who am i?

"I write for the unlearned about things in which I am unlearned myself." - CS Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

ranting, rambling, blabbing...

i had the best Easter weekend. hopped my way back home to mom. spent a day in Abuja then headed for makurdi. the north is bloodily hot i tell ya.
it felt good being home, where most streets are familiar and have a memory lying in it.
and it was great being moms baby again, sleeping in her bed, following her everywhere and reclaiming that tittle of 'baby of the house', 'mummys handbag', and 'adc'. i hated that the break had to end. i kept sniffing, okay i cried as i hugged her goodbye(i hate goodbyes) and i kept texting her all day.
so my relief therapy was spraying moms perfume all over my favorite scarfs. as i wrap myself in the scent of her i'm a little bit soothed and calmed, and then i cry a little cos i miss her so much.
thats the pains of adulthood, we all want to be grown up so fast and when we get there we're runing back, desperate to cling the childhood that was so blissful but we never enjoyed cos we were runing from it.

i'm back to work, how sad. i had a little chat with afrobabe and it hit me that we're supposed to be mourning Jesus and i tell you two days aint enough to mourn our savior, a whole week should do, i mean its not enough too, but its more reasonable than 2 days.

so, i try so hard not to get obsessed with my nieces when it comes to blogging cos i'd go on and on like a proud mother that i am.

good news is that steph(5) my first niece lost her first tooth. yes, shes now a big girl and i'm proud of her. shes in that frustrating phase of shaky tooth and cute smiles with a roll of teeth missing LMAO.

bad news is the tooth is missing. that's sad cos she missed her first illusion of the tooth fairy, how i told her tales of that fairy(i mean no one bothered with that for me, although i kept my tooth sacred). the story she sadly told me was that her mom gave her chocolate and the next thing the tooth wasn't there when she was done eating. rumor has it that she swallowed it. yuck. of course its just plain rumors we wouldn't tell her the truth, this one time i told her the orange seed she swallowed was going to grow on her head and our family would never lack oranges again cos we got our personal supply...(that didn't go well i tell ya. her prayers against were so hilarious)

prayer time with my nieces is revealing time, unfortunately that's the sole privilege of their mom

so my sister called me the other day to say Gaby(3yrs)during prayers asked that 'God would grant me a safe trip', her big sis steph and her mom curiously asked her where i was traveling to and the sweety said 'shes coming to London' with so much reassurance that her big sister leaped up excitedly and asked 'when?', Gaby replied 'i dont know' (the faith of children)

you see, i've been telling them since January i'm coming and they keep looking forward to it. unfortunatelyi cant make it. the sweet heart even had to start praying by faith. that faith dwindled cos their mom called me yesterday laughing as she narrated the latest 'super prayer'

'God please help aunty FQ stop lying all the time that shes coming soon'...i had to cry a little at that. all they do is scream when i tell them over the phone that i'll soon visit. now they've given up hope and have to pray for God to shut me up from promising 'next week'

i miss the cuties. hope they'll have faith in me again though.

a blogger toochi lost his mom...i know we cant always ask 'why' because we dont have the right to question God. i'm praying for him and i hope y'all do the same. may she rest in peace. i always kept putting off going to see her...wish i did.

and hengish is off to nysc camp tomorrow. now that sucks, wish her the best and hopefully she'll get a nice young man to keep her er...company?

so i've blabbed, just going to send mom a text then its bed time.

Friday, March 14, 2008

i am me...

i've been ill for a while, a crazy lil' sucker fever.

...sod cash. money is so overrated.(no explanations here)

I grew up way before i was old enough to understand that going through the growing up phase was actually cool. I got irritated by my mates easily, my best friends were my sisters all ten to eight years older than me and my boyfriend was my brother four years older, I’m sure i was his growing pain as i would follow him everywhere and just...

Granddad used to look at me and in that wise elderly way and mutter fondly ‘FQ the clever’ especially after i had figured something some other person was still at a loss of what to do about.
But i guess i got too clever for my own good. I got so engrossed in the Greek mythology, I would be Athena today, the wise woman of the land and the next day Venus the deity of love, beauty,or the graces, but one thing i was more than the rest of my fantasies in practice was Proteus, the sea-god. you see he was the one who had the ability to change his shape to whatever the situation required, he had a positive connotation of flexibility, versatility and adaptability. This was his defense against the world and that was me, i could be a snake amongst snakes, a wise amongst the wise and god help me a monkey amongst monkeys.

