A Father And Dad Are Not The Same:

A father and a dad are not the same:
One can be a dad and not a father,
Or one can be a father and not bother
To earn through love the more endearing name.
Some find fatherhood a bit too tame,
Leaving all the details to the mother,
Or dumping the sweet burden on another
Man with just a passing twinge of shame.
You have been our dad so many years
That you’ve become the landscape that is home,
The mountain that we look to from afar.
No matter where we go we’re not alone,
For you remain within to still our fears
And be the word that tells us who we are

DON’T IN YOUR IGNORANCE KILL YOUR BENEFACTOR.

Photo Credit:Foreword Reviews

 

There was an aged artist who lived in a small village. The man used to design beautiful artistic works to be sold at an attractive price

One day, a poor man among the villagers challenged the old man saying: You earn a lot of money from your handiwork but why don’t you assist indigent people in the village?

Cant you see the butcher who is not as rich as you are, but still shares free meat to the destitute people in the village.
Also, look at the village baker, a poor man with a large family, yet he gives the poor people free loaves of bread.

The artist did not respond angrily to the challenges, rather just smiled .

The poor man was so confused about the reaction of the artist so he left him and went out spreading rumors that the artist was so rich, but he was a stingy person who only accumulated wealth and refused to help less privileged. The entire villagers took vengeance, they broke away from the old artist man and they all forsook him.

In a mean time, the aged artist was sick but nobody among the villagers cared to visit him, therefore he died a lonely man.

The days passed by, the villagers observed that the butcher stopped free distribution of meat and the baker could not give the destitute people free loaves of bread any more, despite their continuous trooping to the bakery and their hope to have something to eat.

When both (the butcher and the baker) were asked the reason behind the sudden cut off of the welfare to the villagers, they said that: ” the elderly artist who used to donate a large sum of money every month to share free meat and loaves of bread to the poor people in the village has died, so the welfare has to stop.”

Actually, many people may have wrong impression about you while others may have different opinions, none of them could benefit nor harm your good intention.

Therefore, don’t pass judgment on any one based on his physical appearance. There are things about his personal life, if you were privileged to know, your judgement would surely be different.

For example, a man died at nightspot/ dance hall.

The other person died in the mosque/Church.

The first person entered the dance hall with intention to preach to them (against indecency)

The second person entered the mosque/Church to steal money or bags.

For this reason, you and I can not decide who enters heaven nor who enters hell-fire. Fear God in privacy and fear God in the open. Human physical appearance is a deception, therefore, forgive, pardon and ignore people’s iniquities. Pray for God’s guidance on erring people. Be good to everybody, don’t cut off your relationship with a person who does not please you. Establish unity and harmony with people, God will love you and people will love you too. The Lord Who created the souls, knows what the souls conceals.

I found this story very insightful and I think I should share

Let Us Protect Our Girls (A Hug)

Photo Credit: Shutterstock

What a wicked world…

A Hug

It’s end of my first day at school… Miss Ugo asks us to hug each other. I don’t like hugs because it is always always painful. I don’t know why we have to hug even in school.

I didn’t want to disobey Miss Ugo and become a bad pupil. So I turned away from the class and began to remove my clothes. After removing my clothes and also my pants, I looked around for a clean space to lie down.

I found a space, laid down and spread my legs wide open. I wondered why everyone is taking time to get ready for “hug”. Someone has to take the lead I guess.

My teacher didn’t look very pleased, judging from her expression… Some of the kids covered their faces. “Poor kids” I thought, still lying on the floor. “They don’t even know what a hug is”, I continued in my head of course.

My teacher is approaching me, she looks angry now. I could tell because her cheeks are red. My mum’s face is usually that red whenever she is washing my body and I tell her my “Bum Bum”(Vagina) is paining me. So my mum will get angry and her cheeks will turn red, sometimes she will cry and “not say anything”.

I don’t want my teacher to cry, so I got up. I’m beginning to get worried because I am still the only person who has no clothes on. I still can’t understand why my whole class does not know what a hug is or how to do it.

Well this once, maybe this once I have to believe my daddy. “This is a special kind of hugs Lucy”, my daddy would say amidst sweats. “It’s only for special girls” he would continue.

Maybe I really am special.

“Here! Put on your clothes and follow me”, Miss Ugo shrieked angrily.

In our proprietress office. I told “Big mummy” (that’s what they told us to call her) and Miss Ugo how my daddy “hugs” me every other night.

They were both in tears as I tell them that, the only part of hugs that I hated the most is when my daddy tries out his fingers one after the other until one fits inside my “bum bum” (Vagina).

It’s already school over and my daddy will be mad if I don’t wait in my class like he had instructed.

Big mummy gives Miss Ugo a look, she picks up her desk phone and dials a number. Miss Ugo takes me outside and puts her arm around me… It felt so good.

