tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32850237104524765632024-02-18T19:09:53.207-08:00Courageous fingersChiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.comBlogger119125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-83831761891205400022014-02-26T07:54:00.001-08:002014-02-26T07:55:18.583-08:00BLOOD LUST DISGUST<span style="background-color: white; font-family: monospace; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /><br />Spittle on ice<br /><br />The rattle of snakes in freezing water.<br /><br />Brittle fire<br /><br />The scalding burn of fury.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Brave betrayal<br /><br />The cold tears of a broken heart.<br /><br />Dicey stings<br /><br />The unfortunate loss.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Loyalty is scorned.<br /><br />Loyalty is valueless.<br /><br />Loyalty is a waste.<br /><br />Loyalty achieves nothing.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Love conquers joy.<br /><br />Love causing pain.<br /><br />Love, the curse.<br /><br />Love changing nothing for better.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Patience, destructive.<br /><br />Patience, vice.<br /><br />Patience, un appreciated.<br /><br />Patience, useless. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Hate, impossible.<br /><br />Hate, non-existent.<br /><br />Hate, improbable.<br /><br />Hate, wishful thinking.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Scorned human<br /><br />The bashing of water droplets.<br /><br />Angry leaves<br /><br />The careful slicing through of wind.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Cold rejection<br /><br />The happy flies flee.<br /><br />Brave somersaults<br /><br />The scampering away of blood lust.<br /><br /><br /> -CHIZITERE.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-77141885889212290552014-01-30T06:04:00.001-08:002014-01-30T06:04:12.294-08:00UPDATE: SAME OLD SIMPLE ME.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">taking a pose at work.</td></tr>
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Hello beautiful people! How has life been? The usual ups and downs i guess? Don't worry, it's one of those things and like one of my favourite quotes from high school goes, "This too shall pass away". Indeed, nothing lasts forever, everything has a timeline. No matter how sad or sorrowful your life might feel right now, just know the time for joy and laughter must come so hold on to that expectation.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Casual outing</td></tr>
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I'm sure some of you might wonder if I've turned my blog to a political one, the answer is, NO. Politics just happens to be an area of interest which i most recently started cultivating. With the upcoming elections in 2015, I decided that it would be nice to raise some political awareness amongst fellow Nigerians and help us prepare our minds on what our focus should be, come 2015.<br />
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I would continue to thrill you with my short stories, poems etc and "The bitter drink" series continues on tomorrow. I greatly appreciate your patience and dedication to this blog and as always, your comments and emails keep me lifted.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">last night's dinner sauce</td></tr>
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HEAPED SPILLING OVER GRATITUDE TO YOU ALL.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-86519737142266017592014-01-30T05:21:00.001-08:002014-01-30T05:21:05.963-08:00MONKEY DEY WORK AND THE NIGERIAN DREAM<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">I am sitting on my writing desk at home. There is really nothing to write about. The muses have been pretty elusive these days. At such times as this when I seem to be in a rot, I close my eyes and day dream. I do not day dream about fluffy clouds or the scents of roses or satin sashes. No. I dream about practical things. Like how delightful it would be if the Abuja transportation was a little more efficient and less elitist. I dream about how fulfilling it would be if the suspicious glass ceiling hanging over the heads of Nigerians would magically disappear. And politics would be about issues and not about the scramble for a fast dwindling national cake. Sometimes, in this state of practical dreaminess, I remember the words of Edgar Alan Poe that, “all that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.” Our dreams and reality are not so different after all. Or to put it in another way, our dreams become our reality.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1391085295339_3177" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">I decided to set myself to task mercilessly on a quest of sorts. A Don Quixote quest to discover the Nigerian dream. To discover what the Nigerian dream is (or if we had any for that matter), I made a mental resolve to be pragmatic. To be pragmatic, I had to lay down a sort of basis. The Nigerian dream must not be personal like a particular young man who told me that his dream entailed a steaming bowl of pounded yam and a soup generously filled with meat. Another basis is that the dream has to be legal. Someone did tell me that his Nigerian dream was connected to a yahoo letter. This is obviously criminal. The Nigerian dream has to be all encompassing like the American dream. Something abstract yet reachable.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1391085295339_3382" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">This is another basis worth mentioning. Just like proven theories are ‘replicatable’, one should not be in doubt when he/she has reached that ‘oasis’ that is the Nigerian dream. We must be able to tell that Mr. so, so and so is living the Nigerian dream. I am told that the American dream is based on freedom, the right of her people to strive and work for a better life and an opportunity to be successful and prosperous.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1391085295339_3384" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">If this is true about the American dream, the Nigerian dream must be about the people. It must be that single thread that links the aspirations of everyone.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"> Seeing how Americans fight for their dream it is pertinent that the one we dream up for ourselves be worth fighting and dying for. So in my Don Quixotic quest, and after carefully weeding out dreams concerning steaming plates of food and other illegal stuff, I have come up with a wish list worth considering.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">These are:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">· </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A wish that Nigeria </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">conquers poverty, unemployment.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">· </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A wish to end </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">insecurity, looming social vices.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">· </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A wish for an improved </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">power sector</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">· </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A wish to be able to finance </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"> comfortable standard of living for families</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">· </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A wish to leave the shores of Nigeria for greener pastures(technically this wish wouldn’t be necessary if the country provided better opportunities)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">· </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">A wish for improved </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">education and health.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">· </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">And so on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">In a Nigeria where people</span><span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1391085295339_3391" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"> have had their guts virtually ripped out as a result of the sad/harrowing sights and experiences they have been exposed to, the wishes above are in order. <span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1391085295339_3396">But the quest for our Nigerian dream is not over yet. We could put all these wishes together and say that the Nigerian dream would be – a country of opportunities where everyone is free to strive, succeed and prosper anywhere they choose to within the country. </span>I had hoped not to play comparison in this post but I realized along the way that it is nearly impossible to explain the intricacies of one concept without citing the other. <span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1391085295339_3390">So I refer to the American dream once again. Though this dream is mostly inferred, there have been countless cases where it was expressed (in language of course). So we must find a way to express ours in a language indigenous to us. The language issue would have been a complex matter considering the myriad of languages available in Nigeria. But this problem was solved by an itinerant musician whom I still remember singing, ‘monkey dey work oo baboon dey chop…”. If I were to be asked what the Nigerian dream ought to be, I would express it as follows:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">“In dis country wey we dey, let monkey work, let monkey chop”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">Now this is just mine. The search is still on. What is yours?</span></div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-53839972794328535352014-01-30T04:59:00.002-08:002014-01-30T05:00:47.421-08:00REJOINER TO "THE UNFORTUNATE JOKE TAGGED POLITICS IN NIGERIA".<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /><br /><a href="http://i.istockimg.com/file_thumbview_approve/18090613/2/stock-photo-18090613-five-frowning-young-people-show-disapproval-with-thumbs-down.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEied0fLpHPcGkRl2INl7ZtRG8xOgcL_U__ki61NIDEGFZ58c2NEx47PVntD9jdntU4iY2TxNSKgiDHYoY5awRQihiI2EQo9xfJ3pUi_ezdavE7byBj-fe752ZQBReEVo489ElM4FZRyvC4zugAAeZ0vgzXItl4h2BrEIUthOITjW50DDhEjLwFaIO3Jn5f9efKF4DgoJ2WbqJZPL28189GSY4bP28f8RvqUTTOWzORsZxjkH20O4i5JExBEjaQhANGH68aeGhw7tNkciQXoiZ85=" /></a><br /><br /><br /> <br /><br /><br />After my post about Nigeria on Monday, i stumbled upon a brilliant expression of the line of thought that inspired my lash out. This facebook update by a fantastical writer friend of mine caught my eye, leaving me the only option of sharing it's wonder in my world. Read the post below:<br /><br /><br /> "I wonder. Is there really a limit to the vituperations a man can heap on his government? Can people for example say that if a northerner or southerner is not installed in 2015 then “Nigeria will burn” and go scot free? Isn’t this within their rights to predict? To engage in this socio scientific exercise of predicting the future? Where does one draw the line between a predictive statement and an inciting one- an innocent one and a treasonable one? Am I not perfectly within my rights to say what I feel without fear? Whether they are divinely inspired or propelled by sheer greed? I think a presidential candidate once spoke metaphorically about blood and baboons after he lost an election. Blood actually did flow and when you consider it, it still flows till date. After his prediction, many more politicians have been bitten by the violent prediction bug. Politics in Nigeria has thus been reduced to an ethnic balancing act where the threat of blood always lurks in the shadows.<br /><br /><br /> There should not be a limit to the insult I can sling on any one I like within the confines of my room. This is my right as long as my verbal rampage does not disturb my neigbours. I can poke fun at politicians, at their bulging stomachs, at their uncouth wives, at their unseasoned programs. I can criticize the policies of government and ask that people force them to be accountable. I can mobilize people to decry corrupt politicians or ask them to resign. And the literary disagreement between me and any writer can break into blatant name calling. This is shameful, but something that is within our rights to do. I guess.<br /><br /><br /> But I cannot tell youths that in 2015 we might need to take matters in our own hands if our tribal man is rigged out. Especially when taking matters in our hands entail blood and the loss of lives. I cannot threaten to kill as many Nigerians as I can if a particular candidate decides to run or not. Isn’t it akin to threatening to kill all your neighbours because your wife wouldn’t shave her pubic hair? Perhaps the analogy is a bit off but the maniacal impetus is still the same.<br /><br /><br /> My conclusion. I believe that we are not as politically naive as our political class believe. There are democratic ways of changing bad leadership and none of them entail the gutting of ordinary people. Megalomaniac politicians may ask us to paint the streets with blood. Still, we are within our rights to look them in the eye and say “No. Not this time. Not again!” "<br /><br /><br /> My last words are, 2015 elections will birth the real Nigeria<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 17.940000534057617px;">.</span></div>
<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2Fi.istockimg.com%2Ffile_thumbview_approve%2F18090613%2F2%2Fstock-photo-18090613-five-frowning-young-people-show-disapproval-with-thumbs-down.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEied0fLpHPcGkRl2INl7ZtRG8xOgcL_U__ki61NIDEGFZ58c2NEx47PVntD9jdntU4iY2TxNSKgiDHYoY5awRQihiI2EQo9xfJ3pUi_ezdavE7byBj-fe752ZQBReEVo489ElM4FZRyvC4zugAAeZ0vgzXItl4h2BrEIUthOITjW50DDhEjLwFaIO3Jn5f9efKF4DgoJ2WbqJZPL28189GSY4bP28f8RvqUTTOWzORsZxjkH20O4i5JExBEjaQhANGH68aeGhw7tNkciQXoiZ85=" --><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-47780613591745726652014-01-27T06:03:00.001-08:002014-01-27T06:07:21.479-08:00THE UNFORTUNATE JOKE TAGGED POLITICS, IN NIGERIA.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://benzironen.files.wordpress.com/2008/05/people-laughing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://benzironen.files.wordpress.com/2008/05/people-laughing.jpg" height="208" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
In kind terms, Nigerian politics can be likened to a gimmick by Muppets on a spinning stage of ever unfolding drama. Suffice it to say that this disheartening “show-off” has gone ahead to ridicule Nigeria’s intellectual capacity, and reduced us to a level where we now pass-off as a nation swamped by incompetent nitwits.<br />
<br />
While thinking this article, I had hoped to avoid insults of any sort until I was hit with the realization that it is impossible to honestly analyze Nigeria’s “Political Industry” without letting out a few harsh words. From Political Party Hoppers and their swaying allegiances to the rhythm of their collective selfish interests, to the exchange of open letters, the heaping of threats, sacks and resignations; Nigeria has become a drama yet to unfold. The ghost-policy of “No permanent friend, only permanent interests” has spawned a scandalous storm, grooming a nation set on a foundation of anarchy.<br />
