As much as I made it look soo desirable.

Here's the part that's not often talked about:

Most times being an avoidant can make you feel soo lonely.

The type of loneliness where you're surrounded by a whole lot of people but still, you can't call any of them your own, your person.

There are days, i literally feel overwhelmed, but can't tell anyone about it because I don't want to be emotional dependent on anyone.

There are moments I literally want to hold someone's hands and tell them about how i actually feel but I can't, because I'm scared there isn't a place in their heart that can carry my feelings the way you carry an egg meticulously.

There are days i need a hug so bad and a "you're doing so well" moment from a friend, but I guess I've distanced myself so bad, that nobody can attempt coming close to give me a hug.

Times like these, I hate that I am an avoidant. I hate that I've pushed everyone to a distance so far from my heart that they can't even dream of coming close.

These are the perks. People open up a layer of themselves to me while a cover up my layers like an onion bulb. So I end up bottling things up. I've learnt to carry and endure pain all by myself. I've learnt to console myself. To give myself a pat at the back to keep going.

And these are the hardest moments, the days you desperately need someone to open up to. To come close and actually understand you, the REAL YOU.

I've come to realise that no matter how much you try to protect your heart you'll always need your people.

Everything comes at a cost, this is the price you'll have to pay in the pursuit of saving your heart.

I'm leaning towards unlearning avoidant attachments. I know it'll be a long process, but I'll try anyway, for the friendships that are meant to be and stay.

Love,

Joy 🫶

And I know it sounds crazy because we’re often told that the people we love are the people we spend the most time with.

But my case is different.

I want to love without feeling too deeply.

I want to be there for you in your pain and sorrow, but I can do without the daily check-ins.

I would rather not acknowledge that you hurt me than have a difficult conversation about it.

And if you ask me why I’m like this, I’ll tell you that I just want stress-free relationships.

And I’m not talking about the kind of relationship where you can’t be there for your friends. I’m talking about all the unnecessary friendship drama that comes with being too involved in each other’s lives.

Because I’ve come to realise that some of the biggest heartbreaks and betrayals can come from being too involved in each other’s processes.

And maybe that’s why I’m an avoidant.

My eyes have seen shege in the friendship world. 😭

So, when my friends ask, “Can we meet more often?” I say I’m busy. But conferences or programmes? I'm sat like mad

And it's not because I don’t care.

But because I’m learning to love from a safe distance, a distance safe enough to protect my fragile heart from being hurt again.

Sometimes, it breaks my heart that I’m losing touch with some of my friends.

But I’m also learning how to heal and how to trust again. I don’t want to rush the process.

These days, I’m more into vibes in relationships than serious conversations because, honestly, I don’t think I’m ready for anything too serious.

If you want joy and laughter, I’ll gladly give you that. But I’m sorry, I can’t give you my heart. My poor heart has been bruised severely.

I've realised that being an avoidant is less about being a bad friend and more about protecting your heart until it's strong enough to trust again.

So if you're my friend reading this,

I hope you understand that my being distant was never about you but more about finding myself again. I would rather not give you my heart at all than give you a broken fragment of it. You deserve much better than that.

I’m still learning how to let people in without losing myself in the process.

And perhaps, one day, I’ll learn that keeping everyone at a safe distance isn’t the only way to keep my heart safe.

Until then, please be patient with me.

Love,

Joy 🫶

I recently lost a friend, and I thought of writing to you about it.

This is the first time in my life that I'm losing a friend or someone within my age group to the cold hands of death.

Last time I lost someone within my age grade, I didn't feel this sad because I actually saw it coming. She was a sickle cell warrior. So, even before she died, I had prepared myself for it.

But this one? I never in my wildest dreams saw it coming. Till this moment, I still can't believe it.

I have to periodically look at the burial flier to remind myself it's true.

And do you know what hurts the most? The fact I find myself living life again, as though I didn't just lose someone. Not because I don't care, but because the world doesn't stop for a demise, and I am still in this world, controlled by this world.

It's crazy to think that life still moves on even when one of the people filled with so much life has just lost their life.

And this has brought me to a personal reflection:

1.Nobody in my life is permanent, and just like a vapour, your life could be gone soon.

2.We spend so much time trying to prove to a world that'll still move on regardless when we die that we matter and in the process, some of us lose ourselves.

3.At the end of the day, no matter how much we love a person, death reminds us we can only care so little.

4.Death doesn't decide who should leave; he simply picks at random, and that's the scariest part, because it leaves us with the question: who is next?

5. Nobody is above the programme of death.

I show up every day for the tasks that need to be done, but still, in between these daily tasks, I find myself stopping halfway and thinking of you, my friend. I often wonder where you are, and I terribly hope you're happy in Heaven.

Till next time, my dear friend, I would have said “ICT classes would no longer be the same without you”, but I'm glad I never got to say that because we both saw the end of ICT classes.

