Chika Jonah Writes

Category: Inspiration

  • How being broke and hungry can transform your life

    After faking a straight face for thirty minutes, Ann couldn’t take it anymore and bursted into laughter. She almost fell on the floor laughing so hard from hearing my story. It was obvious she felt pity for me but couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

    So I thought to share it with you too.

    I just left NYSC camp. In a new environment, not knowing anywhere and anyone. I went straight to NCCF house (a home for new call members to stay, grow their spiritual life and bond with other Christians as well) and lived there for a week while I searched for a place to stay. I needed my privacy and space.

    After a long search I finally found a new and clean self contain apartment in a cool and coordinated area, where all the big and elite personnel’s of Jalingo, Taraba state lived. Exactly what I wanted.

    I moved in bought the basic necessities. Matrass first, then a mini shelf for my books and beverages, toiletries and food stuffs. I asked mummy to send pots and stove and containers from home which she eventually did. I started going to my PPA which was close by and began searching for a Job. I needed more to survive.

    Three weeks later I was Broke

    I used my last fifty naira to buy water for cleaning and bathing.

    I had nothing else on me. No change no money no nothing.

    I didn’t know how I was going to survive the next couple of days before we received our allowance.

    I just stayed in my room.

    That day, my fellow call member, friend and neighbor called me out to gist like we normally did every evening

    “Babe how far”. He asked

    “I dey oh”. I replied. And we talked about other things.

    “Babe, please help me with Maggi and red oil?” He pleaded. I just stared at him not knowing how to tell him that the Chika that cooked in a big pot every evening to share with her friends and students had nothing except for a full pack of salt and matches laughs

    “Guy sorry, I don’t have again. Its finished”. I told him and made an excuse to go back inside.

    “If only this guy knew that I hadn’t tasted anything all day he wouldn’t be asking me for anything. He can take salt if he wants”. I muttered to myself and forced myself to sleep for the third time that day.

    I woke up the next day with angry worms, grumbling stomach and a tired body. Plus today was not the day I embarrassed my generation so I had a plan.
    I had my bath, dressed my bed, locked my empty kitchen, locked the front door, closed the windows and curtains and jumped right back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. laughs

    Sounds weird right? Don’t worry.

    The idea was to make sure no one knew I was home. And it worked.

    Few minutes later I heard a knock on the door but I didn’t answer. I rolled myself to the far end of the bed so that no one would see my shadow even by chance.

    “I don’t think she is around, even the door and windows are both closed. Let’s go”. they said as they went back. I heard them leave and was relieved.

    Of all the ways to die, I’m I going to die of hunger? I murmured. I wanted to cry but how can I cry because of hunger so I held it back

    “God please, today is the day you send my divine helper”, I prayed hoping for a miracle, “you rained manner from heaven for the Israelites, please just send two sachet of pure water for me”. I begged clutching my stomach.

    I slept off and woke up in the evening hoping to see a miracle but I was disappointed. In few hours I was going into the next day without eating. So this is what poverty feels like I pondered.

    I left the bed and changed into my one of my black shorts. I couldn’t endure the heat and suffocation coupled with my predicament so I decided to go out.

    If I was going to die then its better to die where people would see me and save me on time than dying alone and isolated in my room.

    I sat outside and stared at the clouds for so long that it was dark before I realized I was in that position for more than an hour.

    I began walking around the compound with my hands inside my back pockets and when I was around my neighbors backyard I felt something like paper in my pocket and sighed. “Typical Chika, Always leaving pieces of paper everywhere”. I hissed, brought out the paper, raised my hand to throw it away when a letter flashed before my eyes. I stopped and quickly opened my palm to see the paper properly and to my greatest surprise it was a five hundred naira note.

    I froze instantly and just stared at it as a lone tear fell on my cheek.

