What are friends for? Episode 14

What are friends for?

Episode 14

A kitchen they call it, but this time not filled with plates, pots and microwaves but something looks like kitchen cabinet- a table which has about three broad plates with each places having thousands volume control button and other features with a very tiny pipe running from it to small boxes raised above them. Sometimes, it looked like barber’s shop but then seeing guitars hanged and keyboard mounted close to these broad plates and small enclosed and transparent section with a raised microphone and a big earpiece worn around the head that covered the whole width of the ear. Then the whole building is an enclosure without a space for air to come in- not even a window but thank God cool air finds its way in even if knowing how is another mystery people (Nath included) won’t bother asking how until the day the air vex and won’t come in again only for them to be sweating profusely but will still not go out- what a kitchen it is!!!

This is where Nath resumed to after departing from his friends. He has recorded more than four songs in that same kitchen and he’s there to cook another using his holiday. No wonder he’s always with an earpiece and a note pad, writing and cancelling and some times, he takes his pen close to his mouth, scratching the lid lookes to the sky or anything above; shake his head somehow; remove the pen from his mouth before he writes something in the air like there is a book there before he eventually wrote in his note pad.

Pam also found himself in similar environment. But his was a very large building having series of chairs arranged. The forefront of the long room was raised above others with steps to move to the level of the other space. There were different plates too and boxes but this boxes were of bigger sizes and found in many locations. The small enclosed section here is for drum set. The whole building was decorated.


Pam does more of church activities- it’s either he’s there for service or he’s there to rehearse more on his favourite musical instrument- the guitar

For Rita, ninety percent of her time is in her parent house. It’s either she’s chatting, surfing through her social handles, watching movie, playing games, listening to music or doing house chores, and yes, sleep. When she wakes in the morning, she does the chores before she eats then lands on her bed to operate her phone before she finally sleeps and when she wakes up, she does some more things, eat again and sleep and that was the routine for her.

It was a really boring holiday for her and she can’t even wait to resume. Whenever she tried reaching out to her friends, she ended up discouraged cause she was always given reasons to hang up the calls or stop chatting. She was already very angry with both of them and had promised herself not to try chatting them up again because of how boring it could be- it was filled with good morning, good afternoon, how was your day? Good night messages.

“Hello Rita! Bae how far?” that was the first lines Rita heard after picking up a call she had ignored for about two times. She replied with not-too-pleasant tune “Yes! Good evening and who am I speaking with please?” like she didn’t save the contact of the person she was talking to.
“Are you kidding me? Have you changed your phone or what?” The caller replied in surprise. “Rita if you are joking please let me know. Besides, I have to tell you this quickly before I get engaged in another activity now. I just felt you need to know maybe you don’t know or you might have forgotten that today is Nath’s birthday”

“Today is his birthday, so? How would I know when the both of you did not have my time and were always giving excuses anytime I tried to reach out to you like I was forcing myself on you two. I have decided not to call or chat both of you up again after all you have done to me. If not that you called today, you think I will know today is his birthday? I stopped checking both of you status and in fact, that was why I pretended as if I didn’t know you are the one calling. You guys left me and were doing your own thing - I don’t even have an idea of what is taking all your time that you can’t even spare few minutes to talk with me.” Rita poured out angrily

Pam while listening to her began to scratch his head like someone who is about to lie to his parent. He squeezed his face all through her talk and sometimes, show the attitude of someone who is in an hurry but was delayed with a talk but Pam had to pay full attention after knowing how angry Rita is. “Rita! I am so sorry and I apologize on behalf of Nath. We couldn’t tell you about other things we do aside from studies. Anytime I am at home, I am always coordinating the youths in my church-I am the President and we are always planning and having programs. And for Nath, he is a musician and also a producer. So anytime he’s at home, he’s always helping his senior brother in the studio. In fact, he released a song today for his birthday. Check his status to get it” after saying all of this, he pleaded until she laughed.

Rita suggested that three of them meet to celebrate Nath’s birthday at a beach. Pam nodded in agreement to her suggestion and also suggested three days time which was a Saturday. Both of them decided to do video calls and put Nath through along the process. They did it and tried reaching Nath but just immediately he connected, he held the call and that took a while. Pam asked that they do it later.

Rita dropped the call and went ahead to check Nath’s WhatsApp status. She checked through his birthday photo shoot photos- Nath looked radiant in his stripped shirt accompanied by a black trousers and brown blazers shoe matching his belt. Then his black hat and his positions with a guitar on a field complemented the rest of the pictures on his status. Then at the extreme end of the status is the link to his new music he titled “Obianuju”

She was so curious to know how Nath sounds like. So she clicked the link and it straightaway got connected with the chrome browser on her phone, she got on the site, then the interface and saw two options- one is an arrow pointing downward for download and the other is a square painted which indicate to play. She tried clicking the download link but her faulty screen clicked the play icon and the song began to play. She listened for a few minutes, stopped it and clicked download again and this time was the right icon. She was waiting to the see the downloading icon but she got on another interface. It was an irrelevant post and she saw “to continue.   download, click download” and she did that only for her to get back to same interface. She was frustrated and was about leaving the browser only for an ad to pop out at the top. She was attracted to the graphics of a man in a 69 sex position with a lady and without thinking; she decided to check the content out.

Her one click landed her on a YouTube page filled with erotic videos. “I have promised myself not to watch this again and I will not because I don’t want to stir up my sexual drive again this time. I have stopped sex and porn” this thought was busy sounding loud in Rita’s ear but she was already getting curious to see the content. She paused and couldn’t press anything then.....

Watch out for the next episode

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Suicide

SUICIDE

Few days ago, after overcoming a few days of depression to about eighty percent, I was inspired to design a piece  (the picture at the upper right corner of the attached picture) Check out on www.tumihub.blogspot.com) titled “UNEXPLANABLE”

Few days after, I was about to sleep and couldn’t stop thinking about the picture. I was bothered and I posted it again (which I rarely do) with few more explanation. Someone chatted me up immediately and shared how she had been in the situation for days. She was glad she did.

Days later, I was sad to read the news of how someone known as @TweetsOfSHEGUN on twitter who committed suicide as a result of his failure in Jamb. It’s just so sad because I just wish he reached out to the right person before he took that step.

Then the worse came when a final year student known as Chukwuemeka Akachi on Facebook whose exams is starting today 14th of May precisely 10am, wrote a suicide poem- A good poet he is (click the link to get his poem https://tumihub.blogspot.com/2019/05/chuckwuemeka-akachis-suicide-note.html )     

Now, the worst for me today is when one of his close friends messaged me on Tumihub that he just needed someone to talk to. He explained that this is the second case they had in their class just this final semester. While he was explaining, it’s of no doubt that he’s much more depressed and may be having suicidal thoughts but he reached out and began sharing with me what life is doing to him.

Again, same person sent me voice note 10:34am as i was making this piece that another member of their class mate is in the hospital vomiting blood.

I reached out to a crew I am working with on matters like this to seek their help because I have started getting depressed only for me to hear one of us share her story of how she also had suicidal thought sometimes in 2017 but she overcame and now she thank God she didn’t go for that option because now, things look better and she’s happy that she survived it. She kept saying ‘someone said suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem”

Isn’t that true?

Please, Tumihub is calling out every NGO, government agencies, Life coaches, help lines and organizations to take this issue serious and make plans to curb it. For Tumihub, breakfree and Fearless platform, the approach we are looking at is a medium or platform where anyone and everyone can share what their case is; A platform to share your stories of how you go through any stage of victimization and how you overcame; a platform that the first thing that comes to your mind whenever you are going through depression is to share there and hear people that can relate and not judge or give advice that looks impossible. 
We are making plans and we are starting as soon as possible. If you are interested to be part of the team or you want to a member of the platform, send “Antivictim” to any of the medium below

WhatsApp: 09051911988
Twitter and IG: Tumihub
Facebook: Tumi Ministry or Tumihub_Media_world

Thank you
OMAA

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Chuckwuemeka Akachi's suicide note

*Sixteen Notes on how to end a Life – Akachi Chukwuemeka*
*a sad peom written by the boy that killed himself in unn...read and share for others to learn*

Veins are kite strings we can only cut free —Andrea Gibson

16.

I thought I would never write this story.

15.

I’m trying.

14.

“Sir, when was the last time you thought of killing yourself?”

“Now”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Can we reschedule?”

13.

Today I came home with a belly drenched in litres of petrol I forced down my throat. This story will never end, but it does have a beginning.

 My depression eats me patiently and washes me down with the sound of the silence in my bedroom. This is how I learn that when you stretch your body to occupy spaces, it weaves itself into a form of its own, another excuse to feel smaller each time you climb into your bed.

