Creative Writing · Hope · Inspiration - Motivation · Love · Musings

God gave me something..

loveofgodHe gave us eyes, that we might behold the splendor of his creativity; That we might see each other beyond the peripheries of physical vision. Sometimes we look, but we do not really see.

He gave us mouth that we may praise him; That we may give voice to the thoughts of our hearts; That we may speak words that bring life, succor, strength; That we may speak words that edify.

He gave us ears that we may listen and understand; That we may hear and filter through the turbulence of life; That we may hear his voice whisper in our hearts, through the sights and sounds of the beauty that surrounds us.

He gave us heart that we may feel; That we may have a depth of emotions that understands, that loves, that empathizes, that endures. A heart that can be faithful, courageous and kind. May our hearts not harden that we lose every sense of love, of joy, of peace, of empathy and reason.gods-love never runs out

He gave us brain that we may reason with wisdom and understanding; That we may use the abundance of talents to his glory;That we may gain and disseminate productive knowledge.

He gave us hands that they be busy and not idle; That they are productive and profitable; That they are helping hands to raise up, to mold and not to push down.

He gave us legs that we may walk tall in Faith, Grace, Hope and Dignity; That we may stand tall in the face of adversity; That we may flee from dangers and issues that lead to destruction.

He gave us a fully functional body, in his image and likeness and for His Glory.

Today, I stand tall and proclaim that I am/You are/We are masterpieces of the ultimate craftsman; and nobody can tell me differently.

God gave me everything….

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Nota bene: Welcome to July 1st

Creative Writing · Inspiration - Motivation · Love

A sleepless night..

happy couple

She giggled softly, speaking in hushed tones as she ambled off to the restroom with her phone held to her ears.
Felix watched her vanishing back and swaying hips with a frown on his face. In the past few weeks, he noticed that Monica’s phone had been pinging and ringing off the hook; though it was now on vibration mode.
It went off every few seconds and she would rush to pick it up, finding an excuse to leave the vicinity for a private enclosure. She was not a phone addict before. Something had changed seriously. As a matter of fact, he noted that a whole lot had changed.
Her dressing was more careful, floral and feminine in newer outfits which accentuated her marginal weight loss and new shape. She preened more than ever and appeared far more confident in her own skin. These days, she barely bothered to argue with him and floated in a self-contained sheen of private satisfaction with a glint in her eyes.

As he reviewed the subtle but obvious changes, his thoughts twitched curiously. He was curious enough to want to know what Monica’s new source of change was. Her exuding radiance and delight in playing African hip-hop songs on her headphones which were on constant shuffle were all novel to him.

Flushing the toilet for the umpteenth time that Saturday afternoon, she stepped out, looked into the vanity mirror, patted her weave and teased her wavy curls into place.

“Are you having a bad tummy?” Felix asked.

“No, I am not”, she responded.

“You seem to spend so much time in the loo these days, that I wondered if something is wrong”, he pointed out.

She was a bit taken aback by his observation, but she kept quiet.

Right on cue, her phone went brr, brr in her pocket, though she chose to ignore it.

”If you can manage to peel yourself from your phone chatting for a short while, I am still hungry, so make me something to eat” he ordered her without as much as a please.

His curiosity was greatly piqued and the suspicion which had taken root in his mind was equally pulling at his heartstrings. He needed to get to the bottom of her infernal active phone.

As they retired to bed that night, he could barely shut his eyes, and as Monica snored in deep sleep, he sneakily unplugged her phone which was charging by her bedside and went into the restroom to peruse through it. To his surprise, it was locked. Disappointed and miffed, he returned it to her bedside but deliberately left it unplugged.

Sunday morning dawned with the brightness of the early morning sun streaming in through the window blades. As Monica got dressed to go to church with the children – since Felix had gradually stopped attending church service, it was a surprise to find him dressing up to go with them. It was either he chose to sleep in due to spending a late night out with friends or his new found scientific knowledge which had gradually overtaken his spiritual belief stood in his way and she was tired of fighting a battle that only seemed to widen the rift between them.

For over five years, she had looked on in envy at couples in church who seemed to be handling their union in a better fashion, even though she did not know what happened behind their closed doors.

She had prayed and fought to renew the vigor and excitement of their union but nine years of togetherness had lost its flavor and Felix was more interested in the young University girls who were never in short supply.

Another surprise followed the church service. He decided to take his family out for brunch at Symphony. Monica could not recall when last they dined out or went out together except for a family friends wedding or burial. Every time she made mention of time out with him, he would glower, remind her how difficult money was to come by, yet he was never broke on Friday night out with the boys. She gave up bothering after some time.

