VESSEL

She had kept up her end of the promise with the picture of Ziba her mother had given her, but time was running out. The holidays were coming up, and she knew she had let Mama Yola down. Their last conversation had left Mama Yola sad and bothered, while she had reassured her that God would not forget His own. She took a shortcut from the Agriculture Department to get to Life Science and then turned abruptly to cross the road. A car blared in anger, and she raised her hand to apologise as it sped past. Her focus shifted back to the road as her shoulder gently brushed against another lady.  She hurried to the other side and continued brooding. She hated disappointing her mum, but she also felt a knot of worry, what if Ziba rejected her offering of sisterhood? Amena sighed as she entered her borrowed course hall, the last one before the school holidays commenced. Deep down, she also didn’t want to extend the friendship; she was already known by a lot of people she hadn’t planned for. “...

  Did I ever tell my Sunny Wednesdays and Vessel Blog readers that I’m an ambivert? I am. And it was actually my husband who helped me understand the word while we were courting. An ambivert is someone who naturally balances traits of both introverts and extroverts, comfortable in social spaces, and equally comfortable in solitude. So last Saturday, I decided to step out of my comfort zone, put on my slay corporate mama style, and attend: ELEVATE 1.0 – RESTED, RICH & RESTORED: A Modern Woman’s Guide to Balance. It was held both onsite and online, and I was privileged to be among the 25 physical women selected to attend the live event. The Slay Before the Slay 😌 The convener, Mrs. Adetutu Ogunsanwo (Boss Lady Global), a full slay yummy mummy had us in a community group. I was thanking God there was no dress code… only to be shocked 😭 She didn’t just pick a dress code, she also shared style inspiration pictures. As the non-slay community babe that I am daily trying to escape f...

The University of Tenja was made up mostly of children from neighbouring villages, with only a handful of students who had travelled in from faraway places. Amena often wondered what would make anyone journey so far from civilisation just to attend the University of Tenja. For people like her, children of the surrounding villages, Gumba Village and Tenja had always been their only access to education. Now that Gumba Village lay in ruins, the younger children had been left without a place to receive even their most basic schooling. She knew her mother would already be searching for solutions, thinking of ways to help the villages secure a place where the children could read, learn, and write. That burden was no small feat, and it made Mama Yola even more recognisable, so recognisable that Amena found it impossible to blend into a school she had hoped to quietly disappear into. Questions followed her everywhere. “You look like Mama Yola. Are you Mama Yola’s daughter?” “Are you from the R...

Mena remembered the exact moment Ziba went stone-cold during Prof. Linda’s History class. T he memory returned as she rubbed face cream into her skin, standing before the mirror, preparing for bed.  Apart from Papa—who she was always on calls with, Ziba was the only second person she truly connected with. Papa used to say, “Choose your friends first before they choose you.” I wish the part where Ziba chooses me comes sooner, she thought. S he wondered why Ziba had reacted that way to a historical event. It had felt personal, or so she thought.  Shrugging off the thought, she reminded herself that she and Ziba were not on that level of friendship to ask such questions. She heaved a sigh, finished her night routine, whispered her prayers, and let the night breeze do its quiet magic. Ziba did not have the luxury of quiet. S he fumed in her room, hurling her textbooks at the wall. She needed somewhere to pour her anger, and for now, her books bore the weight of it. Her phone ...

 “God is always faithful. I am glad I know He can be trusted,” Felicia smiled, revealing that charming gap tooth that had caught Bro. Wale’s attention from the start. “If Bro. Wale catch that smile, ehen?” Amena laughed, watching Felicia’s cheeks bloom into a bright, warm colour. She always knew how to make her friend shine. “Leave me joor. Will I see you at the next fellowship meeting?” Felicia asked, joy radiating as she held Amena’s hand. “Sure,” Amena replied softly, a small smile tugging at her lips. Felicia beamed, her energy infectious. Amena watched her, quietly fascinated by how the love for fellowship seemed to fill Felicia with life. They were neighbours in what they jokingly called the best off-campus building. Their bond had grown from shared frustrations; no water, flickering lights, the struggle for transport to the university, but more importantly, they were united in their love for God. Amena knew Felicia genuinely believed she was deeply rooted in Christ. What Fe...

“These texts are brutal. I wonder how you do it,”  she said, her eyes holding a trace of amusement at how her friend calmly worked through the tons of ‘little’ assignments, as Prof. Wale liked to call them. Ziba smiled. “I’m not a bookworm, oh. I just dedicate myself to it, that’s all. It keeps my mind engaged.” She had noticed how Mena had gradually infused herself into her life, too smoothly, too easily. Ziba hated it, yet she did not know how to gently wade her off. Over the next couple of days, she deliberately sat far off in class, but Mena always managed to fish her out. Today was one of those days. “When will you agree to have lunch with me, na? I know a nice buka on campus,” Mena smiled. She was genuinely intrigued by the dedication Ziba gave to her studies, and she knew she needed a fraction of that discipline to ace her grades. Ziba smiled back. “Soon. I will agree soon.” Mena had a sixth sense, she knew she wasn’t entirely welcome in Ziba’s space, but she also wasn’t com...