It hurts that you are gone, but it's even more unbelievable that you are gone. Because what do you mean you're no more?

It hurts badly, but I'm glad to the creator that I got to experience one of his most loved creations (I guess that's why he took you back so fast)

Till next time, Achọ. It was lovely crossing paths with you. You are loved and remembered 🫶

There had never been a life that I had lived outside of ambition. I can't think of one.

There had never been a life I had lived where I got too comfortable in the crowd and did not want to stand on the stage.

My greatest fear is not being someone in life.

From a little girl, I had always wanted to be Somebody in life.

I was the typical child; parents often looked at and remarked to their kids, "Look at your mates, see what they're doing"

At the age of 6, I had already been aired on a radio show for winning the competition they had organised.

I was already engaging in public speaking activities in primary school. To be honest, I think everyone knew me to be that "girl who occasionally spoke on the assembly stage"

Academically? I was brutally good.

The 1st-3rd position hates to see me coming, and if you ever took my position away from me, you automatically became my rival.

I recall graduating from primary school as the second best in my class; that position haunted me for years to come. Because I wanted to be first.

Coming to secondary school, the same thing happened. I had some rough sessions in junior secondary school; in senior secondary school, I made sure I made up for all my years of redundancy in junior secondary school.

I showed up brutally. Academically, socially, spiritually- you name it! I was everywhere. In every competition, in every club or society. Leadership positions didn't find me slacking, either; I took on a bunch of roles as I could. A lot of times I bit more than I could chew.

Church? Church wasn't exempted. Everyone knew me- "The spoken word" girl. I would perform the Spoken word, and you'd feel every word I had spoken through your bones. One of the days, after my spoken word presentation in Church, a mother walked up to me and told me she literally cried; she felt everything I had said. That was how good I was.

Then someone "mistakenly" informed me of the possibility of studying abroad. That was it- I put it in all the work I could. To be very honest, there was nothing within my power I didn't do to make sure I studied abroad. The applying, researching, writing- I did all these without a phone of my own. I used my mother's. My poor mom was already tired of me- she knew that when I placed my hands on the plough, there was no going back. Still, I didn't get in.

Coming to the University, the same pattern flowed. I've been everywhere again, consumed by taking up opportunities, showing up and putting in the work.

All my life, I just knew I couldn't be small. I didn't fancy watching things happen. I wanted to make things happen.

But now I'm left with a heaviness I can't seem to explain. People see me showing up, and most of the time they're impressed.

But there are many things behind the scenes they don't see and may not understand. They don't see the many perks of being an overly ambitious person.

They don't see the fears.

They don't see the pressures from myself!

They don't see that I can be too hard on myself.

They don't see that I am 18, but somewhere in my subconscious, I think I'm 20.

They don't see that I am my biggest limitation and distraction.

They don't see that there's an imaginary timeframe I have to achieve all that I want to be.

They don't see the days I think I'm a failure because I'm not yet where I want to be.

They don't see the days I'm weary and worn out but can't seem to stop. It's as though I've been put on a bicycle whose brakes have failed to work.

It's a lot, and sometimes, I hate that I am overly ambitious. I hate that I treat myself the way I do- not being kinder to myself for the things that didn't go my way and stopping to celebrate the wins that I have believed are expected of me.

But today, I am learning that life is not a sprint and there's no timeframe to all that I could ever be.

I'm learning to take on opportunities that only interest me and not the achievements I can take out of it.

I'm learning to be still; that constant motion can lead to wearout and exhaustion.

I'm learning that rest and reflection aren't antagonistic to the journey but part of it.

Most importantly, I'm learning to be ME and not the version of successful people I have been sold.

It's okay to want to be someone in life, but please don't lose yourself as you try to.

It's no stranger anymore.

First, it crept in like an old folly lying in wait to assassinate our being while we are asleep.

So we kept awake, for fear of waking up dead. But it doesn't cower; it shows us what it can do in our sleep, and it can also do in our vigilance.

It sends out an arrow that bruises our flesh.

A part of us, now worn away.

We're down now, anticipating our last breath, ignorant that life isn't over even when a part of us has fallen away.

It dances the famous atilogwu dance, while roaming around to the non-rhythmic beating of the metal gong, searching for those who are hopeful enough to fight back.

But we stay down, drowning in our unfortunate state until days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months, yet our lives do not fall apart.

Then it dawned on us,

We've believed in a fantasy.

A lie that a missing piece cancels out the whole.

We then arise in solidarity to fight back against our sworn enemy.

As we forge ahead, we see it spreading its arms wide. It doesn't attack us; rather, it welcomes us to a dance of atilogwu.

For it is only the hopeful who dance to the tunes of failure.

So my dear, failure isn't foreign to us.

It's a seasonal friend that teaches the hard way. The kind of friend we can call brutal but soft.

