Let me tell you what else happened on the last red day. A certain old man who has/had a case in my court messaged me like this: “Yetunde, I wish you LOVE and joyous Val’s day. From Your Valentine, C.” As at […]
The moderator continued: “I welcome you all to this year’s Single Sisters’ Conference which is tagged ‘FEARFULLY AND WONDERFULLY MADE’. My name is Catherine Adams. I pray we shall all be richly blessed in Jesus name. (Amen! The audience chorused) Now, […]
The moderator continued: “I welcome you all to this year’s Single Sisters’ Conference which is tagged ‘FEARFULLY AND WONDERFULLY MADE’. My name is Catherine Adams. I pray we shall all be richly blessed in Jesus name.
(Amen! The audience chorused)
Now, say to your neighbour, ‘I am fearfully and wonderfully made!
I can’t hear you, turn to another neighbour and say ‘I am fearfully and wonderfully made!’
(Audience responds, getting excited)
Now, where are the Pretty Plump sisters in our midst? I want you to locate the Cute Slim sisters and say to each other, I mean, say it like you mean it, say it with Jesus’s confidence: ‘I AM FEARFULLY AND WONDERFULLY MADE!!!’
‘Alright now,’ continued the moderator, ‘Do we have Beautiful Ebony black sisters in the house?’ I want you to say Hi!’
Now, where are the Beautiful, Fair sisters in the house?
‘We are here!’ the fair skinned sisters shouted excitedly.
‘Good,’ the moderator continued.
Now again, with Jesus’s Joy, I want you both to locate each other and say ‘I AM FEARFULLY AND WONDERFULLY MADE!!!’
The ladies, with excitement did as they were instructed.
‘Please give yourselves a round of applause! You all are wonderful!…’
At this point, the whole hall was already filled with great ecstasy as all the sisters cheered wildly, glowing with increased excitement.
The moderator continued. ‘Are we happy right now?’
‘Yes!’ The ladies responded gleefully.
‘Good, it is testimony time and I will like you all to put your hands together for Sister Caroline as she comes forward to share her testimony.’
Everyone applauded as Sister Caroline, a plump, cheerful sister climbed the Podium. She beamed with smiles revealing a perfect set of white teeth!
Sis. Caroline: ‘Thanks everybody. I am honoured to stand before you all to share my testimony about how I got married to the man of my dreams at the age of 35. Oh! lest I forget, I am married now but this time last year, I was a single lady! I used to think my stature had been a major reason for my delayed marriage so I tried using some slimming tea to trim my body but to no avail until I met my husband who confessed to me that my shape is the perfect type he had always desired…
The ladies planning to get some slimming tea earlier glanced at each other, readjusts themselves on their seats and glued their eyes on Sister Caroline as she continued her testimony.
Sister Caroline continued. “I have always been ashamed of being a fat lady. I never saw anything good about my stature. I thought I am just abnormally different. My self esteem diminished gradually the more I grew and I usually see other ladies as better and luckier than I am.
The worst part of it is that I have not been very lucky in my relationships. I believed the men didn’t get along with me because I wasn’t good enough for them. So I sank in the valley of self condemnation while I admired the slim friends I had and kept wishing I had a body like theirs.
A friend introduced me to slimming tea, so I started drinking it but it seemed not to work for me. Not because slimming tea is bad or that it’s not effective but probably because God knows my future already and the fact that becoming slim will rob me of HIS choice for my life. You see, all our stories have been written on HIS palms and in HIS books, so for everyone in this world, God has a reason for creating you the way you are, stop wanting to be like someone else…
I gained my freedom the day I stumbled across that Scripture in Psalms 139:14 which says: ‘I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made, marvelous are thy works…’ I began to ponder seriously on this Bible verse. If truly I am carefully made by God and that God was thinking of me when HE was forming me, then it is an error to think that I am ugly! And that was the beginning of my pathway to being set free from the bondage of low self esteem and loving me!
I began to have a different mindset about myself. I was no longer ashamed of my stature. I started taking very good care of my skin. I ate healthy foods, mostly fruits and vegetables. I put on nice well fitted attires that enhanced my beauty. In short, i fell in love with who I am! I made sure I wear a smile everywhere I went to.I walked tall with a renewed confidence. Before I knew it, I started glowing, my beauty started coming out more than ever before. Everyone around me both at work and church couldn’t help but notice this and they passed nice compliments about my latest looks which added to my morale.
Unknown to me, God had been leading a Brother in my church to propose marriage to me. His name is Olajide (now my husband). He was really sure that I will be his wife but he had been hesitant about coming to me. The reason for his hesitation is that I had always hidden myself in church. I scarcely participate in church activities. I used to be ashamed of walking around in church not to talk of mingling, wearing loose dresses that made me look many years older than my age was another unfair attitude I had towards myself. I never cared about wearing smart outfits because I thought it wasn’t necessary, afterall it wouldn’t hide my real body (Smiles).
