Back to Life, Back to Hope

When you sit down hugging your knees rocking  yourself

With tears running down your cheeks

You silently call on someone, anyone to help you

But your voice is slightly above a whisper

Baby girl, talk your way through it

Say it with me “I’ll be fine”

Say it slowly, repeatedly

And when depression tries to mock your growing faith

Shake your head and say it loudly “I’ll be fine!” repeatedly

In that dark corner, in your room, in your closet, on your bathroom floor

In your mind

Hugging your knees with tears on your face

Rock yourself back to life, back to hope

Nne ama m , but speak life to yourself

Tell depression “I’ll be fine!”
– for September 10


Rants 101

Yesterday I had a conversation with a friend about a brick that hit me early that morning. Yes a brick from nowhere did hit me. I was making a lil salad mix for work because I had the urge to eat healthy ( unless Big Treat stops making those Sponge Cakes I’m never going to survive a diet)

Yes that was the brick.

Yes I doubt myself a lot. I think about things going wrong and not the way I plan. I use to be 17 going 18 and worried about how I haven’t achieved anything. Now I’m 19 going 20 and still worried that I had no clue about life and living on my own.

This is me I’m too far from perfect. I haven’t even started the journey

I hardly leave my house so please don’t make plans with me. If you have and the response was positive I’m sorry you bought a lie because I will flee .I forget to eat sometimes but when I remember I take my time to eat like a fool

No my skin isn’t flawless. I’ve got a palm tree plantation on my face. We produce wonderful dirty oil.

Yes my nose has got Jackson 5 nostrils. I’ll like to think I’ve got hot sauce in my bag swagggg

When I see something I want I don’t own it. Because we have this thing we do in my society, it’s called conform I think.

Yes I like to read about serial killers. I find books about crime, FBI agents and serial killers really exciting.

No I don’t ever get relationships right because I’m not #Goals , I don’t know how to ‘fight  for what you love’ . I ain’t doing that shit, nahhhh fam 😒.  Anyone who leaves gives me a little ‘constructive criticism’

“You’re too uptight”

“You’re not exciting”

“You’re not sensitive”

“Do you feel at all”

“You’re not romantic”

“I don’t know what it is with you, is it pride or what”

I remember telling my friend that I’m probably going to be that friend who has been single since like forever but continues to serve face in every goddamn group picture (does were the exact words). When I’m on a high, I’m on a high high but when I’m on a low I could go lower than rock bottom. I cry myself to sleep and end the day. I cry myself to start a day. During a class, church service, mid way during a conversation or when you wake up in morning; these emotions can hit you anytime. But I would not come over and sit and tell you how much I’m hurting over a box of tissues.

I would proudly say I fallen in love. Possibility.

I would proudly say I’ve suffered heart break *puts hand on forehand and sighs dramatically*

In case I forgot to mention *clears throat* I am the queen of drama 👸🏾. You have never come across a drama queen more dramatic than I am. I actually feel Mad Hatter in Alice in Wonderland is my cartoon spirit animal

Just today I have had someone give me a lecture about knowing what ‘type of husband ‘ I want. Just mins ago another person dropped a wedding card on my desk. Every morning during devotion my mother ‘commits’ my future husband into the hands of  God. Even though I did mention to her one time that I’m not sure I was going to get married.

All I can say at this point in my life is I’m learning to accept myself as who I am. Accepting myself as someone who doesn’t have this puzzle figured out. This time I’m not giving myself a time frame to figure it out or to heal. I’m learning not to hurry myself so that I don’t trip. I’m learning that forgiveness, genuine forgiveness does a lot to your soul and  surprisingly gives you this peace that is unexplainable sometimes.

I’m learning to reveal my truth but guard me.

Not to lie about what I feel not even to myself. Not to force things, let them come naturally. I haven’t gotten all figured out.I still doubt me. But I’m learning


Fast forward to an exhibition

You’ll walk around unusual art

Holding a glass of wine with an appearance to keep

Until you walk by one

The predilection is intense

It stirs up something
Fast forward to months later in your home

You’ll walk around your collection

Holding a glass of wine with no appearance to keep

Everything’s unraveling itself

You’ll walk by one

And be reminded that just like the art , you are unusual

Unusually beautiful

The Fuck Art Exhibition

Artist: Ifedoyin Shotunde

IG: Ifedoyin_s

Blogger Recognition Award




So earlier this month, Damiloves nominated me for the ‘Blogger Recognition Award’. I woke up to a notification and I almost cried, literally. Nominations like this, the likes and comments are very encouraging. Tbh, I have a screenshot of some comments and whenever I’m having one of my days/phase , I just go back and read them and yes sometimes I cry. Getting so much love and support from people I don’t know and I might never meet literally makes my day. And so Dami, thank you very much for this. I luhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh you!

So this are her requirements for accepting this award

1.Write a post to show the award

This is it! Read up, then read down.

2. Acknowledge the blogger that nominated you

I received this during a mild period and what I saw was Oge.O  words that will make you think so imagine how you made me feel. 5x! So thank you again for nominating.

Dami’s blog is amazing by the way, if you haven’t checked it out do so at

3. Give a brief story about how you started blogging.

HEADLINE: I have an unexplainable love affair with words.

From the Enid Blyton and Ladybird books, I had always wanted to write. About three years ago or more I decided to start a blog, but it took me about a year thinking to myself what will I write, what will I name it ,will people read it, will I be good enough , how will I write it. It was about this time that I found through twitter and began stalking Chiamak.O ‘s blog (yellowibogirl)  ‘ Diary of An Igbo Girl’. Sometime in August/September 2013 I started ogesmemoirs

I haven’t been much of a consistent blogger ,but so far I think we’ve been good 🙂

4. Give 2 pieces of advice for new bloggers

Nobody can tell your story better than you do so just be yourself.When writing some articles it might feel like you’re letting yourself to be bare for people who don’t understand you to judge you. But you never know who’s story you’re telling, you never know who’s feelings you just helped put in words.

Be inspired by others. I can be here almost every day and only post once in two weeks or a month, because sometimes I want to read other blogs. I want to know what they feel. I have blogs that I literally stalk and have screenshots of your posts. Connect with other people, encourage them in the littlest ways.

5. Nominate 15 bloggers

Wooooooo *rubs hands* this is just a few. Take time out to read and enjoy!

  1. Idea Dibia  , no matter how long it takes I’ll wait
  2. YellowIboGirl, see my blogger crush!
  3. Soaked in Blvck
  4. Bisii Adedun
  5. Chynanu’s Blog
  6. Tomi
  7. Stuck in Perpetual Soliloquy
  8. iCandid
  9. DamiLoves
  10. Baantu’s Blog, Minded Mindless Musings
  11. Nijava’s Blog
  12. Maria
  13. Adichie Babz
  14. Idle Head
  15. Pelumi O.


Words We Wrote at Night #4

I want to loathe you

I want to bleed and paint you a picture of the misery you made me feel

Feel this pain ten times

But my weakness has become my strength

I look at you and silently pray for you

That it will be well with you

Nna m , believe me

What I feel for you is far from hate but it certainly isn’t love

– forgiveness
📷 : Diego IG: @diqueku

It’s not just photography, it’s art


I’m lying down next to a man
He don’t love me no more
He thinks about her when he’s eating my food
He talks about her with his head on my laps
Į maa na,  he whispers her name in his sleep
I fall asleep to the sound of my man calling for another
He looks at me every morning
Those eyes..
I’m searching but I end up lost
Nne, this night I will lie next to a man
He don’t love me no more