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Sacred openings and visualizing birth

Entrance to the Lomas Rishi Cave in India, 3rd c. BCE

In renowned German philosopher Peter Sloterdijk’s extraordinary Bubbles, the first volume of his larger Spheres project, Sloterdijk devotes enormous space the the impact of the feminine–its physiology and forms–to the formation of human knowledge. Images are plentiful in the book, and one of the images is that of the entrance to the Lomas Rishi Cave in india (page 274).

At 663 pages, Bubbles is a big book. In the section of the work where the image of the cave is found, Sloterdijk discusses the importance of cave imagery more broadly to human life and thought:

Mortals, those who are born, have their beginning and their end in caves of origin. One day people will even call for the entire horizon to become cave-immanent, and the phenomenal world will then have to become interpretable as an interior landscape (263).

All truth-seekers in metaphysical times are therefore returnees to the womb. They strive for what seems prima facie unattainable: they wish to tie the end of the search to the beginning of life and reverse birth through radical struggles against themselves. Who is the hero with a thousand faces if not the seeker who journeys out into the wide world in order to return home to his ownmost cave? The tales of heroic truth-seekers celebrate the womb-immanence of all being. Wisdom is the realization that even the open world is encompassed buy the cave of all caves

For Sloterdijk, a woman’s interior is a birth cave and a place of exit and entrance, but it is also a deep source of human knowledge.

Visualizing Birth has previously discussed the power of using cave images in preparation for birth as a rite of passage. See Cave Opening Visualizations. Like other cave openings and entrances, this entrance to the Lomas Rishi Cave in India provides those preparing for birth with an incredible image of a layered cave opening that even looks from the outside like the female anatomy of the vulva.

Cave openings are powerful images to look at and visualization in preparation for the opening that occurs during birth. Towards the end of her third trimester, a woman can imagine opening like a cave. Other Visualizing Birth images that are helpful in this way include visualizations of opening flowers. See: Blooming Flower Visualizations, (Video) Blooming Rose and Tessa Venuti Sanderson’s Golden thread breath and Blooming Rose Visualization for Dilation


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WetLeather Recipe Database - food for bikers

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Name:Oatmeal Stuff Contributor:Ellen Carrico
Description:Oatmeal with apple Posted:2001-04-06
Key words:breakfast, oatmeal, apple, yogurt, yoghurt Category:Other
ID:198 Updated:2005-12-18 10:59:34
Ingredients:1 apple, cored and cut into 1/2" chunks
brown sugar or sugar substitute
1 portion oatmeal
1/4 c nonfat yogurt (the good stuff that contains milk and cultures only)
OR Trader Joe's Greek Style Yogurt if you don't mind the fat content.
Preparation:Cut up an apple (Braeburns and Grannies work well) into 1/2" chunks.
Place in a microwavable dish and sprinkle with cinnamon and brown sugar to your taste.
Microwave for about 1 minute to bake the apple chunks.
Make oatmeal of choice. Since I usually do this at work, I often use the envelopes of instant that Leigh Ann mentioned. It doesn't taste great, but that's why I'm adding apples and cinnamon.
Mix the oatmeal and apples together and toss in yogurt.
Notes:You can substitute Grape Nuts for the oatmeal.

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Copyright (c) © 1998-2011 by Carl Paukstis for the WetLeather family. All rights reserved.
email address miners use this: uce@ftc.gov

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5 religion happiness hacks for the non-religious

I’ve finally caved and written a listicle. It is a long-form listicle, but a listicle all the same. Yes, I still want to maintain the integrity of the blog as a forum for open intellectual discussion. But I found as I was writing that naturally, this particular post emerged as a series of ideas related to a common theme. Realising what I had done with a rapidly descending dread, I accepted my fate and reluctantly numbered each point. I hope you will have an open mind toward a controversial topic in a controversial format: religion.

Why is this relevant now?

A recent poll found approximately 20% of Americans defined themselves as ‘Spiritual but not religious’. Back in 2013, research by UCL found a similar percentage of the UK population fitted this category. Although spirituality is a personal choice, secular society should look to religion to understand the needs of a population. In doing so, we can identify how the state and local communities can better serve the functions that religion previously filled.

A summary of the historic role of organised religion

There are many aspects of organised religion which fundamentally are no longer needed in modern society. With technological advances came a control over the natural world. Thus, humanity was better able to control its fate. Prayers are therefore rarely needed to fill this void. For example, to pray for good weather almost seems self-indulgent – as if topping up a suntan is the most pressing of concerns…

Yet in centuries past, the weather would affect….

our ability to leave the house

to visit loved ones

to travel any distance

the harvest and resulting food supply, famine

even the phases of the moon would impact travel plans…

Daily activities for basic survival were much more heavily dependent on the changing weather. So we lived in alignment with the seasons. Electricity now provides us with a 24-hour light source and climate controlled buildings, whilst a globalised food chain provides an abundance of food. There is no longer a need to overcome a lack of power with faith.

It is my view that we live in a void between a post-religious, pre-secular society. As our day to day lives are no longer governed ‘by the Gods’ or ‘fate’, we no longer turn to religion in vast numbers. Yet, there are many aspects to organised religion that the state does not (yet) fulfill.

These are institutionalised religious practices that are disconnected from spirituality, but which could benefit wider societal health and happiness. As individuals, it is worth considering these key elements of religion that have been a foundation to human life for centuries. Doing so may also help inspire us to live happier lives, and better fulfill the 5 pillars of happiness I outline in my happiness framework. So here are my top 5 religion happiness hacks for the non-religious….

1. Saying Grace: Conscious Eating

The mindfulness trend has picked up pace over the past several years, but as Michael Pollen points out, it is nothing new! It has existed in religious thinking around the globe for centuries. Mindful eating not only means taking the time to sit down to eat and savour the flavours and textures of your food. It means considering the origin of the food on your plate and cultivating gratitude.

Mindfulness in religious practice

In the Catholic religion, typically the following prayer is said before eating:

Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen. (Preceded and followed by the Sign of the Cross.)

Describing food as “Thy gifts” cultivates gratitude, whilst “Thy bounty” acknowledges that the food has not magically appeared out of thin air as a finished product in a plastic wrapper on a supermarket shelf. Rather, it is grown, through careful cultivation of Earth’s resources.

In Islam similarly, the “Du’a” is a personal prayer said silently or quietly, whether eating alone or in a group, to draw the mind and focus attention on the act of eating. There are many variations of this prayer, depending on the circumstance used, but most include a statement of gratitude for the food ‘provided’ by Allah.

Equally, many religions have developed rituals surrounding slaughter; mindful of the sacrifice. Reflection, gratitude and mindfulness around food are themes which run across religions and have been long-established.

Conscious or mindful eating then is not new. For many centuries, through the medium of religion, people have acknowledged and given thanks for their food.

Benefits of mindful eating

Conscious or mindful eating is popular to help lose weight or manage binge eating, but equally is a way to reduce stress, slow the pace of life and calm the parasympathetic nervous system, which goes into overdrive under stressful conditions. It is often recommended for sufferers of anxiety, and the NHS now offers guidance on how mindfulness, including mindful eating, can help to improve mental wellbeing.

In secular society, it is positive to see the NHS offer guidance on mindfulness, but more could be done to encourage the adoption of mindful eating practices.

Secular adoption of mindful eating

Unlike the other 4 points on this listicle, mindful eating has no institutional grounding. There isn’t a natural physical home like a church building, or a natural institution which could take the lead on raising awareness of food origins. There are measures that governments can take; however, I believe these must be part of wider legislation aiming to bring about a shift in corporate culture.

At a societal level, we must move away from a high-pressure, 9-5 ‘bums on seats’ corporate mentality. Instead, let’s empower the workforce to achieve business goals on their own terms. This means allowing employees to work flexible hours, take breaks as and when they choose and encouraging employees to take long lunch breaks – by which I mean, taking a full hour, instead of grabbing a sandwich and eating it at your desk.

At an individual level, adopting mindful eating encourages us to spend time away from our phones and TVs. The exception to this is those who live alone: for many people, it isn’t possible to have dinner each night with family and friends. The mindful eating movement may seem alienating and even act as a reminder of loneliness. If eating alone, it is still possible to take the time out to prepare fresh food, and eat at a table, without a screen. Even if this means, for example, reading a magazine, or listening to a podcast.

2. Confession: The institutionalisation of therapy

To continue with Pollan’s analogy, in the Catholic religion, the priest historically served as a ‘therapist’ for his congregation. According to the Encyclopaedia Britannica, confession is described as follows:

Confession, in the Judeo-Christian tradition, the acknowledgment of sinfulness in public or private, regarded as necessary to obtain divine forgiveness. The need for confession is frequently stressed in the Bible. The mission of the Old Testament prophets was to awaken in the people a sense of sinfulness and an acknowledgment of their guilt, both personal and collective.

Confession provided an opportunity to reflect on past events, behaviour and determine whether actions taken were aligned with your values. Moreover, it was an opportunity to better understand yourself, forgive yourself, identify behavioural patterns and ultimately to heal, to move forward. Unlike therapy, however, in confession the priest would judge behaviour as ‘good’ or ‘bad’ against the values in the bible, and provide advice.

Shame vs Guilt

In a recent Friday Favourites post, I discussed the importance of having faith, defined as a fundamental baseline optimism. This is not naivety or a detachment from reality, but a belief that you will be OK in the end. Lack of control is an inevitable part of life, and how we respond to that powerlessness determines the extent of our suffering. In confession, there is an ‘institutionalised’ path forward through difficult times, as well as a route to forgiveness. This removes many limiting beliefs and places emphasis on guilt for our actions, rather than shame for who we are.