    “Oh my God”. I whispered. The next thing I knew I was jumping

    “Its a Miracle”, I screamed running round the compound in excitement, “I am rich! I am rich. Its a miracle. Thank you Jesus”. I continued shouting and all the neighbors came out shocked to see me shouting like a mad woman.

    I ran to the first one “Megida its a miracle”. And to the second one “Sir you won’t believe this. I’m rich”. He simply smiled at me.
    My friends asked me if I was okay and I told them I was more than okay. And ran out like a mad woman forgetting to lock my room.

    Till this day I still can’t believe how I ran from my house to the shop without fainting on the road. A mere five hundred naira note had given me the strength of a lion. I knew then that a hungry man was a poor man. And I never wanted to feel that way again.

    The first thing I bought was a bag of pure water (150 naira). And I drank from it immediately I bought it. Then I also got;

    Bread (150)
    Milk and Milo (80)
    2 indomie (100)
    Pepper (20)

    And that was how the money finished. The bread was big enough for a two time meal. So I had one meal everyday for the next three days. That was enough for me.

    God came through for me by making me put my hands in my pocket or else I wouldn’t have known that I had something left. From that day I believed in miracles. And decided I’ll never experience that in my life again. It was horrible.

    Not to brag but I left NYSC with something close to three hundred thousand for someone who was starved for almost three days in a strange land with no one. And till date I have never been totally broke.

    Moral of the story – Don’t stop believing. God always shows up. Sometimes in the strangest ways but he always reveals himself in our situations. One more thing. If you’re not angry enough at something you cant change that thing.

    Ann may still be laughing at me but I know this story has inspired her to keep believing in miracles too.

    What are thoughts after reading this story? I’d love to hear them. So drop a comment and share this post with everyone you know. Much love.

  • Still, using your pain as an excuse? Here’s what Kirk Franklin has to say.

    “Grow up Ken” Angela yelled

    “How Angela? My parents died without really helping me grow so how am I supposed to grow up”. He growled back
    Angela walked away fed up with his attitude.

    On Sunday I saw Kirk Franklin’s post on IG and it hit a cord.

    He celebrated not the woman who gave birth to him but the woman who gave him his name and brought hope into his life because his birth mother abandoned him.

    You’re crying that your parents made your life empty because they died and left you. But what if you were abandoned by their very own hands, rejected and cast aside like a used rag. How would you feel then? Would your pain not be more unbearable?

    Think about that.

    That was Kirk’s story, yet what is more amazing is that looking at him now, one would never believe him to be the same boy who slept at the trunk of a car. The same person who was abandoned. What you’d see now is a Man as big as God. Untouchable and Unbreakable.

    If he wanted he could have bowed to his pain and sorrows instead he let that pain be the motivation for his success.

    Some of you are quick to replay the sad story every second of the day. You seek people’s sympathy hoping they would cut you some slack because of your predicament.

    Aunty, we are tired of hearing it
    Uncle, we are tired of pitying you
    We are tired of your excuses

    We want to hear about your progress. How do you do that;

    FIGHT BACK

    Fight every emotion with everything in you. Fight back baby. When a thousand negative words play in your head, counter it with ten thousand positive words from God’s word.
    Don’t listen to the weakness in your body. Go out. Stand in the street. Do you see the blind up already working? Do you see little children hawking before sunrise? How many cars can you count driving past you? That should be enough motivation to fight. If they can then you can.

    HEAL

    Healing starts from acceptance
    Accept that you’ve not properly let go. Accept that you’re failing at progressing. Accept that you’re stuck in one place and need healing. Accept that you are enough. Heal so that you don’t raise a generation of traumatic people. Don’t be a pain in the ass. Don’t let people give up on you, instead show them that you can make progress. Talk to a therapist. Hold someone’s hand. Talk to God. Feel him in his nature and embrace the healing that comes thereafter.

