I watched Friends chronologically for the first time this year, so this may seem like a synopsis of the show. Synopsis is a stretch anyway, but walk with me.
I think one of the reasons why Friends is so universally loved is because as you watch the show, the characters start to feel like they're your friends. Or they start to make that kind of friendship seem attainable. When they did the Friends Reunion five years ago, a lot of the people they interviewed said this, so yeah. One of the producers said the one line pitch of the show was “It's about that time in your life where your friends become your family”.

The experience of the show was very enjoyable for me because I love to observe friendship dynamics. It's one of my favourite things to see— in real life and in movies, shows and books.
Something major I took away from watching the show is that their proximity was a huge plus for the friendship.
I think this is where I give the spoiler alert but I'll try not to spoil too much.

• Rachel and Monica were friends in high school, but they only reconnected and became very close as adults when Rachel escaped her wedding and moved in with Monica.

• Ross and Chandler were friends and roommates in college and they'd have probably lost touch if Chandler didn't live opposite Ross' sister—Monica.

• Joey and Chandler were strangers until they became roommates and then friends.

• Phoebe and Monica were roommates in the past, and they were Chandler's neighbours.

So you see that they were all very physically close to each other, and in the same age range… cherry on top.

The hub of their friendship was Central Perk, a café where they spent an absurd amount of time. Another micro-hub was Monica's apartment.

The characters in Friends are not the template for friendship, but I think we all can learn a thing or ten from the show.

Love shows up.
If Ross had a boring paleontology thing, they were all going to show up even if they'd give him grief and poke fun about it the whole time.
If Joey had a play, no matter how little his role in it was, everyone was going to be there.
When Pheobe was in the hospital giving birth to her brother's triplets (watch the show for context lol), they were all present.
The many times Rachel and Monica needed love/job interventions, it became everybody's thing.
If Chandler had girl (Janice) trouble, everyone intervened.
They constantly showed up for each other. It may have seemed easy and convenient because of the proximity, and the fact that they didn't really seem to have “serious” jobs, but it is still sacrifice. It takes sacrifice to build intimacy with anyone.

In our generation, we're learning so much about boundaries and self preservation and it is affecting our quality of friendships. I love boundaries! They're great and very necessary. But it gets to a point where your boundaries start to make your relationships very fickle.
I think for the whole boundaries thing to work in friendship, you first have to figure out what friendship means to you. Who exactly is your friend? And then you figure out what you're willing to sacrifice for friendship. Is it time? Personal space? You have to make these decisions.

I've been out of school for a while and gosh, I miss being in the same space with my friends. I miss knowing that I could show up to their rooms unannounced to just exist and I'll still be welcome, and vice versa. Now I know that we're adults pro max, and scheduling will have to enter for friendships to thrive.
There are new rules and nuances as we grow and relationships evolve and we have to understand and accept that, even when it's hard.

What I'm trying to say is that while proximity makes friendships easier, the lack thereof doesn't mean the friendship has to die or go into coma.

Sure, it would be way easier if I could sit next to my friends in class forever, or if we were neighbours—God please, amen. But we can't not recognise that social media is a huge resource to help our friendships.

Snapchat has worked wonders for me and one of my closest friends. We've been long distance for almost our entire friendship.

You need to go the extra mile to involve your people in your life. You need to want to be involved in your people's lives.

Lack of proximity has weakened/ended a handful of my wonderful friendships in the past, and as I got closer to graduating uni, I tried to evaluate and acknowledge my part in that, so that I'll try not to let it happen again.

You really need to put in the work.
I remember a post-fight conversation I had with a friend like six years ago, and because we'd been having a consistent fight streak, the question "Are we doing this wrong or does friendship require this much work?" came up. We really had no idea the amount of work it required, and will always require. I'm happy to say we're still friends and we broke our fight streak long long long ago.

I always wanted to be the girl who had these easy-breezy, go with the flow type friendships, and that's how some of my friends breezed away and flowed past, right in front of my face.

There's no getting around the fact that every good relationship in life requires work. Your relationship with God, with yourself, with your parents, siblings, family, friends, coworkers; some require more work than others, but they all require some level of effort. So put on your big girl/boy pants and get to work.

The efforts may seem cringe, but God forbid that you lose a good thing because you don't want to be cringe.

I really love the theme song of Friends and I love to share music.

See you next time.

EOP means end of posting (test). As the name implies, it is a test written at the end of a posting. A posting typically lasts 8 weeks.

So, carry on.

O&G EOP results came out like thirty minutes ago and I don't even know what to feel. I'm just numb. And boy, I am tired. I am so tired.
It's crazy how I expected worse but I was still hopeful. Like they say, it's the hope that kills. What is it please? 40.4 ke? The .4 is even annoying me.
I actually read my books, God knows. I studied. Has this become my new normal? This is the one thing I'm supposed to be good at—haba!
I'm not even going to blame myself because I do that everytime and it's not fair to me. I don't deserve that from me.

So for this particular one, I'm blaming everyone and everything else. Cassia, I exonerate you. You did nothing wrong, you hear? These things happen. You can't change anything about it now.
So this means I have a cumulative of 45/100 in this junior posting. I failed O&G Junior posting. Wow. No be so them dey get distinction o.
The class performance was so terrible, and I'm so mad because we'll start hearing Batch O everywhere. They'll come with their advice that sounds a lot like insult again. Omo the day I leave this 500 level, I will cry hot tears.
Now, for my own sanity, I've dashed all my hopes for Paediatrics. Let me just expect the worst because hope deferred makes the heart sick. My heart is already sick enough as is.
None of my children will study medicine. Not if I can help it. I can't allow them do this to themselves. They should do something that validates them, not something that makes them question their worth and intelligence every eight weeks, abi everyday.
Right now, I'm trying to do that thing where I end every journal entry with a silver lining and how grateful I am because at least I did "okay", but it's not coming. It won't come.

Nothing about this test and this result makes me grateful. Nothing. I know it may be stupid, and I sound like a spoiled brat because God does not owe me good grades or anything else but I don't know how else to think. And there's really no need to lie to myself. Maybe I'll be grateful in the evening but now I just want to sit with these feelings. I want to continue seething.

Wait—no, I don't even want to do that. I want to suppress all this anger I feel. I don't even want to call my mom because I don't want to worry her, and if I call daddy I'll just burst into tears and I can't handle that right now.
Gosh! Medical school is such a thorn in my flesh and I just want it to be over like yesterday. April 2026? That's a bloody long time! I want to scream at something or somebody. I want to cry but I can't even bring myself to do that.
I was telling Ochoyo that I love/hate how hardened I've become about stuff like this. Love because if I cried over every test that doesn't go my way, there'd be nothing left of my aqueous humour and my sanity. Hate because it seems like I don't care anymore, but God knows that I care a lot, but I fear that I'll soon stop caring.
If I ever desperately need therapy, it'd be because of this yeye career that I chose.

I forgive you little Cassia for dreaming this dream.

I forgive you 13 year old Cassia for not rethinking things when you told daddy you wanted to go to Science class and he asked three times if you were sure. I forgive you for being so sure.

I forgive you 15 year old Cassia for not thinking twice when filling out that damn JAMB form.

I forgive you 21 year old Cassia for being too hard on yourself.

Oh and by the way, I finished The Office last week and it was amazing. Everything and more. I think I've found my new comfort show. So I guess that's going to be my biggest W of the month. Tchew.

Whoa! So um, that was a lot. As I was typing this I was just laugh-crying. I really hit academic rock bottom that day and it shows. I had failed both my Paediatrics tests up until this point, and I only passed the previous O&G test by a hair so I was feeling pretty dumb.
My very next entry was the following day. The Paediatrics EOP results came out and I passed in flying colours. Remontada if there ever was one. I cried tears of joy. God knew how much I needed that. The academic validation that day hit like crack.

At my induction ceremony, when it was time for awards, I was 100% sure that I was just going to celebrate with my classmates who got them. My mom had joked about me getting an ward prior, and I laid it to her straight. Don't get your hopes up.

When it was time for the best student in O&G to be called, it was a tie apparently. I was so excited for whoever the two people would be. When the first person was called, I cheered so loudly because she deserves it. Then I heard my name second.

I can't even explain that moment to you. I was so shocked. My heart rate spiked. I froze for a bit. I don't remember my walk to that stage. How? I asked myself. I really never expected it.

I've always told anybody who cares to listen how much I don't like O&G and would never specialise in it. So this was shocking. I remember jokingly telling a friend in 400 level that if by any miracle I get an award at my induction, I would specialise in whatever field it was. Thankfully, I got another award for Community Medicine so nobody can hold me to O&G.

I've spent so much time trying to convince myself that that day actually happened. I'm grateful for my friends who celebrated me and said how much I deserve it, because I really needed to hear that then. I'm grateful to my parents, siblings and aunties really. Their smiles and happy tears from that day are burned in my brain. I'm grateful to myself for always getting up and going again throughout medical school, for putting in the work even when it seemed futile, for handling every failure with grace and every victory with gratitude.

I am immensely grateful to God for taking my little efforts and magnifying them, for holding and carrying me. I saw someone on X say that passing an exam is not the miracle people make it seem. Hmmm. Medical students beg to differ. The number of factors involved that you have no control over? To me it is totally providential. God's divine providence.

God is good, you guys. God is faithful. You can trust Him.

I've felt the need to share this particular journal entry since last year when I finished 500 level. I now know why I didn’t really feel peace about it until now.

I hope my testimony encourages you ❤️.

When I got home for my pre-induction break, I felt like I could breathe easier. For the first time in a long time, I had zero academic responsibilities or the other responsibilities that came with being a student. I was finally living my lazy girl dreams.

But I was getting bored very fast, and it was something I was scared to voice out. Before I say “I’m bor–” and next thing I’m teleported back to 400 level. Path and Pharm? God forbid in Jesus name o.

That’s the reason why I didn’t want to admit that I was getting bored out of my mind.

Cue Curtis Roach and Tyga's 2020 hit: Okay I'm bored in the house and I'm in the house bored!

I finally said it when I saw ’s tweet because you can only lie to yourself for so long.

I was watching Friends at the time, doomscrolling a lot, sleeping plenty and just doing the most random stuff to fill my days but there was still residual boredom.

I came face to face with the reality that medical school had somehow made its most stressful events seem exciting to me: long classes, ward rounds, clinics, study hours and all. That was jarring.

Like eww Cassia, you’re finally free and you have the audacity to be bored?

It’s interesting how from childhood, we’re conditioned to think of boredom as so negative just because it’s uncomfortable. It signals that our current environment is not stimulating enough, and it forces us to confront ourselves.

But really, is that such a bad thing?

I’ve been sitting with this reality because I recently listened to the ISWIS episode where Jola and FK spoke about child safety online. Apparently, there have been moves to ban social media use for under 16s in the UK, and this was the basis for the conversation. They really said a lot about the ways the use of social media is affecting kids these days, and when they said children can no longer just be bored and the fact that it’s reducing their creativity and development of social skills, I almost gave a standing ovation.