In her viral Ted Talk on vulnerability, Brene Brown argues:

Shame is a focus on self, guilt is a focus on behaviour. Shame is, “I am bad.” Guilt is, “I did something bad.”

It results in higher levels of depression, addiction, violence, bullying, and suicide. In confession, then, the emphasis is on forgiveness for actions, rather than shaming your soul. Now, did all priests take that attitude? Almost certainly not. I have no doubt that over the centuries there will have been many priests who cultivated shame during confession. Many will have told their congregation that the soul is flawed and they will burn in hell for their actions. However, as an institution, confession, like therapy, provided a gateway to personal growth.

3. Prayer: The institutionalisation of self-reflection

Prayer serves a valuable purpose to the individual in creating a practice which serves many purposes. This includes stillness, reflection, gratitude, and meditation. The same outcomes can be achieved through a variety of secular practices. But how powerful that one action can offer so many benefits! Yet belief in the existence of God is pretty much a given to practice prayer. A non-believer is simply not going to sit down and pray for the associated benefits alone. So how can we get the same benefits through secular practice?

The below image outlines the ways in which, at an individual level, we can include and develop these powerful, positive elements of prayer. Equally, for those reading who are religious, the secular practices may serve to augment your prayer, and see prayer differently in your life.

4. Church services: The institutionalisation of community connection

In The Little Book of Lykke, Meik Wiking argues that stronger community connection results in improved happiness. It will come as no surprise that loneliness is bad for happiness. However, what was surprising to me is that the evidence shows the more often people meet, the happier they are. (See p.65 re the European Social Survey).

As an introvert, I often find social interactions exhausting and overwhelming. But the reality is that, as Aristotle pointed out: “Man is by nature a social animal”. Social connection is a human characteristic, not a personality trait.

The holy grail: connection

What’s more, there is evidence to suggest that social connection is the overriding factor causing long life. ‘Blue zones’ are pockets of communities in the world where life expectancy is exceedingly high compared to the rest of the world. Research into these zones is intensive. We all want to know the miracle cure, the secret to long life.

In the Ted Talk ‘The secret to living longer may be your social life’, Susan Pinker argues that this great mystery may have nothing to do with low-carb, low-sugar, low-fat diets, but in fact be as straightforward as human connection.

Social isolation is the public health risk of our time – Susan Pinker

(Side note: Matthew Walker made the exact same statement about sleep in his book Why We Sleep. I’d lean towards Matthew Walker on this debate as quite simply we can’t be sociable if we’re exhausted. Nevertheless I hope the bold statement is suitably alarming to underscore its importance in our lives)

The historic role of the church

The local church has historically been the central pillar to the local community. It would have no doubt been one of the largest buildings, the only place suitable for hosting big indoor events. Everyone in the community would attend their church once a week. This allowed people to meet their neighbours, get to know those who worked for local services such as the police or, in later centuries, local leaders.

The priest was equally a leader of the community and represented a limited, political voice for his congregation. The church building, therefore, put individuals at close physical proximity to one another, to network and build connections. It also served as a metaphorical entry-point for newcomers to the community. Travelers or those who had moved from another village would join the congregation, thus reducing the fear of outsiders. Now, there is no doubt in my mind that the social coherence would result in a natural fear of outsiders. However, it would nevertheless improve the social bond of those ‘in’ the group.

Political alternatives

In our secular society, MPs (UK) or senators (US) have quite natural took up many of the responsibilities previously fulfilled by the local priest. This includes listening to the local community and understanding their concerns. However, politicians vary dramatically in their willingness to spend time with the community. Their territorial remit is also much wider (counties and regions) than the average church (villages). There is no central meeting point for the community, and even where there are town halls, they are often old and run-down.

Meeting points tend to be more often divided by class. Those who can afford to join a country club or fancy gym may get to know one another. Whereas for those living on limited income, the only points of connection may be areas such as the local post office or village park.

5. Religious texts: Agreed boundaries of the community + philosophy

Historically, religious texts have provided the basis on which to societies have collectively established what is considered ‘right’ or ‘wrong’. Justice systems around the world evolved from the behavioural standards outlined in religious texts. Notably in the western sphere, the church and state separated in the centuries proceeding the ‘enlightenment’ era. Justice systems were then modified through debate and reasoned analysis.

Yet, the fundamental principles of right and wrong have not changed in any meaningful way. All are based on the principle of ‘do no harm’, and the punishments are determined based on the severity of the harm. But at a deeper level, the best way to live our lives is not regularly debated in public forums.

The church enables individuals to look at a set text and infer an interpretation as it applies to one’s own life. It confronts directly one’s own mortality and encourages the creation of meaning from a shared set of values. Discussion and debate about the meaning of different verses are commonplace in church environments. The church, in theory, encourages discussion within a framework of kindness, understanding, compassion and shared values.

So how can this same discussion and debate be addressed in daily life? What institutions exist as public forums for debate?

Political vs individual responsibility

For the big issues, politics is a wide-reaching public forum, but it does not enable citizens who do not hold public office to engage with debates about their own lives in a detailed, meaningful way. The organisation ‘The School of Life’ founded by Alain de Botton is the only institution of which I am aware. It facilitates deeper debates and discussion based on a common shared framework. Unlike the church, The School of Life is not universally accessible. As a private institution, access requires some financial outlay.

At an individual level, many institutions offer services which solve specific problems that may be connected to existential awareness. For example, depression may be caused by a lack of meaning or purpose, and be treated by the state health service. Services such as talking therapies may address existential debates which an individual is struggling to come to terms with to make progress toward a happier life. However, these debates are not explored away from the therapist’s couch at a communal or societal level.

How do we fill the void?

I will leave you with this: what role should the state play in facilitating engagement at an individual level with how to live your life?

Is there a need for community town halls to facilitate debate, community connection, and philosophy?

Is it possible for the state to engage citizens in a meaningful discussion at any level without risking descent into an Orwellian big-brother society?


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The sport of rowing is one that is most exciting and one that is very popular especially in the UK. Like any sport there is a need for certain types of attire and included in this for the rowers is the rowing boots.

Racing that focuses on the skills of rowing is becoming so popular that now there are opportunities for those who like to wager on sports to place bets on some of the major events within this category. It is being recognized as a betting sport by many of the online sports betting sites and this is being well received by betting enthusiasts. Being able to bet on rowing events online means participants do not have to physically attend the events but can merely place their wager through their chosen betting site that offers this option.

This increase in popularity for the sport of rowing and boat racing places more focus on the participants in the sport wearing the proper footwear. Most that are serious about their performance in this sport will focus on purchasing boots that are going to be comfortable and allow them to withstand the pressure that will be placed on their feet while holding their positions. Some go for the Wellies while others like to use the same boots during their events that they use for their training with their indoor rowing activities.

When choosing the best rowing boots comfort and durability must be at the top of the list for importance. They also have to be considered as to whether they are best suited for warm weather rowing or cold weather events.

Some of the important factors that come with choosing the right rowing boots are that they must give firm support but at the same time allow for flexibility in the bending of the feet as needed for the right manoeuvres.


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26 déc 2010, Posted by Achraf AYADI د.أشرف العيّادي

Académia مسؤوليّات أكاديميّة

Editorial Review Board

International Journal of E-Services and Mobile Applications (ISSN 1941-627X)>Editorial Review Board Member

i-Manager’s Journal On Management (ISSN 0973-5054) >Editorial Board Member

International Journal of Electronic Business (ISSN 1741-5063/1470-6067) >Refree

International Academy of E-Business >Editorial Review Board Member (2005-)

Journal of Information, Information Technology and Organizations (ISSN 1557-1319/1327/1335) >Editorial Review Board Member (2005-)

Organizing Committee Membership

MINT 2005′ International Conference on « Technological innovation: Cultural Aspects and Globalization » >1st and 2nd of December 2005 at INT Evry, France

4th Congress of the French Academy of Entrepreneurship >23th-25th October 2005 at the French Senate, Paris, France

1st International Network Optimization Conference >27th-29th october 2003 at INT Evry, France

Conference Reviewing Committee Membership

eCommerce and Internet Governance Conference (ECIG 2007), October 19th-20th at Sousse, Tunisia >Program Committee Member, Remote Banking and ePaiement session Chairperson

Information Science & Information Technology Education Joint Conference (InSITE 2007), June 22th-25th at Ljubljana, Slovenia >Program Committee Member

18th International Resource Management Association Conference (IRMA 2007), May 19th-23th at Vancouver, Canada >Volunteer Reviewer

36th Annual Meeting of the Western Science Decision Institute (WSDI 2007), April 3rd-7th at Denver, USA >Volunteer Reviewer

5th International Conference on Mobile Business (ICMB 2006), June 26th-27th at Copenhagen Business School, Danemark >Program Committee Member

Southwest Academy of Management 2006 Annual Meeting, February 28th-March 4th at New Orleans (LA) >Volunteer Reviewer

Association for Business Communication – Southwest USA 2006, February 28th-March 4th at New Orleans (LA)>Volunteer Reviewer

37th Annual Conference of the Southwest Decision Sciences Institute, 1st-4th March at New Orleans (LA) >Volunteer Reviewer

2006 USASBE/SBI Joint Conference: « The changing entrepreneurial landscape », 12th-15th of January 2006 at Tucson, Arizona >Volunteer Reviewer

31st European International Business Academy Annual Conference, 10th-13th of December 2005 at Oslo, Norway >Volunteer Reviewer


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Sunday, July 22, 2012

Photo of the Week: Week 30

This week Mom and I did a little shopping at IKEA. I got a super awesome (cheap!) coffee table, and a fabulous entry table.

