At your own risk ‘cos I kick scary butts!….

November 1, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha24 Comments

There is no one in the room with me, except my lazy feeling self, the quarreling voices in my head telling me to ignore you, WordPress and the television which I have put on mute to dispel all the bad news floating in and disrupting my creative juices; though I like the flickering bursts of colour so I leave it on.

It’s fun at times to look at the yammering lips on TV, not hearing what they are saying, using your imagination to figure it out and laughing at nothing – please don’t think I am crazy, just the creative juice in overload today.

I am home alone and I can tell you I am tougher than Macaulay Culkin, so don’t get any ideas of sneaking in!!

The children and their Papa should be stepping back in pretty soon and they can terrorize with well aimed bites, kicks, ladles, pots and pans; you have been forewarned!

So, I will have well fortified backup even though I trust my screeching techniques well enough.

Any attempt for any fear or scary stuff to sneak in, is at it’s own peril!

I am amply armed with my heavy wielding bible, my certified holy water that will turn you into mush in a sprinkle of an eye, my gleaming prayer beads and a nice weighty crucifix for beating sound sense into the scare source for attempting to give me nervous breakdown.

Maybe, I should quickly place an order for chainsaw – the Chinese are known to deliver rapidly, what do you think? Getting more gory right?

Well, I have advertised my ammunition at no price.

Should you, FEAR, venture to come in, a crucifix bludgeon, a screech with bible quotes, a hasty recital of the beads and a sprinkle in the eye and you will be transformed magically, finding yourself pressed willy-nilly into the church choir!

Well now, this is the silliest prompt response I have given so far, to a repetitive prompting.

This prompt about fear was addressed in a roundabout way just a few days ago and this was my response.

Now let me go and bring my casserole out for dinner.

Goodnight and don’t let the bed bugs bite 😉

In response to The Daily Post prompt 1984

You’re locked in a room with your greatest fear. Describe what’s in the room.

The Daily Post · Travel · Writing

Those Heebie-Jeebies…

October 28, 2015October 28, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha56 Comments

Don’t bother about trying to convince me with any pep talk. It simply won’t work! There are some experiences that I can live without henceforth.

There are some things that mere thoughts of them gives me sufficient heebie-jeebies and for all the curry in India or tea from China I will be glad not to encounter or repeat such experience.

I literally break out in hives at the sight of a snake and would gladly walk barefoot over hot coals than come close to one. I have been known to go to zoos and completely by-pass the reptile zone.

My kids even make fun of that fact. You will hear them whisper conspiratorially, ”if mummy sees that sign, she will start screaming” and my youngest champion will get all protective of me. He would say, ”mummy don’t look!” ”You will get frightened like a little girl.”

”Well son, I shall not look, but if truth be told mummy is a little girl in a big body.” With a stiff upper lip, I go and settle myself on a bench while they go off to look at the vile creatures. Urrgh!

I am not a cat with nine lives and even if I have twenty lives as well as a parachute bigger than a house, I am never going to jump off a plane in the sky. There is no point killing myself with palpitations.

The adrenaline jolt that I get inside the pages of my books or watching National Geographic is sufficient, besides, my ifly simulated experience was all well and good. Several days after, I was cross-eyed and walked with a squint like a drunk sailor.

Those dare-devil roller coaster rides are experiences called ”ONCE is enough.” My last experience at Abu Dhabi Theme park, made me realize that one could have a cardiac arrest in one of those contraptions. I went on a crazy roller coaster ride and spoke in tongues all through the ride. I think my heart stopped beating and restarted after we came down. I had to go and recuperate quietly with a large cup of ice-cream to soothe my frayed nerves.

The kind of horror movies that is peddled these days are not designed for the squeamish and they would frighten the whiskers off a cat’s face.

I find the amount of gore and unbelievable diabolical acts perpetrated so revolting, that sometimes it makes me ponder at the deranged state of some human mind. I won’t spend my time or money just to feel sick.

In response to The Daily Post prompt Fright Night

What’s the thing you’re most scared to do? What would it take to get you to do it?

Devotions · Family · Hope · Inspiration - Motivation · Life · Love · Weave that Dream

Through the Eyes of a Tiny Tot…a refreshing encounter

October 21, 2015October 21, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha29 Comments

This post is inspired by my yesterdays observation as a social voyeur and I came away with a good number of lessons even though the young baby had no idea that his display was teaching me some of life’s simple lessons.

The weather in Dubai had cooled sufficiently that you could go down to the pool and relax without turning into burnt offering, so when the kids came back from school and raced through their homework, I agreed to take them to the poolside.

They swam whilst I lounged with my fave read of the moment ‘My Vision – Challenges in the race of Excellence‘ The book of His Highness Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid, the Ruler of Dubai and Vice-President of the United Arab Emirates.

I was quite engrossed in the glossy pictures of the Sheikh and his Falcon when an insistent shrilling cry of a child roused my attention.

I watched this tiny young fella; just about a year old by my estimate, wrestle and put up a squiggly fight with his parents as they tried to squeeze him into a floater.

He wailed. He tried to tuck his legs under his butt. He squirmed and wriggled and did his very best to escape the inevitable, but alas, he lost the battle.

His Mama managed to persuade his cute plump legs with those gorgeous baby folds into the float openings – I have something about babies. I adore them 🙂 and if nature had not decided I would have had a family of 7 children!

Well, back to our story. When mama had the young fella secured in, into the water he went with his father.

A baby bellow, squawk and shriek all followed his affront from being put in the pool! I gathered that it was his first experience.

By this time my entire attention had diverted from my read to watch the child and I unfortunately missed capturing on camera the initial bloody battle moments and his attempted maneuvers.