And if we ever forget what we've been taught? Be assured the eye of the arrow isn't far from our flesh.

There are some people who come into your life, their entrance isn't loud, nor does it show potential. But they come, they stay.

With every glare, their eyes scream, "I see you".

With every conversation, their words whisper, "I feel you".

With every smile, their laughter says, "I love that you are here, and I want you here".

They don't carry the big titles like "Best friend", "Best girl or Best boy", yet somehow, they occupy some of the most special places in our hearts.

Sometimes they don't know your parents, siblings or even where you live, yet they have shown you a depth of love and kindness that rivals and surpasses that of many family relationships.

They are not imaginary. Sometimes they're the childhood classmate you unexpectedly meet years later in a shopping mall, and before leaving, you hurriedly exchange contacts. Sometimes they're the coursemate who always ends up in the same practical group until one day, you finally swap phone numbers. Sometimes they're the church member who never fails to compliment your outfit. Other times, they're the stranger who sends, "Hi, I got your number from the group chat."

They don't show up every day. But when they do, they show up fully.

They're not part of every conversation. They don't always know your plans or your daily routine. Yet somehow, they're in every win and pain. They journey from distant places into the closest corners of your heart, and you wonder how someone can understand you so deeply from such a safe distance.

They're the ones who appear in your DMs after months of silence and ask, "How are you... truly?" They're the ones who message, "I just thought to check on you." They're the ones who stumble upon an opportunity and immediately think of you.

They're not demanding front-row seats in your life. Instead, they quietly say, "I may not know every step of your journey, but I'll always be cheering you on. And if you ever need me, I'm only a phone call away."

They remind us that love doesn't always have to be intimate to be genuine. That love can be distant but still communicated effectively; in quiet consistency, thoughtful check-ins, remembered dreams and silent support.

Heyy...just a quick spoiler, I don't know where this newsletter is leading to, I'm just trying to put all of my thoughts into words(Okay, let's say selected thoughts because I definitely can't share all of my thoughts with you😅)

It's a new year and I'm finally admitting that I'm scared, unsure and maybe, confused. This is the first year, since God gave me sense, that I do not have a set of defined goals or plans. I'm just here, living and breathing.

Am I the only one who feels a lot of content creators are using people's vulnerability to exploit them? I mean, so many of them have ventured into selling planners, some others are selling courses on "How To Achieve All your 2026 goals", and the like. I'm not saying it's wrong, I'm saying I'm tired of feeling the surge of pressure that overwhelms me after seeing them on my FYP. They should keep it up though, i mean they should make good money while it lasts and I pray the consumers finally get to understand that it was never about the courses and planners they didn't purchase, it was always about them and their attitude towards growth (see me dishing out advice, I am in dire need of😭😭)

LinkedIn is so depressing. I've been avoiding that app, because I'm trying to gather up what is left of my mental health. I'll be back there though, but not anytime soon. You all, should please put me in your prayers.

Do you know what's funny about all this midnight rant? It's the fact that I hit a major win today. Yup....I finally reached 100 subscribers on YouTube, and I put out a video today. You can watch here if you wish to, and subscribe to be a part of the family- CLICK HERE. I promise you, I'm not ungrateful, I'm just in an endless cycle of what I call "What's the next huge thing?", like achievements, wins, projects, etc.

I like to feel meaningful, and I only feel meaningful when I'm actively doing something impactful, or there's a win. I'm learning that sometimes in life, there'll be moments where there's no "Next huge thing" and that's totally fine.

I feel there's so much content to consume on social media, with so little time. To be honest, I don't want to waste years of my life trying to catch up to Social media and at the same time, I have this great FOMO towards social media. I'm learning that you'll never catch up with everything, even if you stayed on social media 24/7, and missing out on what's going on with the world doesn't make you outdated.

And.. I just realised I prefer laughter to tears. I used to think I was more of a crybaby than a laughing Jakas whenever I'm overwhelmed with emotions until lately. I realised I laugh at everything, both the fun, cringe, weird, sad moments.....I laugh all the time. Unfortunately for me, my laughter isn't demure. I don't recommend it for the classy babes, it's more like the "I no send your papa" babes, but I'm learning to embrace it as it is, even when I'm in public, plus I feel so much joy in laughter.

Why are they still playing knockouts by this time of the year? Like...why??? The first time I heard them this night, I ran out of my room almost immediately because I thought it was a gunshot and someone had been shot, only for me to realise they were knockouts. The part where I ran out of the room is so funny because I've been telling God recently to take away the Spirit of fear from me, and this night, I just made the devil happier by showcasing my weakness even after reciting Romans 8:15 a few days ago. Well, we'll go again, tomorrow in the place of prayer.

Okay, I think these are my selected thoughts I wish to share with you guys, so I'll be stopping here. Also, I feel so sleepy but I can't sleep because I have some chores to tend to(Omo...the Lord is my strength).

