Category Archives: Musings

A Collection of Randomness.


I keep playing hide and seek here…

Mostly because a lot of the things I want to say are for me. Only for me. The random stuff, that is. The stuff that make up more than 70% of this blog.

I just sort of lost the urge to put them here. But I think of this space constantly. How much the writing helped me. How free it made me at some point. I miss it.

But…

We probably have outgrown this. I said, “probably”.

If you follow me on Instagram, then you know that has become my personal mini journal of sorts. I’m currently doing the 100 Days of Happiness challenge there, so you can follow my process if you like.

Speaking of, the challenge is so much harder than I thought it’d be. A happiness challenge should make you happy, right? Instead, I find myself constantly in a reflective mood. Don’t get me wrong, that’s a good thing, but it can also be a lot. I guess it’s that way because it forces you to see things you’d otherwise ignore or overlook. It forces you to take stock. If pushes you beyond levels of comfort. It opens you up to be grateful for stuff you’d otherwise not want to count as blessings. It shows you just how full your life is…
None of these sound bad, right? Unless you’re me. Constantly looking for what isn’t working. LOL! I can be such a mess.

But…

I’m going to keep at it. 100 days.

Because I’m learning to find the beauty in my life even if I have to squint really hard to see it now. I’ll keep searching for it until I no longer have to think hard. Until they become an obvious part of my life. Until happiness is a choice. Until I no longer see the filth, whether or not it’s still there.

When was the last time you had a fight with God?

Last night. I called it ‘venting’. And didn’t feel bad until a few hours ago when I had to write for today’s challenge in my journal. It’s not a competition, but He always wins. Because even before I say it, He knows. And because He has the most brilliant smile, melts my heart every time. And because His one word overpowers my entire vocabulary. And because hope. Faith. Love.

Ha!

Oh, one more thing. If you’re a nice person and people tend to take advantage of that, do you keep being nice or build a wall?

My answer: Be yourself. The ones who’ll appreciate you, will. Not everyone. Not all the time. These walls, they not only shut people out, they keep you locked in. Imprisoned. And that, my friend, is no way to live.

Stay.

Sweetness and an abundance of happiness,
Kov!

On Letting Go…On Moving On


Life is unpredictable.

Yes, that is my big revelation. After 27 years trying to understand it, this is what I have found; life is unpredictable.

Love is unpredictable.

I was having a conversation today about letting go, and someone (who has played a fatherly role in my life for as long as I can remember) said I love too passionately. He went further to emphasise that he didn’t think it was necessarily a bad thing, but it just meant that I’d find it much harder to grasp the concept of moving on.

Moments after, I am left wondering what “loving passionately” even means. Is there a way to love less than passionately? How does one love that way? Can we even call it love if it isn’t passionate? Call me naïve…

Eventually, you have to cut your loses, no matter how painful. You have to look yourself in the mirror and recount the lessons you’ve learned. Sometimes, that is enough. Knowing that in this period, ten years or ten months, you have learned something. There will be something that you will take with you for the rest of your life, a piece of someone else, a collection of memories, a memoir of an ‘unlived future’, an abundance of new strengths developed… Whatever it is, that ‘something’ will act as a reminder that in a given space, and at a given time, you found the you that you had always been too afraid to be. That person is worth love, of the passionate kind.

Life is unpredictable.

So what if you still carry around boxes of “to-dos”? Put the box down for a second and take out those dreams one at a time, or several at a time, and live them. Some of them will make sense. Some others will be outrageous!!! But who cares?! They are of no use in the box anyway. (You might want to ignore me now. LOL.)

But yeah, be happy! Just BE! For no apparent reason. For the heck of it. For the sake of living and loving and laughing and everything in between. BE!

Life. Is. Unpredictable.

So every chance you get, stamp yourself in it. And when people call you weird, know that it is because they are too afraid to live. When they leave, understand that they are too afraid to find peace with the world around them. Too busy seeking control. They fail to see the fickleness of it all.
Don’t be like them.

And when you make a list of all the things yet undone, strike out ‘safe’.

If you fail, laugh it off. Have a glass or two of something. And try again… Maybe at something else. Even if it’s just so you have two things now done. Haha! So reckless! Yet, so free.

Free.

Life is unpredictable. So is love.

Don’t try to figure it out. Take what you can. Live. Give of yourself. Love.

BE.

Love, light & freedom songs,
Kov!

PS. I’ve not been drinking, I promise.