The constant little buzz of her phone which was lying on the table was driving needles of increased interest into Felix as he watched through lowered eyelids to see if she would open her phone so that he can phish her password, but she seemed less inclined to respond.

The dance of the snake and its charmer continued for several days and as each day passed Felix got more twisted in his gut with the burning desire to grab his wife’s phone. He noted minutiae details in her expressions and contorted meanings into every thing. He even started coming home a little earlier, hoping to catch her in the act of unfaithfulness as he was inclined to believe.

Eventually, he got lucky. Whilst she was in the kitchen preparing dinner, he lingered, commenting on the savory aroma emanating from the soup pot. Monica was unsettled, her mind was curious as to the turn of events in recent times. Felix would normally sit in the living room, flipping through the sports channels on TV, his feet put up on the center table and he will be bellowing his orders from that distance; but here he was, in her kitchen, making idle conversation. Her phone beeped, and she absentmindedly keyed in her password, it was her sister Benedicta calling for some information.

He had stored the password in his memory bank and that night as she slept, he sneaked once again into the restroom with her phone clutched in his clammy hands and his heart thudding faster than usual. His imaginations had run riot over these past few weeks, and he was not sure of what to expect, but he was fishing for sufficient evidence to nail her.

Opening her phone, he carefully scanned through her emails, her Facebook page and messenger, her Black Berry Messenger, WhatsApp, and text messages. It was a surprise to know that his wife had a twitter account, a Google+ account and instagram. He had no idea she was up to date with social media and he had practically forgotten how intelligent she was.

He wondered when his boring woman turned into a sexy mama when he looked at all the alluring pictures that she had on her pages. His eyes nearly popped out of its sockets whilst reading through the various chats that she had online with interested gentlemen.

Marveling at the obvious budding online romance she was having with a certain Jay Black; and Jay Black was a divorced handsome bastard with flat muscled abs to boot! His jealous heart felt twinges of pain and he bristled in anger. He couldn’t wait to attack her.

He quickly opened her online private diary and voraciously assimilated its contents.

He read her prayers for him and their children.

He read her doubts in him and her loneliness; not only when he traveled on business trips, but even when he was around.

He learnt how he was gradually letting go of his mantle as the spiritual head of his family and only shoved his position of the head of the family in making decisions that took them to nowhere, or in bossing her around.

He read her personal account of him as a selfish and lousy lover and her silent dissatisfaction over the years.

He learnt how neglectful he had been and how he had failed in providing for his family; not for want of not having the means, but due to his careless attitude.

He learnt that she was tired of a marriage that left her feeling as if she was a single parent most times and she only stuck to the union because she did not want to leave their children with the legacy of a broken home.

He learnt how deeply hurt she felt about all his extra-marital affairs that he thought were top secret.

It was a sober revelation and reflection.

He looked at who he had become and what would likely happen in a couple of years if they continued down that road.

The male ego part of him that bristled wanted to accuse her of dating online, of unfaithfulness, of cheating. A little niggling part of him reminded him how neglectful he had been. If the truth be told, how he had been a lousy husband and father.

He thought about his wife all over again, and knew that he still loved her. He did not want to lose his Monica to a fast talking Jay Romeo who sent her lovely poems and virtual flowers.

Rising from the toilet seat where he had sat for several hours, he stepped back into the carpet padded room, stood and gazed at his wife through the soft illumination of light coming from the restroom and heaving a sigh of pent-up emotions, he got back into bed and drew her malleable warm form into his body his mind made up to fall in love all over again.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

 

Creative Writing · Hope · Love · Uncategorized

Slaying the giant…

braveEach day that dawned, was met with a fervent prayer, I was hoping for some miracle of healing and grace to occur but it seemed as if I was fighting a losing battle with a faceless giant that equally had a very big name.

I was still breast feeding my infant when I found the little bump. I mentioned it in passing to a friend over lunch and she suggested that I should see a doctor. She tried to reassure me that it was probably nothing to panic over, that I should try and do the needful to get it over and done with. I let it slide for a bit. Partially because I was in denial and maybe, I thought that the more I failed to acknowledge its presence, it would probably go away through wishful thinking after all, I was just 32 years old.

What I had also failed to tell her was that I did not have the funds to run the necessary tests. My pride stood in my way.
The fact of the matter is that the society where I came from was a society where medical intervention came at an enormous cost to its citizenry and money was not readily available. There was no available medical insurance for the commonest man and we depended heavily on local chemists for almost every ailment known to man. It was cheaper.