12.

On the bus, the woman next to me didn’t seem to notice I probably wouldn’t be alive in the next thirty minutes. I thought when you want to kill yourself, you will be visibly marked. Everyone would notice. The driver waved me into his bus, after asking me my location, as if the petrol sitting in my stomach wasn’t enough to fuel his car all the way to the nearest cemetery.

I didn’t tell him. Instead, I asked him to stop me at the Catholic Cathedral, I should find a therapist there. I thought he would see the sign. He is marked, the sign should say. Nobody saw it. I was dizzy and everything was becoming fuzzy. How could they not see that? God should have sent somebody. He/she/they should have stopped me. What kind of god lets a human-time-bomb, forged in litres of petrol, liquid fire, to walk into a bus and sit next to a woman thinking of dinner?

 11.

“Breathe. Breathe. I hope the couch is comfortable?”

 “Should I turn off the air conditioner?”

 “Why did you want to kill yourself?”

 “Can you hear me, Sir?”

10.

The church is the earliest memory I have of my childhood. Mum made us go to all the bible study sessions in the children’s ministry. In Wukari, Taraba state, where I grew up, the children’s ministry was much organised. There were series of classes that you had to pass through and they actually took exams.

I don’t remember anything from those classes. Sunday school. Evening bible study. Monday classes. None. Maybe I was just too young.

I remember the black fruit we plucked after services. My elder sister and my cousin. I don’t remember how we are related. I remember the pimples on my cousin’s face and how I stared at them whenever she bent to pick out fruits. They always seemed to be rotten by the time they fell. All I remember about my sister is the cheerful-coloured gowns she wore, with a hat to match each one. It was 2003 or so and I don’t know how old I was. I wasn’t up to six years old. I remember it in showers. Light showers.

9.

“Would you say that your childhood was pleasant?”

 “Why are you smiling? So it was pleasant then?”

(Laughter)

 *

Growing up, I was taught how to laugh in-between the lines, in monosyllables that come off neat and harmless. Nobody taught me how to envy my skin or write love letters to myself or peace. I learnt everything I was taught I had to or I wouldn’t move to the next class

8.

I don’t remember saying much. In church, at home. I say a little at school. I just remember being at those places. Not a single sentence. I was everywhere I was supposed to be, rather, my mum thought I was supposed to be, without leaving a trace. After the children’s Sunday services, we had to wait for the adults to dismiss. That is the only memory I have of the church. It was like floating in and out of places.

Children running around, climbing cashew trees, picking rotten mangoes, tasting them, spitting them out, crying, letting themselves be consoled, wiping the tears, starting all over again. It was all like a silent movie to me. Only, I was in the cast. I ran, cried, did everything and never said anything. I wasn’t a quiet boy, I was just mute.

7.

“Any memories you might want to share with me?”

“Are you happy, Sir?”

 “Let me help you?”

6.

Onyinye. She was much older than I was, but she still, somehow, winded up beside me the whole time. We were together the way an ocean clings to a sinking ship. Once, she suggested we played father and mother, and then chose to be father. I remember her lying on the pew, where bibles were dropped in the children session, smiling down at me. Me: an abandoned child in a war zone, lying on the seat of the same pew, staring at this girl, who seemed to be just happy, lying there, saying nothing. I remember my ‘cousin’ calling to take me home.

I don’t remember saying goodbye.

*

You know, moths have no choice than to flirt with flames. When the flames bite their wings, they call it exercise and apply first aid. It’s their destiny.

5.

The first time I ever thought of killing myself was in Nsukka.

I wanted pass any sharp thing through my body.

 Dad stayed in Nsukka, Enugu state, alone. Whenever he visited, he would bring bread — even though mum sold bread at our store — and most importantly, avocados. Those were scarce in the north. Bread and avocado was his favourite too. At that time, one of them was sold for #50. My mother couldn’t sell avocados in our shop because our neighbour already did. The northerners didn’t ask for it anyway. Our shop was the first in a row of shops owned by Igbo people. Selling avocado would have been a waste of money. Only the Igbos who lived in our street, Akata Street, bought them and every other shop in that row sold it.

I remembered my dad for avocados and hard luck.

