My Happily Ever After 1 - The Pre-Wedding Blog Post.

 Happiness is what we live for and we all spend our entire lives in the pursuit of happiness, however unconscious we are of this fact. The most fortunate people on earth are not the rich, the most fortunate people on earth are those who find happiness, except of course if being rich is what makes them happy. I define unfortunate as living your whole life seeking happiness and not finding it at the end of it all. Not being able to smile to yourself as you lie on your deathbed and feel your spirit drift cloudwards and say 'I have lived a good, happy life.'

 Happiness means a lot of things to different people. For some, it is being rich and having everything they want, for some it is being in a sweet, loving and secure relationship with an amazing human, for some it is being in a comforting and heart-warming relationship with a superior being, for some, it is caring for and sharing with others that gives them joy, for some, time spent with friends and family are priceless joyful moments that are untradable. For me and some other people, it is a mash-up of all of these but with the romantic and spiritual relationships conspicuously in the centre. 

 My happily ever after story may not be as romantic as Jack and Rose's or Romeo and Juliet's but it is still the most beautiful thing that has ever happened to me and it brings tears to my eyes every time I think about it. My love story reached its peak exactly two months ago today and I decided to immortalise it (who knows if the internet will last forever but at least it is our surest bet for now) it by penning it down now that it is still fresh and not some faraway, faded memory. Maybe someday, when I am too old to remember the details my grand daughter will find this as a complementary account to the scanty details I verbally share with her. Also, as I like to mark, honour and commemorate everything, here is to two months of being married to an extremely delightful man. Here we go.

  In mid 2014, I met a young man who was passionate about God just as much as I was and maybe even more. Someone once posted a question that asked people where that will be if they were to marry their lovers where they met them. I laughed as I read funny comments like 'in my friend's house,' 'on the road,' 'in a taxi,' 'in the restroom', etc. Mine would have been the most appropriate answer because we met in different churches. I would explain. I saw him for the first time in my church where he had been invited to minister but he had seen me earlier in a religious gathering, not exactly a church but at a gathering of christians from all denominations. We got talking mostly on the phone and every time we met at our bi-monthly christian meetings. I thought he was so cute. I totally loved his smiles and the cute dimples that appeared on his cheeks when he smiled. I was due for a masters course in England in October, just five months after we met and because of this he didn't take the relationship further although he wanted to ask me to date him at the time. Although I was dating someone at the time and thought he somehow found out, I was a bit disappointed that he didn't ask me out. I even prayed about it asking that he should come back to me if he was truly mine....lol.  So off I flew thousands of ocean miles away to England but we communicated occasionally during my sojourn in England. Although all hopes of ever dating the young, handsome preacher's son who was himself a preacher were gone. I wonder how we pray about things as christians and expect them not to happen.

 Fast forward to October 2015, I had just rounded up my masters course and was eagerly awaiting my final result. It had been a long year for me. I had worked my way up to the top of my class, a feat that was by no means easy considering that I was six weeks behind the others on resumption. I had also worked like a horse trying to pay my way through school but most importantly, I had enjoyed God's grace in several amazing ways and had grown closer to God, stalking all of Heather Lindsey's posts like an obsessed fan and wishing me a man like Cornelius Lindsey. Something I prayed about too...lol. I talk to God about pretty much everything, from a crush to a mean remark by a colleague. Let's just say God and hubby are my best friends. I had gotten this fantastic job in Nigeria (one of God's favours which I talked about earlier) and was preparing to fly back to Nigeria to take up the role. A week before my home coming, he pretty much asked to me to start a godly relationship with him. He didn't know I was coming to Nigeria. In fact, he didn't know about the job but he would call me everyday for a considerable length of time, not minding how expensive international calls were. 

 When I arrived in Nigeria, he came all the way from Calabar where he was based to see me and we had our first official date. It was a memorable one because we were friends who hadn't seen each other in a long time and we were also lovers on our first date. He brought me a necklace which he had bought while he was on pilgrimage to Isreal and which I still treasure to this day. He helped me put it round my neck in a very romantic way. I was ecstatic, I had never being treated so specially by a man in a long time. I laughed a lot when I remembered the prayer I said that if he was mine, he would definitely come back to me. I gave God a lot of secret winks during our date that night. We talked a lot about what had happened to both of us during the absence. We had ice-cream because I didn't want to eat anything. I was too thrilled for that. And that was how my relationship with my hubby of today started. I am proud to say we did it God's way. We honoured God with our relationship and with every part of our bodies even our lips. Some people go halfway but not the whole way but we kept anything that even looked like the beginning of physical romance at arm's length. It was not that difficult because both of us were on the same moral page. He works directly with God and I had prayed to God for several years to send me someone who wouldn't defile me. Notwithstanding, I do remember a few times when we both had to walk away painfully but are grateful for today because if we hadn't, indecency would have crept in.

