"Beach Days, Small Chicken, and Big Thoughts "

This week has been a rollercoaster, and today was no different. I went to the beach with my three cousins, hoping for a fun and carefree day. While it started off lighthearted, it turned into something much deeper—literally and emotionally.

We kicked things off with food, expecting grand burgers and huge pieces of chicken. What we got instead? Chickens that looked like they skipped leg day and a burger so tiny it could’ve come from a kid’s menu. We laughed it off—because what else could we do? Food is food, right?

Once we got to the beach, it was everything I hoped for: the sun on my skin, the sound of the waves, and the carefree energy of people enjoying themselves. But I had my own internal battle to face.

The ocean has always been my fear.

I’ve never liked going too deep; the unknown beneath the water has always scared me. But today, I decided to push myself. For the first time ever, I went deeper into the ocean than I thought I could. My heart was racing, but I felt brave. It wasn’t much, but to me, it felt like a breakthrough.

Then reality, as it always does, caught up with us.

One of my cousins had to leave because her babysitter had an emergency and ran off to a wedding. (Yes, a wedding—African life is never boring.) So, we cut our beach day short and headed back.

The rest of the day was spent at my cousin’s mom’s salon. If you’ve ever been around African parents, you already know: errands. Non-stop errands. And somewhere in the middle of all that running around, my thoughts started to take over.

This week, romantic songs have been messing with my head.

I’ve had Reason With Me by Rude Boy, African Queen by 2Baba, Fall In Love by D’banj, and Love You Anyways by Johnny Drille on repeat. Each song pulls me into my own world, a world where I’m imagining my future, my dream life, my love story.

Here’s the thing: my mind keeps drifting to Nigerians. There’s something about the culture, the passion, and the connection I feel through these songs. But then I tell myself it doesn’t have to be a Nigerian. It’s not like I’m planning my life around this thought—it just happens. Still, the back-and-forth gets frustrating. Like, why am I so caught up in this? Why can’t I just focus on what life brings my way?

And that’s not even my biggest struggle.

When I got home, I was greeted by a messy house. I cleaned up, changed into something comfortable, and lay on my bed. That’s when the overthinking hit me like a wave.

Why is dating so hard for me? Why do I feel like I’m not enough? I don’t even have a part-time job yet, and the thought of asking my parents for help scares me. We’re not close—not in the way I wish we were. They’re just “Mom” and “Dad.” We don’t have deep conversations about my future or my feelings.

And then there’s me, feeling lost and wondering if I’ll ever be successful. If I’ll ever feel confident. If I’ll ever be seen the way I want to be seen. The tears came before I could stop them.

But here’s what I’m trying to remind myself: life isn’t perfect, and it’s okay to feel this way.

Today, I faced a fear I’ve had my whole life by stepping into the ocean. It might not seem like much, but to me, it was everything. Tomorrow is Sunday, and I’ll be heading to church. Maybe it’ll help me find some peace. Maybe it won’t. But it’s a new day, and that’s what I’m holding on to.

To anyone reading this who feels stuck like me: you’re not alone. We’ll figure it out. Somehow.

Until next time,

The Dreamer 

The Girls Behind the Dreamers Pause

You know that dream college you’ve always wanted to attend? That was me. I had my heart set on this beautiful private college that I’d been dreaming about for ages. And you know what made it even more special? It was the only one that accepted me, and it did so immediately—like, right after I applied. No long waiting periods, no endless anxiety. Just a simple, “Congratulations, you’re in.” It was fast, it was reassuring, and it felt like my dream was finally coming true.

But then, reality hit hard. The fees were way beyond what I could afford. I tried to find ways to make it work, like applying for bursaries, but the ones I found only funded other courses, not what I wanted to pursue. So, I had to let go of that dream, at least for now.

But I didn’t let it stop me. Instead of sitting at home feeling defeated, I decided to turn my gap year into something meaningful. I made a plan: take short courses and get a part-time job to build my skills and keep moving forward. After all, staying at home doing nothing wasn’t an option for me. I didn’t want to be a “free domestic worker” or housekeeper—I wanted to do something that felt productive and aligned with my goals.

Then, something exciting happened! I applied for a program offering short courses similar to what I want to do, and they accepted me. The only condition? I have to attend a free four-day job seekers workshop to confirm my registration. How amazing is that? I’m so excited about this new opportunity—it’s not exactly the path I envisioned, but it’s a step forward, and I’m grateful for it.

Now, I just need to let my parents know about my plans and make sure they’re on board. Communication is key, right? This workshop is my chance to learn, grow, and take another step closer to my dreams. It’s not the perfect scenario, but I refuse to sit still and let life pass me by.

Here’s to making the most of what I’ve got and turning this gap year into a year of growth and opportunity!

Until next time,

The Girl Behind The Dreamer’s Paws

The Girl Behind the Dreamers Pause

So, this is finally happening! After what feels like forever, I’m going out—but here’s the twist: this time, it’s not with friends. Instead, I’m tagging along with my cousins. Yep, my high school cousins.

Let’s get this out of the way first: I’m 19. My cousins are 16 and 15, and honestly, that feels like a crime against nature because they somehow seem older than me. Like, how does that even work? But hey, we’re rolling with it because today, we’re heading to the beach!

Now, let’s address my mini-crisis leading up to this. What would I wear? I don’t exactly have a closet full of beach-friendly outfits, and I didn’t want to look like the “mom cousin” either. I wanted something youthful, fun, and comfortable. After a borderline meltdown and digging through my clothes like I was on a treasure hunt, I found the outfit. Thank God, because looking the part is half the battle, right?

But let’s be real, the beach isn’t just about the outfit. It’s about the vibes—and I can’t wait to dive into those vibes! I’m looking forward to fighting (playfully, of course, because who doesn’t love a good cousin squabble?), eating some fast food, and just soaking up the energy of being out and about. And who knows? Maybe, just maybe, I’ll meet someone interesting there. I mean, the beach is as good a place as any to stumble across a potential B.O.Y. friend, right? Hey, a girl can dream.

Sure, I’m older, but today, I’m determined to bridge that gap. I want to laugh at their silly jokes, prove I can still keep up, and maybe even remind myself how fun it is to just let loose. I hope I can balance being the cool older cousin while still enjoying that middle ground where I don’t feel too grown.

So here’s to a day of sunshine, fries, fun, and maybe even some unexpected surprises. Here’s to making memories, finding those little moments of connection, and hopefully not feeling like I need to “act my age” too much. Ooh, it’s gonna be fun. I hope.

Until next time,

The Girl Behind The Dreamer’s Paws

The Outfits That Don't Fit

She stands in front of her wardrobe, staring at clothes that make her feel like she’s wearing someone else’s life. The dresses, the skirts, the blouses—they’re all from a different world. A world where she’s a woman in her late twenties, with kids, wearing outfits to church or family gatherings. They’re not the kind of clothes that make her feel alive, not the kind of clothes that reflect her teenage spirit. They’re just practical, comfortable, and—unfortunately—old-fashioned.

She can’t help but feel like she’s stuck in a time loop, wearing things that are years behind what her friends are wearing. She looks at them—the trendy outfits that her classmates wear, the ones that seem to define who they are. Her clothes don’t help her feel seen. They don’t help her feel like the person she knows she is inside. She feels disconnected, like she’s playing a role she never signed up for.

When she tries to explain to her parents that she feels old in these clothes, they don’t understand. “They’re nice, they’re fine,” they say, dismissing her feelings. But the truth is, they don’t get it. These clothes are not her. They’re for a life she doesn’t want. They don’t make her feel like the teenager she is, the one who wants to explore, to be herself, to wear what makes her feel confident and free.

She dreams of the day when she can buy her own clothes—clothes that make her feel like she’s part of the world she sees online, the world where everyone seems to have it all figured out. Maybe one day, she’ll be able to buy outfits that are trendy, that reflect her true self. But for now, it’s just her, trying to make the best of what she has—clothes that don’t fit, and a life that doesn’t seem to match the one in her heart.

Scrolling through social media, she feels the weight of everything she’s missing. There are her friends—out on dates, laughing, wearing outfits that make them look confident and free. They’re out there, living lives full of adventure and freedom. Meanwhile, she’s stuck at home, watching from the sidelines, scrolling through endless pictures of people living the life she wishes she could have.

She knows she’s different. She knows her life is not like theirs. She’s not going to parties, not out with friends, not dating or going on fun adventures. She’s at home, always busy with the endless list of chores—washing dishes, cleaning, looking after her younger siblings. Her parents don’t understand how she feels. They don’t get why she just wants to leave.

She wants to be her true self. She wants to step out of this house and into the world, to wear clothes that feel right, to have the freedom to be who she really is. She dreams of getting a part-time job, anything that will help her save up to leave. She just needs a way out. A way to get away from the constant cycle of chores and routines that make her feel like she’s stuck in a never-ending loop.

The world outside seems so bright, so full of possibilities. She wants to break free from the walls of her room, to wear the clothes that feel like her, to live the life that she knows is waiting for her. But for now, she’s waiting. Waiting for a job, waiting for an opportunity, waiting for the moment when she can step outside and start becoming the real version of herself that’s been locked inside for so long.

One day, she knows, it will happen. One day, she’ll break free from all of this. But until then, she’s stuck in this routine, just waiting for her chance to go out and find herself.

A Dream of Us: The Beginning

There is a dream I carry—a dream so vivid, so alive, that it feels like it was whispered into my soul before I ever learned to speak. It is the kind of dream that transcends time, place, and circumstance. A dream of love, culture, and purpose. A dream of us.

In this vision, I see myself with a man who is more than a partner—he is my mirror, my strength, and my peace. He is Nigerian, and though I do not yet know his name, his face, or his story, I feel his presence in my heart. It’s as if my life has been leading me to him, preparing me for the moment when our paths will cross.

It began, perhaps, with the music. Those old Nigerian songs from the 2010s, with their rhythms that seemed to carry the pulse of life itself. I’d close my eyes and imagine the stories behind the melodies—the love, the joy, the struggles, the triumphs. Somewhere in those beats, I found my own story, a story yet to be written but already alive within me.

The Wedding: A Symphony of Love

Our wedding will not be just a union of two souls, but a celebration of two worlds. Nigerian and Congolese cultures will meet like rivers converging into one powerful current. The colors will be vibrant—deep golds, rich reds, luminous whites—woven into fabrics that tell stories of heritage and pride.

The air will be filled with the aroma of jollof rice and saka-saka, suya and moambe chicken, alongside the comforting warmth of fumbwa, pondu, and makayabu—a feast that speaks to the heart and nourishes the soul. Guests from every corner of the world, every culture, will gather to witness not just a marriage but a harmony of traditions. The music will weave through the celebration like a heartbeat, blending the sounds of our ancestors with the promise of our future.

In that moment, as we exchange vows, I’ll look into his eyes and see everything: the past, the present, and the future. A lifetime of love, of building, of growing.

Our Children: Carriers of Legacy

I dream of a home filled with laughter, light, and love. Six children, each one a testament to the life we’ve built together.

Our firstborn, a girl, will carry the wisdom of a thousand generations, her heart strong and her spirit kind. Our twin boys will bring mischief and wonder, teaching us to see the world through fresh, curious eyes. Our fourth child, another girl, will dance through life with grace and creativity, her soul as radiant as the sun. And then, the twins—a boy and a girl—each a perfect balance of strength and tenderness, reflecting the unity of their parents.

Together, we’ll teach them to embrace the beauty of diversity, to see the world not in fragments but as a tapestry of cultures, beliefs, and experiences. They’ll learn to be kind but firm, to give but never be taken for granted, to dream but never lose sight of reality.

Building a Life That Matters

Our love will not be confined to the walls of our home. It will extend into the world, touching lives and inspiring others. Together, we’ll build businesses that uplift, not just ourselves, but our community. We’ll be entrepreneurs of hope, creating opportunities where there were none, planting seeds of faith where doubt once lingered.

I’ll pursue my dreams—singing, fashion, business, politics—and he will walk alongside me, as I will walk alongside him in his own journey. Our lives will be a testament to what is possible when love and purpose are intertwined.

And through it all, our faith will anchor us. Our love for God will guide us, reminding us to remain humble, grateful, and steadfast.

A Universal Love

This dream is not just about me or him or even us. It’s about the human spirit—the belief that love can bridge gaps, that culture can unite rather than divide, that our differences are what make us whole. It’s about building a legacy that transcends time, a legacy that says, We were here. We loved. We lived. We gave.

This is my dream. A dream of a love that speaks to the heart, the mind, and the soul. A love that anyone, from any culture or background, can feel and understand. Because at the core of it, we are all searching for the same thing: connection, purpose, and a place to belong.

And though I don’t yet know his name, I know this: He is out there, waiting, just as I am waiting. And one day, when the time is right, we will find each other.

Until then, I will hold this dream close, letting it guide me, inspire me, and remind me of the infinite possibilities that life holds.