.....and Anna taught me to Sing

True Story

Anna is a strong, cheerful young lady in her twenties, tall, dark skinned and beautiful, a replica of her kind mother. The Gboko-Markurdi road and BSUTH brought her to my path or will i say, brought me to her path. The circumstances though unfortunate, left lessons for a lifetime.

On her way home from an errand, a sad incident occured, a trailer ran into the bike carrying her and left her paralysed from her neck down. Anna lost the use of both arms and legs. I was carried into the female surgical ward, the same ward as Anna, and found myself beside her. We became neighbours,mates and students in life-changing situations .

It was all new to me, the sudden loss of autonomy, the idleness, the pain and above all, the thought that things will never be the same again. I was learning to cope. I looked over and watched as Anna's mother wiped her up, and met her every need. I wondered about her, I thought about what the future held for her and the cruelty that life puts us through - the uncoordinated tunes life forces us to dance to. She always marvelled me, the only sounds she made were melodious singing, not one day did Anna cry, not one day did I see her lost in thoughts, yea, maybe she wandered into her wilderness, but it was never a habit. The only constant ritual was her festival of songs. Anna sang through it all.

Many will ask how we could thank God in such circumstances, but Anna didn't ask, she did act. She praised God as the psalmist wanted- 'let everything that has breadth give him praise.' She sang because she could. Though legs could not dance and hands could not clap, but her voice always rang to fill the gaps. I grew strong just by watching her, she trained my voice to sing.

Life has been as fair as life can be, but facing it all with joy and hope makes the journey worth the while. I've met adversities, but I've learnt to sing, because Anna taught me so.

Impressions- Aren't we all Hypocrites

Chioma woke up and lazily stretched herself on the bed, she looked at the time piece beside the lamp stand, wishing she could silence its shrill permanently by smashing it against the wall. It was a rainy Saturday morning and her bed hadnt yet had enough of her, she wasnt a morning person, and this was her first night at her In-laws place. Hmmm! times you wish you were married to an American, whose parents will serve you breakfast in bed

‘Be yourself’ is a popular mantra among many, parents echo it to their children, guardians advise their wards, relationship experts are full of it, everyone says ‘be yourself, but then who are WE? Why would I rush to beat the traffic to work on a rainy morning when all I want is to curl up under the duvet and sleep? Can we really be ourselves, can I be myself, can you be Yourself, if you can, then who are you?, a wife to your husband, a mother to your child, an employee to our employer, etc. The different roles we play require different personalities, different expressions and different mannerisms. We are all actors in the stage of life and should act according to our individual scripts, crying when we ought to, laughing, scolding, loving at the right times.

It is in our nature to act our best and leave people thinking the best or worst of us, afterall first impressions matter. If youve ever found yourself doing things youve sworn never to do, relax youre not alone in it, its a conspiracy of the entire human race, HYPOCRISY is a natural state of the human mind.
I laugh when we say “I dont give a hoot about what anyone says or thinks. In reality we all do, we care even way too much. My friend asked, “why must I lie on my resume, can’t I just say my hobbies are singing in the shower and watching movies, must I like reading before I get a job.

The painted, faces, the fake smiles, the beautiful hairdos, the starched shirts, the packaged CVs, all tell one story, we are all hypocrites, we live to please, we act to make lasting impressions, we lie to get what we want. Its all about packaging. For me I will say maybe, just maybe, these different parts and acts are what makes each of us who we truly are- HYPOcREALS
Happy day