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Strength of a Woman – Battling Muscular Dystrophy and life’s struggles

Sometime in November 2019, I went through a very challenging period that got me thinking, questioning, pondering about a lot of thing. I used to think I am a very strong woman. No, I know I am a very strong, confident and independent woman. People see me as bold, strong, determined and unique. Faced with challenging health condition daily, I strive to make it through rain and shine. I live daily as if it is my last because I do not know what awaits me when I lay down at night. I live one day at a time, but also make provision for another day. I am hopeful, very hopeful of my future. In fact, I live like I know my future. If that is not faith, then I don’t know what faith is. I have love, I have family, and I have friends. I smile each waking day, and gratitude at the going down of the sun. I hold on. I focus on the good I see in any situation because it is an easy coping mechanism.

But on this particular day, I felt very different. Some days are different and difficult for me but not like this. I tried all coping strategies to get me through the day. I smiled at my colleagues, laughed when everyone did. I managed to say the right things to people. I survived a hard day at work. But on getting back home to my comfort zone, all I wanted to do was crawl under my duvet and cry my heart out. I lost appetite for food, tried to hold decent conversation with family and friend. They knew me so well and knew something was wrong. There was no point pretending. I just told them I was too tired, upset from work (which I was by the way) and just needed an early night.

I managed a forced dinner to enable me take my medications, then slept for few hours as my body yearned for it. I work up just after 21:30pm and the only thing I could do was cry my heart out. This feeling wasn’t just because of early upset at work, but work was definitely my last trigger to whatever was causing me this unusual emotion pain. I was frustrated, angry, upset and annoyed. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong, why I felt this way. But I knew I needed to cry, and cry I did. Continue reading “Strength of a Woman – Battling Muscular Dystrophy and life’s struggles”

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Christmas is the best time of the year

Dear friends,

It gives me great pleasure to write to you on this very special world wide celebration. Christmas has come and gone. But while counting down to the special day, I walked down the streets and saw lots of beautiful decorations – winter wonderland in the Market Square, snowman, decor lights, lighted trees. People trooped in and out of shops with bags full of gifts, special items to mark the Special day. Merry children laughing and popping their Christmas crackers or having a sleigh ride. The restaurants were full with people in the merry mood – wine popping, glass clicking, Christmas roasted turkey ready to be devoured with family and friends, stockings hanging in the living room, chocolates, various foods, with a nice Christmas carols. Through open blinds, I saw loved ones sitting on the couch and looking into each other’s eyes with the knowing smile. Gifts under the Christmas tree waiting to be opened, the lights in the windows draw that beautiful attention. What a merry happy bunch!

Yet, there were still some people who do not seem pleased because they have no loved ones around. They don’t have the extra money to buy presents for children and loved ones, family and friends. Turkey dinners for them may only be a wish and not a reality.

I just wondered if everyone actually know the reason why we are celebrating. Christmas seemed to have lost its meaning and significance to us. Some do not even know the wonderful Christmas story. But here is the story from
http://christianity.about.com/od/biblestorysummaries/p/christmasstory.htm

The Conception of Jesus Foretold

Mary, a virgin, was living in Galilee of Nazareth and was engaged to be married to Joseph, a Jewish carpenter. An angel visited her and explained to her that she would conceive a son by the power of the Holy Spirit. She would carry and give birth to this child and she would name him Jesus. Continue reading “Christmas is the best time of the year”

The countdown begins …

Witness a suspense and action-packed drama as family members make crucial choices between careers, revealing dark past secrets and present wrongdoings or take the risk of losing family; all within pages of Hunted by Hawks.

The book launch is on …Image

Date – Saturday 31/05/14

Venue – Radford Methodist Church, Foster street, Nottingham, NG7 3DB

Time 13:30 pm

Harsh Reality – Arsenal lose to Watford

Yesterday, I travelled to the Emirates stadium to what the home game against Watford. It was a trip I have been looking forward to and have planned two months in advance. As soon as I got my match tickets, I had to make sure the trip was as comfortable and convenient for me and my Personal Assistant. As I have never been to the Emirates game played in the night and on a week day, it was more of a challenge to get it all planned, having had some difficulties in the previous day time home games I went to.

I bought our train tickets on time and luckily got the first class reservation. I then reserved our hotel room which luckily had disabled facilities. It seemed everything was going too well. I arranged taxi pick up from Nottingham which was the easiest part but couldn’t do same for London trip. For some reason, arranging London disabled taxis was too expensive for me so I decided to gamble… go with whatever I see on the day. London experiences are a matter for next time.

As usual, as the day drew closer, I got more and more excited. I was going to do something I am passionate about… watching Arsenal play at home. The best part was it would be in the night. I was buzzing.