In retrospect, as a child who didn’t have a phone or any social media presence until I was 16, I was probably bored a lot but I found ways to have fun with my siblings. Of course, we watched TV and movies on our mom’s laptop but my parents had a no social media rule until you’re done with secondary school and now I really appreciate them for it. Back then it felt like they wanted us trapped in stone age.

Nigerian parents hate to hear ‘I'm bored’ so much. Their rebuttal is always "go and read your books", "go and pray" or "go and sleep".

In fact, if they're as witty as my mom, the response is "it's because you have belleful now". Mummy, who said hunger and boredom can't coexist?

My siblings and I passed down the 'trauma' to our youngest because we had phones when she was very young. Whenever she said she was bored, we would call her Bode 😂. I almost feel bad because I started it, but it’s character development.

I feel like I've gone off on a lot of tangents, but the point of this is that I'm learning to embrace boredom. On very few days, when I start to feel bored, I just allow myself to sit with it. Let's be bored and see if we faint. Haven't fainted yet, so I'll keep going.

In one of those meetings with myself, I decided to start crocheting again. Well that's more serious than it sounds. I learnt how to crochet in primary school and I hadn't done it in a while so why not? It hurts my arm a little, but it's a fun activity.

Maybe I'm more eager to embrace being bored because I'll soon start working, and I'm sure that in a few months, I'll seek boredom and not find it.

Let me get in my motivational speaker bag and dare to say that boredom is a gift. Dramatic/emphatic pause. It’s a sign that you are a living thing and you’re not a robot. You can’t just keep going, going and going no matter how much you want to. Stillness is good. Sometimes the things we do to avoid boredom end up making our lives worse.

We’ve used “an idle mind is the devil’s workshop” to delude ourselves into thinking that any form of activity is healthy. Sometimes an active mind can be the devil’s entire house if you’re not careful.

I’m learning to pace myself and just do human things. Talk to people without interfacing with a screen, read a book no matter how boring, sing without music in my ears, crochet something that has no use whatsoever (my sister asked me what I’m making yesterday and I said I don’t know and we both burst into laughter).

I find that one reason that people don’t like being bored is that we think it makes us seem boring. We think it’s flaw in our personality. Whenever you feel it, you just hear Jake Peralta’s voice in your head screaming “Ya boring!”

But being bored doesn’t mean you’re boring. I mean, the most exciting person you know (me) also gets bored, so you’re good babe!

In the words of God knows who, boredom is not the enemy; constant stimulation is. Sometimes the best thing you can do is be still long enough to recognise how vast and beautiful your mind is.

Get busy being bored. Ouh, someone should get that on a T-shirt or something.

Embrace boredom today. Bye ❤️

Hi guys! I have so much to tell you but I’ve been so shy. I’ll soon overcome my shyness, so fingers crossed.

Thank you for reading. See you on the next one.

I can't even remember how old I was in this photo that makes an appearance on all of my birthdays, but by the pink DIY crown on my head, you can tell I was destined for greatness. Bow to your queen 😂.

Anyway, I got an idea in January to do this, and I'm so glad I was able to do it even though I lost my first draft.

Enjoy!

23 things/people I’ve grown to love in 23 years

1. Life. “You have a very beautiful life Cassia. I hope you never lose sight of that” is a statement I end some of my journal entries with. I’ve grown to love my life, and life in general. Life is a gift, and I’m glad that I’ve woken up everyday for the last twenty three years to this beautiful gift.

2. Family. I have a close-knit family and I’ve always loved that. I can’t remember any holiday growing up that I wasn’t around nuclear and extended family. I really love my parents. Growing up brings you face to face with all the sacrifices parenting requires and as my appreciation for them grows, love inadvertently follows. It’s always funny to look at my siblings and see how different we all are even though we share blood. I was looking through photos today and it made me so happy. I'm so honoured to have grown up with those guys, so honoured to watch them grow up. I would go to war for my siblings if need be. I’m grateful that I have a present family. There is love at home.

3. Friendship. I don’t have a lot of friends, never have. But the quality of my friendships has always beaten quantity hands down! Ugh, I really love my friends. Having friendships is basically finding and choosing family and I’m grateful that God blessed humans with that privilege. I also really love and appreciate friendship as a concept. God ate with that. I find myself observing people’s interactions with their friends very closely—whether that’s in real life or movies, and it makes me so happy.

4. Music. I could go on and on bro. Music has been a huge part of my life. I remember seasons in my life by the songs I was obsessed with. I love that music makes me feel. There’s absolutely no need to flog this, real ones get it.

5. Creative writing. The fact that I can string random words together that make sense has always been very cool to me. I love writing so much. It has been such an outlet for me. My journals are some of my most prized possessions. Years and years of learning and growing all documented in my own words. I’ve actively been on substack for 2+ years and it's very exciting that it has opened my gift to a wider audience. I’m so grateful for my parents, my siblings, my friends, acquaintances, loved ones and even the random people that don’t even know me from Adam, because it’s one thing to know you have a gift, but it’s so rewarding to have people affirm your gift. It is such an honour that my gift has never lacked affirmation.

6. Reading. I’ve always loved reading books, especially fiction. Words fascinated me as a child. I became very good at reading because whenever I saw a word I didn’t know the meaning of, or couldn’t pronounce, I got offended, so I changed it quickly. In the same vein, my favourite author in the world is Francine Rivers. Yes, I know. Me and 101 other Christian girls, but that’s how you know she’s that girl. I remember picking up my first FR book (Redeeming Love) when I was nine, I think. I took it from my Aunty Mercy’s nightstand. Shout out to her mehn, she walked so I could somersault. I cannot explain how my 9 year old mind felt reading that book. It felt like a whole new world opened to me. I feel like that with every book of hers I read, with every read, and I do be re-reading them A LOT. In summary, I love reading and I appreciate every single writer that has made reading enjoyable for me.

7. Sitcoms. I obviously enjoy the comedy, but I also enjoy how real they are. They’re not overly dramatic, and could very much be real life. I really love that. The first sitcom I ever locked in on was The Office. Since then there’s been Abbott Elementary, Brooklyn 99, Modern Family and Friends. There’ll definitely be more. 7b. I love a good romcom and I really like The Rookie. I’m sure by my geeking out, you can already tell what my answer to Movies or Series would be. These points have become so long winded, let’s try to rapid fire.

8. Rice. Seems basic because as a Nigerian, if you don’t like rice you’d probably starve, but I really love rice in almost all forms.

9. Learning new things, but on my own terms.

10. Pastries. Puff puff is such a babe, and it hurts to see her get disrespected by people because of miniature meat pie and fish roll. A good doughnut is basically the best pastry you can offer me, but please keep the milk away, thanks.

11. Yam. Never beating the “Benue girl” allegations apparently. Very versatile gift from God. Boiled yam, fried yam, pounded yam, roasted yam, amala, yam porridge—great stuff. In the same vein, potatoes and plantain. So geuddddd.

12. Cute and effective stationery. Pens, highlighters, pencils— the works.

13. Jewellery. Rings and bracelets are particularly so cool to me. I'll just add here that sunglasses are my favourite accessory.

14. Easy clothes. Sweatpants, T-shirts, shorts. I love clothes I can just lounge in.

15. Sundresses. I love how dainty they are.

16. Road trips, even though this country has diminished my love for this. I love a long car ride in an ideal society. Music blaring with car-aoke, possibly snacks and then good conversation 👌.

17. Holidays. Not vacations yet, but I’m sure I’d love those too. I just love not having academic or work responsibilities.

18. Puns. Love an intelligent or silly pun.

19. Funny people. Especially people who don’t even try to be funny. One of my favourite compliments that I’ve gotten a couple of times is “you’re effortlessly funny”, so I think it’s normal that I want to be in such company.

20. Companionable silence. I love that I have friends that I can hang out with and the silences are not awkward. We don’t have to be in conversation 100% of the time, and I love people who get that.

21. Solitude. I enjoy my own company a lot. I loveeee being alone and it breaks my heart when people think it’s a problem with them. Well, some yes but for the most part, there’s nothing wrong with you darling. I just love my own bubble, and I love my mind so I really like to sit with it.

22. Sleep. I love a good nap. I prefer to sleep during the day most of the time, but whatever. I take that “everything will feel better when you wake up” advice very seriously, and it does 92% of the time.

23. Jesus. He is the reason I’m here, the reason I’ve come this far. What a friend I’ve found in Jesus, and what a hope I have in my saviour’s love. Jesus means everything to me. I’m grateful that in this world where very little is sure, I have the surest foundation. Even if someday I wake up and I don’t have any of the 22 things I mentioned above, I will always have Jesus, and that’s enough for me.

I celebrated my last birthday as a medical student last year but right now, I'm not technically a doctor on paper yet, so let's just say I'm a medical student in transit.

Happy 23rd birthday Cassia. Look how far you've come! Look how far God is going to take you. Here's to another year of dancing on the waves.

Thank you for reading this to this point, and thank you in advance for all your birthday wishes.

See you same time next year for my Bryant year (I will make it a thing😂).

With so much love,

Birthday girl.

But a little disclaimer before we begin, this is absolutely not medical advice. I am a medical professional and a writer, those are very separate entities but today, those two would finally overlap in a little way. Aww, not my worlds colliding. But still, this is in no way medical advice. Besides, why would anyone even take medical advice from Substack when there are these establishments called hospitals?

Moving on.

Dysmenorrhea means painful menstruation, and it could be primary (it just happens because of the period, you know... prostaglandins or whatever) or secondary (due to an underlying cause e.g. endometriosis, fibroids).

The first time I encountered this word in primary school, it baffled me because I thought pain was a staple during periods, but I definitely thought wrong. For dys to be in front, it definitely means something's not right.

I didn't want to get personal writing this, and that's probably why I stalled for so long. But this is not an O&G textbook entry, I'm a woman—there's no doing this without getting personal.

Along with a million and one other women, I absolutely hate periods. I hate them so much. I don't think hate is even a strong enough word. Loathe, abhor, detest… all join!

I wish there were some other way to get the mission accomplished. Going through that every month seems a little excessive, please. I've always hated menstruation because I have never really had it easy.

A lady tweeted that period symptoms are new every month and that is tooooooooo real. My God! You have to deal with so many other things in addition to pain. Back/waist pain, diarrhea, nausea, vomiting(sometimes bilious), headaches, dizziness, irritability, skin problems—so much!

Some women don't feel any pain or any symptoms during their periods, and may God rescue them from my jealousy mehn.

I can count like five times when I was in so much physical pain I thought I was going to die, and it was cramps 4 out of 5 times. Horrible stuff.

Some months are definitely easier than others, and in those months I get so excited because people say cramps get better as you get older, and then the next month; sikeeee! Back to square 0. I hope it's true that they get better, I really hope so.

I've contemplated the fact that I may have endometriosis or something else so much that I should probably get checked, but I haven't because dysmenorrhea is so far my only issue. Ugh, it sucks so much.

Anywho, I'm not here for a pity party because that will do absolutely nothing for me.

