00:05am 9/12/12

It is officially 15 years since I lost my father. I say lost like he was a puppy that I mistakenly let off the leash in a crowded market but you get the general idea. Some days I'm almost 100% sure I'll never get over it. Other days not so much. As has become tradition I shall post some things on my other blog here and maybe also my Tumblr here about Daddy. I hope you all enjoy. 

Writer's block; Happiness; Father; Rant.

I’ve been going through a bit of a blank when it comes to writing recently. My work has direct and major links to my emotions and right now I’m kind of falling apart inside.

I’ve been contemplating writing this mini “expose” (for want of a better word) for a while now and I still don’t know how I’m going to approach it. So pardon my lack of coherence and the metaphorical tear stains all over the page. 

I know I sabotage myself a lot. The thoughts that go through my mind kill me slowly like hired hit-men and no one around me seems to notice half the time. They aren’t remotely silent thoughts, so I am often baffled and frankly amused that no one ever sees my eyes screaming. And when they do they just assume I’m tired and of course I let them think that, because in some ways I am. 

On the 9th of December it will be 15 whole years since my father died. A lot of things spring to mind when I have that thought. I still find it hard to deal with and that’s what worries me the most. I feel like I should be ‘over it’ by now. Of course I’m aware of how unrealistic that sounds but at the same time I’m sick of crying about this all the time. I’m sick of insulting quasi-memories of events that may or may not have happened the way I remember them.I’m sick of coming from a family that never discusses the big stuff. Instead we cover it up with unnecessary fights, bad jokes, repeated anecdotes and trivialities. And I just can’t deal with this.

A year after he died I sat in front of my praying mother and cried. When she realised why I was crying she rebuked me. And I never brought it up again. Often times we talk about my dad like some entity that once existed then stopped existing. IT DIDN’T HAPPEN LIKE THAT. 

And yes I know I should address this issue with them, but my family has never worked that way and we don’t deal with change well so…

Any way, I miss my father a lot this year. I just turned 21 and I’m thinking of all the reason’s why I need him around now and how life would have been different if he was. Even though I now realise I am no longer 6 and I can’t keep hoping to wake up and see my father sitting in his long chair, I still have other wishes. I wish I could remember his voice. I wish I could see him in a dream talking to me as I am now. I wish I could see him in a dream talking to me as I was then.

I have a lot of love and I feel ungrateful for not appreciating that as much as I dwell in this. But THIS is a major part of my existence so I find it hard not to dwell. I know that come December 9th I will gradually return to some form of emotional…numbness?? Stability?? I don’t know. Whatever shade of blue it is I usually maintain for the duration of the year. But right now the world feels rather dark and heavy. I find myself being thankful for things like seclusion and hours of the night where I can cry silently into my sleeves and insomnia and friends/family with eyes that do not see.

I saw something on Tumblr today that made me smile and cry and think today:

maybe my fathers presence

would’ve ruined me

as much as his absence did. 

Warsan Shire

ERRRMMM

....I just updated my other blog apologising for my absence and promising new content, then I realised I have nothing to promise you. Not that I have nothing to promise you but that I don't really think I'm ready to share. The truth is there is always so much going on in my life that it's all kind of a blur and I struggle to decide which one takes precedence. Furthermore unlike my other blog there is no clear cut purpose or audience for this one. Well I'll think of something soon and I'll make the time to share it. Thanks for being patient with me though....

Bye Now!!

Mixing Business with Pleasure

I write my life into my work; I can’t help myself. I deny it all the time of course. People read what I’ve written and send me messages saying things like ‘how are you Amina?’ and ‘how have you been holding up lately Amina?’ And obviously I tell THE lie and say I am fine. On my adventurous days I say I’m splendid, super, the picture of perfection, always awesome. The real truth is that my written work isn’t always centred on my life. That would the height of hubris and slightly obsessive on my part. However, I can honestly say there isn’t one thing I have written that wasn’t as a result of an event in my life. Some events are more profound than others. Some of them are more closely and honestly interpreted into my work than others. Yet it is always the case that I observe something from my life so far, often from my past, and after thinking a little too much about it an idea begins to form. That idea quickly becomes coherent words that end up on paper. Some days I feel the need to share it immediately however awful it is. Other days I leave it on paper. I go back to it over and over again looking for the loophole I unwittingly created. Some of these are still on paper somewhere and they’ve never been shared.

So on the days when I’m feeling dark, which I am beginning to accept is most days, I write. I write whatever I am feeling or seeing or thinking. I write till my fingers cramp. I write till the words look like unbroken scribbles. I write till I can’t make sense of any thought that pops into my mind. I write about everyone that matters to me. I write about everything that has had an impact. I just keep writing because it is the only way I know how to live.