From previous experiences of stress accompanying long distance travel at odd hours, I decided to have enough rest before and after the game. I took time off work for the travel and return day. I didn’t want to be very tired before embarking on the journey. So I was well rested and ready for the game

The previous home games I attended were all victories for Arsenal so I figured I must have some good luck charm with me. My excitement heightened. I took my time to get dressed and look fabulous, wearing my make-up. I smiled knowing that we had the game in the bag… or so I thought.

With bags packed for the overnight stay, my PA and I left Nottingham for London. Our luggage’s were quite big, more like a weekend trip rather than one night stay. I wasn’t bothered because I made sure I had all grounds covered. For this one night trip, my PA’s helped me pack it more than three times. I kept changing my mind on what to take with me. I guess the fact I haven’t been to a holiday for a long time got me confused (laughs).

Anyway, as we left Nottingham, we posted departure selfies on Facebook. Despite the weather looking gloomy, it didn’t take away the excitement I was feeling. We got into London in good time and headed straight to taxi bay. By this time, it was starting to shower a little and we had no umbrella or raincoat. But I wasn’t bothered because I was heading to Emirates. I was in high spirits.

A Spurs taxi driver picked us up (lol, Spurs fan picking up Arsenal fan). Well, he had a job to do and we put our differences aside to get to our destination (lol). We had good conversation about Mesut Ozil, Sanchez etc. We finally got to Emirates and alighted from the taxi. We made our way through security checks where our luggage’s were checked and tagged. Our tickets were checked and we proceeded to the match area to find our seats. Unfortunately, the lift we were supposed to use was broken so we were guided by the official through a different entrance. While waiting for the lift, we met two blind people who were together but unaccompanied by assistant. We talked a bit before our lift arrived and we all went in. My PA guided them inside the lift and stayed with them till we got to the floor we were headed to. Luckily they were on the same floor with us but different section. The security with the couple handed their tickets to my PA to look after. I wasn’t sure why, but I guess he saw she was very capable and trusted her.

The couple asked if we could guide them through the crowded entrance to their seating area and my PA was more than willing to do so. So while she took them along, I navigated my way through the crowd (I am actually a good driver by not knocking anyone over, lol). My PA kept looking out for me but I told not to worry, that I was fine driving my wheelchair through the crowd. We finally found the couple’s seating area and handed them over to the guard there. Meanwhile, the couple had requested my PA to come back for them at half time for toilet break and she obliged them. I was very impressed with her kind heartedness.

We finally found our own seats just before kick-off. Hmmm! Arsenal vs. Watford was below my expectation. First half was painful to watch. Having watched the beautiful display against Southampton few days before, I was overwhelmed by the poor performance. My heartbeat was racing, adrenaline pumping, I was screaming (but not swearing) like I have never done at the Emirates. Arsenal conceded two goals in less than fifteen minutes. Unbelievable! Crazy! I had to pinch myself to come back to reality. Even though it was freezing at the stadium, my body was not feeling the cold as I was so engrossed by what was happening. I remembered my PA’s asking me on several occasions to use my blanket to cover but I wasn’t interested. I was so crushed and hurt by the two goals in quick succession. I felt worse when Ramsey was substituted for injury in seventeenth minute. It couldn’t get any worse. I prayed for the end of first half so Arsenal can get a break. They needed to come out with a bang in the second half.

Despite the bizarre performance so far, I was still hopeful when the second half began. It was intense and we got one goal back. But that was all. I was almost in tears to see the lacklustre display, inability to score a goal, make accurate passes. Few of the players like Sanchez, Theo, Oxlade worked hard but we just didn’t turn up for the game. The outstanding performance against Southampton seemed like a mirage. I just could not understand how badly we were playing. It was a big shame it ended Arsenal 1 – 2 Watford. I wished the result was different. It would have made my trip more memorable.

This became my first defeat at a home game and I was gutted. I remembered a friend who asked me how I would feel if we lost. My answer was that I have watched Arsenal lose so many times on television and only get a bit upset, but don’t miss a meal or lose sleep about it. I told him it was just a game and that’s how I see it. I thought since I would be at the live game relishing the live experience, I would still enjoy it regardless of the outcome.

But, that was not the case. It was the direct opposite. The emotions I felt within me was unexpected. Don’t get me wrong, I am also emotional when I watch football on television but not to this extent. It broke my heart. I was so upset, sad and almost in tears. I kept telling myself to cheer up and enjoy the rest of my stay, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t feel the freezing cold while trying to get a taxi. The showers from the rain did not bother me. I lost appetite for food. I just wanted to get back to my hotel room and sleep. And I just wondered how the players felt having lost that game. They must be very bitter, embarrassed, disappointed etc. for any passionate player (some of them are very passionate). But guess what, regardless on how they felt, these players have no time to get over it as they have more games coming up. I am sure that while I am typing away, safely back to Nottingham, they would be on the training ground. They another game coming up and must be prepared physically, mentally and emotionally to face their next opponent. Tough.