<br />
53+ years later, the country is still sore from the wounds of broken promises which although yet to heal, continue to experience peeling and bruising by its political successors. This political ritual of un-kept promises has not only stuck its knife of betrayal deep in the heart of Nigerians but has also left citizens traumatized and abrasive to the word “trust” whenever it sits side by side with politics.<br />
<br />
It is no alien knowledge that the Nigerian government is a poor representation of the true nature of the country’s political ability. Hence, the words of Edmund Burke, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for god men to do nothing” are played out to full measure.<br />
<br />
With the latest release of the February 2015 election timetable, the brewing controversies on the side lines; one can only hope beyond realistic evidence that the coming elections will not be business as usual. Our expectations that the elections will exhibit a significant improvement from where 2011’s left off is a goal that we must fight vehemently to see achieved.<br />
<br />
We, Nigerians, must not fold our arms this time and allow our brutal history to repeat itself. We must set the pace now for the better future we hope to hand down to our children. Astute, civilized, tactical and impacting measure should therefore be adopted from this day for the realization of this aspiration. I must play my role, will you?<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-73737874653507270502014-01-17T07:25:00.002-08:002014-01-17T07:30:46.014-08:00THE BITTER DRINK 3<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.agemarker.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/sad_person_hospital.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.agemarker.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/sad_person_hospital.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
By the time Ekene opened her eyes, she knew she had no
secrets left. Her vision was still blurry and eye bags had deposited below her
lower eye lid on each eye. She blinked continuously as if the blinking would scratch
the scales that blurred her vision out of her eyes and though it did help clear
her vision up a little, it didn’t solve it completely. “This sucks!” she said
to herself biting her teeth under her breath. She had been admitted in one of the
hospital’s private wards and having just herself to contend with at the moment
was exactly what she wanted.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Beatrice walked into the ward, bearing a basket that
contained a food flask and a big bottle of water. She set the basket down on the
table beside Ekene’s bed and sat on the bed, close to her feet. As soon as
Beatrice’s buttocks touched the bed, Ekene pulled her legs away immediately and
readjusted the rest of her body to give Beatrice some good distance on the
small bed. Fortunately, no amount of
hatred could make Ekene resist Beatrice’s cooking at that time as the hunger in
her system had overtaken her entire being.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thirty scoops of rice later, Ekene’s blurry vision had
cleared up perfectly and she had gathered enough energy to speak. She set the flask aside in the basket, gulped some water
directly from the big bottle of water and heaved a sigh of relief as she put
the bottle back in the same basket. “I’m moving out” Ekene said, staring daringly at
Beatrice. “I’m sure you already know that I have cancer. Or don’t you?” She
said again with a rude stare. “The doctor only said that you have a tumor, he
never said anything about cancer” Beatrice replied in a cool voice. Ekene’s
hate-drama had come to the point where it bored her to non-challance. “He also
said that you have refused to show up for the continuation of the diagnosis. I’m
not surprised by your actions in any way. You hate me so much that you destroy
yourself for it.” Beatrice continued as she stood up to leave and then she
said, “You’re sick, Ekene and you think living alone right now is a wise
descision?”. “I won’t be living alone” Ekene
replied, “I’m going back to Abuja to be with my parents”.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ekene’s words hit Beatrice like the slap of an agbero. “You
wicked ingrate” Beatrice retorted, face swollen and throbbing from anger, “After
all that I’ve done for you! After everything you dare to call them your
parents! I’ve dedicated my life to trying to win your love but because of those
bloody thieves you hate me so much no matter how I try!”. Ekene sat in her bed
overtaken by fear. She had never seen Beatrice that angry in all the years she
had lived with her. “This cancer or tumour or whatever it is, is your curse! It
would eat you to death, you wicked curse of a child” Beatrice concluded and
stormed out of Ekene’s ward weeping.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-39506586137687100682014-01-16T06:29:00.001-08:002014-01-16T06:29:27.161-08:00WHAT'S LOYALTY GOT TO DO WITH IT?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://static4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20110803105726/finaldestination/images/7/7a/Arguement.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://static4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20110803105726/finaldestination/images/7/7a/Arguement.jpg" height="208" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Most people would agree with me that relationship matters are more complicated in this generation than they've ever been. I recently read a story about a lady who dated her brother's best friend for a while but the relationship unfortunately ended on a sour note because he cheated. The lady however now holds a grudge against her brother for staying friends with this ex who broke her heart not withstanding the fact that they had been best friends long before the lady ever dated the guy.<br />
<br />
The really sad part as far as I am concerned is the fact that the lady holds this grudge very strongly against her brother that she even no longer speaks to him. In my opinion I believe the lady is wrong and is taking things too far. I'm not in anyway commending her ex boyfriend's philandering ways or supporting her brother's choice to stay friends with this friend of his but I believe she ought to accord her brother his rights to choose his friends, no matter who they are. This is especially because her brother respected her choice to date the guy in their own time.<br />
<br />
I understand the lady's pain anyway because I would honestly feel betrayed by my brother if I were in her shoes but if she has expressed her displeasure to her brother, she shouldn't force him to accept it. I'm pretty sure that many of us have a friend or friends who have cheated in their relationships at one time or another so her brother isn't exactly an alien. Like the saying goes, "blood is thicker than water" so family matters a lot and i don't believe the issue is big enough to cost her relationship with her brother. She shouldn't give this ex the pleasure of slaying her twice.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.bookeasytriptravelblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/write-for-us.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.bookeasytriptravelblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/write-for-us.png" height="184" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
In other news, Courageous fingers is open to submissions from you my beloved readers. If there is any article, story, poem or any form of write up you'd love to share, email me at: <span style="color: #cc0000;">chizitereojiaka@yahoo.com</span>. I look forward to reading lots of emails from you. Enjoy the rest of your Thursday!!!<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-36131845059728605922014-01-15T07:33:00.001-08:002014-01-15T07:36:25.324-08:00THE FRONT DESK OFFICER<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every company, office, corporation, business outfit and the
like operates with a certain level of organizational structure. The level of
organizational structure usually differs depending on the size of the business
and the size of its operations. While some
companies/businesses employ a high level/complex structure, others employ
simpler structures.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZSXGZAnLsrganhgZpNlvwk5heCO-mazF4xEZDqjgS93NL3rFOCuJUNEy0azk2YY4lc-hHj1fId7T0iEEYS20W7zJitOSMEVt-meM11hAJ2no_lZwnr4pS-aAUnt7mNvqUTC8aIGhWL-s/s1600/fdo+chiz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZSXGZAnLsrganhgZpNlvwk5heCO-mazF4xEZDqjgS93NL3rFOCuJUNEy0azk2YY4lc-hHj1fId7T0iEEYS20W7zJitOSMEVt-meM11hAJ2no_lZwnr4pS-aAUnt7mNvqUTC8aIGhWL-s/s320/fdo+chiz.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chizitere as an FDO</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know you might be wondering my point with this my “organisational
structure” gist. Well, following the work experience I’m enjoying with my Place
of Primary Assignment, I decided to share tit bits of this experience with you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My job at PENCOM requires to me work as a Front Desk Officer
on certain days. A Front Desk Officer/Receptionist serves as the face of the
organisation in many cases. They are the official first point of contact for
visitors and whatever impression, information or vibe they give off to
visitors/customers is what some would take home as what your organization
represents. Many people take receptionists for granted and belittle their
operations and this is very wrong as it only turns around to affect your
business negatively.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is important for organizations to train their Front Desk
Officers/Receptionists on how to provide proper Customer Care Services, Human
relations as well as Ethical behaviour. This training equip the FDO with
adequate tools with which they can carry their duties out professionally. Asides
this training, I’d like to use this forum to reach out to FDOs/Receptionists
and give them a few pointers on how they can be better at their job.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1qJiMkrYg7ygIHsuiWZsu4a9p1yueAlEEWBnXl-cxwTmtcgV7SHYf6jFWljBa9TGhmwPcR9T4END6wLZNIVM0FG1N-AxHWU90pgf-tKD0AkguQR_W5NxQGTSUmp9BPFq82SOmtDdJV2s/s1600/IMG-20131230-00855.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 9.00900936126709px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; text-indent: -24px;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1qJiMkrYg7ygIHsuiWZsu4a9p1yueAlEEWBnXl-cxwTmtcgV7SHYf6jFWljBa9TGhmwPcR9T4END6wLZNIVM0FG1N-AxHWU90pgf-tKD0AkguQR_W5NxQGTSUmp9BPFq82SOmtDdJV2s/s320/IMG-20131230-00855.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span><span style="text-align: center; text-indent: -18pt;"> COME TO WORK HAPPY: As funny as this may sound,
it’s just the truth. Many Nigerians are in the habit of acting cranky or rude
to people at their work place. Some may blame it on the bad day they started
having from home or their way to work, ill health and a host of other excuses. This
however, is a TABOO for a FDO/Receptionist but doesn’t mean anyone should act
in that manner at all.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -18pt;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">LEARN PATIENCE AND TOLERANCE: If you’re not a patient person or you have
given up on your ability to ever learn patience, please do yourself a favour
and reject the FDO job you get. FOD need to be patient enough to handle the
concerns of their customers properly, even at the point when the customer
begins to heave insults on them. People have the tendency to be very difficult
to handle but your ability to be patient and tolerant would help you perform
your duties adequately.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -18pt;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">BE FRIENDLY AND RESPECTFUL: Most times, your
customers just need you to allay their fears and your warm attitude towards them
might just be all you need to change their mood for the better.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->4.<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -18pt;"> DRESS
NICELY, SMILE WARMLY: Imagine walking into an office to meet a shabbily dressed
FDO wearing a long face? Oh well, I don’t think I should say much on this point
after that imagination.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->5.<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -18pt;"> BE ATTENTIVE.</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->6.<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span><!--[endif]-->BE WILLING TO LEARN.</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->7.<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span><!--[endif]-->BE READY TO TAKE CORRECTION.</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
With these few points of mine, I
hope I have been able to educate you. Lol. Now go yee into the world and win
the hearts of your customers, workmates and superiors alike. *WINKS*</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-3561725796183484482014-01-10T04:30:00.001-08:002014-01-10T04:38:15.380-08:00THE BITTER DRINK 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://cdn.theatlantic.com/newsroom/old_wire/img/upload/2013/06/21/shutterstock_108255254/lead_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://cdn.theatlantic.com/newsroom/old_wire/img/upload/2013/06/21/shutterstock_108255254/lead_large.jpg" height="199" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Beatrice’s patience had finally run out. Her daughter had
refused to say anything to her, not even a single angry word or insult in
almost two weeks. Ekene on the other
hand had been hatching a plan of her own and still refused to break the news of
the doctors’ diagnosis to her mother. The doctors had still not confirmed if
the tumour in Ekene’s brain was cancerous or not as she had refused to go back
to the hospital. “What you don’t know can’t kill you” she concluded on the
night after the CT scan results came back. “I’ll just organize my life and live like I’m about to die. I won’t spend the little time I have hanging on to
flimsy hope. “</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ekene decided that
she had more important things to focus on and set out to start achieving them
immediately. She had already begun negotiations with a few property agents. The
first agenda on her bucket list was to finally get a place of her own and move
out of her mother’s house once and for all. While Ekene went about pursuing her
business, Beatrice stayed enveloped by her own worries. She was considering
confronting her daughter about what was going on with her that kept her more
distant. “She’s still my daughter no matter what and it’s better we fight all
the time than for her to totally ignore me and not say a word to me”. Beatrice is a strong resilient woman who
never gave up hope that her daughter would love her. There would be no backing
down for her as long as she is alive.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Two weeks had passed and Ekene’s house hunt still proved fruitless.
