What Africa never prepared me for…As I journeyed to the United Kingdom!

Well, quite a lot actually.

Thinking about it.

Natin, absolutely natin!

Sierra Leone didn't give me the memo to anything London related.

This was a new life. This was adaption 2.0

I was in limbo!

Upon arrival, I was lost. 

Sierra Leone was home, still home and my reality.

That was quickly altered or should I say edited.

Landed in the United Kingdom in the dead of winter and as that winter blizzard slapped me across the face, I promised myself that Sierra Leone will forever remain my reality –

My unedited reality.

I was a teenager, uprooted from everything I know. Separated from my friends and culture. Divided from everything I have ever known. Detached from my roots and planted into the unknown.

I had no choice but to blossom in the uncertainty in the midst of my formative years.

The great news was, I was joining my parents which makes the transition a bittersweet ordeal.

And it began…

Aeroplane ride was a delight. Loved the ride. I love heights and adventure so that experience which I have only before seen on telly is coming alive for me.

I was over the moon.

Can you blame an African child who’s never crossed the river?

Does the war count? Well even that I fled by car to Guinea with my brother, few cousins and grandmother, and aeroplane to The Gambia – the experience was non-existent in my memory, partly because I was young and partly due to all the chaos that surrounded it.

We landed safely in the United Kingdom.

Welled up with a mixture of fear, anxiety and joy, I didn't know what to expect.

My first real fear was the escalator…who made these moving monsters of a stair I thought to myself. Why so high and mighty…I am talking about the never-ending escalators at Gatwick. 

That’s no beginners’ affair.

I was terrified.

My younger teenage brother was more adventurous and before I could wink, he hopped on the escalator and shouted in the most exhilarating and ecstatic voice in our local parlance

‘’Na return ah day return, na ya me day. You na kam you kam’’

Pekin Noto Yase!

Wow…my first wave of embarrassment in London. This kid was unbelievable and utterly unfiltered.

This loud outburst commanded a few weird looks from strangers and onlookers but bless him.

The innocence of a child is bliss!

After his innocent outburst, I couldn’t help but laugh as I adjusted my shoes which now couldn’t fit because I had on my brother’s socks used as a double as my toes were numb and nipples hard as a softball.

I wasn’t doing too well with this transition thing.  Don’t think I’ve ever fully adjusted, even as I type this.

My brother, of course, landed safely at the other end of the escalator and was waving with so much pride and sense of achievement. I gave him a smile I mustered with all my strength amidst my fear at this point of never making it to the top of the escalator.

Bo na so London tan? Take me back bo. Ah beg, I’m sorry!

I was finally assisted by one of the guards at the airport…i made it people, I said I made it!

From my easy going life of simplicities and strings of Hakuna Matata to a swirl of what seemed like the Hunger Games.

Well damn!

No one told me London was going to be a series of hurdles for me to overcome.

Let’s face it if you have seen me in person I look like I can be blown away by the wind. I can barely walk in a straight line….I was never the sporty type!

And London was like…I got you! Ha!

At this very moment, my thoughts were…Doris, you’ve run out of options.

I was doomed! I could cry…

My mum and I locked eye.

When she saw me at first glance she screamed.

Not out of fear but disbelief as I looked so …so out of it.

I tell ya, I was losing it.

And it’s only been a couple of hours. Sierra Leone was sounding like a mighty fine option for me at this point.

Take me back...I thought to myself.

My mother grabbed me and took me into the bathroom, polished me and I came out looking like a fresh African Londoner. I even smelled like them.

This business was automatic.

I looked at myself in the mirror and I murmured …Presentable...I nodded to myself as I make my way out of the bathroom.

As we left the airport and happily skipped towards the carpark, I saw a gust of smoke escaped my mouth as I exhaled. I stopped talking and it escaped through my nostrils. I opened my mouth again, a bigger gust of cloud escaped.

This was no Cool Runnings but my oh my…it might as well be!

I had to ask. Why am I breathing smoke, to which my dad replied with the most annoying smirk, condensation but welcome to LONDON!

It was all a bit too much. What is this situation, I pondered.

Was it a cloud, steam, fog, vapour, frozen air?

I was looking like a winter dragon right about now. Huffing and puffing nuff cold steam.