Home

Home. It has become somewhat of an abstract notion to me over the years. I suppose that’s what happens when you move around so much. It means something different to me every time I talk about it. I mean I’ve barely been in Dubai a whole year and there are aspects of it that have come to feel like ‘home’.

Sometimes Nigeria is home, after all I was born there and I did live there for 13 of my 20 years. Other times it’s the UK. I stayed there for close to 7 years, I went to high school there, I experienced life there. I did things I can’t even begin to outline there. Not only did I grow up there, I grew smart. Then there’s Dubai. You know that thing people always say about you meeting lifelong friends at university? I’m finally getting to experience that here. I suppose that’s what makes Dubai so ‘homely’ for me right now. So for as long as that feeling lasts-or rather for as long as it outweighs my need to run somewhere else for cover-this place will be home.

I think the “problem” with me is that I am a Nomad. Long before leaving Britain, I was itching for new scenery. I thought moving from England to Wales would scratch that itch but it didn’t. I’m not a home-body, so to speak. I enjoy moving around, not too much, just enough to be mystified often, to be constantly rediscovering, to have a new opinion about myself, people and the world. I think that’s why I want to be a journalist.

The dream would be going from place to place, covering story after exciting story. The irony is I know that dream isn’t going to last forever. I’m going to get tired or old or boring (or all at the same time!) and when that inevitable day finally arrives what will I do? Will I just curl up in whatever corner of the world I find myself in and die a peaceful death? And if I do decide to go ‘home’ for the final chapter of my life where will home be? And if I do, by some unforeseen miracle, end up having a little nuclear family attached to me, what are they gonna be doing while I’m off playing free spirit and traipsing around the world? And this is all working under the assumption that the dream will become a reality…As always I am CLEARLY over-thinking everything. What will be will be, regardless.

On a lighter note, I got my results from first year and needless to say I wasn’t immediately satisfied. But in the grand scheme of things I did pretty well and I give God all the glory. Second year hear we come!

This is our Africa.

This is us. This is our Africa. This is the way we live, often not out of choice; we make do. This is where we wake up to pure joy and the beautiful sun glistening on our ebony skins. This is where we take casual walks in torrential rain without discomfort or fear. Our growth is stunted by your greed. But we are who we are; born fighters. It is going to take much more than your lies, deceit and exploitation to quench the flame that burns in our souls and shines in our eyes. The world will not remain silent to our cries forever, and even if it will, we will not. This is who we are. This is us. This is our Africa.

I will not pretend that my people were peaceful before yours came. Like much of the human race often is, we were at war with each other. I might even go as far as commending you for giving us a reason to be united. But even with our meagre wars before your arrival, we were better off. We had a system that worked, granted it would not have worked forever, but I assume we would have found a way to cross that bridge when we inevitably arrived at it. We shall never know for sure now. Your people came with talks of peace and unity but instead they brought with them war and division. They came to us preaching about giving when in reality they were all about taking. They came with talks of advancement when they were experts on recession. They took, they drained but worst of all they never left, not really. All things considered I think my people and I have acted fairly civilly towards you and your people, whether you deserve it or not. Often times when we react to the many ways you have and continue to taunt us, you deem our reactions childish. Our apologies for being the oppressed, sincerely. Yet we have one final request, if you would not mind terribly. I ask, like Moses did to the Egyptians, that you do us one insignificant favour: let my people go. I call it insignificant because we could ask for much more, but we will not. We will be independent, like we have been trying to be for years now, if only you’ll let us go. Call off the dogs, put down the weapons, yell retreat and surrender the motherland back to us. We are asking nicely. There is a revolution upon us. 

Time is of the essence

Do you know what the problem with people is? We always miss the moments! Your crush tells you they are moving across the world and your answer is “OK!” when really you want to scream “No! Don’t go! Don’t you dare leave me in this limbo!” The love of your life takes a sudden interest in someone else, and for the sake of friendship or diplomacy or Christ only knows what else, you practically organise their wedding for them. The whole time you’re thinking “I love you more than mere words can express” I will love you till China and Africa meet. But we never say how we feel. And on the off chance that we do confess our hearts desires, we do it when it is all wrong, then we apologise profusely for our awful sense of timing. I think it’s because we’ve come to expect so little of the world. Timing is of no relevance to you if you believe the outcome to be inevitable.

It isn’t just about love either, it’s everything. Having the opportunity to do something profound with your life and passing up the chance because you think you’re unprepared or unworthy. Really, all you are is afraid. Afraid that if we venture into the unknown, we might not like who we’ve become when we have to leave. Sometimes it is ignoring an opportunity to say something life changing to someone, honestly answering a question that you’ve spent so much time lying about, it has become second nature. We have all told that lie, when someone asks “How are you?” and you say “I’m fine!” with pride, joy and a beaming smile. But underneath it all you are far from fine. Of course I’m not asking us to hold our heart out on a platter every time someone offers a simple greeting. That would be slightly awkward. But there are times, you have to admit, when you just need to honestly answer: “I’m not fine, in fact I’m awful. My day has been horrible, my week even worse and if I have to smile and play happy families one more time I might actually pull my teeth out with pliers.”