I know this isn't your regular New Year's newsletter, but please, this is what I have to offer for now. Happy New Year, Guys. Please don't let anyone pressure you.

PS: I just realised, I won't be posting this night like I wanted to, because someone is guilty of not charging her phone till it's 1%. My phone is currently 1%😭😭. So, if you see this tomorrow morning, afternoon or evening, don't take me as a fraud, please; the time stated here is actually true.

Your very own,

Joy🧡

Your mind is wandering. You are tossing on your bed. You unplug your phone from the charger, then go to Instagram, you still do not feel anything, you move on to Twitter, you feel suffocated, so you go to Substack, maybe just to feel something light.

You wonder if you should watch a movie, since there's not much pressure to sleep, cause you already had a nap in the afternoon.

There's a lingering thought to pray and contend for your future. Another thought, is to sit with your journal and plan for 2026.

You are thinking of your life now. How you are your biggest enemy, contending against the potentials deposited in you. You're not self-loathing, you are just spilling out a random truth you know a little bit too well.

You're getting tired of yourself now, so you chose to do something. You race to your notepad, and you begin to write a letter you're not sure of its ending.

Now, it's 11:10 pm and you wonder how fast time races amidst inactivity.

I belong to a Writer’s group, and we were given an assignment to write to our younger selves, so I said, 'Let's give this another shot.’

“I remember you pretty well, not like I would have loved to, but at least I have a memory of you and that's enough.

I remember you as a beautiful, audacious little girl. You walked through the earth with your head held up high as though the whole world was yours, to be honest it was and still is.

I remember you falling in love with writing, then later on burning your first book. I understand, it wasn't your fault. You taught you weren't good enough and nobody would have loved to read your work, except the flames of fire. Well, I guess the flames enjoyed it a little too much, so they couldn't let it die, so they reignited a fire in you to write and guess what? You've never stopped writing ever since.

I remember you living life on your own terms, not that it was bad for you but it made you overlook the One we're all meant to live for- God. I'm glad you recognised your inadequacy and embraced the Sufficient One. There were times you fell off and wandered away but God was still closer to you than your skin. In moments as this, you realise He is your life, and there'll be no life without Him.

I remember you dreaming more than Joseph the dreamer. You had lofty dreams that looked somewhat scary and unachievable. Some of which have faded with time, others have lingered on like a powerful scent that refuses to be ignored, and many others are your current reality. Regardless, I'm proud of you and how far you've come. Please don't stop dreaming.

I remember you to be your biggest motivation and support system. You always believed in yourself, even when no one else believed in you. You had faith in the Impossible being possible, fought so many told and untold battles, got broken and broken again, but you always came out as the victor. Not that you won all your battles, but you fought all of them, you didn't cower, you fought back, that in itself is victory!

I remember you losing and finding yourself again, not once, not twice, let's just say it's a periodic cycle that has come to stay. You've wandered away from your true identity, to search for something bigger and better forgetting that this is who you are and you are exactly where you're meant to be. Thank God for God, because He knows how to handle your coconut head and bring you back to the mirror to show you who you are, just in case you had forgotten.

I remember you, wishing that you'll grow up fast and live out adulthood right away, not because you had a rotten childhood but because you always imagined your bigger self to be full of clarity and purpose. Well, I'm here, and the truth is, I don't have it figured out, I still don't have it figured out, but I show up always, for you, for me.

It's been years since I was last you, but I haven't forgotten you. I still think of you and what you think of me. Are you proud of me or disappointed in me? That's why I thought to write to you. I hope you see all that I do and how I'm trying my best to build the life of our dreams.

I love you, I really do. Keep being amazing, don't stop being you and one day the world will catch up to your wonder.

-Joyoyo🤍.

It is not a command, nor is it a plea. It just has to be, because what do you mean I lost not one, two, three, four, five, six, and so many more persons to you?

What do you mean, I get to live without my people? It doesn't sit right with me at all and if you were in my shoes, it wouldn't sit right with you either, but I guess you would never relate because you don't wear shoes; you only walk on cold feet.

2025 stole from my tribe and me. I used the word "stole" because it suits traitors like him. As I stepped into you, you promised me Joy, bliss and everything good. You made a promise to me that this would finally "be my year", that my Pastor's prayer on New Year's Eve would be my reality. Unknown to me, I had just stepped into a death trap where you don't take my life instantly, but you take the lives of my people, while you watch my tender heart break with each death that occurs.

You made sure to buy into your plan every month, including my beloved December. I thought December would be different, I thought it wouldn't dance to your ridiculous tunes, that no matter how much you named your prize, it would hold on to its dignity, but I guess I was mistaken. It too failed me.

Each month was a survival from the previous. Each passing day, a subtle awareness that in a flicker of a second, any of my people could be gone.