I thought to myself, humans live in this condition. I had too many questions and was too embarrassed to ask.

I kept them in.

As we embarked on the long drive home from Gatwick airport, I noticed all the shades of greys. It was quiet, dark and gloomy.

And cold!

The roads were wider than my usual and cars smaller than my usual. The streets felt abandoned and only littered with car horns and blinding fog lights.

No humans. Just humans in cars.

I wasn’t ready. Na graveyard?

At this point I was thinking who have I offended in this life for me to deserve this?

The houses were like those in my storybook my parents used to send back home, but less colourful - all like miniature sized homes with similar characteristics.

Why are the houses so small? – I thought this was London, I thought hard to myself. Everything was supposed to be big and extravagant.

Bigger and better…

Well that was my perception anyway until my rude awakening.

I was baffled! I was swimming in trance…

I was wrong and looking at the sizes of the cars on the carefully paved roads  - I knew I was in for the shock of my life.

Please take me back! That unpaved road back in my country was all I could think of.

Yes to koto koto road.

I can endure that. Take me back!!

Back at the house, my mum had a rich and delicious spread of the most British palate, including fruits I’ve never seen and certainly didn’t know how to pronounce…whatever in the world was pomegranate? Why does it sound like a disease but looked like an oversized onion? (My hunger was screaming cassava leaves. It was a struggle)

Looking around my parents’ tiny abode, it was filled with so much love and joy. I suddenly realised we have been missing this for some time now.

My dad had the widest smile, my cousins intrigued and curious with a nervous anxiety, my grandmother elated, my sister silent in disbelief and I can just tell she was thinking ‘’why do I have to share space now with these two freshies, or maybe she was just pondering on her single child status being taken away…maybe just maybe she was equally intrigued and filled with questions.

She was both in shock and in silence.

From 32 degrees plus to minus 0

This cannot be real.

the only thing is....this was real, a bit too real for my liking.

I didn’t have nuts but they were definitely frozen by now!

The Story continues...

This is just the beginning.

Chronicles of a Granny Pekin – Growing up African

It is my grandmother’s birthday today. She is 82. I love this woman. She is the Maya to my Angelou. She is the anchor in my wild sea. She is my conscience to the destructive voice. She is the reason I want to be a better me. She is the reason I fight. If there was one person I was scared to let down, that would be my Grandma Ola. 

She is the reason…full stop!

She is a huge part of my life and anyone that knows Doris, knows Grandma Ola. So it is only right I dig up some sweet memories of the time we spent together back in Sierra Leone.

I grew up with my grandmother in Sierra Leone where we lived in a traditional colonial–era board house at Campbell Street. Everything I did was a reflection of my granny, even up to this day, consequently I was labelled granny pekin…especially in school.

Yup... I am a certified and bonafide granny pekin.

Grandma Ola is strict. She has a no nonsense streak about her that is not to be messed with. (Even our mothers don’t mess with her) She is a true disciplinarian and will stop at nothing. She is kind, honest and genuine. She is the definition of what you see is what you get. No hidden layers. Her facial expressions doesn't lie.

Virtuous Woman

As stern as she is, she is the most caring and loving woman I know. She is compassionate and a mother to all. She is packed with a wealth of wisdom which I admire. My granny is a virtuous woman. How someone so stern can be so loving and caring at the same time is actually a very powerful thing in my books.

In my early childhood, our parents left my brother and I at the mercy of our grandmother who we got to know too well after we started living with her. We thought it was a holiday until she took off the Mrs Nice guy cap and wore the captain’s hat. You know what they say, come stay with me and come visit me are two completely different things. Too right!

Boakai, my brother and I never saw what was to come. I was the quiet one and my brother well … he was more than a handful. To the point that people doubted in school if we both were related. I was quiet in comparison to my rebellious brother but I had my own share of stubbornness which wasn’t tolerated or encouraged by my grandmother.

Boakai & I on my 10th Birthday.
check my hat out - Granny pekin certified

We were provided with everything we needed but rudeness and disrespect was never tolerated. I was an ill child but that didn’t stop her from plastering few slaps across my face when I stepped out of line. The cane for my brother is normally soaked in water for days in order to increase the elasticity. When that registers on your skin…Only God can save you.