I can tell you the many weird things I've heard from people—men and women alike—concerning painful periods. Because it's biology, every Tom, Dick and Harry seems to have strong opinions.

"Exercise when you feel the pain. Lying down makes it worse."

It is probably good advice but hah! Exercise when it feels like my intestines are being repeatedly twisted with a pitchfork? I promise you that the last thing on my mind in those moments is jumping-jacks or press-ups.

"You take too much sugar!"

Increased sugar intake may worsen cramps but that isn't everybody's reality.

"Nobody has ever died of cramps."

How do you know that? And even if it's true, should I be the first? Why is this even something to be said?

"Why are you using painkillers? You're a woman. You should bear the pain."

This is the one that drives me mad! If anybody had the kind of pain some women go through during their periods anywhere else in their body, they would be rushed to the hospital. So why do I have to "bear" a pain that is obviously affecting my quality of life and function in the moment? There's a reason painkillers were produced, no?

Of course, those things have to be used with caution because of the side effects, but making someone feel weak for taking them is so low. Stop it! If you don't have a solution, it's best to be quiet. Don't even sympathise, tchew.

I've heard all the cutesy advice. The hot water bottles, heating pads, teas and the likes, but those choose when they want to work. Heck, even the painkillers don't work everytime. I've had friends who need to get the pain meds injected coz tablets/capsules don't work. I've heard stories of girls who have to be admitted during their periods. Let's be so for real please.

Every woman is different. Every woman's cycle is different. It is a big problem when you want to apply/generalise what you learnt in class, or from AI, or from your mummy to every woman. Talmabout, my mummy never had cramps and we never even knew when she was on her period because she would carry on as normal. Igwe is out of town, but I'm sure he will get around to delivering you and your mummy's award in person when he gets back.

It's very very unlikely that I would specialise in Obstetrics and Gynaecology but I will jump at any opportunity to research causes (especially primary) and treatments of this disease, because it's weird that women have been going through this for literally ever, and all we have so far are theories.
For the women who also go through this, I'm so sorry and I hope you keep doing what's worked for you as long as it is healthy or was recommended by a health professional.

Don't let anybody make you feel shame for taking those meds, just try not to overdose. If you work and you can't go in on your period, call in sick or whatever. Do what you need to do to get through those hard days. You have nothing to prove to anybody.

Eve and satan did us dirty sha, I can’t lie.
We will keep surviving as the Lord helps us.

This stuff is hard, very hard. And it's frustrating that severe pain is so normalised and overlooked because it's just cramps. Unfair.

Women deserve to be listened to and taken seriously, and not be told to endure in silence.

I guess this is just me airing my frustration with this publicly for the first time ever, hoping that it causes someone to be better.

Sidebar like mad: Please and please, it is high time we abolished the word menses. What even is that? Ew!

Thanks for coming to my whatever this was. I don’t even know what to tell you guys to comment. If you feel like sharing period horrors, you can do that ❤️.

Bye.

My phone was stolen last night, or very early minutes of this morning. I really don’t know when but I know I can’t believe I just wrote that.

I woke up few minutes after 12am and I couldn’t find my phone at the edge of the bed where I left it to charge. I thought it fell down or something, and so I checked everywhere with Tosin. It was nowhere, so she started calling my number and it was unreachable. Everywhere first blur for real. My phone is (or was) almost never unreachable.

Sometime during the frantic search, I looked up at my window and I saw that the sliding net was left open—wide open and my heart dropped.

“Jesus! Tosin, the window is open!”

I looked down at where the rest of my stuff used to be and that was when I noticed that the headphones Tosin got me barely two weeks ago were gone, and my laptop charger was gone. Thank God my laptop was still there. Thank You Jesus that my laptop is here with me.

We went behind to gauge the possibility of it being an actual robbery and not a prank as we both initially thought and there were no footprints, and the windows are really high. I’m 5’10 (6ft on a good day) and I could barely touch the window and so we didn’t think someone came through the back. So yeah, definitely prank still.

I didn’t want to raise alarm because this was 1am, after a gruelling three days of exams. People were sleeping. In retrospect, I wish I raised alarm sooner.

Tosin, Joanna and Lolade helped me reach out and a security man came a few minutes later. He took the victim history, apologised for the loss, said they’d investigate, encouraged me to not let it distract me from my exams… which is great advice in theory but in practice?

I was really skeptical about letting the authorities know because in these climes, somehow the victim always gets blamed. Thankfully, he didn’t do that.

When he left my room and was about to leave the hostel, two other girls who are 2 and 3 doors away also noticed that their phones were gone. Same MO; open window and all. Maybe I was still holding out hope that I’d get my stuff back, but when I heard this new development, I just knew that my phone and headphones were gone. Like gone gone.

I was so confused, too confused. There was an actual robber that gained access to our hostel area while we were asleep? There was an actual robber that came very close to my head when I was asleep, disconnected my phone from the charger, took the phone, saw headphones and was like ‘cool’, picked my laptop charger and moved on to rob others?

I don’t think the others happened immediately. I’m so sure that when Tosin and I went behind to check, this person was still very much around and could see us, because I sent a message to our hostel group chat after we checked to see if anyone had information on my belongings, and one of the girls whose phone was taken saw that message before sleeping. Less than an hour later, her phone was gone too.

That’s so scary. The thought still gives me chills. Thinking of all the ways we could’ve been hurt right now, and, omo! Thank God that the story is not different. Thank You God that the story isn’t different.

The hostel was chaotic for a few hours after that, and it just felt like I was in limbo, going back and forth through the motions. It still didn’t feel real, because I was just making light of the situation, smiling and thanking people who showed concern and offered condolences. I’m so grateful for my friends and classmates for having so much sympathy/empathy through this hard day. My friends prayed with me, came to check on me, sent messengers because I was rudely teleported back to stone age. It all made me feel very warm inside.

I tried to read but I just couldn’t focus on anything, so I watched The Office (the Pilot, Diversity Day). I watched the Basketball one much later and let the records show that it’s one of my favourite episodes in the entire show, but I digress massively.

I finally went back to sleep around 5 or 6am-ish, and I was awakened by like 7am, because the new security on duty wanted me to retell what happened. That was so annoying, but I get it I guess. Omo, thank God I didn’t have exam today sha.

When they finally left me alone, I did what I had been dreading since my phone disappeared. I called my parents. I really didn’t want to tell them not because I was scared that they would blame me, or make me feel terrible. I know my parents better than that.

I didn’t want to tell them because I hate that this felt like plus one reason for them to second-guess the safety of their child.

I called my mum, and for the first time since the whole thing happened, my eyes welled up. I really hated telling her that. She was really worried, but I made myself sound chill about the situation, then we started taking all the My phone was stolen 101 steps for damage control.

I called my dad a couple hours later because I learned he was in transit. He was also so confused, but his immediate response was telling me not to worry because, “I will buy another one for you.” My eyes pooled then, and they’re swimming as I write this.

Of course, I knew before I called him that he’d get me another phone because I mean, he’s my daddy. I know my parents will move mountains and traverse valleys for my comfort because I’ve seen them do it time and time again. But hearing him say it mehn! I currently don't have words for how I felt in that moment—for how I feel right now.

I’m so grateful for my parents. I’m so grateful for my family. They’re number one reason I’m grateful the story isn’t worse, because those guys deserve goodnews everyday. Gosh, now I’m full on weeping. Darling, it’s okay. This damn journal bro, always bringing stuff out of me.

I got encouragement and care from every corner that day. My girls came to check on me after their test. I felt so shy because I hate attention, especially this kind. But I appreciate how kind a lot of people have been about this. My community> > >

Anywho, there’s no good time to have your phone stolen but in the middle of your final MBBS exams is definitely diabolical timing. Crazy work ngl.

I know God is with me, and I know He will help me just like He’s started doing. I was doing a video log of my entire experience on Snapchat, but yeah. Bye to that. All is well.

Though we pass through tribulations, all will be well.

AJ, all—all is well.

Today, I was reminded that my life does not consist of the material things I have. I was also reminded heavily, that there is love at home! There is love at home! There is love at home!

Thank You God. Thank You.

Currently phoneless babe,

Cassia (+my signature).

Yes, I sign after every journal entry. It's very serious business.

So, this is the first ever journal entry I’m sharing. Feels weird letting y’all read my crazy.

This was such a day, you guys. Typing this was a bit healing. I just had to keep a lid on my mind to keep from spiralling so I could get through my exams.

With everything I had going on, this was definitely the dogonyaro derived icing on the locust beans flavoured cake.

I heard “Sorry about what happened” so much, it started to get annoying but now I appreciate the people that cared. And I understand why the sorrys were a lot, because my phone 😭. I really miss my phone. I really miss my dawg. But win some, lose some I guess. Don’t know what I won yet, but whatevs.

The headphones? That’s still a sore spot. If I catch that thief!!! So wicked.

On the faintly bright side, my laptop charger was recovered behind the fence later that morning, and thank God it was still working.

How I see God’s kindness and mercy in all of this

1. Basically all of my academic stuff is on my laptop, thankfully it wasn't taken.

2. I make physical notes for almost everything school related, and I rarely ever read on my phone so the exam concerns I had were all information related, as in groupchats and all.

3. A very kind friend gave me her second phone to use pending when I got a replacement. Meant the world to me.

4. My laptop was right there with the headphones. It’s just God’s mercy that it wasn’t taken.

5. I’m alive. I wasn’t hurt. Nobody was hurt. Yes, I’m much more paranoid and I have palpitations with every sound I hear outside my window but that just shows that my nervous system is functioning. God will help me through it.

I’d like to add that this is how I feel a week later, definitely didn't feel like this in the moment. I still get very sad about it, but I was able to find a few silver linings with the help of God.

I’ve said a lot. In summary, buy chain and padlock for your phones kids.

Bye.

Thank you for being here.

Nothing worked. Her heart had stopped.

Now there's a reason this one felt different for me, maybe because I'll soon be the one who has to tell someone that their loved one isn't here anymore, and that scared me to my wits.

I am a very empathetic person. As a child and teenager, I used to cry when other people cried. The pain of others had the ability to wrap tight around me like a cloak, almost choking me. I remember one time we went to condone with a friend of mine who lost her mum and I was crying so much. On our way back, my dad teased me for crying more than the person who was bereaved. I've always felt pain so deeply, and that feeling almost always translated to tears.

Years ago, I tasted grief firsthand. I realized my helplessness even though I cried so many tears.

Months after that, I started to notice a shift. I didn't cry as much anymore. Pain didn't seem to affect me as deeply. It felt like I began to sympathize more than empathize, and it bothered me for a while, because I didn't think it was healthy. I was just always trying to move on, and put myself together and crying started to seem counterproductive. I watched it happen to me in real time and thought, "well boom! There goes my outlet".

The first time I saw a patient pass, I was in 400 level. It was still during ward rounds. We had already seen the patient, documented, and all that shebang, but shortly after, his heart started to arrest. I watched my consultant resuscitate him, and it worked for about 5 minutes, then he was gone. It was really scary because that was the first time I was so close to the reality of how rapidly death occurs. Here one second, and the next you're just not. It's crazy.