“That is a hug” Miss Ugo whispers and breaks down in tears again.

“How can this be a hug? It wasn’t painful, I thought.

My daddy is around and Miss Ugo asks him to see Big mummy. Shortly after, 2 police officers came in and entered big mummy’s office. I can hear myself talk from big mummy’s cell phone. I sounded so funny, I let out a light chuckle.

The police came out of big mummy’s office with my father. His hands were tied behind his back. He looks angry. I knew I am in trouble.

We didn’t go home. We went to the hospital in big mummy’s car. Miss Ugo was beside me the whole time until the Doctor asks me to follow him. He removes my pant, collects torchlight from the nurse and looks into my “bum bum” (Vagina). I closed my eyes expecting pains but he didn’t put his fingers inside. He puts off the light and talks to the nurse who jots down what he said. He helps me wear my pant and takes me back to meet big mummy and miss Ugo.

Back in Big Mummy’s car, Miss Ugo calls out our address for Big mummy.

We got to my house and my mum came out. She didn’t say anything as usual. She just brought out a big placard that reads “I AM DEAF and ALSO DUMB”.

Big mummy and Miss Ugo started crying again. I have had enough already, so I joined them to cry and my mum followed suit.

Another holiday is here again, let’s protect our girl child from the hands of the evil abusers, don’t leave your child in the care of anybody you can’t trust them with. Pay attention to them anytime you leave them alone for long. Take notice to discover those places they complain they are having pains and find out why they are having those pains.

#Mums #Parents #kids #Holiday #TrendyMum

Child Bride

 

Photo credit. unfpa.org

Under age marriage.

Talking about underage marriage, in Africa we are the center of underage marriage in the world.

I am from Nigeria and I live in the North Western Nigeria (am from the North Eastern part of Nigeria), and the North West is where underage marriage is mostly practice.

I stay in Sokoto where underage marriage is a norm and not seen as bad, Sokoto have a very high cases of women living with Vesicular Virginal Fistula (VVF).

Underage marriage is a marriage between one of the two (or both) person involve in the marriage contract or agreements. I am looking at underage marriage not in the context of birth age (18 being legal or official), but looking at the persons as not being matured physiologically. Mentally, physically, and emotionally not being matured is also tagged as being underage. The girl child are mostly the most affected by this.

I am writing about underage marriage, I was in a village in Sokoto for a research work, and my guide a young boy of about 9 – 11 years of age said a statement that almost brought tears to my eyes.

Faruku and his friend saw a small girl passing by and his friend said “har anyi ma yarinya nan wanka” which means this in English “This girl has already been married off”. Then Faruku said they are just suffering this girl, they went ahead to talked about other young girls who are even in their matrimonial homes.

These young boys feel bad about the underage marriage, what saddens me was a young man who was with us and he sees nothing wrong with the girls being married off ag that young age, he is even trying to defend the practice and fault those you boys and being boys and don’t know anything yet. During this discussion a lot was going on in my mind and here are a few of them.

1. How do these young boys know that these girls are too young for marriage?
2. How come this young man don’t see the evil of this practice?
3. Are these young boys truly too young to know what is marriage?
4. Will they still hold on to this believe as they grow up as underage marriage is bad?
5. How come the people of this community welcome such a practice?

As I finished my work and headed back home I was just disturbed in my spirit and I remember when I visit Maryam Abatcha Women and Children Hospital Sokoto, I saw so many women young girls most of them about 13 – 15 years of age suffering from VVF. I begin to wonder how did they get to this state and what is the solution?

I think more awareness and enlightenment and sex/reproductive health education has to be intensify to get everyone aware and enlighten. Leaders and elders of the communities need to be involve in this awareness campaign.

I pray there will be more voices who will  rise up and speak about this.

WHY WOMEN ARE SO SPECIAL . . . . . . (Tribute To My Mother)

This is a dedication to my mother, it’s a combination of what most mothers pass through and do everyday just to keep the home running. I have never remember when I don’t have what I need, she is always up early and sleep late. Here is a short story and is a combination of what most mothers pass through.

Mom and Dad were watching TV when Mom said, “I’m tired, and it’s getting late. I think I’ll go to bed.”

She went to the kitchen to make sandwiches for the next days. Rinsed out the popcorn bowls, took meat out of the freezer for supper the following evening, checked the cereal box levels, filled the sugar container, put spoons and bowls on the table and started the coffee pot for brewing the next morning.

She then put some wet clothes in the dryer, put a load of clothes into the washer, ironed a shirt and secured a loose button.

She picked up the game pieces left on the table, put the phone back on the charger and put the telephone book into the drawer.

She watered the plants, emptied a wastebasket and hung up a towel to dry. She yawned and stretched and headed for the bedroom.

