Celebrating the journey… 1

This early morning I was in a celebratory mode.

Despite all the hiccups, one goal has been met. The result? The book is out! A hardcopy version as well as an ebook version.

Let me give a brief recap. Recently (On my birthday , I announced that I had finally gotten the courage to release a book I d written circa 2015. )

I had originally typed it on my mum’s laptop. But in the process of moving some of my stuff to another device ; I had mistakenly deleted the latest version. This was before the birthday announcement.

Then in March I d found an older version of the manuscript file on my external hard drive  , so I had started working on it on my tablet device just before the birthday.

Immediately I posted about the book on Facebook, I heard the inner voice tell me, email yourself a copy of the manuscript file and eBook cover file. I did that immediately. I had learnt in a hard way never to ignore the gentle nudge.

Thank God I obeyed, … Because a few days later till now, the phone tablet has refused to boot till completion. Three repair centres later, I m finally accepting that the tab may never work again.

If that had been all, would have breathed a sigh of relief, but then the trusty old laptop I d borrowed from my mum also developed a fault. A couple cybercafes- later and leaning on a senior colleague for use of her laptop occasionally; we are finally here. Behind schedule but definitely done.

From_Depression_to_H_Cover_for_Kindle

Had to give up on the Okada books idea because the email I sent asking how to give out some free copies of the book even when there is a price on the site; went unanswered..

Kindle solved that problem and so occasionally I will be giving out free Kindle copies. Yay!

P.S .

2 major changes…

Reduced the book size in order to make it handy and edited the book in order to make it as concise as possible. When you are depressed , reading voluminous tomes is not usually a favourite activity.

When the muse dries…

Sometimes, it is a desert.

Parched and seemingly incapable of new  growth.

Like no words will ever flow from the usual hole.

 

At other times, it’s a marshy pool; turgid in its very filthiness,

murky depths hidden for what seems like aeons.

 

Then you remember the days of abundance,

downloadWhen the muse poured out large streams of abundant blessedness.

While you wallow and wish for the pleasant days of a  free flowing pen.

 

When you were young and favoured by her;

It would never have looked like you see now.

With your dreams and  idealism,

you knew that she would be your redemption.

 

Sad that now you are lost, wandering in the embers of a soon forgotten dream.

A relic of a noble endeavour that ultimately dries all her patrons.

 

 

 

 

The Song of the Sun

The Song of the Sun

It’s a brand new day.

The sun is shining.


It’s gonna be alright.

It’s a brand new day.

Drop your fears at the foot of the bed,

As you step out of your room today,

Open up your heart to the beautiful possibilities ahead.

Join me to sing…
It’s a brand new day… yeah , yeah… yeah…

It’s a brand new day.

Look at the rays of the sun,

Look at the way it calls out to you,

Spread out your arms andimg-20161120-wa0091

Revel in the brightness,

For it’s a brand new day,

and yeah the sun is shining,

It’s a brand new day.
– Onaoluwa Abimbola (2014)

Faces and Masks

We all put our best faces forward. To do otherwise is to expose ourselves to social harm and ridicule.

We learn to smile, even when inside we are crying a river of tears; painful buckets by buckets.

We learn to laugh politely, instead of clawing out the smug face smiling down on us at the other end of the table.

When we could have shown our true feelings and reactions; we learn to mask them and put on the socially acceptable one.

To show the many faces of the complex reactions we are capable of feeling is to expose oneself to social harm and ridicule.

So instead we learn to wear dark goggles, a poker face and then graduate to covering our truest inner most feelings with carefully laid on words like the make up paste on a woman’s face- layer by layer of transforming, not-easily-recognisable faces that mask the real person within.

Faces and Masks

Image credits: webelieveinbeauty.com

Except of course you are __________ (fill in the blanks with that outrageous person you know who does not have a modicum of “political correctness” running in their veins.

Or that blunt friend of yours who always “says it as it is” – never minding whose feelings are hurt by the resulting buccal expressions. I call them vulgar; a more forgiving person may say they are frank people. What say you?

Do you sometimes wish you were them? No, please dont! That would be a disaster for the peaceful world we all crave. Or don’t we all?

