The *Giant @ 50!

There once lived a man who never really lived until he was set free. Before he was set free his life was not his own. He was enslaved, beaten, broken, and subdued physically and mentally, but one day.. One day.. His oppressors left and he was set free.

Like an infant taking his first steps he tested out a path all his own. The year was 1960, the date was October 1, and it was his independence.

This man comprised of many life forces. Many individuals and opinions that made him who he was. For he was not a man in the literal sense, but more of a nation fortified by like-minds and hopeful hearts. As the years passed he forged his path, yet his potential was so big that it blinded his perspective. Resources so abundant that he abused their returns. His heart was willing, but his flesh was weak, and as thus he subdued himself to the songs of sirens singing of money that sought to steal his soul. And so he sold it, over and over again he sold it.

Sold it so some could celebrate while most were left to suffer. He stopped listening to his collective conscience and began to succumb to his own greed. He forced out the voices of those who couldn’t afford a seat @ the table, and thus the gap widened and the nation as a whole was enslaved again – this time the victim and the victor were one and the same.

The victor had the keys of life – yet he held them tight as he hoarded the hope of the masses – cashing them in, until he possessed all he could plunder, and then he would pass keys on to the next head – all of whom gradually became guilty of the same crime. And so 50 years later all he has left to show is what he had 50 years ago whence he took his 1st faltering steps.

Talents buried in the sand, gathering dust and remaining underappreciated by those who could leverage these abilities for the gain of all.

But sleep can only last for the night, and one day even the slumbering giant must awaken. The dream has become a nightmare, and in this reality the strength of the collective is rising up against that of the head. A consensus is being reached that says – the man must compete, the man must contribute, and the man must confess.

Confess that this existence is not sustainable. Confess that he is no longer man alone, for his life forces are scattered across the continents. Dotted on every continent, and they weave together a web so strong that the man must heed their message. He is and will remain constrained, and shall not be set free until he owns up for his actions, takes charge of his resources, and commands the respect of the collective by heeding the voice of his own conscience that has become hardened and desensitized to the cries of the collective.

Once upon a time hopeful hearts beat from within, and to this day they still do. Sometimes it is ever so faint, but if you concentrate you can hear the hope and if you close your eyes you can see the future. Those hopeful hearts – waiting, willing, and wondering when the time will come when they will power up this life force again with the synchroinzed beating that in collaboration  will bring light, strength, and ultimately success in a land free from the constraints of corruption.

Wetin man pikin go do? Dig up our talents and add our voices to that of the collective of course! Our objectives are the same, our pride is palpable, our success is eminent. It’s all up to us. And as always – God dey!

Happy birthday! Here’s to tomorrow.

Dear Baby Yet Unborn (Volume I)

Dear darling daughter,

What can I warn you about this world you will one day enter? Of this I do not know. It is ever changing and realities are always shifting, yet I will try. I know not what the conditions surrounding your birth will be, yet some constants shall remain ever true:

I can tell you that degrees matter more and less. To be well educated is invaluable, yet real money is less frequently attained through a predictable trajectory, but more so through trial and error, and most often a brilliant idea + a little bit of luck.

I can tell you that people are always changing. Buying new body parts and sometimes snipping off old ones as the definition of “beauty” changes. But this my love, is not what true beauty is.

Beautiful is you! Unborn and untouched, yet known before ever being knit in my womb. I know nothing about you, other than you will be part me. And this – is more than enough. You have no father yet to speak of, and while conception is years away – love is already here to stay.

Beauty is confidence in your talents and acknowlegment of your flaws. One who strives and is not afraid to fall. Beauty is the potential and possibility that is you.

I learned to love by how I was loved, and that love demanded only one thing from me: that I be the absolute best version of myself. That I strive and seek to succeed, never settling or letting fear paralyze my progress towards the path ahead. That I accept a helping hand from the source from which love sprung forth whenever I fell, and allowed myself a dust-off and to be enveloped in warm arms, while I prepared to head back out.

And so my love, my love for you will be thus: Be who YOU want to be. Doctor, carpenter, career services counselor, painter, or poet. Live life on your own terms – determining what income level satisfies you, what continent you will reside on, whether you will travel by yatch or donkey – and whichever, I shall love you both ceaselessly and carelessly.

Strength comes from within, and with the still silent voice within as your guide, and an ample support system outside you shall attain, gain, and maintain *strength.

I was never told what I should be. Never advised against pursuing my dreams. Never given a mold of which I had to stretch or fold to fit into. I was simply loved. And I pay that love forward to the next rightful owner in generation next.