Yet that nagging fear could not be suppressed and I eventually summoned the courage to talk to a midwife during a routine clinical immunization for my child.
She palpated my breasts and in her exact words, told me that my breasts were turgid, possibly because I was still breastfeeding and the milk ducts were always filling up. She said that she couldn’t really feel anything and I left with a little sense of relief and hope in my heart.

Months went by and the bump became a sizable lump. I could no longer deny to myself that something was wrong. Scurrying around for much needed funds, I raised the prohibitive amount and traveled to the city to run the required mammography, biopsies, blood work and so forth. The results came back packing a punch. I had ductal carcinoma in situ – simply put, I had breast cancer.

I was numb from shock, even though a part of me was braced for any bad news, I still felt as if a wrecking ball had just hit me. I hesitated to share my news with anyone for a while. In the privacy of my closet, I simply railed at God in madness and sadness, oscillating between deep depression and the need to fight and stay alive. The pressure of it all sat heavily on my shoulders and each day was filled with indescribable heart ache.

To fight, I had to share my sad news with family and friends alike. They rallied around me, praying for me, raising money for surgery, chemotherapy and radiation. Due to the spread to both breasts, I had a double mastectomy followed by a battery of chemotherapy and radiation. Needless to say, I lost my hair along with my breasts, lost tremendous amount of weight and felt sick most of the time.

All seemed clear for a brief interlude of three years. My life had changed irrevocably and my days were perpetually dotted with Tamoxifen and a whole cocktail of other drugs. I could have lived with that, if that is what it would have taken, but just a few weeks after my thirty-fifth birthday, I started coughing continuously and suffered from shortness of breath.

With my previous experience, I did not waste time to consult a doctor. My lungs were now affected, the cancer had metastasized.
“How long”? I asked the doctor.
As gently as he could, he told me, months, a year, who knows? Just try and put your house in order.

We fought some more but time was running out. The medical approach was now palliative. I often wondered, if early detection would have saved my life? Statistically, it has been proven that the mortality rate can be reduced through early screening and detection.

I thought of my two boys and cried out my heart that I would not live to see them grow. I wept for dreams that would never have the opportunity to materialize. I tried to make peace with myself and my World. I stopped castigating myself for procrastinating when I found the first little bump. I started soaking up as much memories as I could take in (on the days that I felt strong enough), searching for laughter with new intent and purpose and I began to experience a peace of mind that I could not explain.
Documenting all my thoughts, writing little letters to my boys and my husband, I wrote each one to mark the milestones in their lives and then, I planned my own funeral.

I was laid to rest peacefully, transitioning from a familiar World to one that I could only imagine. Fortunately, I am free from cancer, free from its debilitating pain and mind boggling cost. At long last, I get to be a singing soprano in the heavenly choirs.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Nota bene: Many of us have probably lost a family member or a dear friend to cancer. We may even know someone currently battling with this difficult challenge. Let us keep praying that an absolute cure will be found for this scourge that is decimating mankind. Let us uphold those who journey through this affliction, that they receive extraordinary grace to fight and slay this giant.

Hope · Inspiration - Motivation · Love · Musings

Daddy Dearest…

first love daddy

On Father’s day, I cannot help but dwell heavily on thoughts of you, though I am happy to say to you daddy, that today, my thoughts are light and I am not tearing up. I only feel pangs to hug you one more time, just one more time.

I may not have told you as much as I would have wished to tell you; when you could hear me say them:

That your unquestioned love, the investment of your time and support has been the greatest gift you ever gave to me.

I think of you: that Warmhearted, God fearing, Generous, Dark and Handsome gentleman that ushered me into life.

From my tot-hood now to full fledged adulthood, you still remain a solid anchor in my life.

The firm upbringing and your sage counsel have stood in good stead in your absence.

You encouraged me to be the best that I could be, standing like a beacon of hope, guidance, strength and humility.

An unassuming man of simple tastes and a humble background, you taught me the indubitable value of honesty and integrity, the tenets of hard work, discipline, generosity and compassion.memory bank

To you I owe my love for books, music and dancing, you saturated my being with stories and melodies from far and wide as I grew up.

You taught me never to give up on my dreams and to appreciate those simple things in life which tends to be overlooked.

As I watch mummy struggle to get on without “Nkem”, I realize that we took so many things for granted, that even though it is in man’s nature to die, I always thought secretly, that you would always be there and indeed you are.

Though the light of your candle on Earth may have burnt out, it sure still shines through us that are still behind.