In that small board house, we lived comfortably and amicably. Even though it was crowded. I think the crowdedness got us to appreciate the little holes in the walls which we referred to as our air conditioner because I tell you…nights were sticky and hot! But guess what that taught us….contentment.

I had friends who were staying in bigger and better houses but not once did I recall me wanting to live in their houses. My granny never made us feel like we were missing out on anything.

Together with my other cousins, we all lived in this crowded board house where the bath and toilet were outside. So let me tell you now, if you need to do your business, you better do it right before the doors were bolted with several padlocks and blocked with mortar and pestle. (To prevent thieves…apparently) 

When that door closes, nothing opens it. To this very day I can tell you that I wee before bed and that’s a must and I never get up during the night. There are various types of disciplines but that was bladder discipline at its finest!

Have you ever taken a bath outside, under a running tap? Then you must add that to your bucket list. Bath time is an event in our household. My granny has zero tolerance towards bad body odour. Armpits were layered with lime and left to marinate for few minutes and the teeth is first scrubbed with charcoal before you can use your toothpaste and brush. There I learnt that my tongue is pink and not white! 

The Real MVP on them toes

This is done every Saturday as she tends to leave us during the week to do our little thing we do that we call bathing but in her books it’s rinsing. You don’t know squeaky clean until she has scrubbed you head to toe with the strongest scrub ever and your toes brushed with the ever-so-strong scrubbing brush.

After that all there’s left to do is sleep!  Now that was our lesson in cleanliness!

Saturdays are cleaning Saturday without fail and without questioning. The house must be swept, dusted, wiped and our little bath outside must be scrubbed and the gutter cleaned and the bins taken out. No hoovers!

Then you have the cooking chores where we help with the cooking preparations. No blenders or grinders. We used the mortar and pestle and the grinding stone to get things done. We had a stove but that was only used as an emergency option therefore that was a luxury. So Three-stone wood-fired stove it was.

Where the magic happened

We all thought this woman liked working for no reason and there were no happy faces around, just mere frowns and murmurs and when she sees that frown she will ask you to fix your face before she fixes it for you. Trust me, you do not want her to fix your face (more like dismantle)

As for the murmurs…when asked to repeat what we just said, we lie and say we weren’t talking to you. Yes you have to lie at this point to save your jawbones and teeth because they will all go flying and calling for help when that slap registers.

Now that taught us the importance of hard work.

Sundays were to stew as Saturdays were to foo-foo and Saturday soup, okra and the likes. Now the only problem is I love my cassava leaves and that Sunday stew was becoming my nightmare. I hated it but do I dare tell my grandmother? Nope…I swallow it like it’s my Sunday best. After which we all sit and listen to Bongo, a Sierra Leone radio comedy show. No TV!

I can tell you that I am a world class human dishwasher. When asked to wash dishes and bowls and kitchen utensils they all have to pass my grandma’s approval. If not then I’m sorry but you’re going to do it until you do it right….cheerfully too. Glasses and tumblers must be so clean that the water must not be seen dripping in layers...it should flow. Plates squeaky clean and bowls no sign of oil or smell from cooking ingredients. Her face must be seen in the reflection of the spoons. This taught us lesson on doing something well or don’t do it at all.

She instilled in us the importance of knowing God and being in the house of the Lord. Sundays were set aside for church. Period! If we couldn’t make it to church we prayed together and I can recite a lot of psalms in the bible. Psalms 23, 91, 123, 100 and more. As for the songs…don’t try me. Hehe. In everything in life, my grandmother encouraged us to pray about it first. This taught us to be grateful and never take things for granted.

My granny taught us simple courtesies, like serving tea and drinks with a saucer (I don’t see that these days) and waiting for the glass if need be. The please and thank you must never go unsaid. She taught us the eye language which she used anywhere and any day. That eye is your cue to stop whatever rudeness you’re up to, get your life together and register it in your brain that you’re about to have the whooping of a lifetime when you get home. That eye really does spoil your day…it’s like a warning of what is to come.

Still Magic...

When you get home, prepare yourself mentally because the slap or the whooping can happen anytime, yea even in your sleep. You’ll be there thinking you’re dreaming, no darling your being whooped for that misbehaviour.

