Precious’ Corner

Posts

PART 1: “Of Worship, Wahala & Little Miss Red Rose – My Lagos Weekend Begins”

Dearest Gentle Reader, Long time no blog post, innit? Do I have a logical excuse? Absolutely not. Do I miss y’all? 100%! Because nobody understands my rants like you do. Anyway, welcome to today’s episode of Yapology! So, Friday through Monday was one wild ride. I travelled down to Lagos for a God-filled weekend and yes, it was fun-filled too… well, until Monday 😂😭 The plan looked simple on paper: Get my document from school (for context, I’m an alumna of Mountain Top University), attend Outpouring on same Friday evening, PMCH on Saturday (I’m an MFM girlie through and through), church on Sunday morning, Hallelujah Festival Sunday evening, and head home Monday. Emphasis on “looked simple.”😂😂 Friday : Outpouring Vibes & Little Miss Red Rose 😭 Friday morning, I was meant to collect my document from school. Instead, I collected premium stories . One story led to another until I realized time had really gone, an...

Blogversary: 12 Months of Writing, Growing, and Connecting

On 12th August 2024 , I hit the publish button for the very first time. I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to do with this platform 🤔 All I knew was that I had thoughts in my head and maybe this was the place to finally let them out. I thought it would just be me ranting into the void. But it turned into so much more. It became a community of people who get me , who understand where I’m coming from, who read my words and say, “exactlyyyyy, I feel this too.” 💛 From “Just Rants” to Reaching Lives 🌍 In the past year, my posts have made people cry, laugh, and whisper to themselves, “Oh, I needed to hear this today.” That’s when I realized I wasn’t just ranting as I thought. I was filling voids. I was reaching lives. 24 blog posts later, this little corner of the internet has reached readers across several nations of the world 🌎 Something I honestly never imagined when I started. This blog has been my safe space, my creative outlet, and the one place where I g...

My Father, the Maths Guru and Softest Hard Guy ✨👨🏾‍🏫❤️

If you’ve ever met my dad, you’ll understand why “strong” doesn’t quite cut it. Man is literally built different. 💪🏾 He’s a man living with a disability, but funny thing is — you’d never notice. Not because he hides it, but because he moves like someone who refuses to be boxed by it. 📦❌ Growing up, I never saw a “disabled man.” I just saw my daddy — showing up, providing, fixing things, being everyone's go-to human. Able in every way that mattered. 💯 He doesn’t like tears. Especially not from his girls. 😢 Just hint at crying, and he’s ready to buy the moon and add small change on top. 🌕🛍️ Sometimes we used it to our advantage (please don’t judge us 😭😂). Also — and I say this with my full chest — my daddy cannot stand to see my hair undone. 😩🧵 You’d think it physically pained him. The man will literally chase me out of the house to go get my hair braided. 🚪🏃🏾‍♀️ “No child of mine should be walking around like this,” he’ll say, like I comm...

This Can’t Be Love, It Hurts Too Much

Dearest gentle reader (even if not all of you are actually gentle) 😂, Missed me and my writings? Well… I missed y’all too! 🥹🥺 I miss y’all reading my blog posts and dropping your sweet sweet feedbacks, you know, the kind that makes my heart do a JimJim (a little happy dance 😂)💃🏽✨ So yes, I’ve been away for a while 🫣 Life was life-ing ( by now you’re probably very used to this line), but in those weeks of silence, guess what? I learnt a LOTTTT. And because I’m not selfish (even though I could be sometimes 😅), I’m here to share one of those goldennnn lessons with you. Today’s rant? Love. Yes, yes… I know. Love again?! 😂😂 But this one hit differently. Okay let’s be serious Let me ask you something real quick. How do you say you love someone, like truly love them and still hurt them over and over again? 🥺 How do you do something you know will break them, yet still go ahead because, "oh of course, she’ll forgi...

In Loving Memory of Pappy

I finally want to talk about it. I miss you. Always. If you asked me how I felt the morning it happened, I’d probably say “worried,” but if you asked me deeper, I’d say my soul disconnected from my body halfway through a journey I wish I never took. It was a Sunday. I had gone to church—dressed, focused, minding my business—when I got a call from home: “Come home.” That was it. No panic, no drama, but something in me stirred. Days before, daddy hadn’t been feeling too strong, so I assumed maybe it was that. I packed up and started the journey back. About an hour and a half. Halfway through, boredom made me scroll through Facebook—and that’s where my world started to tilt. His photo. A classmate’s post. “RIP.” At first, I was just pissed. Like, seriously? I called him immediately, ready to drag him for not telling his friends to chill with that kind of joke. He didn’t pick up. I remember thinking, maybe UNIOSUN’s light is out again , because he always had his pho...

NYSC and Identity: Who Are You Without Everything Familiar?

— Part 2 of the NYSC + Faith Series Let’s be honest: NYSC is that one thing you know is coming , but when it finally lands? It slaps harder than NEPA taking light mid-braiding session. 💀 One minute you’re chilling, scrolling TikTok, eating Gala in peace... the next? “Upload your green card.” “Buy white-on-white.” “Print your call-up letter.” Like huh?? I just blinked! 😭 My whole room turned into Lagos traffic. My mum and I are fighting over what bag I should carry (of course she wants to pack my whole village 😒 ), and somehow I’m up by 2AM googling “How to survive camp with a sensitive stomach” because yeah... your girl has one. If you know, you KNOW . 😩 And nobody warned me that NYSC comes with identity crisis as part of the starter pack. Once that call-up letter drops, everything you know just vanishes. Your food? 🥲 Gone. Your routine? 🚮 In the bin. Your peace of mind? Oya, collect shege . Next thing I know, I’m dragging cooler like I’m the camp caterer, ro...