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That MY HEART may go on…

                                          Countdown to TWC ‘17 (Part One) do 4

Do you ever feel a strong pang or spasm within you whenever you recall a certain disheartening event from your past? Even though it’s meant to be locked-up and discarded far away from your subconscious, it still finds its way to interrupt the joy you thought you have built for the present day, and shatters all the dreams for your future plans.

Some call it unforgettable memories; many call it the past that never left; to others, it is the wound that never heals! Whatever name it’s called, believe me, every single woman reading this has experienced dealing with one or more!

We’ve all had that heart fracture, heart split, from the goofy lover-boy from down the street with tales so tall it hurts! Some from intimate family issues that never were resolved, complicated relationships, loveless marriages, lost love due to separation, divorce, death or childhood trauma that’s now affecting our adult lives.

We all know someone still battling with the weight of the pain from their past, that’s crippling their heart and holding them back from approaching a whole new life that God has in store for them!

Isn’t it time to walk out of the ICU of our mindset? After listening to people who have walked similar paths?  Isn’t it time to trust our hearts to beat again and move on?

How do we explain the fear of the thought of sex or just being touched even with the one we have been married to? Or why the addiction to sex is just a carryover of the foundation we were forcefully introduced to during our innocent childhood? Or why we have to be so insecure and never able to trust anyone again, calculating and playing vigilante with every prospective suitor? especially after trust has been broken, either mentally, physically or emotionally? How do we allow our hearts to go on? How do we love again…

“Ring-a-ring o’ roses, a pocket full of posies, A-tishoo! A-tishoo! We all fall down”

What do I do when instead of spontaneous falling and getting back up again in my childish glee and giggle, I am held down by the shackles of trauma… molestation… fingering… rape… incest… emotional neglect… physical abuse? And we hide under the umbrella of a barbaric culture that silenced the victim’s voice but uphold the face of the culprit! should we just bury it in a place so far deep in our subconscious, that it ceases to exist? Hmmm or did it really happen? Have we been brainwashed to believe it never happened? What do you think?

Volcano: 1 in 3 people were abused in childhood and carry these scars to adulthood. Sequelae: Fear of intimacy, Sexual acting out and Addiction

Frigidity: Anger, bitterness, resentment, Post-traumatic stress disorder, Dysphoria, irritability Sleep problems, flash backs, Anxiety, Hyper-vigilance.

Come April 27th to April 29th, all of the above and more will be discussed at the 2017 Total Woman Conference by seasoned speakers who will also be providing one-on-one counselling.

Forget the hurts of the past, Forsake unwholesomeness,  Forge ahead in the power and authority of Christ, Forge into new frontiers of love peace & prosperity”

And because sometimes, life is a game that will always be played on, but God’s love is always unconditional and never changes! Let’s be deliberate by being a part of the movement that aims to turn our pain into gain and propels us to become THAT woman God predestined us to be.

Don’t let the pain you are going through deter God’s purpose in your life.

To be continued. logo-tw

Yours in HOPE

Yinka & Enitan.

TWC Workshop Team.
http://www.totalwomanmovement.com

 

 

 

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Does Ignorance breed Hatred?

race-1One thing is always constant in our memory. How we treat people, and how people perceive us. Since we are not all wired alike due to differences in our background and cultural beliefs, we tend to allow our biases be the appraisal tool or the judgmental stick ever presented, but never represented in its right content.

Is there a pathway or an escape route for being classified as different? Because I don’t Look like you? Think like you? Talk like you or Move like you qualifies me as a lesser being or just simply unqualified?  #AllLivesMatter

Have you ever found yourself fidgeting or uncomfortable when certain topics are discussed? Like the first time you fully understood the real meaning of racism as ‘being deprived of equality? Have your emotions been all over the place about the recent Presidential election? Excited? Astonished? Confused? Is it enough for anyone to fall into the ravine of worry, anxiety, and outright fear?    #HopeLives

Do you recall the first time you literally felt a sharp stab in your chest because you were treated differently? You checked yourself out over again! You blurted out subconsciously like a queen-bee about to be dethroned from her colony “Ah, is it not me?

race-4You must have had positive energy, but was rather served with negative vibes of unfairness and a bias attitude. Perhaps, it wasn’t intentional, but H-E-L-L-O! ’It was a discriminative slur, relatively condescending and the message surely hit home. Period.

For some few seconds, did you quickly gasp for air or cough into your palm, secretly smelling it to see if your breath was the culprit or if the perspiration caused from the invisible slap had dribbled cold sweat to your perfectly deodorized-armpit, did it play a role in this brutal emotional abuse? Or maybe all of a sudden, you finally realize that your skin color differs? Oh, could it be gender issues? Or maybe it’s the textured foreign accent that sold you out? Your ‘Rs” and “Hs” not aligning with your lingual heredity. Aha! You-are-busted!

