There’s Still Time to Join Writing 101!

The Daily Post

The next Blogging U. challenge, Writing 101, kicks off Monday — so if you’ve been thinking about registering, you’ve still got a few more days to hop off the fence and sign on!

Writing 101: Building a Blogging Habit is a write-every-day challenge designed to help you create a writing habit, publish posts that mesh with your blog’s focus, and push you a bit as a writer. It’s also a great way to make new friends and find new favorite reads. All bloggers are welcome, whether you use, are self-hosted, or use another platform entirely.

Here’s how it works:

  • We’ll post a new writing assignment just for Writing 101 each weekday in June on The Daily Post. Assignments will publish at 10:00 AM EST (14:00 PM GMT). You can follow The Daily Post to get assignment notifications.
  • There are no weekend assignments — you’re free to expand…

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Futures past.

As a kid, what did I want to be when I grew up? How close or far am I from that vision?

What I wanted to be?

A teacher…

Dearest mom was one and what nobler path to thread than hers? What greater inspiration for a life career than hers?

Teacher are pretty, graceful, knowledgeable, patiently imparting the much needed knowledge into the future leaders entrusted into their care.

Teachers are compassionate, often not rewarded enough for their labors but not to worry…the great reward awaits in heaven.

I would be a pretty little teacher shaping lives while cruising in my Volkswagen beetle. No offense, mom. (that beetle was equivalent to Hummer jeep in my young eyes)

…then a Banker.

She would stroll by every morning impeccably dressed in pretty ‘rainbowy’ clothes.

She’s without spot or blemish in an eight year old’s mind. The clothes would match her shoes, every little detail well coordinated…down to the umbrella shielding her pretty head from the rains and rays.

Oh, what a noble profession to aspire to?

I would become a banker and have all the pretty clothes in the world.

…then a medical doctor.

Gazing up at the nice and sweet white clad young man tending my bandaged left eye got me hooked.

Doctors are always impeccably dressed, nice, knowledgeable and professional. The fact that my ‘nice and sweet white clad young man’ was altogether handsome got me totally enraptured with the clinical discipline.

What other profession commands respect as much as the white-clad clan? Never mind that we have blue-clad and green-clad and all sorts of clad doctors now.

I would also have the bonus of being the savior of the universe.

A medical doctor, wearing white all day long I would be.

….then a writer.

I love me all the writers series from mom’s library.

So rich and so captivating in all their story telling.

What a legacy to bestow upon mankind, leaving forever words inscribed on marble hearts.

A writer I will become.


Then fate came to the rescue of a confused young mind.

Firstly got an opportunity to tow the accounting line but tried as I might, I Just couldn’t get the hang of it and I rightly swerved into the engineering line after a month of so struggling with book-keeping.

Graduating as an electrical electronics technologist, the first available job that came my way after NYSC was… teaching!

Long after I had forgotten that childhood dream.

Taught junior class for three hellish months and couldn’t get away fast enough from it all.

Fate to the rescue again as I secured a better paying job as an electrical engineering technologist. Oh bliss.

Totally forgotten my love for the white-clad profession….but then fate again intervened…and I got married to a medical doctor who is busy trying to save the world right now, one life at a time.

And I am still a teacher, will forever be. Running after two young ones all day long, instructing on what’s right and wrong, tackling endless questions and home-works.

And I am forever a writer, preserving my thoughts in the eternal ink of time. Inscribed in space to float until eternity.

Yes, I am living the dream. Neither far nor close. But closer than breath.

What would I say to my 10year old self, today?

It doesn’t have to be one or two or three dreams…you can be all of them at the same time or at different times, just take it slow and keep it real.

Who says I cannot be all I wanted to be or all I dream t of becoming? Who says I could only be one thing at a time?

I ask me now…does it really matter what I wanted to be when I grew up seeing as I am forever growing and the home stretch is still decades away?

And does it matter how near or how far to those carefully crafted dreams I am?

To my growing self,It matters less how far away or how near…the icing is in being giddy with happiness off-course, midway or wherever I am on the journey…savoring the joy of the endless possibilities stretched out before me.

Want to read more on Future Past? Check

Hope, come up on here

Hope, where would you rather go?

To the land of abundance untold

Or to the haven of the low?

Come up on here to warm the hand so cold.


Hope, what color would you rather be?

White, they say is for purity never to part

How about green the hue of life we daily see?

Come up on here and be blue to fill this heart.


Hope, in what shape would you rather reside?

How about a triangle with angles so sharp?

Or a diamond which a girl would never despise?

Come up on here and be a circle to snuggle inside.

Dark Hope (1)

I dropped my bag, slowly expelled the pocket of air that had gotten trapped in my lungs through my nostrils as soon as I set my feet into the big compound.

Here was freedom at last. Finally, the land is green; my dreams are coming true –one at a time.

The bright sunny Sunday afternoon slowly but surely giving way to a warm evening, the big round sun in all its glory gradually embracing the scarlet drape that would enshroud it till day break.

Time was 4.30pm and I had just moved into my own apartment.

I looked around me drinking in every detail of the tiny room that would be my living room, mine to do with as I please and I exhaled again in gratitude.

