I Bi Dem: Woman, Wife, Mother

  THANKS Thank you all for your comments and advice about losing weight. I hope to update you on my progress in my next post. Please keep the comments and advice coming. And thanks for those joining me on this journey of losing weight and keeping fit. WHY? You must have heard in the news and various social media platforms about the 35-year-old Ghanaian pastor who killed his 27-year-old wife in Florida, USA. Barbara and Sylvester Ofori had been married for some years but it wasn’t working out and the wife had moved out of their matrimonial home about three months before the reported incidence.   It was obviously a crime of passion as he shot her 7 times at her workplace. What a tragedy. What a waste of life on both sides. I commiserate with the family. A video showing the wife’s siblings trying to help her get some documents from her matrimonial home gives a lot of information about the family. There was an altercation between Barbara’s brother and Sylvester, and the pa...

Picture from Google Images   I have a confession to make.   Confessions are not easy as you would know but if I hope to get out of the hole I got myself in, confess I must. So, here is it. I indulged myself; I ate without restraint and refused to burn the excess away. I have the evidence to proof it. Climbing staircases has become a chore. You need to see me huff and puff. I hope you are not laughing because it is not hilarious at all, but rather pathetic. I have never trusted the BMI rating as I think those figures were concocted by someone who doesn’t eat and spends half the day burning up calories. I have never been in the green; even at my slimmest. Like I said, I don’t trust it. It was not designed for people with my body structure. But I checked the figures all the same and like a prophet who never has any good news, the thing said I am obese. Imagine the insult. Me, obese? Of course, I am not! That thing needs to be recalibrated. I know I am a little rounder than ...

  I often try to remember how life was before the age of ‘click and get’. Do you remember those days when you had to visit the library and search catalogues, look for books, articles or newspapers for information needed? I recall those days at the University of Ilorin with the kind of nostalgia that has no desire to go back there. Don’t get me wrong - I really enjoyed those days. The smell of books and old newspapers is something I fondly remember. Nowadays, research is devoid of that. Rather, it consists of a list of search words and of course of a computer system to access the different search engines you intend to use. And then, you click away. What a life! Searches that could have taken a week or two may take just a day. Searches this way however are not devoid of its problems. Although there is no dust irritating your nose, no missing catalogue cards nor missing books on the shelves to contend with, internet connection can make your search a torture.   I am sure that yo...

So, what else was she supposed to do?   She has come to realise the importance of having a mentor and learnt how to get one. The implementation was, however, a different story – no matter what she did, she could not get an appointment with her chosen mentor. No, that’s not true. In fact, she was able to fix an appointment on her first call to the personal assistant. The appointment did not hold; the fate suffered by seven other appointments she had booked so far. She has tried her best. She knows, she has tried. A less patient, not-so-determined person would have given up after the second or third attempt, but she persisted. Eight times of non-appearance, of being stood up was enough.   Who does this woman think she is – God? She hissed long and loud only like an angry woman would and gathered her notes to put back in her ideas folder. She has meticulously put together notes of her plans to discuss with her would-be mentor, adding a little more each time the woman did not ...

  Thank God that Toke made her meet with the girls; it produced so many ideas, so many that she is at a lose which one to go with. This is one of those time she wishes she could see the future or perhaps that God would just audibly give her direction or speak to her in a clear dream. But that has not happened. What she needs is someone to help her go through her ideas, but who? She is afraid to table her ideas before people. At the back of her mind is her pastor’s sermon a few years ago. He had spoken about the diarrhoea of the mouth and illustrated it with a story of a woman who constantly missed her opportunities in life because she discussed her ideas with others. Those people either used her ideas for their benefits or sabotaged her. His solution is to keep your ideas to yourself.   And she had lived by this teaching so far, but she is not sure if she should this time. As she ruminated over this, she fiddled with the remote control, then switched on the TV and browse...

  It was as if all that was needed for her ideas to dry up was realizing that she had to trap them. Ideas have since began to play hide and seek with her. She has lost count of the many times she sat in the ‘Thinking Chair’ without coming up with any useful idea.   She spent many hours in the office even though the lockdown was still in place. She was hoping that she would have ideas that will move the business forward. With all the new regulations, business would never be same again and if she does not move in line with the changes, she may lose her business.   She sighed as she reflected on how much she had put in already. She strongly believed she was in the centre of God’s will for her life. So why is she confronting all these problems? Isn’t that the essence of being in God’s will – that all problems will be eliminated? Wasn’t that what it should be – God’s will equals no problem?   After all, didn’t Psalm 37:4   say that He will grant us the desire...

THE THINKING CHAIR She sat heavily on the overstuffed chair in her office. What was she thinking furnishing an office with such a chair? Perhaps her subconsciousness knew such a day would come and she would need such a chair or at least her son did. The business was struggling; she was not even such she would reopen. The COVID-19 lockdown had taken its toll on her store. As she made herself comfortable in the chair, she remembered what her son had called the chair - the Dreaming Chair.  He had said it was so comfortable and one could fall asleep and dream beautiful dreams. He always sat in it whenever he came to the office, but he never fell asleep or so he claimed. He always said he was thinking whenever he sat there. Only there was no evidence of all his mental activities – he always forgot. Add caption   He always forgot. “Yes”, he said he had a lot of ideas sitting in the chair. Sometimes he even talked about them, but they amounted to nothing beyond being thoughts ...