She had been unsuccessful at finding an apartment that met up with what she had
in mind as they always came with on comma or the other. Ekene had slowly begun
to grow impatient, although she kept her desperation in check. After work and a
short house tour, Ekene headed home. A wicked headache was bashing her head
again but she was getting used to the pain and had learnt to ignore it. Beatrice
was at home by the time Ekene got home and opened the door for her as soon as
the bell rang. She stepped aside to give Ekene room to walk in then closed the
door after her. Ekene went straight into her room without breathing the fainted
word to Beatrice but Beatrice didn’t let it worry her too much. She glanced at
the house clock as she sat back on the sofa. She wasn’t going to bombard Ekene
right after she came back, she would give her some time to settle down before
going in to talk with her. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30 minutes later, Beatrice decided it was ok for her to go
check up on her daughter. She walked in to find Ekene’s door open while Ekene herself
lay in bed whining in pain, saying “Oh God, my head... Oh God, my head... Oh
God my head” repeatedly. Beatrice ran into the room and held Ekene in her hand
asking her what was wrong. The pain was so excruciating that Ekene didn’t have
the time to notice that she was in the embrace of her arc enemy. Shortly after Beatrice held Ekene in her hand, Ekene passed out. Thrown into panic, Beatrice dumped Ekene on the bed and ran out of the room...<br />
<br />
...TO BE CONTINUED...</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-44439312848370662222014-01-03T03:29:00.001-08:002014-01-03T03:29:50.868-08:00THE BITTER DRINK 1<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEierNWVNaycNH8z7sUN3p70FjVgMWp4lyI_mquuKNO1alk_HTNhKhNePpBMtaVpyCpPykcsFJ9vpFJ4Aysaf1GKLRZcV-V0_BaRSkUzq7n5wHSsodwzI3rwwnxYt1th_7Cpbs7zgcD-vgk/s1600/blog2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEierNWVNaycNH8z7sUN3p70FjVgMWp4lyI_mquuKNO1alk_HTNhKhNePpBMtaVpyCpPykcsFJ9vpFJ4Aysaf1GKLRZcV-V0_BaRSkUzq7n5wHSsodwzI3rwwnxYt1th_7Cpbs7zgcD-vgk/s320/blog2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Who would have known it was ever possible to hate a person’s
mother the way Ekene did? Don’t get me wrong o, her mother was not irresponsible,
wicked or in any way worth the hatred yet Ekene hated her all the same. Ekene’s
father on the other hand had been absent from her life so she didn’t get the
chance to love or hate him. At 25, she had become pretty independent but for
some reason best known to her, she chose to keep living with her mother even
when she could afford her own place.</div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Two years ago, Ekene begun to experience sudden bolts of excruciating
headaches. They would hit hard suddenly and the pain stayed on for a while. Sometimes
the headaches ran consistently for three to four days giving her only a couple
of hours as a breather. After a month of the same complaints and haven
treated for malaria and typhoid, the doctors advised Ekene that a CT scan was
the next option so that they could take a look at her brain for what might be
causing the constant headaches. Ekene never let her mum accompany her on any of
her appointments with the doctors. She had grown so deep in the hatred for her
mother that she rubbed it in any way she could</span></div>
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Beatrice, Ekene’s mother, drowned in her sorrows. The only
child she ever bore hated her bitterly for no reason. Her worries aged her
faster but the death she craved stayed far away. She knew it was a grievous sin
to commit suicide so her strong religious beliefs wouldn’t let her consider it. For longer than she could remember, she had prayed to God to give her
daughter a change of heart and was beginning to lose hope that her prayers
would ever be answered.</div>
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The CT scan results came back, a malignant tumor was
growing in Ekene’s head. The day the news was broken to her, her world froze
for one second then spun violently for another.
The doctors explained that they had to operate on her so they could take
a sample of the tumor for biopsy. Only after the biopsy could they know for
sure the kind of tumor they were dealing with. Ekene’s mind had already
wandered away from the point when it was announced to her that she has a
tumor. The doctor’s words fell like vapour on her face. She could see his
mouth move but heard no word he said. Life as she knew it was about to
crumble and she didn’t have adequate funds to sustain cancer treatment, if it
indeed turned out to be cancer. Who was she kidding? Only a cancerous tumor
could grow in the manner that hers did. The doctor tried to convince her not to lose hope.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1wUsNhrtLG3uL5cblVFzentpGTnBxcEYKo-0h0J0Zv_NnJYqpm2xaRw7Amc7nl9l_LUf_IsRVSwrfASxmdqhZcNP2LT8CodOGadzAvqowG3JXuP6BOK0GJFhYGgb20EmhdqZ6VK2zNNE/s1600/blog1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1wUsNhrtLG3uL5cblVFzentpGTnBxcEYKo-0h0J0Zv_NnJYqpm2xaRw7Amc7nl9l_LUf_IsRVSwrfASxmdqhZcNP2LT8CodOGadzAvqowG3JXuP6BOK0GJFhYGgb20EmhdqZ6VK2zNNE/s320/blog1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Ekene kept the news from her mother. The fear of impending
death would still not loosen up her hatred for Beatrice. That night, neither of
them had a good night sleep. Beatrice’s gut told her something was wrong but
she knew better than to ask her daughter about it so she stayed back and let it
beat her up. Ekene on the other hand lay still on her bed and stared at the ceiling
for hours. Her mind swam with different thoughts. That night was the worst night Ekene had ever had but with what awaited her future, this night would be crossed off her list soon enough.</div>
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...TO BE CONTINUED...</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-32253337692170895072014-01-02T02:16:00.003-08:002014-01-02T02:16:36.974-08:00TEN THINGS I KNOW TO BE TRUE<br />
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Happy new year, everyone. 2014 looks promising indeed.<br />
I started my year by giving myself a good treat. I attended mass, the best experience of mass I've ever had. After that, I went to see a movie. I had earlier planned to visit a family friend but changed my mind along the way as I considered it would be better to start the year with something special and more personal. It had been over one year since I last took myself out or had a lovely solo hangout so I did it, I took me to the movies then had a drink afterward.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeGF4XtRQxDo7eHNLX0qioFSnqZ0w29iAXWRwtIHdUOKos-Z0RfGUT-9O1JLKd15UTw3Zr27DabWCTNkgWod1xl-SZlAhJ-LVyGymKfQ5BE8CDoCUhgVHF3Ud34f70bvr7OMqVqFPRQtQ/s1600/1522607_10153615897560167_96301512_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeGF4XtRQxDo7eHNLX0qioFSnqZ0w29iAXWRwtIHdUOKos-Z0RfGUT-9O1JLKd15UTw3Zr27DabWCTNkgWod1xl-SZlAhJ-LVyGymKfQ5BE8CDoCUhgVHF3Ud34f70bvr7OMqVqFPRQtQ/s320/1522607_10153615897560167_96301512_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My happy new year to me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I wrote a poem this morning, a lovely way to start 2014. The poem is titled Ten things I know to be true. i was inspired to write this after I watch spoken word performances by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O2UU3y58iuk&noredirect=1" target="_blank">Alysia Harris</a>,.<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0snNB1yS3IE" target="_blank">Sarah kay</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mdJ6aUB2K4g" target="_blank">Phil Kaye</a> (You can click on their names to watch the videos) and actually got the title of my poem from Sarah's speech at TED. This is my own love poem. Read, enjoy and have a lovely 2014<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
TEN THINGS I KNOW TO BE TRUE</div>
Your love tastes like magic.<br />
<br />
Your silence has two tastes.<br />
<br />
The silence that keeps your eyes<br />
Away from mine tears down my throat,<br />
Scratching my insides till they are sour.<br />
<br />
The silence that keeps your eyes locked with mine<br />
Makes me feel like I'm being hugged by a soft wind.<br />
It's like landing on snow flakes packed<br />
Together like a purified bed, non-freezing.<br />
<br />
Your touch is as soothing as the stare<br />
From a one day old baby's blank eyes.<br />
<br />
Your smile is as peaceful as the whisper<br />
Of pines in-tune with the morning breeze.<br />
<br />
Your anger is like harmattan dryness<br />
Soaking away moisture till my skin<br />
Is dry enough to be cut by paper.<br />
<br />
Your whisper is silent.<br />
But even when the words are unheard,<br />
You paint the picture perfectly in my mind.<br />
<br />
Your happiness is infectious,<br />
It sips into my angriest veins,<br />
Driving out all my anger.<br />
<br />
The tenth thing I know to be true is that,<br />
You love me.<br />
Even when it drives you crazy,<br />
You love me...<br />
<br />
-Chizitere.<br />
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-51612137731058463712014-01-02T01:35:00.001-08:002014-01-02T01:35:30.264-08:00<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-63868005131080477602013-12-19T06:20:00.000-08:002013-12-19T07:55:41.975-08:00THE NOTE TUCKED IN MY JEANS (SHORT STORY)<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