Each time he came, something bad happened to me. One night, my elder sister urinated in my bathing water and my mum made me use it. My sister had beaten me while we were alone at home. I don’t really know why she did that. I managed to run the few blocks it took to reach the shop. I cried so hard that my father got me a bottle of Sprite, and handed me some slices of bread. At night, my sister struck. My mother didn’t believe me. Maybe, she felt I was just being mischievous, and made me bathe with the water.  I remember crying. I remember the water and my sister’s urine washing the tears in joint mockery. Something bad happens whenever my father comes back, but I still wanted him to. Avocados.

 No one asked if I wanted to move or not.

Perhaps I was just too young.

I don’t even remember packing my bags. But I remember the journey. I was sitting on my father’s lap in the seat closest to the window. We: my mom, sister, cousin and I used to visit my dad in Nsukka from time to time, but that was all it was, visits. I had already made home out of a strange land. My sister would have slapped me if she heard me call Wukari my home. This time, I was supposed to stay in Nsukka for a longer time. Maybe forever. I’m not sure how I felt about that. I hummed the few Hausa songs I learnt till I got tired.

And then forgot, all of them.

*

Memories are lonely horse riders. They never stay too long in a new town. They are always on the road. I’m learning to love them without getting committed.

4.

When I held the knife in our bedroom in Nsukka, I was standing next to the red cupboard that had cracked glasses. My father kept a couple of fancy ceramics we never used there, right next to the kitchen knife.

It was on a Sunday morning.

I had chicken pox and my dad rubbed a white lotion all over my body.

Onyinye could be playing in a church, thousands of miles away. She could still be lying on that pew, saying nothing, smiling down at a different boy this time.

Maybe, I was the sinking ship the ocean was trying to hold on to.

When I forgot the Hausa songs we sang on the playground, I forgot faces too. I no longer remembered what she looked like. The only recurrent memory I had of her was a Gif file: a girl lying on a church pew, and a boy staring at her. Blankly. Not knowing what it means for a girl that age to climb a pew for him.

The blade was sharp. I had watched my dad cut onions and peel avocadoes with it. I pointed it to my stomach in one slow movement and watched the tip flirt with my shirt buttons. I felt that if I died, all the people in the children’s ministry would have to attend. I didn’t win all those bible quizzes for nothing. All the teachers knew me. I had even seen the coordinator several times, talking to my mother after services. Onyinye would come. Everyone would come.

I couldn’t get through with it each time. I always let the knife dance around my shirt for a while before I put it back.

I repeated it every day. I can’t remember when I stopped trying, but I remember not telling anyone, including myself. That was the first time.

3.

“Son, why then did you come all this way to this place if you will not speak to me?”

 “Please say something, you have been mute since you asked for a reschedule?”

 “Are you sure you don’t need a priest instead, because I’m just a therapist?”

 “Ok, let’s reschedule. Thanks for coming”

(Door closes)

*

I give my body options and it always chooses to baptize itself in seas because they say salt are water made flesh. But the salt my body chooses is an abusive lover who changes its taste so when I look in the mirror I tell myself that I need a new one and the only way to wear a new body is to die and when I say I die every day, it’s not a decision, it’s just my nature

2.

 I‘m marked. The man in charge of the universe shouldn’t let living ghosts like me roam his planet. There was no reason for drinking the petrol. The only difference between today and the days I stood next to the red cupboard, knife in hand, is that I’m twenty. I am a final year student of a university in Nigeria, who is more interested in finding more ways to end his life, than actually living it.

When I woke up this morning, I didn’t know I would try to end my life again. A rainbow can never wash off his colours. He will never be clean. I just walked into a filling station and asked for two litres of petrol. The attendant looked at me like I just walked out of the sky. I got the point and crossed the road to buy two nylons. She glanced furtively at me as the nozzle spat fuel. She was handing me my funeral clothes. Inadvertently.

No one could see the mark.

Every time I walk out of my bedroom I am aware that I’m an unforgiveable sin. People like me shouldn’t be allowed to walk free with all the monsters our depression carves into our brains. The attendant watched a sin walk free and did nothing about it. My mother, well, she will certainly cry.

My sister never cries.

She might just knit silently for two months till the grief slips through her needle. My father would just grunt for a week and go back to peeling avocadoes, with the same kitchen knife that flirted with my shirt buttons.

My memory will never stick.

I pity the therapists I have visited over the years. I never spoke to any of them. A moth will always dance to flames. I tried petrol because kerosene didn’t work out the last time. I threw up in my bedroom and the whole plan was gone. I was in second year then. Death is a safe pair of hands whispering my name, and I draw closer every day. A mere therapist’s questions can’t make me betray his trust.

