Thursday, October 21, 2010

Is it your business?

So yesterday, I had a Soda and biscuits as breakfast and by 2pm, I felt hunger pangs and knew nothing else would make sense until I eat.

Just as I was about to ask the office assistant to help me pick up something for lunch, my colleague said, haaa, Mrs, you are getting big o, maybe you should skip lunch today...I slowly turned to look him over properly, I took in his protruding tummy, made more obvious by the almost bursting buttons on his shirt, shook my head, ignored him and kept on speaking with the office assistant.

He "wisely" waited for the guy to leave then he repeated his this point, I really couldn't hold my tongue anymore cos this was a clear case of the pot calling the kettle black, so I told him....Mr, when I get any where near you, then I know for sure that there is cause for alarm....number 2, it is no business of yours how big or how small I am, number 3, when I start wearing size 10 dresses, then maybe you can talk, but as far as I still fit into my size 8 dresses, then I am not overweight, also even when I start wearing size 10 dresses, you still do not have the right to talk cos as long as I'm 5ft11, I reserve the right to wear size 10 dresses.

That said and done I turned to face my some may say I should have kept mute, but in my defense, I'm done with people discussing my weight, last year, it was that I looked too small to be a married woman, this year that nature has allowed me put on some flesh, people still talk, so I'm sending this post out as a warning, If you see me and you think you have something to say about my weight, do yourself a favor and let it remain just that....a thought....Now that being said, I think i can face my work...hehehe

Ok, to be fair, I wasn't angry at all at him, just amused at how people carry extra "wahala" on their head, plus, I'm proud of my new found size...D says he like the "feel" *wink wink*
Posted on 11:52 AM | Categories:

Friday, October 8, 2010

When I wondered why...

I had been in the mud pits for most of that day
Being a child, I loved the mud,
I loved its sticky browness and its seeming warmth
The way it made its way into the crevices between toes n fingers
The way it caked on my skin when I let it stay on me a while.
I loved the mud

I remember getting home and seeing my siblins
Beaming excitedly as they packed for summer camp.
You see, today was the first day of camp
Daisy, CeeCee and Karen were sure to go.
So naturally, I though I would too
I saw mum...saw the slight frown, the gentle shake of her head
and then her smile.
I guess she was dissapointed in the dirt, But she loved me still

With one wave of her hand she sent me to the bath
and with tender strokes washed away all the grime
I watched the brown stains drain away, 
never to return ever again....I was clean

I waited and waited for my bags to be packed
But it never was.
When I asked, all i got was that same gentle shake of her head
"Not this time darlin", not this time....
Crushed, I swore never to return to the mud
I remembered in shame how I splashed around in the pits
Now, because of it, Mum loved me less
And there would be no summer camp for me

Two years passed, Each year, camp came and passed
But I remained at home...that darned mud pit
Today, one week to the start of camp, 
mum came in and asked me to get set...I was going to camp
She said it was never my time all those years
But now was perfect timing
I began to cry...all these while i knew mum loved me
But i felt she loved me a lil less cos of that time i was messed up
Turns out she never stopped loving me, 
All she wanted was for my best....
and now....MY BEST IS HERE


Ps 103:2(MSG) 
"as far as sunrise is from sunset, he has separated us from our sins."....
Eph 3: 17-19
....And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
Posted on 11:17 AM | Categories: