Friday, 5 May 2017

Dear, World

I honestly just recently started watching her YouTube videos. I knew nothing about her vines, nothing about her Snapchat, her musical.ly, her Instagram, her Twitter, her whatever.

I fell in love with her because of her humour and cringy puns. She was and still is very relatable.

BUT!

There's the pause.

The 'but' doesn't go to her though. The 'but' goes to the difference in this particular video she posted https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BxluW8rcxoQ

I expected some cliche comedy but it was very motivating.

We should learn to respect people despite their race, colour, hair texture, shape or size or whatever it's called.

Whether you're white or brown (as I've always liked to call it. I don't really appreciate being called black cause my skin is golden!)

Back to the point.

Whether you're white or brown, or short or tall, or way over weighted, we shouldn't feel intimidated by however people refer us as.

And you should NEVER make anyone feel bad because of that.

I'm AFRICAN - like from Nigeria - and never have I ever witnessed any form of racism in my 17 years of living (P.S: I'm turning 17 legit on the 8th May ^.^ And that is three days from today)

I honestly don't know how I'll get my presents though :'(

This isn't just to the fat people, this is to the depressed. To those kids out there who have been abused emotionally by their peers because of their physical appearance or background. To those kids who have been shut up because they feel they don't have a say.

Your opinion matters and one day, you would be known for how unique you are.

You're beautiful inside and out.

"There would always be scars to your beautiful but you don't have to change a thing, the world can change it's heart."

Just keep smiling, shake 'em off and know that nothing matters right now. What really matters is ahead of you.

Spread positivity and please, "don't try to join the crowd if you can't beat them. Make your own army" - a positive one at that.

Spread the love because that's what matters most. Love is God and he will bless you for trying to spread that.

One love and a big thank you to Liza Koshy for her awesome video (Even though it was posted a year, 7 months and 27 days ago ^.^)

I've been thinking of what to post on my blog for ages and her video finally inspired me.

You know how to reach me on my Instagram, Twitter (which I don't really use btw), Snapchat, Wattpad account and... I guess that's it... I guess...

Stay positive and discover your true potentials.

Me-out!

(See what I did there? Like 'me-out'? meow?)

Okay, imma' just leave now.

Goodnight, loves.

-Anya Amarachi Jacinth

Tuesday, 21 February 2017

Count Your Stars

It was a Saturday when I had my first attack.

It was sudden. Unexpected. Uncalled for.

As the school's best athlete, I had raced hundreds of metres without any cases of breathing problems – but Saturday seemed to be exceptional.

It felt surreal.

I could feel my lungs getting smaller, everything around me became blurry and hazy and I was unaware of the things going on in the real world.

I was in my own world – a world that was based on my survival.

I was rushed to the hospital. Different tests were run on me. They connected foreign materials to my body – most that I wasn’t accustomed to.

Well, that was the most I remembered before I blacked out.

The main problem wasn’t even about the attack. I had my scholarship to protect.

I was given a sport’s scholarship in the Carsen Hill State University.

It was at stake due to my health condition.

I have dreamt all my life to be a famous athlete and the opportunity was granted to me in one of the best Universities – But now, I know that my dream would remain in the realm of imaginations and man’s desire.

The thing is, during the cause of my moping, I met someone – a boy. He was handsome… But that isn’t the point, is it?

He was nice, kind, caring, understanding and… His perspective of life affected mine.

It started with him asking me out to coffee then we’d go to the park together and stay out late till the stars emblazoned the night sky.
He’d tell me stories his mother told him about the stars.

“My mum always told me to count the stars. I always did but I was never able to count them all. They weren’t even countable.”

Then he’d look at me with his striking and vibrant brown eyes and smile as he holds onto my hand.

“She says that they’re our blessings. They aren’t countable.”

Something in the way he spoke always made me feel good about myself. Like I still had a purpose of living.
He taught me to have faith, to believe, to hope for the best and forget the reminiscence.
And I did.
Maybe that was the mistake I made… Or maybe not.
Our journey turned to one of him admittedly asking me out on dates, staying even later out at night to tell each other our experiences and stories about life and even confessing our feelings – which ignited – to each other.
It took time, but it happened.
I even forgot about my scholarship because I thought I had something better – someone, better.
On the night of my eighteenth birthday, that was when all he had said to me proved to be worthless.
That night, I had a phone call from CHSU concerning my scholarship. It was withdrawn.
Why? Because of my health condition.
All my joy turned to misery, my celebration to mourning, my laughter to tears and the love I once felt to hatred.
But, was that the complete truth?
As I sat on the swing in the backyard of my house, he came.
He came to comfort me. He came to reassure me. He came to reverse all the negativity I felt.
I couldn’t do anything about it – because it was him.
I had fallen in love and I felt like it was heavenly sent.
He was sent to teach me lessons, to teach me to be patient, to teach me to move on and to teach me to learn.
That night he told me that God was testing my faith.
That statement alone made me realise that maybe not all was lost.
No matter what, God loves his own and would never let him suffer.
Since then, I got up and decided to be an example of a wonder-worker.
How ironic, right?
What would make it less ironic was how on my graduation day, I was offered another scholarship to the Doran College of Arts because of the artworks I did in my freshman year was on display.
The claim was that I had talent. Multiple talents – and you do, too.
Just because you couldn’t pass in one aspect doesn’t mean it’s all over, God has multiple plans for you – they are non-ending.
Anytime you lose hope, I want you to look up to the sky and count the stars.
They’re yours. Your blessings. They’re out there. You have to reach for them.
.
.
P.S.
Just so you know, this isn’t a real life experience. It’s my fictional friend who was just sharing her illusory experience.
P.P.S
Follow my Instagram @amara_chi_
Follow my Twitter @aj_anya
Follow up my books on Wattpad, although I am nowhere near a dedicated writer ^.^ @_Jacinth
My Snapcode a_jacinth
And last but never the least, I have a semi-good-semi-terrible voice so you can check out my singing on my Smule account @_jacinth

Thursday, 16 February 2017

His Smile


He wore his shirt. He tucked it in his pants.
He fixed his tie.
He wore a waist coat over.
He wore a blazer over.
He sat down.
He wore his socks.
He slid his legs into his shoes.
He got up and walked to his mirror.
He looked himself over.
He smiled but it dropped instantly.
He should have adored himself.
He should have.
But he knew something was missing.
Something very delicate.
Maybe someone.
Someone more dear to him.
The only one that could make him smile.
She was his smile.
And he knew he wasn’t fully dressed without his smile.

-Anya Amarachi Jacinth