With each loss, I learnt how to heal.

Some taught me healing was crying, some taught me it was praying, some taught me it was journaling while some taught me it was being numb to the whole situation.

2025 played with me as though I were a tennis ball, it could scuffle to and fro. On most days, just when I thought everything was stable again and I'm learning to live with the pain being scarred on my heart, it screams: Another banger! It then happens, one of my people is gone.

2025 has made death too familiar to my being, as though I were a morgue attendant. It felt too familiar, and on most days, I felt numb. Not that, I didn't care anymore, but the frequency with which it occurred made the whole situation too bad to be true.

2025 smelt like grief. I went through the same hellish cycle over and over again: Hear the news of the demise, be in shock/cry, talk about it amongst loved ones, burial preparation, finally burial and days later, still wonder if this is all real.

2025, I don't need any explanations from you, just bring back all that you stole from me; let's end on a good note, pretend all these didn't happen and never cross paths again.

Till next time,

Joy🤍.

How are you doing? Please let me know in the comments; I really want to know. (I anticipate reading comments that offer some insight, not just ‘I'm fine’).

How have I been? I'll tell you, for one I've been battling with living again. I'm currently on a school break, and ever since I returned, I've been craving living. You may ask me, stunned, what I've been doing all the while, and I'll tell you this: I've been surviving; hanging on by a thread.

As I wrote my final exams in school, I fantasised about what my break would be like; easy, free and seamless. I fantasised I'll be happy again, finding purpose and doing all the things I loved, but here I am, on a school break, and it feels as though the weight of the world is resting on my shoulders. This heaviness isn't stemming from a place of heavy workload, it's from a place of noise. This is funny to write because I don't even go out, the plan was to stay indoors and avoid the whole chaos and noise outside but I carried a piece of the world with me into my safe haven: Social Media.

Social Media is terribly loud. A lot of people with diverse opinions and content. And the truth is sometimes, I don't want to watch your content or listen to your opinion about an issue or watch your show, not because it isn't worth it, but because in so doing I'm gradually losing myself.

We all talk about how we should listen to podcasts or great music while tending to a chore, but we don't talk enough about listening to yourself, to your thoughts.

We all talk about how we should create content and show up consistently, but we don't talk enough about staying in the moment, with or without a camera watching.

We all talk about building an online community, but we don't talk about the quiet fear that creeps in when you realise it's just you, and nobody is coming to save you, despite the number of followers or subscribers you have.

So my soul yearns to live again, maybe to become the version of me I was without social media. I crave to read again, read books endlessly without the nudging to come online to check if the world has finally caught up with me.

I crave to sleep again, times which were originally meant for sleeping now being replaced with Social Media.

I crave to write again, for myself and not necessarily worry over how many people like or comment it gets.

I crave to be lost in the world of my imagination and not in other people's lives.

I crave to stay with myself, enjoy my presence and relish in the quietness of being alone.

I crave to be me again, unapologetically and non-performatively.

This is not me saying Social Media is bad, this is me saying social media is noisy and if you're not careful you'll get lost in its non-rhythmic beats.

I'm trying to find myself again, I'm trying to learn stillness after being exposed to that much noise. It isn't easy, but I'm trying.

Lately, I've been listening to soulful, calm Christian music, which is weird because I'm more into vibes in music.

I've been reading a lot, too, which I'm grateful for.

I've been learning to stay in the moment, to have a conversation with my mom or a sibling and not be tempted to press my phone mid-way in.

I've been building my spiritual life, connecting to my maker in more intimate ways.

I've been eating and sleeping too, I didn't come to this life to suffer.

I've been staying with my thoughts too, not in an "overthinking way", but in an "I need to understand myself better" way.

It's been great, and to be honest, I wish I could stay this way forever. Life without too much noise, but living and tending to the mundane things that are often overlooked because of the whirlwind of trying to catch up with the happenings on Social media. In my defence, I'll say Social media should try catching up to me and not me to it. I'll be back though, but I won't be constant anymore.

So if you notice I haven't been popping up on your screen as usual, it's because I've been trying to live again, the right way.

PS: I'm writing this to you while getting my hair done which is funny because for days I've been contemplating getting my hair cut....Well, I guess the time isn't yet right for me to do so.

Also, if you're wondering why I'm still here, that's because I don't consider Substack as Social Media, YouTube too...lol.

Till next time,

Joy🤍

It's been so long that I'm not sure I remember how to do this again, but I'll try, because in the process, we rediscover pieces of ourselves.

So why did I cheat on you guys? First of all, I can explain (it's giving Hollywood scene vibes😂😂).

When I say cheat, I mean why did I prioritise all other aspects of my life at the expense of my substack community (you get it now, right??)

Well, first of all, I love you guys a lot. My decision to leave Substack didn't come from a place of hate. I had to leave for some time to breathe again and find my sanity.