Whatever form of prejudice you have encountered…’permit me to welcome you to the baffled world of disparity, distinction and divergence! Scholarly referred to as “different” but sophisticatedly acknowledged as racism, sexism, classicism or any of the other “ISMs”! And in a layman’s language: #Outcast

race-7During my elementary school days at CCS Victoria Island Lagos, Nigeria, my dark-skinned creative art teacher, Mrs. Benson wanted something different for the upcoming yearly prize giving day. Usually, I was always on the front line of the ever melodious Hausa/Fulani cultural dance group. I always looked forward to being thrown up in the air during the “Dan Mani O” dance or when am given the lead role to twist my tiny waist and begin the dramatic ‘Tama-yaki-tama’ dance!

There’s something sensual and feminine about the way we cover our faces with our beautifully intricately painted hands, smiling shyly, pulling the scarf to cover our innocent baby face as the groomed make-believe Fulani herds boys (mostly consisted of the 4 Akwa-Ibom boys in my class) holla in salute to our indulged innocence. The glittery dangling gold-plated bangles on our skinny wrists, the catchy black eyelids lined to perfection, revealing the unknown cat eyes we were too young to understand was there! #Hilarious

But, she had specifically declared she wanted an Indian-cultural dance group! – Hmmm…’Oh-ok! And was only selecting “Beautiful”, “Light skinned-Girls with long silky hair”. So happens my school did have about 70% kids who were of mixed heritage, what we called half-caste then, and honestly, with my Brazilian-heritage surname, I was classically considered mulatto? Or so I thought until I wasn’t selected! Oh Snap!

race-12Eventually, I still managed to shine on stage during my Hausa/Fulani dance, but as young as I was then, I was so heartbroken for being discriminated against. After all I knew all the latest Indian songs by heart, I had always sneaked out with my big sister to watch Indian movies at Plaza cinema when Mom’s not aware! In fact, I could have sworn that Amitabh Baachan and Shashi Kapoor acknowledged my commitment! (Lol)

Why wasn’t I selected to represent their culture? Ah! Was it because my mom had annoyingly made my natural hair that week with the black glossy thread (I always hated that local hairdo anyway!) And I honestly blamed my hair stylist, Sisi Joyce! (The Obalende hair-lady who had gone away to have her 6th baby)! Maybe my hair wasn’t silky and long enough like my adorable big sister, ‘Bopo who had such beautiful rich textured long hair, one to die for? Or maybe, I just wasn’t good enough?

hairWhat-was-the-selection-criteria? I wondered and contemplated and needed to understand why I didn’t fit into that group? After all, Chizo Njoku was selected, yeah! And we both had the same hair style, and if anything she was really dark-skinned! (PS: Chizoba dear! pardon me) LOL!

What made them more qualified and me less capable? Asking my mother didn’t help the issue, she was more curious and concerned that I didn’t join the Igbo dance troupe!  Seriously!!  #TribalIssues

So, chances are all of us have all dealt with one kind of discriminatory episode or the other in our lives, but then as we get older, the term begins to get more softened or intimidating. We tend to learn from it, grow with it or die in denial about it.

There is a common ground we tend to create when we encounter people of a different race or culture during a challenging period of our lives, one that’s always beyond our control.

race-5Through our journey in life, we must have encountered one or two people who deeply touched us positively or negatively and are not of the same racial background like us, and vice versa. Did we recognize that common ground of interest that created the bond or lack there of it, initially?

For me, I’d learned to set into motion the reality of fighting acceptance at an early stage, I‘ve learned to rely on my strength by using my God-given ability to dust off discrimination of any form I encounter. I have learned to walk up straight and tall with confidence and genuine power of authority as I have been so blessed to lead a corporate world that limits the voice of the minorities! #RIPGwenIfill

I’ve learned not only to ignore the underlying slurs of weakness in ignorant people around me, but shaking off  doubt and seeing it as a stepping stone of advancement for what I believe in. I’ve learned to walk into crowded seminar halls full of people who did not look or sound like me, to give presentations or teach clinical programs on topics that keep my audience  alert, awake and in tears at night concerning issues of their well-being or the life span of their children. I’ve learned to leave outside the door any form of distraction or bitterness that comes with the history, but focusing and creating a deep devotion for what I believe in, and making them crave for my worth rather than wonder on what kind of specimen or gene I am made of!  #StrongBlackWoman

What about you? How do you handle discrimination? Has it ever occurred to you that we are “still” waging an eternal war on equality and basic human right?

You see, as boring as history is today, one story considered valid in one classroom, at one time, and in one place will not necessarily be considered so in another classroom, at another time, and in another place. Our test of humanity contains the true-false item we all refuse to accept. If we are defined by the restoring, forgiving grace of God, not by our past choices, others’ voices, or our present struggles. Shouldn’t we be reminded of the value God sees in us?race-6

In Langston Hughes’s book “Ways of white folk’s (Cora Unashamed) I learned the defeating rage of vengeance on how long and frustrating it was to wait to get behind closed-doors to finally vent, after being ridiculed and humiliated for years in public. Oh Yes!

How many times have we debunked classicism (dignity and elegance) as “not in my clique” kind of experience, even in the smallest informal settings we find ourselves?  Just like my Father would say continuously when enraged about the corruption in the distribution of land ownership “My daughter, hmm’ They can’t buy class” – I thought money could? Oh-My-word!

