It may(may not) sound weird to you, but I tell you Jesus is sooooooo kind, lovely and yesss permit me to say romantic.

Build that intimate relationship with him and seee😌……

There was a note I saw posted by @Victoria🌸❤️.

She was like if Duolingo can welcome you back with open arms despite inconsistent streaks, how happy God will be when you go back to him….

And it reminded me of an experience I had in my life, August 2025 was hell for me, grief, depression and hatred piled up in my heart to the extent it became a burden…

I was just there…

Was I a Christian?

Yes…

Did I go to church?

Yes?

So one day, my gurl and I had a prayer session and guess what happened???

Dad hugged me….

Yess I call him Daddy🫂🤍……

I cried, I rolled on my bed that afternoon.

It was so warm and relieving…

I can still recall my words that day “ oh Jesus, oh Jesus, you still love me, oh Jesus”…..

Now my darling 💌,

If Jesus can die for you…

Isn't that love?

The strokes he took….

He bled..

And atlas he said “it's finished”

It didn't just end there…

He rose up after 3 days and sent the comforter- holy Spirit (Acts 2)..

Sometimes I do wonder the butterflies that move when I saw someone I love and cherish….

That feeling that says “He/she is here, they won't leave”

That endless thoughts we have because of one stare our crush gives us..

Those love letters we write in our journal whenever we want to express our feeling to one another….

Darling, My Jesus is not exempted..

If He can read the hearts of men, how much more will he read those love letters you write to him….

If He gave birds insulated feets before Heavy wires were invented how much more will he protect you…

They say

“To love is to protect”

“To love is to correct”

“To love is to care”

I feel so emotional while writing this ….

Because Jesus himself is love🥺😭….

My darling, build that relationship with Jesus, he's waiting, he's watching, he's knocking….

Answer now oh don't say Sena didn't tell you……

The one who already understands you before you start expressing…

The one that already knew you from your mother's womb….

The one that watched you from a little baby till now…

The one who catered for you….

The one who died for you…

The one whose hugs are so calm…

The one who listens….

The one who hears our cry…

The one

Chimm, His love is greater than Ebuka and Amaka’s own oh…🥱😏..

We all know Romeo and Juliet, his love is even sweeter than theirs….

What does it take to build this relationship???

• Obedience: Following instructions not just obeying the laws oh but doing it wholeheartedly.. ( not that one that Dad will tell you to lead worship and you will be leading worship while your other heart is grumbling) nah not that type of obedience…..🥲

• Sanctification: Come as you are not stay as you are……You can't keep on staining that white garment because of repeated sins……nahhhh..just like the way we have red flags….yessss it's a big red flag to Dad too🤧

• Alignment: bia nu Amaka and Emeka’s🫴 , are you a fan or a follower of Christ? Are you a number or a member in church?? Are you walking with God or you're walking it alone?? Eiiii, don't forget you're not alone….What happened to Emmanuel (GOD IS WITH US)

• Attention: There's one thing I saw “you priotize what you love the most” ..calm let me simplify; you give your attention and time to what you value most what you love most…woohh you cannot keep a good relationship with Dad when your screen time says Whatsapp 3 hours, Snapchat 1 hour, Tiktok 5 hours, Bible 5 mins( if it's even up to😪🤧). Yes you're hurting Dad that way oh…you're already drifting away. Give Dad your attention and time, my darling you will even yearn for more and moreee…just like the way you yearn for “Ebuka and Amaka's hugs “….…. How long can you dwell in his presence? How long can you stay?

So my darling 💐, Make Jesus your bestieeeeee😌🌸……. He's waiting and knocking at the door of your heart….Open 👐….

HE'S MY BEST PERSON EVERRRRR🫂🫂🫂💓🌹🩵🌸……

See ya💗,

Sena's tribe 🥹

“Sena, do you want tea or coffee?”

“Tea, please.....

Good morning, Aunt Ann.”

“Here you go......”

I used the teaspoon to make a whirl in the cup, and I chuckled....

Aunt Ann knew I had lost my appetite.

She gave me my supplements and ordered me to bed.

I sneaked around, looking for my pen and book...

I couldn't find them.

Seems it got hidden this time. 😭

I searched my grandma's boxes continuously, although I was already feeling fatigued.

That kind of weakness you can't explain...

I saw an old book......

It was soooo old...

The kind that gives you those golden, yellowish pages.....

I got excited....

Since I had a pencil, I really didn't mind.

I wrote...

I wrote until my hands got tired....

Tracy,

It's Sena....

I'm so sorry that I made you go through this because of me...

But that doesn't mean you should ghost me....

That doesn't mean you should cut me off...

Even unholy branches get spared tooo...

Please, I know I have hurt you real bad.

But don't just hurt me more, plss.

Tracy, I would be willing to do anything to make it up to you...

I would quit any bad habits...

Please spare this one too...

Please.........

I wanted to help but didn't know my health played another role....

Instead of helping, I caused cracks.....

I can't wait to see you....

Farewell, Tracy... 💔😔

I sneaked again to drop this one at Tracy's gate......

Little Sena didn't know that Tracy never got those written letters....

Either Tracy's mum tore them up or kept them like trash....

Hmmmmm.....

Seems Tracy's mum is angry at Sena too........

Maybe Tracy got restricted...

Maybe??

I slept on my book....

Gbamgbamgbamgbam... gbammm...

Aunt Ann came in and saw the book and pen with me....

Sha, she didn't read it. 😭

She just took it.... and waited for me to wake up....

Omo... Sena is doomed in the room.

Oh dearrr.....

I yawned and tried to take a walk... then Aunt Ann called me.

She called me softly... gently....

I approached her with dizzy eyes.

“Sena, sit there....

What were you doing with this book and pen? Be honest. Don't let me scold you!”

Even in her quietness, I could already see her fury wrapped with curiosity.....

I took two deep breaths...

“I was trying to write.”

“Trying to write???

Sena, are you okay???

What's wrong with you???

You want to die young???

Why're you toying with your health.....

Wo he... it's your luck.

Not as if I care anyway.....”

Out of pain and anger, Sena shouted.

“You don't care! You approached me... can you let me be!

Do you even know me? Ofc no, you don't... and no one does!

Restricting me from writing is restricting me from talking......”

“I BLEED ON MY PAPERS...

I CRY ON MY PAPERS...

MY PAPER IS MY COMFORT...

IT'S MY PILLOWCASE...

IT HAS NEVER AND WILL NEVER GET TIRED OF ME...

SO LET ME BE!!!!”

“Sena, did you just shout at me....

Ooh, wait! Tracy is influencing you, right?

She's teaching you how to be rude...”

I stood at the door....

“Why did you involve Tracy? She has done nothing...

She did nothing.........”

“Really....

Wait till Uncle comes back...

They must hear of this...

Since you've grown wings....”

I shouted.

“Arrrrggggghh!!!!!”

I continued shouting...

My voice echoed through the walls.............

I shoutedddd...

I was ANGRYYYYYYYY..........

Sena didn't know Tracy was at the door, listening to the conversation between my aunt and me.

She had come for a surprise visit, but now she was hearing surprise words that could even make her heart run from her body....

Tracy hit the door and ran.

“Who was there?”

Aunt Ann checked, but she saw no one....

While me... I said no words....

I walked to my bedroom....

Tore my comics....

Tore everything.....

EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!

Ofc, I knew I was going to be seen as the bad granddaughter.....

It's better, urghh!

Now it was evening.

Grandma called for a meeting....

I was ordered to speak...

But what the hell did I even have to say?

I was just there crying....

My aunt talked to and fro....

And I was just there crying...

What else would they do, huh??....

“Sena, apologize to your aunt...”

“Aunt, I'm sorry. I won't do it again.”

I was given a punishment.

No more visits...

Come outside from my room only when necessary......

And restrictions from writing...

I was only allowed to write once a week...

That was a death sentence to me......

“Wow, so you wanna be a bad child, right?”

I didn't answer.

So I thought:

Fine, if that's how you see me, then so be it. 😔.........

Meeting dismissed...

Case closed...

Sena changed, yes...

Sena cold, yes......

Sena cried, yes......

To be continued..............

Woke up on cloud 9!!!! ☁️

For the first time, I did my chores without hesitation.

None of my relatives' scolding sank sef...

It was just the happy Sena at her granny's backyard.

So I sat, admired the pen, and wrote a poem based on my past experiences...

Life Is Weird

They say life is hard,

but I call life weird...

Just like a house full of saga,

the one that makes you thirst for agua.

Just you and your race...

But how can you explain

when others take up the space?

They say, “Dream big,”

forgetting that even elections can be rigged.

And fate goes with faith...

But wait!

Why do we crave accomplishments

even when they make our hearts melt?

Why do we pursue success

when sometimes it feels so far away?

Life is like a bicycle, they say...

But I think they don't know how it hurts

to keep pushing,

yet the mountain keeps pulling you back.

They say, “Work hard...”

But hard work is only respected

when the effort is visible.

“Life isn't fair.”

Indeed, life is weird...

And as time goes,

the weirder it becomes.

I laughed...

I sat there watching the birds, leaned against the tree, and remembered good memories.

Then I remembered Ariel...

I remembered my class teacher's hugs....

I remembered my Dad's kisses....

I remembered hide and seek games with my siblings...

I remembered Grandma praising me...

I remembered Aunt Ann's smiles......

And lastly, Tracy's gift......

I was counting my fingers while jotting this in the book my Dad gave me.....

Then I heard a crack...

A crack of wood.....

I think the footsteps sounded rude.

So I stood up, dusted my butt, and picked up my book and pen.....

The footsteps became louder. Not the scary type.