I found this old short story of mine. I just realized that i never shared it here. Read and enjoy.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Two years ago, I graduated from high school and my best friend throughout high school died a year later in a car accident. Amaka had gotten accepted into MIT and resumption was in less than a week from that day. She was on her way to the airport with her dad when the accident happened. Her dad survived, while she died on the spot as a result of the hit to her head.<span id="more-5163" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I can still remember her face vividly when I close my eyes, although the image that keeps coming up is that sad face she wore on the morning of the accident as she left the hospital. I had been admitted for hepatitis two days earlier and couldn’t escort her to the airport as a result. Amaka spent her last night with me in the hospital and left by morning.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It was the best night I had ever spent in any hospital. We saw some movies together on her laptop, then talked and talked for hours into the night. We shared enough cries and laughter that night, talked about our regrets and the things we would do later in life. I remember how she cracked jokes and teased, especially when she said, “Oyin, abeg get well fast and come join me in yankee before I die of loneliness there”. I couldn’t understand it when the news of her death came the next morning.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I was sure that death had made a very big mistake this time. I just couldn’t understand how or why Amaka would just die like that, or why we didn’t have a feeling or a premonition or anything that warned us about it.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Her funeral took place two weeks later and just like that, my best friend for six years was gone. Neither Amaka’s family members nor I knew how to bear the loss. Even after the burial, we still couldn’t understand how we were to mourn her. The shock her death left us in, still hasn’t worn out, one year later.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I recently pulled out a pair of my old jeans while I was sorting through my stuff. It was the same one that was hanging in the wardrobe of the room I was staying in at the hospital, a year ago. I found a neatly folded piece of paper, tucked in it’s back pocket. I hadn’t worn the jeans in a longtime so the paper I found must have been there for a very long time.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I unfolded the piece of paper and it turned out it was a letter that had been addressed to me and it was written by Amaka. The letter read:<br />“Oyin, you’ve been my best friend for 6 years now and there is no one I know who understands me like you do. I’ve been battling with a secret since SS2 and I believe I owe you the truth, at least before I leave for yankee tomorrow. Oyin, I’ve always loved you more that I can understand. I stayed as you best friend all these years, because it was the only way I could stay close to you. I feel happiest when I’m with you and it took me till now to really understand why. Please don’t take this the wrong way but I’ll appreciate if things between us change as soon as we get to yankee. I can’t be your best friend anymore. I can’t keep hanging around you and pretending about who I am. I can’t do it anymore. I’m a lesbian, Oyin and I love you. I want us to be more intimate. I hope you understand what I’m trying to say. I promise that we’d talk better when we see. Please come to yankee soon. Love you always, Amaka.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I felt a gush of blood flow to my brain as soon as I got to the end of the letter. I was utterly shocked. I became more confused about Amaka than I was with her death. Non of it made sense. How could she have been gay? How could she have loved me that much and never told me? How can you know someone for six years and still not know them? In all of my confusion, I slumped into the closest chair and let my mind wander…</span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-52449209911502027442013-12-19T02:36:00.003-08:002013-12-19T05:21:38.806-08:00CAFFEINE OVERDOSE<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Hello, you coffee mate, have you ever experienced caffeine overdose?</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6052/6243872839_8d77fd15bf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18.01801872253418px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6052/6243872839_8d77fd15bf.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I was a victim of it earlier this
week and believe me, it was no funny experience at all.I made my coffee with
lots of milk and sugar to drown the bitter taste of the coffee as I had put in
quite a lot hoping it would keep me up through out the day. The mixture turned
out nice as it tasted in a sweet bitter manner that blew my mind. I had started
off taking the coffee to keep me focused for the pile of newspapers I had to
review for the office but the more I drank it, I enjoyed it so much and longed
for another sip.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I remember when a friend of mine experienced it, it took almost one week
for the effect of hers to wear off. Lucky for me, the two incidences I've
experienced lasted only for a couple of hours. Most of you might have
fallen victim of this without knowing what it was or what to do about
it. You can get </span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://www.caffeineinformer.com/caffeine-overdose-facts-and-fiction" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; line-height: 115%;">More about caffeine overdose</span></a> so
next time you've had a lot of coffee and you feel sick, you'd have an idea what
it might be. As first aid treatment though, what I do is drink lots of water,
and by lots of water i mean LOTS! Practically purge you<o:p></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 115%; text-align: center;">rself with water. Drinking lots of water is a very healthy habit everyone should cultivate</span></div>
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<a href="http://assets.antiguaobserver.com/2013/11/Water-supply.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://assets.antiguaobserver.com/2013/11/Water-supply.jpg" width="319" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 19.519519805908203px;">Caffeine</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> overdose can be a serious problem and it's important for anyone</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> who takes it to be informed about what it's overdose can cause. I hope this information comes in handy for many of us so make sure you drink responsibly! lol,.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Seriously though, don't get addicted to anything or take too much of it. Too much hardly goes well for anything.</span></div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-13629186477097894582013-12-19T01:44:00.001-08:002013-12-19T02:43:44.544-08:00THE WEEKEND AHEAD<h2>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">It’s a beautiful day today! Yesterday was my parents’ silver
jubilee anniversary but I was so busy at work that I didn’t get a chance to
blog about it. I was also down with the flu, so you can imagine the amount of
discomfort I experienced yesterday.</span></h2>
<h2>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Good news is, I’m a lot healthier now and I’m getting giddy
for the weekend. My superiors were magnanimous enough to grant me a few days
off duty so I could enjoy the Jubilee celebration with my family as well as
Christmas. </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I guess it's not too late to wish my parents a happy wedding anniversary and celebrate them. I'm blessed to have them as my parents and it's been wonderful growing up with them all my life.</span></h2>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTUr9GFrcMXgmuJGB7-fmCvPgHtkyUt62ipIq1GIXdmw8ryBTl7ydzEDMbQtEiD0Ozr3GZU_btF6a0TUUzvdDA2Pa8RG6BMz1tVLkHeCHdQp_gIaTzpRMb5VsnvI4XdyRSSNbs0PX3vvM/s1600/mum+n+dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTUr9GFrcMXgmuJGB7-fmCvPgHtkyUt62ipIq1GIXdmw8ryBTl7ydzEDMbQtEiD0Ozr3GZU_btF6a0TUUzvdDA2Pa8RG6BMz1tVLkHeCHdQp_gIaTzpRMb5VsnvI4XdyRSSNbs0PX3vvM/s320/mum+n+dad.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad and Mum</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">On another note, I'll be sharing a few pictures with you. I've become a bit of a fashionista these days and it does feel good to have people commend the way you look. Asides that,I've coming to realize that feeling good about yourself helps one's psyche. You're comfortable and able to carry yourself respectfully. I'd rather not say anymore, I hope you enjoy the pictures.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjezqhs48znG-XBcRVWOFGd9Zz6NmQnZbzcbz6kS-KPaPDsF5Eu1En8A9Sm0AYuo3O83_h6di2_XH-qeWLyqSL6ZcR_OG_NgeSmjeh-9aGxq3jYpwpY4T-JjKA5UWqxAYatMmH7lovCKc8/s1600/coffee+post.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjezqhs48znG-XBcRVWOFGd9Zz6NmQnZbzcbz6kS-KPaPDsF5Eu1En8A9Sm0AYuo3O83_h6di2_XH-qeWLyqSL6ZcR_OG_NgeSmjeh-9aGxq3jYpwpY4T-JjKA5UWqxAYatMmH7lovCKc8/s320/coffee+post.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add caption</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-VR_0VX0KNfi-pV6J8sxmf9gIcCp0VIFCKpXsMk5DOMENwnuHjQn7Fkc_vCoRutgeiUUqP9hX3L52Yrj9zZVCabRUBDB0PKye-rxqAjaBNhFoXgCMoEbQaLgaA7zzJTLvTb0M3x4znD4/s1600/coffee+post+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-VR_0VX0KNfi-pV6J8sxmf9gIcCp0VIFCKpXsMk5DOMENwnuHjQn7Fkc_vCoRutgeiUUqP9hX3L52Yrj9zZVCabRUBDB0PKye-rxqAjaBNhFoXgCMoEbQaLgaA7zzJTLvTb0M3x4znD4/s320/coffee+post+4.jpg" width="238" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZV5tDc1a363Aa28CgcMWg7jdMHOAYXbkYai4a7RX9haTi-YqGwRgkeIDS4EWUoVJQYwasKEaxeriQSFN3B9lgr2K9RDyPWy00QMhjmtTwP6ZI_EkstCkFiL1MPqCJjtVF3qnbYHSxuIw/s1600/coffe+post3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZV5tDc1a363Aa28CgcMWg7jdMHOAYXbkYai4a7RX9haTi-YqGwRgkeIDS4EWUoVJQYwasKEaxeriQSFN3B9lgr2K9RDyPWy00QMhjmtTwP6ZI_EkstCkFiL1MPqCJjtVF3qnbYHSxuIw/s320/coffe+post3.jpg" width="238" /></a></div>