No bride leaves death at the altar.

At twenty, there is not much difference between now, and the night my sister peed in my bathing water. I’m still the boy who doesn’t know how to shout at bullies. Who still falls for every girl in the playground (she doesn’t even have to lie on a pew). Who still floats into spaces without occupying them. Who leaves no traces. Who is mute. My bed feels smaller each time I lie on it. The boy never grew up.

Life still pees in every bucket of water I use. My bathroom walls look on helplessly as the liquid mockery trickles into my mouth. My bathing water is always warm.

Why can’t anyone see my mark? I never belonged here. I’m still too young to understand anything. The boy that watched a kitchen knife flirt with his buttons and said nothing still lives here. For some reason, the knife has not stopped flirting with me.

We are in a long term relationship now.

I lie on the bed and let the rumble in my stomach continue. This is going to be the last attempt. This will be a long night. It has been an hour since I left the therapist’s office, and I’m spoon-feeding this story to my journal. No one holds my pain more than he does. When I fall asleep, I’m never going to wake up again.

I am ready to dream myself into a shiny casket.

 This is the longest story I have ever written.

Goodnight therapist, filling station attendant, driver, woman on the bus, sister, cousin, mum, dad, Onyinye. I forgive you. I’m the sin here. I’m unforgiveable.

1.

I wake up. Again.

 1,217
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One thought on “Sixteen Notes on how to end a Life – Akachi Chukwuemeka”
Favour says:
MARCH 16, 2019 AT 2:31 PM
I feel like crying NO I’m crying this is so beautiful

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Why reading is the secret of highly successful people

Why Reading Is the Habit of the Highly Successful

Published on January 31, 2019
By: Vincent Carlos

We Have a Problem

There is something completely wrong with society today. We live in a world where we have an abundance of information; We have sites like Google, Bing, and YouTube at our fingertips; We have countless free eBooks and audiobooks that we can download and learn from; We have millions of great books that we can check out at the local library or read at a Barnes and Noble.

We have all this knowledge for us to use, but it seems like no one is really getting any more educated as a result of it.

“We are drowned in information, but starved for knowledge.”
One of the biggest reasons for this is because education has turned so many people off from learning, especially when it comes to reading books.

After years of being forced to read books and give reports and presentations on them, students, by the time they graduate, never want to pick up another book ever again. In fact, 42% of college graduates never read another book for the rest of their life!

This is a shame because if you study all the greats, such as Oprah Winfrey, Steve Jobs, or Charlie Munger, you’ll find that they are all voracious readers.

This is because reading is, and always has been, the habit of the highly successful.

It's not a coincidence that the billionaire investor Warren Buffett reads eight hours a day. "The more you learn, the more you earn,” Buffett says.

Bill Gates is another great who is well known for reading. Gates will actually take reading vacations for weeks at a time.

If you look at CEOs in the world, the average CEO reads one book a week. That’s 50+ books a year!

Now, just imagine what your life would be like if you also read one book a week for the next 10 years of your life.

Given that you read the right books, you couldn’t help but be healthier, happier, and financially more successful as a result of just reading more.

This is something that all highly successful people know - that if they can get the right book in their hands, then the rest will naturally flow their way.

Luckily for us, books will do more for you than just give you the knowledge they provide. Books have the ability to cut the learning curve by months, years, even decades for you.

This is because so many people have gone ahead of you in life, which means you can learn from them. You don't need to learn everything the hard way through trial and error.

As Will Smith once said,

“There have been gazillions of people that have lived before all of us. There's no new problem you could have - with your parents, with school, with a bully. There's no new problem that someone hasn't already had and written about it in a book.”
This is…

The Key To Making Fewer Mistakes In Life

For the next 10 seconds, just imagine if you could avoid making all life-changing mistakes in your life. Mistakes like investing years of your life into dating the wrong person only to have it end with breakup, failing in business and going bankrupt, or being a runner and getting a knee injury that would cause you to never run again.

Some people think it's noble to make mistakes because it “builds character,” but this is a myth.

Making mistakes isn't bad; in fact, they're essential for growth. But some mistakes are fatal and making certain mistakes over and over again is time consuming and unnecessary.

