Image depicting a young adult who’s sunk in depression.

Good evening my wonderful readers. I must say thank you to all of you and I promise that by next year; you would stop seeing unsolicited ads! (smiles). I would have said I’d be doing something in the spirit of Christmas but No!

Now, I don’t know if the Christmas air is in your continent, country, state or city. But, in mine; its a farce! I do believe I speak for my city, my state, even my country when I say this. I know we’ve always read about top 20% of humans earning 80% of the world’s wealth and the large 80% of humans scrambling for the 20% of the world wealth (Well, if you haven’t read Robert Kiyosaki’s, “Rich Dad, Poor Dad”, you should!). In my country, it seems as if the top 2% took all 98% of the wealth while 98% are left to scramble for 2%. Yes, you can imagine when children of different sizes and age ranging from three to fifteen are scrambling for candies; you do know the result. Many of the kids would go empty handed. That’s the exact situation in my country! While some are spending in the Christmas spirit; others have turned introverts, and others are just hanging on.

Image of a young female adult in a depressed mood

I had no idea today was Christmas eve; you could blame it on whatever you choose (though,it’s different at Igbo land). But today use to be a day that I looked forward to. Especially, the night. It was a time we’d sit together and start imagining what Mary or Joseph would be doing. “Maybe, Mary would be preparing for labour”. Or “maybe, Joseph went to buy some baby wears”. Most times, we were predicting what the three wise men would be doing. Everyone of us would be imagining stories and saying aloud! Our fireworks must have been bought in their large quantities, waiting for the evenings. We felt Jesus Christ was actually born at 00:00hours (or 12:01am). We had no idea of timezones then. We actually felt it was same time all over the world. It was a time our parents allowed us to stay out late (in our compound I mean). Today, these are no more. So many people trying to find joy in whatever means the can; so many others not even trying. Some ladies are even making their hair on credit. Many persons aren’t going to their family house because they feel they’re not rich enough to go back home yet. Most persons have debts that they haven’t paid and the debts would still be waiting for them by 2020. The young females who can’t stand rich images of their peers on social media and has to also slay, begins to fall to even ideas they’ve blatantly rejected before.

Image of an adult male mired in depression

What about the males? (Delete the ‘males’ and try) What about the married men? Most of them have had nicer years; promised their life partners heaven on earth; better Christmas in years before. But this one, is one they can’t place a finger on. Its Christmas eve and there is no domestic fowl (hen, cockerel, turkey, etc). This is a situation that is quite new to the wife and even his kids; who had been giving feed and water to fowls of other families tethered around their house in anticipation of their own fowl. Unaware of the economic condition of their family; wondering when some nice aroma would be sneaking in from their kitchen into their sitting room as it had been in their various neighbors’. The man, obviously not happy about his predicament goes on “hibernation”. He isn’t talking to any member of the family, to avoid demands I think. He’s now a stranger in his house, because he believes this way no one would come to him with any demand. It was working till his last kid just four years old comes to him for Christmas cloth. Few distance to tears, but he battles the tears welled up; only for his discontented wife to drag her from his bosom amidst derogatory remarks. Surely, he never planned it this way; January is already here and tuition fee for his five kids won’t be excused nor would the debt of house rent now climbing to two years disappear.

Image of a discontented female

What about the ever happy, ever beautiful Chief bridesmaid (or maid of honour) who is still sad that she’s still single at the end of another year. What’s the point of celebrating? When she can’t have even a boyfriend. She has put in much to be sexy and attract her ‘crushes’. In her eyes, Christmas isn’t anything about Christianity, but a time for her friends to exhibit their lovers and husbands on their timeline for her to see.

My point is: HUMANS ARE DEPRESSED! People are depressed. Its Christmas time, have you ever showed anyone love? I don’t mean love for the timeline or on the timeline. I mean love that you actually did feel. Have you? Have you wondered why that person has been indoors; why he or she won’t celebrate or do anything tomorrow. Would you even bother to visit?

Many times, we want to wait till we are ‘blessed’ before giving, before reaching out. We want it to be huge,without any idea that it is the small tiny things that actually do matter! Don’t think people are not suicidal because its yuletide. Pick your phone ,compose a text; a heartfelt text to that person you know did feel his or her impact in your life. You can also call; don’t rush the call. Wait, reminisce about the splendid moments you had this year and remind them. Even the ones of past years you can remember. Stop being obsessed with yourself. Reach out to people. Pay them a visit if they’re close.

Stop waiting for a SANTA; be a SANTA!

For in giving you’d actually feel the Christmas more!