But what happened after that? We moved to the next patient. It was wild to me, because hello? Someone just died. The centre of someone's universe just left them alone here. Why are we going on like nothing happened?

Don't get me wrong, my consultant was very kind to the family members present. He offered his condolences and all. But we still continued the rounds. I was a new clinical student, so I was stunned. It felt insensitive. The body hadn't even been taken out of the ward but we still continued.

I will never forget what my consultant said to us at the end of that ward rounds.

"You do your best for all patients under your care. Unfortunately some will die, and there's no time for you to get yourself together. When your patient dies, you still have to show up for the ones waiting to receive your best."

After hearing that, I grappled with my career choice.

Do I still want this job?

This thing we're doing, is it healthy?

I still ask myself these questions to this day.

A part of me felt and still feels like I'm losing my humanity, becoming a robot— especially in the way I handle pain. It's hard… incredibly hard.

In my experience so far, I've learnt to give doctors grace, and I think it's important everyone learns that. Sometimes I read and I hear conversations and it feels like we expect doctors to be superhuman, because hey... "That's what you signed up for". I for one can tell you that when I was filling my jamb form, I wasn't like "Yay, I'll get see people die everyday". That's absurd to think. That may be the reality, but no one wants that. Be more empathetic to your doctors. That's all I'm able to say for now.

It's been a hard day.

I started writing this weeks ago but I couldn't bring myself to finish it. It still isn't finished to me but whatever.

Thank you for reading.

The reason for Ecclesia

Saying to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be a house of prayer’, but you have made it a robbers’ den.”

Luke 19:46 AMP

This isn’t just a song recommendation. The song inspired this entire piece and I really hope you listen as you read.

Ecclesia means an assembly or gathering of people. It is the Greek word for church. Google defines church as a building used for Christian worship services and activities, but almost every Christian knows—or should know— that it goes beyond that. Church is more literally the people gathering, than just the building. If the world suddenly had no single church building anywhere, there would still be a church of God, amen?

Your presence is not for sale

Your Word is not merchandise

What an opening line. This song immediately hits with conviction.

I’d like to believe that we’ve all seen Druski’s skit; the one about mega church pastors that was released earlier this month. In case you haven’t, here’s a link to it.

I laughed so much at the whole debacle online. That video garnered such a wide range of responses. The comments, reposts, reactionary skits and the response of some pastors- I’ve seen most of them, and I laughed a lot. However, I was a little sad seeing how the church was being ridiculed publicly because of the actions of quite a number of people who pose as Shepherds but are indeed lions and bears. A few days after I watched that video, I listened to this song again, and it made everything clear to me. I was affected in such immense ways and I knew that I had to process it like this, eventually.

We’re not here to make a profit

We’re not here to rob what’s yours

Mega-churchism didn’t start today. We see Jesus go ballistic in the temple because His house of prayer was becoming a den of robbers before His very eyes. I can’t even imagine what He feels like doing when He looks at us, the church today. Dear Lord!

The modern day commercialisation of the Gospel and the church is something I think about often. The Word of God is not, has never been and will never be merchandise and it breaks my heart when it is actively or more so passively presented that way.

Robbing what is God’s is not only monetary. How many times have we been guilty of stealing God’s glory to massage our egos? As pastors, teachers, as worship leaders, as instrumentalists and as ministers in whatever capacity?

We’re not here to build a brand

Or platforms that serve ourselves

May God help us. Deliver us from using His house for personal branding and strategic marketing. Some of these things we find ourselves doing seem harmless, but they distort how we view fellowship with God and with His people.

We’re not here to trade our worship

For ways You can bless our lives

I don’t know about you, but this is something I’ve been convicted of a lot of times. Many times, we fall into the temptation of treating our relationship with the Lord like a business transaction. It’s mostly not a conscious decision but if you’re honest, you know it is a real thing.

Your relationship with God is not transactional. That is why there’s a huge problem with the “Come to Jesus and you will get ———” message. Anything other than salvation in that dash is a lie. You cannot use miracles to convince people to come to church. Yes, God still does miracles but if that is all the motivation for you, what happens when He decides not to? When He chooses in His sovereignty to keep the thorn in your flesh because His grace is sufficient for you?

Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and you will be saved, full stop. That is it: the whole gift and it is enough, more than enough.

When we go through some trials as Christians, satan tempts us to say the wildest things to God.

“But Lord, I go to church every Sunday”

“But Lord, I’ve served you faithfully in this unit for years, I can’t be unmarried at 30”

“Lord, I tithe from every income I get, I can’t be this broke”

I really really hope you can see the problem with this. This is not a give and take relationship, because He has already given us everything.

Your Spirit above our schedules

Our sermons, our sets, our views

We won’t stand between Your people

And how You might choose to move

I was in a service pre-prayer one Sunday and I heard someone pray, “Lord, we are here for You, and we are open to however You would lead us, even if it means disrupting our order of service.” I was a lot younger then, so I was confused. The fact that I still remember that line after all this time is really crazy to me. Disrupt order of which service? A schedule was made for a reason, right? Maybe.

But we always need to be sure that the Holy Spirit guides our scheduling, our sermons and our worship ‘sets’, because we would be more open to change then whenever He decides to move differently.

Can God mess with your agenda and things would still go well? The answer is a resounding yes, because there is nothing like your agenda when it comes to His worship and His people. Dear believer, do not stand between God and His people. Don’t clutch your precious sermon notes so tightly to your chest, because God can demand something entirely different from you. And remember, you are His servant, not vice versa.

We’re turning the tables over

There’s only room for the Lord’s

I love this allegory so much. The table turning Jesus did in the temple, and the Lord’s table- the communion.

“This do, in remembrance of Me”

In Your House, we take of the bread

In Your House, we drink of the wine

In our House, we honour You Jesus above it all

Everything, every single thing done in a worship service should point to Jesus. Who/what else are we there for? Whether there is tangible bread (body) and wine (blood) or not, we should remember Him. We consider the One who bore such hostility for us, and we honour Him above everything.

Only the Church the Lord is building can withstand the gates of hell.

In Your House, we share what we own

In Your House, the orphans find home

In Your House, the widows in need are provided for

I recently saw a lady on Tiktok share a story of an experience she had in a church while she was an international student in Ghana. She said was looking for community in her new environment, she got connected to this church that was “big on giving”. She said she really liked it at first and she was given leadership positions a couple of months after she joined. It started becoming a burden when the work began demanding a lot of her time (she said she was in church every day of the week—as a student) and her money. According to her, there was a lot of emotional blackmail and gaslighting involved. The church was doing a big project at the time, and they were asked to donate. Her pastor asked how much she was going to contribute and when she told him, he scoffed and said the amount was too small for his God. She was really sad because that was all she had. Being young and naïve, she sought ways to up her donation and ended up selling her laptop, giving the money to the church, and lying to her mom that the laptop was stolen because she needed another one for her studies.

As I listened to her and read the comments, I got so upset because apparently, this is a lot of people’s experience. I don’t even know what to say other than the church absolutely should not be ripping off the people it should be taking care of. It shouldn’t be happening. She wasn’t an orphan, but she was in a strange land. That church should have been home for her, instead it made her a liar and a cheat. I’m glad she eventually got the courage to leave, but there’s no telling what that experience did to her faith.

In Your House, we move in Your gifts

Where better to utilise and grow the gifts God has given you, than in His presence, and for the edification of His Church. We move in His gifts and walk in the fruit of the Spirit.

In Your House, the bound are set free

In Your house, the enemy flees

In Your House, we witness a gospel worth dying for

This particular line hit me square in my mind. Our faith walks are direct products of the gospel we heard, and consequently, the one we witness. Since we know that there is only one Gospel, it is a wonder how much falsehood is being witnessed in our world today by people who claim to be believers.

If you truly heard and responded to THE Gospel, you would be more than willing to die for it. Just look at Jesus’ disciples and how they jumped at the opportunity to die for what they believed. Consider the early church and how many of them were killed for the Gospel. If that’s too far to think about, look at how many Northern Nigerian Christians are killed year in, year out for this Gospel. It absolutely should not be happening, but when faced with a choice, these ones always stood for this good news they received.

They witnessed a gospel worth dying for.

You and I may never need to physically die for this gospel, but how about the daily dying? The moment-by-moment mortification of the flesh? Oh, that we may be witnesses of this Gospel that is worth living and dying for!

I will bring them to my holy mountain of Jerusalem and will fill them with joy in my house of prayer. I will accept their burnt offerings and sacrifices, because my Temple will be called a house of prayer for all nations.

Isaiah 56:7 NLT

Dear Jesus,

Forgive us for the ways we’ve participated in turning your house of prayer into a den of thieves. Deliver us from being lukewarm like the Laodecian church. Like the church in Ephesus, we realise that we have left our first love. Lord please deliver us from tolerating false teaching like the church in Pergamum. We need You to help us to heed to the warning You gave to the church in Sardis to remember what we have received and heard and to hold it tightly and change our hearts. Help us to be people of prayer, that Your house will be a house of prayer.

In Your House, let Your kingdom come

In Your House, let Your will be done

In Your House, we give all the glory to You alone

And Your church says, AMEN.

This was a wonder to write. Three hours of adrenaline rush after two weeks of mental drafting. I highly recommend creating with God, it is the best.

Huge shout out to Mitch Wong. This is the second Carta of mine that is inspired by his music. Grateful for songwriters like him.

This was quite a long read, I'm really glad you read it and I pray it was worth your time. As you go to church tomorrow, be determined to remember and remind others that His house is a house of prayer.

Thank you for always 🫶🏽.

This human right isn't the only one women have had to fight for, but I don't want to go on a soapbox. Today, we're analyzing choice, the tenets of choice.

In many parts of the world, some women still do not have freedom of choice, especially pertaining to things that affect them directly and it breaks my heart, honestly. I wish there was more we could do about it, because it seems the online activism isn't working as fast as we expect it to.

I knew I was going to write this someday, but what lit a fire under me was this tweet I saw (and made a Whatsapp post about) a few days before 2025 ended.

The bigger star spoken of here is Simi, the Duduke crooner (amongst many others… she's a talented queen for sure. She recently started writing on here and wow!).

Concerning this particular issue, I understand the—hmm... Should I say sentiment? Well, I understand the whatever behind it, but I really hate this narrative a lot because it boo-boos on the right of a woman to make her own choice.

The reason I understand is because culturally, when a woman gets married, her professional life is expected to take the back seat due to family responsibilities and child bearing/rearing. Fact. It can be infuriating a lot of times because this is not the case for the male folk. Also fact.

But this premise is pushed a lot, and I get so annoyed by it, because it gives a perspective that these women are helpless to make their own decisions. A big superstar(A) can get married and decide to leave the limelight and be a superstar somewhere else— her home. We love her, we support her. Another big superstar (B) can get married and choose to juggle being a superstar to her fans, and in her home. We love her, we support her.