And I put the finishing touches on the house in preparation for the house "Grand Opening."

Friday, my bestie and I did a little shopping. I got a few shirts for school and some awesome leopard print Ecco brand flats.

And... I found a $100 bill on the ground. Here is the story: Mom and I were in Home Depot looking for wood trim. There, you have to pay by the linear foot. So I trimmed a few pieces down. As we walked out, I found a wadded up bill on the ground. I picked it up (thinking it was a ten or a twenty.) I asked every person around if the cart it was next to was theirs. No one claimed the cart. I stood around for nearly ten minutes waiting to see if someone would search up and down the aisle for their bill. No one came. So I went to buy our trim. Laughing out loud, thinking it would be funny if I, too, allowed it to fall out of my pocket, I went to throw it in a pocket in my purse when I noticed a 1-0 and then another -0. $100! Freaking out I went back to the aisle I saw it and asked all the people standing around (again!) I waited around another ten minutes, searching for someone frantically searching. No one came. People looked at us crazy. So, I left. And my mom and I are now $50 richer.

1 comment:

  1. Crazy story, but awesome that you got money AND you were a nice person and tried to return it! : )

    And I'm glad my blog post helped! : )

    -Mel the Crafty Scientist


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Monday, November 28, 2016

6 New Releases this week 11/28 plus Giveaway of AVALANCHE

Happy Monday! Don't forget to check out all the new releases and enter to win below.

Happy Reading,

Shelly, Sam, Jocelyn, Martina, Erin, Susan, Michelle, Laura, Anisaa, and Kristin

* * * *

by Melinda Braun
Signed Hardcover Giveaway
U.S. Only

Simon Pulse
Released 11/29/2016

Two groups of teens—those waiting to be saved and those doing the saving—are in a race against time and a battle against Mother Nature after an avalanche traps them in an isolated cabin in this chilling novel.

“I promise it’ll be a weekend you’ll never forget.”

A trip like that is exactly what Matt was hoping for—a fun adventure. A daring escape. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to go cross country skiing in a thrilling but dangerous pass through the Rocky Mountains. The perfect way for Matt to forget about his disappointing father and maybe let loose a little with his best friend and a group of carefree adrenaline junkies.

But then their guide takes them off-path … and straight into an avalanche. By the time they make it safely into an abandoned cabin, one skier is dead and another severely injured. Trapped with no heat, no water, and no radio the group decides to wait it out. Help will come. It has to.

Until it doesn’t. And Matt knows if they wait any longer they’ll be dead—just another bunch of victims in Mother Nature’s twisted games. Armed with only a handful of supplies and his fierce determination Matt decides to goes head-to-head with the elements, battling hypothermia, frostbite, and even mountain lions in order to find help and save them all. That is if Mother Nature doesn’t kill him first.

Purchase Avalanche at Amazon
Purchase Avalanche at IndieBound
View Avalanche on Goodreads

Fate of Flames by Sarah Raughley: Any B.
Gap Life by John Coy: Ellie M.

* * * *

Dear Yvette
by Ni-Ni Simone
Released 11/29/2016

All sixteen year old Yvette Simmons wanted was to disappear. Problem is: she has too many demons for that. Yvette’s life changed forever after a street fight over a boy ended in a second degree murder charge. Forced to start all over again, she’s sentenced to live in a group home far from anything or anyone she’s ever known. She manages to keep her past hidden, until a local cutie, known as Brooklyn, steps in. Slowly, Yvette lets him into her heart and he gives her the summer of her dreams...

But in Yvette’s world things are never as they seem.

Brooklyn has a few secrets of his own and Yvette’s past comes back with a vengeance. Will she face life head-on? Will she return to her old ways? Or will an unexpected letter decide her fate?

Purchase Dear Yvette at Amazon
Purchase Dear Yvette at IndieBound
View Dear Yvette on Goodreads

* * * *

Frozen Charlotte
by Alex Bell
Scholastic Press
Released 11/29/2016

An instantly gripping, edge-of-your-seat thriller filled with haunted dolls, creepy settings, and horrific twists.

When fifteen-year-old Sophie's best friend dies abruptly under mysterious circumstances, Sophie sets off to stay with her uncle and cousins on the remote Isle of Skye. It's been years since she last saw her cousins -- brooding Cameron with his scarred hand; Piper, who seems too perfect to be real; and peculiar little Lilias with her fear of bones.

Sophie knows that in her uncle's house, there are rules she must follow: Make no mention of Cameron's accident. Never leave the front gate unlocked. Above all, don't speak of the girl who's no longer there, the sister whose room lies empty of all but the strange antique dolls she left behind.

As Sophie begins to explore the old house, a former academy for girls shut down long ago, she discovers unsettling secrets that shed light on a dark and dangerous history. But there are some secrets Sophie never expected to uncover. Secrets about her own family. Secrets that suggest Sophie may be in more danger than she could have ever imagined.

Purchase Frozen Charlotte at Amazon
Purchase Frozen Charlotte at IndieBound
View Frozen Charlotte on Goodreads

* * * *

Girls in the Moon
by Janet McNally
Released 11/29/2016

An exquisitely told, authentic YA debut about family secrets, the shadow of fame, and finding your own way.

Everyone in Phoebe Ferris’s life tells a different version of the truth. Her mother, Meg, ex–rock star and professional question evader, shares only the end of the story—the post-fame calm that Phoebe’s always known. Her sister, Luna, indie-rock darling of Brooklyn, preaches a stormy truth of her own making, selectively ignoring the facts she doesn’t like. And her father, Kieran, the cofounder of Meg’s beloved band, hasn’t said anything at all since he stopped calling three years ago.

But Phoebe, a budding poet in search of an identity to call her own, is tired of half-truths and vague explanations. When she visits Luna in New York, she’s determined to find out how she fits in to this family of storytellers, and to maybe even continue her own tale—the one with the musician boy she’s been secretly writing for months. Told in alternating chapters, Phoebe’s first adventure flows as the story of Meg and Kieran’s romance ebbs, leaving behind only a time-worn, precious pearl of truth about her family’s past—and leaving Phoebe to take a leap into her own unknown future.

Purchase Girls in the Moon at Amazon
Purchase Girls in the Moon at IndieBound
View Girls in the Moon on Goodreads

Tell us what you think. We'd love to hear from you! :)


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About me

Hi! I am Asta! I am a philologist and a philocalist to the heart's core. Here I share things that I consider being aesthetic and fantastic!

11 Jul 2016

My New Companions: Review

I already wrote about one of my last findings - Mixa cream - in one of my previous posts. This time I've tested some new beauty products and decided that it's time for another review!


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About me

Hi! I am Asta! I am a philologist and a philocalist to the heart's core. Here I share things that I consider being aesthetic and fantastic!

2 Jan 2021

Witcherbounding: Ursine Armour

Although CD Projekt Red, a Polish game developing and publishing company lately has been attracting most of the media attention due to an underwhelming (to put it mildly) release of "Cyberpunk 2077" game, they were also the ones to grace us with such games as "The Witcher" trilogy. Being a complete fan of the video game series, and currently playing the "Blood and Wine" expansion, I decided to pay an homage to "The Witcher III: Wild Hunt" and recreate Geralt's iconic armours, using the contents of my closet. As this winter we are blessed with copious amounts of snow (compared with the last one), I decided to start with Ursine armour that I strongly associate with Skellige Isles.

The whole idea of the Witcherbounding came after stumbling across the phenomenon of Dysneybounding, where people interpret the outfits of Dysney characters and incorporate colours, silhouettes,  and other specific elements into their everyday looks. After a quick revision of my closet, I decided to go with Enhanced Ursine Armour, because it has quite a few layers and this is what I consider appropriate for a long walks in the woods.

The three main colours in Enhanced Ursine Armour are (dirty) grey, brown and moss green. They are layered, so I also attempted to repeat this same order. Although I had to omit the brown leather vest, because I do not posses such a thing, and buying one just for this project seemed a bit unreasonable. So, I chose to wear this old Lindex wool coat, a vintage wool skirt, a pair of thrifted knee-high lace-up brown leather boots, a pair of black leather gloves from H&M, and a Lindex kintted scarf that resembles the pattern of a chainmail.

Underneath I wore a sweater that also resembles chainmail, as well as a wide thrifted vintage belt (because belts are an important part of every ensemble that Geralt wears in the games and this one has a round metal buckle, similar to decorations on his vest). Let's not forget the Wolf medallion, that is always sensing some magic nearby (*inhales and whispers: "Medallion's humming, place of power... gotta be."*).

Although invisible in the pictures, I also wore a splash of perfume, Amouage Epic, to be more precise. This is one woody and spicy scent, I would even say green, very suitable for winter and complimenting the outfit perfectly.

All in all, it was fun to piece together the outfit and, surprisingly, even with the longer skirt it was very comfortable to roam the woods!.. Long boots really protect the legs from snow and cold, so 10/10 would recommend.

Stay safe and see you in my next post!

P.S. This is my second photoshoot with this outfit, because I didn't feel too happy with the quality of the photos from my phone, so I took a trusty DSLR camera to the woods.

Photos © Aesthastic


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Thursday, 18 July 2013

The most important meal of the day

On the way sending my girls to school this morning, my stomach started rumbling.  My mind started to search for a place to get my breakfast, and still the most convenient place is a little shop under the staircase in the complex where my office is, I could also get a parking space easily at the early hour.

