@therawdeeya@Alex_CasaDe308 ...it might be rice u have to pick off the floor today but if u take the right measures and invest in the message here u will be gathering diamonds tomorrow. "Everything happens for a reason"😂
The day I held my passport for the first time, I sat in the car and stared at it for twenty minutes. My name. My face. A document that said I was someone who could go somewhere. I was the first person in my entire family to own one. I cried and didn’t fully understand why until much later.
I grew up in a house where abroad was a concept that belonged to other people, not our kind, not from our area, background, or level. I had absorbed that ceiling so completely that when the visa was approved, I genuinely did not believe the email was real. I refreshed the page four times.
I was fifteen when I realised my mother's sadness was not a phase. She stopped cooking and going outside. Some mornings I would find her sitting in the kitchen, staring at nothing, still in the same clothes from the day before. I became the adult in our house without anyone asking.
I cooked, cleaned, and made sure my younger brother ate before school. I checked on her before bed every night and left a glass of water on her bedside table because she often forgot to drink. I did all of this while attending school, writing exams, and trying to seem like a normal teenager.
Nobody at school knew. I laughed the loudest in class, was voted most likely to succeed, and teachers called me mature for my age. They had no idea maturity had been forced on me by circumstances, not chosen. I was not mature. I was just a child with no option to be one.
My mother got better slowly over two years with therapy, medication, and time. The day she cooked dinner for the first time and called us to eat, I sat at the table and cried into my food. She thought they were happy tears. They were, but also years of exhaustion finally finding a way out.
I am an adult now and still check on her every day, not out of fear but out of love forged in the hardest years of both our lives. If you know a child who seems too mature, too responsible, too okay, look closer. Sometimes they are carrying things no child should carry alone.
In 1998, I was fired from my corporate job while 9 months pregnant because and I quote, “my priorities would be elsewhere after the baby is born.”
The lawyer I hired told me I didn’t have a case because discrimination like “that” was almost impossible to prove.
So I got pissed.
Took the LSAT. Went to law school. Passed the bar. Had 3 more kids.
Twelve years later, another woman from that same company was fired for the same reason. She sued them for a million dollars, and won, partly because I had kept every piece of evidence from what happened to me years prior demonstrating a systemic pattern of discrimination against women.
That company no longer exists. My law practice is thriving. And that baby they said would derail my priorities? She’s a brilliant attorney now working at my firm.
Turns out my priorities were indeed, elsewhere.
Bought houses both Home and abroad, and yes cash down abroad as well
Built a house for my parents
Bought Cars for my parents
Sent 2 of my Siblings to Private University from start till graduation
Series of cars for myself , all cash down
Sponsored my Hajj and umrahs repeatedly myself
Sponsored my Mums Hajj single handedly
Survived brutal divorce and bounce back significantly without a significant dent on my finances and not collecting a dime from the Man as alimony or Children support for years.
Sponsoring 2 international Holidays for my kids and I yearly
Supporting my 3 children through school
Went back to study for my Masters.
Building a business in Healthcare and by God's grace so many more
All with assistance of God, Hardwork, resilience and emotional support from few dependable friends
And yes not from any Man but Funds from my Career and serial side hustle whilst maintaining my dignity and integrity. A grateful being and a testament to God's unending goodness plus self belief, hardwork and self assurance.
A lot of people in Nigeria still don’t really understand anaesthesia.
Who gives it.
What it actually does.
And what can go wrong when things don’t go as planned.
So over the next 30 days, I’m breaking it down.
One clear, detailed tweet each day on anaesthesia; what really happens when you “go under,” and everything in between.
No jargon. No assumptions. #AnaesthesiaIn30Days
Day 1 drops tomorrow.
If this interests you, follow along 💪 you don’t want to miss it.
I want to be rich. But not Lamborghini
or Rolex rich, I want to be rich enough to go to the gym at 3pm and nobody can tell me no. To tap the family in front of me at the supermarket and say, "It's on me," Rich enough that my future wife never has to worry about getting a job. Rich enough to show my children the world, not pictures of it. Rich enough to take my friends to dinner and say, "| got this", Rich enough that God uses me to help the people who are in need. That's my version of rich.
I was given Malta Guinness today at work, and I thought, “let me keep for my wife, she loves it”.
I get to her office to pick her, guess who also got Malta Guinness and kept for her husband? Yup, my wife!!!
And we didn’t even plan it 😂😂😂
It’s the little things.
@feranmi_dgaf now that you cook this story up, wetin you gain 😂??
no woman, i repeat no woman would get pissed if you take your shots at her!!!! especially if it’s someone as close to you as this 😒.
Me and my mum prayed this morning… but na tears end the prayer. 😭 Her heart is so heavy, e no even get words again.
God abeg, send help to us. 🥹
There are no sales in her shop at all, everything just dry. My younger sister dey her final year for school, bills full everywhere.
Debt plenty… my mum no even dey sleep well again, sometimes she just dey awake dey think. 💔
Omo, life don really tire me. 🥹 I just dey try stay strong, dey rugged as a man, but deep down, e no easy at all. 😖
God, please… send a helper come our way. My mum don suffer too much, she deserve better. 😢
Imagine your pastor standing on the pulpit this Sunday and announcing
“Due to gross misconduct, the entire choir is suspended till further notice.”
By next Sunday, half of the choir has relocated to another church where their “gift will be appreciated.”
There was a time responsibilities were privileges.
Now responsibilities are contracts.
A time service was honour.
Now service is negotiation.
I saw a generation where correction was part of discipleship.
Today, correction is interpreted as disrespect.
Before, when a pastor said,
“Step down for a while,”
people went back to prayer.
Now when a pastor says,
“Step down,”
people step out.
This is the reason a choir member can go clubbing post on her social media handles and pastor will like...
We have moved from raising sons to managing talents and the difference is loud.
Sons can be corrected.
Talents must be maintained.
Sons stay for alignment.
Talents stay for allowance.
Sons ask, “Where did I miss it?”
Talents ask, “Who do you think you are?”
I saw a generation where you could be sweeping the church floor faithfully, and the pastor says,
“You disobeyed instruction. Don’t sweep again.”
And that alone becomes your season of brokenness, repentance, and growth.
Today, remove someone from sweeping and they remove themselves from the church. They tell you how they've helped you and your ministry....
The altar was never designed to run like an office.
It was designed to raise men.
Lord, raise sons again.
Raise men who value correction more than position.
Raise hearts that fear losing alignment more than losing platforms.
Raise servants who understand that the greatest reward for service is not payment, It is preservation.
Amen