Superstar A can decide 5 years down the line to return to the spotlight because she misses it. We still love her and support her. She has the right to make her own choices, and—hear me—the right to change her mind. Same goes for superstar B, and for every single woman.

This has crystallized my realization that some women tend to only support other women’s choices when said choices agree with their own terms.

For instance; Cee “hates” men. She sees Dee’s post about never getting married because men are infuriating. She likes the post, leaves a comment “Girllll! Tell me about it. Ew!” and even follows Dee because it seems she’s a girl's girl, she's found an online bestie. Their views align. A few months later, Dee gets engaged and posts a few hard launch pics. Tee feels betrayed, she leaves another seemingly lighthearted comment, “I thought we all hated men?” It feels like another sister has fallen into the hands of the wicked species. It's apparently harder for her to be a girl's girl now. Why am I having too much fun with this?

Moving on from this instance please😂. The whole point of it is, if you claim to support autonomy, you should do it all the way.

Why do some people get so mad when other people's decisions especially career-wise, favour healthy marriages and families? I think there's an underlying issue and it has nothing to do with careers; it is an overall hatred of, and attack on the institution of marriage and it has been the devil's propaganda from time immemorial. Like, it's not even just women, they also say stuff like this about men, just not as much. I can't remember the particular celebrity but I saw a post on Twitter saying the guy “fell off” after he got married, and I'm just like, hello? I was too confused because his career seemed okay to me, pre and post nuptials.

It's never, “Up love o! She got married and nothing else mattered to her but her family.” It's always presented in a way that suggests that a person's potential is not being utilized because they got married or had kids.

You really don’t have to agree with everyone’s decisions or choices. Allow them to do whatever floats their boat, and then you do exactly what floats yours. It’s really that simple.

Stop policing the choices of other people because that’s not your job. You should be busy making your own life changing choices, so that maybe when people see you, they can change their minds and be like you instead, no?

We need to come together as a people and resolve to stop projecting our personal issues or trauma on others. Maybe you decided to choose family over career and you were scathed, that's very sad and I'm really sorry, but it doesn't mean someone else won't be really happy with and find maximum fulfillment in their choice.

In conclusion, it is your fundamental human right to be able to make a choice by yourself, for yourself. Nobody can take it from you, except you let them. You are also free to change your mind. So nobody should hold you at hypothetical gunpoint because of a choice you made that you no longer stand by.

Do you—under God— and everybody else will get with the program or not, but that's not your problem, it's theirs.

Wow! Happy New Year guys. Glad you're here, still. I'm excited to write more stuff this year. Amen.

I decided not to impose writers’ block on myself this year, like I did last year so, yay me! This piece has been stewing in my mind for months now and I finally made rice to go with it. Anyways, it would be fun to read your thoughts on this, so please share if you're feeling generous.

Thank you for reading. Ciao!

I appreciate these compliments a lot, because I haven’t always thought about myself as someone who communicates well. I still don’t believe it sometimes, but I guess hearing people affirm it somehow made me walk in it more consciously.

I used to read news in primary school and almost every week in secondary school ( a professional yapper). Most of my teachers wondered how I waltzed into the Sciences because they saw me as a potential journalist. Maybe I should’ve listened to them and explored that, then I wouldn’t be complaining about medical school at every given opportunity.

Anyway, I’m saying all this to say that I was apparently a good public communicator. I began to see it like a job, so I got better and better at it. At communicating my thoughts about surface level stuff in very clear and understandable words publicly.

I wish I did the same privately... In my personal relationships. I was never one to speak up when I was hurt because it felt like my words were not fashioned for that. I would just hide somewhere and cry, and “let it go”. It never really worked because resentment always festered. I don’t really like to use all these labels and stuff but at my core, I used to be an avoider. Even when there wasn't really conflict, I just seemed to have such a problem saying exactly how I felt concerning deep emotional things. Whenever the conversation veered away from surface level stuff, it felt like my emotional boundaries were being invaded and I would lose my words.

I never thought this was a problem until people I love started to point it out. I remember one time when my mom said to me, “How would I know how you feel if you don’t say anything?” Some of my friends said the same thing in different ways, and then I started to notice a pattern. I was always so hurt and feeling so alone, because I was absorbing everyone else’s feelings and pushing mine down because when I was asked how I felt, I would always pick the lazy answer—I don’t know. I thought it was true at the time, but I just didn’t want to do the work required to convert those feelings to words.

After noticing this pattern, I tried to change and the first step was eliminating ‘I don’t know’ from my feelings vocabulary. I intentionally tried to stop saying it. If I didn’t want to tell someone how I felt, I would use ‘I can’t say’ instead because ‘I don’t know’ had proven to be a lie.

If you value your relationships, you would want to communicate better. How I gauge relationships that I don't really take seriously is my reluctance to do the work to just talk things out.

You can’t tell person A that you don’t know how you feel, and go ahead to tell person B exactly how you feel, and that’s what I used to do a lot in the guise of venting to my safe spaces. There'll be a tendency for person B to gain my enemy, and that's not really fair.

Granted, not everyone deserves to hear how you feel, because some people genuinely don’t care but honesty is very important in communication, which is also key. ‘I don’t want to tell you’, ‘I can’t say’ or even ‘I can’t put it to words right now’ would always suffice.

This has helped me communicate better with myself and the people around me. I’m an adult, and I can no longer use silent treatment or other ineffective methods to communicate when I can just use words. Nobody is going to beat me (in Jesus name).

I’ve seen terrible communication patterns ruin a lot of relationships and as much as it's in my power, I don’t want that for myself anymore.

I love this quote from Francine Rivers’ The Scarlet Thread. Learn to have intelligent adult conversations guys. I posted this on Whatsapp a while ago, and I said the thing about conversations is that both parties need to be intelligent to have it. True! There are a lot of external factors that make or mar communication and you can’t control those.

The aim of this piece is to encourage you to focus on the internal factors you can control. The ones that have to do with you. Being an attentive listener, listening to understand and not just to respond, being respectful and using your words. You can control these ones, so yeah.

Thank you for reading. Would love to read your thoughts on this too.

Enjoy your day. 🫶🏽

There was before you

And there was during you

For some reason, I never thought there'd be an after you

But there it was

And I was in it

I'll be in it forever

Reminders of him

Colleen Hoover

I’ve never read this book, but I’m online enough to know this beautiful quote.

Before you

The quote doesn’t exactly describe our story because there was no before you. I don’t remember anything of the sort. It felt like I was born knowing you, like I was born to know you, like I had known you all my life. I believe it felt that way because it was true.

You were written into every chapter of my story. There was just always you— that’s what I remember.

During you

Bliss. No better word for it.

Now I was the one consciously writing you into every chapter, every page, every line, every word and every letter. You were the SI unit of my existence.

I wanted you to be involved, and for the most part, it felt like you wanted to be too and it felt nice. It always feels nice to give yourself to someone who’s willing to receive you.

I was in love, not necessarily romantically or in whatever way people think. There were no butterflies in my tummy and I didn’t feel any dramatic heart tugs. This was deeper than that. It was steady. It was soft. It was safe. I didn’t feel consumed, so it wasn’t scary at all.

Because of how safe I felt, I convinced myself that you would always be around, and that I would never have to grieve you. Naive, I know. I really wish I ruled out every possibility of this ending up in me being hurt, but how could I when I was just living in bliss?

During you, it was hard to define the relationship we had. I loved and I was loved— that was enough for me. I was okay with that. Everything was fine until it wasn’t.

After you

It wasn’t a clean break. It was not sudden. It was like cutting through a thick mud block with a blunt knife— slow, messy and painful.

Somehow, I knew it was happening but I was helpless to stop it. You obviously didn’t want me to stop it. With each passing day, you leisurely disappeared from the pages.

I finally realized that I had mostly written you in with my best pencil when you stealthily began to erase yourself. You didn’t want me to know because you knew I would have tried to stop it. I would have recalibrated you in the most permanent ink.

I eventually wound up with a deep cut that I couldn’t for the life of me remember how I got, but I knew it was you who put it there. All I could do was try to stop it from hemorrhaging. I didn't want to die.

I didn’t realize it was possible to grieve someone who is still living until after you. I’ve grieved you. I still grieve you. Oh, I hope I won’t always grieve you. I’ve tried to help myself, perform catharsis to release everything we had, everything I’ve held onto.

It hasn’t been very successful because I went back to that damning book, and I discovered something that was written in ink: I love you. It’s a mystery how that happened, but there it was in the middle of a page, written in deep black ink and in my favourite handwriting.

I’ve sought advice on how to get it off, so that I can move on in my new reality— the aftermath of this, but I was told that I can’t logistically get it out of there without ruining the page which is already so worn from soaking up my tears.

Well, I am learning to be okay with the fact that a little part of me will always love you. Isn’t it such an oxymoron that the human heart is able to hold joy and pain simultaneously? Love and grief? I've experienced it firsthand. I still think about you and smile even with the pain I feel, because there was during you.

Getting back our rhythm is possible, but it’s not a possibility I’m open to. Now that I’ve seen what after you can do and has done to me, it would be masochistic to subject myself to that again.

So, I love you, but I can no longer hold space for you.

Thank you for reading. This is a work of my imagination with little inspiration from real life events. Writing this was so much fun for me. I'd love to read your thoughts. Bye.

Revelation 12:11 FBV They conquered him through the blood of the Lamb and through their personal testimony—they did not love their lives, so much that they were willing to die if necessary.

I love hearing testimonies so much. It's very important to hear how God works in people's lives. It strengthens your faith, it also helps you to be more aware of the ways God works in your life as well.

Earlier in my faith journey, I found myself questioning and second guessing the worth of my own testimony— the most important one that is; how I met Jesus, or more accurately how He met me.

This is because I had heard and read the accounts of others, how Jesus saved them from gross darkness and sin. We've all heard testimonies like that; I was a prostitute. I was a persecutor of the saints. I was a dishonest tax collector. Then Jesus came to these ones, and their lives changed drastically.

This was my issue—I didn't feel like my own transformation was drastic enough. It was not giving black then white, more like gray to white.

I am a church kid through and through. I literally grew up in and around church. I think I prayed the "sinners' prayer" as soon as my brain could understand what my mouth was saying and a whole lot of other times after that, because there was a huge gap in my knowledge. My heart hadn't caught up yet.

When I finally made a conscious and informed decision to trust the work of Jesus forever, I didn't feel like my transformation was radical enough and I felt like it wouldn't help anybody.

Not to toot my own horn, but on moral grounds, I was a good kid. I didn't steal or fight or do any of the things I heard other adults complain about kids doing. Maybe a few lies, here and there, but that was it, really. Now that I know better, that sounds so weird to say.

I believe by now, you've garnered my reason for invalidating my own testimony. In my then opinion, nobody wants to hear about the good girl that now knows Jesus because what really changed?

Now I feel sad for Cassia the new believer, and I wish she knew better.

This is my understanding of salvation:

Because of my relation to Adam, I was born in sin. Even though I was born to Christian parents and into a Christian family, I was still a sinner. I was raised with good morals, and I thought that was good enough. I thought I was good enough— at least I wasn't stealing meat or lying pathologically... I was basically a good kid, but I was still a sinner. My soul was still lost.

