#31Days31Writers: @TheLoulette learned “No one will look after me better than me”

I remember the first time I met Timehin – ok maybe I don’t really remember because I’m not sure if it was this year or last year – but it was after one of Glory Edozien’s events. Glory has a dialogue series where women come together to talk about issues from finance to beauty to self-esteem, was such a joy to attend that one on beauty. Anyway so a few of us chatted for a bit when it was over, Wana Udobang, Francesca Uriri, Glory, Timehin, and I, and we went from reflecting on life in secondary school, to the pressures of being a woman today (size, marriage, accomplishments, etc.) and it was so much fun!

On the drive home (I remember we had such a laugh even though Fran kept ‘threatening me all over the place’) and Timehin said we were crazy. Good crazy of course (adjusts halo). I saw a tweet from her later, something about looking for friends in Lagos (took me a while to place it was the same person) and so I sent a DM and we’ve been ‘cool’ ever since!

Timehin is a brilliant writer. Full stop. Even though I don’t agree with her stand on some things sometimes (which is alright because we’re not Siamese twins), the brilliance with which she expresses her thoughts is not up for discussion. She’s very frank in this entry, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

I don’t know if I’ve ever written one of these year-in-review things, or ever had any desire to. Time as we understand it, broken up into well-defined blocks, only gives me anxiety. The urge to compare myself to others, to look back at the vast expanses of ‘waste’ where I didn’t do things to advance me on whatever course I’ve chosen (or been thrust into), the desperate attempts to do better ‘next year’… Anxiety.

2015 was a strange year for me. I haven’t been an adult very long — I’m 24 — and 2012-14 were so full of almost back-to-back upheavals that the relative stability of this year felt unreal. I coasted into a new job and a new flat. My daughter started school. My boyfriend and I celebrated two years together. I employed live-in help. I was living like a ‘real’ adult, and the entire time I felt like an impostor in my own life; like I wasn’t doing enough, like I had been set so far back in previous years that I’d never ‘catch up’, like I was still a lost little girl hoping to be taken in hand by a kind person who knew the way. I worried all the time, and my mental and emotional health suffered.

I spent a lot of days in a black hole, and on one of them, it occurred to me that I must figure out a way to take things one day at a time. Weeks of waking up crushed by the weight of something that felt too much like failure forced me to go easier on myself. I learned that I don’t have a handle on things, and that’s okay. I’m winging it, groping in the dark for what feels right, hoping for the best. I’m grateful for the chance to be somewhat kind to myself.

I forget too often that nothing is permanent, and very little is as disastrous as I think it will be, and most importantly, that time does nothing but pass. I worry too much. I regret spending energy and time being afraid, instead of just taking the steps I knew I needed to take. I regret kicking myself when I was down, allowing other people’s misunderstanding of my inability to put one foot in front of the other to define me. I wish I had sat with my sadness more, instead of escaping it as quickly and for as long as I could. I apologise to myself.

I didn’t happen on any big answers this year. I eased into discoveries; that I have depression, that I’m actually quite funny, that no one will look after me better than me, that I am responsible for defining the boundaries of my life. I learned to let my daughter climb in bed with me and talk about all sorts first thing in the morning, even when I’m working, because she won’t be three forever. I learned I deserve to be looked at with awe and love; that the person in her eyes is indeed me, and I am as wonderful as she thinks me. I learned that it is okay to ask to be loved the way I know I need to, and it is okay to refuse anything less. In this moment, I am closer to my centre than ever before, and the feeling that I am getting to know my own self, and to love her wholly, is more wonderful than anything else. It is wonderful enough that I am perfectly content to give the process as much time as it needs.

My name is Timehin, I’m a Nigerian living in Lagos, and I’m a writer.

Gorgeous girl! Of course you’re a writer! Here’s to greater progress on your journey in 2016, and happier, less unpleasant days! Mwah!

Home is where the canine is…

I just thought to celebrate my canine today. My very first canine. I can’t wait to have my next one (which I won’t have till I have my own home and can ensure that I will never have to leave him to anyone to look after).

