A talented writer who loves presenting stories from personal experience. My writing is very interesting and fascinating. with a sense of reality, bringing audiences and readers into a world of untold viewpoints, distinguishing between preconceptions and myths, and recognising our range of viewpoints in order to gain a deeper comprehension of our environment.I enjoy writing/learning more about a variety of subjects. However, the majority are personal pieces that portray ordinary experiences, mindfulness, fiction, and other things. As a writer, my objective is to leave a lasting positive impression on my audience by educating, entertaining, inspiring, sharing, and provoking thinking.
Strong, or better say strength. In my experience of life to date, I have admired the zeal with which people navigate out of their struggles, and I never fail to applaud such individuals that surpassed their unforeseen and unfortunate circumstances through sheer determination and strength. Many times I have looked back in wonder and admiration at how things that were meant to kill us only made us stronger.Knowing that none is coming to save me, I have no option other than to save myself, for one may not know how strong one is until being strong becomes the only option. Reason I titled my unfinished book The Beauty of the Inner Strength (coming soon)
Personally, I am not among those that schedule their daily routines because mine are naturally scheduled. I came home late this morning after eight hours of work and couldn’t sleep because I had to work online, which took about two hours only to find myself in bed by six am. I hardly closed my eyes before being woken by the sound of my family. My spouse says it’s time for school as my lovely daughters jump all around me. It’s already 8pm. Drop them off at school and rush home to nap only to realise it’s already noon and they will soon be home again. So what else am I doing this evening being the only free time I have if not to spend it with my family, especially my younger daughters, as I will be leaving for work in the few hours? Taking advantage of my presence in their lives to create beautiful memories together, knowing that time is of the essence ❤️
What personality trait in people raises a red flag with you?
Dishonesty . I am no saint and can never exonerate myself of this act, but it’s never as a trait . As an introvert, I detest talks that don’t elevate my dreams and better my soul.Having a smaller circle of friends, I never mind it getting smaller as long as they are all honest people. Also not a mind reader or soothsayer, but many times I could tell when one is dishonest or lying in their communication.immediately draws a red flag. Nothing is worse than having people in our lives who are untrustworthy and deceitfully insincere, whose motives for being around are to take advantage of our trust and exploit and also mislead us.Staying true to my values, I am of the belief that having one or two people that are honest is better than a thousand personality traits of dishonesty and lying. Reasons for my smaller circle
My dream week …I always wait until the last minute to find out how my weeks will go.My perfect week could only be determined at the eleventh hour because I work the night shift and return home only to care for my two lovely young girls, regardless of how exhausted I am. What appears to be a picture-perfect week could be spoilt at the last minute, so it’s never about the stresses that come with the beehives activities at work and at home, but rather energy that complement it. The best scenario would be to spend time with my family, work in a setting that allows for some flexibility, and then curl up on my bed with blankets after a successful week… or better say an ideal week
I know I am relaxed…It’s something I seldom have because even when I am less busy, I am not still relaxed. Most days that I find lucky, I will light my spiff with two or three puffs and calm country music in the background. I desist myself from everything else wearing me down and out and enjoy the beauty of presence. Apparently appreciating the wonderful things in my life, even the smallest things that make the present moment. I may be relaxed while having an evening walk or sitting in my backyard admiring the highs and lows of how life could have been worse, but it’s not . Relaxation to me is spiritual because it recharges and renews my being. Many at times I wander into the future with ease guided by the lessons of my past. I know I am relaxed when my spirit and body are at peace, irrespective of my circumstances.
If you had to give up one word that you use regularly, what would it be?
Fuck is the word. It’s my means of expressing anxiety, stress, and unease. How ever it’s another word to relate my indifference in a situation that offers no benefit. So many times I detest myself for my inability to limit its use for time without numbers. I have used it the word fuck in front of my young, beautiful daughters . Lately I managed to curb this addiction of words, knowing that anger and anxieties trigger it. I tried to abscond situations that would lead to it.
Children are priceless gifts irrespective of the circumstances by which they are conceived; their birth is thrilled with emotions and awesomeness. Life is more precious and immaculate at birth, which explains the overwhelming protections assigned to kids at tender ages.
