THE HOST

Ohla Bee.

Eku ojo meta!

The tide of life has swept me off and away from my blog. We believe April holds great things for us. Amen!

La bambina has been growing so fast, I have to go to my pictures to catch a glimpse of the baby who used to be really quiet. We are so active now and we even cut a tooth recently!

Oh! And we eat up a storm! 

Yayyyyy!!

Ever taken a break from everything to just think of the concept of just being?

Just breathe.

Looking around you past the stream of humans hurrying along to see the expressions on their faces, or the baby cooing at her mom or the tired looks of the drivers beside you?

Because we take a whole lot for granted and forget that we are here now and could be gone in the next second.

As a child, the first time I was exposed to the concept of the end, to death was probably when I was 4. A neighbor upstairs had just given birth to a baby. Everyone was all happy the day she packed her things to go to the hospital and we all couldn't wait to see the new addition.

I must have forgotten about it till the adults around started acting all hush hush. As a child, you understand the beginnings of a happening when you notice they are all trying not to catch your eyes and attention. This is usually the period they start speaking your local dialect , asking you to go play outside more often or simply just giving in to your requests faster than you can ask.

So you must understand how easy it was for the children to figure out that something major had taken place.

The mood changed. Everyone wore somber looks and at intervals you'd hear someone wailing. Like the type from the movie, ' The Children of the Rain Forest.'

When I asked my mom where the baby was after days of not seeing anyone wash /dry baby clothes on the new rack, she mumbled something incoherent and asked me to go play. I never asked again.

Now that I look back on it, it's really sad. All the pain of carrying another human within you and then losing the baby. 

People, Postpartum depression is real.

The new mom faded before our eyes. She used to be really jovial, yet shy and all the children around loved her( if memory serves me well). But after the incident, she completely withdrew into her shell. 

Fast forward a couple of months later, she had another baby, Kome. 

Oghenekome.

He was chubby and cute and fresh. Well- oiled skin like I could just touch my sweet potato to his skin and the sheen there would be enough ihe ndhori.

As expected, his mom guarded this one that had come to stay with all she had. We weren't allowed to play unnecessary i-playkuplay with him. Touching his robust cheeks was as far as it went and even that one gan! Needless to say the mom was back to her very jovial self in no time, though she'd have moments when one'd see her staring aimlessly into space.

I've always wondered why the practice after a newborn comes is one that shows more concern for the baby than the mom. Everyone is quick to ask how the baby is doing. I understand now, that because of their fragile nature and inability to communicate, it's very easy to lose sight of the mom and her well being. I guess this is where strong support systems come in.

You can't be everything, everywhere. Do everything, everywhere.

As a human, you owe it to God to take care of yourself. Your being in its entirety (body, soul, mind, all there is to you).

Just as you wouldn't 'feed' a plant gasoline, also feed your being the best possible.

On a lighter note, it is Kaka and Momie Emma's birthday today! Yayyyyyy!!!!!

Happy Birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Loads of hugs!

Cee.