NO, YOU ACTUALLY GIVE A DAMN ABOUT IT

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You know how sometimes we like to pretend that stuff doesn’t get to us?

No, I’m not talking about getting a rejection email or not being promoted like everyone else. I’m not even talking about not being noticed by somebody you like. Well, this last one hurts. Sorry if that’s you.

I’m talking about having issues in your personal relationships.

Wait, did you just say “here, we go again?”. Heck, yes! Here we go again.

I’m writing this for two reasons.

Firstly, I’m feeling bad (you can guess why but I’ll tell you. Meanwhile, if you don’t know why YOU are feeling bad, check out one of my posts titled Why you feel bad all the time). So, I’m feeling bad because I’m having little issues with a family member.

Secondly, I’m writing to help you if you’re at this point or for when you get to this point (because you will get here some time. Nope, it’s not a curse. You’re a human sharing earth with other humans).

A friend will often tell me,” Stop talking to the public about your problems because they don’t care”. I know. But I, ME, I care. I care that you’ll get to where I am or have already been through it without knowing what I know. Or maybe you’ve forgotten.

Back to the original point.

You care! I know you care that you’re having problems in your personal relationships. Now, any relationship can become as personal as we let it so let me specify. You care when you have issues with family. I mean family family. You know, blood family? Okay, mum, dad, brother, sister kinda family.

So, maybe it’s their fault. Maybe you didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe they’ve said some very hurtful things to you. really hurtful. Now, you’re not exactly on talking terms and you think you don’t give two cents about it, right? Stop lying joor. You actually care.

I know because you think about it and feel bad.

You wonder what you could have done or said to avoid the situation

You wish and hope they’re hurting too because that would mean that they care too and it means you care too. get it?

Am I right or wrong?

I want you to do something right now. Take a deep breath and close your eyes. Open them and admit to yourself that you care and you don’t like it.

That’s how to solve problems. identification.

If you’re wondering why I’m here giving you advice instead of solving my own problems, chill out a bit. I’m working on my own issues. At least, I’m bold enough to admit that I care that somebody is giving me attitude and I don’t want things to remain like that.

Have I told you that having a great relationship with your family helps you face the society? Charity begins at home baby, but it doesn’t end there. So, in other words… Wait.. I’m getting confused.

Aha! (Forget that charity adage.) What I want to say is that you’re better equipped to face other people and relate well with them if things are good at home.

So, you’ve admitted it? Good. You’re brave. It doesn’t make you a weak person. No. you’re strong enough to admit that you’re uncomfortable with conflict.

What do you do about it? Know what? I’ll write about this only after I’ve taken the steps I’d want to give you. I’m going to fix the issue I have with my family member and then I’ll come back and tell you how it went and what to do. But if you can’t wait and would want to know what to do, send me an email or a DM or something.

Here’s my id on Instagram: @ada_thelmaa. Double A at the end.

Is there something you’d like to say about family issues or personal relationship issues? Let me know in the comment section. Honestly, I’d love to hear from you.

Please share so others can benefit. Trust me many people are in this boat. Muaahh!

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YOU SHOULD COMPLAIN MORE OFTEN

          

         

          Okay, firstly, forget everything you’ve heard about positive energy. Just… just keep it in your drawer till you’re done reading this.

          You have the right to disagree with every thought/opinion expressed here. You also have the right to agree completely and share your beliefs. 

          Complaining is not evil. It can be annoying and unnecessary sometimes especially when you have consciously decided to do nothing about it.

           When you keep quiet about things that are not right or do not seem right, you destroy the chance for change to happen. A lot of things have changed in history because someone “complained” about them. Throughout the different ages, systems have been challenged and actions have been taken to change those concerns because someone complained.

          You know how you would rant about how you need to get new shoes or how hungry you are? What happens afterward? You get those things! It doesn’t matter how long it takes, it definitely comes to you.

          If nobody challenged the killing of twins in Nigeria, we wouldn’t have any today in the country simply because nobody would want to be seen as being discontent. We should be discontented with the ills in the society.

          The only problem now is that to many, anything is worth complaining about, the good ones inclusive. Some persons complain so that a vice can be accepted as the new normal.

For example, someone has actually “complained” that since such a community as the LGBTQ+ community exists, pedophiles should be included. What rubbish! That now is classical madness!

          It could be said that every complain is someone’s opinion on how things are and ought to be, true. But there are truths that are not subject to beliefs and varying opinions. Some truths are objective. You mustn’t agree but it remains the truth.

          Wonder why i call it complaining? Well, because, to complain means to speak up about a distasteful situation. You wouldn’t complain about something good unless you’re losing your sanity or the situation does not conform to your idea of good.

          There are various ways complaints are laid. These days, society prides itself on inventing different ways to rant, riot, protest, speak up about whatever it terms a distasteful situation.

          A quick look at the movies we have these days would reveal a lot being complained about. Even in the books we read!