But I knew someone was there..

So I approached....

I found Tracy. 😔

Tracy was sobbing, and she didn't wait for me to ask questions. She just hugged me......

“Oh darling, what happened???”

“I... my mum....”

“Your mum what??”

I took her to Shade, the tree that was my favourite place to stay.....

I ran to get her my comic books...

And also crafted letters.....

“So my darling...

Make a choice...

You're worth them all though....

So what happened?”

“I don't wanna talk about it..........”

“Ohk........

So.... I have something to tell you...”

“Okay, I'm listening,” Tracy responded, sniffing.

“Do you know I found someone pretty??”

“Pretty???”

“Yes, she's so fair, cutee, and ahnahn, she stole this beauty from heaven. Osheyyyyyyyy!”

“Really? That girl must've been really beautiful...”

“Yes oh, and she even got me gifts yesterday....”

“Wow... gifts yesterday???”

“Who's this girl?”

“The girl....

I think you know her...

Let me give you a hint...

She lives in castles, she cares for her friends, her favourite show is Cinderella, and she loves letters.

So who could that be??”

“Wait, don't tell me it's ME!” 😂

“Oh, you made me blush like Cinderella!” 🙈

“You don't know you're very beautiful...

Me that's even jealous of your beauty.... chimmm.”

Tracy rushed to cover my mouth.

“No, don't say that....

You're beautiful just the way you are!!!

You're a black ebony, the sun acknowledges your skin by giving it the gold shades. C'mon girl....”

“Eiiii, Tracy, don't freak me outt!” 😂🤗

“Come get a huggg from Prince Charming to you.”

“Oh Sena ......love youu.”

“So I made comics last week...

Let's check it out...” ☺️

“Eiishhh, Prince Charming and Barbie???

Do they fit....???”

“Oh, you forgot my Sena the global poet...

It actually rhymes 'cause if Barbie is the lover gurl and Prince Charming loves romance, so......” 😅😆

“Oh Sena....

I love the fact you make sense out of nonsense every time...

You are sooooo smarttttttt.......

I can't repeat I love you again..but I have to...

I love you Sena!” 😂😭

Thank you......

They held hands and did their favourite handshake. 😚

“Ouch.....” Tracy screamed.

“Tracy, you okay??

What happened???”

“Nothing, I'm fine......”

Then Tracy hid her palm.....

Sena acted as if she went inside to get something. Meanwhile, she tiptoed to the back of the tree and saw Tracy's bleeding palm.

“Tracyyyy...

Blood!

Blood!!

Blood!!!”

Sena's eyes were rolling, and it seemed she was about to slip into the other realm.

Sena's eyes were about to shut, so Tracy raised an alarm.

She called other neighbours since none of my relatives were around.

Then the neighbours came and helped me.

I was admitted to the hospital and was later informed that I had a phobia of blood.

I got discharged the next day.

Grandma didn't inform my Dad, and neither did I.....

Informing my Dad would sound so terrible, so the family hid it and paid the expenses......

I was warned to avoid anything visual and critical reasoning...

But who am I to control my emotions? 😔😭

The triggers came....

I took my pen... and still wrote to Ariel and also to my Dad this time.....

I wrote a letter to Tracy and sneaked to drop it at her gate....

Her mom saw it, opened it, and tore it apart.....

Battling phobia with emotional syndrome is hell on earth.......

Just still at age nine...

Oh dearrr....

To be continued 😔

Some people say giving birth brings joy to the family.

Some people say giving birth brings tears of happiness.

Some people say giving birth is a fulfillment.

But the birth of me caused fear.

There lived a woman named Mrs. Rose. She settled in a village called Maduka. She had long awaited a child, although none seemed to come.

And when she finally had a baby bump, she was so happy, not knowing that something terrible would happen later.

And there, the story unveils.

After the pregnancy, I was finally given birth to in the hospital.

My mother screamed. She cried. She panicked. She was restless, not knowing what was happening. Her daughter was finally here, but nobody could see anything.

My father, a palm wine tapper, grabbed his bicycle and ran through the village, helter skelter, looking for herbal medicine to try. Even the hospital they took me to was demanding money.

My mother was just there, battling with her life, trying to bring out something she never knew.

And that was how I came.

After three hours of labour, I didn't survive.

I was confirmed dead two minutes after I was born.

And when I was confirmed dead, the lights suddenly went off.

The nurses became scared.

Something felt wrong.

Something felt unusual.

They eventually took me to the morgue. They wrapped me up, tagged my name to my leg, and prepared to inform my family. Everything was ready for embalming before I would be taken to the cemetery.

Then the mortuary attendant came to examine my body.

She was also a gynecologist.

She looked at me.

Then she noticed something.

She was walking through the hospital when she saw me lying there, lifeless. She became frightened and walked past.

But something made her stop.

She came back.

She examined me again, carefully, as if she was trying to understand what she had seen.

Then she decided to carry out another examination.

My mother was still there.

She was hurt. She desperately wanted to see her baby, but nobody had told her what had really happened.

And my father was there too, frustrated and broken.

Their only child was already dead.

Or at least, that's what they thought.

She noticed my hand moved.

Since she was on night duty and was already scared, the nurse thought she was hallucinating.

Maybe it was the tiredness.

Maybe it was the fear.

Maybe her eyes were simply playing tricks on her.

But what if they weren't?

What if she wasn't hallucinating?

What if I was never really dead?

She stood there, staring at me.

Then my hand moved again.

She dropped me and ran out of the room.

She was the nurse in charge of the babies that night. Her job was to dress and check on the babies, especially those on oxygen and those who needed special and constant attention.

She ran to the toilet.

Panting.

Breathing heavily.

Then the door opened slowly.

She froze.

She thought it was me.

She thought I had followed her.

She thought I was haunting her.

Unfortunately, it was only the wind that had escaped through the window.

But what if I wanted her too?

What if I wanted her to join me?

Or maybe...

What if I only wanted her to listen to me?

She placed her hand on the mirror.

And what she saw made her blood run cold.

A baby.

And herself standing in the midst of it.

She cried so hard that she immediately ran to inform her colleagues.

But everyone thought she was absurd.

Even the head nurse accompanied her upstairs to check.

When they got there, there was silence.

The lights were on.

Everything was fine.

Nothing was out of place.

"Don't disturb my peace," the head nurse cautioned.

The nurse was confused. She kept fidgeting and snapping her fingers, trying to understand what had just happened.

Eventually, she decided to take a rest.

Then she heard a baby crying.

It was loud.

Too loud.

Almost tormenting.

She checked the incubators.

The babies were peacefully sleeping.

She checked the babies on oxygen.

They were fine.

She even checked the nursing mothers.

They were resting.

But the crying continued.

It was becoming louder.

Louder.

Louder.

Until she finally summoned the courage to find where it was coming from.

Then she walked past the morgue.

The crying became louder.

Who could be crying?

She wondered.

She leaned against the wall, worried and confused.

Since she was feeling sleepy, she decided to administer IV treatment to a nursing mother.

Then the cry came again.

This time, even the nursing mother heard it.

"Who's crying so loud?" she asked.

"I don't know oh. Let me check again," the nurse replied.

She went to the morgue.

Her heart was pounding.

She was breathing heavily, trying to gather enough courage to keep walking.

As she approached the hallway, the lights began to go off with every step she took.

One.

Dark.

Two.

Dark.

Three.

Dark.

She stopped.

The shadows seemed to follow her.

An unusual noise filled the air.

Then she heard a whisper.

"Ọ bụ m..."

It is me...

She froze.

Her heart pounded even harder.

She looked behind her.

Nobody.

She turned back.

Nothing.

Then the whisper came again, this time closer.

"Ọ bụ m..."

She swallowed hard.

And then another voice whispered from somewhere deep within the darkness.

"Bịa..."

Come...

She couldn't move.

The hallway suddenly felt colder.

The crying had stopped.

There was only silence.

And somehow, that silence frightened her more.

She took one slow step forward.

Then another.

Until she reached the door of the morgue.

Her hand trembled as she reached for the handle.

And just before she touched it...

She heard a baby's cry from inside.

She grabbed a torch and slowly opened the door.

Fweeeeeewwwhiii...

The sound of the door creaking through the silence made her heart jump.

She raised the torch.

The beam of light moved across the room until it landed directly on my face.

She took one step closer.

Then another.

And as the light slowly revealed my face...

My eyes were wide open.

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh!"

"Obara Jesus!"

"Jesus! Jesus!"

She screamed, stumbling backwards.

She couldn't understand what she was seeing.

I was supposed to be dead.

I had been confirmed dead.

I had been taken to the morgue.

Yet my eyes were wide open.

The nurse stared at me for a few seconds before her body gave way.

She fainted.

Silence returned.

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm...

I tried to move.

But I couldn't.

My body felt heavy.

Very heavy.

I tried again.

Nothing.

Then, slowly, I managed to move.

I crawled forward.

Slowly.

Quietly.

Until I reached her.

I sat close to her face and stared at her.

She didn't move.

She didn't know I was there.

But I did.

I could see her.

I could hear her breathing.

And I wondered...

Why was everyone so afraid of me?

Sighsss ....

She woke up.

And saw me.

"You... please don't haunt me. Please don't..."

I couldn't talk.

I was just there, staring directly into her eyes.

She tried to escape.

But suddenly...

BAM!

The door slammed shut.

She rushed to the door and grabbed the knob.

Twisting.

Twisting.

Twisting.

But it wouldn't open.

"Please..."

Her hands were shaking.

Then I touched her leg.

A faint breath brushed against her skin.

She screamed.

Out of fear, she grabbed me.

She held me tightly, not knowing whether to run or scream.

