Wendy's Diary

I had always been a quiet girl. Or maybe the better word was timid. Not soft. Not gentle. Not reserved by choice. Timid. I was afraid to be fully myself—especially around people. Afraid to express how I truly felt. Afraid to speak up when I was offended. Afraid to say, “That hurt me.” Afraid to say, “I disagree.” Instead, I would retreat inward. When something upset me, I wouldn’t confront it. I would analyze it — overanalyze it — in my head. I would replay conversations. Reconstruct tone. Debate both sides. Become the prosecutor, the defender, and the judge. And after all that silent courtroom drama, I would do either of the following: Wear a smile. Or wear a frown. Depending on the verdict I had reached in my mind. But here’s the truth: Nothing was ever actually resolved. The other person never knew. The issue was never addressed. The boundary was never drawn. And slowly, something dangerous began to happen. I began to shrink. Because every time you silence yourself, you teach ...

It was supposed to be temporary. That’s how it always starts, right? “Just for now.” “Until something better comes.” “Let me manage this for the time being.” I told myself that when I accepted the job. It wasn’t my dream. It wasn’t even on my vision board. I had visited a friend there a few times and silently decided, “Nice… but not for me.” But life doesn’t always consult your preferences. So I stepped in. Calm. Rational. Temporary. One year passed. Then another. And before I could fully process it, eight years had gone by. Somewhere between endurance and survival, “just for now” quietly became my normal. Until I became restless. And that restlessness? It wasn’t noise. It was a signal. The Moment I Knew I Was Done After a particularly painful experience, I submitted my resignation in March. Senior management intervened. Questions were asked. Adjustments were made. Quick fixes were implemented. But here’s what I learned: you can repair a situation without repairing a ...

A Tribute to Bright George “Draw your friends close, but draw your enemies closer.” We say it like a cliché. Until life forces us to understand it. I knew you for less than a year — yet it felt fuller than some decade-long friendships. Every memory begins the same way. “Sugaaaar…” The tone. The smile. The softness in your voice. You called everyone that, but somehow it always felt personal. Intentional. Warm. We are still trying to process the painful details surrounding your gruesome murder. Still trying to understand how a heart can smile in your presence and still plot in your absence. Still trying to reconcile how people we once called acquaintances — people we extended kindness to — can allow envy, greed, or hatred to ferment quietly within them. The earth lost a man. Heaven gained a soul. No human being can create even a strand of hair. Yet someone assumed the authority to end a life. That contradiction alone is unbearable. I choose to believe that nothing escapes G...

A Tribute to My Aunt They say it is Good Friday. The day Jesus died. The day sorrow met sacrifice. The day heaven went silent before resurrection broke the grave. We rejoice because He rose on the third day. But this year, I found myself standing somewhere else. Between Good Friday… and goodbye. While the world remembered the cross, I was grieving my own loss. Yes, Jesus rose in three days. Yes, resurrection is our hope. Yes, death is not the end. But the resurrection I now wait for is not in three days’ time. It is a promise for eternity. And eternity feels far when your heart is breaking. Allow me to shed these tears. Allow me to sob without being told to “be strong.” Allow me to mourn without being hurried into celebration. Because grief has its own calendar. Memories are coming in flashes — moments I cannot fully articulate. I called on Mother’s Day, but I couldn’t reach you. I had a strange feeling. I had plans to rush home and see you. I prayed for you ...

I read this somewhere ;' the worst feeling is not being forgotten, but being forgotten by someone you will never forget' yes, it is true . oh! how sad it is to think you mean the world to someone whom you do not even exist in their mind let alone their world .  In your head , you have  found a friend who doesn't even consider you an acquaintance .You  tell everyone who cares to listen that you have found 'LOVE'. BBM status changed, whatsapp display picture changed ,on twitter, instagram and all social networks you are on you become the trending love doctor cum relationship expert. And to everyone around , mother luck has finally smiled on you! with each day, all kinds of advise flow in on how it is a womans duty to build a home  and how patience is the bedrock for any successful relationship and how endurance must be a the accompanying virtue to patience .  The first quarrel and argument and you still say to yourself 'this must work' even thoug...

We were warned. Emails. Broadcasts. Flyers. “Store water.” Some people prepared. Some overprepared. Some ignored it. I ignored it. Until I got home from the salon, itchy from stubborn strands of hair, already planning a long, satisfying bath. I turned the tap. Nothing. No drip. No warning sound. Just silence. And in that silence, reality spoke loudly: We are dangerously comfortable with what we think is permanent. By noon, it was official—state of emergency. By evening, status had evaporated. Executives carried buckets. Bosses stood in queues. People who never lifted anything heavier than ego were now balancing jerrycans on their heads. Class disappeared. Water does not recognize titles. Scarcity does not respect hierarchy. Need humbles everyone. And then came the irony. The same villagers who once fetched water from us… were now the ones we went to. Power shifted. There was no VIP access. No protocol. No preferential treatment. First come. First serve. H...

It's been ringing in my head since sunday; that song by the dynamites#akpo aza .THat song brings back memories and also reminds me of God's faithfulness .while listening to it ,I was smiling and even nodding my head and a colleague asked "what could be soo interesting?". She may not understand but I know how that song was an anthem for my aunt ,how she sang it and cried ,how she will say" chi,you are leaving ,who will stay with me now?you know I have no child." That wasn't a funny or interesting period but our human eyes couldn't visualise what God had in stock and naive me kept wondering why she seemed to like crying but I later understood her pain and we told God to make her stop crying especially on Sundays.yes, she cried more on Sunday and her reason was that she Will go to God's house and see him bless others evident in their testimonies yet,she wasn't partaking of the blessings. Today,she's a proud mother of two sets of twins (two...