I came home from boarding school one holiday and daddy had this mischievous twinkle in his small eyes I couldn’t place. Did we buy a new car? Did they adopt a baby? Was Momma having a baby? I couldn’t place it. And he wouldn’t say anything beyond; “I have a surprise for you”.

That surprise turned out to be Blesso, our first German shepherd. He was about three weeks old, and was such a beauty!

Blesso (short form for Blessing – that’s what he was to us) became a member of the family immediately. I remember my mom making breakfast for my dad in one part of the kitchen, and my dad mashing boiled eggs and pouring milk for Blesso’s breakfast. As I type I can see the picture of both of them ‘working hard’ like it was yesterday.

Blesso was spoiled; truly spoiled. As a baby, if you set his food down and walked away, he would go have a look at the meal, look at you, and walk away. But if you pulled a chair and sat by the food, he’d come and eat. Even better if you fed him, he’d be seconds from purring! Blesso was spoiled, our truly spoiled baby.

I remember when he sprained his foot. Funny story. As a baby Blesso hated night time and going into his kennel, he’d do anything for a few more minutes of play every night. One night when we put him in, I don’t even remember how he was roughing the place up (angry that he was in his mansion) and next thing we heard something between a howl and a shout!

We all came out, and I promise you Blesso had tears coming out his eyes! He’d hurt one of his hind legs. Took him to the vet the next day, and it was bandaged a bit. Blesso milked it to death!! Ahh! He’d be walking normally o, once he saw one of us he’d start limping and whimpering. Just so you’d carry him. Spoiled, spoiled, spoiled!

But we loved him. Still do.

We had so many variations to his name, like Sir B, Blesso, at some point I started calling him ‘Jibi’, much to my brother’s annoyance (Lord knows how I thought that up)! Whatever I called him though, Blesso knew my voice, and that was enough.

After Blesso turned two, my fondest memories of returning from boarding school or from a trip would be letting him out of his kennel for my ‘inspection’.

Soon as he heard my voice, he’d bark nonstop till I appeared in front of his mansion. When I let him out, he’d smell my feet, lick it (perhaps tasting for consistency, lol), and then, satisfied it was me, he’d stand on his hind feet and use his fore to thump my chest. Boom!

For me, that was his way of saying, “welcome back boo! Where have you been?” And somehow, I started looking forward to this little ritual.

I came home once and not only was ‘home’ now in a different state of Nigeria (my parents had been transferred), but Blesso and his mansion were gone. Our lodgings didn’t have provision for animals and so my folks had given him out. Broke my heart so bad, I felt like someone died. For me, Blesso was ‘home’.

I’ve had two more canines since Blesso (Izzie and Waffles) but like the throes of passion only novelty induce, Blesso will always be in my heart.

P:S – I was inspired to search myself and write about Blesso after Priscilla from dogvacay.com got in touch to ask if I would write on the theme ‘home away from home’. Bringing up all the memories? Totally worth it!

My sister’s sweater, that scripture: my family rocks!

I Skyped with my sister earlier today, and one of the first things she said to me was, “you’re wearing my sweater”. Lol! I think she gave me this sweater in 2002 or so, and even then I think Momma gave it to her. So much love, memories and family in this now shapeless cardigan, but it is one of my favorites.

It’s one of my ‘I want to remember my family’ pieces; others include my Daddy’s sweatshirt, gloves, muffler (he gave me o, I didn’t ‘take’ them). Then there’s Momma’s leggings, my aunty Pat’s wrapper, and so many bits and pieces from my sister’s wardrobe. I have my brother’s Abercrombie and Fitch cropped pants (they went from very baggy to fitted, lol), and a fleece I got from an Egypt Air flight because it smelled like my nephew!

Quick story, and you dare not laugh! 2010 I resumed for the Masters in Birmingham and in the first week I was there (and totally not liking it), I went to the library to get some work done. When I was leaving it occurred to me that my dad’s muffler I had wrapped myself with wasn’t on my neck again. I remembered when my neck felt a little too exposed as I ran into the library (it was a really windy day) and when it dawned on me that I might have lost it, I ran out of the library and defying the wind, started retracing my steps.

