Aries Letters

 I need Igbo and Shayoooo! Lol, whatever Burna boy meant I need it too... So before I dive into this piece, I just want to mention that I wrote a really good piece, but somehow it got deleted by accident and now I have to try and give even half as good a piece as the first one... but 1 thing I did was state that this is random, has no direction but will eventually make sense as you go.  It's not a secret I have had quite the year (unless you are a stranger reading this or haven't heard any of the podcast episodes I have dropped this year). This year has taught me patience and a bunch of medical terms I would never know on an average day. But the hardest lesson I have had is how to make a knee brace look stylish, there is a thin line between cute and Optimus Prime. Do you have the slightest idea how hard it is to make a robocop brace look cute-cute? Ala imwe fyalikosa last! lol  When I got injured I really wanted to get my old life back, I wanted to skip to the part where ...

 I am a people person, so making friends has never really been hard for me. I can easily start conversations and probably carry them along for as long as I possibly can. One of my biggest struggles though, is knowing which friends are seasonal, long term and just abena hi- hello.  The oldest friendship I have is 24 years old, we met at church when we were 2 years old then, mothers were friends then we went to the same primary school, in the same class for a little bit (fun fact about this, so one term in grade 1 during mid term exams Natasha passed number 1 and I number 4.. gosh I was so devastated, fast forward to end of term.. I passed number 1 and Natasha was number 4) I have never forgotten that lol... Back to the piece, so our friendship hasn't been a walk in the park, we have had our fair share of ups and downs, we've broken up a couple of times lol but the getting back has always been better and more fulfilling. And the older we grow, we both see so much of the bond our...

 Growing up my dreams were simple, I wanted to be a princess. How hard could it possibly be? All I have to do is wear cute ballroom dresses, live in a castle, smile and greet people and occasionally ride horses. That to me seems like a simple life.  Fast forward to today and in reality, I am 20-something working an actual 9 to 5, while trying to get a degree which in all honesty is giving me so much grief (like why can't you just be as easy as 123) and somewhere in all this, I am expected to live a decent social life and possibly have a stable relationship. In this same one life???? That is not what 5-year-old me thought, because as far as I know, the Prince was bound to find me in a castle. But alas, I do not live in one. This could probably be the reason I am single, instead of being in a castle in some faraway land, I am in Lusaka lol. At 5, my dreams were cute and pure, and life also seemed so much simpler and cooler as from my little girl eyes, iyee imwe kali ka book kama...

I made a very shocking discovery this past week, I AM HUMAN! (Shocking ey). I have been trying so hard to be more than human. Today's piece is a journal entry I felt I need to share, it will probably go onto my next podcast episode but before then, I want you to read about it.  For those that have not been following my year, I fell in January and that was the beginning of a long and agitating journey.  The morning after I fell, I went to my physiotherapist and she immediately sent me to go get an MRI, this was followed by a consultation with an orthopedic surgeon, and well the whole thing was mapped out, from surgery to the healing process, I was told by 6 months, you'll be good to go! If you know me! Ine? I was already planning what summer 22 would be like because the leg will be working. Fast forward to May, my health took an extra deep dive, and surgery was put on hold... Now you need to understand my agitation because we were approaching winter and immediately after winter...

Once upon a time, I hated how I looked. I was this fat, ugly pimple-faced teenager with 2 rabbit teeth and the worst 4C hair you could ever imagine.  My teen years definitely count as some of my toughest years of confidence and self-discovery. My body is naturally on the chubby side, and I looked a bit older than my actual age growing up so that never made it any easier. I was often accused of lying about my age, and the big boobs and early menses made it harder to defend myself, because why are you wearing a B-cup bra in 7th grade??? Fast forward to high school, the dark ages lol kudos to the boys who actually liked me then, y'all are real ones!😂.  One of the most hurtful things I ever heard was people in my class used to call me "Johnny Bravo" behind my back, and anyone who knows that cartoon would attest to the fact that his body structure wasn't the cutest. I sobbed so hard the day I found that out, and that was the beginning of my insecurities. I started looking...

 I remember how cool those words were growing up lol. We've been journaling for a long while, we just didn't call it that. We called it "writing in our diaries". Oh, how I looked forward to writing in mine after every eventful day, good or bad. It felt right to do so, and even better after pouring out.  So here is a quick story about one of my dear diary moments (also known as my first and most embarrassing moment). I was in sixth grade, and I had this huge crush on a guy in grade 10(in my defense he looked like Bow Wow, the old one 😂), we he was an exact replica. Anyway, ifwe we wrote mu diary. I had those tuma diaries that had a lock and key but you could easily open them with a pen or a pin. I never used to leave it at home because I was afraid someone would read it, little did I know the real devils were sixth graders lol. So this one day, 3 girls in my class got my diary out of my bag, opened it, and started reading it. They stumbled upon the parts I wrote about...

 What's keeping you up at night? What's keeping you uneasy? Is it health? finances? relationships? or just what tomorrow holds... You see, I am guilty of having sleepless nights, most nights I wake up in a full-on panic attack because I just don't know what tomorrow looks like for me... I have been injured for a while now, and the longer I go, the more my anxiety builds and my bad days seem longer. I am struggling with living in the now because I am constantly worried about what my doctor will say or what more costs this is bound to incur. I spend most days wondering when it ends, in all this I neglect the good things happening now, like how I am blogging more or baking more and better, or how I wake up every day and have an income.  A lot of my triggers come from comments such as "you're not yet okay", or "you have been injured too long" or the worst of them all "I know a Pastor who can help", I get it sometimes people mean well but its al...