 Fast forward to 2016. We got married in March. My next post would describe the engagement, introduction, bridal shower and wedding in details. Watch out for My Happily Ever After 2 - The Wedding Blog Post.

Hubby and I on our first date. We are both formally dressed because I had to come from work and he is quite the formal guy.

                                                                   

The British in Me!

On the 30th of October 2014, I landed from the sky like an alien in a spaceship at a place called Colchester in the county of Essex in England. I immediately got a cute room in a classy hostel. It was to be my home for the next one year; the first place that I could call mine. No shared bed with troublesome sisters, not even a shared bathroom because the price for freedom, independence, privacy and comfort had been paid with my blood. I swung into action, having arrived 6 weeks behind schedule due to circumstances beyond my control, attending lectures that were absolutely senseless at first, living in books and as my Kurdish friend and course-mate described it 'burying my ass in work.' The first few weeks were a dazey-maze. I saw the impressive, the horrific, the strange and the surprising. Tattoos covering every inch of skin, cigarette stench that hung permanently in the air, assertive personalities and outfits, some of them so clingy or so sparse that one doesn't see the point of wearing anything at all, public show of affection that would be seen as the height of indecency in my home country, Nigeria. All of these are what is collectively called culture shock but there was more. I propose the phrase 'climate shock' to describe the way my poor body struggled to survive under harshly cold weather conditions far lower than any temperature it had ever known.

I remember thinking of myself as the dumbest person in the world in those days because I didn't know basic things like how to get some place, when and how to get on the bus and how to read road signs. I was always lost and couldn't even remember the way to places I had been to before. This was very exasperating to my friend and tour guide in my first few days, Tutu. I totally hated myself for being the most pathetic dumb ass in the world and thought ever coming to this place was my 'umpteenth' mistake. These uneventful, booky (I did throw myself into my studies more than was necessary) days of feeling dumb and dazed by new conventions soon flew by and soon it was winter and Christmas! I remember the Christmas trees strategically positioned on campus and although it was cold and I was lonely with few friends and very far away from family, at least I took a breather from the suffocating studies and volunteered a lot over the winter break. Dressing up fashionably during the winter is a skilled act. The winter jackets, dowdy and mostly in miserable colours, cramps your style but my winter dress sense got better with time like everything else. Christmas day arrived and I walked to church because the buses didn't run on that day and I missed the church bus (slept late on Christmas Eve after volunteering for a Christmas Dinner and going home to some Christmas movies). After the Christmas lunch at church, I returned home to more movies and carols. I was a major abuser of the free wifi we were entitled to as students. I would fall asleep live streaming gospel songs on YouTube. A film show organised by the Catholic Student Fellowship took up most of my Christmas evening. Two days after Christmas I volunteered at the VC's Christmas lunch and got a package for all my 'hardwork' during the winter when school re-opened in January much later than all other non-volunteer students who got their presents from the VC at the party. 'Santa' was at my flat earlier in the month to give me his Christmas present but I was too busy in the library. I had my first trip out of Colchester to Milton Keynes and London for New Year. It was still the most restful period of my time at Essex but it came at a price I am too ashamed to disclose here.

