MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY

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Do you know that feeling when you are hurt so much and you just want to cry! I mean you want to let thousands of droplets of tears out of your swollen eyes, but you wouldn’t be able to because you have no single tears left in there.
That time when you could feel the blood in your heart dripping like the remnant of rain on the zinc, after a long downpour that continuously drips down on the earth; and the chest up to your upper abdomen hurts so much as though someone is in there frying some delicacies.
Or that time when your heart beats violently against your chest or breast making a tapping sound as though your chest were a window pan that got controlled over by a heavy wind.

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This is what happen when I buried those moments beneath that no penetrable part of my being, and let them eat me dry and hurt me alone. Mahatma Gandhi said “no one can hurt us except by our permission” don’t you think it applies to only a few persons?
This few years of mine, I have spent my miserable life like an object among humans. I don’t know what joy and happiness look like; I have become a human without any other feelings aside pain and sorrow.
Everyone complain about how cold I have become, how uninteresting my life had turned into. No one really cares to ask how I landed into this and how I will get out of it.
Each time people are gathered in their multitude rejoicing, there is this ache, a terrible one that burn down through my heart and rendered me helpless. At times I wish I could cry but it was impossible since my soul had become like become a desert deserted by rain for years, no tears would flow. This pain and sorrow, and its story is a long one that I wouldn’t be able to narrate today, for today is a day of lamentation – even though am not sure of tomorrow am pretty sure for tomorrow, my story will narrate itself.       



My parents and immediate family were very angry when I first became engage to Nuhu. Grandpa was the main engine behind their opposition. They all believe because Nuhu was blind, he will be so dependent on me couple with his poor background and blindness. Despite all these, we married months later. 

My parent and immediate family were all prevent from attending the wedding ceremony by grandpa. However, things work as planned. Grandpa told me something I never understood then. His words were “he who swallows a pestle must be ready to sleep while standing”.
Is spite of all their opposition we got married few months after; Nuhu quickly got used to finding his ways around our new home – he had trained himself by working with heart instead of the eyes.
Almost a year and half later, after all my toiling for the betterment of the house, Nuhu and I went to an eye specialist hospital where it was confirm he could see again. Nuhu was wheeled in for necessary check up. 
Nuhu had good news to tell me. He said the operation was going to be successful. I was happy that my love is going to regain his sight. He also said after the operation he would see how beautiful I was. I wasn’t beautiful. Couple with my dowdy appearance, my pot belly, and short height.
The operation was scheduled at nine on Thursday morning. The surgeon had strictly warned me not to come to the hospital before noon that day. The waiting was hell! Seconds became minutes and minutes became hours. When it was exactly one, I got dressed and went straight to the hospital. The surgery was a success, the doctor said. I went to the clinic twice a day to see him. He was bubbling with energy and enthusiastic.
A week later, I woke up with migraine. I look at myself in the mirror and tears began to drop down my eyes. Finally, I wore a t-shirt and a long skirt, with my short hijab to match.

I walked slowly along the corridor to my husband room. I stood at the door for a moment with my heart pounding. I slowly opened the door and went inside. He was sitting up on the bed. He looked at me as I raised my eyes, for a moment, neither of us spoke. “You’re beautiful”, he said.
Tear roll down my eyes as I was so shameful of myself. He looked at me, and for some moments neither of us spoke. I knew there was love in his eyes, and I went into his outstretched hands. It was glaring he was in love with me.

Truly love is blind.



Today I want to write on something very delicate, something I know one day I will surely account for. But what can I do? I am just a helpless soul seeking for answers. 

For those who may end up misunderstanding this after reading it, I want to make it clear that I am a full believer of God in all ramifications. Both the body and soul of mine is devoted to the service of God.

That aside, recently the way I see the world makes me think I am either losing or might lose soon. I don’t know what kind of game it is but I’m pretty sure it is a game.

You know if you are a devoted Muslim, Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, or any faith, you must have been briefed on all rulings concerning your dealings in life. Rules like no drinking, no sex before marriage, no smoking and other form of social, moral and religious vices.

Without dawdling, let me go straight to the point; I am just a poor young man looking for answers, and I will be wrong to say God has betrayed me. In short it is blasphemy to say such a thing as a believer because He, God plans better than all of us and that’s what we believe.

A poor little thing as I am, who does not smoke, drink nor womanize, I mean I don’t partake in all those moral vices maybe because of the fear of eternal punishment from God and that fear has no doubt trapped me in the thoughts of whether I am deceiving myself or someone else is!

At times I would sit under the tree at the back of my house and the thoughts that would make me think of myself as either a saint or something of the likes would run riot through my head. Who would blame? You? or someone somewhere?  I don’t think someone would.

I have no achievement, no money, no fames yet those rules I follows says it was the way to attaining the fame, wealth and achievements.

I know and I have few friends who drinks, smoke and who can not stay a day without sleeping with different girls. He does everything and doesn’t care about rules. In spite of all these, He is famous, rich, and enjoying a flamboyant life that I do not have.  He does not care about these rules that I have imprisoned myself with and everything is moving smooth for him.

This makes me helpless and I begin to ask myself “what if we are wrong” I mean what if I am wrong? What if one dies tomorrow and finds out there isn’t God at all and that everything was man made? Does it mean such person like me has lost?

Ok let’s look at it the other way; what if one die tomorrow and there is that God? By then it will be too late for such person like my friend who doesn’t care about His existence.

“it is better to live and believe there is God and die and find out there isn’t than to live believing there isn’t a God only to find out there is after death’’.

This is so because we need to ask ourselves the question “what if I am wrong?”  A good business man should take a risk that has little or no risk at all and believe you me; there isn’t a business worth transacting like the business of life. 



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