What I love about football is the fact that it is not just a game as people often tell me. It is more of a lesson in life. Over the years, I have learnt many life lessons by watching football – trust, faith, belief, confidence, strength, you name it. This experience put things in perspective once more. Life is like a game (as people say) we have to play. We make all the preparations and things look like we will win this one more battle. But we get hit by defeat. The disappointment, sadness, bitterness, anger and all the horrible feelings do not change the fact that we lost that one game. Instead of moaning or dwelling so much on the defeat which we can no longer do anything about, we should rather focus on our next challenge, opponent or mountain. Everyone faces one challenge or the other from time to time. We win some, we lose some. Losing does not necessarily mean you have failed. Failure is when you fall down and remain on the ground. To all Arsenal fans and players, let’s keep going on to win the next opponent. For anyone going through defeat, you have more challenges coming and no time to waste. So, let us go back to the training ground and make that necessary preparation for the next battle.

BVN Enrolment wahala for Diaspora

Some months back, I was informed by a family member of the enrolment for Bank Verification Number (BVN) which had to be done physically in Nigeria. As I live far away in England, I was unable to make a trip to Nigeria to have this done due to the inconvenience of travelling. It came to a point when I considered letting my bank account go with the money in it rather than going through the stress. But on a second thought, I decided otherwise as I have a great need for a bank account in Nigerian.

To cut the long story short, on the 9th of July 2015, I received an email from my sister about BVN enrolment for Nigerians abroad who are in similar situation with me (unable to travel to Nigeria for the enrolment). Here is the content of the email

untitled Continue reading “BVN Enrolment wahala for Diaspora”

Appreciation of Hunted by Hawks

The novel entitled as above is best appreciated by one, who lived in Nsukka in the late 1990s and early 2000s. The years with their scars are buried in the minds of people like me, and may be you, who experienced the unfortunate reality of the time, and retold in the novel but which, happily, Amamgbo has craft-stamped its trace in the sands of time. The novel is a creative work of fiction in the sense that its characters, situation, and language are depersonalised but which for us in the serene, hilly city of Nsukka bespeaks of our not too distant a past.

The University of Nigeria was once a beehive of cultists, who held the University of Nigeria and its immediate environment captive. Amamgbo is awake to have carefully laid the proper foundation for the seeming unrelated episodes, which dramatically coincided and which with mind unsettling complication and its accompanying intrigue smouldered into a huge societal crisis. With the same artful dexterity, the author complicates the plot into a mind rabble rousing climax that unsettled the characters that battled with their personal ambitions and the reality, which they face, a reality that is nurtured by the belief furnished by the cultural practices of the society around them. Like a stone rolling down a cliff, the climax dove-tails into a sensational denouement that settles the opposition between virtue and vice.

The cultists, after a vain-glorious adventure are presented with two alternatives, each of which leaves them as villains against the society they rebelled against. For the ones that turned a new leaf, the story leaves them with chances to reconcile with their society. However, the novel ends without clues as to how their pretentious immediate ‘holy’ past is healed against their new status as confessed criminals. The others, who continue in their quest for terrorising the society and vengeance against their confessed colleagues in crime, are impoverished, incarcerated or killed. The novel ends as a tragi-comedy, with lots of lesson to learn from the fleeting fortunes of life.

The novel appeals to be read over to particularly appreciate how the author has woven the story into the language, English, a second language, which the novel would probably not claim total mastery of but which the other ingredients of the novel hope to overshadow.

Dr B.M. Mbah, Esq.

Senior Lecturer, University of Nigeria, Nsukka  (20/05/2014)

My take on Lord Freud’s Disability and National Minimum Wage

There are so many things happening in different places at the same time that it makes it extremely difficult to keep up with things. I have been meaning to write this up for long but due to busy work schedule, it has taken this long. Finally, here is my take on it …

The welfare reform minister, Lord Freud, made a comment about disabled people and the National Minimum Wage (NMW) in October 2014 which sparked a lot of controversy on social media and other media. According to the report on the Independent newspaper, Lord Freud’s comment was that “some groups of disabled people are ‘not worth’ the minimum wage and some could only be paid £2.00 per hour”. He was condemned for this outrageous comment, and rightly so too. He was way out of line, I think. Few days later, I was asked by a colleague and friend what my thoughts were on Lord Freud’s comment. At that time, I had no clue what he was talking about as I haven’t heard or read anything about it until later. Apparently, the controversial Welfare Minister of the Tory party said that some disabled people who were working should not earn the national minimum wage which was £6.50 per hour. My colleague then wanted to know if I was or would be offended by such comment. My response then was that I was not bothered by what people choose to say because everyone is entitled to their own opinion. Being disabled myself, I am generally unconcerned, or should I say nonchalant, when I hear certain comment that is directly or indirectly channelled towards me as long as it is not derogatory. That’s my choice. But in relation to wage and work as far as disability is concerned, that comment does not take anything away from me. It means absolutely nothing and I am not in the slightest way offended by that. Why? Because I know my worth even if he cannot see it.

