Walking a Mile in My Own Shoes + A Birthday

[Image: I and my darling sister]
I have always felt an overbearing sense of responsibility, being the first child and all. See, I bet there's a reason that I saw the world first before my siblings, although as I place my fingers on this keyboard I cannot really put a twist to the sentence that would explain the answer. So I am simply going erase the thought and accept that it is merely a gift from God.

The Flame:

I will never forget the account of my first birthday. I've always had a seed a naughtiness. As the story goes, I was surrounded by other one-year olds, my parents, cousins, aunties, and uncles, everyone delighted to see me approach my first year on earth. But my eyes were glued to something else -- the candle on the cake with the little yellowish-orange flame. I walked up to it and raised my right hand to touch it, obviously trying to invite the flame to be my friend. Before I could make my request, I felt another hand (my mother's) grabbing my hand and removing it from doing any such thing. Anyway, when no one was looking, I walked up to the candle to finish my request. This time, I succeeded (people call this determination). The only problem was that I wasn't yet old enough to understand that when you put your hand in fire, it burns. I cried at the first sting of pain, and didn't stop crying until some minutes later. #RecordedOnVideo

The Narrow Path:

I attended my first class when I was three. After the candle incident earlier, I guess I wasn't scared of fire. If it had burned me once, I wouldn't be too hurt if I got burned again. As the story goes, neither was I scared of big wide busy roads with cars driving and tooting their horns at passersby. At my kindergarten class, my parents scheduled me to be dropped off with the school bus every afternoon. The thing is the school bus never drove to the house, so an adult was required to stand at the beginning of the street to meet me each time (this being my father). How be it that on one sunny day, there was nobody waiting for me (it was either the bus was too early or he was running late). However, the school bus of Our Ladies Nursery School in Sapele, still decided to drop me off regardless. So I took it upon myself and started walking home. Mind you, I had to walk straight first, and then make a right, and then walk all the way down to our house (it was not a straight path). A few minutes later, I reached the house and my dad was just coming to get me. You can imagine the shock on his face (now giggling). Three-year olds can find their own way home.

The Experiment:

I've always been the experiment. If there was any new thing to try out on children, my parents would try it out on me first, before obligating the rest to the same thing. At eleven (or so), my father said I must attend his alma mater (iLaugh), a secondary school in Warri. I was excited though, I was going to travel from Lagos to Delta State and become an independent young woman teenager. I felt so responsible and so good about it. But the thing about experiments is that something might go wrong. In my second year there, I fell horribly sick (like I couldn't even walk) and my parents came to collect me and transferred me to a school closer to home. Oh well, I enjoyed my one year and some months in Warri.

The Writer:

I think it started with an interest in literature. Like most people, books transport me to a different realm where everything is vivid, evocative, and phenomenal. I became a sleuth while reading the 'Nancy Drew Files,' a British child while following the adventures of 'The Famous Five,' and a fictional character climbing up the tree with those kids in 'The Wishing Chair.' I advanced to even more intriguing books later, and each one became a part of my destiny. It wasn't until recently that God spoke to me about how to take this further in fulfilling my purpose, and I thank Him for giving me the passion for writing on the Lamp and for the future writing projects I'm working on.

The Celebrant:

As I turn twenty-six (phew!) today, I just want to take time to appreciate the love of God in my life, my husband, and my family members (which includes YOU, my writing family at this point). God has been good to me, and I think that is definitely an understatement. I prophesy into my life that this is only the beginning of the best things to come, and I sit at His feet waiting delightfully. Father, thank You, just because of who You are: My Shepherd (even while I graze for grass in a world that's not so evergreen, You are still with me); My Redeemer (many don't understand that You're the One who pulls me back up when I've fallen to the ground, I could never have done this without You by my side); My rock (what do people who don't have You fall on, when there's no one else to hold? You are firm and unchanging in Your word, a solid rock on which I stand); My 1st Love (so that the love I have for my husband, family, and friends stem from the source of your never-ending love). I thank You for so many other things that will be too long for this post, but You, O Lord, already know. I LOVE YOU!

[by birthdaycakedesigns.co.uk]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!! *Insert Smiley Face*