20.01.14


*Of nonsensical jumble of words…

I haven’t been able to write for sometime now. I could have a subject of interest. Subjects. I could also have the words, but only in my head. And there seems to be a disconnect between that place where the words are stored, and the fingers that should eventually transform them to actual, readable work. The ton of unfinished poetry sitting quietly in my drafts, do not count.
I have however taken to reading instead. As many things as I can lay my hands on. Books. Blogs. Magazines. Oh, I’ve also become addicted to Tumblr. Words. Pictures. Random ideas. It’s just beautiful. The goal is to read at least a hundred books this year. Possible, if I read at least two books a week. I’m currently on my sixth.
*NoViolet Bulawayo’s We Need New Names, is my favourite so far. It’s funny without even trying to be. And the humour doesn’t take away from the seriousness of it. It was quite a lovely read.

Making music is such a beautiful thing. I really hope I do not screw it up at some point. Someone asked me yesterday if my music was ‘marketable’. I think what he meant, really, was that Nigerians only listened to one genre of music. And as a music-loving Nigerian, I was slightly offended. Only slightly though, because in reality…. I’d rather not go there. I’ve shared my music with only a handful and well… I guess those who will love it, will. It’s impossible to make music (or anything really) for everyone.

I took January off work. Best. Decision. Ever.

The greatest thing about 2014 for me, is the promise of laughter. Just you wait and see.

I love my church for many reasons, one of which is the opportunity given to everyone to use their talents. And if for some reason you’re not exactly sure what it is, the ‘trial and error’ friendly policy works in your favour. How else would I have known that I could work in video production? Or actually enjoy being in front of a camera? Motion camera. Or love editing and publication? Endless possibilities.

Haaaaayyy! I finally learned to drive stick. I still hate it though… But at least now when I’m asked if I know how to drive, I can say yes without having to worry about Efe’s voice in my head saying driving automatic cars isn’t really driving. In related news, I also learned how to beg an agbero… Errrm something about a major dent on a commercial bus, and a missing headlight from my mother’s Mercedes. Long story.

I should put an end to this rambling. And pray that the writing comes back. In the meantime, enjoy what’s available.

I just looked up from this screen to find the guitar staring back at me. Hmmm… Someone will be getting a Voicenote tonight.

Peace, love, and laughter,
Kov!

Update (Of Sorts)… Heart Of The Matter.


I’ve grown accustomed to the sound of my laughter. Isn’t that a funny thing to say? But I have. I hear it so often now, it warms my soul. I can’t see much of a difference between then and now. It’s the type of joy that I can’t explain. I guess it’s a heart thing. For the kingdom of God is righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost…
The endless giggling and continuous smiling, even when I don’t have reason to… Especially when I don’t have reason to. D had to look through my phone searching for the source of my ‘entertainment’. He pronounced joy wrong. And you won’t find it there, Sir, it’s a heart thing.
Recent decisions have brought on serious questioning, and in some cases, chastising… Are you out of your mind?! I believe I am. Out of the mind I’ve allowed myself believe was mine, because that’s what was expected of me. And in the midst of the craziness, I laugh. You wonder why? Darling, it’s a heart thing.
I’ve stopped trying to figure it out. I no longer want to make sense of it. It’s here, it’s now. For the fruit of the Spirit is… joy…
I delight myself in Him who grants the desires of my heart. Even when I don’t see it. Because, my friend, it truly is a heart thing.

Of Mismatched Socks and Oversized Tees…


drinking flavoured tea from coffee mugs… eating nearly overripe avocados in my grandmother’s verandah… running fingers over grand pianos and listening to Ludovico Einaudi… flowers growing in earthen containers… snuggling and cuddling and forehead kisses… caroling on the balcony and Home Alone… rooftop parties and drinking wine from plastic cups… dancing to Fela and singing along to Nina Simone… conversations that carry on into the night, star gazing, and renaming Greek heroes… smell of party jollof rice and scraping remnants from burnt cooking… nakedness, being alone, and feeling no shame… stealing appetisers and giggles under serving tables… endless chores and familiar voices… luxury of ‘quiet’, large beds, comfortable pillows, and extra soft duvets… malaria, mother’s fretting, and meals in front of the TV… sentences that begin in perfect English and end in flawless pidgin…

Of endless prayers and special names…
mother’s voice and anico… specific instructions and phone calls just because… quarrels with my sister and continuous sulking… the strength that was grandma’s hands, and pronounced veins… letters from the 70s, stories of London and Switzerland… pancakes and milk, and an endless supply of soft-boiled eggs… recounting breakups, tear-stained pillows, and the tightest of hugs… more prayers… even more prayers and exchanging Bible verses while wrapping moin-moin in leaves… bookshelves that reach the ceiling, reading out lines and paragraphs during dinner… memorizing favourite lines from Grey’s Anatomy, and bookmarking special recipes…
Of evening walks and roasted plantain.