I grabbed a packet of fried meehoon and a box of nasi lemak. Usually I would eat one and leave one for my lunch.  But not today, I finished both during breakfast. so I started my day with heavy breakfast today and soon I am feeling sleepy on my work desk, yet another sleepy day at work.

I am wondering why am I so hungry these few days?  Could it be due to the additional vitamins I started to consume recently?

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, I really do not mind having heavy breakfast, preferably a healthier ones, and a lighter lunch.

  1. yes, very true!! i really don't mind to have a heavy breakfast, as many people say "breakfast like a king".. i guess it's perfectly alright for you to have both fried beehoon and nasi lemak at one go once in a while, but not everyday lah right?? hehehe~~

    1. You are right SK, can not have nasi lemak every day..wholemeal bread would be a better choice.

  2. i would prefer a light breakfast. I just can't stomach a bowl of noodles in the morning. but I can during lunch or dinner. haha...

  3. Nasi lemak as breakfast sounds very nice leh! It's been a while since I had nasi lemak!

  4. It's almost dinner time...Looking at your nasi lemak picture is making me crave for it!!! Yummy!

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Nina Sublatti – Home (audio)

This week, the Georgian representative in the Eurovision Song Contest 2015 in Vienna, Nina Sublatti, released new single "Home". The dark and hypnotic track, written by Nina herself, is taken from her forthcoming sophomore album and follows up "Spiritual" with The Mins. Nina announced the release of her new song via Facebook with this [...]


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Ross Harris – Man overboard (audio)

Ross Harris is a singer-songwriter-producer from West Bromwich, UK. He established a name for himself in the music industry as drummer performing alongside the likes of Busted, Craig David, Duke Dumont, Ella Henderson and Rhys Lewis. After releasing a brilliant debut single "Compound fracture" last year, Harris delivers the second single "Man overboard". About [...]


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Patient, Knowledgeable, and Efficient

John Cuerva helped me resolve a trust matter. He reviewed the trust and explained all the legal language in a way that I could easily understand. He was patient, knowledgeable, and efficient with his time. He clearly laid out all of my options and clearly explained the pros and cons of each option. His advice helped me make the right decision that I am very happy with. I would definitely go back to him if I had another legal question.

  • Wills and Trusts client, Marin County


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March 8, 2015

Author Jonathan Allen says the Hillary Clinton organization has a number of “blind spots.” Is her use of private email for government business one of them? Former Obama economic adviser Jared Bernstein urges the Fed to be patient about raising interest rates. And Bill Press talks with journalist and author April Ryan about the Justice Department’s report on Ferguson, Missouri.

  • March 8, 2015 March 8, 2015 Jonathan Allen on Hillary Clinton’s blind spots … Jared Bernstein on economic recovery … and Bill Press with guest April Ryan on the Ferguson report.
  • Jonathan Allen Jonathan Allen Hillary Clinton biographer Jonathan Allen says it remains to be seen how much the email controversy will haunt Clinton, but it is an example of why it made sense for her to delay announcing for president.
  • Jared Bernstein Jared Bernstein Why are Democrats and Wall Street so cozy? Economist Jared Bernstein says it’s because investors see politics as just another market to invest in.
  • April Ryan April Ryan Bill Press and author April Ryan discuss the Ferguson report.
  • Jim Hightower Jim Hightower The GOP gang of Supremes go after Obamacare.

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Paratha #FoodnFlix

I am sliding in right before the deadline for this month Food‘n Flix recipe!  This month’s movie is The Lunchbox, hosted by Camilla from Culinary Adventures with Camilla.

At first, I thought I’d have to sit this movie out, because February was so crazy busy!  Plus I was having trouble finding a copy of the movie.  But then, a bit of time freed up and the movie was available for rental on Amazon!  Win!

Then the movie started: subtitles.  Ugh.

Thankfully, there is quite a bit of (heavily accented) English in the movie, making the subtitles and story much easier to follow.  Hubs and I very much enjoyed the movie!

The premise is that a young woman sends her husband a lunch every day using Mumbai’s lunch delivery service.  Her husband works a lot and seems to ignore her (and their daughter) the few times he is home.

Then, somehow, the lunch starts getting to delivered to a different man (quite by accident).  He is on the verge of an early retirement and rather stuck in his ways.

Eventually they begin a correspondence through the lunchbox and begin to help one another.

It was a nice story, though the ending was a bit bittersweet.

Next, it was time to make something delicious from the movie.  Problem is, I’m not very familiar with Indian food.  I’ve already made Chicken Tikka Masala and Chapati and that’s pretty much the extent of my familiarity with Indian food.

Thanks to the subtitles, I was able to jot down a recipe name or two.  After the movie was over, I started googling.  Several of the recipes called for spice blends I’d never be able to find or replicate.  I was starting to get discouraged (and thinking again that I’d have to sit out) when I typed in the last recipe from my list: paratha.

Paratha is a flatbread, very similar to the chapatti I made before.  Paratha incorporates a bit more oil and there is a slightly different method for rolling that give paratha its triangular shape (you’ll have to trust me on that – I managed to not get a photo of the unfolded paratha).

Truth be told, I prefer the chapati to paratha, but it was fun to try a different sort of flatbread!

Recipe from Padhu’s Kitchen

1 cup whole wheat flour
Pinch of salt
1-2 tbsp neutral oil, divided (I used canola)
5-7 tablespoons warm water

Place the flour, salt, 2 teaspoons oil, and water in a bowl.  Mix with your hands until the dough comes together to form a soft, but not sticky, ball.

Cover the dough ball with a kitchen towel and allow it to rest for 15-20 minutes.

Next, separate the dough into 6 equal sized balls.

Working one at a time, lightly dust a dough ball with flour.  Place the dough ball onto a work surface (I roll directly on my counter) and flatten.  Use a rolling pin to roll into a small circle.

Brush a small amount of oil over the circle, then fold over into a half circle.

Brush a little oil over the half circle and fold again to form a triangle.

Dust the triangle lightly with flour.  Then, roll out into a thin triangle.

Heat a skillet (or tawa) over medium heat.

Place the paratha onto the skillet, and cook until small bubbles begin to appear.  Then, brush lightly with oil and flip, and brush the other side with oil.

As it cooks, the paratha will puff up.  Use a wooden spoon to lightly press on the paratha to encourage the whole thing to puff.

Cook until brown spots appear and turn crispy.

Repeat with remaining dough balls.

Makes 6 Parathas

  1. I considered the paratha as well Amy. Glad you were able to join us after all.

  2. That looks great. I love bread in any form.

  3. I have never heard of paratha before, totally gonna make this bread.

  4. I love any sort of flatbread, and these look like they turned out perfectly - I just want to rip into one!

  5. I LOVE this. Sadly, my husband is gluten-free for awhile and my gluten-free flour blend needs some work. Maybe I'll just have to make this for myself and the boys!

  6. So glad you found a dish and joined in Amy. Your paratha looks fabulous and easy to hide a note in. ;-) I love how you have served it too--it's perfect with the rice and egg.

  7. I was intrigued about the "Hinglish" in the film. I would find myself not having to read the subtitles and then, BAM, "What are they talking about?" Will have to try this recipe for your bread soon.

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Chakra workshop

The subtle body is a part of you that you can't see or touch.

It's where your energy flows.

When energy is blocked, it can trigger physical, mental or emotional imbalances

that can manifest as anxiety, lethargy or poor digestion to name a few.

Through the use of a well-planned yoga practice,

and the help of appropriate crystals

we will explore the chakras...what they represent and how to achieve balance.

What makes our retreats unique?

We feel it’s important to tap into your creative mind...a part of ourselves that often gets neglected as our daily agendas become full. One does not need to be artistic to be creative.

It feels good to not know the outcome, to not necessarily have a plan, but with playful curiosity, to forge ahead anyway. And so very often, be delighted by our abilities.

We appreciate the gravity of today's world and wish to provide a lightness;

tools for you to take home with you and use when life gets too heavy..

Join us for yoga, nature, creation, meditation, all laced with humour and love.

Prior to the start of this workshop, you will receive a set of 7 crystals that will enhance your at home experience.

Weekly sessions:

Tues May 18 - 7:00pm - root chakra & sacral chakra

Tues May 25 - 7:00pm - solar plexus chakra & heart chakra

Tues June 1 - 7:00pm - throat chakra & third eye chakra

Tues June 8 - 7:00pm - crown chakra & summary

$75.00 includes crystals

and local shipment/delivery

shipping extra for distance participants

$60.00 without crystals

TUESDAYS MAY 18, 25, JUNE 1, 8


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A global information service about animal rights extremism

ARE Incident Map

FASEB report on Animal Rights Extremism

A new report by FASEB shows that animal rights extremists focused more on targeting individuals than research institutions in the 2000s.
The Federation of American Societies for Experimental Biology (FASEB) recently released a report entitled: “The Threat of Extremism to Medical Research: Best Practices to Mitigate Risk through Preparation and Communication”. This report has been covered by a number of science outlets including Science. Let us take a closer look at it.

First of all, it is important to note that the vast majority of those who oppose the use of animals in research do so in a legal and ethical manner. However, there remains a tiny minority of animal rights activists who resort to “illegal, threatening, and violent actions in support of their goal”. This report looks at the impact of those who pursue this illegal and misanthropic approach to reaching their goals. The most striking aspect of the report was that between the 1990s and 2000s there was a big swing in animal rights targets, from universities to individuals. This was calculated using data from The Foundation for Biomedical Research.

FASEB also noted that since the 2000s there had been an increase in secondary and tertiary targeting – something which has been particularly effective at preventing the transport of animals and thus raising the cost of animal research.

