Yard Girl

Heyyy ! It's been a exactly a month since my last blog post, pretty strange but it feels like months being away from the blog. Pewww! This month placed me in hard situations. A lot of accidents happened to my friends and I this month, which I will tell and retell in forthcoming blog posts. Top of the list is the Covid-19 pandemic, it all first seemed like a sci-fiction movie, like the one where an evil maniac creates a virus to wipe out humanity and we need superheroes like the Avengers to save the world, when I first learnt about the virus, and how everybody has to stay home to prevent the spread of the virus. The movie BIRD BOX played in head. Lol. Unfortunately this is not a movie, this is real, this pandemic has affected the whole world, lives have been lost, people have recovered (which is a reason to celebrate). The economy of different countries have been crippled, and with a country like mine, where we don't exactly have a flourishing economy, things have and are ...

She came as she was, born like every other and treated like every other. Nothing was special as everything seemed ordinary. She had this feeling that it wasn’t all there is, she felt there was more. She felt there should be more behind the mask she had seen everyone wearing. We all looked the same, but she was curious, you wouldn’t blame her right, would you?. All she wanted was to see what was behind the mask. Her mother wore it, her aunties wore it, even those before her. They all appeared comfortable wearing it. So she grew up wearing it too. She was made to believe the mask was part of their identity, that they couldn’t be unmasked. Like it was their birthright. But no! There should be more than meets the eye, so she thought. She went within her soul, seeking and searching for a way out. She had sought to know her real identity. At the ‘semi-woman’ stage, it became more profound, glaring her in the face that there could be a way out after all. She sought to know more ab...

February 14th 2019. Dear Diary, not to be a bother but I really am depressed today. Soji broke up with me last month and as much as I try to bury myself in work and read "moving on" quotes, it hurts, it hurts as hell. Two days later after I unblocked him, I check his profile and see a picture of an annoyingly beautiful lady. I made a  5 minute long voice note but deleted it, next day I see a post from him, a picture of him and 'miss beautiful' with the caption, "One month till forever💜" what was happening? Trying to figure out what was happening made my heart hurt more blocking him on the blue app would be shooting myself in the leg, I still wanted to be in the loop about what was going on with him, a stupid feeling but I still cared about him. Karina described my love for Soji as an unending damnation, I concluded that she could never understand why I loved him, how I loved him because she was the vice president of "God when foundation", l...

Happy New Month. Yes, Yard Girl is still alive, to Jesus be my glory😂 I've got a lot of gist for you. My weekend was awesome, so awesome I did not want it to end, well I began this month with goals in place, great expectations and I was so super hyped about them and set the ball rolling almost immediately, the ball is still rolling and I'm looking forward to positive results. Bing! My muse is back and has given me the inspiration to begin a series for all you lovers #theredmonthseries, where I will be sharing short stories about romantic happily never and ever afters (winks) I am as excited as my avid readers because I don't even know what the first story will be about. Valentine is coming, read my stories, you might catch a glimpse of yourself in between the lines😊.  14th February 2020, our red month begins, the comment section is open for you, tell me what you think one of my characters should be. #Theredmonth🌷 With Love, YardGirl. P.S; School has been ...

CALL YOURSELF A WRITER In a long run, your mindset is going to determine how successful a writer you'd become. Call yourself a writer, put it on your social media bio, when you meet people introduce yourself as a writer, and don't try to be humble about it, because what you do is not easy. Wear the title "Writer" like a crown. It is not showing off, it is staking your claim on a talent bestowed on you. SELL YOUR CREATIVITY TO YOURSELF Before you write, create an idea in your mind, tell yourself the idea, if your mind isn't buying it. Grow your idea, your mind is your creative hub. Resell the idea. Write like your story is Nobel literature standards. When I write, I intend to make myself feel jealous of what I just wrote, I want to sit back and hype myself "girrrl, you wrote this?? Say what!!" KEEP SHOWING UP Writers draw their motivation from different places, at different times my motivation comes from "a muse", a tiny male voice i...

Happy New Year!!! Which is coming  three days late, sorry blog posts aren't made on Wednesdays 😵 It's a new decade, a New Year, and a new month! There's so much I'm thankful for. What are you thankful for? 💜 So it's a New Year, resolutions have been made, we are going to waylay some of these resolutions and some, procrastination might get the better part of. I'm not going to bore you, telling you what and not what to do this year. Here's the vibe; In the New Year's Spirit, here are 10 really amazing quotes that helped me get through last year, and have become my vibe, all day, everyday! And I think you'll love them (My gift to you, thank you very much.😂) 1. On Giving. 2. Normal is overrated! Be different 3. Spread Joy!  4. About Today...  5. YOU  6. First step, baby steps  7. Kill 'em with kindness!  8. Climb mountains! 9. You have grown, you are growing! . ...

When Papa was alive he kept all four of his daughters under his watchful eagle eyes. Of all his daughters, he referred to me as the bomb which was bound to go off at any moment. I was a bit fiesty I wanted to do the things my brothers did for him and even more, wash the car, fix the generator. Chiebuka my older brother would run off to Papa and announce to him that I had once again climbed up the udara tree in front of our compound, papa would run outside scream my name and call mama , immediately I got down from the tree, abuses, blows and slaps were showered on me. My name is Obiageli. I really hated my name even though my friends said my name would attract the right man for me -She who has come to enjoy- I'm sure papa had that in mind when he arranged for Nduka, the secondary school teacher to marry me. Papa was aghast when I said I wouldn't marry Nduka, "Why? he asked, Nduka is successful, he earns good money as a teacher and he is a noble man, what else coul...