Happy Fathers day dearest daddy. I love you with all my heart.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Creative Writing · Love · Uncategorized

You”ll be dead by summer…. Day 4 – Blogging 101

20150707_131159Following the blogging 101, day 4 assignment “Who is my target audience?”, I started this short, 2-part story, for you, my target audience.

For those who like a good story told and re-told:

“You’ll be dead by Summer”, the gypsy chiromancer whispered bluntly as her firm hold of my palm slackened, and her thumb ceased the feather light caress of all the lines which were indelibly etched into my palms.

For a few seconds, her statement did not sink into my senses and I just stared at her in a befuddled manner.

“What the f**k”? my friend Carlos swore heatedly, pushing back the rustic wooden chair he sat on so forcefully that it fell over with a clatter. “You are a loony bin”. “Let’s get the hell outta here, Luc”!

We hurriedly left her gaudy domain, all four of us. Jumping back into Ma’s car, we zoomed off to the mall, even though the tinkling sound made by her hanging chimes which swung in the slight summer breeze kept ringing in my ears hours later and something that had been sought out, just for laughs fast turned into a source of discomfort.

Summer was almost upon us and I could hardly wait for the break to begin. The days were getting longer into the night; there was more time to stay awake and less time to sleep. I had worked extremely hard in school for my exams and finally the results were rolling in with accolades. My STAR assessment had come out with advanced glowing commendations and my SAT’s had been cleared. I even secured an admission into my school of choice: Texas A & M where I would be pursuing a degree in Mechanical Engineering.

Who would have thought  it! I was the first in my family to break from the mold. Others had settled for hours of odd jobs here and there, living from one pay check to the next, or earning meager wages under the table, just to keep body and soul together. I did not want to live like that. I aspired for greater things. I wanted to be someone worthy of note.

I wanted to have a real job, a real home without sharing my bed and bathroom with a dozen people or more. I did not want to have a home that was a thoroughfare for drifters coming into town, in search of greener pastures. Not that I have anything against Papi or Tio for helping the extended family, it is just that sometimes, it was a little too much. I always felt that Papi was taking a risk by allowing all those people to use his Social Security Number to obtain work. There were far too many Alejandro’s using the same SSN. More than I cared to know.

As we cruised down the highway in Ma’s small Honda, with loud music blasting from the speakers of the small car, I could feel the zing in my bloodstream,. It was prom and graduation season; summer and fun time. I knew that my parents were saving their Tax returns to buy me a car as a graduation gift. Finally, I would have my own wheels. A truck hopefully.

I could picture nice sunny Summer days at Galveston beach with a cold beer in my hands and my ass planted in the sand. Hopefully, with Sophia, my new crush by my side. Taking a puff from the cigarette that we passed around, I quickly stopped at the new gas station, to refuel. The price was slightly cheaper by a few cents and the change could be used to buy some smoke.

Then, Kevin saw the clairvoyants shop and we decided to step in, just for fun.

To be concluded next week….

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

 

Creative Writing · Hope · Inspiration - Motivation · Love · Musings

Your eyes…Your ears…Your heart…

Eyes-Beauty of the soul

Feed your eyes with the right things, they are a door to your inner self.

Open your ears and listen well to ethical things,

Lest your mind becomes consumed by issues that don’t edify

Renew your heart so that your transformation comes from within to without.

Use your lips for utterances that speak for truth.

If you can do these little bits

You just might see those changes that you wish to see in the World.mindset quote

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Image credit: beautyquotes.net

Hope · Inspiration - Motivation · Love

I testify…Beautiful People, Better World.

Sometimes in our consistent flow through life, we meet people who for a brief moment in time leave positive indelible marks on our hearts, minds and in our life and though that moment was not long enough to savor a deeper union, they forever occupy a special place of treasure.

Such people make you feel warm in their presence because of the warmth they radiate themselves.

I met such women.

I met the Texas Multicultural Women.

These are Ordinary people aiming for Extraordinary results.

They are Agents and Catalysts of positive change.

These group of dynamic, professional women, from all walks of life and different nationalities give freely of their time; they lend their ears and give their wisdom; they give freely from their pockets, helping to lift others along the way.

They are embodiments of beautiful minds and souls.

Are you in Houston, Texas or will you be sojourning in these neck of the woods in the near future?

For some of us who have experienced relocating from one city to the other without having it all figured out, it is always a welcome relief to  meet helping hands and smiling faces.

They are your reliable go-to group over here from challenges associated with relocation such as real estate, medical, insurance, scholarship, volunteering, life coaching, PR and so much more.