Physical disability is something I learnt over the years to deal with the best I can. Growing up in a supportive family who do not see disability as a limitation to achieving anything in life, I learnt from a very young age that I am as important as every other person. My parents drummed it in my ears early in life that the fact I have a physical disability does not make me different from my siblings. I learnt the importance of hard-work, importance of good education and independence from parents and older siblings. I was entrusted with some responsibilities as much as my other siblings, and I was expected to deliver the expected result. Disability was not an excuse to fail in school exams; it certainly wasn’t an excuse for not completing my assigned house chores. Disability was just disability and nothing more. Having learnt that there were so many ways of killing a rat, that principle is what we apply in life when faced with challenges like disability. Therefore, with physical disability comes the positive competition and striving to prove a point to people who see physical disability as the be-all-end-all. Continue reading “My take on Lord Freud’s Disability and National Minimum Wage”

Which way Nigeria?

“The Nigerian Children/Youths and National Survival”. That was the title of an essay competition I participated in about 15 years ago, precisely when I was JS2 for the junior category of the competition. Participating in that competition meant a lot to me then not just because I was representing my school in a state competition but because I had an opportunity to express my views about the Nigerian child or youth who I so much believe in.

The essay was written from the perspective of the roles the young people could play for the survival of the nation with emphasis on acquiring education, quitting bad habits like smoking and being a menace to the society to mention a few. It portrayed the fact that young people need to shun negative vices so as to be prepared to take the nation to the next level. Though so young I believed so much in the Nigerian youth simply because “we are the leaders of tomorrow”.

Many years later, I am still wondering if I am right in my assumptions. I started having this mixed feeling when I got into the higher institution and saw more than my eyes could behold. The supposed leaders of tomorrow have jumped from frying pan to fire. Why?

Well corruption tripled in the country and the leaders of tomorrow followed the ugly trend. Sadly they are being sponsored by the powers that be and men of high repute. When young people are fighting for their rights, the powers that be use one of them as a puppet and so destabilise the group. Why and how you ask?

Power and fame. Without power which is backed by money in Nigeria, you are as good as gone. God-fatherism. With you god-father, even an illiterate can attain the highest position and order literate people around – who do you know that knows who!

Bribery is no crime even when it is your right in your own country. Do we talk about the roads, power supply, water and other basic amenities? Those are things of the past no longer considered basic for the poor masses but those who have the backup to afford it. Corruption is a no-go-area which you practically can do nothing about, but only with God’s divine intervention. A friend told me that a time is coming when the youths of Nigeria will start bribing the old corrupt leaders to tell the truth which they now refuse, if that is what will bring the change we long for. Do you know what that implies? Selling their (corrupt leaders) pride at a cheap rate.

Man must survive. Yes we need to survive. When will it be that the dreams of Nigerian Youths and National Survival be realised? Will it ever be? We are getting worse by the day. Why? The lyrics of Sunny Okosun’s Which way Nigeria of the 1980’s I suppose is still very fresh in my memory. He is a man of vision who saw what many did not see. He asked a pertinent question – How long shall we be patient before we reach the Promised Land? 48 years after independence we still ask Which way Nigeria! That forms part of the reason why a lot of people migrate to other places in search of greener pasture. Do you blame them?

We use to say, “When we finish school, we will change the country”, but that was wishful thinking. Many young people went for courses that should stand them out from the crowd, but when we finished what happened? We walked up and down the Nigerian streets in search of jobs with our wonderful qualifications and having served our fatherland, till the soles of our shoes saw better days. Therefore many joined the band wagon doing exactly what we condemn many years ago. Do they have a choice?

The height of it is that you get no encouragement or support when you are trying to make an impact. For instance the rate of corruption has wiped out scholarship scheme in Nigerian educational system, except for people who have god-fathers. Scholarship is never advertised. Many have been denied, that till date, a scholarship merited and an opportunity to get one because they do not have father Abraham. I am a living witness to that denial. Many African students overseas are being sponsored by their government except Nigeria. Very sad in deed.

We need to change all this that gives a dog a bad name. Nigeria has all it takes to make life comfortable for its citizens. Are we not tired of this ugly trend called corruption which has been hammered on countless times? I think a lot of Nigerians are fed up. The leaders need to let go of greed which they hold so dear and embrace the truth – which is A time for change. It will take nothing out of them if for once they do the right thing and leave deceit. A time has come to stop fitting square pegs into round holes, and call a spade a spade.

First published 05042008 on Nigeria Village Square http://www.nigeriavillagesquare.com/articles/obianuju-chiamaka-amamgbo/which-way-nigeria-3.html