Loving You

i-love-myself-417267_960_720I fell in love with reading novels as early as when I was 9 or 10 years of age, I remember vividly that my teacher gifted me with ”Mother’s Choice” as my 10th year birthday gift. I transitioned from reading regular literature books to romance novels in no time and I got addicted to novels so easily. As a teenager, I didn’t have the opportunity to be guided by an older person, but my thoughts on relationships, love issues were mostly based on fiction. The make believes stories were so real, that I could build a castle in the air with my picturesque imagination that never fails to run wild. I just was clouded by this crazy things I read that I thought that was what Love truly is. How I believed in love! It’s funny how opposite I feel these days, I practically don’t have a space in my heart for long-term feelings, it eludes me like water slipping through ones finger.  My independence is so enjoyable, that I wouldn’t trade it for anything in this world. I have grown to love myself better than I used to. Gone were the days when I would give my body to pleasure another person, not minding me not getting pleasure in return. How gullible I was.

I write to you who feels you can not be all that you want to be all by yourself, I write to you who feels lonely or alone, I write to you who is yearning for companionship where it won’t be found. I tell you that: All that you desire is right there inside of you, all you need do is to search  deeply and you will find it. No one , Nobody, can love you like yourself aside the Supreme being who created you. You must first learn to love and cherish yourself before somebody else would.

I hope I have been able to inspire you with these few words of mine.

It’s your sister and friend, mom exceptional.


She Looks like Him

I just saw a picture of MonaLisa Chinda with  her daughter on Instagram, and I marvel at the striking resemblance between the mother and daughter.  I can bet that each time she looks at her daughter, it gives her so much joy and pleasure.

It’s one thing  to be a single mom, having to raise your child all by yourself and another; to deal with the replica/spitting image of the child’s father everyday. It’s like adding salt to injury. Because, the father who has never been there and has no intention of being there for the child you both brought into this world, is whom our child resembles, Isn’t that annoying?

I have said this plenty of times, that: “it’s  hard being a single mom” yes it’s  hard.  You have lots of things to deal with,to now top it off with looking at my child everyday, whose looks speaks volumes of/about her father. The question is: Do I like my daughter? Of course I love my daughter,  nothing can take her place in my life, after God of course, but I hate that she resembles her dad in the physical. I just hate that! But, there’s nothing I can do about it, I just have to deal with it. Everytime I come across  a mother, especially a single mom whose child looks like her, I do not hesistate to show my excitement. After all , it’s the mother who deals with 99% of the issues everyday, right from the pregnancy period. So why can’t the child look like the mother?

If you are a solo mom, single mom, exceptional mom and your child looks like you, you are very lucky. For those of us, whom our child/children looks nothing like us, but everything like their father, well…we will take joy in the fact that our children  are with us, we get to celebrate every milestones of their lives with them, we get double doses of kisses, hugs,…e.t.c.

  • May our children forever be a source of joy to us.Screenshot_2017-10-04-19-00-00


Getting something to write, comes from me being emotional. It comes most of the time when I am emotionally high( pardon my grammar). Today, I just want to write about how tasking it is to wait..

WAIT- WAITING- This period happens a lot of times in one’s life. You could be waiting for a result of an examination, you could be waiting for the arrival of your lover/spouse, you could be waiting for your ride at the station, you could be waiting for a parcel to get delivered, it could even be a delayed delivery of your child…waiting varies.

From experience,I can say that: waiting could be frustrating, waiting on/for something could kill you, one could go crazy while waiting. Because you do not know when what/that thing you are waiting for/on or expecting will come. But; if one now kills oneself while waiting for something; who will then get the package? I am writing this not just to encourage you, but also to encourage myself. Waiting is hard, yes. Keeping or maintaining a sane or calm attitude (front,facade) while waiting could be hard or difficult. Better still, let’s call a spade a spade. Truth be told; WAITING IS HARD.. What we should reckon with is that: WAITING is inevitable , there will always be a waiting period in our lives. Life is a journey, life is a process, getting the things we want or desire in life takes time, because it must follow a due process. It’s like wanting to have a baby. You first need to have sex-get pregnant-carry the pregnancy-then delivery. For some people, they would have to try and try before they would get pregnant. Child delivery sometimes takes longer than expected; some babies chose not come on their Expected date of delivery (EDD) What then do we do? We just have to WAIT.

I pray that WAIT-ING won’t be unbearable for us, and even if it seems unbearable, may God give us the forbearance to scale through. Trying to maintain a calm facade while waiting is hard, but sometimes it is needed. Because if we allow frustration to take over, we won’t be helping matters.

