the conversation below and let us know what you think. Also click for older blogs at the very bottom. Yes, subscribe and share. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1598986183854-YTSA4NK6TSSPY6ASB5J8/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Mind Your Language From an early age I however observed that my mum’s pronunciations seemed to be different. She didn’t have a problem with her “TH” sounds. She explained to me that her Missionary teachers from England had insisted on their making the correct TH sounds. She would mimic her teacher with words like, thhhrroooough, thhhhink, thhhhumb, always emphasising on the TH sounds. I was also fortunate to have had Missionary teachers who taught us Reading in secondary school. For the first time, we not only learnt about phonics but also delved into the exciting world of books. We had to do weekly book reports and have weekly vocabulary tests. We also got introduced to Idiomatic Expressions, with their twists and turns. Some of my favourite idioms were “between a rock and a hard place”, “daylight robbery” and “a storm in a teacup”. Growing up, I never knew that non-Africans could sometimes struggle with understanding our accents. I didn’t even know we sounded different (l laugh as I write this). To be fair on them, I must confess that I sometimes also struggle with understanding various accents like the English, the American, the Scottish, the Irish, the Chinese, the Indian, the East African etc. My favourite genre of English would perhaps be the one spoken in Nigeria. We have adopted it, confused it slightly and made it our own. We are understood by very few and very far between. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1598986684681-L8VEJWYNEFZ2EHVDXMVB/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Mind Your Language For some of us, we have realised down the line our dilemma of the TH phonetic sound. Some people try to rectify the problem by deliberately watching out for the TH in words and attempting to pronounce it properly. Some would however end up complicating things further by placing a TH where there is none. I remember listening in amazement to a politician give his “Thank you” speech. He said he didn’t want to “thake tins” for granted (take things). Words like TRUTH become THRUT, Wheat becomes Weath, a water tank becomes a water thank. I absolutely doff my hat to my brothers and sisters who try to correct their TH anomaly and I’m rooting for all of us. Practice will surely make all things perfect one day, so help us God. Other sounds we might struggle with are the CH versus SH sounds. I remember a little girl in my class back in Nigeria who would always say SHALK instead of CHALK. I tried and tried to correct her but couldn’t. She would call a WATCH a WASH, MATCHES would be MASHES. It wasn’t that she couldn’t say the SH sound, its just that something in her brain had to change it to a CH for it to make sense. Maybe the fault could be traced to her local language, I still don’t know. The reality is that a chartered accountant would be called a shattered accountant. Its hard not to laugh sometimes. Apart from our challenges with pronunciations, so much is also lost in translation. English being a second language for a lot of us Africans, we often process information mentally in our local languages and then translate directly into English. Some of these translations can be almost horrifying or at best, rude. For example in my country, it is normal to ask a person in the morning, “how was your night?” Meaning, “Did you sleep well?” This simple phrase can be misunderstood and termed quite rude in certain quarters as it has its implied meanings. Another direct translation is “how is your body?” Meaning “how are you feeling today”? In my local African language, when a person is unwell, you show concern by asking “how is your body?”. I’ve been told its not an appropriate question to ask a lady. Another gaff is when we say “we have something on fire”. It simply means “I’m cooking something”. I’ve once told a tradesman that I had something on fire and he looked at me funny. It never crossed my mind that it could have meant something was actually ablaze on fire. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/the-tragedy-of-a-people monthly 0.5 2020-11-09 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1597079876854-T44BW6U319ZHMEPQABHU/image-asset.jpeg Blog - The Tragedy of a Nation https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1597080037467-K42ID0B08OT80P42W6FY/image-asset.jpeg Blog - The Tragedy of a Nation In all the confusion, Hajjo was unable to hold on to her two boys, more so with the little girl on her back. They eventually got separated as they ran for their lives. She could only but pray for God’s protection over them all. After what seemed like forever, she got to a river bank. The only option was to cross as there was no way of going back to where they were coming from. It was almost a literal story of being between the devil and the deep blue sea. She stepped into the river and started walking gingerly across. It was getting deeper by the minute and she could feel her baby clutching her in fear. The water got neck deep but there was nothing she could do but to keep on walking. The pull of the flow was so strong that she lost her footing and went down, gulping some silty water. She was so panic stricken, was this the end! Could she still make it across with the baby? She managed to come up for air but was till unsteady on her feet. Once again, she got swept under as the water covered her and dragged her further down the river. Miraculously, she began to feel the bottom of the river as she struggled to the bank. She had made it across, she was still alive. Suddenly Hajjo realised her back was empty. The little girl was gone. She also realised that she was naked, the current having pulled off her wrappers. She broke down hysterically crying and shouting for her baby. Rahila!!! Rahila!! She ran beside the bank trying to see if she could catch a glimpse of her little girl. She searched for hours until the break of dawn. She refused to believe that she had let her baby drown. What kind of a mother was she? Had she also lost her boys? Hajjo was inconsolable. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1597080191665-TRNG10I1492R4V81R1CD/image-asset.jpeg Blog - The Tragedy of a Nation She continued walking in a blur until she got to the next village. She knocked on the first door she came to and explained what had happened to her. They gave her clothes and comforted her as best as they could. The next day, all the survivors were taken to the Internally Displaced Peoples camp (IDP) in Zonkwa. Hajjo was reconciled with her two sons but her daughter still hasn’t been found as at today, 15th of August 2020. This is the sad reality of what has been going on in the killing fields of Nigeria for the past two decades. Many have lost their lives and are still losing their lives daily. The Middle Belt has been under a siege by the Boko Haram and other Islamic terrorist groups. The head of the Boko Haram sect boldly said in one of his videos that they would wipe out Christianity in Nigeria and all forms of unacceptable Islam. The newest kid on the block however is the Fulani Herdsmen. They graze their cattle lazily with AK47s casually flung over their shoulders. They are very organised, widespread and systematic in their attacks. They receive supplies via helicopters at all hours. Found in clusters planted all over the middle belt, they plunder and kill Christians in the most dehumanising of ways. Pregnant women and children are sometimes not spared. Victims are given the choice of either renouncing their faith or paying with their lives. Most times than not, these defenceless people are executed before their family members. There is the story of a grand mother who was made to witness the killing of her son, his wife and the grand children. She was deliberately left as the lone survivor. Is this a genocide? Yes it is. The reason is because there is an on going intentional destruction of a targeted group. The dominant narrative however is that this is a “farmer versus herders clash” or its a problem of “land disputes”. Some even allude it to climate change and the desertification of the country. Gathered data however suggests otherwise. There seems to be a concerted effort to wipe out the Christians within the Middle Belt States of Nigeria ( i.e Plateau, Kaduna, Benue, Taraba, Adamawa etc). Ofcourse, the goverment will always condemn this action in no uncertain terms but that’s where it would always end. In it all, no body has ever been brought to book. No one has been arrested nor charged. On the contrary however, any community that attempted to defend itself with weapons was promptly apprehended and arms swiftly seized. Where do we go from here? What can be done? for more information, google Christian Persecution in Nigeria, the Killing Fields of Nigeria, ICON Genocide Report https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/happily-never-after monthly 0.5 2022-05-08 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1596217747978-YP7DB4WJ3IOH3HUTX3TJ/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Happily Never After He would normally smoke about a 100 cigarettes a day, right down to the filter. He was terribly hooked on nicotine and unable to quit. One day, he went to the shop to pick up some supplies for the new baby. The lady heard him coughing and asked if he was a smoker. He said yes. She asked him if he wanted his child to be raised in another man’s house because her friend had passed away the week before from a cough that sounded just like his. “If you want to live young man, stop smoking.” For the first time, Charles became worried. He certainly didn’t want Lantay nor his children in another man’s house. He decided to smoke one last cigarette as he drove home that afternoon. Strangely, his car lighter wouldn’t work and he couldn’t get any roadside shops to sell him a box of matches. It was so bizarre because they had all sold out. When he got home, he told Lantay what had happened and broke the cigarette into two. He said he had decided to stop smoking but would only be able to sustain it with the help of God. He was tired and frustrated with his life and knew he needed help. He decided to go to a Church. The next Sunday, 20th September 1991, he went to Church and accepted Jesus as his Saviour. He became a born-again Christian and his life was totally transformed. He was able to give up smoking with no cravings nor withdrawal symptoms. The change was so phenomenal that Lantay wanted the same experience for herself. She went back to Church the next Sunday and gave her life to Christ too. It was an awesome season in their lives. Lantay snapped back into the present. It was now 7pm and there was still no news about Charles . Aunty Dee (her boss) and the husband (Dr Alade) decided it would be needful to go looking for him. They went first to the main Abuja Police Station where they were informed about a multi car accident that had occurred that afternoon. It turned out that Charles car had been involved. Dr Alade remembered stopping to assist at an accident scene but hadn’t seen Charles nor his car. He never quite forgave himself for that. Lantay was given Charles handset and other personal items retrieved from the car. They were all bloody. She could see the spider web cracks where his head had shattered the wind shield. It felt unreal, like watching a movie. She was so relieved she had Aunty Dee and her husband with her. They began the rounds of the hospitals looking for Charles. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1596217651617-4WNMYCH19I3HBD8R3WM8/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Happily Never After The beautiful holiday ended and everyone went back home. As the weeks went by, Lantay found herself getting increasingly sick. She didn’t know she was in the first trimester of her pregnancy. Dreading to tell her parents, the pregnancy became threatened. Her dad’s dream of her becoming a doctor was being dashed before his very eyes. He just couldn’t forgive Charles for doing this to his daughter. Charles equally didn’t want to lose Lantay and so forged a plan to get married secretly in court. They had two witnesses, her sister Pauline and his brother. It certainly didn’t do him any favours with “Daddy Paul”, Lantay’s father. It was a beautiful marriage, blessed with four children. Charles was a fantastic husband and father, so gentle in everything. Lantay would often joke that the children probably didn’t even like her, they preferred their dad. They definitely would rather have his cooking, even his hot chocolate tasted better. Maybe it was because she was the disciplinarian. It was a perfect compliment of their different traits. They were happy and lacked nothing. Her only nagging worry at the early stages of marriage was his smoking and the ensuing cough that became very persistent. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1596218158244-N69FD0QV8UG1L9VSOOW3/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Happily Never After Lantay handled her grief in a very unusual way. She never cried in public, she just went frozen. She lost all the weight that she didn’t have. There were so many mixed reactions from people to her stoic carriage. One of her friends visited and confronted her saying, “Lantay, I hear you are not crying. You must cry. I have to make you cry. This is totally unnatural.” The lady’s husband was aghast as he tried to hush his wife. Her comments hurt so deeply and it would take a long while for Lantay to get over it. Charles funeral was fixed for a day after her birthday. Unbelievably, two well meaning friends brought cakes to celebrate with her. “Are you guys for real? You want me to celebrate my birthday? There must be something wrong with you,” she told them. Although she was totally surrounded by people, she was still so lonely. For the funeral, Lantay didn’t want to wear black and so chose a cheery pink dress. “Noooooo,” everyone screamed. “They will think you killed your husband”, a very common accusation against widows in Africa. “African men never die, they are always killed by their wives”, that’s the myth. Some cultures require the women to drink from the water used to wash the dead body to prove they didn’t murder their husband. Others say the woman has to spend one night alone with the corpse to prove their innocence. “They can think exactly what they want”, Lantay retorted. “He is my husband.” They eventually reached a compromise and gave her a navy blue skirt suit. An aunty told her on the day of the funeral, “Don’t worry, you are young and still very beautiful. You need to cry and get over it so that you can marry again quickly.” That flippant remark cut deep into Lantay. It sounded so mean and heartless. Why would anyone think that she would want to marry again. She was literally looking down at her husband’s casket before her. It seemed like no one understood the pain she was going through simply because she wasn’t crying openly. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The coffin was lowered into the ground and it was time to cover it with dirt. That was one of the hardest moments. It made Charles departure real. He was being left alone in a box, claustrophobic and alone in the ground. They would all walk away and leave him there. As she walked to the car, the tears started flowing down uncontrollably. She was overcome by her emotions and by her racking sobs. She remained like that for the rest of the day. It caused no little stir amongst the family members to see her finally cry. “Oh Please get her some food. What would you like Lantay.” All she wanted was ice cream. A cousin tried to encourage her by singing Andrae Couches’ “He’ll do it Again”. “Hmmm, do what again?” Lantay contemplated. “Kill him again?” It only brought more tears. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1596218317376-KHYFSPWKICI1WP4VKJGP/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Happily Never After She didn’t want to hear anything about “marrying again”. As far as she was concerned, she was still married. Others would say things like “don’t cry, he is in a better place.” No, the best place to be was with them here on earth. Some of the things people said to her were almost offensive. She would have preferred if they had just sat with her quietly and not forced a conversation. Through her journey of widowhood, she had to learn so many new skills. She had to learn to be the father and the mother at the same time. Charles had been an extrovert and she, the introvert. All the children turned out to be like their dad. She had to also learn to be more gentle and tolerating like their dad. One of the greatest challenges was in the area of finances because he had been the sole bread winner. Although money became tight, all their needs were however always met. For example, when they needed a house to live in, her friend Kaygo and the husband gave them their furnished house to live in for eight long years rent free. It was so typical of Gods’ promises in the Bible for widows in Is. 54:4-5. He says He is the husband of the widow; https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1596217426125-25GN0WIZDN0MW96TDOUQ/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Happily Never After She remembered how they had met thirteen years earlier. It was during a girls’ holiday she had taken with her two cousins to the city of Lagos, Jans and Leanna Iftan. They had all been introduced to Charles at a party and he wouldn’t leave her side after that. “What’s your name?” he had asked. “Lantay.” “Lantay who?” “Lantay it doesn’t matter.” “Aren’t you proud of your dad?” he asked. “I am, but I’m not sure why it matters here.” she replied. They had spent the summer wining, dining and partying, mostly on Charles’ account. It had been so refreshing being away from home with her two favourite girls. Charles wasn’t happy with the group dates. He so desperately wanted time alone with Lantay. The following year, they were back in Lagos again. This time, they were able to shake everyone off to go on a proper date. He had such beautiful eyes, she noticed, and a captivating voice. She also observed that they had very similar interests. He loved the Art, just as she did. They had spent the day at the Lagos Art Gallery watching some exhibitions. They also went to the museum and saw the 1976 car where the Head of State had been assassinated. It was fascinating. Time flew so quickly and also stood still at the same time. Those private outings were to repeat themselves over the next few weeks. One night, as he was driving her home he simply asked, “Lantay will you marry me?” Her heart literally stopped beating as she wasn’t even planning on ever getting married. She was astounded to hear someone that sounded like her answer, “yes I will.” They almost had an accident as Charles turned sharply to look at her. She got her first kiss that day. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1596218042787-6EQSAOWL8WOXN5Z63ONQ/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Happily Never After Eventually they found him at the National Hospital, Abuja. He was in the Intensive Care Unit, bare chested, suction pads all over his body and strapped to the bed.He looked a mess. His head was about three times the normal size, looking like a rotten potato. His features were totally unrecognisable. His tongue was blue and hanging out of the side of his mouth. It was not a pretty sight to behold. Lantay started screaming at him to get up, get up, get up. No, he couldn’t do this to her. “Who will make the children’s food? I’m not even sure they like me. I can’t even make their hot chocolate right.” She was creating such a raucous that the matron asked her to either shut up or to get out in the sternest of tones. The hospital nurses were very cold and unfriendly, without empathy to the hurting family. Charles was in a coma for exactly 21 days before he was finally released. It was a trying 21 days. Lantay cried herself to sleep every night. Some frightening tubes were run through his throat partly for oxygen and partly for his feeding. He was alive but not talking. His eyes swollen and permanently shut. Lantay found a way to “discuss” with him. She would tell him how much she loved him and how her day had been. She told him everyone was missing him especially the children. He had to hurry up and open his eyes so she could bring them to see him. She would ask him questions and a tight squeeze of his eyelids would mean a yes. She once asked, “are the streets in heaven really made of gold?” He squeezed his eyelids. “Wow, you’ve seen them?” Another squeeze. “I can’t wait for you to be well enough so we can tell your story in Church.” No squeeze. She decided not to let the children see their father in that state so as not to traumatise them. She cried every night in secret because she couldn’t bear the thought of losing her best friend. Thank goodness the doctors were so encouraging. The Church family were also great at keeping her company. With four little children under twelve, they ensured she was never left alone. On this particular day, it was a very full house with all her cousins and siblings visiting. Lantay was excited. What she didn’t know was that her husband had passed away during the night peacefully and nobody had been able to break the news to her. There was now the risk of a guest coming in and blurting it out unknowingly. How do you tell a wife that her husband was dead? What words do you use to make it softer? The Pastor found himself between the rock and a hard place anchored with that responsibility. He eventually took her into the kitchen to break the news to her with his wife present. Her knees buckled as she started screaming hysterically. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/all-in-the-book monthly 0.5 2020-11-09 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1594836992834-DM9D5DB8WM5PO1S53NVY/image-asset.jpeg Blog - All in the Book I remember some of the biographies I read while growing up. One of them was the story of Amy Carmichael. She was a missionary to India who got ill and went through so much. Her daily life was in constant pain but she learnt to live in fellowship with her maker. She carried such a presence, even on her sick bed. It amazes me further when I see a scripture like James 1: 2-3 which says “Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy, for you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow… and you will be perfect and complete needing nothing” Great joy?? I don’t think “great joy” is the normal first reaction when things are falling apart. I have never seen a man jumping for joy because he lost his job or because his child passed away. We must allow our trials to shape us into better people. Sometimes trials show us the kind of people we are. It can show us how short tempered and irritable we can be. Trials can also teach us endurance and can test our commitment to the things we believe. Would we rather endure hardship than compromise? Would we be prepared to be the laughing stock in the office because we still believe purity must be upheld in a relationship? In conclusion, we might never really understand why “bad” things happen to good people. My advice would be for us to trust and believe that God has got our backs. One thing I know is that He will never leave us nor forsake us. In the darkest of hours, He would be there holding our hands and giving us hope. What is the worst thing that can happen to a man? Probably death? For the born again Christian, even in death we would still be winners. We know of a certainty where we would be going because nothing can ever separate us from the love of God. Jesus is still the only way. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1594836659924-6DMLM7QSZ8FCFJAH315Q/image-asset.jpeg Blog - All in the Book It reminds me of my friend in Australia who was in a situation that I considered almost unfathomable. I just don’t know how she was able to cope. A tall beautiful lady, who got married to her 6’3’’ sweetheart. He had a budding career in IT and they were both doing so well financially. Several years down the line and with three children, he got ill with a debilitating disease. My friend was left as the sole provider and as his sole carer. In the midst of this, she lost her well paid job and their house went into foreclosure. As if things couldn’t get any worse, his eye sight gradually deteriorated and so did his mobility. He was eventually confined to a wheelchair. Please, am I missing something? What good can there be in this situation. I always wondered how he felt as a man with an ego, as a husband and as a father? Did he ever resent God? Was he angry with life? There are some situations that only the grace of God can see a man through. It is like the story of Job in the Bible who lost everything he ever owned, his children, his wealth and eventually his health. In those trying times, he chose to still love God. It is true that a man’s life does not consist of the things he owns but rather on the substance of who he is. I am so glad my friend and her family found the essence of their life. It was firmly rooted in their faith in the Lord Jesus. Through it all, they learnt what love truly meant. They learnt to appreciate each other and the things they had sometimes taken for granted. They learnt to rely on God fully and that so many other things did not really matter. They learnt sacrifice and they built enduring “muscle”. The truth is, life will always happen. A lot of times we don’t get any advance warning about what the future might hold for us. It just suddenly drops in our laps. We can’t tell when a spouse will pack up and leave. We can’t predict when an illness will take a turn for the worse. Sometimes the pressure could get so bad that we feel we can’t take it anymore. The secret is taking it a day at a time. We must receive grace for each day, one day at a time. If we think ahead too much, we might lose hope entirely. There is hope in knowing God in a personal way. I have however realised that not everybody has had that experience yet. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1594836795288-8TM1BE7K21MW6O9SSDGD/image-asset.jpeg Blog - All in the Book https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/stranger-in-a-strange-land monthly 0.5 2022-08-23 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1593348796197-PGQ54XQZBYNUF0848HFK/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Stranger in a Strange Land https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1593349220021-KWQ05BVK9HNX0QWL92Z4/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Stranger in a Strange Land https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1593347627999-CDUSULMANDZKOV0UR4LV/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Stranger in a Strange Land https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1593347802724-JJ9PZCBCFE6UE7ZW1JZ3/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Stranger in a Strange Land https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1593348006437-53AD6PP1Z4FEIG9WPRAK/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Stranger in a Strange Land