Then she rushed to tell her colleagues and the head doctor.

They didn't believe her at first.

Until they saw me.

They tried to reach out to my mother.

"Oh, ọbim nwa..."

After hours of emergency procedures and confusion, my parents finally saw me.

Their child.

The child they thought they had lost.

And they gave me a thick, terrifying name:

Ada Onwu

The villagers dreaded me.

The nurses refused to touch me.

Nobody wanted to come near me.

Then my mother leaned closer and whispered:

"Immmirrimiri has favoured me..."

I looked at her.

And smiled.

To be continued...

DISCLAIMER: A FICTIONAL STORY, ANY SCENE THAT RESONATES WITH THIS IS PROPOSED AS A COINCIDENCE.

You can be religiously aligned and morally declined ~ Sena.

Yes I said that!

You can wear a 12 inch skirt and be a prostitute.

You can make chants and sing secular songs.

You can blast in tongues and still cuss.

You can look holy, sound holy, and still miss the heart of Christianity.”

You can wear designer suits, wear a good perfume while your character stinks.

Christianity is more than a religion...

It's more than a lifestyle...

It's more than praying and fasting...

It's more than staying up till 4 am to cast out demons...

Don't get me wrong; I didn't say those actions are wrong but when flesh depicts religion and your heart is a kingdom of darkness...then you're wrong....

You ask for mercy but can't forgive??

You ask for blessings but you can't give out 10 naira out of 100 naira.....

You ask for honour when you don't even give respect.......

Be morally inclined.....

You can quote 10 verses and still not obey the "love commandment"

That's why I'm not surprised when people read Scripture of favor while they still lack.....

The Bible isn't just a book...

It's more than history....

It's judgmental...

It reads you when you read it......

I know this may be hard to accept cause this is the truth....

It's bitter....

But I urge y'all to amend your ways and be morally inclined!

Thanks for reading…..🥹✨

Don't forget to like and also share your ideas 💡.

After what had happened, Sena woke up to the noise of the television.

“Oh my! I forgot to turn off the TV before bedtime.”

I quickly ran to the parlour to switch it off, but it was already too late. My uncle got there before me.

“Osa Sena…”

I stuttered. “Sir… good morning.”

“Oh, save that energy to get strokes. Why did you not turn off the TV before going to bed?”

“I… um… I… I forgot,” I said, searching for the perfect lie to escape.

He scolded me and called me a spoiled, forgetful human.

“Do you think you are a baby?”

“No,” I replied slowly.

A drop of tear struck the floor. I picked up a broom and started sweeping.

As I was sweeping the room, Auntie Anne instructed me to help her trash the yam peels. Of course, I ran towards her, but something got me hanging.

The TV program Uncle was watching had a shout-out to children.

I was in extreme shock.

Yes, I took it personally. I had never felt appreciated in my whole life.

My uncle was preparing to go to work, and I decided to turn off the TV. The next phrase I heard was:

“Happy Children’s Day!”

Immediately, I froze as the yam peel fell from my hand.

My eyes turned red.

For the second time, I was crying that day.

I held my chest and kept hitting it so badly.

“It’s Children’s Day!”

I swallowed the pill.

Auntie Anne shouted my name, and I ran to trash the yam peels.

I was served breakfast, but I rejected the food. I hid it under my bed and later trashed it when Auntie left for her room.

I was so hurt.

Meanwhile, my grandma was soliloquizing quietly in the backyard. She had a lot of past mistakes that somehow put her in pain she couldn’t express.

My aunt ordered me to get her a hair kit to help me unwind my hair. She received a call and, boom, she remembered it was Children’s Day.

“As usual, a short program I held a week after…” I paused, trying to gather my thoughts. Since she was a worker in church, she deserved no—

“Oh my, Sena! So today is Children’s Day and you never told me?”

“I… I am sorry. I thought you were too busy to know.”

“Really? Busy to know? Sena, what, you were a kid? Besides, I’m heading to the salon to get our hair done.”

“Oh, really?”

“Happy Children’s Day, darling. Here is ₦200 cash. I don’t have much on me, but I promise to do more, okay?”

Sena felt a smile form.

“Grandma, I’m going to make my hair.”

“Okay, my granddaughter. Make sure you watch well,” Grandma advised.

“I’m not going alone. It’s Auntie Anne and I,” I added.

“Okay. Later,” Grandma said.

After long walks, I yawned.

“Oh…”

“Darling, since you are tired,” Auntie Anne added.

“Yes, I’m tired.”

Finally, we saw a salon shop. Because of the lockdown, people didn’t really open their shops.

The hairdresser was so jovial. My hair got relaxed, and I stayed under the hair heater, a device for drying hair faster.

My aunt made her hair, got me snacks, and finally, we headed home.

“Sen aun siii!”( since ehn)

“Oh, my!” my worried grandma complained.

We got inside, freshened up, and I didn’t hesitate to get my journal.

So, I wrote a letter to Ariel.

Dear Ariel,

How’s the holiday treating you?

Man, hasn’t been fair to me.

Today started with fear, and it’s ending with tears. The fact that crying has now become a routine.

Had it been you were here, you would have hugged me tightly, placed me rightly, and talked about the history of the 1990s.

Nah, I didn’t let this thought slip off easily.

Happy Children’s Day to my best girl.

No one wished me this, although my aunt tried. But there’s no need for helping when the injury has pierced a lot.

No need for applying mentholated spirit when the wound has already deepened.

No need for bandages.

I have bled enough.

I don’t think there is blood in there.

Oh, to be loved. Heartbreaks.

How I wished it had been better for me.

Life had flogged me and given me scars at an early stage of life.

And just like that, I strolled to Tracy’s house.

She ran and hugged me.

Had it been she knew what had happened, she would have helped.

She said, “Oh, Sena! Oh, Sena! I miss you so much. Sorry we couldn’t make sandcastles today. My parents took my siblings and me for an outing.”

Dynasty Children's place??

Yes!

Then I sat down quietly, in the same place my dad had kept on promising us.

Tracy noticed something was wrong.

She gave me ice cream and a fancy pen she had won as a prize.

Then she said, “Happy Children’s Day. Just know I still care.”

I cried so hard on her lap and told her almost everything.

She listened and made me laugh, although I never expected this from her.

Grandma called, and I dashed to my room and wrote in my journal.

I got a pretty Barbie pen from Tracy. She gave me a cup of ice cream too.

I’m so happy.

I thought I would sleep with tears, but now, with joy.

I love you, Ariel❤️‍🩹.

See you at the next page🤎.

I woke up very early than usual. I couldn't find my seamless in my room. I rolled my eyes. I found out that my belongings weren't at Grandma's wardrobe. I was frightened. Hey, maybe I thought I was dreaming. I hit myself, but I could feel the flesh in me.

I stretched to my room window and saw a car. Its shape resonated with my dad's car. I was still unsure of it because it was 5 a.m. that morning, as I had an unclear image.

Little Sena gathered the courage to walk alone in the dark, as though she had a phobia of darkness. Then I stumbled across a chair in the parlor. It made my heart freeze. I shrank and stood still.

The parlor was big and wide. I used my hands as assistance, touching objects so I could reach anywhere.

But I saw something—an image sitting, resting its hand on its chin, focused on something beneath its arm. It got me scared. That's the sitting posture of my dad.

I squinted my eyes to have a clear vision, so I wouldn't go near. And I saw boxes.

Suddenly, the image changed posture, stood up, and started approaching me.

I shivered in fear and took several steps back. The unknown image turned on the light, and I screamed, “Mommy! Mommy! Grandma, help!”

The light turned on. The image was... the image was... the image was my dad.

I ran towards him and said, “Papa?”

He smiled and hugged me, threw me up twice, caught me, and spun me round. Such a lovely dad.

“But Dad, why did you scare me?”

“Scare? Did I?”

“Yes, Daddy, you did. I heard noises. That's why I had to check who is there. But wait, why are you here, though?”

Grandma walked in with my siblings, interrupting the conversation.

“Ko iye laide, iye vbsonnu.”

“What is it, my mother?”

“Dad is taking you all home today. Don't worry about your luggage, it's there, all arranged. Here's a lunch pack if you are starving.”

Grandma pushed me to the bathroom.

“Be fast, this girl. This girl. Don't be sluggish.”

I rolled my eyes.

As soon as I got to the bathroom, I closed my eyes while the shower drew me back to the past. And with a snap of a finger, I was just there. My mind had traveled elsewhere.

The knocking on the bedroom door, I didn't hear. My grandma, out of fear, pulled the bedroom door and saw me standing still.

Body present, mind absent.

She smacked my eyes, and I cried out loud. It really made me jump back to reality.

Nonetheless, I got dressed.

I had already made up my mind not to leave Grandma's house till August, and it's just May 26th.

“So let's go on. So let's go,” as my dad said.

“No, I'm not going anywhere.”

“Oh girl come here.”

My dad sat me on his lap and held my arms.

“Are you sure?”

I boldly said yes. I don't want to go home.

“Well, it's fine.”

After several discussions that got me bored out, they left me, and my dad left a token.

I watched the car take another lane.

I burst into tears, ran to my room, and wrote this.

I wrote this line:

“Why do I still have heavy in peace?

Why do I feel isolated but loved?

Why do I feel this burden will break me?

Why?”

I cried in silence and bled on my papers.

How I wish someone can explain and answer the question.

But at nine, I already realized that there’s nothing like a fairy godmother. Life had its ways.

No one to give you a magic dress..

No one to clean your tears…

Let's see Chapter 11.

What should happen to Sena at this time?

My mum is so sick and she needs utmost care but they (Mum and Dad) felt so lonely…so they needed our presence.

While Sena wasn't ready to go.

Though, she misses her parents so much but she had this feeling to stay at least for a while……

Sena sat at the parlor, being so bored , she had checked Tracy's house but seemed Tracy went to her mom's shop, Her siblings are exhausted and they're taking a lazy nap…

She was just there then an idea struck her head like a lightning.

Oh woah!

How come I forgot I had plans this holiday! - Sena exclaimed..

( As she tiptoed to her room, grabbed her backpack and ran to the parlor)……

Oh that was a safe mission -Sena said smiling.

She continuously searching for a note…..

Urghhh - Sena said giving off that tired energy.

Not until she saw a book…

Yess that book..The book.

She held the book, the book had fresh pages seemed it hasn't been used.

She saw something…

Her signature,the designs…and she held the book and hugged it tightly.

Well, it was the book her Dad gave her for the essay…..

She wasn't in a mood to write about science or anything academia….

She just wanted to write….

That urge and energy to explore the writing world and get lost in its valley and find peace in its expression and existence….

So little Sena, picked a pen and wrote on the first page…..

I'm Sena, a 9 year old girl that already understood life is beyond Disney shows…. Poetry is my world, it never judged nor left me….

I don't just write, I write me!!!

She noticed she was getting sober so she withdrew herself and took a deep breath…..

And then she birthed her first poem not out of perfection but our of her feelings - The pain, the little heartfelt moment.

Let's call this poem “The words I never said but wished to let out like butterflies”….

Sometimes I wished life was like a butterfly…

You move freely….

In the petals of lilies….

And then you flap your wings….

Not just showcasing your wins.

But because you have peace…

And oh to be like a butterfly!

It's unique patterns…

And every little wing shows what truly matters…

Oh to be a butterfly 🥺…..

Sena leaned her back at the sofa…continuously saying oh to be a butterfly!

Yess Sena do more of sleep talking, hope you're not a victim too…..

Repeated lines, mixed feelings and like a present, nature gifted her rest- sleep…

Uncle Paul walked in, he used the back door though…..

The closing door made me a bit scared though, since I perceived his perfume I drifted back immediately….

The house is so quiet what recipe did Grandma use this time - Uncle Paul said laughing in a sarcastic manner….

He saw my book and also my journal….he could identify my journal so he understood boundaries and didn't read it…but the book on my chest?? He will definitely cross the boundary permit me to say break the walls😂…

He read it and felt the weight my words carried, he looked at me and gave me a surprising stare.

Oh what a gifted child!

He exclaimed ……..

Just like what my Dad always do…..

I curled up and gave a faint smile……

Yesss even in my sleep…

9 year old Sena was weird feel free to romanctize her weirdness…….

Meanwhile, My siblings were already awake….

Dinner was ready,.they tried waking me up but that's one of my pet peeve….

Oh let me be!!

I wanna sleeppppppp- Sena muttered…

Every one was so shocked because it's so abnormal for me to sleep since afternoon and still feel free to sleep till dawn.

Let's see what happens next….

See ya….🤍

At my next page….🙈

Ooooohhh my gosh..... Sena woke up tirelessly yawning.... mm.

Her body had been so weak due to endless errands and too much play....

Alongside me, I saw my journal.

I wrote:

Hey journal...

It's me, Sena... yesssss, I survived.

Another day to sit, think, and maybe swim in the sea about things that don't worth the boat.

I miss Ariel sooo much.

I just have this feeling all isn't well, and I think she's angry with me. Besides, I haven't written any poem since holiday. Welll..... don't blame me.....

Just take me till I become tame.

Sighs.....

Hey Ariel,

I don't know where you are rn, maybe having some bikini fun or busy with your crafts, but a sweet reminder that I care, love, and miss you....

I think life is more than the Cinderella palace....

Life is more exploring than Dora the Explorer....

And I think you should choose yourself first, just like Sofia the First......

Come here, sweetheart...

You remember our promises, right....

Best friend forever....

Forever is too small for us......

How I wish life was simple as ABC. I still don't get why it's as scary as solving calculus, and its output is as weird as looking for x in an algebraic equation.

In all, just know my heart goes for you.....

I can't wait to see you next time.... and your gift, it's still with meee....

Well, after sunset, I will come back here to chitchat with you!

I was about to drop the journal when I heard a familiar sound..........

Akili... Akili......

I ran so fast!!

It was the TV news station. It was showing Akili.....

I was so excited because that's one of my best!

I quickly informed my siblings about it......

My aunt noticed we were paying too much attention to the TV, as if it gave us a bill.....

She went for me and quarreled with me for not doing house chores and the normal etiquette: greetings....

Well, I apologized and went back to the sitting room.

My grandma went to early service, so there's no way she could pull the roof with her voice!!!

Soon, food was ready....

Aunt Ann dished out our food, and we ate.

We were eating when I heard someone's phone ring.....

It kept on ringing, then I decided to go and check whose phone it was.....

It's Granny's phone.....

I was so shocked. Granny never forgets her phone. What must have happened this time?

I took the phone to the parlor since I had lost my appetite and didn't want to eat.

Then the number called again.

080******6718

Oh Daddy!

It's dadddddyyy...

I exclaimed with so much joyyy.

“Ko Daddy Layede...”

“Oh, my daughter, how're you doing?”

“I'm fine, Daddy. How's work?”

“Work is fine.....”

“Okay then.....”

“Uhmmm, Daddy, your voice sounds low. What happened?”

“Mum's sick..... I think you guys will come back home sooner than I expected.”

“Oh Daddy, how is she doing?”

“She’s fine...”

“Oh, wait, she caught the flu?”

“C'mon, don't be so negative. She just has a high fever.....”

“Okay, Daddy.....”

“So, my angel, how's Granny's place?”

“It's fine, Dad..... It's so cool and has this refreshing breeze.”

“Oh really, it's because of the trees around. You know Grandma lives in nature.....”

“Oh ye staggs, true Daddy........”

“So, my angel, how far have you gone with your essay?”

“Ummm, I'm going well.” (Sena lied.)

“Okay, angel..... I will call you back and probably talk to your siblings, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too, my angel.”

As I was about to go to Grandma's room to drop the phone.....

Grandma said, “Wait there!!!”

And I paused as if time has its malfunction......

“What're you doing with my phone? So you have started playing with phone, abi?”

“No, it's Dad that called....”

Arghhh! She misunderstood every single bit 😭.....

She got angry and started shouting that I pressed her phone since she forgot it at home.......

I got stoic at some point, but I couldn't control my memory from reminding me that my parents did the same too.......

Immediately, I fired back at her......

Uncle caught me and dealt with me.....

I cried and shamefully went to my room, then the regret began.....

She sat down, rested her hand on her chin, and began to wonder.....

This is not her.....

This can't be me.....

I've never done this....

I held my journal to my chest, and the river flowed as if it never had a brook.....

I sat there......

Maybe I shouldn't have spoken that way....

But she pushed me... she made me do it....

Argh, I feel so heartless rn.....

And then the first blackmail started.

I leaned my back on the wall......

Then I saw something: a picture box...

It had locked memories for years....

I quickly carried it since my hand could reach it...

It smelled old.....

Dust had covered the whole memories....

I turned page by page... until I found me.....

The little 2-year-old cheerful me.....

Although I'm 9....

But I still miss old things.....

I quickly arranged the photo album......

I held my picture thrice and left a kiss print....

Silly me forgot I would attract germs by doing such.....

Ouchhhh...... my ankle... the pain came from nowhere.....

Grandma, out of anger, had told every friend and family about me.....

I just felt like the bad granddaughter.

I held my journal....

I sat...

I cried...

I questioned....

I slept...

"Sleep is the best way to escape the pain of your reality."

The wall echoed...

Maybe she will get better?

Or even worse than a monster?

See you at my next page,

Sena.

Dear my first 100,

Waittt… 100?! 😭

I honestly don't know how to process this.

When I started writing here, I didn't know how many people would care enough to stop, read my words, and stay. I was just Sena, writing her thoughts, sharing her stories, and hoping that somewhere, somehow, someone would find a little piece of themselves in them.

And now, there are 100 of you. 🥹🤍

You may think 100 isn't a huge number, but to a young girl who once wondered if anyone would even read her work, 100 people is a whole crowd.

Thank you for subscribing.

Thank you for reading.

Thank you for liking, commenting, sharing, and even silently passing through my little corner of the internet.

Thank you for allowing me to grow in front of you.

I know I'm still learning. My vocabulary isn't perfect. My structure isn't always perfect. Sometimes my words come out messy, emotional, dramatic 😂, or completely chaotic. But you've stayed anyway.

And I hope you know this:

I'm only getting started. ✍🏽

There are more stories to tell, more lessons to learn, more pages to fill, and so many versions of Sena you haven't met yet.

So, to my first 100...

Thank you for being here at the beginning.

One day, when this little dream becomes something much bigger, I hope I can look back at this number and remember the people who were here when it was still small.

You were here before the crowd.

You were here before the noise.

You were here when it was just me, my words, and a dream.

And for that...

I will always be grateful. 🤍

With love,

Sena 🌷✍🏽

Arghhh, it's morning...

I picked up my journal and wrote:

"Hey, Diary, it's me, Sena. Finally, I'm at Granny's place. I pray I find the peace I have been searching for."

I closed it and dashed off to the living room, picked up a broom, and swept the whole compound. Meanwhile, my aunt had already woken up and was cooking a sumptuous meal in the kitchen.

The scent of the food drew me closer to the kitchen. Oh, silly little Sena. 😂

I bumped into my aunt, and she was shocked.