It’s outrageous and scary, almost humorous even. But it is oh so liberating at the same time! The truth is we are all guilty of letting the important moments slip through the hourglass.  

Here, too dark. How you can study?

My mind admittedly works in a strange fashion. I make connections in my head where normal people probably wouldn’t.

I was sitting outside one night with my pen and my book in my hands, when a security guard at my accommodation at the time asked me a question that made more sense than anything else at that moment.

“Here, too dark,” he began. “How you can study?”

I smiled sheepishly at first, confused because I had no answer for a seemingly simple question. Fortunately he required none because he left as soon as he finished speaking. Then I did something I think I should do more often. I closed the book and dropped it on the table next to the pen. I couldn’t see clearly, so I just stopped. I wasn’t giving up; I just wasn’t being my usual stubborn self. I let go, temporarily of course, because I realised that when you are left in the dark, no matter what else you know there can be no real achievement of clarity; you only know half the story after all.

So you have two options:

·         Move into the light; discover the truth.

·         Stay in the dark and let go [until you are ready or able to try the former, of course].

Victory Cry (Prod. by Mista Caddy) - Embassy Crew

This is a song my friends in Dubai just released...what do u guys think?? If you like it, please share it :)
Click here to view and enjoy :)

Notice ME

My parents practically banned all forms of vernacular in our household to the best of my memory. Don't get me wrong, they encouraged us to indulge in our culture and speak our language but English first, because they aligned it to education. So in the end we could barely speak our mother tongues fluently and we were never allowed to speak Pidgin English, which is a kind of Creole common amongst western Africans.

Yet children often pick things up from school. One of these many linguistic strays I picked up would be the colloquial terms used by my peers to tease attention seekers. Notice me. Feelamonge. These two I remember fondly. They were one of those things that left you terribly hurt whenever you were on the receiving end of them, though you never really knew why. Even now, I think I would bite the head clean off anyone bold enough to accuse me of seeking attention. I remember the sting of choked tears at the back of my throat when someone I was quite fond of reminded me, with no shortage of nonchalance, that the world didn't in fact revolve around me.

Yet to some extent I know that I am. My blogging is proof. My social networking is proof. My interaction with friends and acquaintances is proof. So I begin to wonder: is it a sign of our times, a stigma on our generation? Are we cursed to constantly feel like we are incomplete, incompetent and therefore need to feed of off the attention we can scrape together from others, all the while feigning innocence and humility? Or is it just me? It's probably just me...but then again, I suppose it goes back to the cliche about no man being an island, because in all honesty, who amongst us can survive alone?

Random Compilation

I have a flu today, plus I have so much I need to sort out but in the spirit of sharing, here are a few of my private thoughts:

I get quieter when I'm thinking. Not in the sense of thinking while having a conversation, no. I'm practically a multitask-er when it comes to talking and thinking simultaneously. I mean more in the broad sense of having a lot on my mind and being in deep thought. I used to be quiet and shy but I've come out of my shell a lot and now I rarely shut up to the dismay of my nearest and dearest. And I'm sure the fact that I spew my jumbled thoughts out at lightning speed does nothing to ease their discomfort. But whenever I find myself in that state of mind where I become more reserved it is most likely a sign that I need to be alone with my thoughts somewhat. Not that I need to isolate myself like I used to when I was younger. Just more like I need to have some conversations within myself, find my balance. And I am definitely at that place now!

I'm letting people down by not being strong enough. I'm used to be the strong one wherever I am but recently life has been challenging, though in all honesty I am probably being hyperbolic about it all. So while I'm busy being selfish and whatever else, I feel like family and friends must be feeling let down by my absence. I should be there to help them and advice them but I'm falling short and that has to change.

I hope to God I know what I am doing. I'm making a decision to become more independent...or something along those lines. I am trying to take life into my own hands, more or less. It's hard but I am my father's daughter so it isn't impossible. I just hope to God I wont make any damaging mistakes that is all.

The Fray - Be Still (Scars And Stories)

Criminal Minds brings awesome quotes and beautiful music

He's Gone to Hong Kong

I love to easily and fall too hard...that's always been my problem!