So when Bro Jide saw a brand new me, his likeness for me grew. He noticed that my relationship with people at church increased gradually, I laughed easily and got more friends.
My sisters, One fateful Sunday, Olajide walked up to me after church service and uttered a statement that sounded like a bombshell!”
‘I can still remember his words vividly,’ Sister Caroline continued, ‘he came out in a simple straight sentence: ‘I appreciate everything about you Sister Caroline, I have been praying about you all this while and now I am sure of God’s choice for me, please will you be my wife?’
I was dizzy for only God knows how many seconds. I looked around me to be sure that I was the one he was addressing. ‘Where is that coming from’ I thought or ‘Am I dreaming?’ Bro Jide is the last person I thought would ever desire me. He was the dream husband of almost all the sisters at church. Why because he is an example of a man who has a great passion for God and eschews immorality. I prayed about his proposal and I had peace within me about him. I agreed to marry him. We courted for eight months and today, to the glory of God, we are happily married.
God’s ways indeed are not our ways. Join me in praising God, I have seen HIS goodness!’
Sister Caroline stepped down from the podium amidst a standing ovation from the audience. All the Sisters in the hall shouted ‘I AM FEARFULLY AND WONDERFULLY MADE!’ over and over again…
My dearest sister, such is life. What you do not like about yourself or what you think is not good enough in your physical feature is what someone else admires. What gives you the impression that your complexion is not okay? You want to bleach your skin because you think fair skinned ladies appeal more to men than dark ones? That’s a terrible lie! As a matter of fact, I have someone close to me that appreciates dark ladies more, he believes they are more beautiful. That is to tell you that someone somewhere appreciates your physical feature more than you do.
Are you plump? Don’t think slim ladies are better than you are. Are you short? Do not desire to be tall. You see, God knew what HE was doing when HE was forming you. HE was thinking about you, HE knew your future from your very beginning and HE formed you beautifully. God has a plan for everyone so stop wanting to be like another. When you look at others and you always have the thought that they are better than you, it is a sign of a low self esteem which is not healthy for you.
Whether you are brown, yellow, black, tall, short, slim, fat, big eyeball, tiny eyeball, whatever your feature is, LOVE YOURSELF. Be proud of yourself. Be satisfied with yourself.
Loving oneself is the pathway to peace and freedom.
So my sisters, the first person you must fall in love with after God is YOU 👉
Appreciate yourself, celebrate yourself. You are Beautiful!
You are fearfully and wonderfully made by God.
God bless you.
Thanks for reading.
*Please share with friends.
Have a wonderful week.
Esteem Ladies Foundation.
*This is a ‘MUST READ’ for all Single and Married Sisters! At a Single Sisters’ Conference, many beautiful and gorgeous ladies were present. While waiting for the program to start, the ladies were all seated elegantly, each one of them observing […]
*This is a ‘MUST READ’ for all Single and Married Sisters!
At a Single Sisters’ Conference, many beautiful and gorgeous ladies were present. While waiting for the program to start, the ladies were all seated elegantly, each one of them observing her neighbour’s physical features (you know now, ladies’ normal way of comparing their appearances with other ladies).
While doing this, the following thoughts were going through their minds.
Sister A: “How I wish I have a beautiful face like Sister B. She is so adorable plus the fact that she has a fair complexion. Wow! She looks like a goddess. Flawless beauty. If I am like this, I would be married by now, I swear! I must buy a skin toning cream o. At least, by the time I am fairer, more brothers will notice me. What now? Why is she looking at me? She must be wondering how I am coping with this dark skin”. (quickly turns her face away).
Sister B: (observes Sister A closely and thinks) “Wow! What a black beauty! Glittering like the sun. Ha ha! This Sister is ebony black, yet she is beautiful the way she is. She does not even need to buy expensive soaps or cream in order to maintain her colour. I really wish I am like her, I would be able to use any soap, cream or bath with any water without having to spend money on skin reactions. I admire this Sister’s colour sha! She must be so proud of her beautiful dark skin!”
Sister C:(looks at Sister D and admires her hair)
“Hmmmmmm! What a beautiful hair!” She thought. “And a natural one at that. Long shiny and dark! Unlike my own short and brown hair that refuses to grow longer” (she hissed within her). “I need to get a permanent wig to cover this hair abeg! It’s embarrassing me!”
Sister D: (seated close to Sister C, looks at Sister C’s hair with great admiration) “Wow! What a beautiful hair style! What do they normally call this hairstyle o? I think Anita Pecker or something like that, it looks so good on her… I need to cut my hair and dye it to make it a bit brown. This Sister’s hair is gorgeous. What is the essence of my own long hair with loads of dandruff underneath? My scalp embarrasses me anytime I go to the salon.” She thought. “Can I take a picture with you please?” Sister D asks Sister C. ‘Your hair is beautiful!’ She added.