"Ko, Sister Layede." (A family traditional greeting.)

"Oh, Sena! When did you guys come?"

"We came yesterday, Aunt Ann."

(Before I continue our conversation...)

Watch closely. Let me introduce my relatives to you...

My aunt is Mrs. Ann Paul. She's married to my uncle (Granny's third son).

She's so beautiful, like gosh. God cooked, and my uncle ateee... 😂

She's expecting a child. She's a fashion designer and a God-fearing woman.

She does her things slowly but smartly.

She loves children, but don't cross her line, or else she smacks your ass...

And her husband, my uncle... urghhhh!

His name is Mr. Paul. He's a civil engineer and a pastor. He's strict and sticks to his words. He cares for children a lot, especially my siblings.

Well, he loves children more than he disciplines them.

Ouuu... Granny! We call her Iye. She's soooooooooooo caring, sooooooooooo lovely, and yes, she looks beautiful even in old age.

She talks a lot, oh...

She hardly beats a child. Her talks alone do the beating... Most times, she misunderstands us, especially ME.

She scolds a lot, and yes, she loves her grandchildren. We own a special place in her heart.

(Now you know them. Oya, let's continue...)

I left the kitchen and continued my house chores.

Later on, I brushed my teeth and went to the backyard.

There was this big soursop tree.

I looked at it and smiled.

It was so tall and had a lot of branches. I watched the way the leaves fell whenever the wind blew.

It had a deep meaning.

The leaf didn't fall because it was withered; it fell because it accepted the music of the wind.

I looked at the bark of the tree. It had a lot of marks and sap.

I placed my palm on it and felt its texture.

It wasn't smooth.

It had scars, yet it bore beautiful flowers.

Out of curiosity, I looked at the roots of the tree.

They were so hard, and some of them weren't deep. You could easily pull them away.

I never knew this was a life principle until I experienced it.

I walked around the whole backyard and sat down, staring at the sky and listening to the sweet sounds the hummingbirds made.

I spun around and smiled because nature had its way of welcoming peace...

Boom!

I fell.

Little Sena forgot she had a broken ankle.

I went inside the house, limping.

My grandma noticed and asked,

"Does it still hurt?"

"Yes, Granny," I replied.

"Oh, okay, dear. Once you're done eating, I'll use hot water to massage it," Grandma added.

"Okay, Iye," I said.

Breakfast was served, and trust me, it tasted good.

I cracked the beef bone and almost got choked by it...

Afterwards, I went to Tracy's house...

The only friend I had at my grandma's place.

She's fair, has plump lips, doe eyes, and a good personality.

She's nine too.

We both play in the sand, make sandcastles, and create fictional characters while acting dramas.

I went to her house and convinced her to come and play with me.

When she saw me, she was so excited and hugged me so tightly.

I gisted with her about the pandemic and how it scared me.

"Oh dear, you don't have to worry. Trust me, we're all safe," Tracy assured me.

We played and roamed around my grandma's house until her mum sent for her.

I knew it was already getting late.

It was sunset.

We watched the sun burrow into the clouds, smiled, and created characters with our shadows.

I got to my grandma's room.

We were having dinner, but I wasn't hungry, so I pretended to fall asleep.

I opened my journal and wrote:

"It hurts when they say, 'Go home,' but deep down, you have no place called home. Finally, I'm beginning to feel loved—not by friends, but by family.

I noticed the tree, and it had a lot of deep meanings. I hope I understand them someday."

I closed the journal and smiled...

See you at my next page...

It was sunrise. My alarm struggled to wake me up...

I lazily stood up, scratching my eyes as my vision was still blurry...

I woke up to see my box of clothes on the floor, my shoes scattered around, and my bedroom looking dirty.

"Karen!!!!!!"

"What is it???" Karen asked.

"What happened to my room?" Sena questioned.

"Urm, I'm as surprised as you are, though. Dad said we're going to Grandma's house today..." Karen said.

"Why???" Sena asked.

"Oh na, I don't know," Karen said as she playfully walked to the parlor to watch her cartoon series...

I gathered confidence and walked to my parents' room.

Knock, knock, knock!

Knock, knock, knock!!

I kept on knocking, but no one answered.

I grabbed the door handle and opened the door. No one was in there.

"Urghhhh! Where did they go to this time?" I grumbled...

I dashed to the balcony only to find my mum washing our pyjamas.

"Thank the heavens I found you!"

Sighs...

"Mum, what's going on? I heard..."

"Thank God you heard. Go and arrange those boxes and separate your casual outfits from your church outfits," Mum said.

She didn't even let me finish my statement. I walked up to my room and started arranging my boxes...

I was so tired and frustrated...

Pim... Pim... (Dad's car horn).

"Ahhh! Daddy is back! Daddy is here!" my siblings panicked and ran to their rooms.

Since I was done arranging my clothes, I went to the bathroom to bathe.

"Sena... Sena..."

My dad was calling!

"Sirrrrrr!!!" I answered while I was in the bathroom.

"Won't you come out of your room?"

I was so scared because I had already predicted the next scene. I hurried up with my bath and wore a shower gown.

I was running towards the parlor when I slipped and fell.

"Arghhhh!" Sena cried out loud.

I managed to get up and went to the parlor.

"Why are you just coming?" my dad asked.

"I was in the bathroom," Sena said.

"Okay, get a stool and sit on it," my dad added.

I struggled to get a joko (stool) to sit on.

My dad noticed and asked, "What happened to your leg?"

"Uhmm... ermmm... I fell," Sena said.

"You see yourself? You've started playing rough again, and now you've hurt your leg."

"Jayden!!!"

"Sirrrr!!!"

"Get me that rub. Let me massage Sena's leg," Dad said.

He massaged my leg while I cried in pain...

My teasing siblings came around and mocked me. Well, they were kidding, but it really hit hard...

On the other hand, my dad had already ordered my siblings to open the car boot. Since I was in pain, Mum assisted them in packing the boxes and other stuff.

I limped to my room to get my journal, but I stumbled across something I couldn't take my eyes off.

"The gift."

Do you remember that gift Ariel gave me?

I held the jewellery, and as I looked at it, my tears rolled down my cheeks.

I whispered,

"I found peace."

I grabbed it to my chest and walked out of my room.

Meanwhile, my dad had been waiting for me in the car. He kept honking, and as he was about to step out of the car, I rushed in and entered.

"What were you doing inside, huh?"

"Erm... I went inside to collect something," Sena replied.

"Sena! Sena!! Sena!!! How many times did I call you?"

"Three times, sir."

"Don't dare me, oh," my dad warned.The journey began!

My mum didn't follow us because she was a nurse and had morning shifts. She was already running late, though.

I rested my butt on the front seat. I admired every piece of nature; it was quite relieving...

My dad played traditional Edo songs. Although I couldn't understand the meaning, I danced to the tune of the culture.

"Daddy, look at that statue! It's so tall, and it's holding a shield," Sena said.

"Daddy, what does it represent?" Jayden asked.

"Oh, my children, y'all are really curious. Well, this statue traces back to history. That statue you see there was once a human—a strong and undefeatable Edo warrior!"

"Woah! He was Superman!" Jayden said.

"Eiiiiiiiii... You and the cartoons!!!" Karen exclaimed.

Dad got us popcorn, and nature was knocking, so I slept...

It was a four-hour journey. The traffic was so disturbing...

We got to Grandma's house. My dad stopped the car. Little Sena was just there sleeping. Dad woke me up, and I was so excited!!!

We ran to hug Grandma. She turned and danced, admiring our young faces.

"Wa ghe Osasenaga oh!" (Come and see Sena oh!) my grandma exclaimed.

I was smiling. I entered the parlor and saw two wide plates of pounded yam and egusi. My grandma indeed prepared for us...

My dad and Grandma gisted while we were eating.

As soon as he was about to leave, he called me, hugged me, and kissed my forehead.

"Goodbye, Daddy!!!!"

He zoomed offff!

I grabbed my journal and wrote,

"Today didn't start well, but at least it ended for my good."

I slept off while Grandma was telling us stories (moonlight series)...

See you at my next page,

Sena...

Two weeks after the announcement, my parents suggested that my siblings and I stay at my grandma's place throughout the holiday.

Well, I love my grandma's place because it's conducive, calm, and gives me this refreshing peace.

But my Dad was still contemplating when…

Few moments later...

I was watching the news with my Dad….

"Over 365,562 were diagnosed with the virus and over 100,000 patients had died…"

"Ewooo!" I exclaimed.

"What happened? Why are you shouting?"

(Oh, my Dad hates to be disturbed during the news programme.)

"See the number of lives lost na," Sena said, showing empathy.

Sighs.

"Well, my daughter, that's life for you. Tomorrow y'all will drink that agbo I made today," Dad said.

"Agbo? Hope it's not bitter oh," I asked.

"Don't you know that it's the bitter agbo that's effective?" Dad added.

(A quiz programme popped up on the TV.)

"Daddy seee, Daddy see!"

"Wukin!!!" (What? in Bini language.) Dad scolded.

(Well, my Dad is strict. Little things piss him off, but he's my favourite person despite the fact that he hurt me unknowingly.)

"Look at the television," Sena pointed at the TV.

"Oh, an essay competition!"

"Yes, Daddy... I can apply. It ranges from ages 9–15."

"Oh, my darling, I know you can do this. I've always believed in you," Dad praised.

(I felt loved, and I smiled from the inside.)

"Aaahh! ₦10,000 for the registration form!" Dad shouted in shock.

"It's quite expensive oh," I said.

"My Sena, I don't think I can afford it. I will try my best to help. However, I will get you a 40-leaf notebook to write in."