After that she will then explain to you that it is for your own good and that you’ll thank her later. (Am I thanking her now…hmm I’m not sure man, I’m not sure. Lool) at that very moment, those words are not what you want to hear so your anger level rockets. But you have to sit still, keep a very broad smile on your face and nod accordingly. Now that was respect!

At school I never show up at all the parties. I wasn’t allowed. My friends know this. If I am invited somewhere and want to go, I must earn it. I mean all my house chores must be done and everywhere clean and tidy. I must be on my best behaviour all week and there was no room for errors because one mistake could mean I won’t be going to any social function and guess what, I can’t fight that decision. It’s final! 

And I had curfew too...which was 10pm! Imagine when the party starts, Doris is heading home.

Chronicles of a granny pekin!

Once I was invited to my friend’s birthday party, I gave my grandmother 3 weeks’ notice and a daily weekly reminder. I was the nicest grandchild that month. I did all I was told to do, came back home on time from school and my smile was exceptionally cheesy and bright. Yes all for an answer to this birthday party.

So the day came, I woke up earlier than usual and I did all I had to do. Scrub my mouth and greeted my grandmother good morning, (yes you weren’t allowed to say good morning with a smelly overnight mouth.) and she asked why are you up so early, I replied, no reason with the gummiest smile ever. But my granny is no fool, she knew what was up. She piled more chores on me and diligently I carried all out. All for a party. I really wanted to go so I had no choice.

It was approaching 4pm when I started getting dressed slowly and her reaction nearly gave me a heart attack. She was like where do you think you’re going? (The eyes came out too.)

To which I replied, the party I told you about, my friend’s birthday. I said you promised I could go if I did all my house chores. (Her head did a U-turn and the eyes changed again only this time she squinted it as if she was trying to see if I’m ok in the head, her body did a little vibration) she went quiet and I nearly peed my pants (yep, an African parent’s promise holds no guarantee.) she did this thing where her breathing goes with her eyes and she tilted her screw face at me and I tell ya my eyes started running water (because I wasn’t sure if I was crying or just fearing for my life at this point)

She leaned forward and whispered calmly, take that clothes off, you’re going nowhere. I nearly collapsed. My heart sunk and now I started shedding real tears like I lost my dog.

Tremulously I said but you promised! It was after I uttered the words that I wondered where I summoned that bravery from. I quickly recollected myself and my face flushed with regret.

She was walking away when she stopped dead in her tracks and gave me the eye one more time. That was to say I am finished with you.

Few minutes later after I was done crying, I was in a corner sulking when she walked in on me with a plate of biscuits and a pint of Vimto (she knew Vimto was my favourite) and she was like, why would you want to go out? You don’t want to keep my company? Is it for the food or the drink? Then she offered me the plate and the Vimto while saying if it is for the food, here you go eat or the drink, take this cold Vimto and drink. Oh wait the music? She went on and put the radio on with a smile on her face.

I can’t say I didn’t laugh, I laughed (because that’s what you do) but I was still upset. I went to school the next day and faced the most dreaded question…why weren’t you at the party? They all knew the answer so I thought to just say it one more time. My grandma said I wasn’t allowed and the tales of what I missed started rolling out.

That was my life…I wasn’t allowed to show up at every occasion. And to this day I choose where I go because once upon a time, granny said ‘’you don’t have to show up everywhere.’’

Boys were more scared of my grandma than they were of my dogs...and we had lots of dogs.

It wasn't easy.

We are such a large family but my grandmother is the cotton tree. She keeps everyone grounded and everything centred. No matter how angry or stubborn you are when she intervenes, she will solve it with her carefully selected words of wisdom, you tend to see things in different perspective and with a large family, you learn that it is not always about you. Grandma Ola taught us family values and up to this day we are a closed knitted family despite everything. 

Family is all we’ve got.

She showed no favouritism towards anyone. We were all equal in her eyes. We were rewarded for good behaviour and good grades in school as she always emphasises the importance of education. Rose Apple was our favourite treat which was divided into four pieces and shared amongst us.

