At a point it was sinking sand…

September 18, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha25 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Mountaintops and Valleys.”

Describe a time when you quickly switched from feeling at the top of the world to sinking all the way down (or vice versa). Did you learn anything about yourself in the process?

Despite conscious efforts not to be a depressing wet blanket, to maintain a sunny and optimistic outlook in life, there are times when life throws you sucker punches that leaves you gasping for breath and almost asphyxiated. You are left grappling at anything that will keep you from sinking down the bog that is eager and willing to swallow you whole greedily.

I can think of personal events that hit me in the solar plexus and dragged me from high to rock bottom.

I hate to pull out the tissue box, but I have also learnt that talking about these things, helps to heal gaping wounds.

The loss of my preemie baby.
2 consecutive miscarriages.
The loss of my dad.
A car accident that took the life of a young man. I was the driver!

Without expending a lot of adjectives and flowery prose, losing a baby or even a pregnancy plunges one from the delight of expectancy to nothing… to the pits of despair, hopelessness, anger, sadness, and a multitude of emotions that I can barely define. I leave the rest for you to imagine.

Hearing placating words during such occurrence was barely sufficient if not upsetting. I remember when I suddenly lost my 28 week old baby, and a friend said to me “don’t worry, another baby will come” all I asked was whether a child is a replaceable item like furniture?

My dad’s passing was not a sudden event. It was a painful, grueling battle with cancer and it was not the best of times. Watching the strong man whom I loved so much bowed down by a vicious ailment which left him the ‘sufferer’ and those around him stricken beyond words is not something that I would wish anyone.

We fought like Tigers, but we were left beaten, bruised, bloodied and we lost. Knowing that he was ill did not make the pain any less. My sole joy is that I can honestly testify that my late dad was a good, gentle and upright soul. I will always miss him.

Another event that struck like a bolt of lightning out of the blues was a car accident that I was involved in. You might want to read this A letter to the young man that died. That saying, that a split second can change everything about someone’s life remains true.

I did not come away from these experiences empty handed. I have learnt and still learning to live in the moment and appreciate it. That I can be strong when there is no other choice and not to take anyone or anything for granted.

My biggest lesson so far has been a spiritual journey in Trusting, Believing, and having Faith in God. He has been my source of strength, sanity and boundless peace during these stormy times.

If per chance sharing my experience (that it is possible for someone to rise from the shadowy doldrums to face the light) serves as a source of inspiration and hope for anyone, then something positive would have been achieved.

Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

P.S. No more soppy prompts please. I am out of tissue box. Thank you 😉

Image credit: Sayquotable.com

The Daily Post

Me, Myself and I…..

September 17, 2015September 17, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha38 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “From the Top.”

If you had the chance to be reborn, would you choose to return as your present self, or would opt for a fresh start?

Why would I want to do that, if I may ask?

To change and become who or what?

A dribble nosed tiny tot, suckling and gurgling without a care in the World?

A terrifying whiny toddler that drove her parents crazy and singed the cat’s tail?

A gangling unsure teenager, riddled with acne and all? Not sure if I liked the boy’s or hated them all?

A cocky twenty-something know it all? With lots of broken pieces of my heart to patch?

Nah! I think I shall pass on this ostentatious offer!

It has been a hard journey to get to this point of self-love,

A place where I found love for me, myself and I, past, warts, accidents and all.

I am not enthused at such an idea!

I have no energy to invest in such!

I love me as I am now!

Let’s leave it that way! Thank you for the offer but I pass!

Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

The Daily Post

Sick Dread….

September 16, 2015September 16, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha10 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Phobia, Shmobia.”

Would it be termed a phobia to have a deep dread for a phenomenon which is very natural to human existence?

I have no other way to express the fear that pools in my stomach and sends me palpitating at the contemplation of the loss of a dear one.

I try to philosophize it away and let it go but sometimes my fertile thoughts take a life of their own and grows into gigantic, fierce proportions when my mind dwells on such occurrence.

I have learnt to pray about it, to suppress it, but the fear remains banked within my bowels and waits for a little trigger to stoke its flames.

My total disregard for creepy crawlies, most especially snakes are far from evolving. I detest them and I hope the verb ‘detest’ is strong enough to express my aversion for snakes.

I would jog barefoot from Limpopo to Timbuktu at the mere thought of coming in contact with one. Please, don’t try to convince me to go for therapy and to get a grip of it. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever! NO THANK YOU!

I have a healthy dose of respect for heights and for anything deeper than the swimming pool.

I have recorded a good measure of success in ceasing to worry about the future and the fear of failing.

About the future, I have learnt that tomorrow turns up without my help and my role is to live that day as best as I can.

As for failure, I deserve nothing more than I get, if I don’t learn to try. So, I just keep trying and keep getting better at trying.

It is only by doing that perfection comes.

Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

The Daily Post · Writing

My Narcississtic Self Tooting it’s Horns….

September 15, 2015September 15, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha33 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “These Horns Were Made for Tooting.”

It almost borders on narcissism to talk about oneself with any form of adulation. It is as if you are opening up a voyeuristic door into the heart of your soul; but self-confidence requires sometimes, that we push the shackles of shyness aside and come out of our self-imposed shells, allowing eyes, ears and minds to take a glimpse into our soft core.

The softness of my core has been built with Resilience and Adaptive strength that even tends to surprise me as well. Having weathered some very discomfiting and turbulent seasons in my life, I have only come out more refined and stronger.

I sincerely do not accord this character trait to my individual strength, but to the Grace of God which abounds and has proven to be enduring.

Bearing grudges is to harbor pain and a waste of time by allowing someone to occupy rent-free space in my head. Thus said, for some reason which I cannot decipher, I do not indulge in creating expectations from anyone, that way I have no lingering feelings of disappointment if they should fail to meet such expectations.

By so doing, every little warm gesture becomes a pleasure to be savored.

As much as I like lovely, expensive things 😉 I am very, very contented with simple things.

Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Image Credit: Funmozar.com

The Daily Post

It’s a Cycle…

September 12, 2015September 12, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha11 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Daily Ritual.”

As therapeutic and as good as consistency can be, monotony can become extremely predictable and boring. I like a bit of spice in my life and I search for simple, cost effective ways to achieve a balance between stable and racy. However, that said, there are Four pillars of ritualistic acts that are constant in my daily life.

Prayer

Writing

Reading

Eating (not to be forgotten)

Every other aspect is slotted into a box around these Four. Call it upbringing, belief, force of habit etc., the first thing that comes to my mind once my eyes peek open, is to give thanks. It depends on how my spirit moves me. I could wake up with a particular song in my heart or prayer thought. I could wake up without much to bother God about, and I would just say good morning Lord. Another beautiful. Thank you. Then there are some mornings or even evenings that I have a pretty long chat with him, followed by scouring through my bible. Sometimes, he responds right away and other times he simply listens to my rants until I have run out of steam.

My second daily ritual is to write throughout the day. Spur of the moment notes or thoughts are quickly jotted as I go about my daily affair and much later in the evenings when all the hungry mouths have been fed and no one is looking at mummy with hungry eyes.

For more than 25 years at least, I have always gone to bed clutching a book. That is my own sleeping pill and my tuck myself in time, when I am satisfied that I have done the bit that can be done for that day. All leftovers will be carried over to the next day if feasible.

Of course I love the ritual of eating and this art of appreciating the fruitfulness of the land is a daily need that must be met to keep me well nourished.

There is no point in searching far and wide to know what happens on a day that my cycle is rudely interrupted, I become a sour-faced grumpus. Each day, I try to perfect the fine-art of observing my rituals. It keeps me calm, more productive and less quarrelsome.

Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

P.S. Sometimes these prompts make me feel as if I am writing an autobiography 🙂

The Daily Post

Handwritten Smiles…

September 11, 2015September 11, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha9 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Handwritten.”

If I say that I think through my fingers would that sound senseless? I hope that doesn’t make me an oddball because I am doubtful if I can change this pattern of putting my thoughts on paper every day. I love acquiring note pads and the loss of one feels as if I have lost a friend, because I must have propagated some of the pages with little parts of my grey matter.

I write everyday, before I transcribe on my laptop. Different colored pencils and pens fill a little pouch which I call my assistant, because the different colors that I use depends on what I am writing about. Silly concept right 🙂 Oh well! That works for me.

As a matter of fact, I was writing a thought that I am fermenting in my mind as a poem. It is not complete but I guess it will have to do for now, since you asked. So here goes:

I have come to know that LOVE is when you take away all the lovely, flowery packaging of romance and lustful passion that surrounds the person that you are with and you find out that you still care for them.

That when the door of happiness closes in our face, another door will open for us if we allow ourselves to take our glance away from longing for the one that got shut. Often times, when we are busy staring at the shut door, we fail to see the open window.

Love will surely come to those who still hope and have the courage to build trust again even though they have been disappointed in the past.

I hope you find the someone that will make you smile.

Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

The Daily Post

Shopping by Moonlight…

September 9, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha24 Comments

In response to The Daily Post prompt Retrospectively funny: tell us about a situation that was not funny at all while it was happening, but that you now laugh about whenever you remember it.

I think I must have been watching too many thrillers and reading far too many detective stories when this incident happened. It was early evening, close to Christmas time in Houston, but because it was Winter season, darkness came a bit too early.

I had family visiting the following day and I decided to go out to buy some extra stuff that evening on a whim. I had finished shopping and I preferred to carry the nylons of items that I had purchased instead of a trolley since they were not too much.