(I was sad, but since he said he was going to give me a book, I had assurance.)

"Thank you, Daddy," Sena said.

While I left for my room, I heard my name….

I stood up from my bed and stumbled my feet continuously on the floor. When I got to Dad's room, he sat me down, gave me the book, and advised me.

In his words, I managed to remember he said,

"Never give up, be that doctor you want to be, but be careful of who you call your friends."

I ran and hugged him, and he pecked my cheek… (the only man who has pecked my cheek)…..

He handed the book and a pen to me. I joyfully walked to my room.

Although he wasn't able to provide the competition form, he gave me a gift—it was all worth it………. - Sena's thoughts….

I slept offfff while journalling and woke up by 2 p.m…..

I dashed to the bathroom, washed my face, and I didn't dare look at the mirror.

Afterwards, I went to a neighbouring compound—a shop. I had three friends there.

Marvellous…

Success…

Wisdom…

"What's up, y'all?" Sena greeted.

"Anything for me?" Marvellous asked…

(Sena smiled.)

"Nothing really," Sena replied…

(Let me quickly describe my house friends.)

Success: She's the eldest of all. She was 14 when I was 9. Oh my! The age gap.

She's the ambiverted type. She talks when necessary but loves one fully. If she hates you, she hates loudly.

Stanley: The talkative type. He talks to the extent that 60% of what he says is not true. He's playful and sometimes not trustworthy.

Marvellous: He's the open type, friendly and free with all genders, especially the feminine gender. He's Success's younger sibling.

We were all gisting and laughing…..

After much giggling and gist, I finally informed them about my promotion to Basic Five.

Had I known I was falling into a well I dug myself?

How I wish I could foretell the future.

"Hmmm, na wa oh," Success said.

"It will affect you in the future even though you're intelligent," Marvellous added.

"Why are y'all despising my promotion?" Sena asked.

"Ehnehn, wait. Not that we're against or envying your promotion. We're just advising you. That's what true friends do," Wisdom added.

"Okay ooo," Sena said reluctantly.

"Seeeennnnnaaa!" (Mum was calling.)

I ran as fast as my feet could carry me and followed the backyard to answer my mum.

I knew I was doomed because she had warned me not to stay at my friend's shop till sunset.

"Maaaaaa!!!!"

"Were you daft?" Mum scolded.

"No... yes ma," Sena replied, shivering.

As soon as I heard my Dad's footsteps, I drifted slowly to the curtain and hid myself.

"Why are you just coming?"

It seemed my Dad wasn't angry as I expected.

My Dad apologized to Mum, and she accepted.

My mum dragged me to the kitchen….

Urghhhh!

The kitchen wasn't really my thing.

I had to accept my fate since I escaped a beating.

When I was done with my chores and had dinner, I went straight to bed, recalling the sentence my friends said earlier that day….

I wrote it down in my journal…

Maybe because I was feeling insecure.

Maybe?

I closed my journal and smiled, believing the holiday would be full of laughter. Little did I know that those words my friends spoke would soon become the beginning of another chapter of my life.

See you at my next page,

Sena 💌

Wednesday morning, during assembly, the Principal walked in. Every student and pupil turned calm as if an angel was passing by….

Well, as for me, I was just there as usual. Heaven knows what speech he's giving this timeee… Cause his speeches are always long… way longer than someone's tribute… lol.... (9 year old aggressive Sena)....

The assembly coordinator had to rush things over and create space for the Principal to talk….

Principal (clears throat)...

Good morning, students…..

Good morning, Principal, Bursar, HM, good morning teachers and my fellow students… Everyone replied in response.

Urghhhh! As if the rest of the people mentioned were worth the greeting…

Principal: Well, I came here to inform you that the school session is over until further notice….

(Everyone cheering)

Others crying out… "Oh, I'm going to miss my bestie!" "Oh why!" "I will spend the holiday to the fullest!!"

All this noise and excitement was disturbing!

It caused me headaches, heartache, and every other ache!

Out of anger I questioned…

Sir!

Sir!!

What is the reason for the sudden school closure……

The teachers, prefects and even the Principal looked at me…

I was looking for attention and ended up being the centre of attraction!

"Wow, you're such a smart and intelligent girl." The Principal said.

"Hmmmm... seems she pulled the crowd with her charm this time." Treasure scoffed!

"Well, it's so weird and sarcastic how you are moved by what I said without minding to know the cause or its detriments," the Principal said.

"However, there's a pandemic roaming round the world right now. It's called Coronavirus," the Principal added.

Immediately, my ears rang as if they knew I needed them at this point.

Coronavirus was a disease affecting people across the world. It killed people as fast as snapping your fingers, and the best way to prevent it was to abide by the Coronavirus rules, the Principal further explained.

"Coronavirus rules? That's silly," a student mocked.

The assembly was dismissed after his long but necessary speech.

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We were given a lot of holiday assignments and projects because the school was on a total shutdown.

"I will miss you soo much, my dear Sena." Ariel held me tight, refusing to let go.

I cried and grabbed her arms tightly as if I knew that would be the last time I would touch them….

She gave me letters and I kept reading them even when I was in school.

So what are you doing with this holiday? Ariel asked.

Uhm, I think I will just try to be productive. Sena scoffed.

"C'mon, you can't do this every time. Don't you get bored?" Ariel said.

"Bored, you say? Isolation is my own kingdom and I rule it!" Sena replied.

"Oh, you wanna feel isolated when I'm here? It's fine… it's fine." Ariel added.

"No. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Sena apologized.

"I have a plan. Why don't you write short stories and decorate them?" Ariel said.

Sena paused and sighed.

"You know how to play with words. You know that's the main reason teachers are attracted to your essays!" Ariel persuaded.

"I've heard." Sena said.

"Ouch, you wanna hurt me again! I was only trying to help... I will not play with you again." Ariel sniffed and walked away.

Sena ran towards her and Ariel smiled….

"Please, Sena, make a pinky promise you will do this for me." 🥺 Ariel begged.

"Alright, I will, Ariel. I promise to write fantasy and folktales too!"

"That's my Sena! Then we will write about Cinderella and a lot of Disney princesses! Yayyyy!" Ariel said in excitement.

We sat in the hallway gisting and talking about visiting relatives during the holiday…

Pim… pim… pim… pimm… (Ariel's Dad's horn)

"Oh, that's my Dad! I gotta go!"

We hugged so tight, exchanged letters and she left.

I watched her enter the car and keep waving her hands…. I shook my head, and tears dropped. This time, it wasn't because I was hurt but because I felt loved.

That feeling you have when someone occupies a big space in your heart!

After walking around the school for what felt like forever, my mum came, apologized for coming late, and we zoomed home….

"Tighten up your seat belts, okay!" Mum cautioned.

"Okay," I replied softly.

I picked up my journal and wrote poems…and this is when my writing journey began❤️‍🩹

I bled on my journal papers and for the first time, I felt peace and smiled while closing the journal.

Maybe this peace was just a preparation for the chaos ahead……

The traffic jam was so crazy that I slept off in the car…….

Let's see how the next day goes…..

See you at my next page,

Little Sena 🤍

Come closer.

Yes, you.

Don't worry.

I won't bite. 😂

I just noticed something.

Actually...

It wasn't just something.

It was a feeling I couldn't ignore.

And I have a feeling you've felt it too.

Comparison.

Yes.

Comparison.

What's comparison?

Comparison is the act of measuring yourself, your qualities, your progress, or your life against someone else's.

Or let me put it this way...

It's like measuring your Chapter One with another person's published book.

Sounds unfair, right?

Exactly.

Yet we do it all the time.

We compare our beginning to someone else's middle.

Our behind the scenes to someone else's highlight reel.

Our unanswered prayers to someone else's testimonies.

And somehow, we expect ourselves to feel enough.

Anyways

Let me tell you a story………………

There's this one girl.

Beautiful.

She had big dreams.

She also wrote poetry.

People silently admired her.

Others openly envied her.

But that's not even the point.

She felt like she was never enough.

She was in SS1.

She was usually among the top three in a class of thirty.

She had a positive circle.

And her heart?

It was a heart of gold.She had dreams.

Yes.

But every time she tried to take a step forward, her emotions played with her and threw her into the trash.

Every single time.

She kept measuring her abilities against other people's.

People called her the best.

But she never believed them.

Deep down, she did not see herself that way.

So no matter how many compliments came from the outside, they never found their way into her heart.

Let's call her Cyria.

Cyria came from an average Nigerian family.

She was just an ordinary girl.

One day, she sat quietly, thinking about her life.She sat quietly and picked up her journal.

Then she started writing down every goal she had not accomplished.

One...

Two...

Three...

She kept writing.

When she was done, she stared at the page.

"Ahhhhh..."

"Ten goals!"

she screamed.

She dropped the pen and sighed.

"Why does it feel like everyone else is moving except me?”She felt stuck.

Immobile.

Why?

Not because she was not moving.

But because she was measuring her life.

This time, comparison crept in alongside envy.

It had built a cage.

Heavy chains.

The kind used to chain stubborn dogs you can relate abii.

And glue..

Glue to keep her stuck..

She was watching her WhatsApp status.

"Blessing got a scholarship."

Ahhh... na wa.

All her classmates were reposting the status and congratulating her.

And Cyria was just there...

She sent a congratulatory message.

But deep down, she felt bad.

"She's an average student...

And me that my brain is just hereeee...

What's really wrong?"

Cyria thought.

She just closed WhatsApp.

Then she went to TikTok, scrolling through random pages.

She came across a podcast.

It was so nice that she decided to follow the page.

(Just like the way you're reading this... don't forget to subscribe!! 😂)

She followed the page and found out it was her best friend who owned the account.