Compliments of the season!


Image of Nigerians rushing to buy Christmas items in the market this yuletide season

Once more, we do have a guest writer. Yes, the LOVE DOCTOR that gave us the poem: ‘I SHALL LOVE AGAIN’: MEKA WRIGHTS. He’s here to give us a little peep of what Christmas is for Nigerians; even at the nations capital, Abuja. Well, Its for those who haven’t travelled to their countryside yet. Though most Nigerian Christians spend the Christmas in the cities and then travel to their countryside. Now, get a chilled drink, (smiles) with a straw of course. Sit in a well comfy chair or bed and enjoy this beauty!

It was the month of December, the end of the year. That time of the year when students returned from various schools and colleges, workers were also on holidaythe environs was filled with a myriad of activities ranging from street parties to mini carnivals. My household was no exception as Christmas was obviously in the air. Every living soul was in high spirit and earnest anticipation as the portentous aura was scintillating.

It was the 22nd day of December!

“Oga, take the two fowl for #3,500” the woman at the market said to my father, almost amidst tears.
“na the last price for local chicken be that” she added.
My father was still contemplating buying two fowls for Christmas but considering the number of visitors we may have, he bought two.

* * *
“check that chin chin on fire, it has been in oil for too long” my mother quarreled my elder sister as she reacted begrudgingly. I always longed to join the ‘chin chin department’ as I called it; for all the tasting and eating that comes alongside frying. The first set of fried chin chin were crispy and tasty as we always made it; we made half cooler for the guests and their children that may drop by our house for Christmas visit(s).

* * *
It was the 23rd day of December!
My sister had disappeared to a nearby salon to have a hairdo, and of course the boys went alongside dad to have a hair cut as well.
“Oga barb me round cut” my brother that had just returned from school was telling the barber. My father overheard their conversation and quipped “what is round cut”? He asked. “Oga barb that hair low cut for him” he added amidst scoffs. “Daddy, it’s just the style, the reigning style” my brother retorted. My father ignored his argument for a round cut hairstyle. The barber progressed until he had all four of us handsome, with a nice hair cut.
Later that day, we continued to our most anticipated part, ‘purchasing our Christmas clothes’.

* * *
“Chidi, that shirt is too small for your body”
“Nnaemeka, you have a black trouser already at home”
“Victor, that polo is too bogus for your small body” my father yelled. We stayed in the shop testing different clothes until we found those that fitted our slim figures. My father paid #10,700 in total and we left the shop. At home, we brought out antiquated lights from previous years and started decorating our parlour. Dusting the upholstery, the windows; the centre table and our picture frames on the wall. We then bought newer decorations to augment, with captions reading ‘merry Christmas’ and ‘happy new year’. We were set, ready to welcome this year’s Christmas like first child birth from an expectant mother, with high anticipation and eagerness.

* * *
It was the 24th day of December, the Christmas Eve. Noises from knockout ‘as we called it’ was heard from our neighbouring street; children, parents, everyone was in high spirits.
At home, we swept our dusty rug, washed every dirty dish, and ensured there was enough water for convenience and for bathing. My brother and I had been fetching from our well in the compound.
Christmas music filled the air, featuring our all time favourite ‘Boney M’ singing
‘Long time ago in Bethlehem
So the Holy Bible said
Mary’s boy child Jesus Christ
Was born on Christmas day…’ We gathered together and envisaged how this year’s Christmas should look like whilst reminiscing on previous years. We talked about visiting the amusement park, but the decision was thought lame and rebuffed by Silas our most senior. He said there was nothing amusing to see over there and suggested that we all go the cinema or spar for sightseeing and some window shopping.

* * *
It was the 25th day of December. Christmas day, the most anticipated day of the year. We all woke up early to the noise of ‘Happy Christmas ‘ and the sounds of knockout from the neighbors on the next street.
My father led a short devotional as we headed to get prepared for church. We all brought our newly bought clothes and wore excitedly as we headed for the door to show our age mates in the compound. My father was preparing for church also; he wore a native dress with a new Italian shoe his brother had sent him from abroad.
“Be fast! And don’t forget to come along with these hymns when coming” my father shouted at my sister. “Big boys, shall we”? Off we went happily to church with our father…

The rest of the day after church service was absorbing and filled with life; as we were never bored to a standstill. Members from church visited our house, there was plenty to eat and make merry. We followed Silas’ suggestion and went to see movies at the cinema in town, had extreme fun till stupor until we boarded a cab and returned home, and retired to our beds.


