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30/07/2025

Come let’s unbox my clearest apple addition

30/07/2025

We went to ebeano for just one thing, our good old nigerian broom, and of course, we didn’t see it 😅 and instead of turning back, somehow we started picking up, kuli kuli, chin chin, golden morn, bobo, even a table mat 🤣.

Theday i walk into a store and buy only what i went for, i promise i’ll do thanksgiving 😂.

But honestly, it was worth it. this was the kids’ first time in a nigerian/african store, and they had the best time!
Ava kept recognizing things she remembered from naija, while Anna and Bim were just floating and touching everything like they were in a candy store.

it was chaotic, funny, and nostalgic, the kind of memory i’ll hold onto ❤️.

29/07/2025

Is the no filter glow for me🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

Bim shot it 📸

29/07/2025

Summer days are for making memories 💛
Outside with my crew, sunshine and smiles 🌸🌞

29/07/2025

E DON START O! 😩😂

I’ve noticed that Anna doesn’t engage in chores the way her sisters do.
In fact, she has completely lost interest in coming to the kitchen when I’m cooking.
She used to love being around me there, but as she’s growing, that interest has just disappeared.

The other day, I told her to wash her plate after eating.
She quickly reminded me that she isn’t “tall enough yet.” 😅
So, I introduced a new system: Anna and Ava will now wash dishes together, Ava washes, Anna rinses. (Thank God for two sinks o!)

Fast forward to yesterday evening, I reminded them to go do the dishes.
Anna suddenly announced that her chest was paining her. Ava tried to convince her to just come, wash a few, and leave the rest for morning, but Anna flat-out refused.

Normally, I don’t like leaving dishes overnight.
I could have asked Ava to do it alone or easily done it myself, but I reminded myself of what I’m aiming for: raising children who take responsibility. So, I told them plainly, our outing tomorrow depends on the state of the kitchen, and I will not do it for them.

Anna still insisted she wasn’t feeling well, so we all went to bed.
This morning, Ava literally dragged her out of bed to finish the dishes.
They’re downstairs now, and all I can hear is arguments, bickering, and dishes clattering.
Meanwhile, I’m just in my room, minding my business. 😅

These days, I’ve learned to choose my bǎțțłes.
They are growing, and things can’t always go exactly how I want them to. If I don’t allow them to figure it out (with a bit of tough love), they won’t learn.

Parenting at this stage is a real test. What’s this stage called again? 😩😩😩
It’s definitely not easy raising responsible kids who will grow into well-rounded, independent adults, but we keep trying. ❤️

29/07/2025

✨ WHEN DID CELEBRATIONS STOP BEING ABOUT THE REASON, AND START BEING ABOUT THE COMPETITION?

A few days ago, I shared my thoughts about how children’s graduations in Nigeria have slowly turned into a show, a stage for competition and influence rather than a celebration of the kids themselves.

Today, I want to take that conversation a little further. Let’s talk about women’s gatherings, August Meetings, Mother’s Day celebrations, and other women’s meetings.

I remember growing up, when it became strictly compulsory for women in church attending these meetings to wear uniforms.
The leaders introduced a specific material, plain white silk, with a simple blouse and wrapper. Why? Because women had begun using these gatherings as an opportunity to show off, to go overboard, and to intimidate those who didn’t have as much.

That decision to set a standard was powerful.
In fact, many villages eventually adopted the same for their August Meetings.
Without it, women who returned from the diaspora or bigger cities would have crushed the confidence of local women, parading wealth and intimidating those who had little.

Even in my parents’ church, they enforced moderation: simple jewelry, nothing excessive, every woman should look beautiful and moderate so far as you have that uniform on.
The goal wasn’t to strip away beauty, but to preserve unity, humility, and focus. You could look like “Queen of the Marine Kingdom” on your own time if you wanted, but not in those gatherings.

And you know what? I wish Nigerian schools could borrow a page from this playbook. 🎓

Imagine if graduations had clear guidelines: a defined dress code, a limit to excess, a way to keep the spotlight where it belongs, on the children.

After the event, families who wish to celebrate in grandeur could still rent a hall, throw a party, and enjoy themselves, but inside the school grounds, it would be about the children, not about who has the most money, influence, or extravagant outfit or entrance.

Because at the end of the day, these occasions should be about community, unity, and the true purpose of the celebration, not competition.

29/07/2025

Yesterday, my mum sent me a picture of me and my classmate from secondary school Ndukwe Ifeoma, and it instantly took me down memory lane. 🥹✨

I attended a boarding school, and looking back, that experience shaped me in ways I’ll never forget.

Living away from home at such a young age taught me survival skills, resilience, and independence that I don’t think I would have developed as a day student.

That was where I experienced the realest friendships, I gained friends for life, I cherish all my friends from secondary school, the bond is sacred.

In fact, when I was younger and still single, I used to say, “My kids will definitely attend boarding school.” That was how much I valued the experience.

