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SUFFERING BLOCKS OUR SENSES.

You know the way you’ll pass through something painful and it feels like it somehow dulls your senses. Sometimes, it’s just tragic how because of what we’ve been through, we become unable to see the good in things. Like for instance, the end of this semester has been the worst, but there were so many eventful and beautiful moments in between. Now imagine me writing off the entire semester just because of how it ended. It would simply be because I’ve been through so much, it made me forget the good parts. That is the thing about hardship. You forget that it wasn’t all bad. You can’t see beyond the hurt, and suddenly, your mind starts to paint everything with the same dark brush. It’s like suffering has a way of hijacking our memory. It makes the bad moments louder than the good ones. It makes the painful parts replay on repeat, while the soft moments get pushed to the back of our mind like they didn’t matter. Dearest reader, that’s how suffering blocks our senses. It blocks your ability...
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MISERY LOVES COMPANY...

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Gist o’clock! So I’ve been writing exams for a while now, and I kid you not, it hasn’t been easy. At some point, I found myself questioning what I’m even doing here. But no, we do not give up, lol. Anyways, something happened. There was this particular day, the paper was bad. Horrible kind of bad, you get? And afterwards, I beat myself over it terribly. I literally cried myself to sleep and did all those dramatic shenanigans. Then there was another paper that was equally as bad, but this time, I left the hall completely normal. A little sad about the unexpected turn of events, yes, but normal. So what happened? Why did I cry over one and not the other, when it was basically the same scenario? Here’s what I discovered. Sometimes we don’t feel bad because we didn’t do well, but because in comparison to others, we didn’t do well. That first time, when I came out of the hall, everyone was happy and relieved because the exam had been easy. And that was what broke me. That was what made me c...
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In the words of Huwa, “You invite a stranger into your life and your life becomes strange.” There’s nothing more annoying than getting used to someone or something, and then they just switch up. It’s all shades of messed up. Because there are some of us that are so damn afraid of change. I wouldn’t consider myself very organised, but in a sense, I am. I want to come back to a room and meet things the way I left them. I anticipate things to be the way I’m used to, and while I embrace change, there’s always a heartbreak before the adjustment. I like to say, don’t introduce me to a setting, a vibe, a space, or whatever you can’t keep up with. It’s that simple. Because when people see good, they begin to expect good, and nothing is as heartbreaking as a failed expectation. In the words of King Solomon, hope deferred makes the heart sick. Dearest reader, I have learnt that sometimes the pain isn’t even the loss itself, it is the shock of it. But life does not ask for our permission before i...
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“Your worth is not a measure of your outcome.” I’ve had to remind myself of this more than ever this season, because there’s this project that has been messing with my head. You know that moment when you know you can do so much better, but somehow all you keep producing is average? So you start again, change strategy, try a new approach… and with each attempt, it feels like you’re getting worse instead of better. Yes. That has been my week. And it almost made me mistake my repeated inability to get it right as a measure of my self worth. So I had to pause and remind myself: I didn’t fail, the project did. My coach would always say it, that I must learn to separate myself from the project. But if there’s one thing I’ve learnt, it’s that it’s not always easy. The line between “I failed” and “this failed” is thin, and the confusion is subtle. One minute you’re just trying to fix a task, the next minute you’re questioning your entire capacity. And that kind of doubt is crippling. Dearest r...
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It’s the way people rate me, because omor… sometimes I’m genuinely scared of the pedestal my friends place me on. Like yes, I know I’m an impressive young person, but I’m literally still an average teenager. (Maybe not so average, but you get the point.) So I’m participating in a poetry contest. The task is simple: record a poem and submit it. Now, I already had a poem. A really good one, if I do say so myself. The last time I posted it, it got a lot of applause and people could relate to it, so I decided to use that same poem. I made the video, but I wasn’t feeling it, so I made another video, same poem, same vibe. Still, something felt off. That was when I consulted a friend, and she told me it didn’t sound like me. Then she said, and I quote: “This poem sounds lost. You’re Favour Okwanyionu, you’re anything but lost.” And in my head I was like… “Na so you rate me?” i’m anything but lost, ke?  But it genuinely got me thinking, and it pushed me to consider writing something that f...
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I saw a funny status and it read, “If wishes were horses, everybody for don turn rider.” It was both funny and real. Not because everyone is a beggar, but because everyone has needs. And honestly, if wishes were that easy, we’d all gladly hop on that wishing ride, you get? Lol. The one thing I love about dreams is the audacity they give you. In your dream world, you can do anything, become anything, and have just about anything. But the actualisation of that dream is where the real work lies. Because anybody can dream, but the people who actually get their dreams go beyond fantasy. Before any idea materialises, it passes through certain stages: imagination, mental work, and real work. Imagination is the fantasy stage, where everything is possible, easy, and feasible. Mental work is when you move beyond vibes and actually analyse the dream, figure out how it can work, and maybe even put it on paper. Then comes the real work, the part where you show up and start doing. But most times, ou...
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You guysssssss I can’t believe I sat through 6 season of How to Get Away with Murder, I’m not done though but I’m pretty close to done Here’s one crazy twist that happened that I can’t just get over, so background story; My woman, Annalise Keating spent the past 3 years covering her students murders, being a really good lawyer, she helped them get away with the impulsive silly murders they committed, because she didn’t want them to go to jail, you get right? Now the whole thing blows over, and the FBI catches wind of these murders but no concrete evidence because she has had almost everything buried, however she’s the one connection with every single murder, and hence they came up with a conspiracy to tie everything to her. And omor, I’d be lying if I said I was surprised that the so-called students she took as her kids turned on her, to save their asses, because that’s just the human thing to do. Not everybody is Annalise Keating Initially I was so pissed at them for taking a deal tha...
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