The flowers began to blossom in Spring and England which was only red, white and green began to be freckled with beautiful shades of purple, yellow, blue, orange and even pink. Spring meant more hard work because as results for the Autumn term assessments were released and turned out impressive, the motivation to work harder and do even better soared. I also remember Spring for volunteering as a creativity teacher at Prettygate Infant School, Colchester. As my exorbitant and outrageous rent gulped down my funds slowly but surely, I began to desperately hunt for jobs in February; going from the schools to the care homes and finally the factories who finally smiled at me. They gave you impressive titles but paid the least amount they could get away with. From 'eye-candilizing' raw chicken to make it look good enough to bite instantly, to preparing just harvested fruits for the grocery shops, to packaging cosmetics and helping in the production of cakes, my friends from church and I were regular faces in the factories of East England. How did the friends come to be? As the temperature increased, moods and spirits lifted. The cold stares and plastic smiles were replaced with more genuine smiles and banters. You would have sworn these were not the same people with the frozen moods in winter. I made some more friends and the loneliness of winter was history. It was also at this point that the British accent began to sneak up on me, making me realize how much a language and a bad disease have in common. You catch them whether you want to or not. I caught the British accent like a bad disease! Spring also saw lighter jackets as the thermal ones were tossed aside in favour of more trendy ones. The bold and daring discarded the jackets altogether. Spring break flew past between working for big grades and small money and finally the much awaited summer was here.

Summer was a splash of colours but this time, not just from the flowers but also from humans in colourful clothes. Summer meant more skin and more outdoor activities. I confess that I got too tempted at some point and pushed the hemline a little higher than my mum would have allowed if she was  there with me. Summer term was the laziest. Lectures ended with spring and all summer term, we got approval for our project topics and proposals which we wrote in spring. We also sorted out our supervisors. I remember being tossed from one supervisor to another until I found the perfect one, a sweet, quiet but meticulous and intelligent female professor. The over-zealous students started the dissertation right away. Perfect timing students like me just didn't see the point of starting so early when we had two whole months of summer break so we lazed about, worked for some more money, attended picnics and barbecues and attended dissertation writing classes once every week. It was during this time I read about a seemingly insignificant job but which I applied for anyway just for a chance to work in London but which has turned out to be the biggest job I have ever landed. I also applied to be the front desk administrator of the Students' Union under the auspices of the frontrunner scheme of the University of Essex which I was offered after an oral test promptly followed by a written one. I spent summer break putting in three hours weekdays on this job and going home to lunch and my project or going straight to the library to the dissertation. I loved working on my paid job and I loved working on the dissertation. I remember laughing through it as I remember my mum and her pronunciations of words in her language which I analysed as my project. With so much fun work to do, summer was quiet fun for me and apart from a dinner and  a picnic, I was buried in the kind of work I loved doing. Working at the union, however, did put some strain on my nerves because of my personality type but I loved the prestige that came with it and I wore (no, flashed) my staff card proudly around my neck and all over campus like a gold medal. We turned in the dissertation as summer was dying out and hit the factories again, having moved out of our student accommodation into town houses. Nigerians do love money quite a lot. I was also a student ambassador saddled with the responsibility of welcoming new, international students to the U.K on behalf of the university and leading them back to campus. Another prestigious feat! When I got notified that I was one of the four Nigerian linguists chosen to carry out a project in a multinational software company you all know very well, my joy knew no bounds. It is about a year today since I went on that sojourn in a foreign land and with a fantastic degree later, an awesome job, a wealth of knowledge and some work experience, I can only say "Thank you, Lord for making it well worth it."

At the Albert Sloman University

Me in the library studying so hard for a masters degree in England.

Day 4 Gratitude Challenge
 I am grateful to God for my family. Sometimes, I wonder what it would have been like to have been born into another family. Although, I didn't get a chance to choose through what family I came into the world but God, who knows all things and sees the future, made the perfect choice for me. By myself, I could have made a mistake cause there would have been absolutely no way to tell which was a good family and which wasn't, and even if there was a way to tell, my still-developing-embryonic brain couldn't have possibly been able to figure it out.
  I am thankful to God for keeping us in unity, peace and love for soon-to-be 3 decades of being a happy family. For the provision and the protection especially when that bad guy tried at different times to snatch different members of my beautiful family, in Shania Twain 's words, we still together, still going strong and I have God to thank for that.
 Although, we have some odd ways of expressing our love and care for each other, my family is the most supportive family to wish for. I am grateful for my really cool brother, Princewill Osaigbovo , my sweet-spirited, drama-queen sister, Benedicta Osaigbovo , my over-sophisticated brother, Bob White, and my Jesus baby and baby of the house, Eugenia Osaigbovo who inspires me when I am slacking in spiritual matters.  Of course, my parents who are also teachers, preachers, counsellors, fashion police,intercessors(my mum especially), providers(God is the source). I nominate all the people mentioned in this post(my siblings n Shania) to take up this challenge and share what they are grateful to God for.

