My grandmother’s mark!

What tattoo do you want and where would you put it?

“No two stories are the same, and neither are their expressions.”

I’m thinking about getting my third tattoo, but I’m not sure what, where, or when.

The history of tattoos can be traced back to ancient times. As a young child, I was unable to understand the significance of my grandmother’s mark on her right arm, but I could still recall it. Although they had different names for it than “name tattoos,” I was unaware that it was even called a tattoo at the time.

Just as each of us is distinct due to our varied personalities, experiences, and backgrounds, so too are our modes of expression.

A tattoo is a permanent, irreversible design, mark, or text that is applied to the skin by injecting pigment and is used for cultural marking, self-expression, or remembrance. stamping, branding, and body art. They frequently represent personal beliefs, such as an anchor for stability, a bird for freedom, or a phoenix for rebirth; however, because they are susceptible to removal, they are no longer permanent.

Recalling my first tattoo, which I may not reveal for security reasons, was the result of experience, tenacity, faith, and success—though not without luck and God, which I recently acknowledge. While some people would rather have their tattoos visible in an open area, I prefer distinctive, neutral locations that are neither open nor hidden. A written statement that strengthened my struggle for survival and calmed my heart. Despite the fact that it was poorly styled, I adored it. I’ve been asked a few times what your tattoo means, and the most lovely thing about it is that I came up with the words, so it was a prototype. You are in control of your world if you conquer your fears.

My second tattoo came many years after my first; unlike the first, it was a Pinterest arrow depicting success born of adversity. I discovered it online and adore it because of its unique design and simplicity. However, like the first, it was placed on a part of my body that is neither hidden nor visible. My young daughters have frequently inquired as to what it means and why I had them, but due to their age, I read it aloud and explained the drawing for peaceful protest, knowing that until they reach adulthood, they will struggle to understand its meaning and purpose, just as I was unable to understand the markings on my grandmother’s arms. However prior to my adulthood I felt uncomfortable being around people with obvious markings (tattoos) for no apparent reasons until I learned to not judge people whose stories I knew nothing about.

As a result, considering my third tattoo, what and where is futuristic and certain but not imminent? I haven’t decided what to have or where to put it, but it will undoubtedly be measured and characterized by a purpose not dissimilar to the previous ones, but this will be of great significance and importance because of the magnitude of greatness and success that I have witnessed beyond difficulties .

No grief compared..

Losing a loved one

I couldn’t concentrate at work today; I have a lot of emotions running through my soul. My eyes were full of questions my mouth couldn’t express, and I found myself holding my grief inside, even when my heart cried out for help. Maybe I am no longer the person I used to be—strong, enduring, and proactive. But even strong people can break.

If I could own my time like before, I would have called it a day and gone home. Yet here I am, lost in a sea of a million “why” and “why not.” It amazes me how people cannot see the internal struggles and unhappiness that others are facing. Even at a breaking point, they still demand favors and help from me. At times, I wonder why people think I am fine, as if I have no worries, no troubles. Perhaps it’s because I don’t openly share my concerns or ask for help.

In memory of my lovely sister Oge. (Written 11 August 2025.19:59) Rest in peace Nnem 💔

Today, I’ve spent more time talking to myself than to any of my colleagues, hiding my emotions to keep them from probing into my problems. But this heaviness is hard to bear. I’ve cried a few times and quickly wiped away my tears. I’ve had a terrible time, but no grief compares to losing a loved one.

My sister Oge, I still can’t believe you are gone. 😭 As I write this on the bus home from work, my heart races and my eyes fill with tears over your passing. Nnem, I am no longer myself. I may not have answers to the million questions in my head, but I trust that God knows what is best. Rest in peace, Aunt M. 😭Indeed, I am heartbroken again. Rest in peace Nnem💔

You are a different animal, nothing less.

Which animal would you compare yourself to and why?

The rain elapsed, followed by a slight sunshine. Having been home all day due to the reduction in job demand by the company I currently work for, I was among those laid off till further notice. Cold and jittery, my mind took the greater part of me. It has been raining all through this month, to the surprise of everyone. Where does the hall of mountain sunshine seem to be suddenly becoming a cold water forest? Maybe it’s climate change. Madrid, the center of Europe, has monotonous weather.

What again is this topic about? * Which animal would I compare myself to and why?

I quickly stepped outside the gate to grace the noon sun, which pelted my spirit and soul and had me in the same position with my body fighting over the best position, which was most enjoyable. Putting my face up directly to the rays of sunlight, eyes closed, wishing that I could be made to lie down in my position for a long period of time, though I was only in front of my house building, resting partially on a parked vehicle. Many passersby understood the importance of the sun to me, judging by their looks towards me, of which I paid no attention. Suddenly there was a bird noise, which reminded me of a particular bird back then in my hometown, usually heard early afternoon and evening, a unique one though. However, that is not the type of animal I am or like to be compared with, but I love its gentle and peaceful nature.