His dad held him and they made their way from one end of the pool to the other a couple of times and in no time at all the young chap was chortling happily and was all smiles. I was smiling too! 🙂

This went on for a little bit and before you could say ‘hey presto’ he got right into the groove of things.

After a worthwhile half an hour paddle and it appeared he was getting cold, his dad decided to get him out of the water and another loud protest ensued.

To my amazement the little fella did not want to come out! Here was a young thing screaming like the sky was about to fall a few minutes ago before he was persuaded albeit reluctantly to get into the water, now doing an about face and exhibiting his reluctance to come out!

They bundled him into a towel eventually and:

An ordinary, mundane experience left me with a good number of reflections:

How we always tend to draw a conclusion about an experience without even trying it out first.

How a new start of everything is filled with nervous trepidation and yet when we do apply ourselves, we conquer.

How fear and not faith always seems to be the first primal reaction to change in the human life.

His dad’s steering hand figuratively resembled the hands of God to me. When God wants to steer us in the right direction knowing that he is taking us to a good place but we stubbornly assert our independence until he lets go and allows us our free will.

How little encouragement and motivation (though forced in this case) can help us get on higher grounds. Growing pains in anything may be difficult but they are always surmountable.

How we are always reluctant to stop doing something (good or bad) when we have started it.

That we should be floats for others as many as we can encourage and motivate.

In this little application, not only did he conquer, but his joy resembles self-actualization.

So there it is, I bet the young fella will not forget the good experience from his first dunking and would be happier next time around.

If you gleaned anymore hidden message in this little story. Please do share.

Thanks and kind regards.

Creative Writing · Fiction · Short Stories

Hiding…..a Short story

October 12, 2015October 12, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha21 Comments

Patting the blonde wig, she stares at her face in the gaudy mirror.

This would be her last night, yet she feels uneasy. Is it the anticipated move? Maybe! She thinks.

She is tired of moving. From one horse-shoe town to the next. One harshly lit stage to the other. How many wigs? How many stages? How many towns? How many names? She had lost count! Sometimes, her days start as Rita and ends as Melinda, or Mirabelle, Belinda, Katerina, Chloe and even Zoe!

Young Luc now asks questions.

“This will be the last time my love, she promises.” Finally, she has enough money to start allover in a sleepy town, with a new identity and new things away from stage lights.

The introductory act wraps up. Her cue is next.

Her crooning voice belts out heartrending tunes of a broken heart. The crowd soaks it in.

Her eyes wander nonchalantly across faces. His sizzling gaze hits her. Her pitch warbles to a halt!

Staring in wide-eyed disbelief, like a deer caught in bright lights, its her Nemesis and his goons.

In response to prompt photo from The Storytellers Abode for Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers. Thank you Etol and Priceless Joy for providing this platform.

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Devotions · Family · Inspiration - Motivation · Life · The Daily Post

That Thing That Niggles Me…

September 27, 2015September 27, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha39 Comments

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Must Not Fail.”

The fear of failure when it comes to the aspects of life’s material wants has ceased to bother me, because I have really come to realize that we can exist on far less than we tend to surround ourselves with.

I literately and completely believe in the word of God in Ezekiel 34 v 26: that says: I will make them and the places surrounding my hill a blessing. I will send showers in season; showers of blessing.

I have seen this proven true time and time again in my life even when I neither earned it nor deserved it.

I know that as long as life exists that hope exists. That faith and perseverance will sustain me.

It is always wise to keep in mind that failure is only a setback and not the end of the street. It is an invitation to learn from, to grow from and an opportunity to start again.

However, as a mother blessed with lovely children, there is a fear that niggles my heart each day and that is the fear in my ability to do a good job in raising my children.

With the amount of corrosive erosion in human ethics and values, I am concerned and wonder if I am doing enough to raise upright children who will be blessings to their generation. Therefore, I must continue to try.

On a personal note, I live with the fear of failing as a Christian in the true sense of the word. Not the picture of me that the World sees through the acts of Earthly Godliness but the intrinsic me that no one else is privy to.

I however remind myself that it is only by the Grace of God that I am redeemed and not by the arm of my flesh.

These two thoughts drive me everyday and if I do not fail in these two things, then I must count myself as extremely successful.

Let us not fail to remember that success is relative. What count’s as success for me, may be viewed as idiosyncratic nonsense to another.

Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Creative Writing · Hope · Poetry/Poems

Terror Stricken… shall we forget?

September 17, 2015September 17, 2015 jacquelineobyikocha11 Comments

In response to the seventh edition of the Creativity Carnival. That this edition comes to you on the anniversary of September 11 attacks makes it special.

Like yesterday, it dawned like the day before..

Unlike yesterday, we mourned like never before..

The frame of the building shook, groaned and trembled in anguish..

Its staggered implosion, tumbled heaps of concrete, glass and reinforced metal deafened the eyes..

The billow of dust and the ashes of the dead rose into the clouds for miles and miles apart..

They painted the skies, blinded the ears, clogged the nostrils and choked the heart…

The wails of the siren sounded forlorn..

Of mayhem and catastrophe unleashed like never before..

The silence of the fallen..

The virulence of the bereaved..

Limbs shattered, Tears frozen, Dreams crushed..

All buried in heaps..

We scoured in the rubble covered in smog and perspiration..

We waited, we uttered prayers in utmost desperation..

The land ran dark with red blood and gore..

Our hearts ripped out from our chests and crushed under tons of concrete and metal..

Terror stood in our eyes..

Anguish ran down our nose..

Our blood fired at such betrayal..

We are left clutching nothing but hope..

The pain of the Lost Ones never to be forgotten..

But out of the rubble and ashes of despair..

The Phoenix

Bravely we rise again!

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

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