</span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3m8m5cmkqFFXWjdQT7UshQgr_TuA2xXrINxkZ_iwqbOmFCt-J3mkYypjvAIhSorTnYixD3CrD1lxTvyZEKHForWH6r0tcS69rG-X5ELNOM7Ye4vrkoLbWpAavc7zPGTsa8yMo4yZCfi4/s1600/coffee+post2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3m8m5cmkqFFXWjdQT7UshQgr_TuA2xXrINxkZ_iwqbOmFCt-J3mkYypjvAIhSorTnYixD3CrD1lxTvyZEKHForWH6r0tcS69rG-X5ELNOM7Ye4vrkoLbWpAavc7zPGTsa8yMo4yZCfi4/s320/coffee+post2.jpg" width="238" /></a><br />
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I'll also be sharing pictures of some of my work mates. These people have been wonderful to me and they are part of the reason i look forward to coming to work everyday.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY8VrniMhHimfaXInYBLLFe2g-2u5KfPb3Sk3dADPRkQgQdOAVrYGGPCTL2rX0cn9PCb5LxxX3dGOGMt5oskBkxDu-Vs0NPncrpUVWR3uwW8Qe9ptNTr3YCgQ_G3dHfFvko7nXbY3Mwyo/s1600/coffee+post+work+ma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY8VrniMhHimfaXInYBLLFe2g-2u5KfPb3Sk3dADPRkQgQdOAVrYGGPCTL2rX0cn9PCb5LxxX3dGOGMt5oskBkxDu-Vs0NPncrpUVWR3uwW8Qe9ptNTr3YCgQ_G3dHfFvko7nXbY3Mwyo/s320/coffee+post+work+ma.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fatima and Muteeu</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQsiwMHG8jZHe-QtvKep7qIsZtKOFsKsJDeUsvLEez9k9LUFB3ikGR4C5ES2foY94WwluBPZOkVZ1Flo6JrncqnlXvUbmCnzu2y542kXSNY3UNfJOsZBMm3sruvvyla8i9KryGRsqtrkI/s1600/coffee+post+work+mates.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQsiwMHG8jZHe-QtvKep7qIsZtKOFsKsJDeUsvLEez9k9LUFB3ikGR4C5ES2foY94WwluBPZOkVZ1Flo6JrncqnlXvUbmCnzu2y542kXSNY3UNfJOsZBMm3sruvvyla8i9KryGRsqtrkI/s320/coffee+post+work+mates.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amaka, Fatima and I </td></tr>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-54081134684392898022013-12-16T00:16:00.001-08:002013-12-16T00:16:10.041-08:00UNSTOPPABLE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: center;">Hey people, a happy new week to you! I hope your weekend was better than mine, although I think I had the best weekend and I'm happy to be back to work this Monday. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXq_usszJj72l4RBNhgQjD1grnbZlG0rOgP8ihQq9beRkYKIPpdQKZmqEcJyHktH2MrvHzlfW7FlaA363yjojessSCtEbi0pcStB2PIca1OC9H0vpJYbqFLi9TexKYn-HAbTscm64V7wA/s1600/post6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXq_usszJj72l4RBNhgQjD1grnbZlG0rOgP8ihQq9beRkYKIPpdQKZmqEcJyHktH2MrvHzlfW7FlaA363yjojessSCtEbi0pcStB2PIca1OC9H0vpJYbqFLi9TexKYn-HAbTscm64V7wA/s320/post6.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monday morning</td></tr>
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I was able to get my much needed good rest after the "worky" week i had then on Saturday evening, I went shopping with my roommate to re-stock the house. Sunday was the coolest day. I went sightseeing with some friends. We drove around the city for a while then wrapped the day up with dinner at a place I now call my favourite Chinese restaurant. The service there is impeccable while the food tasted like magic on my tongue. Sinoni is the name of the place. <br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgHWo3BgBEPUMGrC8NYLQiBBfF3KeLn34pUB7dZO8VJys7quJSEFMFr7ssPoKRRv4ua-AmxDKFFGjqWhZiqsZ2YaSyVztOjjWyxsOJlTdnhV7jIYWzgFtF-QHLjkWwV8bXIWvFByx80lM/s1600/post8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgHWo3BgBEPUMGrC8NYLQiBBfF3KeLn34pUB7dZO8VJys7quJSEFMFr7ssPoKRRv4ua-AmxDKFFGjqWhZiqsZ2YaSyVztOjjWyxsOJlTdnhV7jIYWzgFtF-QHLjkWwV8bXIWvFByx80lM/s320/post8.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">the appetizer.<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwoyBli1SqM-6yw07HXk3xYgB3xElWUvPeWStnFAwpxdsjRuajpJnISmPEniOHsUZfqU6CtlWAG2LSpGm1DZpGmRsRR2AlsXIBhvSp-ScQ7vKKaEXPtYJZl5xuBjjZWSCmXcXYKm4f-bA/s1600/post5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwoyBli1SqM-6yw07HXk3xYgB3xElWUvPeWStnFAwpxdsjRuajpJnISmPEniOHsUZfqU6CtlWAG2LSpGm1DZpGmRsRR2AlsXIBhvSp-ScQ7vKKaEXPtYJZl5xuBjjZWSCmXcXYKm4f-bA/s320/post5.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The meal was so delicious that i had already eaten it half way before i remembered to take a picture. lol</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXHnS16fObRQunPBUYVEGnNaGm2Lz0x7-K16R5ULaXRJo0p_olRVtaVQnKV56Yauuk1e9XB3UAB5ow8OfHIMik7inPxTaX3DNxKBgXGurTee2KCRDy-pF1mLnghBaZ2FDusYVMfIP585Q/s1600/post4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXHnS16fObRQunPBUYVEGnNaGm2Lz0x7-K16R5ULaXRJo0p_olRVtaVQnKV56Yauuk1e9XB3UAB5ow8OfHIMik7inPxTaX3DNxKBgXGurTee2KCRDy-pF1mLnghBaZ2FDusYVMfIP585Q/s320/post4.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">waiting for the meal</td></tr>
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I've tagged this post "unstoppable" because it's one word that describes exactly how i feel right now. My come back post was a huge success i'd say. I got overwhelming feedback and every response was positive and encouraging. Thank you so much.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmzja-e7Ap93wQo9tqWgtUPdhYy2djlVp256R_VwfWUU54SDoysQ5zZE_1PplvSrB2uVnl6kXsvKg6HlQPHhaZl3VWPK-zSSgKpFYoBcMVTYMnxpKmCepCuLyyFX8vlkc2OZNGUhqAdtA/s1600/post1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmzja-e7Ap93wQo9tqWgtUPdhYy2djlVp256R_VwfWUU54SDoysQ5zZE_1PplvSrB2uVnl6kXsvKg6HlQPHhaZl3VWPK-zSSgKpFYoBcMVTYMnxpKmCepCuLyyFX8vlkc2OZNGUhqAdtA/s320/post1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">me</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOrkXgYbMV_46dVsO00Ot5wct-Q5oWh4tU57dNoBSVK85AWcuTjjv_PG1DlXiQghM6uNufGya6j1c2z1dsQZye1UPtk6XsW2OhH_25Q4dWHcBHPEqnDBhotN8qzJX1MhbZ7Oy2GvdLMiE/s1600/post2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOrkXgYbMV_46dVsO00Ot5wct-Q5oWh4tU57dNoBSVK85AWcuTjjv_PG1DlXiQghM6uNufGya6j1c2z1dsQZye1UPtk6XsW2OhH_25Q4dWHcBHPEqnDBhotN8qzJX1MhbZ7Oy2GvdLMiE/s320/post2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">nice view right?</td></tr>
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My parents would be celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary this weekend. It's going to be a remarkable weekend for my family and I'm looking forward to it with great anticipation. I wish you all a lovely week ahead.<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-63648952723784048302013-12-13T06:49:00.000-08:002013-12-13T07:38:23.104-08:00A NEW DAWN ON COURAGEOUS FINGERS BLOG ( MY COME-BACK POST)<div>
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It has been one year and two months and I haven't posted a single blog post!!!!! i cant believe I've been away for that long. I feel like such a horrible person right now :(<br />
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Oh well, not to worry, I'm back for good now and hopefully it would take something absolutely bigger than me to keep me away for so long again. So how have you been? What did i miss? etc etc. I missed you while i was away and I<span style="text-align: center;">'ve kept looking forward to this day when i just put everything else aside and write this post.</span></div>
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Here's a summary of how my life has been so far though: </div>
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1. In February, I graduated!!!! Whoop! Whoop! After a tough yet wonderful experience with the University of Nigeria Nsukka, i graduated with honours and bagged my B.Sc. hehehehe I'm a big girl now.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaA6ZqRL7buqLjD3uSJdxatWIvvQzQIA9A5J8symBNyy76awpvjc3jcNMxAf27XJgWwArz6r1oalmTIsSHKVACmL0sSWSz457mFbjSlKebiX-p03D-YTe3covRROzCOtZHp6LzLsoSyWE/s1600/SYSTEM+STUDIO+(4).jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">on my convocation day</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: center;">2. In June I sat for and passed my certification in management course without any hassles. So I'm a member of the Nigeria Institute of Management.</span><br />
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3. July, I got employed by Gender and Child rights Initiative as programs officer for 4 months while i waited for Nigeria's National Youth Service Corp program.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC9ecbtb-PldsAsjzIcIpG-mQo9Nv6O6g3h1sUrckuDwaoCY7M6kGHEOl889ABtMaCePL_mp5ylyaujPUOCcJwpd4Zi0yAcsDYwiTzW0Aja6AX8qPS20JK0SCR27UlLZdMomYzI7rlfh0/s1600/IMG-20130902-01517.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC9ecbtb-PldsAsjzIcIpG-mQo9Nv6O6g3h1sUrckuDwaoCY7M6kGHEOl889ABtMaCePL_mp5ylyaujPUOCcJwpd4Zi0yAcsDYwiTzW0Aja6AX8qPS20JK0SCR27UlLZdMomYzI7rlfh0/s320/IMG-20130902-01517.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">at Gender and Child rights Initiative. My sister came visiting :D</td></tr>