I left for the car park, which was a bit too calm for my liking and just a few cars away from mine, as I was engrossed on the phone with my mum, these two bulky gentlemen – seemed to appear out of the blues in my imagination, just a few feet away, as if they were heading towards me.

As soon as one of them reached into his thick leather jacket for something, willy, nilly, in a twinkle of an eye, I flung my purchase at them and took off, huffing and puffing as I raced back towards the entrance. I think I must have frightened not just myself, but the men too.

When I heard the heavy sound of a car engine starting and not the sound of feet pounding after me, I paused and dared to look back only to see that the Dodge RAM truck which was parked next to my vehicle was reversing and pulling away. It was the bulky gentlemen.

I still didn’t trust my eyes and I stood afar, watching until they had driven off. Striding back hastily to my car – I found my goods neatly put back in the bags and kept on one side, only my tray of eggs had suffered from the aftermath of flinging them like weapon at the unsuspecting two, every other thing was intact.

I jumped into the car and rushed home – meanwhile, in my excitement, I had forgotten that I had my mum hanging on the line all through the episode. I equally gave the poor woman a fright, because she heard my frantic chant of ”Jesus” . Now and again, when I visualize the priceless look the on the faces of the two guys and imagine their thoughts – that I am one crazy black woman – I can’t help the peals of laughter, but then again it is better to be cautious than sorry.

Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Humor - Bellyful of laughter · The Daily Post

A Soar and A Splat!….

September 7, 2015September 7, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha28 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Mouth Drop.”

I must implore you not to laugh, snicker or snort when you read this ;), even though I struggle to keep a straight face myself as I recall my brief experience in flying without wings. I promise you, it was never my intention to take R. Kelly’s – I believe I can fly too seriously.

As was the case, it was not my mouth that dropped open, but the whole ~~body~~ of me!

Several months ago, I made a decision to start jogging at twilight and purchased spanking new gym outfit to give myself a boost and a rush.

Feeling all geared to go, I set off for my first run and joined by my first son, I took off as swiftly as I could.

The light evening breeze was cool, my music was on shuffle and I was generally having a good time. As my sprint quickened, out of the blues, I stumbled over a cobble stone and I literally flew a few yards in the air and landed in the brush with a heavy thud.

For several minutes, I lay there winded and all I could feel was the taste of pain that rushed from my left shoulder right into my throat. It was a metallic taste.

My son who had shot off ahead of me like a whistle, looked back and when he didn’t see my robust shadow following him, he back tracked and helped me get back on my feet.

I hobbled home and nursed my pain along with my wounded pride. My crazy desire for twilight jogging nicely nipped in the bud.

Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

The Daily Post

My Very First Crush…

September 5, 2015September 5, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha7 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “First Crush.”

Who was your first childhood crush? What would you say to that person if you saw him/her again?

My very first crush came in the figure of a poster. I adored him from thousands of miles away, through the small handkerchief sized screen of a black and white television.

He was Thomas Sankara; Burkina Faso’s late revolutionary leader. His calendar post hung on the wall, where his imaginary words turned me into a renegade princess. Unfortunately, I was still too young when he died and I never got the chance to flutter my eyelashes at him.

Then came the second crush, who lived in the neighborhood. He was not quite as handsome but fairly manageable too.

He never knew I had a teen crush on him and when I ran into him several years ago, not a missed heartbeat or flutter did my heart suffer. For some reason, I kept staring at the balding shiny patch of his head, since I stood several good inches taller, trying to figure out what it was that had kept my young heart crushing. I couldn’t remember.

We exchanged pleasantries and went our merry ways. Me and my brood of kids and him with his bulging briefcase to do what it was that he did.

Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

The Daily Post

Churn it out….

September 3, 2015September 3, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha13 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Inside the Bubble.”

I peer up at the doctor in his protective gears with anxious eyes, dreading the worst.

I can’t quite define the emotions in his eyes; the transparent plague mask seems to disassociate him from warmer expressions and he tut tutted yet again.

“Say aarrghh,” he requests. His vocals come out a bit wobbly through the thick surgical mask.

I oblige willingly. Sticking my tongue out as far as I can. Anything to get rid of the plaguing ailment will do.

A poke here, a prod there, several vials of blood and muted instructions to nurses who are equally garbed like they are all ready to take off on a jaunt to Mars; they all shake their heads.

“What?” I ask through hot, parched lips?

”Am I dying?” I brace myself for a heart-stopping, gut wrenching response.

”I am not ready to die now,” I start protesting to my audience who peered at me like a new specimen for study.

Then came the blissful words of the doctor in the mask.

“No ma’am .” “You are not dying, but you have a very contagious infection called bogusmogusoperansuswhatamacallit.” “This is a very viral blah, blah, and can be fatal if not well managed.” You will be fine in a month with the right amount of treatment, but I am sorry you will have to remain quarantined here in the hospital for the required month.”