There were so many times I wanted to write to you guys, but I felt bad intruding on your lives after leaving without a proper explanation.

So I'm sorry, I'm sorry for cheating. Okay, let me be honest, the major reason I've been harming on “cheating” is because I found another love. I know my Substack community was my ultimate love, but during my short hiatus, I reunited with a long-lost love. I fell in love with this one even before I met you guys.

Okayyy...some of you reading are gonna be like, what's this girl talking about😂 (because I sound crazy even to myself).

I'm talking of my YouTube channel guysss 🤭, I finally started my YouTube channel after years of dreaming about it and doubting myself.

Just like Substack, YouTube is a place where I feel at home, and because I love you both so much, I've decided to share this love equally (not the type you see in polygamy oo....this one is much better 😌).

I want my Substack community to be a part of my YouTube family and vice versa because in a community, you find family. So if you're not a subscriber to my YouTube channel, then you're only a community member not a part of our family (just joking though😂).

Here's the Link to subscribe to my channel and watch my videos-CLICK HERE

I'm so happy to be back, although I have a little beef against you 😒(yeahh...you read that right). Nobody checked on me while I was away. It seems like you all didn't even feel my absence, because if you did, you would have checked on me 😡.

I'm sad and the only way you can appease me is to write me a letter in the comments, telling me how you missed my newsletters🤭. Please don't take me seriously, I'm only joking 😂 but I'll appreciate it if you do that though.

So this newsletter is specifically for apology and explanation. In my next newsletter, I'll share what has been going on in my life, hopefully.

Here's to showing up and not disappearing like I always do 😩.

Till next time,

Joy🤍.

Please tell me something in the comments section, I loveee reading your comments 🤭.

Ohhh...failure isn't foreign here.

It's no stranger anymore.

First, it crept in like an old folly lying in wait to assassinate our being while we are asleep.

So we kept awake, for the fear of waking up dead. But it doesn't cower, it shows us that which it can do in our sleep, it can also do in our vigilance.

It sends out an arrow that bruises our flesh.

A part of us, now worn away.

We're down now, anticipating our last breath, ignorant that life isn't over even when a part of us has fallen away.

It dances the famous atilogwu dance, while roaming around to the non-rhythmic beating of the metal gong searching for those who are hopeful enough to fight back.

But we stay down, drowning in our unfortunate state until days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months, yet our lives do not fall apart.

Then it dawned on us,

We've believed in a fantasy.

A lie that a missing piece cancels out the whole.

We then arise in solidarity to fight back against our sworn enemy.

As we forge ahead, we see it spreading its arms wide. It doesn't attack us; rather, it welcomes us to a dance of atilogwu.

For it is only the hopeful who dance to the tunes of failure.

So my dear, failure isn't foreign to us.

It's a seasonal friend that teaches the hard way. The kind of friend we can call brutal but soft.

And if we ever forget what we've been taught? Be assured the eye of the arrow isn't far from our flesh.

How are you? (Tell me in the comments, I really want to know.)

How am I? Well, hanging on by a thread.

Sometimes life sucks. Sometimes I'm tired. Sometimes I'm just there.

Made a new hairstyle yesterday, deleted my Instagram today, wrote a post for LinkedIn but got stuck in posting (omo...it's a long story), thought about my life a thousand times, cooked rice and stew that didn't turn out well and procrastinated washing.

Even writing has betrayed me, too. Sometimes writing is hard.

Sometimes I just want to be. To not try. To not be expected anything from (if that's makes sense).

I'll be fine though, it's just a matter of time.

PS: Omo...I just want to sleep, but I can't. Who go be leader of tomorrow? 😪

How are you? (Tell me in the comments, I really want to know 😘)

Well, I'm doing fine 😊.

Here's a picture proof:

Just thought to check on my Substack community before my next class.

Today I'll be sharing the Word with you, cause it gives life.

So if you don't study the Word, you're Lifeless (Okay, that was harsh, but it's the bitter truth 🙂).

Lovers of books and great literary works, do you know you are an epistle?

Yes, you didn't read it wrong, and I didn't make a grammatical error; I meant every word you read.

You are an epistle. Not with letters of ink, but letters of the Spirit. You are an epistle of Christ.

Do you know what that connotes? I'll tell you. It means that everything about you, everything you do exudes these six letters: CHRIST.

The same way you read people's epistles, that's the same way the world reads your life, by their daily interactions with you, and they cannot help but liken your life to Christ. If your life is like Christ's or the devil's 🙃).

I'll leave you with this scripture; 2 Corinthians 3:3 (NKJV).

Take care, live a Christ-like life and may the Grace of the Lord be with you.

PS: A lecturer entered my class, I have to go😩.

Till next time,

Joy ♡.

Let me take you down memory lane....

I was in Primary 5, didn't plan on moving to Primary 6, which was more of a family ritual.

I was enthusiastic about entering secondary school, I talked about it with my friends, I dreamt about it and I worked relatively hard for it.

My desire to flee primary school didn't come from a place of hatred or school stress. I just loved the idea of being called a secondary school student.

Primary school had all the joys in it no doubt. Was it the Wednesday sports day or the playground or never-ending play dates with my friends- ranging from ọga to chase and card playing. I played almost all the "playables".

One of the thrills of primary school was the hill. We had a hill in my school environment, and please, I'm not making reference to a large heap of sand, I'm talking about a literal hill.

After school dismissal, my friends and I would go there to play. Now here's the thing, we will go to the hill area, we'll try climbing up with our legs (trust me, that's one of the hardest things I've done, people who go on hiking, how do you guys do it?), ofcourse we will slip so many times on the sojourn, but for some reason we were weird relentless kids. We'll keep climbing till we get to the top and when we get to the top of the hill. We'll repeat the cycle again.

It wasn't an easy process at all, but as kids, we derived joy from it. My friends and I kept on visiting there until something happened.

You guessed correctly if you thought to yourself that I fell. But you would never guess how I fell, because it happened in the silliest manner ever.

On that fateful day, my friend and I had just finished climbing the hill and we were standing at the apex. Then she said to me in the most unsuspecting way possible, "Why don't we try going down the hill while you carry me on your back?".

You would think I had probably laughed it off or given her a sarcastic reply.

I did the exact opposite, I found it thrilling and I indulged her.

So she climbed onto my back, and we tried sliding down the hill.

What happened next? I do not know, but I remember rolling down the hill like a barrel rolling down a truck's wedge and eventually landing on the plane ground with my head.

Am I dead? Obviously not, how am I writing to you 😅. But would I have been dead? Maybe. As I think about it now, I'm in awe of the two things that saved me, and you wouldn't believe one if I told you.

Firstly, is my hair. Yup, you read that right. I was used to making a hairdo, the hairdresser's call "doughnut" ( yeah.... the name is funny).

I made the hair so often, that some people referred to me as doughnut, it was my signature hairstyle, but never did i conceive that this hair would save my life and save me from having a broken skull.

The hair was packed upwards in a very big doughnut. So when I landed on the soil and hit my head, the soil wasn't in direct contact with my head but with the doughnut rather. That was how I didn't break my head.

What about my friend, did she have any injuries? Well..let's just say her body didn't even touch the ground, not to mention sustaining an injury. She climbed off my body immediately after I slipped.

Was that experience traumatising? Yes, sometimes I still wonder if I have internal bleeding, but the medics have alleviated my worry as it's not possible for someone to have internal bleeding for a year or more.

Omoo...that's how I would have lost my life, and transitioning to secondary school would have been a closed chapter, to think I was this close to entering.

Secondly, is God. God had a plan for my life, and he kept me in the palm of his hands.

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."  Jeremiah 29:11.

P.S.: I'm God's favourite 😝, argue with your keyboard 😘.

Till next time,

It's 5:24 am, and no, I wasn't studying as I was supposed to (shhh...don't tell anyone🤫), I was scrolling through the streets of Instagram and YouTube (please don't judge me 🤧).

I love , she's real and truthful- a rare model for content creators if you ask me. I had just finished watching her YouTube video and something stood out to me while she spoke.

I won't say it as exactly as she pointed, I'll say it to the best of my remembrance. Well...turns out I don't remember as much( you know this thing where you have an idea of what to say, but you just don't know how to put it in words, yeah, that's currently my situation right now🙂).

So, I've just returned from my short sojourn to her YouTube channel and guess what, I wrote everything she said word for word, so I can pen it down for you guys(not taking chances anymore, there's a huge possibility I might forget again....yeah, my brain's that clumsy).

She said and I quote:

People are afraid to post on their own accounts; they are afraid to share their arts, share their vulnerability, because they'll be made fun of. In fact, it's a guarantee that you'll be made fun of, so just don't do it at all.

(Says something something.......),

They'll make fun of you, no matter what, you might as well be loud about who you are. Anybody who is trying to bring you down is already below you (This last sentence hit harddddd by the way).

(Says something something again......)

So please please, don't let the outside noise stop you, post that video, share that idea, share your art, share whatever you want to share. You don't need anyone's approval you only need your permission. So please give that to yourself"

Phew...thought I wasn't going to stop typing😅. As I listened to those words, I reminisced back to two days ago I made a video to specifically post on my Instagram story. I had made the video, posted it on my story and guess what? I was restless. I couldn't think properly just because I had made a video of myself talking. Mind you, I'm not physically deformed or ugly, nor do I speak bad grammar, but for some reason, I felt cringe, I felt people would say "what's this one saying" and probably scroll past it. As expected, I did the needful, went back to check how many people had viewed it and to the Glory of the Lord, it was viewed only by my sister. Thank God! So I deleted it, and the rest is history.

