If there’s something I love about #30DaysOfHope, it’s the beauty of the privilege of being let in. Being allowed a glimpse behind the facade. Especially when it’s in the case of someone who is your friend and you realize that you’d gotten so used to the facade, you don’t recognise what is behind it and that you could do much better. It’s like a second chance. Chiggy gives me a second chance here…
My name is Chiagozie. Friends call me Chiggy. Family and friends that have become family call me Chiagozie or a derivative. Agozie. Gozie. Chiago. Chi-Chi. *Shrug*
There was no angelic choir ministration (at least none that I or my family know of) at my birth at the National Teaching Hospital. But my relatives rubbed white talc powder and the women danced around in small groups to shrieks of “eh eh eh……eeeeeeehhhhhh”. I’m Nigerian of Igbo descent. It’s what we do. Caesarean birth. Regular childhood or not. It’s arguable. Bad university days. Not arguable.
Fast forward to 2013.
The very year.
In keeping with my ‘going-against-the-status quo’ nature, I didn’t start the year in a church building. Oh I’m Christian by the way. Instead I snoozed into the year on my friend’s bed in cold Kaduna, all ‘duveted’ up. It was another January 1. I’ve seen over two decades of it. I couldn’t be bothered. No resolutions. No goals written out. Just bits and pieces in my head of what I wanted to do.
Year kicked off quickly with mad ass pain. Paralysing pain. That lingered for months. Nothing in my past had prepared me for what I was experiencing and see ba, I have a high pain threshold.
Yo peeps, DEPRESSION is real.
Then one arm of my business went really awry. Cue in; more pain. I couldn’t deal. The mistakes started. Things I would not do half drunk, I did with clear eyes. ‘Friendships’, doors that should not have opened, opened and in came crazy. Sorry not came, POURED. My weight dropped in two dress sizes. To me, it was a mess. I must have looked pretty put together on the outside…facade.
After an encounter at the end of September, I had had enough iskanchi. Sic? (Hausa word for nonsense). I assessed my year, it came up short. Assessed my friendships, I almost puked. Assessed where I was on my way to the big picture and I hadn’t contributed any meaningful step in that direction. Hadn’t finished a whole book throughout the year and ‘ember months were here already. I so wept that Wednesday. But by the following morning, I knew I had to deal. Deal or die dealing. I decided I was going to live. L.I.V.E. really start living. I hadn’t been living. First came the cutting off of distractions starting with their birth mother, Twitter. Then the heart wrenching outcry to God for help.
Let’s just say that, that decision called up ‘swept-under-the-carpet-for-years’ issues that brought me to my highest point of vulnerability. I sweated, hyperventilated, thought I was going to drop dead at any point from the weight but I stayed on it and DEALT.
People and their opinions became 4th place after God’s; mine; my family and 4th place is indeed faaaaaaaaaar, in my books.
The tears of relief and release, that type only Abba brings flowed. I forgave the ones I hadn’t forgiven. Plugged my energy leak points. Opened my heart to love. No, I hadn’t been receiving love well. I had been on the defence for so long that acts of love by people that really loved me went unnoticed and to some, I had told them to their faces that they didn’t love me. I apologize. Then all of a sudden, I noticed the sun for the very first time. It was really bright. I noticed how wide my smile was. One smile and eyes will close. I started to feel. I noticed my curves. I became a woman. Before now, I was Chiggy the tomboy. Words can’t do this experience justice. It’s beautiful. Simply euphoric. Like walking on air all the time. Clear headedness. Sound mind. New life is being forged. I love it!
Fast forward to 2014.
It’s the morning of January 2, a call woke me up.
‘Bayo has gone to be with Jesus and I didn’t want you hearing it from someone else, Yinka said’.
Words I will never forget. The next five days went by in a blur. I am back from burying Bayo. My Bayo. Full of life. Fashionista. Fellow entrepreneur. Life of any gathering. 29 years old. Somebody’s first son. My brother and friend. He was loyal. DELIBERATE.
So you see all that euphoric joy 2013 ended with, in 2014, please I am alive and here to double it.
Thank you Adebayo Adesesan for reinforcing this life’s essence for me. I will never forget.
Fulfilling purpose every step of the way.
My life right now, the one I have chosen to live will call into operation my highest powers of perception, responsibility, attention, sacrifice and inner reserves of strength and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
My life is no longer ordinary. Now? Angels recognize. At the end of this journey, they’ll line up for ‘ussies’ at the gate. A worthy daughter and gallant soldier is home. As for humans, they’ll eventually catch up. So help me God.
I’ll learn to dance.
I’ll pick up swimming again.
I’ll become more and more sensual. It’s my right as a female. *stare down* Ehen….
I’ll receive love. And respond with same intensity.
I’ll learn to speak Hausa perfectly.
I’ll see West Africa and its glory.
I’ll write more.
I’ll volunteer at that rape centre I read about.
I’ll tone this Abs so the lucky one can pick beans on it.
Of course I am almost finishing my first book of the year.
Amongst other things… 😉
I have this on my wall as a daily reminder of my chosen life.
Welcome to my 2014.