At least, I know about me. I am a pacifist. I hate the very idea of war and killings and I also recognize that it all starts from our interactions; the faces and expressions which we refuse to mask in the interest of peace.

What am I rambling on about? In the wake of the tragic Brussels attack- I have come across some really malicious posts and comments (I refuse to reproduce them here). I will instead continue to share that  which engenders peace and mutual co-existence.

The issue is not about Arab immigrants or King Leopold’s misdeeds or even the often ignored Boko Haram terrorist menace in Nigeria.(I refer to the malicious posts for background); it is more about the fast dying love for our neighbour. How exactly do we restore that? When would all the conflicts  end?

 

#PrayingForAllVictims #BrusselsAttack

I Dared to call Him Father

I dared to Call Him Father is a must read. I picked up this book; a copy of my sister’s and I could not put it down for longer than fifteen minutes at a time until I finished reading. Picked up the book yesterday , finished reading this afternoon .

A wonderful book written by a Pakistani woman who had the most amazing experience, that led her to Christ. Reading the book rekindled the feel of the early years of knowing Christ.

Written in simple English, I dared to call Him Father is a book everyone- Muslim, Christian even atheists need to read. You can get a copy here.

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Bilquis Sheikh -Author “I dared to call him father”

Best  of all, it is not an expensive book and is a great addition to any library. I am curious though, the book was written quite a while ago? How come I never heard about it?

Bilquis Sheikh Sheikh is my new found heroine. She displayed uncommon courage at a time when it was not fashionable to do so.

Have you read any excellent books recently? Do share with me. I am finding time again for an almost-forgotten hobby.

For every woman…

On this International Women’s Day #IWD2016, I celebrate every female, woman alive today.

 

You are beautiful, unique and special.

 

When man was created, there was a need, he lacked some vital component and then came you and God was pleased  enough to end the work of creation.

 

You are refined material, an improvement on an original work… man came from dust, you from the strongest part of man- bone.

 

No wonder you are strong… For all the pain , the trauma that life sometimes throws at the girl child; yet her survival rate is more… Women live longer so the research says.

 

Dear woman, today I have only one advice for you – “Embrace your flaws”.

 

When you look at those parts of you (flaw) that make you feel inadequate or not able to measure up to some standard you have set up – recognise these parts of you for what they really are.

 

They are the reasons why you are truly amazing. When your story is told, many will wonder and say “so inspite of this _______________ (insert flaw or inadequacies) she was still so awesome!”

 

Remember you are like a tree : every part of you is useful.

 

Yes, you are awesome and today if you do nothing else , please smile, do a dance to your favourite music and give thanks for being a woman.

 

So many are envious of you and would give their eye to become you.

 

Stay beautiful…DSCN7208

The Daily Grind

The Daily Grind

 

Can be tasking,

Sucking all life out of a weary soul,

Leaving only the  residue of a paper thin existence,

Dry, lifeless and soulless.

 

Many walk around,

I see them, not a smile nor a dimple  remains,

Cares and fears have choked  out the tiny seeds of hope,

Forlorn, they bear the weight of burdens unshared,

For the glimpse into their soul – which they shared did not comfort bring,

Rather,  mockery and shame from hitherto called friends.

 

No more trusting,

Once; more than was bearable, bitten,

So like zombies they trudge daily,

Rushing to meet some long forgotten ideal,

Forgotten in the grind of failed hopes and dreams.

 

But, like a dry stump,

There is hope – if only life giving moisture be found,

A life giving smile,

Touch or even a miracle of a revived dream,

Then life springs forth anew,

And from corpses  of old,

Rises another- a phoenix is born.

 

It matters not how many times t he daily grind kills,

Each day is another opporunity for life,

For hope and a better existence.

Go and LIVE daily.

 

Abimbola Onaoluwa. 2016

 

For several days I could not publish from my netbook as it would not even save a draft. So, Valentine day passed with me unable to post the poem I had pencilled for the day. But, I have learnt to take it all with a smile and move ahead with other tasks. In the long run, that attitude is a lifesaver.

Life is challenging, truly- but whatever you do, always smile and reestablish the origins of your hopes and aspirations- beat new paths and keep flourishing. I love you.

 

Onaoluwa.