"What's going on??

So Glory has a podcast, and we never talked about it?"

She quickly went back to her own page.

260 followers.

110 likes.

Then she went back to Glory's page.

5k likes.

3k followers.

It was so...

So...

So disheartening for her.Cyria came to school the next day...

After crying and wishing for another person's chapter.

It was time for Mathematics.

She had already read the topic two weeks before it was taught.

Mr. Ricky walked into the class with one bombarding question...

And a threat.

I gathered confidence, picked up my marker, and solved it.

He looked at it and smiled.

I understood that smile.

Then he started asking more questions.

Another student stood up.

Cyria's friend.

She solved it too.

"Ouuuu..."

She got it.

Mr. Ricky praised her.

Immediately, Cyria felt like she was not enough.

And that was how her life went.

Comparing herself with other people's qualities.

She never participated in anything at school.

She was even scared of holding a pen to write.

Boom!

Her life just kept going like that.So this time, Cyria was scared of trying new things.

She kept comparing her life with social media.

Comparing her life with her friends.

Her circle even became smaller because she could not relate with anyone anymore.

Comparison had brought jealousy.

Hatred.

And resentment.Until one day...

She came across a sermon.

She just scrolled past it.

But her conscience kept pricking her.She had no choice but to obey her conscience.

She scrolled back and heard something that struck her.

The speaker said,

"For something to be compared means it is being measured.

And comparison leads to misalignment."

She cried so hard.

Those words kept crossing her mind.

Let me just say she was like Esther in that moment.

"If I perish, I perish."

She was not just fed up.

She was missing her purpose because of comparison, fear, and envy.

She made a promise.

She picked up her journal.

And maybe...

Just maybe...

She escaped the reality of comparison.

She realized she had already become a slave to the devil.

The voices no longer disturbed her.

She felt peace.

At last.

Now...

Over to you.

That was Cyria's story.

Or maybe...

That was our story.

Let's finally deal with comparison.

The dictionary may define comparison as the act of measuring one thing against another.

But I define it differently.

Comparison is the habit of measuring your life against someone else's timeline.

It is measuring your Chapter One with another person's published book.

It is looking at someone else's harvest while forgetting they planted long before you did.

Comparison itself is not always evil.

Sometimes it can push you to improve.

It can inspire you to work harder.

It can remind you that growth is possible.

If someone else's success makes you say, "If God did it for them, He can do it for me too," then comparison has become inspiration.

But the moment comparison changes from inspiration to identity, it becomes dangerous.

You stop celebrating your own progress.

You become blind to your own growth.

You begin to measure your worth by someone else's achievements.

And that is a prison.

Comparison whispers lies.

"You're behind."

"You're not good enough."

"Look at them. Why can't you be like them?"

Little by little, those whispers become beliefs.

Then those beliefs become chains.

Soon, you are no longer living your life.

You are living in competition with everyone else's.

Social media makes it even worse.

Someone gets engaged.

Someone buys a new car.

Someone wins an award.

Someone travels abroad.

Someone starts a business.

Someone graduates.

Someone gets verified.

Someone goes viral.

And suddenly, you forget the blessings sitting quietly in your own life because you're too busy counting someone else's.

The truth is...

You were never created to copy another person's assignment.

Imagine a fish trying to become an eagle.

Or a sunflower trying to bloom like a rose.

Both are beautiful.

Both have purpose.

But comparison would convince them that they are failures simply because they were looking at the wrong standard.

Galatians 6 verses 4 and 5 tells us to examine our own work and not compare ourselves with others. Each of us has been given our own responsibility, our own race, and our own story.

And 2 Corinthians 10 verse 12 warns us that those who compare themselves with one another lack wisdom.

Think about that.

God did not call comparison wisdom.

He called it foolishness.

So today, I want to ask you...

Whose life have you been using as a ruler to measure your own?

Who made you believe that your journey had to look exactly like theirs?

Healing begins the moment you stop asking,

"Why am I not like them?"

and start asking,

"Lord, who have You created me to become?"

Because purpose is never found in comparison.

It is found in obedience.

And trust me...

Your story is too beautiful to spend your whole life wishing it looked like someone else's….

The First Comparison

Have you ever wondered where comparison really began?

It didn't begin on Instagram.

It didn't begin on TikTok.

It didn't even begin in your classroom.

It began in the garden.

The serpent approached Eve and planted a dangerous thought.

"What if you could be like God?"

In that very moment, contentment gave way to desire.

Instead of trusting what God had already given her, she began reaching for what was never hers to take.

Comparison has always sounded like this:

"Why can't I have what they have?"

"Why am I not where they are?"

"What makes them different from me?"

That voice has been around since the beginning.

It doesn't come to encourage you.

It comes to make you dissatisfied with the life God has given you.

Even Satan fell because he desired a position that did not belong to him.

He was not content with the place God had given him.

He wanted more.

He wanted God's throne.

Comparison has never produced peace.

It has always produced pride, envy, dissatisfaction, and destruction.

That is why 2 Corinthians 10 verse 12 says that those who compare themselves with one an

other are not wise.

Comparison is not the voice of the Spirit.

It is the voice that constantly whispers,

"Who you are is not enough."

But God has never spoken that language.

He has always called you His workmanship, created with purpose, value, and identity.

So the next time comparison knocks...

Do not entertain it.

Answer it with truth….

If you have any thoughts or questions about this please shareeee……you all matters…

Dearest Senaaa🤍💘

I came back from school that day thinking I had already had enough.

I was tired.

The incident that happened in school was still fresh in my mind, and all I wanted was to rest.

But immediately I got home, Dad called for a family meeting.

My dad, Mr. Andrew, was a politician. A political aspirant, to be precise. He was strict but sweet. He was caring and a man of his word. His "no" was always a no.

I sat down alongside my siblings, Celine, Hope, Karen, and Jaden. We all called him Big J.

I kept wondering, Why is Dad calling for a family meeting?

Then he looked at me.

"The principal called me today," he said.

I frowned.

The principal?

What was the principal calling my dad for?

I had no issue with the principal.

So why was he calling my dad?

Dad continued.

"The principal and the HM spoke to me. They have been noticing you. They said you are intelligent, and they want you to write a promotional external examination."

I was like, "Wow."

Deep down, it was something they wanted but something I never wished for.

I was not ready to stay, and I was not ready to leave.

But I had no choice except to obey.

Everyone was excited about my success.

They kept saying, "She is intelligent. Finally, she is going to be promoted."

Then Mum spoke.

"I'm so happy," she said. "But will this not affect her in the future?"

For a second, I smiled.

Finally.

Someone was standing by my side.

Or so I thought.

Little did I know she was talking about my education, not how I felt.

Dad assured her that everything would be fine. After talking for a while, they both agreed that I would write the examination.

That was it.

The decision had been made.

No one asked what I wanted.

No one asked if I was ready.

I just sat there, staring at their faces and listening to their conversation.

I felt like my opinion did not matter.

But then again...

What was the need of talking when no one would listen?

So I simply nodded.

"Okay."

That was all I could say.

I quietly stood up and walked to my room.

As soon as I closed the door, the tears came.

For the second time that day, I cried.

I did not even know what to say.

So I picked up my journal.

It understood me.

It understood the tears I could never explain.

My hands felt too heavy to carry all the pain in my heart.

God saw my heart.

But at that time, I did not really know Him.

I was just there.

Broken.

Rejected.

Dejected.

I had no idea that the class I was about to enter would become a lion's den.

When I finally stopped crying, I sniffed and started counting the ceiling. At least it made me feel a little better.

Since I did not have a smartphone yet, I could not listen to music.

Music was my therapy anyway.

So there I sat.

They called us for dinner, but I was not interested in eating.

I did not want dinner at that point.

Mr. Andrew got angry.

He screamed and shouted.

"Why do you never choose to eat with your siblings? You are always fond of doing this. You just want to live your life alone, right? You want to keep avoiding them?

"Okay, let's see. If I catch you eating alone in this house today, you will not eat at all."

I just looked at him.

"Stop pretending. Wipe those tears and come downstairs."

My siblings were just there, trying to stay quiet because they knew that whenever the lion started roaring, someone would definitely become the victim.

I was hurt.

I had already made up my mind to sleep with an empty stomach.

But then I remembered my health condition.

So I went downstairs and ate.

Five spoons were enough.

At least they saw me eating.

I...

I did not even know what to say.

But it hurts when your own people open old scars without even knowing they are doing it.

I lay on my bed.

Tick... tock... tick... tock... tick... tock...

That was the song the clock had been singing since 12 a.m.

Yes.

A nine year old girl was still awake.

Doing what?

This was not a nightmare.

It was my thoughts.

My fear of tomorrow.

Sounds weird and alarming, right?

But that is what happens when you become familiar with pain at such a young and timid age.

I listened to the silence of the night.

It really kept me wondering.

That meant even darkness did not have to show itself.

It spoke when the time was right.

And yep...

I felt dizzy.

I could not cheat nature this time.

But it was too late.

4 a.m...?!

When Mum would come and spank me with her sandals by 6 a.m.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

I started counting sheep.

One...

Two...

Three...

I cannot even remember when sleep finally came.

Before I could count the last sheep...

The alarm rang.

The day could not wait for me.

I opened my eyes.

I had a banging headache, and ahhh... the eye bags were too bad.

Let's see how Tuesday would go.

After the presentation was over....she dealt with the 4 pupils sparring me... I'm as curious as you though because Mrs Tina never showed mercy ..

Maybe it was meant to happen

Or maybe she felt calm addressing me.

See me in the staff room NOW!