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4. I received my call-up letter for National youth service in November and reported to the orientation camp 4 days after for the 3-week orientation camp exercise. Now i'm working with Nigeria's National Pensions Commission as my Place of Primary Assignment.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7qts5w0QLrGbHYow781jr7a5nbjNA77NC1_R-WraYzhDXT14F_XoY9oW5i1TZXPBFAht8XRs4dgd6NQcuDw0LWj8dO2kUKLQOygwkwhD7FEZKR3AYeu-EPQRUlU9Fce1LqHusOlM553c/s1600/Abuja-20131111-00150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7qts5w0QLrGbHYow781jr7a5nbjNA77NC1_R-WraYzhDXT14F_XoY9oW5i1TZXPBFAht8XRs4dgd6NQcuDw0LWj8dO2kUKLQOygwkwhD7FEZKR3AYeu-EPQRUlU9Fce1LqHusOlM553c/s320/Abuja-20131111-00150.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drumming for my Platoon's dance presentation in camp</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCqQ2JrPXRaawjln_pKH4PBfTMLP92ocO-xx6C7zMw_qf174MxCphUeJxoluuewWS07gqKpm1LqD2gJ3eCm1_UyXfjgS7bM73QW5ZzQcmS208B-8v65d3R1I1LxpeDYkI-N8j9xZ6VfV0/s1600/IMG-20131105-00100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCqQ2JrPXRaawjln_pKH4PBfTMLP92ocO-xx6C7zMw_qf174MxCphUeJxoluuewWS07gqKpm1LqD2gJ3eCm1_UyXfjgS7bM73QW5ZzQcmS208B-8v65d3R1I1LxpeDYkI-N8j9xZ6VfV0/s320/IMG-20131105-00100.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">first day on camp</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmYeE0rjdd3NZGNxZ9fYn5ZpV4VxdAJIPMd9QTtwgnjpVwR3PaoLbons3Iat_kJxlcGfTIRmTy4lPUGnupoJs2Dm4I8s90pTaVfj-B5QsAuon-u8_PDsclbHNedryeeBJSoMvVJASwTaM/s1600/Abuja-20131121-00264.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmYeE0rjdd3NZGNxZ9fYn5ZpV4VxdAJIPMd9QTtwgnjpVwR3PaoLbons3Iat_kJxlcGfTIRmTy4lPUGnupoJs2Dm4I8s90pTaVfj-B5QsAuon-u8_PDsclbHNedryeeBJSoMvVJASwTaM/s320/Abuja-20131121-00264.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">on fine evening in camp</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2OvulB7WjTADjUZA43TMupaLIMNeHu_0IptR2OmWa-mkyO8xekm6q-05fVv-igQjjyWAp0_ZAAKBCmtFEYS9WxVEl75i2rOxOQ49UuW0GYrm6ohTK3iF9MfDmaPtaOsZCHWYabXr7LDI/s1600/IMG-20131107-00129.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2OvulB7WjTADjUZA43TMupaLIMNeHu_0IptR2OmWa-mkyO8xekm6q-05fVv-igQjjyWAp0_ZAAKBCmtFEYS9WxVEl75i2rOxOQ49UuW0GYrm6ohTK3iF9MfDmaPtaOsZCHWYabXr7LDI/s320/IMG-20131107-00129.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">swear-in day</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMJQFyyibDv89r_Thc-aXsIuQA12NGunI94HNfCa8cusFDxwZ9UB5KUGjt5lZbPLItuPTXYiCZsV1b9Q-gPSvcQ6x1beChyZjxaIK5E4H0TANBEM7CkQ3gUw8ARXm2l75wA-jRyCHpk0s/s1600/IMG-20131123-00281.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMJQFyyibDv89r_Thc-aXsIuQA12NGunI94HNfCa8cusFDxwZ9UB5KUGjt5lZbPLItuPTXYiCZsV1b9Q-gPSvcQ6x1beChyZjxaIK5E4H0TANBEM7CkQ3gUw8ARXm2l75wA-jRyCHpk0s/s320/IMG-20131123-00281.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cultural day in camp</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
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<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF2OMozo7RrgjVGg2BNuhjL7d1htTy2WqSyKYBSnpG99mXBlUBZv9em6bnfxgiVXDEHnHlUf3EQ3HLFgN0AnBfbTWoRcMh6PiPiHITrWZG1qzvu_AxQB0vlDcQKeUEkwtaoRzh3ytGUbM/s1600/IMG-20131119-00231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF2OMozo7RrgjVGg2BNuhjL7d1htTy2WqSyKYBSnpG99mXBlUBZv9em6bnfxgiVXDEHnHlUf3EQ3HLFgN0AnBfbTWoRcMh6PiPiHITrWZG1qzvu_AxQB0vlDcQKeUEkwtaoRzh3ytGUbM/s320/IMG-20131119-00231.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with some friends from camp.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
In summary, the year has been beautiful! I have so much to be grateful to God for, so many blessings and testimonies. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life and I've grown in my relationship with God. I've met and fostered wonderful friendships/relationships with the most amazing people in this world, like I own a bank of wonderful people.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2OsqXBX2c7-VLYUcfhHwiESu-BdCJfsKxDuSHoCElbygjkJGqGsc3xQaDPfifRqmF-f0gH4rl9r7X_Aa845XM0clGAEfyN57k3gNrQeVCSo6ieBLa1oecYjOFkRS5m6EfeQV_EjLcAoc/s1600/shalom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2OsqXBX2c7-VLYUcfhHwiESu-BdCJfsKxDuSHoCElbygjkJGqGsc3xQaDPfifRqmF-f0gH4rl9r7X_Aa845XM0clGAEfyN57k3gNrQeVCSo6ieBLa1oecYjOFkRS5m6EfeQV_EjLcAoc/s320/shalom.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">at arts and crafts village, FCT</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
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<div>
Crowning my happiness at this point is the fact that i have you my lovely readers to share my stories with. I plan to update you regularly about how my life plays out for the next one year of my service to Nigeria and by God's grace i'll become addicted to it and keep you posted about my life after service, career, motherhood, education etc.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So far i must say i'm enjoying my job and i love everything i do here. Everyone in my department has been helpful and drop-dead patient with putting this new girl through how the system works here. I've already gotten a few good reports from my superiors and even clients. After i attended to a certain military man's call one day, the man had to call back after over an hour of trying to reach us, just to thank me for the way i attended to him and pray for me.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1xS7iYrvsgHc70gQpZRh3TLc-iqZTx8St0Tb5dwcU63nOt18u7wuTbrALsUm5Gsh_HIvAbfdhqTNLFFj-GdyeK5AklJLMCFRdAvmyRXScetKGKqGxtR4hWKw6z13O3J-fxuLgiommygY/s1600/Abuja-20131211-00548.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1xS7iYrvsgHc70gQpZRh3TLc-iqZTx8St0Tb5dwcU63nOt18u7wuTbrALsUm5Gsh_HIvAbfdhqTNLFFj-GdyeK5AklJLMCFRdAvmyRXScetKGKqGxtR4hWKw6z13O3J-fxuLgiommygY/s320/Abuja-20131211-00548.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">at work in the commission</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I pray the testimonies get better and richer everyday. This is my first week here and i totally enjoyed it. I love you all, and i pray you keep enjoying my blog. MUAH!!!!</div>
</div>
</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-68831737350049740162012-10-07T07:00:00.000-07:002012-10-07T00:15:56.717-07:00JUNGLE JUSTICE IS WRONG! I was emotionally crushed when i heard the news of the four University of Portharcourt students who were beaten to death. I was at a friend's house when i read it and had to run home to read more about it. The young men were first accused of stealing phones and laptops but the story recently changed (following the tweets of a person who claims he/she witnessed it) that they were cultists/armed robbers who had terrorized the villagers for a while.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0mFaqz7GTtcRrHfIOK-IRERWiBkUWKhQSEvvL_Fpo3G7VihDGv2KToHSBrHnhCn66yq9uH6Y4rjzEN9k0DTXBIds7ix6R4w4oZ08cYvmLuoqOsgq1EfLLDk9tREWvniot2LT5Bdajb1I/s1600/uniPH+students.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0mFaqz7GTtcRrHfIOK-IRERWiBkUWKhQSEvvL_Fpo3G7VihDGv2KToHSBrHnhCn66yq9uH6Y4rjzEN9k0DTXBIds7ix6R4w4oZ08cYvmLuoqOsgq1EfLLDk9tREWvniot2LT5Bdajb1I/s1600/uniPH+students.jpg" /></a></div>
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I saw the gruesome photos of how these men were stripped and beaten to death and my heart is still drawn to tears whenever the images flashes back in my mind. I have no idea what went wrong or exactly what those young men did that got them to face such an inhumane treatment but i won't meddle words to express my disappointment and devastation that human beings actually did that to their fellow human being.</div>
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<div>
The amount of hate we live with in this world is overwhelmingly pathetic and there is absolutely no justification for anyone to take laws into their hands and murder someone in the name of "whatever excuse they might want to give as their reason". </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Even if those men were cultists and armed robbers, did they deserve the fate they faced? Weren't they entitled to a fair trial? Those of us capable of such cold action of beating people to death, aren't we equally as wicked (if not more) than the "enemies" we fight against? As for those who stood by and caught all the action on camera, don't even think to yourself that you're any less of a murderer because you could have alerted the police but you chose to stand by and do nothing.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAtUOvCVnw68095RMCtqEuGPhDWdOYOuaBo1rbzQwOtvPTjWtokozPSIGV35qkwcMd1iJBLmuqe1-DI0fnfOyWGei9gkjhQZbAXVz0fbR7h3M6HpRTbEii0DCrlA8i9PYMjP474B8T9rM/s1600/uniPH+students2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAtUOvCVnw68095RMCtqEuGPhDWdOYOuaBo1rbzQwOtvPTjWtokozPSIGV35qkwcMd1iJBLmuqe1-DI0fnfOyWGei9gkjhQZbAXVz0fbR7h3M6HpRTbEii0DCrlA8i9PYMjP474B8T9rM/s320/uniPH+students2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div>
I sincerely pray that Jungle Justice will become a seriously punishable crime in this country, lest we loose more souls to unjust acts of anger and irrationality. I pray that the souls of those young men find rest and their families will have the fortitude to bear the loss, amen...</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-30208397012916909982012-10-04T03:20:00.000-07:002012-10-07T00:17:38.538-07:00JUDGING OUR OWN FAULTS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnaXnSNB6MLMGLIXBeyaKHVhUoWnczUEnp6Jhm24t5bXWXhfOweLztuD1amvKaiHv4YQ6yMFbAOA-ghMvAAlgKIJtuXSY02tfaT_TwO6vw-qjlxpAhcnbTv2_z7MagbqmgdNqG9Yt_7jQ/s1600/heidi_klum_SEAL_divorce.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnaXnSNB6MLMGLIXBeyaKHVhUoWnczUEnp6Jhm24t5bXWXhfOweLztuD1amvKaiHv4YQ6yMFbAOA-ghMvAAlgKIJtuXSY02tfaT_TwO6vw-qjlxpAhcnbTv2_z7MagbqmgdNqG9Yt_7jQ/s320/heidi_klum_SEAL_divorce.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
A couple of weeks back, news cropped up about Heidi Klum dating her bodyguard and Seal's reaction to the news. I still haven't recovered from my hurt and shock over their divorce as I was really hoping their union would last till they died, but then again, I guess that's life.<br />
<br />
So back to the old story; after Photos of Heidi with her bodyguard were released, Seal made a statement that implied that Heidi had cheated/been cheating on him with the body guard even while they were married but Heidi denies being romantically involved with her bodyguard. Ok, let me share his statement, so the things I'm about to say would make more sense:<br />
<br />
"To be quite honest, if there is going to be
somebody else in their lives, I'd much
rather it was a familiar face. I guess the
only thing I would have preferred is that. I
guess I didn't expect any better from him, I
would have preferred Heidi show a little bit
more class and at least wait until we
separated first before deciding to fornicate
with the help, as it were. But I guess you
now all have the answer that you've been
looking for the past seven months.