God had mercy on me, and I saw that someone had picked it up and placed it on a window ledge. The way I cried when I picked it eh, you’d think I had just found my missing child. Sigh. I think I even apologised to the scarf sef. (Rolling my eyes so you don’t have to roll yours 🙂

Still on my dad, he had a funny habit when we were younger. On the occasions we didn’t leave the house together and we met up in church or anywhere else, he would look at us and immediately know who was wearing something belonging to the other sibling. And he wouldn’t just know, he would say!

I can’t count how many times I heard him say, “why are you wearing your sister’s dress?” Na wa. Somehow it always made me laugh, especially since 9 times out of 10, he’d be right! Always made me laugh.

After a while though, everyone grew up, it kind of became a chore knowing who was wearing whose clothes, and after a while he stopped. I miss it o, the twinkle in his eyes whenever he said that.

Still on my dad (and clothes), when I was about 13 I read this scripture, Matthew 6:25 – “Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?” And from then on, my answer to whatever I was asked would be “I’m not giving it any thought.”

Now, Saturday nights were spent (amongst other things like Scrabble between my folks or us kids), arranging our clothes for Sunday. This particular Saturday night, I refused to bring out and iron my Sunday dress, because I was, ‘having no thought’. To be honest, I had an outfit planned (in my head) and I figured that when I brought it out the next morning, they would believe I was really ‘living the scripture’.

After asking a couple times, everyone left me (especially when I started singing the scripture). The evening and the morning, Sunday! I woke up, showered, and went to my wardrobe to pull out my planned outfit.

…

….

……

It was there o, but apparently I’d worn it somewhere quite a while before that day and not only did I have food stains on the front, something was wrong with the zip!

I cried that morning eh! Plenty cry! My folks were gracious that morning, very gracious, it’s my brother and sister who couldn’t stop laughing. SMH. I don’t remember what I ended up wearing, I think it was something Momma had been trying to get me to wear, and that morning I didn’t have a choice.

I love my family – my two big brothers, my sister, Momma and The Patriarch, and my precious, precious nephew – love you guys to the moon and back!

Mwah!

 

 

“I live and breathe food” – Nky Iweka #31days31writers

I met Princess Nky (she is a proper Princess o) at the Excuse Us London event in April (or March, fuzzy on dates now). It had been a very successful event, and we all piled into a restaurant for dinner. Everyone got talking and when I heard her surname, I introduced myself and asked if she was from the royal family in my town (I’m from a town, not a village). Of course she was/is, she’s a princess!

And a really lovely one too, I remember her encouraging me just before I went on stage to moderate a panel at Social Media Week London, Princess you don’t know what that short chat did for me that day! Thank you! 

She’s up on a Saturday for a reason, so you can head into the kitchen and whip something up inspired by the photos below! I’m grateful I have royalty on the blog this 21st day of the #31days31writers project; I give you Princess Nky!

My name is Nky Iweka, British-Nigerian or is it Nigerian-British (I wouldn’t want to offend either side of my family and nationality). I live and breathe food, a foodie if you’re being charitable or a glutton if you’re not.

2013 was the year I truly discovered that I could combine my passion for food with my creative side and make a living from it in various ways.

One of the things I have always wanted to do is bring Nigerian food to the forefront of international cuisine. Our food is tasty but not always pretty. 2013 was spent refining the preparation and presentation of our food; writing a 300-page Nigerian cookbook due to be published next year (preview here: http://issuu.com/tupelogreen/docs/prelims_staplesreduced) and setting up an Executive Culinary Services Company (Tupelo & Green).

Like most people, I am grateful for my friends and family. As a Social Media Enthusiast, I also grateful to my friends on Facebook whom have given me great feedback on my food, much as they complain that I make them hungry with my posts.

My highlight of the year was having the opportunity to train the Executive Catering Staff of a major Nigerian organisation for several weeks over the summer.

You’re probably wondering what is so special about my food? As well as finding new ways to present Nigerian food and discovering our more unusual dishes, I spend a lot of time seeking inspiration from other cuisines. “Nigerian food with a twist”, my older daughter calls it.