          People speak up by changing the status quo in their little sphere of influence. We also have people who talk, who teach at conferences and seminars. We have writers who create stories around the problems they see. We have movie producers and scriptwriters who bring the problem to the screen. We have those who talk on social media. We have the musicians too.

          You should complain often. You should speak up often. Nothing was ever changed by keeping it quiet

          Newton’s 2^nd law of motion clearly applies here. A body at rest will remain at rest and a body in motion will remain in motion except an external force is imposed on it.

          What are you waiting for? Launch that campaign! Speak up now, you might be the one to herald the dawn of a new era.

What are you going to start complaining about? for me, it's dysfunctional family system/bad parenting. tell me yours in the comment section.

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DIARY OF A LAZY WRITER 4: DAYS OF PAIN.

Dear diary,

Nobody should contend with me for title if laziest writer. I've earned it.
It's been ages. It's unfortunate that what took my hand to my pen again is pain.

No,  I don't have cancer.
No,  I'm not heart broken.
But I have a broken heart.

You know that voice that always says, "give up already. It's not worth it" ? Well,  it's speaking to me right now,  loud and crystal.

Diary,  I've never known defeat in my entire life like I've known in these past months.

People probably think I'm a joke  (Whatevs!  Their thoughts are theirs anyway).
And no,  I'm not making excuses but nobody understands that it's been the craziest time of my life.

The expectations are too many. Everyone wants a perfect piece of me. Well, too bad,  I can only be excellent when whole.

I am whole. I am whole.

So I'm ending this rant right now.

If you read this and you've gotten to this point,  this break down,  this fatigue,  this pain,  tell yourself that you're whole.

You're whole.  YOU are WHOLE.

hey,  I love you. You,  reading this to the end.  Thank you darling.
Thank God for the day. It was beautiful regardless.

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5 REASONS WHY YOU NEED GLASSES

 5 REASONS WHY YOU NEED GLASSES
So, you’ve thought of getting a pair of glasses or you’ve got one or you’re just curious? Well, you’re in the right place.
In the next few lines, you’ll be finding out why you should invest in a pair or two of glasses. Apart from being your awesome friend and adviser, I'm an optometrist-in-training. Few months to go and I'll be a licensed eye-doc!
How does that affect you?
 Well, it means I have close to expert knowledge on what I’m about sharing. Sooooo, my opinion counts.
Right. Let’s get to it.

Firstly, what do I mean by glasses?
Before you roll your eyes and get off this page, read this.
Glasses are not just the pair of spectacles your mom or dad wears to read or the round dorky pair Harry Potter wears. Glasses are any type of eye-wear worn to cover the eyes. We’ll leave it at that for now.

Now, here’s why you need glasses.
Ready for the big reveal? Perhaps you know why already. Okay let’s see.

1. To protect your eyes from the harshness of the weather.
I’m sure you’re familiar with sunglasses. Almost anyone can and do own at least a pair. They are very handy in hot weather conditions and even in the cold ones too. Now, you may think that they’re meant to be worn only under the sun (because they shield your eyes from the rays of the sun). but, what about in storms?
When there’s dust and you’re in a fast-moving vehicle, glasses shield your eyes from particles and debris.

Besides, even if you own them for sunny days too, you’re quite smart. Those rays can do more harm to your eyes than you may ever notice.
So, you get it now. Get a pair of sunglasses today.

2. To correct any refractive error you may have.
There are way too may persons walking around with eyes that have optical imbalance. That doesn’t make a lot of sense, right?
Okay.
Look at it this way. Some of you can see objects that are closer but can’t see the ones that are far while others can see the farther objects but have difficulty seeing clearly and comfortably, the things that are closer.

Did you just roll your eyes and murmur, “we’re not dumb, please”?🙄
Well, that is called a refractive error. Refractive errors are aberrations that are present in the way your eyes refract light that enters it. I don’t think you’d appreciate a lecture right now but I’m sure you get the gist.
 Now, this is the most important reason you should get glasses. Don’t wait for symptoms to appear or worsen. Get your corrective lenses now!

To do that, you’d need an eye test. Talk to the optometrist closest to you. Thank me later.

3. To protect your eyes from bright light from gadgets, electronic devices and headlights of cars.
  Have you ever been in the traffic or just driving on the road and this annoying driver drives by with lights that can blind?
Have you ever rubbed your tired and smarting eyes after a long time in front of your computer?
Have you ever?
If your answer is yes to any or all the questions above, then you need glasses.
Don’t argue with me. I’m an eye-doc in training, remember?😀🤓If you doubt me, ask your optometrist. Oh and uhh, advise your parents and siblings and friends too. Let them know how smart you’ve become. You have facts to back up your claims.