I needed a saviour because sin was embedded in my DNA. It was my nature. Woven into the fabric of my being without my consent, but I had become a willing participant, justifying white lies and what not.

After praying the “sinners' prayer” multiple times, it felt like nothing was changing for good. I didn't understand why the change would never last long, but I think I do now. It is because I was responding to a fear of hell rather than the deep, immense love and infinite mercy of God.

But, then Jesus came to the world. Jesus came to me. He took my sin nature to the cross and crucified it there. I finally understood it all. And I believed—I still believe.

I believe that Jesus' sacrifice covers me. I believe that I am free. I believe that it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me, and the life I now live, I live by trusting in the Son of God who loved me and gave Himself for me (Galatians 2:20). This is the grace of God.

Now I share my testimony with reckless abandon, and with so much joy because I understand that it was never about what I had to bring, never about who I was, but about Jesus and who He has made me. What I now am in Him. That's the core of every testimony. The focal point of every account of salvation. Jesus!

I was—then Jesus—I am.

It is a miracle. It is mind-blowing. It doesn't need pzazz. Murderer or liar, sin is sin and that's what Jesus saved me from, that's what He saved you from. That's what He can save you from.

The point of all of this is, your testimony is too valid to be hidden. More people need to hear it. In the Bible, we have four accounts of the Gospel but we don't have four different “Gospels”. The Gospel is one and all four accounts are very necessary.

• Matthew's attention to detail and historical view.

• John Mark’s interpretation of Peter’s stories, told with more urgency.

• Dr Luke’s wonderful prose writing of social context and warp of women into Jesus’ ministry.

• John’s relation to Genesis, giving an understanding of the foundation of Gospel. Remarkable detail too.

All the same Word, but different in important ways.

It’s understandable how we think that seemingly drastic testimonies matter more because humans have a flair for the dramatic, but someone is waiting for your account of the Gospel, dramatic or not. Your audience awaits.

Be like that blind dude Jesus healed in John 9 that was so audacious about his testimony; the one Jesus gave a facial and told to go and wash in the pool of Siloam.

Remember that when people saw him, they asked, "Weren't you the one who used to sit and beg?"

He replied, "One and the same."

"What happened? Who healed you?"

"The man they call Jesus..." He replied with a broad grin and twinkling eyes, eyes that could see for the first time ever.

"Where is he now?" They asked.

These people just wanted to burst this poor guy's bubble. He didn't know Jesus whereabouts, but he was forthcoming with what he knew.

“Jesus healed me.” End of story. Or so he thought.

They ended up taking him to the Pharisees who tried to gaslight him. They said Jesus was a sinner. They brought his parents in too. So much effort to prove the guy wrong. There would be people around you who will try to oppose your testimony by any means. You should be prepared for that, and ready to defend your truth with your very life (Revelation 12:11).

Blind dude's response to the Pharisees is one of my favorite verses in the Bible.

Go offfff former blind guyyyy! But I know this! Clock it, sir. Some translations say “one thing I do know.” Others say “all I know is.”

I may not know a lot, but this much I do. I don't know everything, but I know something, and I must say what I know. That is a testimony. That is proclamation of the truth.

John 9:26-27 NLT

[26] “But what did he do?” they asked. “How did he heal you?”

[27] “Look!” the man exclaimed. “I told you once. Didn’t you listen? Why do you want to hear it again? Do you want to become his disciples, too?”

He was standing on business and rightfully so. If I was blind and could suddenly see, I wouldn’t shut up about it either no matter what anybody said. He went on to preach to the Pharisees.

Reminds me of what Peter and John said to the Sanhedrin, “We cannot keep quiet about what we have seen and heard” (Acts 4:20 CEV). Once you've experienced Jesus, keeping quiet about Him becomes impossible— Ask the Shepherds and the wise men from the East. Ask the woman at the well. Ask Peter. Ask Paul nee Saul. The Word becomes like fire shot up in your bones.

I love this John 9 story so much and I had to share it.

So this is my testimony:

I was blind, but now I see!

By this testimony, I overcome.

Thank you for reading. In case you're wondering, marturia means to testify… to bear witness. I daresay go and do likewise. Bear witness to Jesus. Tell somebody!

God bless you always.

I’ve known Tosin for more than half of my life, and we’ve been friends for half the time I’ve known her. Everyone who knows this babe knows she’s a good person, incredibly kind... To a fault. Sometimes her kindness makes me want to smack her because she rarely ever puts herself first. She's one of the most selfless people I know.

One of the many things I do love about her is that despite how kind she is, you really cannot take advantage of her. I admire that.

I’ve lived in very close proximity to this girl for six years because she decided to follow me from secondary school to this university and she even copied my course 😂. For someone who wanted to study Agriculture, Medicine was quite the pivot. Cue that scene in Friends where Ross yells “pivot" like six times. Forever glad she made that pivot.

Tosin makes my life so much easier and it is evident to everyone who knows me. She’s that friend that I can turn my brain off around because she consciously or subconsciously handles the little details of my life.

For instance: We mostly have to buy water in my school for whatever reason, and I don’t even have our water vendor's number because Tosin calls him and always makes sure we have water. When we’re not buying water, she fetches our water. I have issues with my back, so this means a lot to me... more than she’ll ever know. Sometimes I feel bad and try to help her but she won’t allow it. “Don’t come and tell me your back is paining you o. Please go and sit down” every single time, but because I’m stubborn, I still do it sometimes. She can't beat me .

Most days I feel like gathering a mob to help me thank her because she takes huge burdens off of me. I’m engaged in a number of things, and the reason I’m able to show up for my extracurricular responsibilities, in whatever capacities I do is her.

She's also very obsessed with me. Whenever I have to leave the room, I'll explicitly tell her where I'm going, but if I'm out for more than two hours, she'll call or text... "Hope you're safe" "Are you alive?" "You'll not return?”. My monitoring spirit 😂. There's love at home like mad.

Tosin is so industrious mehn. The real investor, importer-exporter. Always looking for ways to grow her income. She has a new business idea every other day, it's so hard to keep up 😂. I just hope she hasn't thought of selling me yet. Her businesses always thrive because she's so committed to everything she does.

In a world where female friendships are made out to be very dramatic, I'm eternally grateful for the peace of mind that being friends with Tosin affords me. I genuinely cannot remember a time that we've had an issue that festered. I cannot remember any fight at all. I don't take this for granted at all, and I know it'll stay that way because we're both peaceful babes.

Tosin my friend,

I'm so grateful for you today and everyday, words don't even do justice. Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for being a friend… that word doesn't even seem to cut it anymore.

I know I'll always have you in my corner, and I hope you know that I'll forever be in yours.

One of these days, you'll graduate from booking our Valgee trips to booking our vacations to Greece, or that country you said you want to marry from 😂. I can't wait.

Please the same energy you used to follow me to Bingham, use it to follow me for housejob. You've made me codependent, so you must finish what you started 😂.

It's your last birthday in these trenches and I'm so happy. We don too try for this school bro. We've paid our dues frfr.

I hope that you receive the love you always give in more measures than you can contain. Whenever you need one person, a thousand will rise to help you. You deserve the world, Tosin.

Thank you for always my girl. I love you soooo muchhh.

Happy birthday Ojo Oluwatosin Faith ❤️, BHU/19… jkjkjk🤭.

Say happy birthday to Tosin everyone, or elseeeee💪🏾

I got a paper cut again

What do you have against my skin?

A paper cut occurs when a piece of paper slices through a person's skin, usually on the pulp of the index finger, but could be anywhere really.

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I don't know if you've gotten a paper cut before, but they are unexpectedly really painful and they bleed quite a bit for wounds that small.

You'll find yourself perplexed... Was this really just paper? You'll feel like such a wuss because why is a paper cut affecting you this much.

If you've read my publication for long enough, you have probably figured out by now that I'm a medical student. I have said it explicitly, a number of times. But that's not where this is going. I'm not about to go doctor on you about the pathology of paper cuts because I don't even know like that. I'm going to try to relate it to life experiences.

At this juncture, I'd cue the song that inspired this so that you can have the full vibe.

I've had some experiences in life that felt, and still feel like paper cuts. I'm sure almost everyone has.

People who were seemingly harmless ended up hurting you deeply. A childhood buddy, a roommate, a friend you made because you were trying to be less uptight, a classmate... It could be anybody, really.

It was unintentional for the most part, very much non-violent but deeply painful. Like a paper cut. It's generally difficult to explain the hurt to people because it feels baseless.

"What did he/she really do to you?"

"I can't really put my finger on it. I don't have language for it yet, but I know it hurts. I know I'm hurt.”

Not a very concrete response, so you settle for keeping it within. For nursing your little paper cut yourself. Nobody ever goes to the hospital for paper cuts, right? You don't want to seem like a drama queen. So you second guess yourself.

Maybe I'm too sensitive. Maybe they didn't mean it. Maybe I should have thicker skin. Maybe I shouldn't have held the paper like that.

You find yourself wishing the damage they did was a stab, or a gunshot. Maybe you even wish they ran you over with a truck three times, because then, there would be evidence. Then, you'd have a valid story. Then, you could actually seek help. But it’s not. It's just a little, almost invisible paper cut and now, here you are losing blood secretly.

How can you tell people that he cheated on you when you were never really in a relationship?

How can you say you were abused when he never even laid hands on you?

How can you say you felt very betrayed, when you realize what everyone had already known— that the friendship was all in your head for the entirety of it?

It's really hard to verbalize your pain in such situations.

I wish human paper cuts were as easy to recover from as actual ones. That's unfortunately not the case.

I'm really struggling to find how to end this because I don't have a solution to paper cuts. I don't have a pretty bow to throw piece on this to make it nice, cute and helpful and I'm realizing I don't have to do that. Things just hurt. That's the reality of life.

I'll just say this: don't feel the need to hide your pain from yourself too. You're scared that your feelings would be invalidated by other people, and that's genuinely fair. But don't invalidate yourself just because people can't see your wound, even when you try to show it to them.

You can see it. You feel it. It happened to you. You saw it happen to you. You're not too sensitive. You don't feel things too deeply, by the way there's nothing like that please! Too deeply as how? It's just a lie that people who don't feel enough are peddling (aura for aura).

You could ignore the pain until it goes away, that may work. Basically slap a band-aid on it. But it's such an unhealthy way to relate with yourself.

Recognize your pain. Process it and ask God to show you how to deal with it. Journaling helps me a lot with this. It gives language to the pain making it valid to me, so that if I even need to tell someone as part of my healing process, I'm not sharing it as a way to get validation. I'm telling them emphatically what the pain is, and the way it affected me.

You don't even have to share it with anybody really if you don't want to. You don't even have to keep the evidence. You can journal and discard it if you don't even want the memory… burn it, drown it. Whatever you want. You have the autonomy. You wield the power. You call the shots.