Mrs Tina walked majestically to the Teachers room as I followed her steps gently.

I stood by the door,and greeted the teachers waiting, (maybe I felt not welcomed). Will you get out from there and come inside....mrs Tina cautioned...

Erm,erm, sorry mam( I said in a low stuttering voice). Take a seat Mrs Tina said.m.

This one she's calm , hope I'm safe( I thought)..ok mam, I sat on the stool.

While I was staring at her movements......she removed her glasses and questioned.....

Is everything okay with you at home?

Yes ma'am, everything is fine - I replied without hesitation...

She noticed the fear of expressing..she drifted slowly, dropped her cane and held my palm......

What I could feel was assurance, oh 9 year old me still scared of cane.......

Speak to me with sincerity are you ok?

Then my heart froze not because I'm scared this time.....I couldn't express how I feel, I sat down, continuously rolling my eyes, rubbing my palm against each other ...she understood my feeling, she could see the blurry image of the burden I'm sorry...

She didn't force me,she didn't pressure nor question me anymore.... instead she pulled me to her arms,and cuddled me....I felt relieved....

She knew that I had passion for education and I won't be found lagging and indulging in non-chalant student...all she whispered to my ear ; Stay fine, stay safe,stay calm and be you!

Upon hearing this, the 9 year old me burst into tears, the hidden pain became revealed but the cause wasn't found .....

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I left the staff room and headed to my class.....Ariel has been disturbed since assembly, it was obvious it's because of me...

Immediately, she saw me around the corridors she hopped and spun me round...well I acted fine...all I was wishing "let this cup pass me God".....

Hmmmmmm(treasure clears throat)...

Ariel understood their body language and she reacted immediately War for those who don't deserve peace......

Ooh I see you're trying to protect Mrs Tina new princess....Tyla scorned

Ariel stepped forward immediately...

"If you think intimidating her makes you better, then you're the weakest among us!" She fired.

Treasure laughed and folded her arms.

"Ooo...look who's talking. Her personal bodyguard."

"Say whatever you want about me, but leave Sena alone!" Ariel snapped.

Within seconds, the atmosphere became tense.

Classmates gathered around us.

"Fight! Fight!!"

Tyla took a step closer.

"You think we're scared of you?"

Before I knew what was happening, both of them moved toward each other.

"No...Ariel!" I shouted.

Without thinking, I rushed in between them.

Everything happened so fast.

A hand pushed.

Another pulled.

I lost my balance.

"Ouch!"

I felt a sharp sting around my neck.

The whole class suddenly became quiet.

"Sena!" Ariel screamed.

"I'm...I'm fine," I said immediately, touching my neck.

When I looked at my fingers, BLOOD!! I quickly cleaned them on my skirt before anyone noticed.

"It's nothing."

The teachers arrived almost immediately after hearing the noise.

Questions were flying everywhere.

"What happened here?"

"Who started it?"

Everyone talked at once.

I simply lowered my head.

"I don't know, ma."

The school was aware that I got hurt, but I insisted I was okay.

A few minutes later, Mum arrived.

She looked worried the moment she saw me.

"Let's go home."

I nodded quietly.

The journey home was silent.

I rested my head against the car window, watching houses pass by as though the world was moving and I wasn't.

Later that night...

I picked up my diary.

Dear Diary,

Today, I learnt that some people will fight for you...

Some people will hurt you...

And some people will hug you without asking for your story.

I don't know which one hurts the most.

But maybe...

Just maybe...

Tomorrow won't be as heavy as today.

Goodnight.

- Sena

I closed the journal and drifted off to Dreamland to escape my reality for a while ..

That's the least I could do!

Let's call this one the little meee(Sena)..

A beautiful morning but never promising a good day, I woke up very stressed and feeling feverish.

Let's call this one the little meee( Sena).

I picked up my diary and wrote

Dear diary,

“It’s a new day wish me well”

It's sounds normal but those words really carried weight….

Before I could drop my journal, Mum walked in and said “you won't go to school today right”

I had been so stressed that I even forgot I'm going to school…urghhhh it's Monday….I mumbled and frowned….

I dashed to my bathroom,and dressed up for school….I glanced at the dressing mirror and all I could see was a broken 9 year old girl hoping for a change….. I look so uglyyyy - I cried out.

Sena!

Sena!!

Sena!!!

Mum screamed, mummy I'm coming - I replied shaking…

I ran downstairs and went to the dinning table, exchange greetings and stayed calm while eating. Dad noticed something off about me so he asked Sena are you okay?

I'm fine - my usual lie… He wasn't convinced but he understood the consequences of forcing communications with meeeee…..

My mum packaged my foodpack and I went to school…..

I got to school, walked to my seat.

Essss Tomboy….Ariel called

That's what they call me in school..

I raised up my head lowly from my desk and gave a fake smile…She felt something unusual..

Ariel walked to my seat and she started talking to me….

Well Ariel is my close friend; The only who supports me since my classmates are all against meeeeee….

Ariel: Sena how was your weekend?

Sena: It was okay.. how was yours?

Ariel: it went so smoothly……umm did you do your assignment don't forget we're presenting it today…

Sena: Aaaaaaahhh!!!!! Presentation keh…I can't even remember the details of the article I wrote.

Ariel: But if I help you out, I can………

School bell rings

Sena: ummm, it's fine let's rush downstairs…

8:30am……

Assembly was over….

I couldn't wait for Ariel so I decided to go to my classroom alone not until I meet this frustrating duets…..

Meet Tyla and Treasure…..People call them double T…

Here she comes - Tyla raised the alarm!!

Let's make welcome, The queen of bony fish - Treasure mocked

I just looked and walked away, I'm definitely used to their mockings…

I picked up my journal again and wrote….

Dear diary,

Is it my fault I'm born this way, why can't I be attractive, a lil bit chubby, why can't I be good enough for everybody….
Why was I even born?

Endless question roaming on my mind, it still hurt no one will answer…

Few minutes after I escaped the wrath of my words...

Mrs Tina walked innn…

She is my Class Teacher…Mrs Tina nags a lot, she's strict and also caring…Her friendly attributes are likely to be on a scale.

And her face?

Olurun mogbe……. It's never approachable it's scary more like giving you that bad feeling that's hard to nudge out.

Koi…koi..koi..koi.koi..koi (The sound of her black heels that seems inherited)

Pupils started arranging their seats, picking dirt and dressing up properly…

For me I don't dread her I've seen more than enough to even fear her strict actions.

So I remained silent, still on my seat, staring at the pale wall and resting my face on my jaw.

Good morning students!

Everyone stood up and greeted her….

For me,I was just there on my seat wondering the cracks on the pale wall and trying to relate it with mine.

Nosakhare!!!

Nosakhare

Sena!!

Sena!!

Everyone jaw dropped!

No one dares to be absent minded in Mrs Tina class…..

Before I could travel back….

I heard a whip, this time this pain was real - physical…

Ouchhhh!!! I screamed ….

If you want to think about your children in my class then you can make use of the door - Mrs Tina scolded.

I'm sorry mam it won't happen next time - Trying to be apologetic…..

It won't happen next time you say, it keeps happening hahhahahaha - Treasure said..

I didn't care, I held my back and tried to give it a faint massage, the cane hurt me so much.

So class, submit your assignments, presentation is starting now!!!

My ear rung….

My mind drifted…

Deep down I know I'm doomed!

No excuse..

I know I couldn't escape the mess so I didn't submit.

So y'all decided to play games with me…..if you hear your name just come out..

Adebayo Daniel…

Jordan John !

Dele Emmanuel !

Akhere Joy!

Obinna Rita!

Nosakhare Faith!

I stood up and walked up to my crew(others who didn't do the assignment).

Mrs. Tina adjusted her glasses and looked at the line of students before her.

"Since all of you have decided that my assignment wasn't important..."

She paused.

"I'll make sure none of you ever forget today."

My heartbeat echoed louder than the silence in the classroom.

Maybe coming to school today was my biggest mistake.

Maybe it just fate….

Maybe …maybe…

You.

I don't know your name.

I don't know where you're reading this from. Maybe you're lying on your bed, avoiding sleep. Maybe you're in a noisy café with earphones plugged in. Or maybe you're just another stranger who stumbled across this page while scrolling.

Either way, thank you for staying.

Before I tell you my story, I think you deserve to know who's talking to you.

My name is Osasenaga also known as Sena.

I'm fourteen years old, and I have always believed that words remember what people try to forget.

That's probably why I write.

Writing has always been the one place where I don't have to pretend I'm okay. My notebook never interrupts me. It never tells me I'm overthinking. It never asks me to "move on." It simply listens.

Maybe that's why you're here too.

Maybe you're carrying something you've never said out loud.

Or maybe you're just curious about a girl whose story somehow found its way to your screen.

Either way, welcome.

I think every story has a beginning.

Mine didn't begin on the day everything fell apart.

It began on a bright October morning in 2011.

The room filled with the sound of a baby's first cry. Outside, relieved smiles spread across tired faces. Family members exchanged hugs. Congratulations flowed from every corner. Another little girl had entered the world.

To everyone standing there, I was hope wrapped in a tiny blanket.

They looked at me and imagined birthdays, school uniforms, dreams, laughter, and a future filled with endless possibilities.

No one imagined the roads I would one day walk.

No one imagined the questions I would one day ask.

No one imagined the version of me who would sit years later, staring at a blank page, wondering if strangers could ever understand a heart they've never met.

But here we are.

This isn't a story about perfection.

It's a story about surviving, breaking, growing, questioning, and learning that even when life changes you, it doesn't get to write your ending.

So...

If you're willing to walk with me, turn the page.

I'll tell you everything I can.