They say a picture tells a thousand words, so here are a few of the dishes I made in 2013:

An Igbo favourite, Abacha na Ugba aka African Salad, brought up to date in a modern stack – all the traditional elements remain: stockfish, utazi, garden eggs, onions etc and some roasted red peppers for additional colour.

Nigerian/Asian Fusion – Prawn & Ugba Noodle Stir-fry: Inspired by the Nigerian love for instant noodles and Asian stinky beans. The latter are from the same family as ugba.

Spicy smoky Native Jollof Rice (Inuk Edesi) made with palm oil and smoked fish is an absolute favourite of mine.
This particular plate was demonstrated to my students in Lagos earlier on this year: served on a bed of smoked fish, goat meat and ugu salad.

If I could do one thing differently, it would be that I wish I had listened to a friend who said a couple of years ago: “Nky, the thing you would do for free is the thing you should do for a living” – I would have started my reinvention earlier.

So here’s to a fabulous 2014 for all of you.

Nky Iweka lives in London and may be found on here: http://tupelogreen.com or here: https://www.facebook.com/TupeloGreen

Your time, my time, our time… Go get yours!

In the last 48 hours my nostrils, throat, and chest have kinda been on strike ladies and gentlemen. Started on Friday night with inflamed tonsils, by Saturday night I was drinking cups of ginger and lemon tea like they’re going out of fashion. Woke up several times during the night out of panic cos I wasn’t breathing well and my throat was really sore!

On advice from my darling doctor sister I did the inhalation business (breathing in balm in hot water with my head partly covered with a towel to keep the whole thing in) on Sunday morning and has it helped? Yes it has! I miss my mom and my aunty Pat though! Chicken (and every other kind of) soup would have been flowing ceaselessly by now!

Anyway yesterday morning on the way to church my big cousin Obinna sent a BBM (blackberry message) saying he’s getting married! Whoop! Was I excited for him or what? There’s nothing like finding that person you know deep down you want to be with and then actually going further than just knowing to making an actual commitment to them before God, friends, and family! And so I was excited for him! For him and the lucky, lucky lady because my cousin is an absolute peach! Humourous, hardworking, and did I mention he’s über handsome too? Sorry ladies, he’s taken!

I’m also excited for my uncle and aunty (his parents) because he’s the last of four siblings, and everyone else is married so once his is done, his folks are (technically) over and done with marriages!

I teased him about opening the door of weddings ‘in the family’ this year and said we (I and the rest of my cousins were coming right behind him) and then he said something which I haven’t been able to get out of my head the entire day. He said, “overtaking is allowed, once it’s your time, it’s a green”. Once it’s your time, it’s a green, and nothing will be able to hold you down!

Reminds me of one of my favorite scriptures in the book of Ezekiel chapter 21 verse 27. It says,

“I will overturn, overturn, overturn, it: and it shall be no more, until he come whose right it is; and I will give it him.”

In other words, when it’s your turn, it’s a green! And no one, for whatever reason will deny us! And when is that time? Psalm 102:13

“Thou shalt arise, and have mercy upon Zion: for the time to favour her, yea, the set time, is come.”

It is your time! It is my time! It is our time! So go out today, this week, this month, and go get yours!

My prayer for everyone reading this is to enter into their God ordained time already!

Have a super productive week!

 

P:S – Congratulations again Binna! You inspired this!

 

The day before the day that would precede the days here

How many ‘days’ can you get in one sentence? I got three.

Ok, been exactly a week since I’ve been home, reminisced on my trip here and decided to write as I thought. Ok? Nothing extra.

The day before I left, my uncle and my nephew came in from. From helping them settle in, to fixing them a meal, then racing to the Mail Delivery Office to pick up my parcels I had missed, I looked up and all of a sudden it was 5pm. In other news my Reebok Slim Tones are so fab, and super comfy!

Anyway, so I whisked my nephew to the mall to purchase his school stuff, we had a quick lunch and then spent the next few hours going from store to store. Did I mention I cooked soup before we left?

Got home about 9.40pm, and the little urchin who had complained he was tired and wanted to go home (remember we were shopping for his stuff), entered the house and remembered I promised to take him to ASDA for doughnuts and chocolate muffins. Off to ASDA we went.