<br />
<br />
I'm not sure if I'm thinking right o but wasn't it seal who was spotted a couple of days after they announced their divorce, hand-locked with a hot model, his wedding ring off (even after he said he would not remove the ring)? He had been spotted with many other women since then too.<br />
<br />
Did he make this statement out of jealousy, and does he even want Heidi to be happy at all?<br />
<br />
Ok, let's say Heidi cheated while they were married, wasn't it possible to forgive her and try to make things work? I believe that humans are likely to err at any time and when marriage is involved, its not just the person's perfections that we are meant to live with, their flaws form an even greater part of the things we have to deal with and work through.<br />
<br />
Some people feel Heidi's a slut and an embarrassment for "stooping so low" as to date her bodyguard or help, (as seal referred to him as) but my question is, what's wrong with dating someone in a different social class from you? Is it compulsory that a celebrity must date/marry another celebrity? Whatever happened to finding love? Whatever happened to human beings being equal and all?<br />
<br />
Some people even blame her and say she's not a good mum/woman "for not depriving herself of love/happiness for her children's sake" while her Ex has no fault for globe trotting with many other women. (I hope you smell my sarcasm)<br />
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Truth is, it weakens me how people can be so quick to judge without properly examining a situation or giving people the benefit of the doubt. We all stick our necks so high and suddenly become angels when we hear about other people's mistakes, forgetting that we are capable of our own. I'll rest my case at this for now, but be sure that'll be back to say more on a issue like this, very soon.<br />
Have a lovely day.
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-30379095969574655052012-10-01T02:48:00.000-07:002012-10-01T02:48:27.733-07:00NIGERIA'S NOBLE CALL.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgESHdd23Z87qo84eaIUrm0ecNSbhO7x1Lh0svY-XWWolF6U9mZ6BGWJOPfe9AIdO085mqKOuL8250YrgsFGSlgbWyzLgCWPMwBI__lVniDmO0mYrDNxyBE9zxaFXpzJyTLwh2Ywh4MtB8/s1600/naija.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgESHdd23Z87qo84eaIUrm0ecNSbhO7x1Lh0svY-XWWolF6U9mZ6BGWJOPfe9AIdO085mqKOuL8250YrgsFGSlgbWyzLgCWPMwBI__lVniDmO0mYrDNxyBE9zxaFXpzJyTLwh2Ywh4MtB8/s320/naija.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
Hey, hey, people what's up! I'm in a very good mood today and its a good thing. My beloved country, Nigeria celebrates her 52nd anniversary as an independent nation today and its also a new month. Although some Nigerians aren't really happy today and they don't believe we have any reason to celebrate, others like me are positive and happy about this special day.<br />
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I know our nation is in a lot of crisis at this period, we haven't attained the height we deserve and so many thing are out of place but we still have course to celebrate and stay hopeful.
Independence day celebration isn't just about measuring how far we should have come, its also about rejoicing over the opportunity for free will. You think our independence isn't worth celebrating? Well you're wrong because even as a human beings, no matter how messed up or stagnant our lives might be we still find course to celebrate and be thankful on our birthdays. We still try to make our birthdays mean something to us.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQPfoeITKCC48Od4wncV25p67zxITpu4yn84uV1d3XmEbp3xVyiDWqogDgnH1DgJJ18iq1Rapp2UAV4qE83mnff6UCds10gATO7GPH8sk70n0F76-JrusvyIqfxLGpJB9RAz7sOcZRudI/s1600/naija2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQPfoeITKCC48Od4wncV25p67zxITpu4yn84uV1d3XmEbp3xVyiDWqogDgnH1DgJJ18iq1Rapp2UAV4qE83mnff6UCds10gATO7GPH8sk70n0F76-JrusvyIqfxLGpJB9RAz7sOcZRudI/s320/naija2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
My dear Nigerian brothers and sisters, today is a day we should celebrate together as a nation. We are grateful that we have the chance to make our mistakes and grow as a country without any other country lording over us, we are grateful for life and that in times when thing go wrong we are able to speak out and correct it. We are grateful for our resources and other blessings, for our democracy which is already showing good signs of growth, for our government officials who we pray for everyday, for our strong will to survive even the toughest of situations and a host of other reasons.<br />
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Please, don't just sit in the comfort of your home or office and criticize Nigeria all the way, be that change you want to see. You say you want a perfect Nigeria but are you perfect enough for that perfect Nigeria? Nigeria is you and me. Nigeria is the bond that unites us, the identity we share. Nigeria is our Mother, our baby, our project. Nigeria is the evidence of our existence, the evidence of our capabilities so let not run or turn away from it. Let's stay positive and apply good action to our wishes for Nigeria.<br />
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Our nation needs us to be faithful to her and she needs us to thrive and improve. As we celebrate the 52nd anniversary of our existence, let us put aside negative mind sets, and open our hearts to possibilities again. Let our reformation start we us, individually and all other things will fall in place.<br />
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I wish you all a Happy Independence Day and a Happy New Month as well. Remember to say a Prayer for Nigeria.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-12929450114050393282012-09-30T00:29:00.002-07:002012-09-30T00:34:35.545-07:00A1000 VOICES PROJECT<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Xohig__iLG0Xjo-7A3tcosHANu6-QAvoTWnHXTkl-yaplMZHYjB9hTIHkMg23PMUaX0i8ZVVrInN5fo91RJyvSzAhzwaMJk0fWwCrWPUN-0gDgmG0hii-_f6iwDD-7a8fg_kYUudmbo/s1600/voices.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Xohig__iLG0Xjo-7A3tcosHANu6-QAvoTWnHXTkl-yaplMZHYjB9hTIHkMg23PMUaX0i8ZVVrInN5fo91RJyvSzAhzwaMJk0fWwCrWPUN-0gDgmG0hii-_f6iwDD-7a8fg_kYUudmbo/s320/voices.jpg" width="248" /></a></div>
Imagine, One Topic; 1000 Expressions; 1000 Write-ups; 1000 Views; 1000 YOUTHS
1000Voices being heard? Well, imagine no more because the opportunity is here.<br />
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In line with Coloured Life Initiative's bid to inspire positive living and expression in
Nigerian youths, Coloured Life Initiative is bringing forth a forum called A1000Voices.<br />
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A1000Voices is a writing project for youths and as the name implies, 1000 youths are expected to write in on the topic that will be given. The aim is to find out what youths think of certain issues.<br />
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Hundred of the best articles will be published in a book in January but a certain flair exclusive to the youth is expected in the write-ups. The debut edition of A1000Voices will commence on October 1st 2012.<br />
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A lone voice conotes limitation to the horizon and expectations, and restriction on capabilities.
Hence, a thousand voices with no sense of limits and a fixed gaze on the future write on a topic. The opinions of a thousand youths on a
given issue shall resound.
A thousand voices will echo on paper
A memorable platform via this rare opportunity afforded by The
Coloured Life Initiative for a thousand youths to air their views in ink.
From a thousand, hundred articles shall be compiled and published in a compendium come January.<br />
<br />
How do you think? What do you (have to) say? A thousand voices...a
million words....will yours be among?
Never before has there been such a written sound!<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-56852774507395327392012-09-28T00:46:00.001-07:002012-09-28T01:45:01.631-07:00THE SECRET, CONNECT ENUGU IS REVEALED.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr8Nj2kuQ98MtDV8bC7JLB1In_W6i5ukPHuQG9FwgvOmQdcj89M3sPiX-nk_-w7YrUo20MFm7pGhMrM8BY0COjGj20UblElYc4vsivke2T0WINw1rSJwtqgnecMsjYOlwFj3JjuSTzwr8/s1600/connectEnugu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr8Nj2kuQ98MtDV8bC7JLB1In_W6i5ukPHuQG9FwgvOmQdcj89M3sPiX-nk_-w7YrUo20MFm7pGhMrM8BY0COjGj20UblElYc4vsivke2T0WINw1rSJwtqgnecMsjYOlwFj3JjuSTzwr8/s320/connectEnugu.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
In January 2012, a new revolution for Enugu started off on twitter. A twitter profile called Connect Enugu became registered and begun to offer informative services about Enugu to people. Nine months on, what started off as a twitter profile has grown into a brand, one that people in and outside enugu have become familar with.<br />
<br />
Everyone wonders who is the brain behind this genius idea and we'll never stop wondering. The good news right now is that, Connect Enugu will finally be launching her website on 1st October 2012 and she'll be doing it in grand style. Brace yourselves for the unveiling of the future.<br />
<br />
CONNECT ENUGU GOES DOT COM<br />
Information they say is Power. An uninformed fellow is a powerless fellow. Connect Enugu has decided to save the day and put power into the hands of the whole Enugu.<br />
<br />
Connect Enugu is an Initiative for people in, around and entering Enugu to
interact, socialise and stay informed on Everything about everything in
Enugu. Connect Enugu Uses Social activities and the media to achieve this Purpose through
News, Articles and lots more. @ConnectEnugu [Followers 1200 plus] on Twitter and Facebook. [134 Likes and counting]<br />
<br />
On the First of October, as Nigeria will be celebrating her 52nd year as a free country, Enugu will be celebrating the birth of the future.
Join the Movement.
#FF @ConnectEnugu
www.connectenugu.com launches on the First of October 2012.
Spread the news.