Thank goodness I got Tony to help out with adding a fresh coat paint to the walls two weeks ago. Even now, the faint smell of fresh paint still pervades the room as I mentally started redecorating the room to suit my taste.

I had literally blackmailed dad into paying for a 3 months interior decorating management course at DeGauze Academy and I definitely was looking forward to putting the knowledge acquired to good use in my new cozy apartment.

And maybe, I would get to snag the much sought after deal of decorating Dr. William’s new office suite.

And maybe I would bump into Charles, again.

Dr. Williams is dad’s long-time friend and our trusted family physician. To him we take all the petty and not so petty symptoms and he professionally always got us back in tick tock shape.

And the icing on the cake? He is Charles’ dad too.

Charles, sweet Charles. His dark skin reminded me always of chocolate, his lips luscious, always with a hint of pink wetness contrasting sharply with the dark shade of his skin but combine together so well to give him a unique appeal. His broad chest supported on both sides by the rippling muscles of his strong arms always have my imaginations running wide. Always.

When he speaks, his rich baritone voice resonates ever so softly, his dark cheek creasing with dimples beautifully; how I always long to trace the seeming soft contours ever so slightly with my wandering fingers. And then my finger could touch the pink softness of his lips and then…

Charles, the object of my fantasy for as far back as I can remember.

We had met first at his graduation party, even though the brief ten seconds eye contact with the barely audible coy conversation could hardly be classified as meeting. 

He just graduated with first class honors in Civil Engineering from the University of Lagos and was scheduled to proceed on a Masters degree course in the United Kingdom. His proud dad had thought it right to celebrate his success by inviting over a couple of close friends and family for a cocktail party.
I was a lanky and bashful teenager of over-protective middle class parents.
Dad and Mum had dragged my tired frame with them on a sunny weekend to go visit Dr. Williams and who was I to say no.

There I was trying to melt into the background, cowering behind dad when the Knight walked in!

My eyes, and every other pair of eyes in the room for that matter shifted to the brilliant celebrant.

He made his way slowly but surely through the small crowd that had gathered in the expansive lounge, smiling brightly, enduring the back slaps and firm handshakes.

And I trailed him with my eyes, taking in the full frame of his 6”+  frame and absorbing every detail of his seemingly handcrafted face. In a moment, I took in the high forehead, wrinkled by apparently smiling so much in the course of one day, his bright and sparkling eyes deeply set in his forehead, his full luscious lips with the tongue darting in and out like a lizard sneaking in and out of its abode, chanting barely audible thanks, his strong arms encased in the short sleeved striped shirt. Every detail taken in.


When did he get to my part of the room?

My eyes darted upwards and centred on his lips. Not by choice but because my head just about came up to his lips. And I wondered what it would feel to be lost in the warmth of his beautiful inviting lips. 

I wondered what having my first kiss with him would be like. Would it be slow and satisfying or fast and briefly lacking in depth like I had read about in some of my novels?

And I wonder what Debby, my best friend and superior in romantic alliances would have to say about this.

“Hi”. He repeated again slowly bringing up his arm from his side and uncurling his fingers to stretch out his hands towards me.

I gulped rapidly several times in quick succession and managed to croak a response.


The scent of his aftershave assailed my nostrils, curling itself overpoweringly around my head, threatening to drown me.

What is happening to me?

I felt hot and cold alternating between the two sensations and the air became suffocating all of a sudden, I had to escape before I made a greater fool of myself.


My eyes darted frantically around me searching for the nearest escape route; I took two steps backwards still looking at the outstretched hand like one would regard a weapon. Up to his face. His deep eyes probingly watching with a mixture of amusement and confusion.

I felt stupid at having been caught off guard and he must had felt my acute confusion too as he wasted no time in moving on to the next guest.

“Sweetheart, are you ok?” Mum asked. You look pale.

“I’m fine mum, just need some fresh air. Do you mind if I stepped out to the briefly?”

“Its alright dear, go on but don’t wander away from the compound.”

“Alright mum.”


They bully

They jump

They scream

They settle down


I bury my head deep in the laptop

Pretending to be too engrossed

To notice the antics

That robs of the silence within


Though I yearn to be me

And crave time for personal antics

Yet nothing would make me part

With these ones I call MINE.






I go all out for my dream

The words fill me to the brim

I turn inwards for help

To give voice to my yelp


No waiting, no tarrying

Trudging on without caring

For the day is far spent

To pause or relent


On to the next day when the call of the rooster

Always throws up a new booster

The dawn of a bright new day with hope

Accompanying new abilities to cope


The time is now here

To come forth and care

Shine brighter than your dream

To create impact on your whim

I Own Up…Now

Oh yes, I own up, and now!


Not a ‘writer’ but love to write

Not a ‘reader’ but love to read;

Not one given to spite

I am here to stay,

And work on my dreams.


To bring old and new writers together

Create a virtual hub;

Where all sit round and ponder

With room for a tub

Just one of my dreams.


Reviewing works and life alike

Warm tea teasing friendly lips;

Lively gales taking a hike

Unabashed words from the deeps

Are they going to remain dreams?


Maybe now is not the time.

Maybe my skills to sharpen first

Need not spare a dime

Satiating this lingering thirst

Come true, will my dreams.