==========================
These days, I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about home and all the memories I’ve gathered here. In the new year, I’ll be going away from home again. Unlike previous moves, this one is sort of long term. This move is scary for me (maybe sometime before I leave, I’ll explain why). I’m definitely going to miss having my mum around. For a long time it’s just been us – mum, sis, and I – and maybe for the first few months, I’ll find an excuse to visit every week seeing as I won’t be so far away.

So yeah… These are the things I’d remember when I think of home and of growing up here. What are the things that remind you of home?

28.11.2013


I watched a man today be vulnerable with his wife. I watched him fidget before he stepped into an office where he probably had a very crucial meeting. I watched him take his wife’s hand in his sweaty one and whisper something in her ear. The look on his face showed that he maybe was scared or worried about what was awaiting him in the next room. He probably told her about his concern.
I watched her clasp her fingers over his sweaty hand. I watched her lean into him and whisper back in his ear, then kiss his cheek. I watched her delicately wipe off the barely noticeable stain her lipstick had left on the cheek. I watched her smile and saw that he smiled back. I watched her squeeze his hand just before he let go and took the final steps to the door. I watched him glance back one last time and wink at her as she blew kisses in his general direction.
I watched a couple be in love today and it felt so good to imagine being in love that way. And even though my story has a lot of ‘maybe(s)’ and ‘probably(s)’, I like what I saw and what I (maybe) imagined it to be.

The In-Between


Life.

There’s the pain and discomfort that comes from wanting and longing for something that seems out of reach. The uncomfortable itch that we feel when we are stuck on a path that doesn’t lead anywhere. The endless nights spent in prayer asking to be moved closer to that which lays on the horizon. The reaching and seeking and calling out and planning and the hustling. There’s that.

Moments.

Then there are the moments of joy, of fulfilment and contentment. The moments, albeit brief, where we are beyond ourselves with excitement at finally striking one thing off the list. The defining moments of reaching another milestone, another goal accomplished. The relief in knowing we have arrived, if only for a moment. The ‘eyes closed as we slowly exhale’ moments. Rest. Nothingness. There’s also that.

Pause.

Then what? Back to the discomfort, and the longing, and wanting all over again. Back to the grind, and the searching, and wistfulness…
Endless circle.

But I find myself in the in-between. I find myself in the moment of gratitude. Of giving praise. Of counting my blessings. Of realising that there is a much bigger Hand upholding me. Between the big and the little things, I find good in this moment. I find myself gazing into the eyes of the One who weaves the beauty through the pain. Who works through the brokenness. I find myself spread out before Him who composes this song that is my life, a high note here, a low note there… But never a flat tone, never off-tune. Never that.

Aha!

Then there’s the eureka moment! I want Him through the process. I want the in-between at both extremes. I want to turn to Him in joy as much as I do in need. In the pain. In the wanting. In the longing. In the arriving. In the contentment. I want to enjoy the build up. And the crescendo.

Counting it all joy…

Praise undefined by my circumstance. Thanksgiving not tied to a list. Or a date. Or a feeling. Joy unaffected by the news. Dancing not regulated by the media. Singing prompted by a knowing (in Whom I believe). And clapping of hands. Shouting and rejoicing. The whoops. The hymns. The choruses.
Unafraid of being happy. Content. Full. Despite ‘evidence’ to the contrary.
I love this in-between. I choose to extend this moment into both ends. The in-between punctuated by those other moments that make life what it is.

Count it ALL joy…

The Little Things


So much has happened in the last seventy-two hours. I’m trying to make a list of things that I’m thankful for and with all the HUGE things that God’s been doing these last couple of days, it’s the little things that make my heart skip. It’s the seemingly inconsequential things that cause me to pause, reflect, and fall to my knees. How can such an awesome God love me??? I still cannot understand it.
I’d be honoured just to be Your servant but I’m overwhelmed that You would call me friend.
How He takes His times to fix the little things for me, making that last minute phone call connect despite crappy network, pausing the rain for a few minutes so I don’t go into the interview with wet hair, giving me just the right words to say, nudging me to send a random message that’s leading to big things… It’s these little things that blow my mind.
My list is full of the little things. My heart is bursting with love for a God who takes His time to show me how much He cares about the smallest details of my life. Why won’t I give my all to Him? Even in the midst of the storm, it’s His telling me to come to Him, to walk on water, to trust Him, that leaves me overwhelmed. Knowing that He can calm the sea, actually begging Him to, but watching Him take my hand and lead me through it, that’s awesome!
My God is always doing wonders. We are often times caught up in our wait for the voice of thunder, that we miss the whisper of His still, small voice.
I know that this post is very random, but tonight I’m just so in love with and in awe of my Abba, I can’t help myself.
I’m thankful.