Paper cuts heal eventually. There's no cookie cutter timeline. Just keep hoping, that the cut won't always bleed (suck on that Conan Gray). Keep believing that the scar would one day be invisible.

Whew! This one was hard to write but it flowed so easily. held my hands, virtually while writing this so thank you my girl.

Thank you for reading. I'm honoured.

See you on the next one❤️.

When it feels like the dark

Lingers longer than the night

When the shadows feel like giants

Are You chasing me down?

Tell me where could I run

From Your light, where could I hide

Hemmed within Your precious thoughts

There's no hiding from Your love

Highs and lows

Lord, You're with me either way it goes

Should I rise or should I fall?

Even so

Lord, Your mercy is an even flow

You're too good to let me go

Should I dance on the heights

Or make my bed among the depths

Your mercy waits at every end

Like You planned it from the start

Should the dawn come with wings

Or find me far-side of the sea

There Your hand still fastens me

Ever closer to Your heart, oh

Highs and lows

Lord, You're with me either way it goes

Should I rise or should I fall?

Even so

Lord, Your mercy is an even flow

Should I rise or should I fall?

You are faithful through it all

You're too good to let me go

Highs and lows

You surround me either way it goes

Should I rise or should I fall?

Lord, You're with me through it all, oh

Highs and lows

In the rhythms of Your grace I know

Should I rise or should I fall?

You are faithful through it all

And You're too good to let me go

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Aodhan King / Ben Tan / Joel Houston

Whewwwww!

This is one of the very few songs in the world that I can remember the first time I heard.

The year was 2020, the month was September. My grandfather had gone to glory a couple of weeks prior and I was in the thick of navigating grief. In fact, by September I thought I was good, you know? That I had cried enough. I was so mistaken.

When my grandpa died, I found myself doubting and getting angry at God. So I made a playlist. I think the title of the playlist was “I'll still bless you”. It contained songs like Promises by Maverick City Music, Even when it hurts by Hillsong… I can't remember the rest. Highs and Lows wasn't on the playlist though, I hadn't listened to the song then.

One morning I was in the bathroom listening to music as I did what took me there, and this song just starts playing. As soon as I heard the first line, when it feels like the dark lingers longer than the night, instant tears! I cried for the entirety of the song and further because I put it on repeat. It was reaching areas of my mind that I tried to ignore, touching my pain in a way that nothing else had.

I don't know if Delight would remember that day, but I sent her a long gut wrenching message. I think she asked how I was holding up and I sent a whole carta, because for the first time since I got the news of my grandpa's passing, I could understand majority of all I'd been feeling.

In my life, songs are reminders of seasons. I categorize timelines in my life with music. Highs and Lows was my song of the season in the fall of 2020. I know Nigeria doesn't have fall but just let me have this, okay?

To this day, I love this song so much. I listen to it a lot, whether I'm in a high, in a low or in between. It reminds me that God is for me. His mercy stays. He isn't selective with His mercy… it is indeed an even flow. His faithfulness doesn't depend on my circumstances.

It's a reminder that I'm hemmed within God's thoughts. He's always thinking of me. He's not waiting for me to be happy before I can fellowship with Him. He is there either way it goes, high or low. God can handle my excitement and joy, but He can also handle my sorrow and pain, and everything in between.

Finally, the song literally says it. God is too good to let me go. Even when I blamed Him for what I was going through, He didn't let me go. He held me and loved me until I remembered the truth about Him that the devil tried to make me forget: He is to good to let me go.

Abbie Gamboa and Aodhan King recorded this version of this song and I'm obsessed.

This was a very spontaneous write, and I particularly love those.

Please share a song and a season in the comments if you're feeling up to it. Whether the season was a high or a low, please feel free. I want to discover new music from you guys😚❤️.

Thank you for reading guys.

Thank you also for 150 subscribers. I was stunned to see that number a few days ago. I owe you guys fiction to celebrate but I'm shy 😂. God bless every single one of you.

Have a lovely weekend!

A Japanese word that refers to sunlight that leaks or seeps through the leaves of trees.

This picture from Google should engage your imagination.

We've all seen something like this before. It is so stunning to behold. I was so excited to find out that there's an actual word for it. The Japanese come up with the best words, honestly. Kintsukuroi too is Japanese. Such a great language. Love it.

Trees on their own are so pretty, but when sunlight hits a tree, and the light refracts into beautiful little rays through the branches and leaves, it just becomes art.

This is what some people feel like in life. They come in and shine through the spaces we hold for them and give off the beauty that is komorebi.

This phenomenon doesn't happen with walls, it happens with trees. This is because trees are alive and have spaces. They literally need space to survive and thrive. The leaves and branches are not all jumbled and closed off to light. It's the reason why when it's too sunny, you go to a tree for shade because there's also air. If you hide behind a wall or underneath it (not really feasible, but allow. It's for the plot), sure there would be shade but there won't be air. You would most likely suffocate. But trees make it possible to get the best of three worlds: you get beautiful sun rays, you get good shade and you get great air.

Life is so much better when we hold space for the people and the things that bring light into our lives.

I was never the sharpest tool in the Physics shed in secondary school, but I remember a little bit of refraction stuff. How could I not? That big glass cuboid and the pins traumatized me.

Refraction is basically how light rays morph when they move from one surface to another.

When someone is light for you, you have the capacity to be light for someone else. The Lord is light (Psalm 27:1), and because we have experienced and still do experience Him, we are called, and are able to be the light of the world. The light of God refracts on us, and we can refract on others... And komorebi them 😉.

We all know that trees need sunlight for photosynthesis. So, the sunlight isn't just hitting the tree for aesthetics… it's very necessary. Isn't it amazing that something so beautiful can result from a survival process? You too can find pleasure and beauty even in doing the things you have to do to survive. The seemingly mundane things; eating, sleeping, cooking, exercise, etc. Some people call it romanticizing life.

A lot of people, myself included, say "I don't just want to survive, I want to thrive". I believe this is because our minds have built the opinion that thriving means living lavishly, living in abundance, and we all want that for ourselves. We consider the day-to-day ordinary stuff to be suffering and put off thriving until we have less responsibilities, more money... We save thriving for when we “arrive”.

But what if you're already thriving? You're alive, you're living, you're growing, you're in the fruit bearing process everyday even though you don't recognize it. You're already thriving. You're growing as you go.

Imagine how happier you'd be if you were more conscious of that. If you made the decision that you would bloom where you're planted and refuse to classify the process as mere survival, waiting for the product before you can finally say you thrived.

If only your eyes were trained enough to recognize the beauty in your life, the beauty that is your life. What a sight to behold.

Your life is a sum of little moments. If you spend it waiting for big ones, consider how much you'd miss out on.

So komorebi!!! Allow the enchanting interplay of light and leaves. Allow sunlight to filter through you. Hold space for the light.

You don't need permission, but in case that's what you've been waiting for, here's me giving it to you…Thrive!

I hope you loved reading this as much as I loved writing it. Thank you for reading. Thank you for subscribing, yes you! Thank you.

See you on the next carta. God bless you!

Church hurt is the worst kind of hurt. 
It's like getting stabbed in the back while the person holding the knife is looking directly into your eyes.

Natalie Runion

I saw this quote in an article I found when I was pooling resources to help me write this. I wanted to read or hear other people's thoughts and this struck a lot of chords. 

If you're a Christian, you should know what church hurt means - even if you haven't experienced it (Angel Gabriel is probably your general overseer), you must have heard a story or two.

If you're a Christian and you've been on social media long enough, I'm sure you've seen the quote, "Sorry if church people hurt you, but that was people, not Jesus." How profound, right?

Despite the fact that this is true, sometimes it annoys me when people say this because it feels like people just use it in a bid to absolve people of responsibility for their hurtful actions. We'll get back to this eventually... Walk with me.

I think church hurt is so painful and hard to walk through because it is almost always unexpected. You expect to get hurt everywhere else, but church should be different. Church is supposed to be a safe haven, because these people know and love Jesus just like you. When the one place where you really feel you belong becomes the source of your pain, it is heartbreaking. It's the disappointment leaves such a soreness. It can leave you mortally wounded.

Most times, the effect of church hurt on some believers is lethal. They leave church and eventually leave God too. And can you really blame them?

This is why it is very important to be grounded in your faith as a person, because if your faith has roots in your pastor or other church members, what happens if they begin to walk fully in their humanity, forgetting that the Holy Spirit should be in charge? They'll make a shipwreck of your faith.

You need to be able to distinguish people's bad character from God's character, and you can't do that if you don't know God's character.

What blurs the line in the church setting is that these people are ideally supposed to represent God. So when they misbehave, God becomes collateral damage so to speak. This is understandable, but it shouldn't be.

Let's be honest, not everyone in church actually knows and is submitted to God, so it's really unfair when we project people's failings onto God.

I was listening to a message some years ago about how some Christians claim to love God and hate the church, and the preacher said "Can you walk up to a man and say I love you so much but I hate your wife?" Cues dramatic pause "So you can't love Jesus and hate his bride." At the time, it seemed like a mic drop moment but after I thought about it for a while, I realized that I can actually tell someone I love them and hate their wife, if their wife is misbehaving. Plus who says I have to tell the husband sef? I've found myself telling God a lot of times that His bride is stressing me out, and He always reminds me that I, in fact, am also very much inside the bridehood. A whole wifey to Jesus. You are part of the church. The body of Christ.

It hurts so much when your fellow body part decides to cut you. But as believers, we need to find healthier ways to deal with church hurt.

Sometimes, the healthiest thing to do is to leave the church so that resentment and anger doesn't choke your faith. Other times, you have to call out the hurt, because it may have been unintentional. Other times, the church leadership needs to get involved to handle it properly (that's when they're not instigating the hurt).

But one way is certain! Every time, God calls us to forgive, to extend grace and to be merciful. We really need to be more gracious to one another in the body. We're quicker to forgive people (Christians or not) who hurt us elsewhere than people who hurt us in church... Understandable. We should actually be held to higher standards, but!

Don't forget that the people in church are just that; they're people. People who still possess the sin nature within them. People who aren't perfect but are being perfected. People that needed, are in need of, and would always need the saviour.

I don't think anybody has experienced church hurt the way Jesus did. People He came to save rejected Him because He didn't look like what they were expecting. Till today, people still reject Him, but we don't see Him writing the entire church off. Yes, you're not Jesus. Yes, you're only human. But isn't Jesus who you're trying to be like? Is He not the whole point of you even being a part of the church? Jesus was also human when He was physically and emotionally hurt by the people He loved.

Now, please please please... We need to advise ourselves as members of the church of God. Don't be the source of anybody's pain. There's so much animosity in the body of Christ today, it scares me. It shouldn't be happening. Don't be the reason why anybody swears off corporate fellowship, or worse, falls away from the faith.

The church is very vital to a believer's growth. Nobody should have to do without it. If you need to leave your current church for your spiritual health, ask God to direct you to another church. Don't continue in a toxic environment and toxic patterns to prove that you've forgiven someone or some people. You can forgive people and still give yourself space to heal. Whether that space would be temporary or permanent is up to you, but you should always be connected to a church that you can grow in.