She stopped by the desk and wrote a note to the teacher, counted out some cash for the excursion and pulled a text book out from hiding under the chair. She signed a birthday card for a friend, addressed and stamped the envelope and wrote a quick list for the groceries. She put both near her bag. Mum then washed her face with 3 in 1 cleanser, put on her Night Solution & age fighting moisturizer, brushed and flossed her teeth and filed her nails.

Dad called out, “I thought you were going to bed.”

“I’m on my way,” she said. She put some water into the dog’s dish and put the cat outside, then made sure the doors were locked and the patio light was on. She looked in on each of the kids and turned out their bedside lamps and radios, hung up a shirt, threw some dirty socks into the hamper, and had a brief conversation with one of the kids who was still up doing homework.

In her own room, mom set the alarm; laid out clothing for the next day, straightened up the shoe rack. She added 3 things to her 6-most-important-things-to-do list. She said her prayers, and visualized the accomplishment of her goals. About that time, Dad turned off the TV and announced to no one in particular. “I’m going to bed.” And he did…without another thought. Yet she wakes up early in the morning to set breakfast and wake the children and make them ready for school and she herself get ready for work, go to work and go back home to repeat the above circle.

Anything extraordinary here? Wonder why women live longer…? ‘CAUSE THEY ARE MADE FOR THE LONG HAUL……. and they can’t die sooner, they still have things to do!!! (my mother live longer than my father {missing them both})

You are a phenomenal women…….God Bless ALL WOMEN!

Majority And Minority

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An interesting insight into decision making

A group of children were playing near two railway tracks, one still in use while the other disused. Only one child played on the disused track, the rest on the operational track.

The train is coming, and you are just beside the track interchange. You can make the train change its course to the disused track and save most of the kids. However, that would also mean the lone child playing by the disused track would be sacrificed. Or would you rather let the train go its way?

Let’s take a pause to think what kind of decision we could make…

Most people might choose to divert the course of the train, and sacrifice only one child. You might think the same way, I guess. Exactly, I thought the same way initially because to save most of the children at the expense of only one child was rational decision most people would make, morally and emotionally. But, have you ever thought that the child choosing to play on the disused track had in fact made the right decision to play at a safe place?

Nevertheless, he had to be sacrificed because of his ignorant friends who chose to play where the danger was. This kind of dilemma happens around us everyday. In the office, community, in politics and especially in a democratic society, the minority is often sacrificed for the interest of the majority, no matter how foolish or ignorant the majority are, and how farsighted and knowledgeable the minority are. The child who chose not to play with the rest on the operational track was sidelined. And in the case he was sacrificed, no one would shed a tear for him.

The great critic Leo Velski Julian who told the story said he would not try to change the course of the train because he believed that the kids playing on the operational track should have known very well that track was still in use, and that they should have run away if they heard the train’s sirens. If the train was diverted, that lone child would definitely die because he never thought the train could come over to that track! Moreover, that track was not in use probably because it was not safe. If the train was diverted to the track, we could put the lives of all passengers on board at stake! And in your attempt to save a few kids by sacrificing one child, you might end up sacrificing hundreds of people to save these few ignorant kids.

While we are all aware that life is full of tough decisions that need to be made, we may not realize that hasty decisions may not always be the right one.

“Remember that what’s right isn’t always popular and what’s popular isn’t always right.”

Everybody makes mistakes; that’s why they put erasers on pencils.

Credit: Madam Sabi

Be Polite

Please enjoy this little story I got from a friend:
“When I was a kid, Mum liked to make food for dinner & I remember one night in particular when she had made dinner after a long, hard day at work.

On that evening, Mum placed a plate of bread, jam and extremely burned biscuits in front of my dad.

I remember waiting to see if anyone noticed! Yet, all my dad did was reach for his biscuit, smiled at my Mum and asked me how my day was at school.

I don’t remember what I told him that night, but I do remember hearing my Mum apologize to my dad for burning the biscuits.

And I’ll never forget what he said: “Honey, I love burned biscuits.”

Later that night, I went to kiss Daddy good night and I asked him if he really liked his biscuits burned. He wrapped me in his arms and said, “Your mum had a long hard day at work today and she’s really tired. And besides… A burnt biscuit never hurt anyone but harsh words do!”

You know, life is full of imperfect things…and imperfect people. I’m not the best. What I’ve learned over the years is that learning to accept each others faults and choosing to celebrate each others differences, is one of the most important keys to creating a healthy, growing and lasting relationship.

So…please pass me a biscuit. And yes, the burnt one will do just fine!

And please pass this along to someone who has enriched your life…I just did!

Life is too short to wake up with regrets…

Love the people who treat you right and have compassion for the ones who don’t.

ENJOY LIFE NOW – IT HAS AN EXPIRY DATE”

writen by Ibrahim Gana Malgwi