<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-1370733400123040592012-09-25T01:46:00.000-07:002012-09-25T01:46:15.539-07:00SPIKE YOUR LIFE WITH A LITTLE MORE COLOUR<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL02eZf-74R5_4WNtvB_hWpvSSjMnyHOdKaq8hEbpc4tR1R3DRdJMh3cGO-7xfWlSbxHvXw1j8C1oe65O_v9-x4BF0ubgubr2dP98FnUZP8K3v1Lfqt-hk5IH3of-pzUd_Dlxj22K9XPA/s1600/coloured%252520life%252520logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL02eZf-74R5_4WNtvB_hWpvSSjMnyHOdKaq8hEbpc4tR1R3DRdJMh3cGO-7xfWlSbxHvXw1j8C1oe65O_v9-x4BF0ubgubr2dP98FnUZP8K3v1Lfqt-hk5IH3of-pzUd_Dlxj22K9XPA/s320/coloured%252520life%252520logo.jpg" /></a></div>
Hello, everyone how are you? The past days have been lovely and I hope we've all been learning and growing in Good measure.
Today, I'll be sharing information about an NGO named Coloured Life Initiative. I was privileged to meet their Coordinator, whom I found totally fascinating. The young man has so much zeal and energy and you know how happy I feel when I meet such people. Well, CLI will be launching out with a couple of programs next month; 1000Voices (A literary competition for young people) and GREEN WHITE GREEN: More than just colours.
The programs are in line with their intentions to empower and educate young people. Here is a brief insight to what the organization is about.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBBlf-QjLvm8Rbtal3o3pTGFd2RqtL5A4RWQ96k1m1oYvS0IbGQhDt78vYLSY7BSRiRHgIklQbs4fEkPB1ml1mFHDJxsiuzZY-3G9zQWg2WL-b5bpEJlFmFoalxjuJVdZNA5lRc1WJITk/s1600/1000%252520voices.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="283" width="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBBlf-QjLvm8Rbtal3o3pTGFd2RqtL5A4RWQ96k1m1oYvS0IbGQhDt78vYLSY7BSRiRHgIklQbs4fEkPB1ml1mFHDJxsiuzZY-3G9zQWg2WL-b5bpEJlFmFoalxjuJVdZNA5lRc1WJITk/s320/1000%252520voices.jpg" /></a></div>
ABOUT COLOURED LIFE INITIATIVE:
The Coloured Life Initiative is a youth based initiative aimed toward encouraging an all round positive lifestyle for the Nigerian youth. It is geared towards creating a balance between the exuberant, fun-filled
life that youths are drawn to and the responsible, value-filled life that the society needs them to lead.
The term "Coloured" was often used in referring to the black
Americans in the late 19th and mid 20th Centuries.
What most people fail to recognise is that these blacks were extremely
hard working and it was upon this hard work that the success of the
western world was built.
Apart from these,the "Coloured" people were also responsible for the
evolution of Hip Hop,which is the most popular genre of music today as
well as a range of other music genres such as Afro.
Thus, The Coloured Life for a youth represents a wholesome life of
hard work and responsibility as well as ability to have fun as that is
a part of youth.
Be Good,Be Youth.
The Coloured Life Initiative Team is comprised of RESPONSIBLE,VALUE
MINDED young people who are not afraid to have fun cos they are also
youths.
Spreading the word that being a youth is not just about fun nor is it
just about academics,but both in the right amounts can COLOUR up your
life
The initiative will be bringing up projects such as "A THOUSAND
VOICES" which will commence in October as well as "THE COLOUR MARCH"
which will be held in December of this year (12:12:12).
Join the Coloured Life Movement today, go to
http://m.facebook.com/TheColouredLifeInitiative<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-83805500710035853982012-09-21T05:37:00.002-07:002012-09-28T00:53:41.344-07:00BUT UNCLE WAS HER FRIENDI stumbled upon this interesting short story on Facebook and I thought it would be nice to share. I'll skip plenty talk and allow you read it. I got really emotional after reading it.
but UNCLE was her friend.......
by Laide 'exschoolnerd' Olabode
If u were abused as a child there are two ways(or maybe more) that u react.... u either really like sex, become promiscuous or really hate it because it reminds you of a time that u’d rather not remember.
Mr George was her friend, she was just 10....he was also her mother’s brother, her uncle he had been living with them for as long as she could remember. Uncle George was young,strong, confident, very good looking, a player,he had alot of girlfriends. He was also her best friend, he took her everywhere , showered her with gifts, nobody could lay a hand on her for fear of Uncle George. He’d often take her out to visit his girlfriends or to buy clothes..anything to put a smile on her face. She trusted him, Uncle will never let anything happen to me she thought...Uncle loves me. Uncle is my best friend. She loved him so much.
One day, Uncle introduced something else into their perfect relationship. He led her upstairs to her room, while her brothers argued downstairs engrossed in a video game they were playing, oblivious of what was happening or was going to happen. He told her to sit down and then he locked the door.
She had no idea what was going on, maybe uncle just wanted them to stay here...maybe he ju<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaCaIVib8orSlkZ2_u7aCMtpOSL10YnVeOc_ffCG8fR6-LjaqCfnAb_lM4qICkywyt2bQC1BKpoRKRazy1z1RdR7Vm7JnfXReQcMylx0COpSXEl8C5ulUilXsSNb-dC2t724IOR78vMz8/s1600/molest%252BNubian%252520photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaCaIVib8orSlkZ2_u7aCMtpOSL10YnVeOc_ffCG8fR6-LjaqCfnAb_lM4qICkywyt2bQC1BKpoRKRazy1z1RdR7Vm7JnfXReQcMylx0COpSXEl8C5ulUilXsSNb-dC2t724IOR78vMz8/s320/molest%252BNubian%252520photo.jpg" /></a></div>
st wanted to do all those silly faces and tell all those stories that made her laugh. Uncle told her to lie on the bed, its Uncle so she did, she had no idea what was happening...maybe Uncle wanted to play a game.
Uncle put his hand up her skirt, she didn’t know what/how to feel. He was her Uncle, her bestfriend, this is probably okay, she was 10,what did she know, he would never hurt her, she didn’t know. This was Uncle
He touched her in places no one else had ever touched....he put his mouth all over her body... but this is Uncle...Uncle cant hurt me. He gave her a jar of Vaseline and told her to rub it all over his privates. ..but this is Uncle my bestfriend.... she had no idea what she was doing....how it would affect her for the rest of her life.... right then and there she was just doing everything to please Uncle. Uncle did alot of things to please her before, he bought her things, took her out...now she’s doing something for Uncle. They are just playing, innocent play play
Uncle did this for the next three years until he left.
Uncle has gone..but the memories never leave. Uncle’s actions led her on a long search for love...when she was old enough to realise what uncle did she broke down. Not Uncle, not the person i loved and trusted. Uncle’s actions messed with her head, messed with her relationships, she went looking for love in all the wrong places and on all the wrong faces. Uncle made her believe sex was a way to make someone like you..but it wasn’t...so she liked all the wrong people, who treated her badly....she had such disdain for intimacy and sex....and would only do it to please a man...that’s what Uncle made her believe.
Uncle still calls her once in a while...but Uncle acts like nothing is wrong..like he didn’t do anything... like he hasn’t in some way.
How do u get over being molested/abused by the one person you loved/trusted....that one action that led to so many bad decisions,hurt,rejection,pain... Uncle was supposed to be her friend. How can a friend hurt you like tha<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285023710452476563.post-90570120787118224452012-09-18T03:28:00.007-07:002012-09-18T04:09:22.099-07:00HAPPY 45TH TO MY MUMMY!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCmHlBwopHvJh-lH9oYpypqLTDTKnauy5v5tU3t_d6iJoDDOVQk9OCG_CQcNMb-9sviq9DzVaZJU8Mcsy7w9yQrX6K6-_mBHDe3usL5MRm_RR1a2yg-PAYvRSnp385L0vtZ9E2fzx66Y8/s1600/birthday%252520mum.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCmHlBwopHvJh-lH9oYpypqLTDTKnauy5v5tU3t_d6iJoDDOVQk9OCG_CQcNMb-9sviq9DzVaZJU8Mcsy7w9yQrX6K6-_mBHDe3usL5MRm_RR1a2yg-PAYvRSnp385L0vtZ9E2fzx66Y8/s320/birthday%252520mum.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5789463326301950946" /></a><br />Hey everyone, today is an exciting day for me! Its my Mum's 45th birthday and I'm overwhelmed with joy! My schedule is very tight but I just have to come online and dedicate this blog post to her today.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPKJ-76cybV9i2kjspasCG2TARtCL9KiTc_zJhxzRHbuw-Kj1HbfekVLP3qefDqfZ7IOfCF8_RPov5pKcZubgrJMJvHVp1icSPXMTimnrvMwv9wRX7FsxYEI6vjn4rVsmySHlCe2SM__Y/s1600/birthday%252520mummy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 287px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPKJ-76cybV9i2kjspasCG2TARtCL9KiTc_zJhxzRHbuw-Kj1HbfekVLP3qefDqfZ7IOfCF8_RPov5pKcZubgrJMJvHVp1icSPXMTimnrvMwv9wRX7FsxYEI6vjn4rVsmySHlCe2SM__Y/s320/birthday%252520mummy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5789471971110904930" /></a><br /><br />I'm not saying this because she's my mum but everyone that has met my mum knows how much of a grand person she is. Her words are always packed with love and wisdom and no advice she has ever given me has ever led me astray. She's the best cook I know, the most creative person I've met and the best friend and mother anyone can have. My father is a blessed man and I worship God most high for the privilege of having her as a mum. May God bless her mightily today and always, amen! <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9xV96I4ptXYGvjaPEU6iRhsgskKqYkIPGMyR8JkXyuYekurdrp4oVw-LBZPXEhzOnZYpliwvhlK7BXN8ERwKYDh2kWNTknZUyiZL08uDdiwdZ9Y1Tug908qqWMIdTrx91Kprs7jzRLb4/s1600/birthday%252520mum2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9xV96I4ptXYGvjaPEU6iRhsgskKqYkIPGMyR8JkXyuYekurdrp4oVw-LBZPXEhzOnZYpliwvhlK7BXN8ERwKYDh2kWNTknZUyiZL08uDdiwdZ9Y1Tug908qqWMIdTrx91Kprs7jzRLb4/s320/birthday%252520mum2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5789467438214837170" /></a><br /><br />I hope everyone's having a lovely week, because I surely am enjoying the week to its fullest already. Have a lovely day everyone, Happy happy birthday to my Mommy!!!<div class="blogger-post-footer">Thank you for reading, do visit courageous fingers again</div>Chiziterehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10490414324131743097noreply@blogger.com0