4. To cover your eyes when they don’t look pretty.
I don’t know why I have a feeling that the guys reading this would be like, “well, I don’t want my eyes looking pretty”🙄
Boys and girls, men and women, listen up. We ALL have bad eye days.😐
 You might wake up with a red eye or swollen lid or maybe you cried too much after a funeral or a failed test or a breakup or whatever.
A pair of glasses would shield you from prying eyes and curious minds. You wouldn’t have to explain anything to anyone. Isn’t that nice? Say thank you.😎

5. To look stylish.
You didn’t know glasses are now fashion pieces? Oh come on! I know you know.

Well, just to remind you, glasses can be the oomph your simple outfit needs. Whether they are sunglasses or corrective spectacles, they can add a lot of spice to your outfit.

 Do you want that nerdy-stylish look? Or are you going for the multi-millionaire look? Or you simply want to look like the awesome rap-artist you aspire to be? Get a pair of glasses.

Extra tips: if you do have a refractive error and you still want to look stylish, you can! It’s all about the frames. Let your optometrist guide your choice. You can get a pair of glasses that covers two or more of the needs above.
You’re welcome.

I hope you learnt something new. You didn’t? No way. Stop joking. 😀

I’d love to hear from you.

 If there’s anything you think I left out, tell me in the comment section. If there’s anything you want me to talk about, maybe about the eyes or anything at all, ask. ASK AWAY. I’d be more than happy to connect with you.

You made it to the end of the article. Thank you. Tap the like button and share, will you? Bye for now.

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ANNOUNCEMENT

Hey lovelies! 😘

How are you? I hope this meets you well.

I got good responses concerning the last post. The topic was WHY YOU FEEL BAD ALL THE TIME.  A lot of people confirmed the reasons stated and added some.
I'll have to make another post about the other reasons people  stated.

I just want to use this opportunity to thank you all for your support so far and to say that Odd lenses wouldn't be what it is without its odd readers. Muahhh! 😘😘😙

One more thing. 😀 We're going to be having discussions about pressing issues of life in a forum called THE TRUTH ABOUT THE MATTER. Exciting,  right? The next post would be an extension of the previous.  We're going to tackle the issue of being broke. So,  get ready. It's time for financial talk. Ding ding ding!


Thanks,  thanks,  thanks,  thankssssssss.
Thanks guys.  ✌

To your success,
Thelma.

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WHY YOU FEEL BAD ALL THE TIME

Wow! Do you really feel bad or you are just a curious cat? 

Well, you're here now,  right?  Let's get to it.

People get sad everyday and feel bad and frustrated.  Many of these people just wallow in their sadness without even bothering to know why.  Next thing you know,  they're depressed.  That's another game altogether.  So these could be some of the reasons why you feel bad all the time. 

1. You're broke.  Smile or laugh.  Say "duuhh" if you want but it's true.  When you don't have money to get the things you need and want,  you'll feel very bad.  Happiness is tied to material things (joy isn't though). Material things are necessary for comfort and these things are gotten with money.  So check your pocket.  Your sadness and could be because the bills are missing from your wallet. 

2. You have dysfunctional relationships: This is the big apple.  You may want to live in denial and act like nothing ruffles your clothes.  But you know the truth.  Humans are social animals.  When the relationships you have suck or let's say,  things aren't going between you and your family or your bestie or even a colleague at work,  it would make you feel bad. Many times,  it may start as a small disagreement with grudges that are swept under the carpet.  If it goes on without being resolved,  you'll have a big bulge of restlessness. Should we talk about a couple going through rough times?  It's so not happy-ish.  So,  ask yourself if you've had a fall-out with anyone at all, even if it's the lady that cleans your office. 

3. You are at a crossroad of sorts concerning something important: Okay.  Let me explain. Sometime back, I had to make a big decision. It involved my course of study in the University. Being very analytic,  I was confused and torn on what to do because the course I was offered admission to study was not in any way appealing.  Anyway,  long story short,  I didn't know what to do and it made me sad almost all the time. So,  again, think and know if there's any decision you need to make that you're confused about.  At least,  counsel and advice could help in this case. 

4. LOW SELF ESTEEM: Yes.  This is a major cause of sadness.  Seeing as I don't have a degree in Behavioural/Clinical psychology, I can't really explain the dynamics. I just know that when you feel and think less of yourself,  it makes you very sad.  You feel like you're not important and not needed or wanted by people around.  Everything and everyone makes you feel like toilet paper. Trust me guys,  it's a bad place to be in. People who have this problem often need professional help.  And it doesn't mean that any other thing is surely wrong with this person.  It just means they've been exposed to a lot of unhealthy situations and people and information. Do you have low self esteem?  You're prone to severe depression if you do. 

Well,  I hope this has helped you put a finger on why you feel bad all the time or what may be dragging you by the feet into depression. If there's anything I've left out, I'll talk about it in the next post. 

Have anything to contribute?  Let's talk in the comment section. 

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NO SIZE FITS ALL

PC: ourlifeisbeautiful.com

A one-size-fits-all never fits all.
You were created to be somebody's perfect size
And many people's good fit,
So don't fret,  don't cry
When many hands push you aside on the rack,
Think of the perfect body
That you were made for,
Because you'll hug it tight,
You'll hide its nakedness,
You'll give it warmth.
Dear person,
Be your own size.

