PERVADE!

I got into a mild argument with my Mother last night. And as is often applicable within emotionally arduous circumstances, I hated the process but I loved the outcome. Interestingly, our squabble didn’t stem from a typical or momentous causative factor such as relationship drama, shamelessly dozing off at morning devotion or recklessly letting the dishes pile up in the kitchen- in which case, I would usually be the culprit in all of these scenarios. (Or the victim, depending on the lens you choose to use. ) Instead, good ol’ WhatsApp- specifically, a WhatsApp broadcast- triggered the rise of stormy seas in my household last night.  Here’s what happened. I had been minding my business when my phone chimed in response to a new message notification. I picked it up, half-expecting to see one of those “hahahahaha” or “thank you for sharing” jerkers.  Please believe me when I say that nothing in the world could have prepared me to absorb what I now consider to be the father of all t...

I cannot definitively remember the exact spot, hour or date that we met. Of course, I know that it was circa 2012 and within the sprawling grounds of the University of Exeter’s Streatham campus. Now that I think about it, it must have been at one of the many student residences where you’d frequently find the minuscule population of African & Caribbean undergrads huddled together for one or all of these activities- to eat, gist and generally have a good time in all the ways that only we could. Or maybe it was at our weekly Christian fellowship- NOOMA, to be  precise- that our paths first crossed. What I do remember, however, is feeling instantly at home with this flawlessly dark-skin toned, slightly talkative but incredibly gorgeous and spirited young woman. She would later be introduced to me by a mutual friend as “Esther.” Our budding friendship would involve several shared interests, the most paramount being an insatiable love of food. Never mind that we were both Law student...

Doctor Adanna Steinacker once aptly said:  “ What makes people interesting actually has little to do with their accomplishments or title, rather it’s the things that people cannot ‘Google’ about you.” Let’s get straight into mine, shall we? 1 )  I play drum kits really well. No, I didn’t make any conscious, deliberate, “out of my way” efforts to learn. I was very interestingly “born with the gift.” Blessed by God. Just like that.  Of course, over time, I have made efforts to improve my dexterity and so forth.  Rather sadly,  I wasn’t always proud of my abilities and would often downplay my skills very insecurely because, for the most part, it appeared a tad unusual “for a girl to be able to do that.”  Fast forward to present day, being able to serve in God’s House, rhythmically leading His children as they lift up holy hands- swaying bodies left and right like rustling leaves on a windy day- has been the greatest honor of my life!  Every time I reali...

ENOUGH. Somewhere in an ancient town tucked within the ambit of Edo State is an inconsolable wail of sorrow too raw for words from a mother who has lost her will to live, a father who has lost the pride of his heart, a sister who has lost her best friend and confidante, a  course mate who has lost her partner in aspiration, a lecturer who has lost a bright and talented student, a choir that has lost an angel. Uwa Omozuwa. Lost to a senseless, barbaric, heart-wrenching kill. And for what? Sexual pleasure, with other layers of cruel undertones, although open to theories and guesses, are yet to be ascertained. Somewhere not excessively far off is a fed up and  distraught, 20 something year old woman, struggling to make sense of it all. Unable to close her eyes without being fed the image of this young and beautiful woman, only just a few years younger, who barely a week ago had her whole life ahead of her. Even as I type these very words, it’s incon...