So, for our new month wish; we do have a writer, RUBY NATHAN-UTU, born and raised in Port Harcourt, Rivers State, Nigeria; She is a lawyer who enjoys reading immensely. A publisher of I HAVE SEEN A MAN. You can also look it up on In addition to practicing law, she runs THE BUSY MINDS BOOKCLUB. Ruby lives in Port Harcourt where she practices her profession as a lawyer and also engages in educational volunteer work at her spare time.

Now, time to savour her words.

The year has ended, for some – tragedies! nothing else to look forward to.

It just began for others – goodness happened to them.

Some can’t wait for it to be over, others want it to stay a little longer.

Whatever it is, whatever may have or have not happened, remember Tambosele

That’s the name of someone in my place. The name isn’t common. Growing up I knew just one person with it, shortened to Tambo. It was in later years I got to know the full name.
In my dialect, it means literally – “Today is not Tomorrow”
Which is another way of saying nobody knows tomorrow.

So as long as you have breath, remember Tambosele.

Happy new month! Its never over until its over


What happens when you find out that your role model may not be so good for the role?

In my life, at various stages; I had different role models. Different persons I felt my life should be modeled against… Well, at some of the times; I didn’t know it was called role model. Right from primary 5,( if you schooled in Nigeria) up till now. There have been various persons I’ve admired, irrespective of gender, sex, age, tribe nor religion.

One even wrote a book about himself. A book I admired and went back to numerous times. He was my beacon of hope, my beacon of light. I admired his family, I admired his kids, his values, his likes; the way he set himself for his future. When I look at him, I never get jealous (well, I actually never get jealous, I admire cos I feel I’m on same path).

There are also some of role models who are quite far and I got to know them through their movies, books, whatever legacy they might have had.

Most of them, as I matured I dropped them off; perhaps the attachment was more of my childish thoughts. But some others, I weaned myself to the values I saw in them. It might have been their cockiness, their confidence, their gait (I could remember imitating gaits of various men at 17 till I found mine [laughs] at some point, my aunt said I’m now walking like someone who lost his way) their intonation, their patience, their outlook in life, their attitude towards money, women, men,and even towards God.

Now, what then happens when you discover this god of a human isn’t so much of a god?

What happens when you discover that the man you admire his wealth so much is also peddling drugs?

What happens when you discover that the man you admire his wealth, confidence, ego, and authority murdered his mom for money?

What happens when you discover that the lady you admire so much cos of the respect she has placed on herself is another lady by night?

Many times, we discover that people are not who they’ve made themselves appear. Often times too, the downfall of a role model affects the growth curve of his or her protégé; especially if the protégé is mentally frail or if the protégé is a young person or if the person has been overtly possessed.

Most times, we find people supporting their role model despite acknowledging that he or she is wrong. They choose to cast a blind eye, especially if they’ve spent better part of their life studying the life of their role model.

What if you discover your role model doesn’t suit the role any longer, what would you do? What would you advise others to do?


Photo by Sofia Garza on

Hi everyone, It’s been a very very long while. I was going through the stats and saw that my October has actually been a lazy one. Well, not so much of a lazy one; As i just published and launched my very first book. My very first book by the name THE VISIT. I would make a post on this for you guys on my book.

So, on today’s topic. I am not coming to define marginalization nor parents nor love.

I once asked my aunt, “can a parent actually love all her children equally?” She replied, “A parent can actually never love her children equally; it actually depends on the child attitude”. (the reply is paraphrased).

Over the years, you find parents sharing unequal love to their children. Many times, you find that it creates division amongst the siblings. It creates hatred, unhealthy competition that they take even to old age. Many times they do transfer it to generations.

I was opportuned to attend a bible study class where this was their topic. As much as they talked elaborately on this, they missed a thing. An advice for a child that’s being marginalized. Because they felt that the love accrued to the child is as a result of the child’s actions. But most of them were of the school of thought that parents (who are caretakers) should try to identify the strengths of their kids and dwell on them and try to make them stronger and reward as well as lavish love on them according to their strengths. Even going further to add that equal love would yield greater bond among them even at the absence of their parents.

Well, as much as I was pleased at it….. I longed to hear them talk on how a child who’s marginalized should act. Though they did say that the child can actually work his or her way back to earn the parent’s love. I could agree to it too. I would give you my reasons too. At the onset of teen age, my dad didn’t like me so much. He had lost hope in me; perhaps that was his version of hard love. But these were tough times, but I decided to change by myself and for myself. But then, I would like opinions from both adults and also teenagers. Anyone practically!

What’s your take on marginalized love from parents to children…………………………