Day 3, Gratitude Challenge
   I am grateful for my salvation. He has chosen to call me from my darkness into His marvelous light and has leaked some of His nature and spirit into me. I am grateful because I am no longer just existing(I was grateful for my very  existence on the 1st day of this challenge) but I am living now that He's found me. Yes, He found me, I was too blind to find Him, He called me, I was too dumb to call out to Him, He pulled me close, I didn't have the strength to pull Him.
 I am grateful for a clearer understanding of His will and purpose for my life.I used to be so confused. Now, Its all coming together in bits like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. I am grateful for the sweet fellowship  and the warmth of His love which is like nothing I have ever felt before. I am grateful for places like The Glorious Fountain Ministries and  Avenue Baptist Church  where I go to get sharpened and all the men of God in my life especially Rev Igho Yegbeburu  and Rev Oke Odunayo who keep me straight.
  My nominees for today are my pastor friends: Rev Oluwole Ojo ,  Pst Adewale Jolade,Pst Sammy Damilola, Pst Donald Osanyade , Pst Donald Tiemo .I nominate all of my friends from The Glorious Fountain Ministries and Avenue Baptist Church to share with the world what God has done for them.

Day 2, Gratitude Challenge
 I am grateful for my country, Nigeria.In the ugly face of boko haramism, unemployment, corruption, kidnapping, bribery, injustice, i wud spare u more, there is still a lot to be thankful for. we being d undefeated giant of Africa is one, we not having natural disasters is another, coupled with d fact dat we just kicked ebola's ass n d so called world powers are seeking our advice on d issue. we just clocked 54yrs of ruling ourselves without tearing d nation apart(wit d way we were going at a point, i thought we wud split), soccerwise, we are doing well, having won d african cup n come 2nd in d women world cup. am i leaving something? yea, our sense of humour n resilience is amazing n am grateful for dat. i nominate my most trustworthy friends, Abraham Owie n Audu Ajayi to take up dis challenge.

Day 1, Gratitude Challenge
 I am grateful to God for my very existence. My highly imaginative mind(another reason to be grateful) has thought of where I would have been and what I would have been up to if I wasn't born. I have even formed idealogies about where unborn babies lived and what they do while waiting their turn to born . First, I thought they lived with God in Heaven and had number tags on them so that when a woman was about to conceive, God  picked the the next on the number line and planted it in the woman's  womb and the others would cry because they would miss their little friend and that ironically the new next-on-the-number-line would be happy because it knew that any time soon, a couple would get married, have their first night and bam! it wud be its turn to visit the world it has heard so much about, have new parents less awe-inspiring than God and have a new home just for a change.
 But then, as I drew closer to God, I got to understand that He doesn't waste  His resources by creating what He doesn't yet need. So here goes my newest idealogy, which by the way has to be a little correct: there are no unborn babies in heaven or anywhere else in the universe. They don't even know that they don't exist or that they might exist someday or when they would exist. God is still in the creation business. He creates a new human every time a woman conceives. And that's how he created me.
  There were probably a thousand and one sperm cells at my creation but I swam(even though I cant swim now) the fastest of them all to win first place.Small and tiny as I was at that time, with no gills and no life jacket on, that was a pretty impressive feat.Imagine, if I wasnt born. I wouldn't even know there was something called life and what it felt like to be living.I would be nameless, faceless and 'identity-less'.I wouldn't have posted this. But I am here now and pursuing my dreams. I hope to be as fast now as I was then and catch up with my dreams. Thank you, Lord for creating me.
 Last time, I checked this was a gratitude challenge and not a final year long essay so in closing, I would like to nominate my friend, Obuh Stevyn, who overrates my linguistic proficiency and who I was chatting with at the time of writing this, my boss John Nasamu, for being the friendiest boss ever and my co-author-to-be, Eseimieghan ThankGodfor being more than just a business partner.

Gratitude Challenge

Whatever the history of the gratitude challenge, I have officially succeeded in manipulating my long time classmate and friend, Adia Oro-ghene to nominate me to take up this challenge for 3 reasons:1) i luv a gud challenge as much as i luv you, yes you. 2) trust vinny not to pass on an opportunity to write 3) who goes wrong with gratitude, anyway? Enough said already, let's get started on my next post.