The most obvious change between the 1990s and 2000s is the change from animal rights activists targeting universities to individuals. The FASEB report makes a number of recommendations on how to mitigate the risks of animal rights extremism. For individuals who might be regarded as “high risk” due to the nature of the research they do, FASEB recommends:
  • Limiting the amount of personally identifiable information available online.
  • Using internet search tools (like Google Alerts) to monitor any animal rights activity about you
  • Be aware of the local laws regarding demonstrations, trespassing and harassment
  • Document any animal rights activity aimed at you, but do not engage directly with it
While, in some ways, the report may seem bleak – with an increase in individuals being targeted – the time frame used hides some important facts. The extremism mentioned from 2000-2012 was concentred in the early 2000s. Better policing and a more open approach to discussing animal research has helped cause a fall in animal rights extremism in many countries. For example, despite the apparent rise in the targeting of individuals, there have been no reports of individuals in the UK being directly targeted by illegal animal rights activism in the last five years.

The report also deals more positively with issues relating to openness, recommending institutions become more open and transparent to reduce risks. As the report says: “Open communication with the public on how animal research is conducted can foster good will and correct public misconceptions”. Ways of doing this include openly mentioning animals in the role of scientific breakthroughs at your institution, and building relationships with local and national reporters. Examples of successful transparency mentioned include the University of Leicester, which, in 2012, invited local and national journalists to tour its new facilities upon their opening.


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Monkeys to Humanoids

2567772104_2558e02457_mNovember 14, 2009
Humanity has not happened yet! This morning on the news was a piece on the ‘mischief’ of monkeys in the cities of India where gangs of them roam the streets jumping on cars, fruit stands and, anything appealing – in other words, paying little attention to ‘conscious decisions’ that are sensitive to others. Humans, for the most part, do they same thing only not so ‘blatant’.

Humans still are just above the ‘monkey’ and, having not that long ago, been presented with ‘technology’ that allows them unprecedented freedoms often used for ‘monkeying around’. We live in a time of ‘primitive consciousness’ where society is still, in regards to consciousness, very unevolved. The monkeys gather their ‘stashes’ of food, people spend most of their lives in pursuit of ‘stuff’ that masks their ‘love of self’ and, pursuit of a ‘heaven on earth’.

What can be more exciting than making this revolving graveyard of trillions of dead who came before, into a ‘paradise among planets’? Societies as they are must disappear be it Sweden, Italy, Germany, India, Japan or, the Christians and Muslims – on and on. These ‘separators’ are more and more meaningless. What has resulted other than ‘ethnic food and thousands of wars as well as incestuous breeding except during war when soldiers from foreign lands impregnate the locals? Tear down the ‘walls of non communication’!

The politicians and religious leaders have used this ignorance to perpetuate endless conflicts that keep humans on a treadmill of lower mind and heart, going no where. The ‘hocus pocus’ leaders somewhere in time got their hands on the ‘buttons’ and, keep passing on the ‘vile privilege’ from incestuous family to family. We must see beyond the blinders.

Open minded and loving people with awareness in consciousness will evolve into a humanity resembling ‘godliness’ instead of ‘apes, monkeys and baboons’. The ‘animal’ must disappear for humanity to blossom beyond the ‘idiot and moron’ state into ‘humans’. The vast majority are still ‘idiots’ needing to move to the transition stage of ‘moron’ or ‘more on’ where all ‘sensitive attributes’ are learned before becoming HUMAN!

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Our Law Offices
The Law Offices of Nicholas A. Artusi are dedicated to providing the best legal guidance and the best potential legal services to each of our clients.  The firm understands that the legal system can be overwhelming and difficult to understand.  That is why Nicholas Artusi strives to be there for you or your family through every step of the way!

Why We Are Committed To Our Area

Nicholas Artusi was born and raised in this area.  He attended the PHM school system and returned to this area to work after law school.  He currently resides in South Bend with his wife and is dedicated to helping those in this community.

Nicholas Artusi is a member of the Indiana and St. Joseph County Bar Associations.  He is licensed to practice in the State of Indiana and the Northern District of Indiana for Federal cases as well.

  • Payment plans are also available!
  • Free consultations are available everyday.
  • Please contact the firm and get an appointment set up to speak directly with Nicholas Artusi.


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Flixel is collection of AS3 files that helps organize, automate, and optimize Flash games. Some of the features:

  • Really fast renderer (5000+ sprites on modern PCs);
  • Tilemaps;
  • Particle systems;
  • Global sound system with volume hotkeys, looping, panning, etc;
  • Parallax scrolling (free/multi-directional);
  • Built-in 2D box-based game physics (not Box2D);
  • Fast text rendering;
  • Retro style zoomed rendering options (2x pixels, 3x pixels, etc);
  • Works great with non-pixel art too, with support for rotation, scaling;
  • Composite multiple sprites using blending modes to create sweet lighting effects;
  • Does not require the Flash IDE, works best with free tools like FlashDevelop;
  • Organizational classes like game states;
  • Simple buttons;
  • Utilities for looping music and playing sound FX;
  • Simple special effects like screen flashes and fades;
  • Save game data between sessions using a local shared object.
2D, Engines . URL.


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04 October 2012

Project Life-Week 37

And here we are with Week 37!  Another jam packed week.

Week 37

This week my sister's son, Jack, was baptized.  I am very blessed that they chose me to be his Godmother so this was definitely something that needed to be documented :)

I mean seriously, isn't he so cute!!
They also had there very first Food Truck Friday together which was awesome.

I added Jack's Baptism invitation as an insert.

I also made an insert with all of the photos from Amelia getting her ear's pierced plus the sticker they gave her and the receipt (so I have the date recorded)

By the end of the week I realized that I hadn't taken many photos for the week, plus most of my week was consumed with working so I used the last page to document the mood board for Amelia's nursery makeover!  I love that it's here and that it's huge.
That's it for week 37 friends.

Would you like to know more about Project Life? You can read all about it here. You can also check out more of my Project Life pages right here!

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Beautiful! OnePlus 5 has new image cast in silver version

The OnePlus 5 will hit the market early in the third quarter and is likely to be announced during IFA 2017 or at a previous Chinese company’s own event. So far, we have had a lot of important information leaked about it, the great news is the partnership with DxO Labs, which means that at last, we can have a Chinese flagship that stands out in new image.

Now, an new image of the alleged OnePlus 5 has been published on the Weibo social network, reaffirming the design already seen on some previous occasions. Unlike some leaked prototypes, the silver-colored device has its two rear cameras arranged vertically, with the two LEDs used for the flash positioned between them.

Beautiful! OnePlus 5 has new image cast in silver version

In addition, we do not have stripes for the antennas as prominent as they were widely publicized until then, their body made in a single piece of aluminum with the stripes probably positioned at the upper and lower ends. If this is confirmed, we will have something much more discreet and uniform, which should please those who did not identify with the previous leaks.

Like its predecessors, OnePlus 5 will bring the most powerful in terms of hardware, thus seeking to deal with flagships like Samsung Galaxy S8 and Xiaomi Mi 6. In case the company once again can deliver this for a price well below which is charged by its rivals, it is likely that once again we have a model worthy of the nickname of “killer of flagships” that OnePlus boasts since its first device.

In general, OnePlus 5 is expected to have:

  • 5.5-inch screen with Full HD resolution (1920 x 1080 pixels)
  • Chipset Qualcomm Snapdragon 835 64-bit Octa-Core with maximum clock up to 2.45 GHz
  • Adreno 540 as graphics card
  • 6 GB or 8 GB of RAM
  • 64 GB, 128 GB or 256 GB of space for internal storage
  • Main camera with two 16 megapixel sensors
  • Front camera also 16 megapixels
  • 3,600 mAh battery
  • Android 7.1.1 Nougat under the Oxygen interface as operating system

Beautiful! OnePlus 5 has new image cast in silver version

Unfortunately, European users interested in OnePlus 5 are very likely to need to start importing, since none of their predecessors was officially marketed on soil, and this is unlikely to happen in this generation.

Source: Androidheadlines

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Honestly, for a long time I was unable to gather my acts together and it was impacting on my training negatively. I kept pondering over mum’s words again and again.

Vee was happy with me. That, I was sure of.

From the way she smiled at me to the puppy-like shyness in her eyes whenever I walked into the room, there was no doubt she felt the same way about me. Severally, I’ve told her ‘I love you so much, Vee’ and she’d responded with ‘I love you so much too, Ayegba’.

So, how could she possibly run after someone else?

Or, what different ‘something’ could whoever came around in my absence have shown her enough to make her trade every single thing we shared?

          These and many more thoughts tortured me day and night. One day, I wake up mad at Vee for everything she was making me go through, the next day, I am mad at mum for ever making it easy for her to even escape at all. I was sure she was behind it. Either ways, I let bitterness overwhelm me. I felt dead inside. My throat constantly felt as if someone was thrusting a handful of itching mites inside. I felt empty in a way that I hadn’t experienced before. It was similar to how I felt the day dad died. Even that was milder. Little wonder, they likened heartbreak to death feeling.

          When we were halfway through August, our commanding officer broke an unexpected news to everyone. We were being deployed to Sambisa forest to face the insurgents.

How so?

It sounded impossible until we saw the official release and the increased rigor in our training. It was then reality dawned on us all.

       Later in the year when we arrived at Sambisa forest, I willed myself to move past my pain at all cost. The sadness was still there, but not raw anymore – it became an empty unhappiness – the kind that never easily lifts. I felt like I could hear a news that’s as bad as the death of my mother and not feel a thing. My surroundings were exactly the same. Everything – sky, ground, building – all the colour of desert dirt. Yet none gave me any emotion. I knew I needed emotions. I needed emotions to feel alive, to feel love.