In conclusion; Keep calm while waiting, waiting is inevitable.



“Imagine how far we could go if we all banded together and worked hard for the love of one another.” Cynthia Erivo.

I saw this quote in a magazine and it resonates with me.

The quote speaks about what I think about everyday. I have experienced hate from women like me, (not that I have not experienced love from women).and I know for sure that I am not the only black woman who has experienced dislike or pure hatred from a fellow black woman. I cannot say if hatred is rooted in our DNA from inception. It is even sadder because it’s common  among-st black women.

I see no reason for us not be supportive of one another, love one another help one another; instead of showing distaste, envy, hate, bad blood, speaking ill about other women like us. There are a number of older black women on social media, who does nothing other than verbal abusing one another via video blogs. They have gathered enough audiences who in turn drop nasty comments in support of whomever they are rooting for.  Hardly would you see a woman compliment another woman…when a simple “you are beautiful” “you look nice” could go a long way in making that woman feel better. What we feel by not complimenting other women, I know not.

We just don’t want people to feel good, we simply feel, the other woman would have a swollen head,by simply saying something nice to her. It is important to point out that; women who finds it hard to confide in other women when they are being abused in their relationships, is because of the “hate vibes”  most women exude, plus the fear of what people will say.

On a brighter side, there are women (Maybe younger) who are breaking the norm  by putting an end to the “hate syndrome” in the hearts of black women.  They support, render help,show love and also have each others’ back. Kudos to these kind of women. I implore us today, to tell a woman, we know or meet; how beautiful she is.

A word of encouragement from you could go a long way. Plenty of women are battling with issues that are unimaginable, you never can tell when that nice word from you will make a difference.

Let’s make a difference.


Waiting …

I was at the bus-stop today, waiting for a bus that was supposed to arrive at 4.37. I got to the bus stop like twenty minutes before the scheduled time of arrival. So, I sat down to wait, it was while waiting that I composed the poem,that I will be attaching with my post of the day…

After waiting for like 10 minutes, even beyond the scheduled time, I decided to walk to another bus-stop that was farther down, but I know buses do pass bye that bus-stop more than the bus-stop I stayed . I had to walked up to 20 feet, I saw the bus that I was waiting for, drive pass me. Off course it won’t wait by the road side, cos I was not at the bus-stop.I wish I had waited a little bit longer.

I learnt my lesson.

The moral of my experience today is; it pays to wait. there will always be seasons in our lives that we would need to take a deep breath and relax during those seasons, because no matter how hard we try, we  just must wait for the season to pass. If we do not pass through that period, or we hurriedly jump ahead; we sure will miss what that season of waiting had in stock/store  for us.

In conclusion, I want to implore us, to savor our waiting season.

Till I come your way again, it’s MumExceptional. Sometimes you just have to wait.Waiting ,one of life's process.Waiting, a hurdle you must cross,Waiting will not take forever.Yes, it could seem like a delay,Yes, it could seem like a de

That Moment

Hello, How are you doing? It’s been a while, I bet you have gotten used to my erratic mode of writing my posts. I do not write, when I do not feel led, rather when my creative juices are not flowing. I hope you would understand me. A lot of times, I want to write; but there’s nothing to write about, and of course you should know that each tie I write, it comes from straight from my heart. I have been putting this post together in my mind since yesterday, when I saw some pictures I will be sharing with you on today’s post via Instagram. I must say that: I have a rough sketch of this post somewhere in my old wallet, that I carried about for a long time, and it would make 9 years I have had it written down. The pictures piqued my subconsciousness and I knew it was time to write about “That Moment”

IMG-20170419-WA0004 This was the picture that did it, it touched me and took me down memory lane.

I had been in labor for hours, and I didn’t give birth till around past four pm. Because I got to the hospital around 6.am that day. let me save you the gist of how my delivery labor went, but I can say; that it wasn’t fun, if I was asked at that point in time, if I would ever have another child, I would gladly say: No More! As a matter of fact; I didn’t have sex for well over a year after I had my daughter. The pain was not fun, it was close to hell, although I have never been to hell, and I do not know what the place looks like,but I can tell you that; Being in labor for child delivery is PAINFUL (Any witness in the house?)

The sweetest part, the joyous moment is what the picture I found on Instagram captured so well, That Moment, my child was placed in my arms, that moment was magical, I felt fulfilled, because after all the toil and pain, I held my precious gift in my arms. Oh what a moment. As for me, I could relieve that moment everyday and smile, like I found a cookie jar…But I still do not know if I still want to have kids, but I am grateful to God for giving me my daughter. She made life worth living for. And I would give her the world.