Cooked jollof rice when we got back, let it burn a little so it had that ‘party rice’ flavor, loaded all the dishes from lunch and dinner in the washer, packed his box, and then started thinking of how to pack mine. Time check? 11.54pm.

Bless God for Booski for buying Boo Boo a dolphin shaped foot-to-floor ride (thank you Sweetie), and for the brilliant idea on how to fit it into one of my boxes! You’re a star.

My neighbor came around to help me too (thank you Mobola), and keep me company. To be honest she kept me from falling asleep! By 1.30am we wrapped up on the packing and she advised me not to sleep till I was showered and ready for my taxi.

Again, shout out to Booski for staying up with me the entire time; are we mighty grateful for Facetime or what?

3.25am, my taxi arrived. I loaded my stuff in the car, said a prayer, and fell asleep.

A woman’s work is never done.

 

Airport.

Got to Terminal Four about 5am, and just as I was wheeling my boxes into the departure area and wondering why I was at the airport two hours before my flight when I already had a boarding pass, I saw the queue for baggage drop, and didn’t even utter the words.

Air France. Was going to ask to be upgraded (since it didn’t cross their minds to upgrade me, smh) when it occurred to me that all my smiles at the lady went unacknowledged. Plus, she said they couldn’t tag my boxes as ‘fragile’ because “Air France doesn’t tag boxes, at all”. This was after she’d made me wheel my stuff to some other counter o. SMH, again.

Boarded, said another prayer, was talking to Booski and I dozed off. He hung up, and started calling back, at least so I could switch off my phones but my royal majesty was fast asleep! Didn’t wake up till we touched down at Charles De Gaulle.

Only thing I thought when I woke up was, “Dear Lord I hope I wasn’t snoring.”

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This thing about training a child

On a train from Leicester Square to Heathrow about a week ago now I sat beside a man and a young boy who couldn’t be more than nine years old. Typical pesky child, he wanted to know everything – why the vents were open, why they had to stop at so many places before Acton Town (where they got off), if the two people snogging opposite them were married (and if they had children), I found myself chuckling and asking myself if I was that inquisitive at his age! I was probably worse, sigh.

Let’s digress a bit. I don’t think it’s ‘okay’ to kiss and cuddle and do all those other ‘grownup things’ in the presence of children. I don’t know have any research to back this up, nor do I know how to fully explain myself but I just think that if we all delayed their exposure to these things a little, it just might delay their debut into all things intimate and sexual.

Did I say not to show affection in public? Nope, go for it! I’m all for it, actually think it’s cute, all I’m saying is, keep it PG! So, not the saliva exchange programme or fondling, or any of that stuff, get a room (literally)! Otherwise what’s the point of classifying/rating movies if they’ll just see the action live anyways!

Back to the man and the boy now. It was funny trying to concentrate on my book, listen to Michael Franks, and keep up with the boy’s chatter. Then all of sudden, I heard what I’m going to try to reproduce as accurately as I can below.

Man – no, you cannot go out unsupervised with a bunch of friends I don’t know

Boy – not fair! I said I’d bring them home. You’ll know them

Man – doesn’t mean you can go out unsupervised…

Boy – (cuts in) oh shut up

Man – what did you say?

Boy – nothing (mumbles under his breath)

Man – you know you cannot talk to me like that

Boy – (cuts in) you shouldn’t stop me from going out with my friends

The man tried to say something else and in the next few minutes, the number of ‘shut ups’ this urchin told the man (parent or guardian) almost surpasses the number of times I’ve greeted my parents in my lifetime!!

What!! And guess what? The man did/said nothing, apart from “still not going to let you go out unsupervised with kids I do not know”. I thought to myself, “that’s it?” I increased the volume on my music, and for three reasons:

1. Coming from  my background, telling someone older than you (not to talk of your parents) to shut up  was (still is) unimaginable. Never even said it in my mind before!

2. The disgust I felt at the parent for feeding that type of errant behaviour. Was obviously not his first time of lashing out like that, and I wondered how he would talk to his teachers at school.