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LETTERS TO ME

How many ideas lay asleep on the pages of my book? 
When will they be given bodies and made alive? 
Where is their breath of life? 
Is their maker struggling for life too? 
If so,  would they ever be put to bed?

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ON PEDOPHILIA AND SOCIAL ACCEPTANCE by Ikenna Echewodo Chinyeaka

The issue of Pedophilia  has been on the desk for quite some time now and it is astonishing to hear and see that society wants to consider it acceptable. There are certain things that remain wrong no matter how many consider it normal.  We can't go along with the mainstream on everything especially on pedophilia.  Well,  that's if they are trying to say it is not wrong in every sense of the word.  Let's see what what an embittered  graduate of Law has to say about it.

"Because I know some of the people who can view my social media posts probably have secret pedophilic affinities and urges, let me make it clear that if I hear any of you abused a child, I'll put my feet to the ground and make sure you get the punishment you totally deserve.

It's totally embarrassing to know that even now, some persons are pushing advocacy for the integration of pedophiles into the LGBTQ+ community and it is worse, living with the fear that the international community feels there's a discussion to be had on the issue.

It is true that there's been a heated debate across the world over the extent of liberalism and liberation that can be afforded individuals with respect to sexual orientations and while I think it is well within individual rights for persons to exercise sexual franchise in a wide array of inclinations, it is implausible and absolutely unjustifiable to say that sexual exploitation of any sort should be allowed.

This is very basic and I know a lot of you are aware but I'll still explain for the sake of directional clarity.

The dynamics of power-play are very crucial and often regulated in a lot of circumstances and that's why activities like insider trading that guarantees asymmetry of business information is morally and legally wrong in a lot of instances. The reason for this is that it unfairly tips the balance in favour of one party over the other.

How does this seemingly far fetched example fit into the framework of the conversation on pedophiles, you may ask? Sexual abuse and exploitation.
On the one hand, it is trite in psychology and other behavioural sciences that children cannot validly give consent to certain activities because they either do not fully grasp the implications such activities may bode for them even where it is thoroughly explained and again, because even if they do which is of course rarely the case, they are not physically and mentally psyched for indulgence as this may irreparably hurt them and skew their growth process.
Essentially, the point is that children can't give consent on certain occasions and even if they can, they can't live with the consequences.
I am yet to see anyone successfully argue against and be taken seriously with the contentions in the last slide especially as it borders on sexual capacity.
Knowing how this may harm children, the biggest thing pedophiles bring to the table is the age long justification of having a biological imperative to be sexually attracted to children and this doesn't cut it for me nor should it cut it for anyone.
Why? I'll explain.
Much in the same way we don't take rapists seriously when they claim to have been tempted or even more befittingly, kleptomaniacs when they can show a psychological dimension to being incapable of keeping their hands to themselves, we should never use the argument of biological imperatives to justify clear instances of exploitation and abuse because then it would mean that the brazenness of human nature would be free to run amok unchecked and apologists would always have a strong defence in their arsenal.
We can't justify everything like that.
If you truly can't control yourself against children, maybe it's time to plan a long holiday to a psychiatric facility because honestly, you're a danger to society and we are not obligated to tolerate you.
We've been putting mad people away for ages for being mad, I'm not sure there'll be a problem with quarantining persons who have presented a severe case of psychological imbalance if it helps us protect vulnerable groups like children.
Thank you."

While there are conflicting issues on what is right and what is not,  we should not hesitate to remember to fight for what is human/humane.

If you have questions for the writer,  direct them to his facebook page @Ikenna Echewodo Chinyeaka.
You can drop your comments too.

Ikenna Echewodo Chinyeaka is a Human Rights activist who just graduated from the University of Calabar as a Law student.  He hopes to and is actively engaged in bringing social change through debating and public speaking.

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WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A WRITER

Greetings, my fellow ink addicts!

How's it in the word pit these days?  A lot of people think its really cool to introduce yourself and be like "...and I write too". Some would see you as an artsy person,  you know,  very cool and all.  Others would say you're just lazy and boring.  Can somebody be a witness or am I the only weirdo here? 🙄🤓
Well,  for those who don't understand what it means or feels like to be a writer,  let me tell them what we go through behind the scenes.

1. Writers get inspired by the smallest and oddest things: Well,  if you have or have had a writer friend,  you can relate.  You know that moment when you're both doing something or talking about something and the person just stops and looks at you,  maybe smiles and tells you that you're brilliant  and that they've just gotten an idea for some inking? Yeah. ✌ That's us.  I've done it to my friends too many times to count. Even food inspires me.  Rain inspires me.  A child running around in nothing but faded panties inspires me.  Okay,  let me stop else this would turn to a poem😁

2. The temptation or problem of working on many different ideas at once: Can I get another witness? Don't lie,  you guys😑
I mean all you writers out there. You might be in the middle of a beautiful story and the ending or a line begins to take you to new places😁 Kai!  And fiam! Faster than the snap of two fingers,  you open a new word document. Many times,  the look of a blank page is so appealing,  it's strange. Sometimes,  you get three different story ideas at once and you start all at once.  The worst is when you're dealing with these and you get a new prompt for a contest and none of the stories match the theme🙄🙄 This is a real struggle, I tell you.  Seest thou a writer who can finish a story/work before going to another,  he shall stand before...

