Musings of an average girl

Fate and destiny It’s always been said that fate is a fickle mistress, as it changes sides all the time. It makes you question whether or not ‘fate’ even exists.  Destiny on the other hand is said to never change, and that its only delayed. In that sense is it a man’s fate to have his destiny delayed? Or he just did not work hard enough? As Africans we are always blaming fate, destiny, witches, wizards or a supernatural being for our woes or gains. If things go well, its our destiny, God has done us well, God has blessed the works of our hands. But in the event of things not working out, it is surely the hand work of witches, wizards, or bad fate. We never imagine that maybe, there were no works of hands for God to bless, or that our attitude might be a contributor to the damnable fate. This isn’t a story, it’s just me musing. I’m wondering to what extent the fates affect our lives. How strong is destiny in the face of laziness and refusal to push forward?   How po...

THE MAN AND THE MAN IN THE PICTURE He was not the type you could refer to as short, but if you referred to him as that tall man, you get the side eye.   He had just managed to be tall enough to not be short, but not tall enough to be tall. He had a pleasant face, sculpted lips, cheekbones to die for, broad shoulders, powerful thighs, like he was really into sports and biceps that screamed to be felt. He was in that skin tone that was neither fair nor dark. He was not dark enough to be dark or chocolate, and yet not light enough to be fair. Now with these averages, average height, average skin color , it may have been easy to think that he was an average looking man. But he was saved with having very intense and expressive dark eyes that seemed to see into the innermost part of your soul. When he was angry, they inspired fear and when he was happy, when those eyes landed on you, they made one feel joyous for no apparent reason. Sex appeal dripped from his every pore, i...

CHANGED DREAMS There was a little settlement just by the roadside on your way to the oil city, with most of its occupants on the right side of the express way and only a few on the other side. It was a small town with than 30,000 persons.   A town where everybody knew everybody,   on death affected everybody and one birth was everyone’s joy. A close knit community with shared joys and sorrows. But Barbara was never satisfied with the small town life. The world is large and she couldn’t understand how she was to waste away her existence in a small town where nothing new happened. Every marriage ceremony was the same, every Sunday she saw the same faces except for the yuletide season when sons and daughters living in cities and outside the country came home. She wanted out, and she wanted it now! She felt suffocated. She went to university and came back home awaiting national service. As luck would have it, she was posted to one of the largest, busiest cities in th...