Nice to meet you. My name is Nneka, mom of one living in Windsor, Ontario. I enjoy reading a lot and have decided to try my hand at writing. Hoping to better my skills and perfect my writing skills. I hope you enjoy my writing
Letter of a Mum to the World
Roevwade I remember my pregnancy. It was the scariest day of my life. I was convinced I was going to die. Why wouldn’t I be since my mother had died during her third childbirth? Ever since I found out I was pregnant for my husband, I had been out of my mind with happiness and dread. It was what we both wanted but with the news came a kind of sickness I had never experienced. I went from weighing a decent 70kg to 59 before I got to the 15th week of my pregnancy. I couldn’t keep anything down.
I Think My Mum Killed Me
Would I be too wicked if I accuse my mother of killing me? Would I be going too far? Let me know what you think I remember very clearly word for word the conversation I had with my mother when I brought to her attention that my husband of 6 months was beating me every chance he gets. Her first question threw me off but it was only the beginning.
You would have a marvelling laugh if you were here right now at my expense at the kind of odd luck I have. I would also stake my life that if you had the magical ability to turn back the hands of time and repair damages done by it, you would do so in a blink of an eye but alas, you are not here and soon, neither will I.
Am I the asshole for insisting we put my 8-month-old baby in a French immersion daycare?
Am I the asshole for insisting we put my 8-month-old baby in a French immersion daycare? I, 30 years old female insisted to put my son, 8 months old in a French immersion daycare even though my husband, 38 old male thinks it is not important that we raise him bilingual. My husband is a skilled worker and a high school graduate while I am a teacher who studied the English language and who English is her second language. This baby, let’s call him Kai, is our first child and he is always fighting me about every little decision and seems to think he knows best about everything.
What Does Freedom Mean to me?
What Does Freedom Mean to me? Let me rephrase that opener. What does air mean to me? What does food mean to me? What does happiness mean to me? They all have the same answer. It means everything to me. you might as well ask me what would I do for to leave without freedom is to wait on death to happen upon you and hope he is kinder than bondage. I cannot explain in exact terms what means to me is but I know I could never give it for all the money in the world. You know why that is because I have been trapped. I have been helpless, I have been crazy with a desperation that made me bite my nails until I tasted blood. You ask what freedom is. It is the ability to know who you are and know with all heavenly conviction that you are not owned by anyone. Your word is our word and your truth is never crafted. It is the simple ability to be for being sake and for nothing else.
Black With a Pinch of Salt
Black with a pinch of salt He is back again, the same guy from last week who liked his coffee black with a pinch of salt. It was the strangest order of coffee I have ever had to make since I started working as a coffee barrister. Funny enough, the order was the hardest because I had to discover where we kept the salt in the café kitchen. I obviously have a crush on him but who wouldn’t with the way God made him. Today, however, he was in with a young lady who had moons in her eyes when she looked at him.
death by spiders
Death by spiders If I told you to predict the end of the Human race, would it ever occur to you to include mutated spider infestation? Would you everything arise that spreadsheet of spiders would emerge to wipe out more than half of the worlds population interest one year? But that’s exactly what happened five years ago. The spiders were first scene in Australia when a group of a killer just discovered the remains of some ancient cat. They thought the cats must have been there along with the dinosaurs but what they didn’t know it was that within the bones of the remains were unknown species of spiders white in colour that has a colony within the bones of the cat. When the bones was taken from the discovery sites to US a for a closer inspection, just still unnoticed colony of spiders were ultimately moved across the continent.
HE MOVES THE CITY FOR HER
The first day I noticed was on a Tuesday after a heavy snowfall. I lived two blocks from her apartment. Our street wasn't close to the highway. There was no reason why the snowplough would go through it just minutes after the snowfall. I have lived in this street since I was born and not once has the street been ploughed after a snowfall. It only got done if Kane was filling up to it since he has a snowplough attached to the monster he called a truck. He also worked for the city in clearing the snow. I was pleasantly surprised when the snowplough started frequenting our street right after every snowfall. It was as if they couldn’t wait for the last snow to drop before they are out and out, taking a detour from the highway to come to clear our street and the surrounding one. Frankly, no one from our area has any complaints against the mayor and the city council, we haven’t had to for the past three years, since she moved into Kamsi Street.
I DON'T EAT DOGS
I Don’t Eat Dogs Growing up, I wasn’t aware that one could have a dog as a pet, a dog you treat as a family who isn’t smelly or out to take a bite out of your behind. I wasn’t raised like that. The first memory I have of a dog was at six-year-old. I encountered the dog on the way back from school. It had flies all over his face, perching on parts of his face and his nose was disgustingly wet. It looked at me and snarled, showing his gnarly teeth and slobber. I had been told by many to run away from dogs and if the dog runs after you, throw a hand a handful of sand or stone at the dog and it would let you go. I wasn’t tempted to pet the dog or take a single breath or step towards it. As he snarled at me, my survival instinct kicked and I took off running. Did he run after like the stories said it would? Of course, it did, the stories were of the same dog. I did throw stones at it as I was directed but it didn’t stop. I ran until I soon came across a bigger adult who literary yelled at the dog to go away then advised me to grab a big stick to poke him with in case he decided to come back.
Letter to my African Mum
Hello Mummy, I have a lot of memories of life with you, life lessons from you, highly biased parables and so much more. It goes without saying that some of them were rather traumatizing but I believe that you did your best by and all your children. I have three very distinctive memories that stick out from my childhood. One of them was how I had managed to lose my younger sister and let her get kidnapped. The finer details of the event might be blurred with age as I was about eleven then but I remember that day clearly. It was one of those strange ladies that we usually saw around the neighbourhood but never really paid attention to. On this very day, I had lost track of my younger sister, Mary. I was supposed to take her with me from school to home which was a simple task but I somehow managed to botch. Mary was only ten months old.
BABY WITH THE GOOD BACK
BABY WITH THE GOOD BACK “Don’t you think we should stop now?” asked Tochi as he watched his father sharpen his arrow in preparation for another episode of hunting. They already have three rabbits, a pheasant and one deer. He knew it was enough to trade on and live off until the next hunting in four days. Besides, it was getting dark.