In the book "The Selfish Gene,” Richard Dawkins, who is an evolutionary biologist and author, says,

"Survival machines that can simulate the future are one jump ahead of survival machines who can only learn on the basis of overt trial and error. The trouble with overt trial is that it takes time and energy. The trouble with overt error is that it is often fatal. Simulation is both safer and faster."
This means your ability to simulate is what will give you a competitive advantage in the game of life.

Many of you may want to start your own business, climb the corporate ladder, or find the love of your life someday, and as you strive towards these goals, you'll inevitably approach many forks in the road where you will have to make certain decisions. But keep in mind that every decision you make is, in a sense, a gamble.

Most people give no thought to this. Most people just make a decision they predict to be the right choice and then go down that path to see if they were right. After time, if they see that it wasn't the right path, they turn back and take the other path.

They'll repeat this process until they find the road that eventually takes them to where they want to go, but this is ineffective and is the least efficient way to start a business, to enter a relationship, or to achieve your goals.

The way to solve this problem of making decisions that could be mistakes is to become a learning machine. If you want to improve your ability to simulate then you need to simply do one thing: You need to read more.

Reading books about other people’s experiences and their advice on what you should do will provide you with a proper framework on what has worked for others and what hasn’t. By doing this, you’ll save yourself a lot of time and effort.

So, Which Road Are You Traveling?

Understand, whatever your goals are in life, there are two ways of achieving them: There’s the long conventional path and the short less conventional path.

The long conventional path is what happens when you think you don’t have to read about other successful people in your field or listen to the advice of those who are 20, 30 years down your same path.

Unfortunately, this is the path most people choose. Most people skip the shorter path, which is learning from other people's success and failures.

Don't do that.

Instead, "Employ your time in improving yourself by other men's writings, so that you shall gain easily what others have labored hard for," as Socrates once said.

Warren Buffett said something similar, "People learn from mistakes, but it doesn't have to be their mistakes."

This is why I’m writing this manifesto. I’m writing this manifesto because I don’t want you to waste your time making time consuming and unnecessary mistakes as you navigate through life.

No matter what your goals are, whether it’s health, love or financial success, making mistakes will be an inevitable part of your learning process. The goal, however, is to minimize the number of mistakes you actually make.

This is why we all need to read the advice that other successful people have laid out in their books to help guide us in the right direction.

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What are friends for? Episode 13

What are friends for?

Episode 13

The bond of friendship became stronger than Anthony Joshua. Pam, Nath and Rita entered a phase where they really cherished and enjoyed each other's company. To them, it’s ok if they can stay together all years in as much as the basic amenities are available. Lectures, assignments and any other thing that restricted them from being together became a burden- even twenty four hours became the biggest burden as time flew too quickly. They sometimes talked late into the night till it's almost morning and most times ended up going late to classes and even spent the largest time sleeping or dozing. Rita stayed more with Pam and Nath and sometimes wouldn’t go home until she had exhausted all her clothes only for her to get to her hostel and find designs like a Christmas light running across the perimeter of her room.   

But then, test and exams gradually knocked at the door. At first, it wasn’t a big problem but when it was few days to the exams, the communication reduced and each of them sourced for how to learn. Pam and Rita couldn’t study together despite being course mate because they understood that they have different pattern and time for study- Pam loved to do midnight reading in a noisy area, which always required him to go to school overnight while Rita love to read in the day in a silent place with her ears plugged in feeding her with soul music. The only thing they do together in this period was to revise or to meet Nath to put them through some few things.

Just like every other thing, exam came and was gone in no time. Pam and Rita finished four days before Nath which made Rita and Pam got communicating again while Nath was always frustrated about his remaining exams- he couldn’t join their conversations and play and even when he does, he left in no time to prepare for his exams.

Four days was over and the three got together again. They agreed to spend three days in school before leaving for their various homes. Cooking, eating, talking, playing Ludo game, arguing, etc became the routine for these days.

It was a time to talk more on their past lives and weird days. As they did this, it became easy to open up anything to one another. "Pam! You can't believe that I've dreamt about this time before while I was still in secondary school. In that my dream, i was able to share anything with the guy. I even told him my weak point sexually and I was happy with him. The guy was my fiance in that dream but look at me now, I'm so happy to be amongst you guys" Rita said as she picked the beans with Pam. Nath came in and requested that Pam followed him to get the rice that will complement the beans and also ingredients of the red oily caping stained with different colours of good attraction and aroma. They left in no time leaving Rita with the beans.