3. Really needed to get back to my book!

Credit: Rational Hub

Gisted my boyfriend and we agreed that on the way to learning/imbibing the fear of the Lord, the fear (read as respect for/obedience to) parents is an important milestone! Will we correct our children? Oh definitely! We will speak to them, pray for/with them, admonish/caution them, and then if we have to, ladies and gentlemen we will spank!

Why? Well, because the idea of children is neither to make up a quota of babies in our community or breed/fatten animals for sale or slaughter; the idea is to bring forth Godly seed that will be great, useful to themselves, us, and to their immediate and extended communities. Hardly starts from telling us to shut up, no?

My kids won’t even think it.

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Blogging for Mumsnet, whoop!

First things first, I don’t have a child, at least not yet. But, I’ve taken care of quite a few of them, I love them to pieces, and there are few things I wouldn’t do for a child. One thing actually, and that is sucking their nose (to clean it out). You know when they are at that age when you can’t tell them ‘blow’ or mimic the nose-blowing action for them to follow successfully? I know aunts and moms who won’t hesitate to put mouth to nostril and…..yuck!

Ah! You’re still here! Means you didn’t bring up your breakfast. Seriously though, it relieves the child enough (there’s only a few things worse than seeing your baby with a stuffed nose, breathing from the mouth), and some claim, better than nasal sprays and things. Still can’t do it though! My friends who are moms say that as soon as I have my own babies I will do it but nope! I don’t think so!

I have a nephew who will be a year old in a few days, and I love him to pieces, just like I would love my own child. He’s my first official nephew, and my parents’ first grandchild. Naturally we dote on him, at some point he wasn’t allowed to cry (except my sister and I wanted to get a talking to from my mom), and to be honest he’s the cutest baby in the world!

I was there when he was born (well not there the entire time to be honest, I freaked out at some point), and I’ve bathed him, sang to him, fed him, rocked him to sleep, strapped him on my back. I’ve changed diapers, cleaned his vomit, read to him, prayed for him, endured him banging on my laptop (with bated breaths) cos he’s looking for himself inside it, what else could you do for a child?

I remember bawling in church one Sunday because my sister had sent me pictures of him very ill with quite the spread of rashes. But, I have never, and don’t plan to ever clean his nose (or any other nose for that matter) with my mouth thank you very much. My boyfriend might be open to that, I dunno. I’m happy to use Calpol nasal spray because it really, really worked for my nephew.

Ah ha! Now that that’s out of the way, I’m delighted to be joining Mumsnet Bloggers Network, I’ve read a lot of articles off that network and I sent in my application with my heart in my mouth. I was pretty chuffed to get that email welcoming me to the network, really chuffed!

I look forward to sharing stories from my childhood, tales from looking after my nephew (hereafter referred to as Boo Boo or Liam) and mirroring experiences from everyone else here.

I’m African, Nigerian to be precise and so even though I currently live in England, there are some parenting techniques/experiences I will write about that will be traditionally African (proudly) – so feel free to ask for explanations on anything!

Some days it’ll be full on posts, other days it’ll be short stories, and some days it might be a video or a picture, but you have my word that each offering will bring you back for more!

Hugs,

Future mom

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TwO mOrNiNg’S aFtEr….

Hello!!!

Valentine’s come and gone; what did you do? Where did you go? What did you give, and what did you get? I could totally make a song out of this, check my rhyme scheme out! While I sort out the rest of the lyrics, you better start talking!!

Really though, did you have fun? Go somewhere nice? Did he put a ring on it? What!! He didn’t? He’s waiting for you to grow old first? Or in the words of my dear friend, he’s waiting for all your eggs to boil first? Lmao!!

I had a swell Valentine’s Day. Full stop o!!  I can see you settled in nicely, waiting to hear what I did on the day…. Tatafo United! I caught you! And I’m not telling cos I asked first. *tongue out*

While you type, here are the pictures for this week’s Pinch of Humor!

Cutcy: the Groom’s family. OK.

 

Lmao!! Having a mistake on your back forever! *sigh*

 

Don’t you just love family? My ‘knees’!

 

Did you die? Dead!!!!!

 

Really? Really really?

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THANK YOU FOR 2012!!