3. We are our biggest critics: Before we push our work to our editors or post it on our blogs or facebook pages,  we read it again and an uneasiness settles like puddles in our stomachs.  We begin to ask if our readers would like our work and all and...sighs!  That sort of thing.  Writers are humans too and many of us have that tinge of perfectionism when it comes to our work.  We have to keep it real though.

4.Writer's block is our own illness: I've never met a writer who hasn't been blocked before.  Many of us stay 'ill' for long. For some,  it stays for years. It's something no writer prays for but life can just be sinister at times and inject this dreadful disease into our systems.  But we are more than conquerors through him who loved and loves us,  right?  And who loves the writer if not the reader? 😀😁😘 We love you too.  Just pray well that we all don't get blocked at once one day,  else... 🙄😌

Well...
I've tried now,  haven't I? These are some of the things that come with being a writer. Tell your writer friends to confirm or confirm these points.😌 If you think I left anything out,  tell me in the comment section.  You know I love to hear from you,  right?  I do!
Come on!  Say something 😀

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SHOOT YOUR SHOT

My friend,
Shoot your shot,
And I will shoot mine.
Then, we will both stand
And see whose arrow pierces which heart.
Tell your stories
And let me tell mine.
Let us live and let live.
In the end,
Time will examine history's luggage
And tell us which is wrong or right.
Let us row this boat in peace,
Let us sit quietly at the ends of the boat,
Let us not fight the foolish fight of goats.

My friend,
I see you do not agree with my words,
With the expressions of my thoughts,
With the components of my being.
Will you now slay me?
Has the earth not given the atmosphere as a playground for all?
Shoot your shots,
Voice your thoughts,
If another heart is pierced,
Pat your new win,
Teach them to shoot their own shots.
Now, stay at your end,
Watch me do as you do.
This should be the one rule we should all be bound to.

My friend,
Life is fickle,
Death is no foreigner,
This we know,
These we know.
Stereotype is bad,
Or not.
How would we know
If we are tied to its apron strings?

This is the end of my banter.
My friend,
Be.
Be all you want.
Express it and let others join if they want.
I'll be.
I'll be all I want
Even if it's everything you're not.
Just don't fight me for it.
This is the end of my banter.
Shoot your shot,
And I will shoot mine,
Then we can throw greetings across the line.
Just don't cross that line.
This is the end,  my friend.