Why have a child of which fatherly access would be denied from you in the future!? It’s a million questions every male black migrant in Europe must consider before contemplating having a child… It is perceived mostly by black male migrants that one of the easiest ways of obtaining a resident permit is by having a child together with a female citizen of the country of residence. Even without a proper knowledge of the said lady or country’s laws in regards to the benefits that accrue from fatherhood, which is not enough reason in my perspective. The future of our children should be our priority and must be considered in our every-day decisions even prior to their birth.
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I was on the phone yesterday with a friend that was deported to Nigeria from Austria. 🇦🇹last month I was unable to sustain the conversation for a longer period because of the tones of his language and the bitterness in his voice. Suddenly he was crying deeply. His pain was not the deportation but his three grown children that he may likely not see again. I could remember early 2011 how happy he was and often seen with his three beautiful and handsome kids two girls and a boy. He was indeed a careering father not one of the irresponsible ones. Every one of us that newly came admired him and wished to be like him . A dream lot of us are thankful for not coming through today because of the high rate of deportation of male black migrants that have childrein Europe without their children at any slightest misdemeanor ),s) even the most lenient ones.Crimes are not good irrespective of reasons behind them, I hereby condemn it in every way, but however when a man with a family is involved the punishment should be separated from his entire family, his crime should not be used as a yardstick to destroy the lives of his children by perpetually taking his presence away from them in way of deportation and banishment after serving his terms in correctional facilities. The trauma effects experienced by young people of color whose parents (especially fathers) are deported and banned from entering the county even on a visit is unjustifiable to children with good relationships with their fathers; it results in total breakdowns of behavior, morals and leads to crime in return. Some people argue that the pain of divorces and child custody fights among people of color in
Some people argue that the pain of divorces and child custody fights among people of color in Europe is equivalent to that of deportation, but it’s not true. Though it’s quite unfortunate that most people of color do not consider the well-being and the future of their child/children in their decision. However, deportation and child custody are totally different issues and not compared. Truth be told, the majority of mixed race children in Europe hitherto either do not *have a father*, do not know who their father is*, do not know where their father is*, and do not have a fatherly upbringing.
In other words, their father is either barred by the system, denied access, incarcerated or deported, or decided not to participate in the nurturing Their kids.
Be that as it may
Then I ask! Why have children? It’s true that people are of different reasoning, and also circumstances play some roles every now and then, but whatever the reason, we should not trade our children as a means rather than an end. it’s high time people of color especially(males)stop trading the future of their children for residents permit which does not confer an equal rights enjoyed by the citizens of their said country of residence. And if you must raise family in this part of the world save your child/children the future torture of your absence either in correctional facilities or deportation by not going against the law of the land of which you resides..Our children are our continuity may we never be found missing in their lives and may we never deny them the benefit of fatherhood ❤️
Having lost my father, I became a changed man—exactly what happened to me when I had my daughter, but in the opposite direction.
The two strongest forces of life. The indispensable mysterious opposite forces on earth that bring joy and pain Yet it’s the circle ⭕️ of life, birth, and death. My daughter’s birth brought so much happiness—a different kind that I never knew existed. Becoming a father for the first time in life was an experience that swept me off my feet even as it exposed me to many responsibilities that could not be neglected.
Traveling home to meet this adorable gift from God for the first time got me fantasizing, and holding her in my arms and playing with her always had me in awe. ***Omalicha daddy Ya *** Momila, maama, chimama pet names I call her as she smiles in response each time she hears one. Eating together and doing all sorts of things makes me happy and fulfilled; those are the memories that are worth more than gold.
However, once I came back to Nigeria, my parents, knowing that I was back, would immediately call to know when I was coming down to visit them in the village. Knowing the friendly and awesome relationship I have with them, especially my father, I always felt joy visiting them, as many would always lodge in hotels. When back from abroad, I did the opposite: I slept and woke with them, ate and worked with them in the same house, talked, played, and did so many home chores as much as I could.
My parents have a way of teasing us with pet names. Booyiant, a British man, and Eze ndi igbo na Denmark were pet names my father calls me, and I reciprocate with smiles just as my daughter does when I call her. Knowing fully well that I don’t get such opportunities, often I try using them judiciously, and it makes them so happy. Most times I see the look on their faces when neighbors ask or visit and ask them. *** Dee m Ogu/Justina * Did you children come back?