Irrespective of your kind,no animal survives alone.

Even as the memories of hunting them for food in the past resonated in my mind, something I frown at currently because I believe that every animal has the right to life. There sit two birds of the same feather, like the usual words (they flock together), but something stood out that had me in awe, even to the point of taking my mind away from these golden rays of sunshine. I looked furiously towards the birds sitting on telephone cables; it appeared that they were young couples or friends of opposite sexes. It was my first time seeing such intimacy between such animals, even in humans. At first they spoke to each other in their language, then kissed passionately. I became confused because I never believed my eyes. Then they mated, after which they caressed each other by picking each other’s feathers, even to the extent of laying their heads on each other. I froze at my position, not realizing how long I had been gazing at these wonderful birds. Maybe the universe was talking to me indirectly about how life, courtship, friendship, and marriage should be, or maybe I am lost in my own thoughts. I quickly ran inside, having enjoyed the sun and the birds’ companionship…

As humans, we are nothing less than a different animal, but whichever you choose to be, or compared with! Let it be with love, openness, and tolerance for one another; For irrespective of your kinds, no animal survives alone.

One mistake away..

Experience not always the best teacher

Scrolling through my phone as the bus idled in traffic, I had just finished a long day at work, feeling tired and hungry. I couldn’t wait to get home. I decided to check my blog for today’s writing prompt. I hadn’t posted in a while due to circumstances beyond my control, but today’s prompt intrigued me. Unlike the usual repetitive questions or topics, it asked me to share a lesson I wish I had learned earlier.

This topic struck a chord with me and prompted deep reflection. A mix of contempt, anxiety, pressure, and regret washed over me, leaving me uncertain of where my thoughts were headed, but I knew it was not toward a desired destination. I paused and glanced at the prompt again. My mind filled with glimpses of my past—unfulfilled dreams and aspirations that sharply contrasted with my current life. Emotions and frustrations bubbled up within me. I couldn’t help but think about what I could have done better. Route I should not have taken. Every wrong hasty decision. We are one mistake away from a total different experience called life

One decision away from a different life ✌️

If I could turn back time, I would exercise more patience and thoughtfulness in my decisions and actions, even though the circumstances leading to those choices were often sincere and offered limited options. Unfortunately, no amount of regret can reclaim the time spent unwisely.

To me, a lesson is a period of instruction to learn a skill, or an experience that yields valuable insights for future safety and well-being. While I believe in learning from the experiences of others, life often teaches us its own lessons, regardless of how patient, thoughtful, and careful we try to be. We are always just one decision away from a radically different life, which is why it’s essential to exercise patience in our choices. Every decision comes with consequences, and patience can save us from many mistakes and much misery.

I was drawn back by the sudden stop of the bus and was surprised it approached my stop on time, despite the heavy traffic. I felt eager to be greeted by my children and spouse, whose presence not only brings me joy but also eases every atom of regret that has led them to my life.

The value of presence

Describe one habit that brings you joy.

*Memories make a great Dad*

I am starving, Daddy! Could you please help me dish some food? she said.

“You can serve yourself after all you served yourself earlier today,” I replied.

“But Dad, I couldn’t this time. Please help me out!”

I got up from the couch where I was sitting with her younger sister, who was resting on my arm, pretending to sleep. “Chizzy, wait! I will be back,” I said as I laid her down properly on the couch and covered her with a blanket. I went straight to the kitchen, dishing out rice and stew, then returned to the couch to continue what I was doing.

Prior to her request, I had been contemplating writing a blog post about the habits that bring me joy. Sundays are particularly special because I am off from wor, unlike week days when I’m often busy with work while Saturdays serve for overtime. This gives me ample time to spend with my family, especially my two young daughters, ages 4 and 6.

Very early this morning, both of them came out of their room to sleep on my bed. Although it was uncomfortable for me, as I had to squeeze like sardines in a can, I could never imagine telling them not to be there or to go back to their room.

Again, what habits bring me joy?

Weekends, especially Sundays, are always special. We have so much time together, knowing this opportunity comes just once a week. We did skits, ran around, played together, enjoyed ice cream, watched movies, and studied. Now they are both tired and hungry. Unfortunately, their mom went out for work, leaving me to care for them alone. Tomorrow, I will leave very early in the morning before dawn, missing the chance for our morning greetings like we had today.

As I write this, Omalicah, my daughter, is still eating her dinner while her sister is resting on my arm, waiting for their mom to come back before going to bed. Yes, these habits give me immense joy as a parent. The joy of nurturing my children, being present, and watching them grow under my care and guidance are habits that not only bring me joy but also make me feel fulfilled.

The reason I was stressed!

(poem)..The poem was inspired by the writer’s experience—a dad with two lovely young daughters. It narrates the anxiety and pressure that come from working far from home, Watford to Borehamwood

Work

I was stressed from working

Though I did not walk..