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BROWN SPOONS

We lived at Umuchima in the dusty town of Okigwe. It was a quaint little town that had old houses with dust coated roofs and narrow winding roads - the winding roads that lead to Abia State University. The dust came in torrents during the dry season, covering everything in its path. Hence, all the roofs were brown like the spoons we were born with. There was a lot of greenery, dust-coated greenery. The leaves were only truly green during the rainy seasons, when the rains would wash the leaves thoroughly and meticulously the way mother used to bathe me - she would use the big sponge she used in scrubbing Nne and Chidi to scrub me as though she were trying to wash the brown off my skin.
My sister, Nne, and I had to leave this place we were used to. We went to live with Aunty Ijay and her husband in their beautiful flat on Bisala road, Enugu. It was difficult for us at first to adapt to the new surroundings, the new culture, even the new foods we were introduced to. You see, we were not used to foods like fried potatoes and omelettes with custard for breakfast. We grew up eating the simpler things like left-over rice and ofe akwu or okpa and soaked garri. We were not poor. At least, that’s what mother always said to us whenever we asked her why we were so poor: “It is just a transition period, inugo?  Things will get better soon,” she would explain.
Father had not always been poor. Scratch that, he had not always been in the “transition period”.  According to what Mother told us, he was an “nku” in his time, even while they were courting. In other words, father was one of the richest people around back then. Mother usually told us that our father alongside some friends had stumbled upon some gold in the north where he went to look for greener pastures. They took the gold and sold to some white men and of course, father had the largest share. When mpa ukwu, our grandfather died, father spent a huge amount of the money hosting his guests at the burial. Mother said he even killed a cow. After the burial, there was still enough money to keep father in the higher echelons of society. Father left the village with mother and settled down in Port-Harcourt. He was overly generous. Mother advised him to stash some money away but father would reply; “If I don’t give when God has given me, how would I get blessed again? Biagodi o, do you know that I am an nku ? I have the money!” Eventually, after paying mother`s bride price, the spirit of sense visited father and made camp in his brain but relatives and village people have a special way of milking people dry the same way we used to suck our 10naira ice-cream from the sachet until it became a ghost of a sachet. Father’s relatives were coming to live with them when mother gave birth to Chidi. Then, life became so tough that they had to leave PH city for Enugu. Chidi was the only one who was born with a spoon that still had traces of silver on it. However, the spoon soon got completely rusted such that my parents had to move again but this time to Okigwe because mother was heavily pregnant with Nne.
I remember in seven colours how we used to sell wood to raise money for food. We usually ate in the morning and night when sales were good. At some point, father couldn’t pay Chidi`s school fees. He had to withdraw from the private school to join Nne and I in a public school. I remember how he came back in his white and blue uniform crying to mother about how local the school was and how we were not being taught well. Eventually, he joined some young men to carry cement in building sites to raise money for his fees at the private school because according to him: “I can’t survive in that school o ”. I usually did different things to help out. However, I preferred to just mind the goods in mother`s shop. These were some factors that pushed my parents to send my sister and I away to Enugu. “Things will be better for you two there,” Father said.
Enugu was all I had read about in books and had heard from my parents. The only problem was that it was just as dry as Okigwe, even worse. Nne and I used to trek for long distances to get water whenever the tankers failed to supply water to our neighbourhood and this happened often. The other problem was that aunty Ijay made us stay indoors when we were less busy. We didn’t know if there were other children in the compound. We were starved of playtime. Often times, I would cry so much that I wanted to go back to my parents and aunty Ijay would flog me without a shred of mercy. I was so convinced that she wouldn’t have children of her own because she was so wicked. Her husband was not always around. He was a business man who travelled to Cotonou, Onitsha and other places to do business. Nne was my everything. She would hold me close and console me with stories of how we would have so much money when we grow up. We talked about our brother, Chidi, and how he would be very rich: “ Chidi will buy jet for mother and father and he will build a big house here in Enugu and all of us will live together.”
I learnt a lot about the cruelty of life and about the horrible things lack or possession of money could do to people. Apart from being a witch as I referred to her when talking to my sister, Aunty Ijay was a lonely woman who took advantage of others. Nne and I agreed that she was one of those that made father poor. The man who lived near our school used to greet aunty Ijay every time she drove us to school. She always gave him “something for the kids”. The man was quite young and energetic. He was light-skinned and stout. He had the body of an athlete probably because he was a mason. He visited aunty Ijay on Saturdays and Sundays. They spent a lot of time behind closed doors. We never understood what was going on until we heard that the man`s wife had left him because he was cheating. When he owned up, he said he did it to feed her and their children. I felt bad for the innocent children who were caught in the middle of poverty and poverty-induced infidelity. Their spoons were not only rusted, their plates had lost their luster too.  
The stimulus to our success years later must have been the shocking news of mother`s death. Father said she died at home of an illness he did not know because there was no money to take her to the hospital. Chidi, who had gone abroad on scholarship, came back to handle the burial arrangements. I remember the way he sat on the ground crying like a baby immediately he came in. He later stood up and looked at the sky.
‘I must be rich in this life. My family can never suffer because of money. Agba ego nkiti, o zuzube. I will be rich,” he cried.
I didn’t cry like the others. At 15, I was much stronger than my age-mates. My family was afraid that I would self-destruct. They were wrong. Mother`s death made me swear to make money at all cost, to ditch my rusted, brown spoon.
Months passed, seasons came and passed. Cycles were repeated and my siblings and I grew. Chidi got connected abroad and made papers for father and I to go abroad too. Nne stayed backed and started a poverty alleviation non-governmental organization. She started it in the university and got sponsors through the man she later married. Some years down the line, father became ill. Nne was pregnant. I was engaged and Chidi already had two children. We all did our best to make sure father got the best medical attention regardless of the cost. We knew he would not survive but we wanted him to know that we had become little nkus and that we were out of the transitional period.  When he eventually died, we spent more money than was expected. Nne and Chidi killed two cows in honour of our parents. We buried father beside mother. After the guests had gone, we sat down in the well-furnished sitting-room in silence. We talked about life and about how far we had come. We were born with rusty, brown spoons but we ditched them for shiny silver spoons because change is the only constant on earth.

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Bound and rebounds!

We're back!

Hello mi darlings. 😊😁😁
Wait just a minute and hear me out.  😞😢
You lot must be so pissed.  I can't blame you though.  Odd Lenses was shut down for a month!  I was in the custody of the Writer's block Company.  I was starved of inspiration and ink. Boy!  It was devastating. 😩😧
Well,  good news is that I'm back now. We'll show those blockers that we're unstoppable. 😠😔
I missed you guys a whole lot.😥😥

Let's pick up the pieces,  shall we?😀😀

Meanwhile,  you could just whisper a welcome back.😄  Wouldn't hurt now,  would it?
Phew! 😅

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Diary of a lazy writer 3

Dear diary,
I looked and I saw that truth hurts.

I have so much to say all at once.  I'm so overwhelmed even as I write this.
Diary,  there are so many things that are important in life.  Someone might opine that everything is important to different persons.  Let me just rant.

So I didn't go to school today because I went to pay my tuition fee.  I ended up talking to a certain wise man.  He shot arrows of truth at me.  I was furious at first because I felt like he was condemning me, judging me.  At intervals,  the mini-me inside would concur with what he said. At some points,  mini me ran around the labyrinth of my heart,  my brain,  searching for excuses and people to blame for the misfortune I'm in.  You see,  some times,  many times,  people do not condemn or judge us,  it's the knowledge, awareness that they speak the truth that makes us condemn ourselves.  We then turn around again and want to blame the person for judging us.
Man is easily steered to irresponsibility.

I feel bad right now.  I feel bad lots of times.  I'm not a sad person.  I just...  Have a lot of shortcomings and it's not easy facing them and taking responsibility.
Brian Tracy in his book,  No Excuses,  said that the first step to becoming disciplined is to take responsibility for everything we do.
Well,  that's what I'm doing.
Usually,  I wouldn't write these things here but who knows,  maybe redemption has other people to visit and perhaps,  these words will lead the way.

I feel really bad.

I can't even begin to trace the origin of my carelessness.  But here are some things,  areas I messed up in.
¤ Association.  You are who you hang out with.  I got careless here.  Not like I started hanging out with the ones we would call riff-raffs,  no.  But I guess I started hanging out with people who had gotten too careless too.
¤ Information : because I write,  I exposed my mind to really dangerous stuff.  Not porn,  no.  But there are worse things than porn.  For me,  anything  that can destabilize the mind,  that can shake our convictions is dangerous.  I let in too much.
Here's a lesson.  Knowledge is good but you should only know so much.  Take in what you can process at your level.  Again,  censor the kind of knowledge you take in.  All things are lawful but not all things are expedient.  Say word!
¤Discipline: I probably shouldn't list this separately but the reason I started this diary in the first place-with its captionis because I became undisciplined.  I actually became lazy.

As an aside,  a part of me is thinking of how this post might draw traffic but truth is that I don't care!  I'm hurt.

I'll talk more about this later.  Let me start salvaging what I can.  I've got to gather with brethren.

Yours in pain,
Me.

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SOUNDS OF YON: My companion by Ada Thelma

Photocredit: colourbox.com

MY COMPANION
I need a companion, 
Someone with whom to share my opinion, 
If the enemies send their minions, 
I'll chop their heads in bits like onions.
If they try to break my union with my companion, 
I'll send them to oblivion, 
See,  I'll set their minds in pandemonium. 

I need a companion, 
Someone I could rely on,
A caring shoulder to lean on, 
Someone I could bond with like mother and son, 
One in whose arms I feel reborn, 
One in whose presence sorrow will be gone, 
One who would make me feel no sadness,  indeed none.

Help me find a companion,
find one with the heart of a Lion.
Find one with convictions as strong as Zion
find one fairer than a dandelion.
Find me a friend. 

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Voice of gods

Photo credit : orishaimage.com.

Voice of gods

So you began to believe, 
You were foolish,  worthless, 
You never did anything right, 
Never could. 
You believed because your father said so,
Your faith gave him his voice. 

That day Nnanna smiled at you, 
Even the next day you greeted him, 
And he replied "what's up? "
That day you told Esther about a bespectacled boy,
The one who caught butterflies, 
And set them free in the pit of your stomach, 
That day She told you he liked you too, 
You believed because she said so,
Your faith made her a god. 

That day too you heard,  
That day you saw Esther's round belly-bulge,
When they said 'Nnanna' and 'father' in one sentence,
That day the workers in your head screamed 'betrayal', 
A voice spoke inside, 
"Life never gives anything good,
Goodness is mined"
You believed because you told yourself to. 

That other day too, 
8years had rolled by, 
A young man sat in your office, 
That day you told him his sight was bad, 
The same day you convinced him, 
You told him bad was the new best, 
You told him he could live in paradise even with the worst vision, 
And he nodded in faith: "yes doctor"
because you were the god before him, 
Infusing pints of belief into him. 

And so it is,
That many be the voices we hear. 
Some said you were worthless, 
Some spewed lies like lines of fine linen, 
Some said you could not rise, 
That "we are cursed"
They told tales of woe, 
"Life is a bucket of dirty water'
They coaxed you to have faith
They made you want to believe 
But you couldn't, 
Because you had lost your faith. 

Note the voice of gods. 
The earth is for gods 
Voices that persuade us to do,  to believe, 
The hands with the wands, 
Directing the course of our thoughts, 
Like the music director of an orchestra.

Voice of gods, 
Human gods, 
The ones we crown with our faith, 
The ones that brew bitterness and despair, 
The ones with the loudest voices. 
But we can dethrone these gods, 
And they would lose their voices. 
Because even we are gods. 

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Diary of a Lazy Writer 2

Sunday, 17th June,  2018.

Dear diary, 

How art thou?  Me?  Yo soy bueno. Yo soy Caliente! 😀😀😀 I hope I got it.  I just remembered that from years ago. One girl that was claiming to teach me Spanish online sha.  I just hope I haven't insulted somebody's mother.  It's been a while,  I know.  You can dub me Sir Laziness,  knight of the kingdom of lazy writers.  Oh pardon me.  I'm hungry.  #yawns. 

The past week was so unfruitful,  to say the least.  I don't know if I was in a conscious coma or something.  It felt like someone was remote-controlling my body while I watched from somewhere. I just couldn't get myself to do anything productive.  Kai.  I think... Whoa!  No thinking for now.  It's raining cats and stones here...

I'm sleepy. 

So this is what I learned this week. 

* We should appreciate the seemingly little things because they make up the big things. 

* Being in a dark place isn't so bad.  That's where we learn what to do in the light, what the light means. Only bad thing is when you overstay in the dark.  I pray you understand me.
*If you can avoid being in a dark place,  please do.  The light is a better place,  always. 

*Laziness is bad, very bad! 

I'm sleepy. 

Maybe I should stop here before I write something stupid. I promise I'd write you again,  soon. 

Good night for now.

Yours specially, 

Me. 

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Heart to Heart by Okechi Favour Chinonso

I didn't want to think. Hell, I didn't need to think. I could not think. I could only feel- The pain of a thousand stings, the unexplainable hurt of a kick in the balls- There's no one word that could have accurately described exactly what I felt at that moment. It was surreal yet realistic, an out-of-body experience in flesh and blood.
The tongues of ice on my skin burned hotter than the fires in my throat. My head spun faster than a Ferris wheel. My tongue curled in upon itself. The process that formed words and sent them from the brain to the mouth seemed to have been severely impaired.
My brain screamed in agony. I saw stars. Not the brilliant blue-white hard diamond glittering from the skies, but devilish green little monstrosities bearing evil grins in the oppressive darkness. The moon hung lank among them, but still managed to be haughty and cold.
My pulse quickened and threatened to tip the scales.
My oesophagus forgot it was supposed to send food down, and suddenly carved out a new niche for itself in sending bolus running up and out through my mouth.
Bile gushed from my mouth like the new fountains created after a refreshing rainfall. I finally was able to somehow muster the strength and look up. My eyes burned. I forced them against their newfound will to look at the person who'd began the process and set the ball rolling, the person who I'd handed the keys of my heart to, the person who'd seen fit to smash the padlocks guarding the heart and commit arson inside it. The person who'd just made certain I'd never have a living, loving heart ever again.
 I looked down. I looked down at the reddish organ in my hand, at the chest of my lover that had been sliced open, at the rivulets of blood that flowed from the deep gash, at his lifeless eyes, at his lolling head, at the look of extreme surprise etched on his battered features.
We were gonna talk, you see, he and I. I just needed to place his heart against mine. For the intended heart-to-heart.

Okechi Favour Chinonso is a final year student of Optometry in Abia State University. He writes sparingly and loves good food.  He's also training to be a computer programmer.

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UNITY POT by Iruke Ebuka

UNITY POT

Nuclear is Alien... 

Nuclear power from outside space? 

Not my point!!! 

I mean that Nuclear Family is Alien.

It is alien to the basic African ideology. 

Our "Nuclear" is "Extended."

The very facet of our individual existences

has root in the spirit of NWANNE.

We are by nature community beings. 

Our real heroes are those who really lived and live for the rest. 

E'er heard of the Unity Pot? 

I'll tell you about it. 

Our Unity Pot is large... That's because our Nuclear is Extended.

The food steaming in Daa Nkechi's small kitchen is for her kids, the neighbours two children, grandma, and the youths in the village square. 

Down to our cooking tradition, AFRICA VALUES sharing together.

The next time you use your alien gas cooker to ready the meal, improvise our Unity Pot and put a smile on the faces of those hungry lads who can barely afford the most basic of needs!!!

Iruke Ebuka is a young African who believes in the spirit of UBUNTU. He is an advocate for the restoration of Africa and the African to her glory days.  He's a student of Optometry in Abia State University.  

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GUEST WALK-INS!

Hello my odd followers!
Been a while.  I know,  I know.  So many rooms have been locked in this building.  Well,  rejoice!  The guest room officially opens today.  Yipeeee!
Sorry.  That was very unprofessional.
#clears throat.
Okay mi darlings. I bring you Guest walk-ins.
Every Wednesday,  we'll have a guest in the building.  So you can come on in and see what they bring in.  Don't forget to keep your lenses on my loves.
Also,  if you want to be a guest or you know someone who would want to walk-in (with good stuff for the house please), please write an odd letter to our manager via her facebook inbox @ Ada Thelma Iyke or leave a comment here.

Expect our Hall of Fame to open soon too.  Yesssss.
Alright. Enjoy lovelies!

Signed: Director,  Oddlenses.com

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