Rita finished picking the beans and was expecting her friends and since she hadn't taken her bath, she decided to bath before they came back. She took off her clothes and was left with her pants and bra. She left for the bathroom with a wrapper on.

As the splash of water makes beat, she sings along while the echo gave the sound another melody but the tone of her voice were fighting one another which made the song horrible but to her, she was singing nice and was enjoying herself. She raised her hands, twist her legs to do some dance steps she will never try outside the bathroom. She looked herself in the mirror as she did all of these in the name of bathing.

It was time to dry her body and change her underwear, then she remembered she didn't have them with her. So she decided to get it in the room.

By this time, Pam was close to the room. He came back to get money as the both of them were lost in conversation that they didn't remember to take money along only for Nath to buy fried yam and potatoes and was already eating it before they realized they didn't have money on them. Nath stayed back while Pam rushed home to get the money.

"Rita! Rita! You won't believe what happened to us" Pam said this as he moved closer to the door hurriedly and was laughing

"Pam wait, don't come in" Rita said as she hurriedly got towards the wrapper but Pam couldn't hear as he was engrossed with thoughts of how to get to Nath as soon as possible.

He opened the door and all that followed was "aaahhh! Go back" Rita screemed as she squat on a wall and her hands bodyguiding her breast.

Pam eyes didn't look but saw in just few seconds and he went outside. "Sorry, i didn't know you are dressing up" and while he stood outside, he replayed the picture of what he saw "God forgive me" he quickly said to skip the thought.

He got the money thereafter and left to meet Nath. In no time, they came back and cooked with Rita. They ate together and all prepared to go home.

Watch out for the next Episode

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*6 Morning Rituals That Will Make You Productive All Day*

By: Brian Scudamore

I share stories of entrepreneurship: vision, growth and people.

If you’re running your own business or you’re career-driven, it’s easy to burn the candle at both ends and find yourself in a constant state of exhaustion. I used to find it difficult to get out of bed in the mornings, hitting “snooze” repeatedly before rushing out the door to start a 12-hour day. But now that I’ve made some tweaks to my routine, I jump out of bed at 5:55am on the dot — and I’ve never felt more energized and productive.

Being productive starts when you wake up.

I’m not the only entrepreneur who knows the power of an early start: Tim Ferriss, Oprah and Apple’s Tim Cook all begin their days before sunrise. If you’re looking to make the most of those key hours before you hit the office, try out a few of these morning routines for yourself.

1. Set Your Alarm with Precision

Why have a super-precise wake-up time? There’s something psychological about being specific that tells your brain to pay attention – it’s the same reason we do our company morning huddle at 10:55 each morning. I used to set my alarm for around 6:00am, changing the wake-up call by a few minutes forward or back every day and hitting snooze (a lot). Now I don’t compromise: it’s set for 5:55, and the specific routine is ingrained in my psyche, forcing me out of bed on time.

2. Write Down 1 Daily Intention

I head straight from bed to the coffee maker. While my espresso is brewing, I take a moment to set my intention for the day. Writing down your goals makes you significantly more likely to achieve them and I firmly believe that what gets measured, gets done. When I log an intention, I have successful, happy days. On the days I don’t, it’s harder to focus.

I use my iPhone notepad to jot down one goal (just one!) to accomplish in the next 24 hours. These intentions are always simple and attainable. For example, today it was “hit the gym”; other times it might have to do with how I eat. Though these are related to personal health, taking care of myself ultimately means taking care of my business.

3. Give Yourself a Power Hour

This is arguably the most important part of my morning ritual. My kids wake up around 7:00am, so 6:00 to 7:00 is a precious chunk of time for myself. It might mean perfecting my French (one of my 101 Life Goals is to teach a business class en francais), getting in a quick workout, or doing some reading.

The one thing I never do during my power hour? Check my email. We’ve all been guilty of this, but I used to reach for my phone and open my inbox first thing in the morning. I found opening my email so early in the day let other people dictate my priorities, making me reactive instead of proactive.

4. Find a Way to Fuel Your Body Properly

Plenty can happen during your 9-to-5 that gets a healthy diet off track. But I find being intentional about the first meal of the day (when willpower is at its peak), means I’m much more successful in maintaining good habits.

Right now, I’m using a local meal delivery company called Vital Supply Co to make it extra-easy for me to eat well. They let me choose between different meal options to optimize my energy throughout the day. When I was younger, I would often skip lunch or stuff my face with whatever was around. Now I know that a healthy routine leads to healthy mind and focus, and that you can’t be a leader who is confident and energized if you’re not fueling your body right. Finding a healthy delivery service has made it impossible for me to miss mealtime.