I know I'm not the only one who has been in a situation like this; probably many of you reading this can totally relate because we've all been there, and we're humans.

As human beings, for some reason, we've taken up a role that isn't our nature- constantly looking around us to check on what people think about our being, forgetting we are human BEINGS and we should BE ( You see what I did there😅).

After watching that video, I felt a righteous anger to go back to Instagram, re-upload that video, and whoever wants to talk should talk...it's as simple as that. However, I won't do that today because the context behind the video has already been gone. Yeahhh...that's the aftermath of listening to people, rather than your inner voice, it leaves you in regret.

But it's all good...lessons have been learnt and courage has been stolen from...you should guess who 🙃.

Moral lesson of the day: Do the damn thing! No one's watching (Maybe i lied about that last part). Do it afraid.

This serves as a moral lesson to me too, cause heaven knows the number of things I should have done, only if I had pretended that no one was watching.

P.S.: How are you????????

Tell me in the commentsssss, I really wanna know because I care 😚.

Also, pray for me that I find motivation and zeal to study....I really need it right now and whenever you're reading this 🤧.

Till next time,

Joy♡

Heyy….So you'll just leave like that without commenting????? After now, you'll say no one is checking up on you. How are you jare??? Tell me in the comments, I'll be waiting 😊.

I'm currently in a class, whose lecturer is absent (Why would you keep students waiting for hours….like whyyyy????).

And suddenly my timer rang....it's time to write my community(community, not subscribers, remember?) a new piece.

But what piece? I haven't gotten any novel inspiration in the past few days.

However, I've committed to showing up messy, showing up anyway.

So here I am, showing up again.

Maybe a few life updates will do for this piece?

Lately, my life has been occupied, and somehow, I feel like ME again.

I feel productive, fulfilling and living again.

Maybe I'm called to a life constantly building, not busy, if I should say so, but productive. This reminds me of a thought I penned down some while ago.

A little interlude, before we continue our piece:

(Lecturer walks in, talks for some while, I quietly wait to hear the class is cancelled, Oh no! 🤧, he just informed us that our Moderator for the class will be coming, then walks away, I hurriedly draw out my phone to tend to what keeps my mind sane🙂)

I'll drop it here:

I want to live a purposeful life.

One that is not busy, but fulfilled.

One that is not perfect, but constantly building.

I want to wake up each morning and say, Wow! That's my life.

I want a life that's in alignment with the will of the Father for me.

Maybe this is the inspiration for the day, who knows? As they say, there's clarity in motion.

Now, I'm stuck choosing an appropriate title🤦‍♀️.

P.S. I'm tired of school....I want to run away😪. Can this class just get cancelled? It’s been over an hour, and we've been waiting.

Till next time,

Joy♡

Her dressing was modest, not giving away the fact that she was a titled woman. Her demeanour felt like she was addressing a crowd she knew too well, and maybe she did, I mean, almost everyone in the room carried a piece of her in them, ranging from her quotes, numerous speeches and sentences in her books that spoke life to them.

We were given a chance to ask questions, and for some reason best known to my brain, it's moments like these that my brain can't manufacture any questions to ask 🤦‍♀️. So, I sat still listening to others ask their questions.

The moment that stood out to me during the Q&A session was when a girl who had just gotten the answer to the question she posed, requested that Chimamanda read a poem she had just written.
Likeee....whattt??? Who would have brilliantly prepared for an opportunity that wasn't spelt out at all. Definitely not me.

That moment made me realise that opportunities do not need to be spelt out as one before we should recognise them, and when we recognise them, be prepared to indulge them. That was what that girl did, and of course her request was granted (If I were that girl, I'd let everyone know Chimamanda has a copy of my poem...don't playyy).

Also, on the occasion of the Q&A, she was asked which book was the dearest to her heart. Guess her reply and let me know in the comments, I'll be there to proclaim you right or wrong and I'm pretty sure most of you would be wrong (smiles evilly😎).

It was a wonderful experience overall, I learnt a lot, and I'll be dropping a screenshot of my notepad here.

A lot of people were fortunate to take personal pictures with her, please don't ask me if I was one of them🙂......okay, no, I wasn't able to get a picture with her, because I love my life and I was also a little bit scared of her bodyguards and bouncers. In the course of shuuing (if that's a word) people away, they sprayed tear gas, that was how far they went.

I went back home satisfied and proud of myself for taking such a bold step despite having exams the next day and for the exam...that was one of the best exams I wrote last semester. So I guess it was a win-win after all🤭.

Ps: I made a new hair yesterday and honestly, it's the real definition of beauty is PAIN.

Also, this is my longest newsletter so far, was it engaging? Did you read to the end? Tell me in the comments, I'll be waiting 😊.

Till next time,
Joy♡.