    START LIVING

    Enough of the sullen face, the back biting, the excuses and pity hunt. It’s time to remind yourself of those dreams you’ve forgotten. Those dreams you lived for before sorrows and pain came into the picture. Go out and take the cool breeze. Call those friends you must have pushed away. Start from the opportunities you see all around you. Take a chance on yourself and truly start living. Live for yourself because you matter.

    Rise up. Take the wheel. Stop giving excuses. Your pain should push you to succeed

    Are you inspired by this post? Like and Drop a comment. Need help or a listening ear? Send an email. And let’s hold each other’s hand

  • 35 years old and still young and foolish

    Bella was so excited, she couldn’t believe her luck, the hottest boy in the area found her sexy and even told her so. Afterward, things got a little steamy between them and they did it. Yes! They did it. She was so ecstatic and it kept going on until now.
    She was sobbing uncontrollably as her parents looked disappointed.

    “Why did you do this Bella? Why?”. They shook their head in bitter shock.

    ” I’m s…o…rr…y mom. I didn’t know this would happen. I was young and foolish”. She cried.

    Bella was now a pregnant fifteen-year-old Nigerian. Big deal right? Blame it on being “young and foolish”.

    Ben always came home wasted each night. He wanted to be the coolest guy and was always showing off. This time he was headstrong about going to the party. No one wanted to go through the stress of stopping him, as long as he came back on time, which he never did. This time while drinking and partying, he unintentionally spilled drinks on another boy and ruined his cloth.

    ” How dare you”. The boy said angrily and pushed Ben on the chest. Ben didn’t say sorry nor give an apology. He was simply too proud to do so. Instead he pushed the guy back and before we knew it a fight broke out.
    In seconds fists were flying everywhere, punches were thrown, necks were strangled, bottles we’re broken on people’s head and blood became evident.

    The sound of the siren brought everyone back to reality and ten minutes later Ben was in a prison cell.

    The other boy was in the hospital battling with a head injury thanks to Ben.

    “Look at the kind of mess you’ve caused”, His parents scolded at the station, “Now a young boy is fighting for his life”. They looked away too ashamed to look at their son.

    ” I’m sorry dad. I didn’t know things would go out of hand. I guess I was been young and foolish”. He said sadly

    As usual he blames it on being young and foolish. Luckily for him the other boy survived but now he had a record.

    AFTER TWENTY YEARS

    Uncle now that you are grown up, are you still grabbing girls’ ass because you think you can do anything you feel like doing?

    Or still, coming to woo her with that your alcohol smelling mouth just because you know you have a handsome face and some change in your pocket?

    Maybe you’re still carrying your shoulder upper than the God who created you.

    And you aunty, are you still allowing those your so-called friends to dictate your life. Even when their company is only ruining your life.

    Or I guess you’re still using a huge chunk of your finances on the best dress, makeup, hair, etc, and nothing for your family and future.

    Maybe you are also belittling that your neighbor just because you think he is nothing and you’re the mother of dragons.

    You’re still insulting and disrespecting anyone that does even a little thing to you like matching your toe.

    You may hate hearing this, but you were young and foolish but now you’re old and stupid.

    Still making the same poor choices you made then.

    It saddens me to see young men and women finding it difficult to be the adult they claim to be.

    Which is another proof that adulthood is just adulthood.

    Not in age nor in youth but in Wisdom.

    With wisdom you know what should be given importance to, how to talk to people, how to live your life to the fullest.

    Wisdom is how to do what you know.

    And it’s in the ‘how‘ that we make poor choices.

    Yes I know we all have weaknesses and habits, however bad if may be it is necessary we journey in life with the basic etiquette of handling ourselves and other people.

    If you’re still in your thirties or fifties and still foolish, receive sense to be wise. And if you’re young and foolish, also receive sense to be wise.

    Okay I’m done shaking this table. Bye. *laughs*

    I’d love to hear your thoughts, so don’t leave without dropping a comment. Click the follow button and put in your email. You’d be the first person to see my post if you do that. Sounds good right? Prayers up. Stay safe.