Heartbreak : Life goes on

Do you know the worst thing about heartbreak ? Life goes on. The world doesn't stop one second for your grief.
You wake up every morning to tear drenched pillows because apparently you have been crying in your sleep. Nerve-racking, Sweat-inducing, Soul-crushing tears.

You go to work, the mall, church and everybody is going about their business. It's like nobody sees the physical pain you're in. And how can they see, when you have this fake smile plastered on your face. The ones who know don't really understand how you feel. They wouldn't understand even if you explained it to them. Heck you can't even explain it to yourself.
It's like someone reached into your chest and ripped your heart out. But that would mean you'd be dead, right ? So why then does it feel like you've been run over by a thousand trains a thousand times over?

You just want to be alone, in your bed, with your thoughts. Their well meaning show of concern and platitudes disgust you.
"He's in a better place"; "You'd find somebody more deserving of you"; "God knows best"; "I know how you feel"...
What you feel is numb.

Which slowly progresses to anger. And if you let it, that anger eats deep into you for a while and colors your outlook on life , jeopardizing your other relationships . You swear you'd never let anyone get close enough to hurt you like that ever again.

But all you feel is empty. You miss him. You ask God to bring him back to you. You promise to be good, to give more to the needy and participate in every church activity. But deep down you know nothing can ever bring him back.
All you have now are memories.

You woke up this morning to dry and fluffy pillows. It doesn't hurt so bad anymore .
Life really does go on.

WaZoBia

My mom has two super powers for when she goes to the market.
In addition to her native dialect, she can speak Yoruba and Hausa.
Why is this a super power you may ask?
Because the price of 1kilo of carrot can drop drastically from N400/kilo to N250/kilo just because mom spoke Hausa to the mallam that sells the carrot .

Even more impressive is that if she happens to meet an Igbo seller in the market, they start bargaining with her in Ibo language, wrongly assuming that she is an Igbo woman because apparently she looks like one (I get that all the time too). Sometimes she has to apologize that she isn't Igbo, other times she plays the situation like a true Igbo woman.😁

But perharps the greatest super power/ bargaining chip she has is ME.
"My customer is this your daughter? Oyibo Nigeria! My color! She's so fine."
"Yes o. She's a medical doctor now."
"Is that so! Wow my dear congratulations o. Nne come and sit down you hear, make them no stain this your color..."
*yada yada yada*

Needless to say we left that shop with a generous discount that day.

Love Expressions

The villagers swore she'd never have a child of her own.
And for a while she didn't.
Even the most modern of medicine couldn't explain it.

Watch her expression soften as she recalls the first time she found out she was pregnant with you.
Listen to her tell you how her water broke barely seven months into the pregnancy and she had to stay in the hospital till it was safe for you to come out.
You can almost feel her pain as she tries to describe how agonizing her contractions were....felt like she was being torn apart she says, as you came out of her..
There was blood. So much blood.

She can recall the name of every doctor and nurse that was on duty that night.
She'd tell you how your father tried to watch the delivery perched on a window because they wouldn't let him enter into the labour room. And how a doctor eventually caught and hauled him away, amid vehement protests.
You both laugh.


And the first time she held you in her arms, in that very moment, she understood what true love felt like.

A Pot Of Afang Does Not A Calabar Woman Make - The Rant

Disclaimer: The following rant was inspired by Arit Okpo's BellaNaija article "A Pot Of Afang Does Not A Calabar Woman Make"

There are four things Nigerians typically associate with people from Akwa Ibom/Calabar:
1) Ekaette i.e house help
2) Dog meat. We love us some 404
3) Edikaikong soup. If you haven't eaten edikaikong, you haven't lived. I don't make the rules.
4) Bedroom Olympics. Now this is where things get a bit crazy.

For the purpose of this conversation (and all the stereotypes that go with it), my use of the phrase 'Calabar  woman" shall include my Efik, Ibibio, Anang and northern cross riverian sisters.

So you tell a young man that you are from Calabar, next thing you know he's asking when you can come to his house to cook Afang soup.
The more daring ones will ask straight up "So you sabi do the thing wella abi" and you can feel them mentally undressing you with their eyes. Sigh.

But there's more to a Calabar girl than a pot of afang soup and as for the other thing, I can't speak on behalf of us all.
However let me tell you what years of observation and association with Calabar women has taught me.

1) A Calabar woman is the perfect hostess. She can kill you with love (and food). Leave matter for Matthias, a Calabar woman will go all out to make you feel comfortable, relaxed and at home.
2) They don't joke when it comes to food. Nothing is done in half measures. They prefer to prepare their meals from scratch with fresh ingredients through and through.
3) Calabar women are neat freaks. My God! I am yet to meet a "dirty" one. They abhor dirtiness and untidiness, it's almost borderline OCD.
4) Maybe it's just me, but I have discovered that Calabar women who speak another language other than Efik/Ibibio, it's usually always Yoruba. I find it fascinating.
5) A Calabar woman pays attention to detail and is usually very eloquent and graceful.
6) Did I forget to mention that we have really gorgeous women this side of the planet.

Happy New month!