She taught us the true meaning of love. My grandmother loves me endlessly. There are things I question in my life but one thing I will never question is her love for me. She expresses her love at every given opportunity. She will check that I have enough to eat and drink at all times. She will make sure my clothes on my back are clean, hair braided and I smell good. She knows when I am about to fall ill, she is observant, attentive and always present. She will stand up for us when need be and never allow anyone to take advantage of us…not even our mothers.

Up to this day, her love for me still stands strong. She will call up and check on me regularly, ask if I’m keeping warm, visit me in the hospital and she never fails to leave half of her sandwich for me from her breakfast every Sunday. She will always have her scarf ready to hand me when I’m cold.

A love like that…. Unconditional and incomparable.

My grandma taught me how to bridle my tongue. To this present day, I do not swear at no one. I’m not saying I am a saint, I do use the words every now and again because I am rebellious like that but I do not swear at people. Never! In my grandma’s eyes, that was a no go! No compromise and no excuses. She was a disciplinarian but she never believed in vulgarity. This taught us the importance of words and the effect it has on people. The tongue is a powerful weapon.

As a granny of creole descendant, Grandma Ola communicated mostly in parables and I must say I learnt because there are few parables I can’t decipher. Yup, chronicles of a granny pekin.

We later moved to my grandmother’s newly built three-storey concrete house where we were living it up large. From oven to washing machine to hoovers and microwave...it was fully furnished and equipped. No more bath outside…YAY! Yea I was happy because I was getting to that age where I needed my privacy but my grandmother didn’t think so though…lol In an African household, you’re forever a child….regardless!

We came from humble beginnings which helped shape and mould our characters. Today I am a content and happy girl, seen it all. Been there done that and I won’t change a thing. (Maybe reverse some of the whoopings….yea!)

My childhood was great and I never felt like I missed anything. All I needed, was provided. Today, Material things do not move me but a good character in a person entices me and I do not value material things over people. Yea all thanks to my grandmother.

My foundation was solid for that I am grateful. I am implementing all these values in my daily life and I am ever so grateful for such upbringing.

If this is what they mean when they labelled me granny pekin…then I gladly claim the title.

I haven’t turned out too bad….hehe

And more importantly, my grandmother approves and that’s all that matters.  (She’s only waiting on the great grand kids now)

And I will pass these values on to them….by God’s grace!

Unconditional Love

Grandma Ola I wish you many more years to come in good health because at this stage in your life, all you need is more years in good health. I love you and I love you.

Till then

Xoxo

My True Warriors and Fighters...

Living with sickle cell…

It might not be labelled cancer. It might not be diabetes but it is a disease. It is affecting people, young lives and it’s a struggle living with it.

It is Sickle Cell Anaemia.

Be Enlightened

Personally I think you haven’t met with pain till you’ve suffered from sickle cell and you lay there helplessly with not a drug in sight strong enough to cure or ease your pain.

Have you ever woken up and your biggest decision of the day is whether you want to continue living or not because your pain is so unbearable and you do not wish to prolong your sufferings anymore?

Be In The Know...

 Have you gone to bed well and healthy only to wake up few hours later with the most excruciating pain ever throbbing and gnawing at every organs in your being?

How many times have you asked God to take your life because your hope and faith ran short? You light at the end of the tunnel wouldn’t come on? Or you just feel there’s nothing left to live for? How many times?

Try and Understand

Have you laid in hospital bed for weeks, in pain, life at a standstill, crying nonstop as pain slowly gobbles you away?

Ever made plans, packed your bag, called your friends, bought your tickets and all but you couldn’t make it because you went into crisis few hours before your flight and ended up at the hospital?!

Ever woke up and even to dial an ambulance becomes an impossible task because you’re in so much pain and you can’t move, not even a finger?

Did You Know...

Jourdan Dunn's Son Riley Battles with Sickle Cell too?

Ever seen tears in your mother’s eye because she can’t ease your pain and the only thing left for her to do is to sit and blame herself tirelessly as you wail helplessly in intense aches and pain?

You go through one blood transfusion after another and the back of your hand is full of scars from countless needle drills from nurses and doctors trying to find your veins.

You have to watch the type of activities you participate in constantly, watch what you eat and you don’t dare miss a day of your penicillin and folic acid.

