I am…

On today’s episode of asking myself what my passion is, or my talent is. I mean like I go on social media, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter e.t.c and I see people engaging in various crafts and skills and are extremely good at it. It could be baking, or making clothes, photography, singing, music production, artist…just so many creative things, and it just hurts me. No in the I’m a hater way but in the, ‘What exactly is wrong with me? What am I doing wrong?’

I’ve given my self so many excuses for not focusing on one thing. I start sowing, and due to my impatience, get frustrated, think I am never going to be a fashion creative that I’ve always wanted to be, then sulk away my frustrations. And that’s the end. 

‘What is your talent, Ugonna?’. You can bake, but you can’t bake, you can sow but you can’t sow, you can dance but you don’t dance, you can sketch clothes but you don’t that, you are good at so many things, so why aren’t you doing them or making some sort of living out of them?

In that moment, just one simple answer popped into my head and it was ‘Writing’.

You can write.

You can paint the picture that you see in your head to the readers to feel what you feel too and you’re so damn good at that, give yourself some credit. And even if you think you’re not as good as you want to be.

Writing is you, you are writing. You are one.

You’ve been expressing your feelings in words for more than 12 years of your life. You love this. It gives you comfort. When you felt all alone like the world was moving on without you, you found solace in your words.

When the first words your scribbled on your locker in secondary school were the lyrics to Gavin Degraw’s I don’t want to be, those lyrics spoke to you, you felt them and you wanted them in your memory, in your life forever.

When you wrote down poems, and short stories, and love letters to yourself and even those bits of romance composed in your head with no one to express that strong feeling of affection to, you did that with your words.

Those were the same words you wrote at the back of your examination paper explaining what art meant and felt to you, without even thinking of the fate of the examination that you just wrote.

Those same words you used to say good bye to your grandma even when you knew she wouldn’t be reading it. But you just wanted to let her know still, how much you missed her and the her soft palms, and what a world without her would feel like.

Your words are your power. You have the key to the world you desire. Like Ladi Kwali, you mould and shape and spin the life you want into existence but this time with your words. Your words can give life, peace, resurrect, grow, suffocate, intoxicate, over shadow, levitate, bind, heal, push, even as much as kill as much negativity as possible. Don’t neglect it. Don’t let it die. Don’t limit it, don’t put a time or a date to it. Let it glow.

Go be the star you know you should be. In your own words of comfort said in front of the mirror with inspiration from Issa Rae. ‘You are the shit!’

Love xx ❤❤


Choosing Life. Again.

Trusting God for things I don’t understand.

Believing a higher power for a miracle I know nothing about.

Having faith that there’s something bigger waiting for me that I am completely ignorant about.

‘Early nights’, late mornings trying not to cry myself to sleep. Back to sleep that is.

Almost as though I do not understand where I am in life, or with life.

Two decades in the next couple of months and I’m neither of the things I thought I’d be. Or where I thought I’d be.

Slowly, it is getting to me. Oh, it’s starting to hurt.

But then, there’s only one constant in my life.

When it seems like nothing makes sense.

When it seems like I’m in a black hole, not even a tunnel because at least with that there might be some hope.

When it seems like I’m stagnant, or my life is stagnant. And it feels like I can’t do nothing. Like I can’t achieve shit. 

There’s only one person I can believe in. And that’s God.  He is the constant. The actual plug of life. Literally the entire electrical set, all wires, cables, switch, the actual essence of life and living.

I know that after I haven’t written in a while, everyone expects some poetic stuff with super deep  rhymes and stuff. But at this point, I don’t care.

At least I’m writing Again.
And I feel free, liberated. Happy. More hopeful. I’m choosing life. Again. Believing God. Always.

Love xx 💕💕💕

I love going to church.

I love stealing secret glances at him, with the corner of my eyes.

I don’t know if it feels right to juxtapose these two feelings but that is how I feel.

There is something unexplainable about it . Awkward feelings and emotions that makes it mysterious, and that makes me want more.

And more.