Ugochi Ugwuanyi's Blog

 Ruggedity is the impetus that creates the difference It is the horse upon which the high and mighty mount to fly Ephata!  Taliiiii tacumi! Success will meet you not while you cower and hide?  You must meet it halfway.  And right from the days of the old heaven suffereth violence And only the violence taketh it by force!  In time of peace be their peace,  And in time of war show them that lion begeth not a goat.  Maka asi agwọ emeghị ihe ọ ji bụrụ agwọ ụmụaka ewere ya ke nkụ.  From Abraham, to David, to Cleopatra, to Caeser, Jesus, and Paul,  Ndị nna nna anyị fa, The people of the old for which you associate their names with greatness, Who amongst them was ever noted for success by cowardice?   Ngwanu kunie,  The battle line is drawn.  You either put on your jungle booth, Matching straightforward, head on  Into the war field, determined to tumble the rumble... Or,  You remain where you are, Stunted, wasted. Becau...

Dear children, Darling children of mine, the stalks of my very vine, beauty of my youth, testaments of my existence, how are you doing? How is the shore of  the unknown buried in the waters of my womb treating you? I know you are fine; you cannot be "unfine" for that is a term associated with the realm of the Earth, a realm you are yet to land on.  Marvelous children, while you wait to explore this space, I would love to, from time to time expose you to the human nature, in order that when you finally arrive, you may not be taken aback.  Today, I would tell you a story. Once upon a time in my childhood days, I had a friend who switches up on me for no particular reason. This moment, we are playing and laughing, the next moment, she is ignoring me.  Everytime she did this, confused me would follow her wherever she went, wanting to win her friendship back. Ironically enough, in all the moments I followed her around, I knew I had done nothing to deserve the way she tre...

Photo credit: Gettyimages.  In my teenage years, I remember wanting to have acnes on my face. Yes. You know, in those years (and even now still), I had this small body. Or maybe, let's just say, I was in class with people who looked more mature than I was.  In those years, among my peers, signs of maturity were not just in hips and bursts.They were also in the spotted marks here and there on your face, a testimony of acnes that have come and gone. Those times having a small body seemed like a curse. Where your peers go to and are respected, go there, your case would certainly be different, because you will not just be called a child, you will also be treated as one. And of course, at this time, we wanted to be adults more than the adults.  But, there was a slight variation though for some other people. These ones, they had small bodies, no obvious shape anywhere, and then they had pimples. For these ones, when it was time to argue on who was older and who was not, or prob...

The borderline of sanity is wide and slippery. It is daunting and daring. It roars at you, and cajoles you. It dares you at every point in time, in every little thing; it reminds you every single event of things - things assumed forgotten, things supposed taken care of - and all these efforts, just in a bid to trap you in.   In the last weeks of May, I met a friend at a Neuropsychiatric Hospital. They have crossed this border and back. My friend, they are the type I would refer to as, according to their words, "close but not close. We know each other, yet we don't." The first time they called out to me from where they sat, I thought I heard my name, but I didn't answer because I was sure no one knew me here. The second time they called me, I looked towards where the name came from, but did not see. But then I looked even farther, and someone was running towards me, a familiar face - albeit unusually now lean - one that has been on my mind for sometime, especially sinc...

It's in the little things. The way you ask "are you well?"  With the look of concern on your face When my face seem clouded with worry.  The way you reach out to catch me, And look into my face without saying a word, When I misplace my step and want to fall.  The way you hold me, Gently on the shoulders to say, "Kedu?"  When I give you a soft nudge  On your chest or tummy, As a way of greeting.  Ayee, It's in all the little nothings that are bigger all things. It's in the way you care.  The way you listen.  And even though I won't deny that sometimes  I do want to kiss you,  I think that these little nothings  Are what love is all about.  Ugoo.  19/08/2023. 

  Today, I was going to make a post whose subject matter would have bothered on, “choose to be happy no matter what life throws at you (in extension, choose to succeed against all odds).”  But then, it occurred to me, I could only think this way because I have the privilege of choosing. What about the people who sincerely can’t choose? Like the young lady I saw one day on my way to Ebenebe, whose whole mouth is painfully blocked by a giant,malignant, tumour? Or the people permanently made unaware of anything else asides the pain that comes from the ailment of body/life which they suffer? Pain is in grades. And though neither of the grades invalidates the trauma of one another, it’s still true that some people suffer more than others.  Thus, for this reason, I would rather put it this way, if you can afford to be a chooser, especially career and “relationship” wise, but you are currently depressed because you seem to be making no headway, here are important things to note:...