I suppose I should start by informing you that there is a he...a pretty amazing he if you ask me; what do I know?? I'm biased!
Anyway he exists and he is a beautiful mind, with amazing insight on everything. Now as a sapiosexual find his mind to be one of the most attractive things since Samuel Johnson's dictionary.
We've been dating for a while and I think it's definitely a good sign that I have taken things surprisingly slow with him. It could have been slower, no doubt. But this is the slower I have ever gone and I commend myself if no one else will.
Unfortunately, or fortunately as you choose to look at it, he is in Hong Kong for the week. Alongside a team of three other apparent brainiacs, he plans to dazzle a roomful of people and I'll miss it...and I'll miss him more than I actually thought I would in all honesty. I already checked and found that he will get there at 2 am my time and 6 am HK time...
Well that's it. Just needed to share that with my keyboard.

Au revoir 

My Loves

The power of words

People think “I love you” are the words that express the most emotions, understandably. But in an age where the phrase is often overused, and wrongly so, I think we can safely assume that there are some variations that are more powerful. For example I recently heard this one: “It’s a different feeling isn’t it, when you’re touched by someone who loves you?” For me, not only is that powerful, it’s unique. One phrase that is often underestimated though is this one:

I WILL WAIT FOR YOU.

How many of us have ever said this? Or better still, how many have had this said to them? I admit I have said it before, and I meant it when I said it. But we say a lot in the heat of the moment without realizing its impact.

Before I go further, I must admit, I am a true believer in the use of “I love you” when it is applied properly and used appropriately, not just flung around willy nilly.  But I also believe there are many other great phrases that remain unexplored, like the aforementioned I will wait for you. Which ever way you choose to spin it, the meaning is clear and simple; you’re telling this person that you are committed, that no matter how long you are apart you shall patiently (and often celibately) await your reunion. That’s a big commitment to see through. Much like I love you these words are powerful and often used in the heat of the moment and often regretted later. Here you are, bound by the most uncertain of vows, and yet feeling an obligation to see them through to the end. Turning to someone after making such a vow and then saying what essentially amounts to, “I’m not as patient as I thought I could be and moreover you aren’t really worth the wait”, is one of the most devastating ways to shatter ones perception of romance.

Essentially, what this entire ramble comes down to is this. We use words without considering their meanings and impacts. We throw heavy words around serious conversations and expect that no damage will ever be done. But even the most advanced bulletproof vest couldn’t shield you from the impact of words.

Stabbings in England

I know I don't live in England anymore but the truth is I still have a lot of ties there. England is home to me in many ways, not that this fact makes me less Nigerian. Yesterday I got some bad news. A close friend of mine got stabbed by another close friend. He had to go to the hospital for about three days and only just got out yesterday. At first I was so shocked that I could barely type. And then I was crying without realising and repeating 'oh no' to myself like that would make a difference! I mean these people mean a lot to me, they are practically family and in the unlikely case that I am making a least of the most likey to get stabbed out of all my friends, their names wouldn't come out at the top!

So I spent most of yesterday confused and afraid for a friend who very nearly lost his life and no longer feels safe in his own home. Reality slapped me harder than it has in a while and I realised how unprepared I was to lose a loved one. Also, it taught me forgiveness, because my friend is willing to forgive the person who did this to him and I know I wouldn't be that willing. I mean I'm a forgiving person but I also love my life, contrary to popular belief.

Anyhow in some ways this event is the wake up call I needed, to live life to the fullest but not necessarily to throw caution to the wind. I hope you all take this initiative as well; it's a lesson well learned.

Random Update

Well the last few days have been mellow to say the least. Saturday night I had no sleep and I had a test at 9:45am Sunday morning...so I had a bit of a marathon but luckily today I had a late start so I could pass out :)

And no you didn't read that wrong; I do have to drag my butt out of bed on Sundays to go to school...
In Dubai (and I think other middle eastern countries, not sure) the weekend is Friday and Saturday because their Friday is their holy day of course. So therefore the week starts on Sunday :/ I know, I can't get used to it either...

Also I was supposed to submit something for a creative writing competition, but I missed the deadline because I have a lot of work to do.

I really need to find a way to live without sleep

It feels good to be back :)

Emeli Sande - Read All About It Part 3

you've got the words to change a nation but you're biting your tongue

I think you are owed an update

For anyone who actually was interested in this blog, I am sorry I didn't nurture it as much as I should have.

But today feels like a good day to let you know how life has been.

2010 was a tough year for me and 2011 started much in the same way. I more or less dropped out of Cardiff uni under the pretense of a gap year. I want to say I didn't achieve anything in that year but that would be a lie...a lot that was broken in my life got fixed to the glory of God. So 2011 went from bad to awesome pretty quickly. That isn't to say the journey wasn't difficult, because it was. By the end of 2011 I had revisited the motherland, Nigeria, for the 1st time in 6 years. And most importantly I was back in uni...only this time I'm in Dubai!

All honesty, it's over rated but I'm loving life...one can't complain...much. Now I'm coming towards the end of my first year and it is all very exciting. In the past few months I taking a step closer to overcoming stage fright, won a creative writing competition (my 1st ever might I add) and made some really amazing friends.

So glory be to God.