Sometimes friends that don’t know our family when they see us together would ask
Are these your children?? The look on their faces and response would have had me smiling. *** Yes, they are my children; this is the one that resides in Spain, and this is the one that resides in South Africa.
Happiness written all over their faces for our visits makes us want to visit them more. Having shared great memories from tender age to hitherto, I would not dare exchange it for anything.
Worth more than gold are good memories ❤️
As we grow older, one tends to understand what is really important and what is less important. The unexpected death of my father brought pains that I never knew existed, and as I am yet to believe that fact, I would never see or share the beautiful moments with him again. The painful experience had me rediscover and redefine my priorities.
In our quest for a better life, we should endeavor to create a balance and not forget to spend time with our loved ones, especially our wives, husbands, children, parents, and siblings. Give them what to hold on to and remember when death knocks. In as much as I could remember my conversations with my late father, his gifts, and the memories of time spent together, it was my personal experience of life with him, which I would cherish as long as I lived.
Life is what happens while you are busy doing other things, but the question is:. ***What are you actually doing?***
Me…# Babe But Chimama has said she kept it back, and I believe her. Maybe I don’t know.
Like a missfired bullet; baeoflife.^so i dont know what am saying?? She asked me irronically, She is right and I am wrong.” Is that what you’re saying? She enquired yet again!!
I submitted like a surrendered soldier. Me* Babe, no no, thats not it. I didn’t mean it that way, even with her facial expressions indicating she was trying so hard to withhold her laughter, pretending to keep a mean face😂 as she climbed stairs to the kids room.
Munites later Babe Babe, I heard Bae of Life‘s voice calling me. I have found the lip gloss in Chimara’s drawer, and she still remembers not keeping it here. She continued. Immediately, I called Omalicha and told her that it was possible that she forgot how she misplaced it, but her confoundence coupled with her body posture couldn’t deny her innocence. Come on, girls, it’s time to bathe. It’s bedtime. said their mom The kids hurried down to the couch, playing as their mom organized their room before bathing. Having bathed and dressed in their pinjamas, Omalicha and her sister Boo-boo came running to me simultaneously, saying they wanted to stay a little while with me before going to bed. Omalicha is leaning on my right hand, and her sister is on my left hand side.
Done with their room, Babe, they can now go to bed.^said Baeoflife^
I woke Omalicha with almost closed eyes, while Akuoma was still awake at the moment. They all stood up and went to bed. I quickly eased myself, already tired from staying with them all day. How was work today? I asked Bae of life with relief as we continued the conversation while looking at her beautiful smiles, radiating beauty and love all over the household 😍🥰. It wasn’t a few minutes before she started answering that
Akuoma came down, speaking lowly and calmly, “I want to stay with my dad,” while her mom tried to cajole her into going back to bed, which made her cry out a little more. Seeing how she struggled to go back, I called her and carried her in my arms while petting her all along. (beautiful moment of family life)❤️🥰😍😘
Having vacumed the house few hours before she came back from her last shift, the kids and I had been running around the house in errands, cautioning, loving, learning, cooking, playing also beginning to understand each other better (life)
The doorbell rang, and the kids jumped, shouting,Mommy, We all already know it was Baeoflife .. welcome Babe, i said as the kids hugs her in happiness of her return.., before jokingly running back to shouting **runnaway is strenger runnaway its strenger as We all laughed wholeheartedly🥰😁😃 .. ( the beauty of family life).
Baeoflife..*chimara, where did you keep the liplose that you took off of my jacket yesterday? I need it!
I kept it back in your jacket mommy. She replied her mom.
Baeoflife..** My initial search this morning before heading to work was for it, even though it’s not in my pocket. It’s unbelievable to think that I might have lost it . She carried on
I bet that Omalicha kept it back 😁. I Said shortly in respons to her curious Face on me
The Sweet scents of family life❤️
I realised I had been swept up in the crossfire as the discussion went on with baeoflife (baeoflife a nickname Call my Wife and she love it ❤️😁), and my daughter, Omalicha Daddy Ya
Baeoflife… Babe i have warned these your kids to stop searching through my bags and taking anything.😂☺️ But they are not listening .. Babe please talk to Them oh🥰☺️( fatherly presence) with
Smiles all over my face i replied promising to speak with Omalicha and boo-boo❤️🥰
the untold Realities 