On a last note; I am giving a shout-out to mothers all over the world, especially single moms ; I mean the Exceptional Moms who combines the work of a mother and father at the same time, Keep at it, We will not labor in vain. We will survive it.

Picture Credit @WeddingsVille via @Instagram

My Mother, My Mother


Ìyá nìyáà mi.

Àṣàníàdeè…Ìgè àdùbí olóòṣaà mọ̀lété…Tribute to my mother. Yeah, it’s mother’s day, but I feel mothers should be celebrated everyday. Mothers deserve to be honoured everyday. My mother; she might not be my best friend, she might not be my favourite parent, but I love my mum. My mum, she would stop at nothing to get the best for her children. My mum is usually in her full element, whenever any of us was ill. She would go all out , to make hasten our recovery process. She drilled us with chores, all to make us better, you can never be lazy around my mother. My mother can multitask, her multi tasking habit, sent us out of her kitchen a thousand times, because if she asks you to do something for her, and you didn’t deliver on time, she would snatch it from your hands, and finish up by herself, even while she has other things to do, she would say: “Bí èèyàn bá ń kọ́ṣẹ́, ó máa ń kọ́ ìyára mọ ni.” Which means: whenever you are learning a skill, you learn speed along side your learning.. .She never cuts anybody a slack, my mother would set you straight with an ìfọ́jú, ìgbátí or an àbàrá to set your head straight. I and her never really got along well, but my mother has been a good mother, not just to me, even to my siblings, and even to my daughter.  My mother; had so manyYorùbá adages, up her sleeve, each time you err. She would say: “Bí wọ́n bá ní;kólójú tọ́jú ojú ‘ẹ̀, kó ba lè fi ríran ni” She would even sing songs to set you straight; Wọ́n ń pè ẹ́ ní sisí, sisí, inú ‘ẹ ń dùn, o ò mọ ará Èkó, o ò mọ ará Ègbá, wọ́n á sọ ẹ di pàànṣárà apẹ̀rẹ̀ àjàṣẹ́. Oh, my mother…One of her rhetorical questions goes thus: Taní gún’yán fún ẹ, tó ní tọbẹ̀ ‘ò ṣòro? Ah! Ìyaalá, like we fondly call her. When I was at OOU, to study diploma in marketing, she made trips down almost every week, just to check on me, she would cook and pour in a nylon bag, all the way from Lagos, to Orù, just because she wanted me to eat good food. She would come bearing tins of milk, and carton of Lipton, because she knows I am addicted to tea. With the little she could afford to give tied to the edge of her wrapper. She came visiting me, in all the places I lived in while I was doing my diploma. She wanted the best for me, but we were always at logger heads . My mum, she would say; ah! Èmi ‘ò lè gbẹ̀rí ọmọ Kankan jẹ́ o, meaning she cannot trust any child. So, she would rather take the side of an outsider, than to take sides with you. But; she fought for me oh, one time; I remember an incident, a lady that said I didn’t greet her well, all because I said good evening, not Ẹ káalẹ́…trust iyashola, immediately she came in that night; I asked her if anybody has ever reported me to her, that I did not greet them well, she said no…Ah! Come and see human right activism that night. Ìyaṣọlá dealth with this lady oh! I felt so good, that day,it was a memorable night. When I gave birth to my daughter; I know I let her down, and she was disappointed in me, yet; she stood by me, she took care of my daughter, she stayed awake at night, just for me to sleep. She would escort me to the bus-stop at dawn, when I would leave home very early to go to Unilag from abule-egba.  Ọláyẹmi, my màmá dey hustle, did I mention she used to travel from Lagos to Lome, to sell stuff, she did that for some years, before she gave up on that. What business has she not done before? She sold tailoring materials, she sold wine, she sold drinks, she sold food, she even sold peppersoup …My mama don try. She is an akínkanjú obìnrin, aboni…My mother , my mother…We never agree on anything, and she has my mumu button, of all my siblings, I am still the only one she can shakara, because I am afraid of her oh! Yes I am, because she made it known to me at a very young age that; you can not mess with me. Although I am also a very stubborn child…but I met my match in my mother. Ah! The day she inserted àtà ìjọ̀sì in my vagina!!! Ah! A day never to be forgotten…this is a story for another day…

In all, my mother is the best mother in the whole wide world. She is the one woman who I can confidently vote for as, the most hardworking woman on earth, if the amount of work we do; could be the amount of riches/wealth we have, my mum would have been the richest woman on earth.

I celebrate you today…Ìyáaalá…I love you so much. Happy Mothers Day.

dear mother