Did You Know?
Larenz Tate battles With Sickle Cell Too

Your life is no longer yours, well if you’re brave enough… you screw the odds and dare to have a life!

In severe pain, you crawl to the door because you live alone and you need to let the paramedics in. Do you understand that level of pain?

You walk into gathering and you have people asking you why your eyes are yellow? It gets tiring and exhausting.

You’re looked upon as an invalid and a disabled person to the point where everyone worries about you standing for a long time or not dressing warm enough in the cold or even not eating right or simple thing as not drinking enough water.

Sarah Stevens
A Soldier...a Fighter...a Survivor!

Have you tried saying the Lord’s Prayer and you totally forgot how to? A prayer you learnt since you were 7 but in time of distress and pain you can’t even remember how to say the first few lines so you ask your teary-eyed mum by your bedside to do it for you. Yea imagine that.

Does the mention of word spleen scares the shit out of you? Well to me it does.

 

It Sure Does...

Your handbag, purses and wallets looks and smells like a walking pharmacy because you don’t know when next that cruel pain will make a comeback. You never really know and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Sometimes we suffer stunted growth, big protruding stomach and constant loss of weight but you don’t understand and you will want to ask me why am I so skinny or if I’m pregnant or where does all my food goes. Stop!

You have to tell your university or work place that you have been admitted….again and again and again and most of the time no one believes you. You’re on your own. Exhausting!

Manty Marah
A Soldier. A Survivor

Some days I will chose to act like a soldier and drag myself out of bed only for you to see me and assume I am lazy or I do not have a care in the world. You look at my life and made your judgements. Walk in my shoes please and tell me how that feels.

What do you know about morphine and painkillers? We know all the names and their after and side effects. Yes a sickle cell patient lives on painkillers.

Francis Davies

A Fighter. A survivor

You look in the mirror sometimes and all you see is sickle cell stealing the melody from your life and you’re wondering when the music is going to stop. Washing away your sense of accomplishments… One raging pain at a time.

A Fighter and a Survivor!

You just have to be a soldier for yourself. One strong, hopeful soldier.

You walk into your local hospital and the doctors and nurses know you by name, even the cleaners and chefs know your specialties. Hospital is not home and no one should be that frequent there.

Some days you wake up and you’re fit for nothing. You’re not ready for the world because your breathing is not right, or your ankle hurts so bad you can’t walk, or sometimes you’re tired, just really really tired but you won’t understand.

You watch your peers drop dead, one after the other and you’re thinking, am I next?

You can’t live like everyone else, there is a limit to what you can do, the distance you can walk and the places you can go and how many kids you can have. Your existence is practically limited.

N'mama Dao
A Fighter. A Survivor

Pray it’s not the two of you with the disease in the same family because then you have to watch the other in pain and guess what You can’t do anything to help them and the worst part is you knowing the severity of the pain she’s going because you’ve been there. A mother’s tragedy.

Woe betide you fall in love with someone who has sickle cell. Then you have the heart throbbing decision of whether you chose to be in love and have no kids or break up and find someone else.

It doesn’t end there, you have to deal with people who do not have a clue what sickle cell anaemia is so they think it’s contagious. They keep away from you and treat you different.

You have employers who think Sickle cell anaemia automatically renders you unreliable therefore you become unemployable…you’re already at a disadvantage in life because of something that you didn’t chose, something you have no say in, something that was genetically imposed on you.

But most time we don’t complain, we go on steadily, fighting every pain and beating every symptoms because we know that is our life now. We learn to live with it and manage it. Most people do not understand what it takes for a sickle cell patient to go through each day.  Most people do not understand and frankly I do not blame them. Much attention is not given to sickle cell patients, neither is much sensitization given.

A Disease Known Is Half Cured

You fight for each day and each hour of your life because you never know when the next crisis (sickle cell pain) will hit you. But no one understands.

This is not a pity party. We are not crying for help. We do not want you to feel sorry for us. We are not asking for your tears. We want you to understand, we want you to be considerate. We want you to be enlightened.

Be nice. Play nice. Life is hard already, we do not need anyone to make it harder.

Personally I have the utmost respect for every sickle cell patient out there. You’re a soldier. You’re fighter. I know what it means to get up and find meaning in each passing day. Keep going and screw the odds.