Early morning wake-up

Without enough sleep

To catch the early bus

Before my time is up

*A route and my routine

My work and my walk.*

On bus to work

Though I am not the boss

Passing through bushy roads

even When the are busy

Seeing the tired faces

Even on daily basis

Adding to my stress

When they are also stressed

*A route and my routine

My work and my walk.*

How do I feed my kids

If I don’t do weeds

Borehamwood is not Hollywood

Though it makes the movies good

Its pathway made of woods

While I come from the hood

Estree and lots trees like

The beauty and the beast

*The reason was I stressed

was to get rid of my stress *

My routes and my routine

(poem)

Work!!!

I was stressed from working

Though I did not walk..

Early morning wake-up

Without enough sleep

To catch the early bus

Before my time is up

A route and my routine

My work and my walk.

On bus to work

Though I am not the boss

Passing through bushy roads

even When the are busy

Seeing the tired faces

Even on daily basis

Adding to my stress

When they are also stressed

A route and my routine

My work and my walk.

Borehamwood is not Hollywood

Though it makes the movies good

Its pathway made of woods

While I come from the hood

Estree and lots trees like

The beauty and the beast

The reason was I stressed

was to get rid of my stress

A poem inspired by lived experience, reflecting the stress, anxiety, and pressure faced by a working dad with young children.

Selfishness in parenting

Parenting truly requires a great deal of selflessness. Our children not only take up space in our hearts but also influence the values we hold dear. They draw our focus away from self-love, leading us to prioritize their needs and well-being above our own. In many ways, they shape and guide our lives in profound ways. It can be challenging; a person who approaches parenting from a selfish perspective may struggle to embody the principles of intentional parenting. Our time, money, thoughts, and actions inevitably shift to cater to our children’s needs. Balancing our priorities while embracing the sacrifices of parenthood is no small feat, and it’s important to acknowledge the emotional journey that comes with it.A selfish person has no place in parenthood

If it meant taking their iPads away for a month, then so be it.

It was a hectic workday, and I had just returned home. After taking a bath and having dinner, I was ready to tackle my assignments, which I had been putting off for a while. However, I also needed to focus on my usual learning and teaching with my kids, which was becoming increasingly overwhelming. I understand the importance of education, especially at my kids’ early stage, and I strive to instill a culture of learning and studying in them. They must stay up to date with their studies and school assignments.

As I tried to relax on the couch with the TV on, my peace was soon interrupted by Boo-boo being chased by Omalicha. They ran out of their room, screaming and laughing, clutching their iPads.

“Can you girls reduce the noise?” I cautioned.

“Okay, Daddy,” Omalicha replied.

“Why are you screaming?” I asked again.

“Boo-boo… Mommy wants to take our iPads away,” they both gasped, panting as they jumped on me, seeking a shield and protection like people trying to escape an angry lion.

Just then, I heard my wife’s footsteps approaching.

“Babe, can you please tell them to switch off their iPads? They’ve been on them since they got back from school,” she said.

“Okay,” I replied.

“Can you believe Chimara hasn’t submitted or had her school work marked for the past two weeks? She even skipped some homework!” my wife continued, clearly frustrated.

“Seriously?” I responded in shock. “How was that possible?”

“Babe, last week I thought it was just a mistake. You know they are given assignments every week to submit the following week. When I realized her last week’s work wasn’t marked, I got worried.”

“Chimara, is that true?” I asked, who was starting to shiver at my reaction.

“Stand up,” I instructed, and she stood in front of me. “Why was your assignment not marked? And why did you skip one of your assignments?”

“Chimara… Daddy, I—I…” she stuttered.

“Did you not submit your assignments to your teachers?” I cut in.

“Daddy, I did, but…”

“But what?” I pressed.

“Why would your homework not be marked if it was submitted? Your mother said you didn’t submit your homework according to your teacher when the class was asked to turn it in.” At this point, she began to mumble, unsure of what to say.

“Okay, I see,” I said. “I realize that you’re starting to get distracted. You’ve spent too much time on your iPad, just like your mother said. Since you girls got back from school, you’ve been on those devices, and that needs to stop.”

“Okay, Daddy,” she replied.

“Hand it over to me.” She gave me her iPad.

“Akuoma, give me yours too.”

Boo-boo, “Mmm, okay,” and reluctantly placed it on the table.

“Now listen, both of you. This will be the last time I receive complaints from your teacher or your mommy about you not doing your homework or not submitting your assignments. Whenever you’re back from school, make sure you complete everything your mommy asks before picking up your iPads. I have realized that both of you are losing focus, not just on your studies, but on other things as well. Therefore, I will be taking your iPads away for a week, after which you will get them back.”

“But Daddy, I promise I will always do my assignments and be a good girl!” both pleaded, but it was already late, and I was determined to help them regain focus. If it meant taking their iPads away for a month, then so be it.