*Don’t be so preoccupied with trying to fix all the big things that aren’t working, that you forget to see the little expressions of love He shows you everyday!
Have an amazing week. :*

Just Words.


I tried to write today. You know, just another post, answer some other random question, be okay with all the evil in the world, see the future through the tears… I tried to do that.
I wrote 500 words, like the assignment said, ‘500 words or more’. Gbam! There you have it professor, neatly typed. Would you want it bound too? I wrote your 500 words. Yes, your words. I realised after the third read, they weren’t mine. Then I smiled.
I smiled that smile B calls lazy, and N says shows the sadness in my eyes. It’s funny, she never notices the sadness until I smile like that :-)… They are supposed to hide the pain, I tell her. You’re not very good at it, she replies.
I don’t hide my pain very well, do I? V says it’s that way with writers. I laugh whenever she says it. She’s a writer. A fantastic one! So it probably does apply to her. I’m not. I have words that just struggle to come out. Or thoughts. Random thoughts. I can never quite find the words. A few ramblings does not a writer make.
I digress.
I do that a lot. It’s a legitimate form of escapism, I think. Anything to take my mind off the sharp pain in my chest. And the voice in my head screaming, broken! Broken! Broken! Broken! I focus instead on P!nk’s voice. Not broken, just bent.
Na condition make crayfish bend.
Hahaha! I agree. Conditions beyond my control, I like to believe. Conditions that force me to use clichés like, “it’s life”. These things happen. C’est la vie. Moving on…
Where was I?
Ah, yes. Words. My words. I’m trying to find those. Trying to figure out exactly what they are. So I’ll scribble. In the meantime, scribble.
A says it’s gets easier. Maybe not better, but easier. I am earnestly waiting for that. Easy. Easy is good. Easy is safe. Easy is…easy. Until it gets hard. But what do I know about these things? I’m just a rambling insomniac currently craving ice-cream and conversations with a random stranger. My random stranger. Haha! Easy, Kov. These things get messy. Easy. Easy. Easy. New mantra.
But easy is boring. And I’ve endured twenty something years worth of that. Not exactly, but that’s my story. So maybe we won’t do easy. Maybe we’ll take another leap from yet another cliff and maybe this time we will fly. Maybe we will fall into the sea. That’s not terrible either. I could learn to breathe under water. Because you know, that’s what I do. And then I’ll write about it. Or I’ll try to, at least.
Tonight, I just might settle for Perks of Being a Wallflower, smile my lazy smile at more clichés, and take notes.
But these are just words. All 500 of them. There you go, Professor. 500 words not too neatly typed, bound with strings… The same ones tugging at my heart. There you have it. Five hundred words. My words.

06.08.13


Yesterday, there was a renewal of my hope and trust in God’s ability and willingness to act on my behalf and show up in the midst of my desperation.
Yesterday, lost hope was restored somewhere in the pages of Scripture. Hope in God’s faithfulness to keep His promises. Trusting Him to remain true to His word even in spite of my unfaithfulness.
Last night, I slept engulfed in God’s peace and relying on His hand to drive away every doubt and to overwhelm me with His goodness and love.
Today, I woke up with a hint of desperation, my humanity already calculating and devising means to work my way out of this situation.
Today, I felt doubt beginning to rise again, trying desperately to erode my peace and tugging at my heart eager and determined to pull me away from the nail-scarred Hands holding mine.
Yet, I do not despair or lose hope. I hold unto the mustard seed faith, trusting Him in spite of my doubts, holding on regardless of fear, against all odds. He is able and WILLING.
Consider the lilies…
Faithful is He that promised. Faithful.
He will not change His mind. He will not abandon. He will do what He wants to, sovereign God! He will show up because He cares.
And He will take all the glory, no one else. No one compares…
He is kind and merciful, full of love and power, an ever-present help in time of need. A constant source.
I hold on. I cannot lose this. You’re all I need. All I’ve got.

The faithful love of the LORD never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is His faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.
I say to myself, “The LORD is my inheritance; therefore, I will hope in Him!” The LORD is good to those who depend on Him, to those who search for Him.
So it is good to wait quietly for salvation from the LORD.
– Lamentations 3:22-26 (NLT)

*For Tomi Akibo, thank you. (You know why) :*