Inonu Khyne-Sam
A Living Testimony. A Survivor. A Fighter

Even if we have to do this daily, we will because it is our life and we have accepted it. No cure but with the help of God, we are managing just fine.

We are going to be just fine

And when you feel the storms of life assails remember, God never gives you a load that you can’t bear.

Again I say…this is not a pity party!

With this, i'll like to say thanks and express gratitude to all the people helping us, from the doctors to the hospital chefs, from our parents to relatives, to our friends and to every passing stranger who have rendered help.

We say thank you and we do not take you for granted.

I Salute Each And Everyone Of You Warriors.

Continue The Good Fight Of Faith!

... and to the beautiful souls we've lost, May your gentle souls rest in perfect peace. 

Till then 

Xoxo

Where Is God When It Hurts ?!

RIP Beautiful Souls!

  ...dedicated to two beautiful souls lost in the pace of a fortnight. 

How do you handle that? How do you even begin to process that thought? How? But it happened and life does take unexpected turns and the saddest part is, we are never ready!

I had the privilege of meeting this young man when my cousin got married into their family. Jovial, bubbly, friendly, accommodating and he will keep you laughing like a village idiot. We quickly gelled, I mean what better way to make acquaintance than through laughter?!

I was a bridesmaid and he was a groomsman, you can imagine the kind of fun and laughter we shared together with the other bridal party.

If I have to describe Victor, the first word that will spring to my mind is funny. He never ceases to make me laugh. He is going to be missed. He will be missed, not by a few but multitudes. Believe me when I say so. He was a personality! He was a walking ball of sunshine.

You Never Know The Last Time..

The other soul that was lost was my uncle Raymond, through a family friend. He was helpful, always willing, jovial, bubbly and full of jokes. He came into our lives for a short while and was gone in a twinkle of an eye. He was the type of person that wouldn’t hurt a fly. He came, shone and left a trace of sparkle in the lives of the people he touched. A man of integrity. Death! Why?

We have no control over death..none at all!

My question is where’s God? Where is God when it hurts?

Times like these my faith wavers. I’m scared. I’m angry. I’m frustrated. I’m sad. I’m speechless. I’m in shock. My mind can’t stop racing. I question everything. You can’t help but ask the formidable question why?

I know I am not supposed to question God’s ways. I know I am not supposed to ask God why but two beautiful souls in the same month is kinda hard to fathom. I can’t comprehend why the beautiful souls finish first. I can’t understand the logic behind that. I am human after all.

Is my faith supposed to stand strong in the midst of all these? Where do you lift up your eyes? Why does all the beautiful people finish first? Why oh why. I guess I will never find answers to some questions.

Young souls. Young lives. Gone in the blink of an eye. We were not ready. The struggle is real but so is God. I am learning the hard way to trust God more.

This just confirmed few things for me.

• Nothing is certain in life, nothing is guaranteed.
• We never know the day nor the hour, nor the minute when death will knock
• Treat everyone like it’s the last you’re seeing of them
• Don’t wait. Don’t hesitate. Don’t think too much to say what’s on your mind to people
• Tell the people you care about that you love them and show them
• We do not have tomorrow
• Live life to the fullest
• Just because you’re a good person doesn’t mean you’ll die last.
• Grow in the word of God, go closer to God.
• Make every day worth the while
• Be nice, be patient, speak with caution because people are out here fighting battles you know nothing about.
• Try not to be a jerk, treat people nice
• If your motto for living is YOLO then I pray that you do it right, hurt no one and tread with caution

A Reminder...

I won’t give you a list for living because I myself I am just trying to figure it out. I know nothing about life, these sudden deaths just left me lost and unfounded in the deep blue sea. But in all things just try. These rapid deaths have given me a new perspective on life. For every time I lose someone it makes me think how blessed I am but also the thought of it could have been me always makes me grateful that I have been given another chance to get it right. I pray we all do.

Take off those Limits you've Set For Yourself
Free Your Soul

With that I just want to wish everyone a blessed day. Love more. Be kind. Have patience.

You Will Linger In Our Hearts Forever!
Sleep on and take your rest.

Till next time

Xoxo