My First Halloween

Hey peoples! As you all know, It was Halloween a couple of weeks ago.

I must say folk here sure do take their Halloween seriously! There were all kinds of spooky decor in the shops, people decorated their houses and cars. And to my Nigerian self, I would say it was errr…. interesting.

A neighbor 4 houses down actually had what I would say was the best Halloween decor in town. If there were awards for that, I’m sure he’d have taken it home. It was what it should be… ghosts, ghouls, huge spiders and the works. In fact, I have decided to just get an arrow,  point it to his house and ‘DITTO’ if he keeps the same energy for Christmas. 

Anyways, as the day drew closer, them kids started talking about costumes, I succumbed and asked what/who  they wanted to dress as… That’s how Kay said she wants to be a Cop and the Madam Em said she wants to be a Bat. 

Hian! 

All the Nigerian in me heard was SARS and winch. 

Ehn? 

In which house?

Please, please, is my Nigerian-ness a joke to these kids? 

Anyways, I said mba, no! Nobody is dressing as a bat in this house, we can manage the olopa but I am too Nigerian to agree to the bat costume. I quickly got the bat lady to repeat “I am not a bat in Jesus name” after me. I even considered giving her small anointing oil to drink and wash away such thoughts from her head after which I declared she was going to dress as an Angel.

I wouldn’t have it any other way and being the Angel she truly is, Em agreed (not that she had a choice) and she looked so lovely in her Angel costume on the day of…

The Nigerian Momma in me was pleased… 😊 

It was a complete costume set which came with a white dress, a halo, a wand and wings. 

Now while I’m not sure what Angels use wands for it looked nice and she was happy to have it… I was in my Momma win mode when  this child looked at me, pointed the wand at me and said “mommy I’m going to turn you into a frog”.

Egba mii oh! How did we get here? I knew I should have given her anointing oil to drink the other day. I really should have!

Me thinking of what to do to the child.

How did my Angel turn to a frog turning somebody?

Anyways, the look of bad eye she got from me was enough for her and her wand to quietly walk away from me.

The kids weren’t allowed to go ‘trick or treating’ as we are still cautious of the ‘rona and me I didn’t have power to go and do babiyanla  and no kids came to ours either, which means other people are also being cautious or our neighborhood is full of snubs…

Anyways, that’s it for my first Halloween, nothing much, just interesting…

Maybe next year I dress up…yes?

Oya suggest costumes for me. 

xoxo

To Smile Again…

Six months ago, my world stood still…

My heart; broken into a million pieces…

3rd of May 2021…

An Angel gained his wings…

God called My father home.

Yeah, my last post here was full of excitement and all, little did i know that 3 days later, my world as  I knew it would shake.

And it did shake!

Hmmmmmmm!!!! No words can ever describe how it feels so I’ll not talk about it.

Anyways, traditionally, today is the official end of the mourning period. 

Yes, my culture says ‘we move’ after 6 months… but how does one really ‘move on’ when there are days it hits soo hard and feels all fresh like I just got the news?

How does one move on when there are days that come with strong urges to hear his voice?

To hear him say ‘that’s my dautar!’ and literally hear the pride and love in his voice? 

I wish he was here for me to have a laugh with and laugh at when he’d text ‘SOS, some recharge card please if you can’. I thank God that I was always able to can.

I am glad I did all in my power to make my father happy and proud but i wish he lived longer for me to do more… I had plans to do so much more.

Through all this though, I thank God for the life he lived, for the lessons i learnt from him.

I am glad I am his dautar. I would not change anything or edit a day even if I could.

My father was the MVP of fathers. 

My father was good, he really was and I’m not even saying this because he was my father. 

He really was a good person.

He showed me how to love.

He thought me bwaraune.

He thought me contentment.

Through him, I understood patience.

He was wise.

He never raised his voice even when he was angry.

He corrected in love.

He loved him a good plate of fish peppersoup and if people were awarded for eating tuwo, we’d have dozens of awards hanging in the house.

My father was very peaceful.

He was the one who would give water to the thirsty, feed the hungry and give the shirt on his back to a stranger; and when we complained that he was doing too much, he’d say ‘my friend, don’t worry, God will provide’ and God provided. 

Always!

So somehow through the hurt, the denial, the anger, the grieve, through the rough days wondering when it will get better, we have and I pray we continue to find ways and reasons to smile again because that is what he would want for us… 

Keep smiling,  James Habba Alson, the Angel who gained his wings though our hearts were not ready.

You are sorely missed, Baba.

❤