Or have we given up on the fight on racial discrimination and would rather hang around only those we are “comfortable” with or there are possibilities of having a biased mindset about the other ethnic group due to their contexts or culture? Are we terrified of Individuals from diverse subgroups such as those defined by race, ethnicity, gender, culture, language, age, disability or socio economic status?race-2

Today, I guess religion and politics will always be biased areas because a line has been drawn in the sand and everyone must choose a side which creates that bias. But this shouldn’t be for equality, it should be unbiased and fair as possible.

I am hoping that someone reading this, as they go through one of those “less than trusting” days, be reminded that God is still in control. Yes, God does give us the risky gift of choice, but He is still sovereign and sitting on His throne. Still in doubt?

Moving forward, let’s enter a new phase and stage of life, we can be confident that God goes before us. Because of whatever circumstances we are facing, all we see is an unknown but rather intimidating future ahead of us, would you think the state of the economy is all in the rebellion against the elites? While, others suffer for it?

Are there complications that have your heart grieving and sifting through ashes? Perhaps you are trying to keep a stiff upper lip and carry those broken burdens quietly? Equality, Immigration or Generalization issues?

race-10Let’s enlighten ourselves some and shed the ignorance that so glaringly blinds us from the burning reality that surrounds us. Ignorance like darkness, clouds one’s judgment and leads one into a maze of fear, doubt, intimidation, uncertainty, confusion and if we are not careful a state of total anarchy.

The reality is that we live in a broken world. Trials and trouble are a byproduct of that brokenness. Shouldn’t we be pleading with God for an exemption clause? However, I have discovered an amazing truth that makes it easier to face every shattering moment that lies ahead, to keep HOPE alive in the CHANGE I choose to be!  #ChangeIsTheOnlyConstant

Yours in HOPE as I share one of my favorite quotes by VP Joe Biden (Uncle Joe)

Yinka.

‘No fundamental social change occurs merely because government acts, it’s because civil society, the conscience of a country, begins to rise up and demand-demand-demand change’The Real Joe Biden – an accomplished statesman and deceptively eloquent orator.

 

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It’s…”SHOW TIME” on our stage!

stage 1Expression of how we showcase our lifestyle is a stage. It is that performance we enthusiastically give, grudgingly impose, and inquisitively evaluate. Either expressed with humor or sarcasm, it is that ACT we love to display and want the world to see, and most likely will crave admiration.

Our stage displays our performance. The world we live in is our stage. Our audience, comes from a variety of un-assuming spectators. Sometimes they cheer us positively on that stage, and sometimes they boo us off that same stage! The after-effect of the occurrence of our performance on the stage is powerful. It can either break us or make us. Hmm, totally bizarre!

During my teenage years at my church parish, Holy Cross Cathedral, Lagos I’d joined other selected kids invited to a neighboring parish for an after-mass visitation and dinner. It usually was with my favorite priest, Monsignor Gabriel Osu. He would usher us (4 kids) into his powder blue Volkswagen beetle and during the drive will allow us to chatter freely, especially on sensitive issues we were dealing with as teenagers both at home and in school. After talking about our future plans of stardom and greatness, we’d all conclude with…’and oh, the world will love us! (Our performance).

One of his resounding advice then was, “Handle life like you are the builder of the stage, that way, your performance is genuine, your act is second-skin and allow your creator to be your spectator” It’s been almost 30 years now…and every time I hear the word stage, the message resonates!

Oh well! That message didn’t mean much to us then, after all, our mind was focused on the extravagant feast of fragrant savory beans, meats so tender they could be shredded with a fork, crispy-sweet fried plantains. It was good and beautiful, prepared and served with love and the hope that it would do more than quiet our rumbling stomachs.

So, our stage is that elevated platform in our life. It is that moment in our life when the spotlight is on us, a time of raised podium or terrace of exhibition (show time) either exalted or inflated. It is that period when we are pushed forward by courage to display our creativity. We become actors and actresses of our gifting. Sometimes, we get drunk in the moment, with life’s cheap exotic brewery of arrogance. The mic gets too heavy for us, the audience gives a disdain look, we get carried away with stage-fright and say too much or we get intimidated and loose our balance. Our stage. Ah! A place of reckoning.

As we begin to count down into a new year, let’s examine our stage. Does our act suck? Does our performance on our stage speak well of us? Do we climb our stage with a mind full of gratitude or look down at the audience with contempt? Are we still afraid to step up the podium, unto our stage? Ignoring the fancy scenery and battens support? Do we welcome mistakes and then fix them? So much of learning arises from the errors we all make. Do we remain receptive and positive to mistakes as markers for future improvement? Healthy evaluation stimulates progress, while excessive self-criticism raises anxiety and creates unrealistic expectations.

Embrace your stage today. Ascend it with hope. Descend it with a legacy. Act on it as if you are the builder. Influence people with your performance. Entertain people with your God-given talent. Expect more when the audience gives you full attention. Exit your scenes with a grateful heart and a promising attitude. It’s okay to be teary-eyed when you get a standing ovation, because you have positively encouraged and elevated someone! I pray that our stages are recurring platforms of support and comfort to others!

Yinka.

All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts, All the World’s A Stage by William Shakespeare.

 

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