https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1593348152641-F2LJPUUI6XF3DDZ7H2CI/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Stranger in a Strange Land https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/needing-light monthly 0.5 2025-07-03 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1592246677755-NAI28QATTPJ27COSZAE5/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Needing Light https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1592247212800-S4RRZI621Z3TB4B02YFF/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Needing Light https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1592247703857-P8DYMGL14G44XIDA7026/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Needing Light Fear is a terrible task master. I rejoice with everyone who has never been plagued by it. It can be completely irrational and senseless. For some like me, it might not be the fear of darkness or of flying. It could be the fear of failure or of not meeting up with peoples’ expectations. The principle to combat fear remains largely the same. Fear steals our peace, steals our joy, steals our equilibrium. It never ever solves the problem, only creates an illusion. The solution is a renewing of the mind. People can be kept hostage by what they have wrongly believed. Don’t believe a wrong narrative. Don’t allow it to play and replay in your head. Sing a new song. Let the light shine and dispel the darkness of your mind. Search out the Bible. THANK YOU FOR TAKING THE TIME TO READ THIS BLOG. KINDLY LEAVE A COMMENT BELOW. CLICK ON THE RIGHT ARROW AT THE BOTTOM FOR PAST BLOGS. REMEMBER TO SHARE……. :) https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1592246072746-YK6Q1WXO7CQ4EN6JRFDR/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Needing Light https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1592246348419-BQZ8RFEBYBUZLHW1FS5V/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Needing Light https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1592247079433-XW4YJ03S09LHW2QUN98V/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Needing Light https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1592246952142-PT9139KB0R9RYRED6IXF/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Needing Light https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/forgiveness-or-retribution monthly 0.5 2020-11-09 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1591376105830-Z1RYV95255JMKKP5XWWV/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Forgiveness and Retribution https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1591374876316-9HENQHWSPO8DZL8ODNYB/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Forgiveness and Retribution https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1591376433644-ZDQUECOB0H778ZRT3192/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Forgiveness and Retribution https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1591374566719-URLYWXYXKM3YD63GPUB2/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Forgiveness and Retribution https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1591375884870-7HNIVRSS4X47X61JMSMK/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Forgiveness and Retribution https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1591376773662-YCUXYK85EH9YY6A4H75L/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Forgiveness and Retribution https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1591375387233-8PEFO4GDVPQF2N1I3DK6/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Forgiveness and Retribution For the first time in his life, Andy met someone (Gloria) who gave him unconditional love. Someone who saw beyond his incarceration for the worst type of crime; murdering a child. He had murdered both Gloria’s daughter and granddaughter. In his own words he said “by all rights she should have hated me but she didn’t. Through the journey we took, she taught me what love was and what it wasn’t”. Andy couldn’t love people because he hadn’t known what love was. You can’t give what you don’t have. How could this mother forgive the vicious murderer of her daughter and granddaughter? Where did she get the strength to rise above the pain and hurt? How was she able to relate to Andy? Life experiences can be regarded as a normal sculpting process. These could either “break” or “make” a man. We are all moulded by the experiences we go through in life. This is a key realisation one must come to in order to accommodate other people’s weaknesses and short comings. It is also a true key to forgiveness. Gloria didn’t see Andy merely as the murderer he was. She saw him as the victim of his upbringing. She saw a damaged man that needed fixing. She saw a man who needed re-education from all the poison that had been embedded in his system. She also knew the basic tool to use was love. No one can resist genuine love. Love is not just an emotional feeling. It is something you choose to do. It can be costly and painful. Sometimes love takes time to be received and reciprocated. One thing is however sure, love can crack the hardest of hearts when applied consistently and truly. We all want to be loved. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/my-life-as-a-gardener monthly 0.5 2020-11-09 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1590140610098-ES9DJ2OI2V7319G8T70M/image-asset.jpeg Blog - The Gardener https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1590140486913-LHKANQU21D785C8YXV3S/image-asset.jpeg Blog - The Gardener https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1590140741233-28G474FIV5NH59YGFI8U/image-asset.jpeg Blog - The Gardener https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/in-a-lockdown monthly 0.5 2020-11-09 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1590055822026-8W3G13DZSH9B7DSJHBE0/image-asset.jpeg Blog - In a Lockdown https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1590055675872-DS0SK6VC9PGXDD3BC3CP/image-asset.jpeg Blog - In a Lockdown https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1590054821888-YQWPTAZB1HX0CM5S4FWO/image-asset.jpeg Blog - In a Lockdown https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1590055061049-3QAJZ79JHGH00FQJR8EM/image-asset.jpeg Blog - In a Lockdown Living in a lockdown has been quite an experience. It has been sort of like an advanced level of being “empty nesters”. We have become quite accustomed to living together 24:7 in our confined space. It started about two years ago when our two boys left home and got places of their own. It seemed we just woke up one day and found the two of us alone in an empty house. Their sister was mostly away in her university. Our mantra, thanks to my husband, became “we are in this together”. For me it meant “children are all gone, no one to help with the chores, there is a lot of work to do, meals need to be prepared, bathrooms have to be cleaned, floors must be hoovered, laundry must be done, beds have to be made daily, dishes to be put away, dustbins to be emptied, fridges to be cleaned, no children to assist, we are in this together”. As the days have gone by, I realise “we are in this together” could mean different things to different people. For my husband, it is “we are in this together, I might help with the dishes and the dustbins”. https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/the-journey-of-life monthly 0.5 2022-10-05 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1589385375473-C2T5VMMVJDGUDMOIJB94/image-asset.jpeg Blog - The Journey of Life https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1589385540319-UZ9H465TGSNZ6S4LRHGP/image-asset.jpeg Blog - The Journey of Life https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/inspired-by-a-picture monthly 0.5 2020-11-09 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1589201966497-9RUVBYH6GXB8LP7FFCDF/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Inspired by a Picture Her story however didn’t end happily ever after. One Saturday, on the way back from her sister’s wedding Tracey had a ghastly car accident. A truck ran into her Mini crushing all the passengers but the driver. She lost her children in one day. Tom also asked for a divorce shortly after and married his long term girlfriend. Tracey was inconsolable. She blamed herself for everything, for the accident, for her children’s illness, for the cold weather in Michigan and even for the breakdown of her marriage. Maybe if she had worn more makeup, maybe if she had gone to the hairdressers more often, maybe if she hadn’t gone to her sister’s wedding, maybe if she had remained in America, maybe if she hadn’t married Tom. She remembered her sacrifices for her marriage, the sleepless nights nursing the children back to health. She watched them endure so much pain alone and couldn’t help them. She remembered trips to the hospital with all three children, with no adult to talk with. Where did she go wrong? People are hurting all over. The beautiful façade can be just that, a façade. Marriages are falling apart. There is bereavement, terminal illness, drug addiction, childlessness in marriage (meanwhile silly teenagers choose to have abortions), job losses, debt, unfairness at work etc. In life, we will always have regrets. We look back and see things we could have done differently. Times we should have kept silent but we spoke, when we should have just walked away but we instead decided to “show of our strength”. Walking away is for the weak, right? Wrong. Sometimes it takes more strength to walk away than to stay and give them a well deserved piece of our mind. Let’s not be deceived by the perfect picture everyone wants us see. Although Tracey was tormented with regrets, no one would have seen it in the family photos they had taken. They all looked absolutely amazing. No one could have guessed what lay behind the smiles and beautiful clothes. It’s just a reminder that things might not always be as they seem. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1589202240591-2CLH62HINJ5EFN1V3REL/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Inspired by a Picture https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1589201869482-CD8P7NUYUZ6ELPMQVE7P/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Inspired by a Picture https://www.lifedoeshappen.co.uk/blog/against-all-odds monthly 0.5 2023-10-13 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1588879221119-O6QKTAMQ0BQQZWJZ5N80/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Against all Odds https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1588878109498-UQIPI086RVIF5XVV92O9/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Against all Odds https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1588877866965-E1MSQOY5XEQ654325115/image-asset.jpeg Blog - Against all Odds https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5eaff7492599067619fae68d/1588879663430-GULSY558K7L6AT8BOG9N/image-asset.jpeg Blog - 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