Tag Archives: friendship

#360 ~ Form

There are those days, when you look around at the friends you have and think – you are not my portion in life. In the sense that, people tell you your best friends are to be cultivated at University, and I’m sure some of them will be, but they often forget about the incredible people who walked with you out of primary and caught you at the gates of secondary. I think of those friends often, think about the huge portion of my life I gave them…and I feel nostalgic that I can’t see them…but i’m excited to see how we’ll keep feeding those relationships, and how one day, when I leave Uni and the same thought flashes across my head at work, i’ll smile and remember, you’re all part of my life portion, ’cause I bought the plate, with the knife and fork, I sat down at the table, i checked the menu and then we began.to.talk. 

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#344 ~ It’s about trust

I grew up being called stubborn. Not even just stubborn but defiant. When you think of the word defiant in the my context, you can’t pronounce it like the English – def-i-ant. No, you must think of my Yoruba father and state with complete authority – def-eee-ant. I was defiant. It was my way or the bloody highway. I was Miss Superwoman by virtue of being alive. I could absolutely do all things through Christ who strengthened me, and sometimes just by me who strengthened me. Stubborn. Defiant. Proud – very proud.

Yet I used to think part of this was because I needed and sought to assert myself in the world as a woman and a younger sibling. I’ve lately been learning it had more to do with trust. I didn’t seek help from people who I thought could or would use that moment of aid as a means against me. Count it as a debt towards me. Ultimately I didn’t trust people’s intentions or reasoning. Even very close friends.

Yet there is something precious when you realise you share a relationship with someone who expects nothing in return, especially when that’s a guy. They aren’t walking you home to get into your home. They don’t pay for your dinner to get a shot at taking you to dinner. They give, and they leave. They treat you as a platonic friend. In fact they just treat you as a human being.

You know you are blessed in such a fashion not only when you can contact someone and ask them to wake up at 4am so you can hand in an essay in their college, but when a few months later, you text them after midnight, your brakes haven frozen, and ask them a) to explain the mechanics of how your bike works whilst you shiver in the bitter winter on a poorly lit street and desperately need the toilet and b) when after carrying your bike over a bridge which has a specific name so bestowed because of its arduous climb, they appear with break fluid to try their best to fix your bike.

And then after all that they leave. In peace. Expecting nothing in return. Assuming nothing in your desperate SOS call except there was a friend in need. And you know they see you as a friend, and you know you feel safe to ask, because you flicked through all the other people who could potentially fulfil this engineering role and you rejected them, because you don’t trust them – at least not yet.

So maybe i’m not that proud. Maybe i’m just extremely cautious – and bad at engineering.

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#342 ~ So that’s what Love is…

3 bouquets of flowers: one of pink roses, another of yellow roses, a third of pink tulips. A one person teapot and matching tea set. Raspberry and Apple Herbal tea, tickets to an acoustic concert, a beautiful edition of Herbert’s poetry, a pair of shoes, stunning earrings, 4 chelsea buns, 2 cakes from Patisserie Valerie, an empowering book on faith and inheritance, a cooked breakfast and numerous cards with countless messages that I cannot quite fathom in their depths of love, admiration, kindness and hope. So that’s what love is? I don’t deserve it.

In a most honest manner, I thought I didn’t have friends at Uni. How could I? I didn’t have the time to invest in friendships as I did when I was in school, stuck with 180 students for 7 years of my life. Now free from that I entered University and believed I couldn’t make friends – real friends at least. I barely went out, I was notorious for poor communication, I study English which means I don’t need to leave my room…and yet at least 20 people from all parts of my life surprised me and welcomed my birthday in with singing and laughing last night. Then I woke up to presents, cards, messages and love.

I don’t deserve it – but I suppose we don’t deserve love. It’s a gift, given out of love, whether the receiver believes themselves worth the price or not.

Considering I run a blog and study literature, words are obviously important to me. They are me. I see my world though the matrix of language. And the words…the words of inspiration and love…of encouragement…I didn’t know I meant that much to people, that they’d take the time to build me up.

But that’s what love is, a firm foundation in order to elicit growth – everlasting growth.

Maya Angelou stated famously, and it has become my hopeful mantra for life:

‘My great aim is to laugh as much as i cry, to love someone with all my heart and have the courage to accept love in return’.

I suppose being a woman, is learning to accept love when you recognise it. This time last year I was moping about being separated from my sister, this time this year I am excited to realise…I love accepting love.

Happy Birthday,

with Love


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#293 ~ Psalm Series.7

I’ve finished with the essays

I’m late with my classes

I’m pretending to be a leader who knows how to lead the masses

Yet at night, when I’ve powered down my on-line

Self and sit, eyes drooping my hands over your pages, the words are swimming, they’re melting, what do they mean?

Superficial is my understanding, resistant is my comprehension.

I want you to enter my bedroom, take me by the shoulders

and talk to me. Don’t talk through me or at me from the pulpit

Talk to me, like the friend you say you are.

Let’s have a cup of tea, a Snickers, and let’s snuggle whilst you teach me about all your ways, your ideas, your dreams and desires.

Psalm 119 vs 125: I am your servant; give me understanding, that I may know your testimonies!

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#162 ~ Refracted

You are the image that is refracted.

Bouncing off the shorn off, polished up, shined down metal

You are the image that is refracted.

Your experience of the process, of transforming into light

Does not thread through the image

that writes its mournful story,

You are the image that is refracted,

Deflected, reflected onto another surface

To once again, support the image

but not be the visage

that others envisage.

You are the image that is refracted.

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#154 ~ A cord of 3 strands

One had a brioche with butter. It lolled on the plate like a baked mushroom, brown and crispy, sweet to the touch, soft to the taste.

The other had an apple Danish. Glazed in sugar, laced with flour, filled with apple syrup, its sticky-sweet sensation printed a sugary outline on the white ceramic.

The last tore into a hazelnut croissant. Dusted with sugar and flour, the crumbled nut topping gave the pastry a slight crunch as frost particles sprinkled the table.

They each had a pink mug, filled with hot chocolate, topped with cocoa powder and stirred with long silver spoons.

In their unique identities there was unity,

Separate, yet joined by the sweet liquor of a warm drink, the cord they formed grew taut with love, prayer and hope; for after all

A cord of three strands is not easily broken.

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#134 ~ Life Lesson No. 17

Don’t be afraid to talk to strangers – even if they don’t become friends, that’s one bit of real communication in this unreal world.*

*Only applies to those over 18 in daylight hours and populated areas, I do not want to be sued by your parents :P

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