To Texas Multicultural Women, as I take a brief hiatus away from this axis, I pray that the coast of this group will be expanded beyond foreseeable horizons. Once a Texas Multicultural Woman, always a Texas multicultural woman.

Let us reach out and touch, and make this World a better place one person at a time.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

You can check them out on Facebook: Texas Multicultural Women, email: texasmulticultural@gmail.com, http://www.texasmulticulturalwomen.org

P.S. Just click on one picture and it will take you through the gallery.

Hope · Inspiration - Motivation · Love · Musings

Today I pray for you…

Praying woman

Today I pray for you..
I wish that you will find peace and healing as you hurt in any way.

Today I pray for you..
I pray that you will find strength to hold on,
And abundant Grace to see you through.

Today I pray for you..
I pray for a consistent hedge of protection,
around you and yours, especially in these confusing times.

Today I pray for you..
I pray that you experience mercy, where it is needed

Today I pray for you..
I pray that you will find succor,
Even from the most unexpected channels.

Today I pray for you..
I pray that your heart and mind,
May be generous in your dealings with mankind.

Today I pray for you..
I pray that your faith and hope remains undiminished,
Even when all seems lost,
Just a sliver of faith and hope will suffice.

Today I pray for you..
I pray that your endeavors are met with success.

Today I pray for you..
I pray that all is well with you,
Even as you struggle to believe.

Today I pray for you..

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Photo credit: God Knows my heart-Celia Stevens

Hope · Inspiration - Motivation · Love · Musings

TIP FOR TODAY..

 

 

love quote

Love is cheaper than Hate

Buy it often

Its worth the bargain.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Hope · Love · Musings · Uncategorized

No color for these young ones….

winning

It was a pleasure to sit and watch my youngest and his team mates work together during their field day in school to eventually come out tops in their little unit with several points ahead.

The previous night, he had been sniffling with a touch of cold and like a mother hen, I had fretted that it might get worse and that he may not be able to participate in his field day and he kept asking for my assurance that he would be fine, so that he can support his team to do well. Well, thankfully, mummy the magician did her best, and here we are.

Amongst that cell of small human bodies, I saw excitement, I saw camaraderie, I saw joy, I saw teamwork and cooperation, but with my jaundiced eye as an adult I also saw black, white, olive and everything in between.

A lot of shrieks and squeals were associated with each score or loss, tugs of war were won and lost, a tear or two shone in bright eyes, but above all things I saw love.

winning 2

No dissension of voices did I hear, no untoward discrimination did I perceive nor segregation did I observe amongst these young ones. They all supported each other to achieve common goals. I saw bonding and friendship built possibly to last a life time, who knows?

If only we, the adults will hold our peace and not pollute the minds of these little ones, who in their simple-minded innocence are accepting of each other as equals without differentiation.

I remember back in the days when I was growing up as a young lady in the Eastern region of Nigeria, a community of fiercely traditional but hardworking people, I had dared to deviate from the norm to date a non-black gentleman.

I can still recall the askance attitude of supposedly concerned citizens, the gradual sidelining of some so- called friends who had felt that association with me would automatically taint them, the furore that had been associated with my boldness and the rottenness of my behavior for having the audacity to publicly date a white man and the pretentious support of two-faced friends who helped to stoke the fire of my dare-devil reputation; but in all that, what mattered most to me was how I was treated by whoever I chose to date.

It was more important to me to be cared for and respected by the man I chose to date than to fit into a miserable relationship for political correctness, so as not to rock the boat.

I came to realize that those who sought to mold me into their idea of where I should fit in, did not in any way contribute an iota of positivity to my life, nor was their effort done because they sought my happiness.

I got to understand that most time’s, achieving greatness and living your life to the fullness of its capacity, meant ignoring some naysayers, pushing boundaries and adamantly refusing to fit into the round holes created by the limitations of other people’s expectations and simply remaining a square, but happy peg.

I look back in wry amusement and ask myself if I would I do the same today, assuming the clock was rewound? Oh yes! In a heartbeat! I have not changed much in the broadness of my thinking but have matured enough to cut off any foolishness and distracting noise that drains my energy. I choose to live generously and my generosity starts with me.

Life has taught me that the best people in life are not based on their race or otherwise. They are just humans who seek to give their best, changing the World around them in their own little way positively, one day at a time. They are not occupied in segregating their World in little batches of color for reasons better known by them.

Now for my progeny, I will encourage them to see and treat all men as equals. I will encourage them not to  see in absolute colors or to be color blind, but to look for the fine shades of gray and pastels in between because that is the way the creator chose it to be; the beauty is in the variety.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha