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I went for a job interview at a school not too far from where I live a few years ago. I wanted this job with all my might. The initial interview and the written test were all too easy for me. The last stage was to face the panellists. I prepared, making sure I left no stone unturned.

As expected, I arrived at the school just before lunchtime. When it was time, I walked calmly into the makeshift room for my interview, said my pleasantries, chinned up all ready for the battle.

I was well composed as the interrogation began…


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While driving through the dark cold road leading to my destination that Friday evening, I listened to the shrieking laughter of the presenter on my car transmitter. Through the dark evening, the voices of this presenter and her callers kept me company amidst flashes of lights and huffing of cars passing by.

For me, the journey was about 15 miles away from home, but the journey this radio presenter took her listeners was far behind; it was way back into the past years.

She started the show with talks about her younger days. Talking about the fun she had as…


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Over the years, I have tried perfecting the game of school shopping but nothing worked. I have kind of gotten used to the comfort of pushing school shopping to the last line at the bottom of my to-do list.

The truth is I don’t enjoy shopping. Well, I mean offline shopping. And I don’t think I should be blamed for this. Shopping with three children of different ages and tastes was never a fun activity.

However, part of what I gained during the six months lockdown was self-awareness. Amidst gardening and growing our own vegetables I rediscovered my self-worth, my…


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I wondered who the caller was when my phone’s ringtone pierced through the air that sunny morning. After the usual pleasantries, my sister went straight to the point. Part of the reason she called was to tell me about the demise of an old auntie and the funeral arrangements.

As she related the tales that surrounded my aunt’s life and death I couldn’t help myself. I half-listened half-thinking of the last time I saw my aunt.

The aunt in question was a distant cousin to my father. I grew up with dozens of aunts and uncles whole spaces on my…


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Image of someone special to Author.

There was something about my childhood that I often ponder on: how happy I was. I didn’t know how this worked, food wasn’t in abundance and I didn’t have the luxury my children have today but I had a very happy and fulfilled childhood. I didn’t have a variety to choose from. Basic food, clothing, free air, paid water, lousy and nosy neighbours were all part of my happiness. The yearly trips to the countryside to see my grandmother and my cousins constituted my childhood happiness.

Quite often I listened to the dreams of adults around me, but they were…


…so what’s all the fuss about?

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Image of the Author’s niece

I came from a culture that treats visitors with respect. We give foreigners in my home country the opportunities to strive. However, I was deluded, absolved with this notion that such practise was common in every part of the world. Oblivious of the fact that every man has his rules.

Within a few weeks in England, I made a new friend. Jessica was the window into which I viewed the new world I found myself a decade and a half years ago. She introduced me to the world of food, culture and literature of Great Britain. I became conversant with…


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I sat down to watch one of Disney’s all-time blockbuster Aladdin with the kids. As we watched, a line from the lyric stuck to me. Mind you, this wasn’t my first time seeing Aladdin, but somehow my head wove around the words and I was lost in its powerful hemispheral.

As Aladdin and his newly found love explored the beauty of nature on the magic carpet gasping in the freedom they just discovered, I wondered what it really means to let your heart decides. Let your heart decides.

Hear me out, I wasn’t talking about the butterfly the wretched Aladdin…


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A few days ago, I got fixated on an article, it must have been the topic that got me hooked, I sank deeply in the softness of my pillow savaging the pleasure this good piece offered.

At the end of this article, I became confused. Not because the writing wasn’t good enough. No. It was one of the best writing I read in weeks. However, I was troubled with the question the writer threw at me at the end.

I have always known what I wanted in life, or so I thought. Things don’t usually land on my plate, somehow…


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I was one of the very few who didn’t take Coronavirus seriously. It wasn’t something I wanted to hear about nor know the number of victims it had consumed. With all the madness of panic buying, I stayed calm scoffing at people excessiveness.

About three weeks ago, the reality of the situation we are in struck harder when I arrived at my local supermarket (eight in the morning) and found nowhere to park.

I returned home empty-handed. An empty cabinet stared at me. We had run out of essentials. I sat down hopelessly regretting my decision not to stuck up.


... and so are you.

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Photo by Etty Fidele on Unsplash

I am not that special and this is a reality. I am part of the zillions of human being living on Planet Earth. It’s glaring I breathe in the same air and blood runs through my vein. I eat food grown in the soil of this planet and drink from the body of waters which surround it.

Clearly, I am not a special specie the world is yet to discover. I communicate through speech, gesture and signs. I am a mother like loads of various women from various cultures and background.

I Am No Special Than You

I am not…

Sherryfah2

A writer. An aspiring author. Mother. Nature Enthusiast. Lives in the U.K.

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