      I stayed up late into the night every night even when a considerable task laid ahead of us the next morning. I rolled from one side to another holding a secret conversation with the lady called sleep who’d also deserted me like Vee.

         One fateful night, I flopped onto my back and stared at the dark ceiling. Next to me, Mona was snoring. Rumbling like a slow freight train. I forcibly closed my eyes and tried to find that calm place in my mind. The one I needed to find every night before I could fall asleep these days. Mona and I had read the bible that night, the book of Jeremiah chapter one. In it was the verse I thought about often when we were out in the hot danger zones. “Be not afraid of their faces, for I am with thee to deliver thee, saith the lord.” Indeed it was only God that was keeping us through each passing day.

         Two more soldiers had died on our second week. Two guys I knew closely. They’d been traveling in a caravan from one location to another when a car loaded with explosives and traveling the opposite direction crossed the middle line and drove straight into them.

My company and I had seen the fireball from a mile away. Suicide bombers. More terrorists. More insurgents.

          A long sigh pressed through my lips. We should have twice as many troops in Sambisa Forest and around every hot spot in the Northeastern part of Nigeria. Additional surveillance equipment should be brought in, and the army and the marines should be given the green light to do whatever it took to get the insurgents. I hated that we seemed often to be sitting ducks, always on the defensive and never making the first move.

But how could we have increased our efforts when some powers that be were not behind us fully, completely?

         I got up and flicked up the light overhead. Sleep was useless. Maybe I’d find some peace if I spent time looking through some of the pictures Vee and I had taken together on my phone. That was the sole reason I sneaked my phone in after all.

        I studied the photo of Vee and I. We were out in the backyard of the house. She was laughing so hard. She was so beautiful. On the outside, yes. But that wasn’t what I saw when I looked into her eyes for the first time. I saw the person she was on the inside, her soul. She’d promised me that she was going to channel all her energy into studying hard while I was away, so she could “be like me when she grew up” she said.

I smiled at the thought. Vee… I ran my thumb over the image of her face. You should never have left me like this. I promised you I was coming back. Didn’t I?

I yawned and swiped my phone’s screen slowly, taking in the light that came from Vee’s eyes, her smile. People think soldiers were young men who had no fears. But that wasn’t true. Every day it was an effort to head out to the forest knowing that something could happen to me, something that would keep me from ever seeing Vee again… if she was still alive.

That was my secret, courage in the face of fear.
I smiled at the last final photo, the selfie we took in my room the night to my departure. The two of us looked about as happy as any couple in the world. We never knew we were hours from saying good-bye… forever.

Twice, Mona had made concerted efforts to steal a glance at whatever it was I stared at on my phone at night. All to no avail.

I yawned again. The elusive calm filled my mind. I tiredly dropped my phone deep down into the pocket of my baggy fatigues instead of deep underneath my box where I usually hid it. And in what felt like five minutes, I heard Mona’s voice in my ear.

“Come on, lazy bone. Get up!” Mona was in his boxers, one leg in his fatigues, one foot trying to find the other leg hole. “We’re late.”

“Late?” I shot up in bed. “What about the alarm?”

“Didn’t go off, I guess. A few guys from down the hall pounded on the door.” Mona jumped a few times in place and pulled his fatigues all the way up. “All I know is we have five minutes before the caravan takes off.”

Five minutes? I groaned. I was up and ready in seconds because I slept in my fatigues. With a minute to spare, we hurried outside and jumped into our spots in the military vehicle – me, behind the wheel as the assigned driver for that mission.

“You guys would have got us in trouble today.” Idris, the guy whose room is next to ours jeered.

“Yeah, well –” Mona was still tucking his pant legs into his boots – “lover boy here kept the lights on all night.”

“Not all night.” I started the engine. Waited until the car in front of me pulled out and then I gave a burst of gas and our vehicle fell into line.

“Girl trouble, huh?” Idris continued. “Forget about her, Ocheme. Distractions are never good.”

“She’s not a distraction.” I mouthed a sarcastic thank-you in Mona’s direction. “I am doing really okay.”

“Right. He can’t fall asleep until he’d counted all the stripes on the ceiling.” Mona elbowed me, his eyes dancing as I steered the vehicle with one hand.

“How sweet.” Idris said. “Did you get briefed on the mission today?”

“Last night, same as everyone else.” I replied, ignoring the way the bumpy road jarred my back.

“We’re checking out another abandoned building, right?” Mona leaned his head against the doorframe and closed his eyes. “if we can stay awake.”

“You better stay awake. Those merciless insurgents don’t hesitate in pulling the trigger on any uniformed man.” I kept my eyes on the road. Ahead of us the caravan of cars was hard to see through the cloud of dust coming up off the road.

The merciless insugents. I let the words roll around in my mind, my soul. We’d done these sort of trips many times. We get a tip that gunfire or bombs had come from so so location, and then we go in kicking down doors and breaking in. Too many times to count. Medics willing to work the frontline were always needed. It was always bloody.

I stifled another yawn and held the steering wheel with both hands. Most of the time out in the field, I didn’t have time to remember Vee or the numbing pain on the left side of my chest from persistent thoughts of her. But that fateful day, we were traveling from one end of Maiduguri to the other. I was driving so most conversations weren’t directed to me. The two and half drive meant plenty of time to think about Vee. I allowed my mind to daydream about the day I would find her and how the drama would play out.

I would ask her one important question immediately, the one I couldn’t wait to ask. I let my mind imagine it all taking place. How I would get a ring, take her down to a waterfront and we’d find a cruise ship. We would go on a private late night sail, and there – right under the blanket of stars and galaxies, – I would ask her to marry me.

I imagined her eyes glazing hot as the dusty wind sweeps against my face. She would hug my neck and tell me yes over and over and over again. And we would talk about churches and flowers and colours and bridesmaids. And the months will pass and we would hold the wedding reception as a private beachside party in the cool of the night.

She would look like an angel in her beautiful white wedding dress and I will stand there, trying to breathe as she made her way down the aisle and –

      The explosion happened so fast I didn’t have time to react. One second I was standing in a church somewhere in Ankpa, dressed to the nines, watching my bride, Vee walk down the aisle towards me, and the next…

Nothing had been louder in all my life. It shook me and mixed with the sound of breaking glass and disintegrating metal. The pain hit then, ripping through me with a heat and intensity that left me dazed. I couldn’t draw a breath, couldn’t feel my legs, couldn’t see anything but deep wet red and muddy brown, and fire and smoke.

I screamed her name because maybe that was part of the dream too. Maybe I’d fallen asleep and the sliver of fear, the one that never quite went away, had magnified a thousand times over and created a hellish nightmare. Yes, that had to be it.

I shouted her name, but I couldn’t hear myself, couldn’t make the words loud enough to actually be heard. And then, in a rush, the explosion faded, the noise stopped, and I felt myself land hard against the road.

That when I realized what was happening. I wasn’t dreaming. I must’ve hit a roadside bomb. Somehow the cars in front of us missed it, and ours…

Ours had taken the hit.

The hot feeling grew worse with every attempt I made at breathing. And what about my legs? I couldn’t feel them. I opened my eyes, struggled to see a sliver of light. God… no, not now. Please, don’t let me die here. I need to find Vee.

Vee! Again the sound of my own voice wouldn’t quite clear my throat.

“Vee… I am sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I wanted to come find you…

There were feet shuffling near my head, feet and the shouts of voices.

“Ayegba!” It was Mona, I’d know his voice anywhere.

“Mona?” I blinked hard, once, twice, and finally… finally opened my eyes.

My friend was kneeling over me, his uniform and his face were splattered with blood and dirt. And something else. Tears. “Mona… what…” I coughed. Couldn’t catch my breath. “What happened?”

Mona clenched his fists and leaned his head back. “Help! Someone get us help over here! Now!”

“Mona…” My strength was leaving me. The burning feeling was worse, but now it felt like my lungs were filling up, like I was drowning, only there wasn’t any water and my mouth was parched. I held out Mona’s hand. “Talk to me, Mona.”

“Ayegba, hang on, please.” Mona dropped to his knees and took my hand. “They’re coming, okay? Help is coming.”

“What… about my legs?”

“Don’t look, man. Keep your eyes on me, okay?” He looked over his shoulders and the intensity in his scream was frightening. “Hurry! We need help now!”

I turned my head just a little and there were two of the guys in the car with us earlier, their bodies ripped to shreds. A roadside bomb. That must have been it. Those guys were gone. No one was hovering over them, no one looking to help them.

So that meant that I still had a chance, right?

I was alive. Mona was calling for help. But what about my legs? And Mona … what about Mona?”

“Mona, my guy, are you okay?” my eyes were closed again, and I fought to open them. Blood was trickling down the right side of Mona’s face. “You’re injured o, My guy … put … put pressure on that place.”

“No!” Mona sounded panicked. He shook his head hard and lay his entire body across me, across the upper part of my legs just above my knees. “We have to stop the bleeding.” He shouted again. “We need to stop the bleeding. Someone … someone, help!”

I wanted to say something but it felt drugged, like I was in the middle of an intense sleep and nothing – nothing at all – could wake me. I was getting married, wasn’t I? Watching Vee walk down the aisle toward me?

“Stay alive, Ayegba. Hang in there!” Mona was crying now. Mona, the almighty Mona who never took anything very seriously, was crying. “Don’t leave me! Please, Ayegba, don’t leave me!”

“Okay…” I ran my tongue over my lower lip. “Mona… my… guy… pray.”

Mona nodded, his motions quick and jerky, frantic. “God!” He stared up at the sky. “God … help us! Please!”

I gave a slight nod. I wanted to say something more but my mouth wouldn’t work. I couldn’t draw a full breath. The heat pulsing through me was too great.

“Ayegba!” Mona was crying harder. “Remember you have to find your girl, man. Your love. Remember? Don’t quit on me.”

Running feet came up from a couple directions and I could hear other voices.

“Too much blood loss…”

“There’s nothing to save …”

“Get him on a stretcher …”

“He is still breathing … we have to try.”

The words and sentences blended together, but they told me what I already suspected. My legs were probably gone. Mona was lying across me, and that’s all that had kept me from probably bleeding to death. Just like the two soldiers on the other side.

Soon, they were trying to move me but I didn’t want to go. Not until I could talk to Mona. I squinted and black circles rolled around in my vision. I was out of air, out of strength.

“You have to stay alive to find your girl, buddy.” Mona dragged his free hand across his cheeks. His nose was runny, and his tears mixed with the blood on his face. “Remember you mum too. You’re all she’s got.”

I saw my life draining away. I felt dizzy, desperate to close my eyes and get back to my dream, the one where Vee was walking toward me. My beautiful bride. The pain was unbearable, the heaviness and burning and heat that filled my body. Tears streamed down Mona’s face as the stretcher moved but he wasn’t shouting, wasn’t screaming for help anymore.

“I love you, Ayegba. Please don’t go.”

I felt myself smile. Deep inside me, I felt my heart struggle. Beat … beat. Long pause. Another beat. My pulse slowed down and faded.

Vee, please take care of yourself wherever you are for me.

Her face, her deep brown eyes, were the last things I saw.

My thoughts blurred and my eyes closed, and in the flash of an instant, the darkness was filled with a million shining moments.

They probably got me to the hospital just before I drew my last breath because that’s how I could have survived such explosion. My survival shocked everyone, including Mona. I stayed in the Intensive Care Unit of the military hospital for nine months and two days. The doctors repeatedly said my recovery was a huge miracle.

Shortly after I was discharged, I was summoned to the appear at the base, where the ‘almighty council’ shall be sitting on my case.
Aside the pain on the posterior part of my left foot, in my opinion, I was fully back. But the council had other plans.

“Ocheme,” the highest ranking officer called out to me. He was struggling to fix his gaze on me or the white paper in his hand.

He started talking and talking and talking. How that judging from antecedents, I’d proven incapable of the rigour of being in the Nigerian army. That the last mission, to them, was a silent last chance to see if I could prove my bravery yet again.

They didn’t plant the roadside bomb.

A reliable source disclosed to them that the insurgents got details of that morning’s trip from one of the officers on patrol. He emphasized that one of the gravest offenses as stated in the armed forces Act was communication with and/or aiding the enemy. He quoted something about part twelve, section forty-five, subsection D of the armed forces act. Or, so I heard.

“… whoever furnishes the enemy with arms or ammunition or with supplies of any description…” he reads on.
They’d found a cell phone in my fatigues. Whatever that means. I wanted to interrupt him. To tell him that I had no contact with no enemy and that my phone being in my fatigues was a terrible mistake on my part. Instead, I let him read to the end.

“…liable on conviction by a court martial, to suffer death…” my heartbeat skipped a million times at the mention of death. “…or any less punishment provided by this act.”

The officer closed the book and held my gaze. His eyes carried immense pity for me. Here was a just wounded-to-the-point-of-death soldier who just returned from almost a year long hospital admission facing the council. He must have imagined how unlucky I was. He cleared his throat and began talking from my acknowledged feats, especially in the first few months, until the drastic withdrawal season. He proceeded to say that my carelessness cost them the lives of fellow soldiers.

 I let him continue nonstop as I listened on. I knew where all those would eventually end.

“Considering all these, we have decided to let you go.” He said finally at the same time with my thoughts.

I watched my world spiral to an end right in front of my very eyes.

Mona walked to the door after I entered the room. He’d heard about the decision of the council before I got out. His father told him. It was because of his father that I wasn’t charged to court or executed in the first place. Mona said he explained everything to his old man – what I used my phone for, that is – but there was a limit to what he could do considering the conditions. I defaulted and must be made to face the wrath of the law, however little.

“Buddy!” Mona called from his position afar off, hanging onto the door frame as though afraid to draw nearer me. “Promise me you’d pick up!” The words sounded hard falling off his lips.

I looked at him with a tightening in my throat and saw tears welling up in his eyes. “I will. And… be good too.” I said as I dragged my bag over the concrete floor.
Outside, the soldiers assigned to escort me led me out of the base, each flanking me in front and behind.

         Lagos rightly felt like the next place to go. It’s not called ‘a no man’s land for a reason’. I couldn’t go back to my mother. Aside being mad at her, I didn’t think breaking the news that her son had been expelled from the army would do any good to her emotional state.

        A friend from my university days agreed to accommodate me for two months during which period I planned to get a job and move out. My mind considered a million job options I should take up and nothing quite fitted. Everyday, as I walked the street, I imagined running into Vee.
Funnily enough, one evening, I saw a lady from a distance. She had same body build and walked exactly like my Vee. I immediately left off the apples I was buying and ran across the expressway in a flash to find her. By the time I arrived, she’d walked into Landmark centre, so I dashed in afterwards even when she was out of sight. I scanned through the transparent glass doors of all the shops lined up in front of the auditoriums, ran into the auditorium to meet it empty. I let my shoulder drop in frustration as I trudged back to the door.

“How may we help you?” a lady’s voice startled me from behind.

I turned around to see someone wearing rubber gloves and holding onto a mopping stick. Drawing closer, I saw it’s the same lady that made me run like Michael Bolt even with an injured foot. She wasn’t in the dress she was wearing when I saw her anymore. She’s changed into a not so neat cleaner’s uniform. And… of course, she’s not Vee.

“I… ehm…” I stammered and took few steps backwards. “Never mind!” I said and dashed out of the auditorium in a hurry. Her eyes must have trailed me down the road, thinking I’d gone bananas but I cared less.

I let the cool misty air ushering in the cold night flog my face as I walked on. I had not the slightest idea how long I’d walked so far, I continued anyway, preferring it to joining a danfo. I turned into sharper bends, looking out for a solitary road where I can let myself drown in my thoughts.

How life had shown me pepper within a short unimaginable time.

As I walked on, down the lonely street I’d turned into, I heard some loud voices from a narrow corridor leading somewhere not visible from where I was standing on the left side of the road. Taking calming breaths, I hurry in that direction, my footsteps echoing sharply around the deserted area, sounding overly loud in my own ears, like the booming heartbeat of a condemned prisoner. The smell of smoke, and other substances my nose couldn’t quite place came stronger as I drew nearer.

        When I leaned in to peep, I realized what was going on but it was too late because the supposed leader of the three had seen me. He muttered some threats on how I was going to die there for poke-nosing. It was then I sighted a young man lying helplessly on the dirty floor. His nose filled with a whitish powder and he looked numb and… maybe dead.

        Instinctively, I hurried over to him and tried to raise him to a sitting position but he dropped down my hand, collapsing onto the floor like a sack of sweet potatoes. A part of me feared that the three boys might attempt to beat me up. The other part of me was ready to unleash hell on whoever drew near me. They may just become the dumping ground for all the pain, anger and frustration I’d swallowed in all my life.

“Let’s help him.” I pleaded on seeing breath fade away from the young man’s chest.

The three guys laughed me to scorn as though I’d just hosted a stand up comedy. They drew long hisses, picked up their jackets and bottle of gin and left. I was afraid. The dying young man must have inhaled a dangerous substance, maybe weed. If he dies in my hands, I may be finally charged for murder.

Another charge.

Perhaps I should run away. Leave like those guys too. Moreover, I don’t know him neither do I owe him.

I gently let the stranger’s back down, dusted my palms on my jean trousers and walked towards where I came in from.

At the exit, I couldn’t bear to leave so I dashed back in and started searching his body for anything: phone, ID card, any emergency stuff. Unfortunately, the only items there were his car key, three credit cards and a few one thousand naira notes.

I got frantic and at loss for what next to do. Maybe, handpick him and go out in search of help? Again, I affirmed that it shouldn’t be my business but I was under some sort of compulsion to save his life.

           My forearm mistakenly pressed down the car key in his pocket as I struggled to lift him. A loud security alarm sounded loudly outside. I dropped him hastily and hurried over there only to see lights blinking from a car I’d just admired so much a while ago. It was the only one parked on the street, so must be his.
With that, I lifted him into my arms, dropped him at the backseat of his car, asked Google for the direction to the closest health facility around. When my screen popped with all the options, I marched hard on the pedal and swung the car back to the road.

        Thankfully, the doctor in charge of the hospital I found appeared to know the young man’s father. Everyone, actually. The nurses smiled at him knowingly as they set his line. Perhaps, he was a regular there. Drug addict?
Barely half an hour later, a young lady who introduced herself as Shakira, the younger sister to the patient, arrived. She thanked me immensely for my kindness, insisted I gave my number to her because, ‘her father specially demanded for it.’

I was taken aback with the effrontery with which she said it. Like her father was someone whose instructions must be obeyed with fear and trembling.
I simply shrugged and began to walk out. I was halfway out the door when she said.

“Please, sir! My brother would love to thank you in person when he is fully awake.”

Eh en! That made more sense. You can’t bully me to collect my own number.

I gave her the phone number and disappeared from the room in a hurry. At the gate, I ordered a cab which arrived almost immediately. In a few minutes, I was on my way to the distant part of town where I had only a few more days to be accommodated.