I got so good at playing the role of complexity that i began to feel like Alice did in wonderland. the part when the caterpillar asked her ‘who are you?’ and she responded ‘i don’t know sir, just at the present, at least i know who i was when i got up this morning but i think i must have changed several times since then'.

I lost my sense of self trying to be different people at the same time. Being an adult when i really was a kid and trying to be like a kid when i really felt like an adult. Things kept changing at a rapid pace that slowed me down. Being clever and street wise wasn’t everything.

I would spend hours in my room trying to figure me out, frustrated at the inability to grasp what i really was about, at the fact that i couldn’t be normal and share in the giggles over guys with my friends without looking at them as stupid.
I’m still in the process of self discovery and each day that approaches i get closer to understanding me, to appreciating the now i have, to live like i am and not in the shadows or steps of my sisters, they’ve had their life’s its time i have mine.

I’m on the trail of being a Proteus without loosing my sense of right and wrong, of prudent decency. I’m not going to be Alice anymore…I’m going to have a better answer for the caterpillar when he sucks on his pipe, blows out and ask in that sleepy voice ‘who are you?’...'i am a phenomena woman, suave and sexy, a giant with a base on the shoulders of a mother who’s brought me up with good and for good, filled with success... i am FQ, a woman of substance, deep and intelligent. I am a woman amongst women, a man amongst men, a scholar amongst scholars...a daughter, an aunt, a sister, a friend, a girlfriend(well working on that)who would soon be a wife and mother, and most of all i am who i am, nothing more and nothing less than i really am......’

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

the trials of a woman...

i read allieds post, then came across yar mama, and yesterday followed zena's link to her page. they all had one thing in common, relatively different but all talking about the same thing, zena ranted about a cheating husband having his cake and eating it and a couple of aunts going through abusive marriages(ie cheating spouses), yar mama is a northerner(like me) who was forced into marriage at 16 , a practice accepted by culture(but i'm glad she got courage to leave so shes not like the woman in the poem below) and allied spurned one of her classic tales, this time about a generation of women groomed to acccept abuse from their husband as a way of life.
it made me remember this poem by john saxe...

the best of husbands...

oh i have a husband as good as can be,
no woman could wish for better than he!
sometimes, indeed, he may chance be wrong.
but his love for me is uncommonly strong.

he has one little fault that makes me fret.
he has always less money, by far, than dept;
moreover, he thrashes me, now and then,
but excepting that, he's the best of men.

i own he is dreafully given to drink:
and besides he is rather too fond, i think,
of playing at cards and dice: but then,
excepting that, he is the best of men!

he loves to chat with the girls, i know
('tis the way with the,-they're always so),-
but what care i for his flirting, when,
excepting that he is the best of men!

i cant but say i think he is rash
to pawn my pewter, and spend the cash:
but how can i scold my darling, when,
excepting that, he's the best of men?

when soak'd with tipple, he's hardly polite,
but knocks the crockery left and right,
and pulls my hair, and growls again;
but excepting that, he's the best of men!

yes, such is the loyalty i have shown;
but i have a spouse who is all my own;
as good, indeed, as a man can be,
and who could ask for a better than he?

this is one of the reasons my resolve to one day get my degree in women rights grows strong daily. its one of my favorite poems. i love the humour, but its deeper than the laughs, maybe its just me,but i feel pain buried deep in the dear ladies story.

like a woman trying too hard to believe that 'excepting that, shes got the best of men' afterall there are women out there joslting for a husband and here she is with hers.
no person deserves to be treated this way with disrespect. i'll walk away so fast his fat cheating beating arse wouldnt know what knocked the breath out of him. even if he is the best of men when sober...sod him.

its a shame women are made to accept the brutality of their situations, thats going to change soon, very soon, and i hope to one day be part of that change, if not for everyone, but for the few i come across, even one person would give me fufilment, cos its one less person going through abuse from a spouse just because...

PS..maybe he was the best of men in bed? cos excepting that all he does classifies him as man trash..but then does sex make up for lots of things in a relationship? does it soothe the hurt and abuse?
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