But with time, age, and perspective I’ve changed my mind.
Why? Because the boarding house system we knew back then is not the same anymore.
Society has shifted.
Negative stories, moral decadence, and heartbreaking news about what goes on in some boarding schools today have made me rethink that choice.

Yes, I won’t sugarcoat it, my time in boarding school wasn’t all rosy.
As a junior, I experienced bullying.
The seniors were tough, and the teachers? Extremely strict. I suffered, I struggled, but I also learned. That mix of hardship and growth built something in me.

But as a parent today, I honestly don’t think I’d want my kids to go through those same struggles.
The world is different now, and I can’t ignore the risks.

📌 So I’m curious:
• Did you attend a boarding school?
• If yes or no, would you send your kids there, given how things are today?
• What are some of the most unforgettable lessons or memories you had?

I’d really love to hear your thoughts and experiences. Let’s talk. 👇

God bless international secondary school my Alma mater🎶
God bless 2002/2008 set, we made wonderful memories💕💕💕

29/07/2025

I’m still in disbelief, I haven’t fully processed this because I don’t know how to.

How can I come to terms with the fact that my beloved cousin, my Aunty Oleka, is no more?

This doesn’t feel real.
We had plans, aunty you promised me.
You told me you wouldn’t leave me.
You said you wouldn’t leave your kids alone in this w!čked world.
I believed you. I really believed you’d pull through.

Your faith was fierce, rugged, it gave me hope even when things looked hard. It gave me something to hold on to.

Now I’m here, frozen since I got that message.

It was early on Sunday morning around 5am. I just got up to use the bathroom, casually checked my phone, and everything changed.

Since then, I’ve been numb. I boxed up every feeling and locked it deep away.
I’ve cried a little, here and there, but my head is too heavy, my heart too dizzy to fully let this sink in.

Aunty Oleka nke nani m, this hurts so, so much.
I’ve been talking to myself, asking you questions that will never be answered.
Who did you leave your children for? Especially Emmanuella and Amara?
Who will care for them the way you did?

You didn’t go without a fïğħt I know that.
I know you didn’t want to leave, you told me you would come out of this and I clung to that.

Since Sunday, I’ve been pretending to be strong, but the truth? I’m not.
I’m scared to unpack the box of emotions I’ve stuffed away.
Because once I do, it becomes real.

Most people didn’t know how close we were.
How much I cherished you.
You weren’t just my cousin, you were a piece of my heart.

Aunty Oleka m, I’m broken.
I’m not even ready to call this a tribute, because deep down, I still don’t believe it.

But I needed to let these words out because the silence is too heavy.
Rest, aunty,
I will love you forever. 🕊️💔

Only God knows how I love this woman, and I’m so glad she felt the love, I have no regrets in that aspect.

28/07/2025

Just us, the breeze, and a beautiful view.

28/07/2025

Am I the only one experiencing this?

This is how Bim eats her apple, actually, any fruit that has a “back,” as she calls it.
If the outside texture doesn’t match the inside, forget it. Apple? Peel it. Mango? Peel it. Coconut? Don’t even bother unless it’s prepped and looking soft and friendly 😂.

Bim will literally hand the fruit back to me mid-bite after scraping the insides and say, “Mummy, i dont like the back.” Like excuse me, Miss Ma’am 😭

Anna’s the same. They both act like the edible peel is some kind of personal offense. 🍎🥭🥥

And don’t get me started on eggs. They only eat the white. Not a hint of yolk allowed on their plates. So now I’m over here finishing leftover yolks like it’s my side dish. 💀

Sometimes I just pause and think, how did we get here? 😅

Anyone else’s kids have these very specific, very dramatic food rules? Please tell me I’m not alone!

28/07/2025

11:35am
Up and grateful, and our day just started.

I wish you all an amazing day

28/07/2025

The first picture was when I clocked one year old.

According to my mum, I was actually sick that day, but for memory’s sake, she still carried me to the studio to take some birthday pictures, and I’m glad she did because I wouldn’t have had anything to look back on.

When you think of how there were no mobile phones with camera, no instant selfies, just pure effort and planning, you’ll appreciate the inconvenience she went through to preserve that memory.

Now the second picture, that one always makes me smile.

It was my kindergarten graduation, and we were to present a little stage drama about different countries and tribes.

Guess what?

They chose me to represent India. India o! 😂

I remember my mum buying a lilac-coloured fabric and taking me to one of our church member’s houses who was a tailor, to make a proper Indian saree for me.

Looking back now, it’s the effort for me.

And let’s talk about the hair.

It was my elder sister that made that long flowing hair. No gel, no leave-in conditioner, no fancy weave-on, just hair extensions, AKA attachment 😂

Chinyere Michael Esse come and explain how you achieved that length without using all the things we now think are a must. You too try!

True true, no be today school begin stress parents, maybe in my mum’s mind that period she was wondering, “Wetin concern this my daughter with India?” but she still showed up and made sure I looked the part.

Mothers deserve their flowers abeg. 🌸

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