Ok, so it’s 5.42am and just as I tweet that my darling nephew (Boo Boo) is a miracle baby for sleeping throughout the night, he wakes up! Talk about a tweet too early! Rather than whine about my ‘me time’ gone, I’ve decided to do a ‘thank you for 2012’ post. Cliche as it may sound, there are quite a few people I need to thank for the different things they’ve been to me this year, and Boo Boo’s one of them!

To God, for life, love, hope. For the gift of every new day He’s given, for safe travels (and I moved around quite a bit this year), for health; I might have fallen ill a couple times but the things I recovered from killed some people. I’m also grateful for a sound mind; don’t really see how much more righteous I am than the people who are out of theirs. Most importantly I’m grateful to Him for mercies that I see every day. This year’s been a little rough and I’ve derailed majorly but He’s been (and still is merciful).

To my family, you guys are the surest, baddest bosses ever! Kai!! Wouldn’t trade you guys for anything in the world! To Momma, Daddy, Kizaro, Inne, Qintaro, and the latest addition to the family, my darling Boo Boo!!! God bless you guys! I love you to the moon and back! 2013 is ours!!

To The One who calls me Pebbles, what do I say? Where do I start? How do I begin to talk about you, would anyone even grasp the depths of what I feel, of what you are to me? For the songs, the stories, the beautiful dances, the encouragement, for everything; thank you.. You’re the wind beneath my wings!

To my girl for life Wumi, you’re many shades of awesome! You understand me, you’ve accepted me (and my moods, lol), you’re there for me in ways I cannot begin to explain, I just love you girl!! Christmas with you was awesome, 2013 is the year!!

To my bestie Miss Mangut, you’re a great lady, a wonderful resource, and someone for whom the sky is but the starting point! Loads of love!

To the Chief Sista and Mr Mobility, thank you for being an ever present source of wisdom, a listening ear, a shoulder to lean on (and soak with tears sometimes). Thank you for always being there, God bless you, and satisfy the desires of your heart speedily! I love you! To Aninoritse, thank you for being my friend; you’re never more than a phone call or ‘you’ve abandoned me’ BBM away. Love you muchos!

To the ‘elders’: I read through your eyes, climbed on your shoulders, walked through doors you opened, turned at your reproof, gained new knowledge, forged new friendships and partnerships through you, got the opportunity to prove myself, thank you! Thank you to my Principal, Dr Sam Amadi, Mr Eyo Ekpo, Jackie Farris, Yemi Adamolekun, Dr Ebirima Ceesay, FML, Mac-Jordan Degadjor, Bankole Oluwafemi, Alkasim Abdulkadir; here’s to a brilliant 2012, let’s do it (and even bigger) next year! I must specially thank Bankole, Alkasim, and Mercy Abang for being such wonderful business partners! And congratulations on your wedding Mercy! She rocks!

To my @i_blend family, for two years (I know, can’t believe we’ve had this group for this long) you’ve been home away from home for me. You (@AndyMadaki, @El_Jefe, @Nubian_Semm, @Lucy, @EddieMadaki, @Attaswitch, @Tess_lati, @Mamfizzle, @MissMimilove, @Oche_E, @Ene_vanhelsing, @Desiree, @Mimi, @Matilda, @Ayeesha, @Dosh, and @Gang) have been sources of joy, a rounded sounding board, activity.com, and best of all, great friends! 2013 is ours! I love you guys!

To everyone who’s read my blog, left a comment, tweeted a link, liked a post, or even followed the blog, thank you!! It is for you I write, God forbid that I take you for granted. To Iyke, Pearl, Chief Sista, Jaz, and Rita for being the top five commenters on the blog this year, thank you so much! 2013 will be bigger, better, more interactive, richer, and I promise there’ll be shorter breaks in between posts!

To Hillsongs Church, I’m grateful I found you, however late in the year. I promise to get more involved soon as I get back!

To Zemanta, WordPress, Nitropdf, and Google, your constant innovations have been a delight; they’ve also made for a richer online experience. Thank you! @Nitropdf, I’m earnestly waiting on the MAC version like you promised!

Thank you, thank you, thank you! Here’s to an extra-productive 2013!

The Fairy GodSister.

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