5. Choose to Use Your Commute Efficiently

Though some entrepreneurs may want to (or have to) pull 12 hour days, I’ve made a conscious choice to prioritize balance and make more time for my physical health and family.

While I typically don’t get into the office until 8:30 or 9:00, I’ve found that my 20-minute drive can be utilized to get work done. My assistant schedules interviews and conference calls for when she knows I’m driving and available hands-free, so I can be productive en route. Checking some things off while in transit means I’m able to cut down on actual time at the office. It also results in more creative thinking because I’m mobile and in a different head space.

6. Get a Good Night’s Sleep

The real secret to a productive morning, though, is the night before. I’m generally in bed around 10 p.m., but before I drift off, I list 10 things I’m grateful for. Especially when I’ve had a bad day or something’s gone wrong, it’s a powerful reminder of the progress I’ve made with family, fitness, and business. Ending my night on a positive note means that, at 5:55 when that alarm goes off, I’m ready to start a new day on the right foot.

mywtfbook.com

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What are friends for? Episode 12

What are friends for?

Episode 12

Nath began “have you wondered why I have found it difficult to go to church or honour any spiritual father and mother so to say? He asked. How can i? When my own father that everyone thinks is the cleanest man always battered my mom every night without reason? I never knew this until the day I passed my first UTME exams. I received the message around midnight while i was surfing and with joy, I didn’t know when I got to their door only for me to hear sounds. He was seriously beating her and she was literally pleading. How on earth will she be pleading, when she should just take us and leave?  I couldn’t confront any of them but I really was not comfortable in church hearing them preach what they don’t have and showing the love that didn't exist. I stopped going to church because of this. On a particular Sunday, I was looking for my flash drive and while searching, I got into my dad’s locker and for the first time, it was opened. Knowing it was a mistake but for curiousity, I checked it out only to find porn movies all over. Oh! I never knew it was porn until I slot it into the DVD player to check it out, I was surprised and disappointed the more. I couldn't stop watching until i heard a sound outside; I quickly got everything back to their normal positions. My Dad walked in and went straight to his room and I perceived he remembered he didn’t lock his locker. He locked it and got on me. He said a lot of things and with annoyance of all I found out, I responded with anger and left the house for good three months.

Where I stayed for those months, I became promiscuous by their influence and free access to porn. The worst happened when I got back home and after settling things with my Dad, mom called me and asked why I had changed drastically. I told her about the night she was beaten and that was when I knew it had been her daily routine. I thought I heard it all only for her to start talking again. ‘My son, that’s my fate she said. Your father is a good man but just hot tempered and jealous. He sometimes beat me for talking to any of the men in our church saying I was trying to flirt with them just because of my one mistake. I only did that once son but that was when I was so in the mood and your dad knew how high my libido is. I’m not easily satisfied and he will even go to the length of watching porn to satisfy me but this time, he was always with missionary work and for a month, he didn’t have my time. So I had to get it outside. My son, I’m at fault here and this is because I had a promiscuous youth life. Please forgive your father for my sake’

Right there, i didn't know what to say. I just started crying. But my Dad called himself a Pastor and he still do all of that to his wife? No matter what she has done, is he not the one that always preached to forgive and forget?

The worst of it is that the experience of those few months got me who I am today. "

Pam and Rita looked with surprise and curiosity written all over their faces . Serenity and solace overshadowed the atmosphere where they were. 'So, the I'm not the only one feeling' got the three of them to cheer up and Pam suggested they pray together that night.

Three of them held hands together and prayed one after the other and each of them also prayed that God give them the right mind to forgive their parents and be closer to them as much as possible.

"I have a confession to make please" Rita said and coincidentally, Pam and Nath said "go on na" before Nath finally added "thank God this is confession time". They all chuckled

"Like seriously, i don't know if I'm the only one but i felt something heavy was lifted from my heart. It's just like a loosened weight or something" Rita said only for Pam and Nath to affirm the same thing. "I've always taught people to share their secrets and see the magic in it but I never practiced it. Thank God I did today and I am so happy I shared it with these set of friends who can understand me better" Pam said.

They cracked jokes together and played into the midnight before they slept off.

Watch out for the next episode!!!

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