As it flows through my veins, it will one day pass through the umbilical cord to the literal center of your little being, and then you will know what I know. That you are loved! Just as I have and continue to be sustained by the love that my mother radiates towards me. Love that is so deeply embedded and so strongly felt that I understand perfectly what was designed in the heavens with regards to pure undiluted and untainted parent-to-child love, and the even greater prototype of how He first loved us. Love deep enough that I am convicted enough to make my musings known to you years in advance.

The task the lays ahead concerning you is daunting, so I prepare now. Studying and working and discerning and hoping and above all – praying, so that years from now your arrival shall be to one where fear of tomorrow shall never wrinkle your delicate little forehead.

Yet here I am getting ahead of myself. I speak as one who is already on the brink of where I’m merely looking out to. But to be forearmed is to be better prepared, so I take my advice and hold on to it, invest it to see if it will bring forth returns. And these assets I shall use to further myself, and this wisdom I shall plant in my heart so that the tree of truth shall grow, and when you too begin to grow years from now – you shall reside in the shade of assurance that in this ever changing universe – heaven, hope, and my heart beat attuned to yours – are ever constant.

My darling daughter – What can I warn you about this world you will one day enter? Of this I do not know. It is ever changing and realities are shifting, yet I will try. I know not what the conditions of 2017 will be, yet some constants shall remain ever true: I will always always love you, and as thus it is critical to prepare now, to be a woman you will be proud of, to live a life whose mistakes you can learn from, to become a mother that you will choose to love back – for who I was, who I am, and who I am yet to become. To be one so full of life that it oozes out of my very pores and pours back into yours (as biologically impossible as that may sound), to be one with the One who first entrusted you to me so that the plans for your life and my role in them may become evident.

I do not know what the future shall hold in exact quantities, but the ingredients for an enriching existence I now seek:

Enough strength of character to be strong when you are not

Enough discernment to discipline you when all I feel is biased love

Enough restraint to save now and build towards a better life for you

Enough worry to keep you safe and say “no” when you should not

Enough love to make the world feel like home

Yet enough truth serum to teach you that it is not

Enough resilience to find the right father

Enough prayers to bind it all together

AND enough love to assure you that you are more than enough.

Ever Yours,


*Meet the Parents*

I was nervous when I brought him home!

I had never brought anyone home to meet the parents before! Never mind the friends, family, co-workers, crushes, exes, and strangers all in one go. Yet here I was, exposing my true love to everyone – all at once.

I wondered what people would say when they truly got a look at him! Would they think him brave, stuck up, too opinionated? Would they think he was too young? I feared they might call him uppity, simplistic, jobless, inconsistent and worst of all – untalented!

Yet I was tired. Tired of keeping him locked up in my bedroom. Tired of being the only one who was allowed to interact with him. Tired of exploring the depths of his mind, thoughts, and intentions through the tattered and torn pages of journal entries. I don’t want my covert operation to be under wraps anymore, I’m ready for the expose’.

I don’t know when I fell in love with him. He started as a figment of my imagination, and the reality of him just escalated as my obsession grew. I find traces of him in blue and black and purple ink.

I had used him many times, truth be told. Trusted him countless others. He was the one I told tales that consisted of my real truths and he’d never let me down, yet here I was about to share him with the world with mixed signals regarding his consent.

But it had been decided. I was ready to put the thoughts in my head to bed – piece by piece. So I found him a cover – – and rolled out the red carpet.

It was time to move my love out – from the recesses of my mind into the arena where the critics and commentators might reach him. Open to the eyes and ideas of all. Friend and foe. Yet I was ready. For as my fingers stroked the keyboard, thoughts of him flowed through me, and each and every day from HP Pavillions, to borrowed Mac books, to computer lab keyboards, to black berry notes he was oozing out bit by bit. I could not supress him if I dared, and as my opinions got stronger, so his hold of me tightened.. For he was I, and I am him – inseperable!

He is my thoughts, my feelings, the very expression of myself. “Once Upon A Blogspot” is his alias, but his true name might as be the same query as my name – “what have you brought to the world?”

He brings inconsistencies, the various faces of all my identities, the thoughts I have neither time nor inclination to speak out loud. He is the discussions I barely explore with others, the truths I tell myself and then forget, he is me without punctuation and I regard this his official presentation.

He may speak on issues, on crushes and cares, on fears and fortunes,on future amibtions. He may have subtle suggestions or strong convictions, yet each and everytime I respect his honesty. Bold enough to bring down the barriers of my mind and to keep typing when I long to backspace.

Who deserves to meet the parents? He does! He is my circle of trust, for he knows and interprets each and every truth. AND whether he is right or wrong, he still comes forth, and for that my deepest respect. Whether he is misunderstood or related to, supported or scorned, here’s my fiance y’all. 🙂

Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce myself – inside out.