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Locked-down or locked-in?

Somehow almost an entire year has passed since I have put pen to paper (so to speak) and here I sit wondering how on earth so much could have gone unscripted. Much has happened, many countries traversed, friends made, friends lost, and one thing is for sure, many illnesses and adventures have been had.

Right now I sit here in my apartment watching the kestrels flying above the treetops and waiting to see if my newly found friend, a wild Egret, will deem to sit on my balcony once again and just stare at me nonplussed for some time. (He is quite the amusing fellow I can tell you; looks at me with his earnest eyes as if wanting food, yet when I put flaked fish out for him, he is too hesitant to take it. However when any other Egret dares to breach his boundary walls, he becomes almost apoplectic and I become certain he will fall off to his sudden death…..Yes I know, a bird can’t fall, but you get the jist).

Whilst it sounds tranquil and somewhat of a nice way to begin the weekend, it is also beyond my choice. It is Stage Two of elections here in Nigeria, this time for the State Governor roles. I will definitely not make any comment on this, nor the Presidential Election, as it is indeed not my place to do so. But what I can remark, is that when these take place, the whole place gets put onto “Lock-down/curfew”. No vehicles are allowed on the road during the voting process and due to any potential safety issues, we are asked not to venture beyond our premises.

Continue reading “Locked-down or locked-in?”

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It’s all in the way that you feel.

“I live here, I may as well like it”, I retorted as I discussed the chaos that can be life in Lagos, to my newly-found friend who was visiting me from my beloved Uganda. And herein opened the can of worms that my mind and body has been keeping a rather large lid on.

I haven’t actually been liking it at all. Not inside. Not in my heart. Not in my inspiration.

Was it the fault of Lagos? Was it the fault of the artificiality  I feel from ex-pat lifestyle? Was it the fault of my continued chronic pain? Or was it just not “there”, wherever that happens to be?

Perhaps in fact, it was the fault of the intensive physio program I was ensuring I followed, due to my determination to be fully fit, flexible and mobile, so that I could get my life back…

Continue reading “It’s all in the way that you feel.”