So it’s 2am, and I’m awake. Not because this was one of those nights that sleep eluded me, but because I just got off the most enchanting phone call ever. As people who know me probably know now, I love it when my phone rings. Not every time, and definitely not for every caller. There are some for whom my heart skips – my mother, because she always has a word of blessing and peace (she’s my unending miracle), my father, because he will always make me laugh, my sister, because we always find a way to cheer each other up even in the face of adversity, my brother, because he is the smartest, most handsome brother in the world, with the funniest jokes, and the biggest loads of encouragement for his baby sister.

There are some for whom my heart skips, not only when they call at 1.30am in the morning just so they can fall asleep to my voice; they call and say, ‘tell me how you feel Babe’, and then before the first word is out of my mouth, they’re dreaming it – it’s perfectly ok, and somehow I still think that the next time will be different, that they won’t fall asleep (thought that the last two hundred times now). Thoughts at two, I love you, yes you.

I spent most of my night chatting with a dear friend who doubles as my counselor, and my shrink. We talked about love, about friendships, about the reason why we all shouldn’t judge. We talked about life being various shades of gray rather than black and white like we erroneously ascribe to the circumstances of others, but expect everyone to ‘understand’ when it’s us. I came away from that conversation determined to be a little better at understanding people. Shortly after I watched Chimamanda Adichie‘s Ted Talk she titled, ‘the danger of a single story’ – couldn’t be more of a confirmation of the discussion I’d had.

I also watched Sarah Kaminsky’s story of her father who for 30 years was a forger of documents, passports; you name it, he forged it. Wrinkling your nose in your mind yet? Believe it or not it was for a good cause, to deliver the poor and oppressed; his works were mostly during World War 2. It was such a pleasure that he was in the audience, and took a bow at the end of her talk.

What am I thinking of at 2am in the morning? I’m excited for the heroes welcome the Super Eagles got for winning the African Cup of Nations – I’m excited about the joy it’s brought every Nigerian. I am afraid though, that it is again one of the quick fixes that distract us from the many things that plague us. The boys have been gifted millions of naira by Dangote, by Adenuga; they have received national honors, landed property, and more money from Mr President. That caters to them, with their football ages that would put many a young vixen to shame. What happens to raising the next generation of AFCON, maybe even Olympic gold winners? What happened to celebrating today, but making plans for tomorrow? The celebrations of tonight to my mind are a tad reminiscent of King Herod offering his belly dancing daughter the half of his kingdom but hey, that’s just me.

What else is on my mind? I’m thinking of my nephew, and his two teeth, how adorable he is, and how I cannot wait to see him again, feed him (hopefully I won’t have to force him), strap him to my back (oh yes I can do that), and cuddle, and sing, and coo, and just be with this very precious gift from God to us.

I’m thinking of my future, and what I want to do/be because sometimes it’s really easy to get wrapped up in only the things people want for us, rather than things we really want for ourselves. I’m thinking critically if I want to be in England, or if I want to be in Nigeria, and be one short flight away from my folks, one short drive away from a church where the music is of heaven, and one ‘dramatic’ phone call away from you. I’m thinking of the idea for a charity I’ve had since January 2007, and wondering why six years after, I haven’t been bold enough to start. I know that’s all I need to do, start.

I’m thinking of today, thinking of tomorrow, thinking of times when I didn’t think at all (like this afternoon when I said I’d wash my hair but ended up with a very low cut), and finally, thinking of my yesterday, and being thankful that I might not be where I want to be, but I’m definitely not where I started.

And that’s enough, even for 2am.

That's me, and my new hair cut.

That’s me, and my new hair cut.

 

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Comments
  1. TemitoAdesina says:

    New haircut makes you look younger, what’s your football age? Mine is 15 going to 16…

    Like

  2. Hmmmmmnnnn. *long sigh*

    That shades of grey thing applies to me very well. I expect people to understand when it is me having the problem or cutting corners but I am quick to judge when I feel someone has fallen short. May I be gracious to others even as God has been gracious to me.

    I’ve never been abroad but I know in my bones how difficult it must be to decide to come back to Nigeria after staying in such an organised economy/environment for so long. I pray God leads you aright according to His will.

    And now that you speak of it, I really need to go see my nephew. At least he is in the same state with me so I must ‘take the current while it serves’.

    Lovely-ly written Chioma. Thank you for sharing.

    Like

    • Thank you Pearl!

      We are all guilty of it my dear, this judging business. I’m echoing your prayer in my heart as I write this.

      About coming back or not, my dear, my thoughts are running away with me by the day, and I haven’t been here that long! It’s just a lot of weighing going on in my head, and I trust God to make the right decision.

      And I can’t wait to see my nephew!!! Looking forward to it!

      Like

  3. modupe says:

    Ur haircut suits you…and what a write-up.I hoped it wouldn’t end.

    Like

  4. gegebearbear says:

    Nice post. Great writing……Jill

    Like

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