My thoughts while growing up were that jobs grew on trees in Lagos and the only hard part of it all was to arrive the city first and foremost. But haven spent six months jobhunting in vain, I affirmed the popular saying that ‘the hustle is real’. The laminated copies of my documents were already getting worn out at the edges from excessive exposure to sun and sweat.

In no time, I got really frustrated with the entire thing that one particular day I decided I might have to shamelessly just return home after all. Whatever it would take to face my mother, I was ready. That was the day I got a call on my phone. It was from a strange number. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone but when the phone wouldn’t stop ringing, I slid the receive button.

“Hey!!!” an excited tone called out from the other side of the phone. “You remember me? Shakira?”

I rolled my eyes. Like how in the world was I supposed to remember her though?

“Hi Shakira. How’s your brother’s health now?”

“He’s totally fine now. Many thanks to you…” She started her series of appreciation all over again and I just listened on, not stopping her.

“You are welcome.” I said calmly when she was done.

She proceeded to tell me about her brother’s intention to meet me up and how he’d been calling me all morning, yet no response. My eyeballs popped out. I removed the phone from my ear a bit to see the screen. Only then did I notice the call from the number I picked up was different from the one calling since.

“Okay. He can call right back.” I said and she thanked me before the call went dead.

Expectedly, Shakira’s brother called me almost immediately. Judging from his voice, he sounded totally fine and okay. Said he wanted us to meet in person. I hesitated but he soon overpowered my hesitation and he even offered to come pick me from wherever I was in Lagos.

        We drove into the intercontinental hotel where he’d booked a table in the private lounge just for the two of us. That was my first real meeting with Luke, considering the fact that he was unconscious the first time, but in a few minutes, we were already talking, giggling and laughing out loud like old friends.
His father, Chief Adedokun Makanjuola was the incumbent senator representing Lagos central senatorial district. He had his first degree in business administration at the University of South Wales, and thereafter went to Harvard business school but had to drop out because of consistent poor grades. He said his father was beyond displeased with him and the last event had made the older man threaten to seize every single privilege he’s enjoying if he wouldn’t get responsible.

“Can you imagine? If my father has money, is that not my money? Since when did my father’s money stop being my money?” he angled his eyebrows but I was too stunned to respond.

So much wasted potentials and opportunity and privilege. That was all I saw in the young man that ranted in front of me.

“Just last night, he froze all my credit cards.” Luke announced and my blood pressure rose up. Hopefully, the both of us would not be made to do ditches when we’re unable to pay.
As though he heard me, he smiled.

“Don’t worry. Not really all of them. We all have that savings account our parents must never know about, huh?”

I blinked. That’s fallacy of generalization, I guess.

“So back to my story. He froze the accounts and said to not let me in on any privileges until I come up with a business plan. How ridiculous?”

“Then come up with a business plan, man.” I said matter-of-factly. Or, was he expecting me to support him ab initio?

He furrowed his forehead. “Business plan on what? A brewery, a hotel, or a bar? What sort of business does chief want me, the only Luke Makanjuola, the hottest Lagos big boy to do?”

I hesitated for a moment. “Let’s begin with your passions. What are you passionate about?”

“Ehm!” he gives me a questioning look and I urge him to speak on. “Women.” My eyeballs popped out but he wasn’t even done yet. “Women … sleeping … sleeping with women.”

That he still had a coy smile on his face while spilling nonsense from his mouth made me feel like stabbing him but I kept my calm.

“Now, you see all your passions are difficult to monetize.”

He burst into a loud thundering laughter, racking the table between us. After a minute, I joined in the laughter. When he finally caught his breath, he faced me squarely.

“Tell me about you. What do you do? What did you study? Where do you work?”

The questions were rather too much for me but I decided to start from somewhere, conscious to avoid the part of my life where I ever enlisted in the Nigerian army.

“Well, I studied Real estate management from the prestigious university of Benin…” he looked at me as though expecting more, like a long list or so. I saw the disappointment in his eyes when I shrugged at him, indicating that I was done.

“Ever considered starting a real estate company here in Lagos? Hear they make mad money.”

Well, the idea never popped in my brain. Largely because of funding but now that Chief Makanjuola’s son said it, who was I?

Our next two meetings bordered around my real estate company business plans. I tried to run everything by Luke but he wasn’t quite interested. All he wanted to talk about were women. Hot sexy women, he called them. He wanted us to skip to the part where I would be finally ready to meet his father. The older man had been looking forward to meeting me anyway. Luke convinced me to convince his father that we drew the business plan together and planned to run the company as partners if he gave us enough capital.

No doubt, chief was blown away by the beautiful business plan. He had his doubts about my claim of drafting it together with Luke and those doubts were confirmed when he asked Luke a question from the second page of the proposal document and the latter didn’t know what to say. Luke felt very embarrassed as his father laughed him to scorn.

“Boboyi, o tì dàgbà diè.” The man told him in Yoruba that he wasn’t getting any younger and he must learn to make his own money.

Chief asked me to move with Luke into one of his many luxury apartments on the Lagos Island. According to him, he needed me around to keep an eye on his boy. Luke was only two months younger than me but his thinking prowess was more or less that of a toddler. Forgive me.

For obvious reasons, chief saw to our business booming in its first few years. He introduced us to the 1% of the 1% of Lagos. Overtime, Luke got his acts together and brought in his A-game into the business. Our combined professional skill set – real estate management and business administration – moved our company to become the number two real estate firm in Lagos within just two years of establishment.

         Life slowly moved from the miry ground to wining and dining with multinationals, including top government officials of countries looking to set up or own structures in Nigeria. Chief was our plug to so many mouth-watering contracts and the most amazing part being that, he wasn’t interested in any cut. He was simply fulfilled realizing that his son was finally maximizing his potentials and much more so grateful to me for being a lifesaver and more. And although, it’s no written code, Shakira, Chief’s only beautiful daughter, would be the family’s show of appreciation to me for all my contribution to the life of their only son.

Vee is in Lagos today. In fact, her conference centre is just three buildings down my street. I know this shouldn’t be the only thing on my mind considering the backlog of work I still have to sort, but it is. I snagged one of the agenda for the event she’s attending so I could keep my schedule clear. I’ve cancelled two appointments already. One with Lagos state internal revenue looking to partner with us on two ongoing developmental projects, and the other with Shakira.

It didn’t go well with her. She demanded in a high pitched screech, that I was to tell her what happened while I was gone. Why I have changed so drastically. I’ve told her repeatedly that no one is pregnant for me but she’s not buying it. The way she’s obsessed about pregnancy is starting to scare me.

I wanted to meet Vee at the car park, but didn’t dare ask when she was due to arrive. I am trying so hard to keep my cool even when I am tempted to take the rest of the day off, visit the conference centre and see if I can find her. We are having lunch at the White Orchid Hotel in two hours. She’s having a two-hour break then and I intend to make the most of it. My phone buzzes and begins to ring. It’s the hotel manager.

“Mr. Ocheme, calling to confirm your reservation, sir.”

I couldn’t stop my smiles. “Be serious, Idowu.” The manager is our friend, Luke and I. How he conveniently sound professional on days like this still beats my imagination.

“I am serious, Ayegba. Going through your reservation list, this our guest must be really special.” He says and waits, as if it’s a question demanding an urgent response.

“Well, Idowu, it’s just a meeting.”

“This is some fancy and romantic lunch for just a meeting, my friend.”

“It’s her first time in Lagos. I need her to have a feel of the exotic life here.” I lie through my teeth. But technically speaking, it’s not a lie though.

“I hear that, Mr. Ocheme.” Not again, I groan. “Well, as a VVIP guest, the manager himself has to call you.”

We burst into loud bouts of laughter and chit-chat for a minute before the call goes off.

A soft knock sends me almost running to the door, but I hesitate.

“Come right in.”

Luke walks in like a tired elephant who just devoured his wife.

“What’s up, man? You’ve been evasive since you returned, you know?” he takes off the lone button on his designer blazer and takes his seat.

I smile nervously. Hopefully this conversation is not about Shakira.

As I make to respond, there’s a beep on my phone and I pick it up.

Done with morning session in forty minutes. See you soon.

Like someone being summoned from the underworld, I jump to my feet immediately, pick up my tuxedo and wear it over the long sleeve I’ve been wearing.

“Wait… did you hear me at all?” Luke asks, dragging my attention from fitting my cuffs properly. “And… where are you going?”

I drag in a deep breath. “Victory is in town.”

Luke’s eyes glaze so much it can flavor a dozen doughnut. “Victory? Like Victory?” He picks a copy of the company’s letterhead from the table, pointing to it. “Victory Victory?”

I nod in the affirmative.

Amazement fills Luke’s eyes as they are announcing to me that I owe him full details of this gist.

“Wish me luck, man.” I say, rubbing my sweaty palms against my white handkerchief.

“Please be a good boy, like daddy. Don’t take her to your house o.”

“Will you shut that hole in your face?” I say jokingly before hurrying out.

  • What’s your perspective of story so far?
  • Do you think Ayegba can break free from Shakira without a war?
  • Please say a word of prayer for every frontline soldier out there. These guys risk a lot just to safeguard lives and properties. Also, observe a minute silence for all the fallen heroes in the country’s fight against insurgents since 2013. God will keep their families safe in Jesus name.

About Grace Ochigbo

Grace Ochigbo is a Christian, storyteller, inspirational speaker and the Founder of Gemstone Sickle Cell Aid Team, a non-profit organizations working to end Sickle Cell Disease. email;

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