I have experienced church hurt a few times in my life, and while I'm grateful that it hasn't kept me away from Jesus, I have to admit that I'm jaded now. The last experience had me telling my sisters that any church I find myself in, “I won't go and do pass myself. I'll just go and worship my God and go home. Nobody needs to know me and I don't need to know anybody”. But there's no way that works, because community is the whole point of church.

It's true that people you loved hurt you, but that doesn't mean you'd never love again.

Some people saw their parents go through so much at the hands of church members and decided that it would never be them. Generational church hurt is a whole thing, guys. It runs very deep, and it takes God's mercy to heal that kind of hurt.

Loving people is you giving them all the ammo they need to hurt you. Unfortunately, I don't know any way to avoid getting hurt by people. If you know, please do tell. I'm actually tired of having to heal every other day.

I've found that the only way not to let the painful actions or inactions of people in church push you off the ledge, is to be deeply rooted in God. Not your pastor, not your church members; but in the actual author and finisher of your faith. That way, when you experience hurt, you have where to go to find succour.

Submit yourself to be changed by God. Allow the word of Christ to dwell in you richly, so that you don't also become a conduit of church hurt.

So yes, I'm deeply sorry if church people hurt you, but that was them, not Jesus. However, we really need to start holding people accountable for their actions. It was them, not Jesus but they need to be aware that the fact that they are members of the church means that whether they like it or not, they are representing Jesus.

Imagine someone who is just trying to find their footing in their faith getting wounded by someone in church. He/she may leave church, leave God and never come back and it would be your fault. And Jesus had something to say about people like that;

Matthew 18:6 GNT

[6] “If anyone should cause one of these little ones to lose his faith in me, it would be better for that person to have a large millstone tied around his neck and be drowned in the deep sea.

So my dear brothers and sisters, if you don't want Jesus to tie grinding stone around your neck and fling you inside the Pacific ocean, you better represent Him well.

Be the reason why someone loves church, and believes that real community can be found in church. We are the hands and feet of Jesus here on earth, so be committed to showing how kind He is.

People will always be people, and God will always be God.

Thank you so much for reading this. I would love to hear your thoughts on this topic, maybe your experiences too if you're feeling generous.

See you on the next carta ❤️.

Here goes;

I think I've been holding a torch for you

Picking up the tiny crumbs you drop in my path because it feels like if I do that, maybe you'd someday see that I am worth the effort

The once-a-year conversations feel like something you do to just tick of your checklist… you know? Reminding yourself that I exist. It's so annoying how I still get so excited at the crumbs, because why don't I just ignore you?

So I've been stuck in this cycle. You text or call, I'm on cloud nine for a few days and then you just go away.

You already know I'm too proud to beg you to see me, and I'm really not a patient person. But I've waited for you Greg. I've waited for you to have the epiphany that your words need to be backed with actions. Because YOU said you liked me. So why are you doing this? Is it because you know I'll always pick up your call?

I've tried to hate you for so long for doing this to me. It's low key manipulative and it's not fair. I think I deserve better.

I've also tried to excuse your behavior for the sake of our lifelong… what do I call it? Knowledge of each other? I guess that works because any other term would be too endearing and I may be many things, but I'm not delusional. Not anymore.

Trust me, I've tried to be your friend but you don't even give me the chance to be that. I don't know what you want from me. I don't even know if you want anything from me and for so long, I've wished you would.

I don't even talk to my friends about you anymore because it makes me look stupid, “He said he likes me but he checks on me once a year.” That's humiliating. I won't do that to myself. I refuse to remain a 'he loves me- he loves me not' girl.

Today is finally the day I put out the torch I've been holding for you for nearly two decades. It still hurts, but not as much as it used to. Yay me? I've stopped caring so much. Seems you finally broke something in me.

I've been thinking of ways to put out the torch. I want something permanent because I've done this before, but I foolishly picked up a match to reignite the torch a few days later. The spell you put on me is strong, I'll give you that.

Well, today here I am on the shore getting ready to toss this torch into the ocean. It's pretty permanent because I can't even swim, and I'm terrified to even dip my toe in. That's how I know that after today I won't return here. I hear the sound of the torch sinking and I finally release my breath that I didn't even know I was holding.

Goodbye Greg, you've preyed on my mind long enough.

Disclaimer: This is entirely fiction. Any semblance to real life is purely coincidental 😂.

I wrote this whole thing during a lecture, it was just me trying to kill time.

Run away from people who keep you in limbo kids. You've circled this mountain long enough!

The torch I'm referring to is just a big stick with fire at the top, like the one on NYSC logo 😂.

Decided to share one of my favorite sad songs

I didn't give Greg's “babe” a name, so give her one in the comments.

Thank you for reading always ❤️

Let me preface this by saying that not everything you create is probably worth putting out there. Trust me, there are stories I've written that would never see the light of day and I knew even when I was writing them because I just felt meh about them. But goosebumps? Especially the ones that you always get when repeatedly you read what you wrote, or listened to what you sang, or watched your video? Nah, those are worth fighting for. Even if nobody else understands. Let the whole world call it trash, but do it for you.

Stop trying so hard to be relatable. If the only person who can relate to your stuff is you, then fine!

I haven't particularly been "successful" on here but whenever I start to get discouraged by the meagre numbers, I come to read my stuff again and excitement bubbles within me like it did the first time. Because I get me, and the six other very real people who liked my stuff did too. I don't have to dabble in trends or do whatever other people are doing for more followers or traction to their stuff. It's not like it's wrong, but that's just not me for now. I know who I am and I know why I write. Even if nobody reads this today, I know that one day, someone somewhere who may not have even been born yet may find this useful. So right now, I'm fighting for my, and that hypothetical person's goosebumps.

Numbers are super cool, that's what brings food to the table lol. That's why I'm really glad that at this phase of life, I don't need numbers to eat because boy, would I be starving 😂. Don't become a creative sellout because of numbers. Tending to everyone else's goosebumps except yours? Whatever happened to self love, bucko?

You know something else that being obsessed with numbers does, it robs you of authenticity. You get one hit of 1k likes and the pressure is on for you to recreate or supercede that with the next drop. You would do anything to recreate that, even things that are not your usual MO.

It's very normal to seek validation as a creative with whatever it is you're creating, but don't in a bid to get validated, lose sight of your authenticity. There is space for you, take up that space maximally.

There's lots of times I've discredited myself as a writer thinking that because everybody and their mummy writes, there's nothing different I have to offer. I was very wrong. What drives me is the difference, and that can show up in the language, the nuances, the emotion, the expression, etc. Ten people can write on the same topic and all ten pieces will be different. That's what's so beautiful about God. In His immense wisdom, He gave us all different and unique talents, even if we categorize them with the same name. Therefore, oh you who create, don't insult God by trying to be someone else. If you don't take up your space, God will get someone else to do it... Not necessarily because they are better than you talent-wise, but because they're better at saying yes. Better at yielding. Better at standing at their post and not breaking rank.

I also need to say, fighting for your goosebumps also means putting in the work to be a better creator. It's very much cliché but consistency is key. Show up everyday determined to be better than you were yesterday. This doesn't even mean you should put unnecessary pressure on yourself by comparing your today to another person's next week. You should be your greatest competitor, honestly. Every opportunity you have to exercise your gift, take it seriously. Even when I'm writing stuff that no one else would ever read e.g. journalling (okay, this is not a good example because I do plan to gift my journals to my future daughters if they want it but I digress), I do it like I'm in a writing competition. Yes the emotions will be processed, but they have to be processed in immaculate English Language, and with beautiful literary progression. My girls must know that mummy being NYT best selling author did not start today😌.

Everytime I hear big time songwriters e.g. Mr Bellion say that they've written a song or two everyday since they were like fourteen years old, I'm always in disbelief because like...everyday? I thought that interesting, earth shattering and groundbreaking stuff had to happen for songs to be born, so do you mean those are happening to you everyday??? I'm always so confused. But realistically, it's not everything you create that must come out of the oven onto the dining table. Sometimes when you try to exercise your gift, it would be a cringe fiesta before, during and after the creating sesh, but don't be dismayed! All that stuff is just part of the process, making you a better creator.

Finally, it's okay to take a break from your craft when you don't feel like fighting or when it seems like you're losing. But don't stay away too long or you'll become a stranger to your craft. Take it from someone who has experienced this a lot of times.

Special thanks to my friend Delight for sharing the link to the first interview that sent me into the Jon Bellion rabbit hole.

Also, to my friend Dr Eben for being my beta reader.

Last but definitely not the least, to you who has read to this point. You're the realest.

See you on the next carta❤️

Do you ever think of how different your life would be if you didn't go to the schools you went to? I think about it very often because most(if not all) of the friends I currently have, I met in, or because of school.

I love my friends so much. It's hard to put into words.

When people that aren't family by blood love you and choose you everyday, it does something to your heart. Most times, when I spend time with my friends, I just feel like picking up my journal to write a poem about the beauty of friendship... And I don't even write poetry.

I've always liked school even though it mostly sucked (still sucks by the way) and I do realize it's because of the friends I made at every step of the way- they make it easier. From primary through to secondary school and even now in university, God always places the best people in my life. I know for a fact that if I did go to different schools, I would still have met amazing people but I'm glad that God ordered my steps this way.

Whenever I say I'm loved at home- and I do say this a lot because it's so true, I mean my family AND my friends. Turns my heart to mush because I'm not necessarily easy to love. I love that with my friends, I never have to think of where I stand and don't have unrealistic expectations because it's not a one day thing. Relationships take years to strengthen, especially friendships. Whenever I feel detached from life and all it throws at me, all I need is a conversation with a family member or friend and I feel like I belong somewhere. I feel anchored. I feel centered. God knew we would need that.

Someone told me long ago that I'm really lucky with friendships. I did the Nigerian thing and said “Na God”. Whilst I acknowledge that it's partly true, I'll say this…. I have been a good friend too, and this isn't me trying to toot my own horn because my friends toot it enough😌. You can't expect to receive what you're not giving, honestly. It just doesn't work that way.

I know that there are people who have been good friends and have still gone through hell in the hands of so-called friends and I really empathize with you. You don't deserve that and I pray that life is kinder to you. However, just keep being a good friend and person in general. God will give you your person or people.

From my very few bad experiences with so-called friends, a word of advice; stop trying to befriend people who have repeatedly shown you that they do not like you. It's not worth it. Even if they try to pretend, see through the pretence and run away before they wound you again. You're loved at home, iyeh? I'm all for giving people the benefit of doubt, but at the expense of your sanity? No dear. Nobody is saying you should have enemies, but even Jesus didn't let just anybody get too close. Did you see him inviting Judas Iscariot to the Mount of transfiguration? So why are you trying to be more loving than Jesus? Come off it in Jesus name. Stop pouring into baskets and focus on people that actually love you.

I feel like I've gone on many tangents, but it's English. You'll understand.

Thank you my lovely subscribers for sticking around even when I took time away. God bless you❤️