Sister C: “Are you talking to me?
SISTER D: “Oh yeah! Sure, you are the one I am talking to. I am sorry to bother you. Please I need a picture of you. I love your hairstyle.”
SISTER C: (Her face lighting up, smiles slightly). ‘Oh No, not at all! That won’t be a problem. Let’s take a shot.’
SISTER D: ‘Okay, thanks.’
(They took pictures with Sister D’s camera and settled back on their seats).
After she was seated, Sis C’s face started glowing, her confidence returns to her. She stood up from her seat, strolled out of the hall to take in some fresh air, walking with her shoulders high, with a renewed esteem. Just a little compliment from Sis. D restored her self confidence.
At the far corner of the hall, two other sisters sat next to each other. They are actually co-workers at a Private Secondary School in town. They had been invited to the programme by a colleague of theirs. The following conversation took place between them.
SISTER A: Have you seen Sandra recently?
SISTER B: No. Why did you ask?
SISTER A: “I heard she now sells a kind of slimming tea that will give one a perfect slim shape.”
SISTER B: Are you for real? Let me quickly call her. I need it so badly. (Searches through her bag for her phone).
SISTER A: Hey! Take it easy. Not so fast, I told you first remember? So do not double cross me.
SISTER B: Who cares about who tells who first and what difference does it make if I call her first? All I care for right now is to become a ‘lepa straight.’ Na wetin dey reign now be that. Jesus I need help oh!
(Not too far from where Sis. A and B were seated was Sis. C, a tall slim lady in her late twenties. She sat on her chair with her legs crossed, looking at Sis A and B where they were seated though not able to hear what they were saying. She was admiring the nice outfits they had on).
SISTER C: (Deep in thought). ‘Shebi these are human beings, the clothes they put on sits perfectly on their skins like they were born with it. Nice hips, adequate busts, hot legs, all in the right proportion. Everything is just so perfect. Nawa o. Unlike me, despite all the rich food and multivitamin capsules that I keep taking just to add more flesh, all na lie! After I finish dressing up, I will still look like a dress hanger. No bust, no hips, nothing to make a dress look good on one…
SISTER B: (taps SIS. A). ‘Look at that lady at the row next to us (referring to Sis. C), by the time we finish taking that slimming tea, our shapes will look exactly like hers.’
SISTER A: Yes oh! I can’t wait
‘Good morning fearfully and wonderfully made Sisters!’ A voice came from the podium, ‘the program is about to start! ‘
GOD BLESS YOU AS YOU WAIT.
# Please share with your friends.
Esteem Ladies Foundation
It is that scent, the cool breeze, the riddles in pidgin, the hardened yet innocent and caring looks of the people that got baptized by her streams, streams of water and blood that had made the city different. The accent stays magnetic […]
It is that scent, the cool breeze, the riddles in pidgin, the hardened yet innocent and caring looks of the people that got baptized by her streams, streams of water and blood that had made the city different. The accent stays magnetic as I beg to call any stranger I hear with her majestic lingua, brother. Warri was a pleasant place growing up. Most of my sharpening days were in Warri. Yeah they say we learn every day, it was different here, here they say; “na once black man dey wise”. The white man must have learnt the “fool at forty” proverb from us.
My family moved to Warri from Lagos in the year 1995, I had only very few memories of that place – Lagos. My primary and secondary education all took place in Warri, it was great, really great.
* * *
The Europeans had loved the shores of this city since their first arrival – by the Portuguese – in the fourteenth century. Her rivers empty into the Atlantic Ocean directly, through her passages of numerous creeks and her Forcados and Escravos boundaries more southwards. Warri must have taken her form since the early fifteenth century, from historian records. The Urhobos, the Ijaws and the Itsekiris are the ones recognised as the original inhabitants of the land. Interestingly, it had always been the evening sojourns of the bats that had always given me the joy of evening glance. They migrate every evening from the Escravos region and fly all the way towards the Forcados area. They have greatly reduced in population now, owing to the free burning lighters of the smoking refinery located in Ubeji, a small town about one kilometre south-west of Warri.
I am very familiar with the health hazards a refinery poses to its host communities: the stench of burning hydrocarbons and the black soot that dabs freely, the canvas of its environs.
Business around Warri started with the large and profitable empire of slave trading. After her abolishment, the Brits proceeded to palm oil trade, to power their fast growing industries that produced soap and candles, rubber trade and also timber trade. Sapele, Koko, and Warri opened quickly because of these trade; the people got enlightened broadly and they also adopted the groovy lifestyle.
In Warri, a British company had acquired a large parcel of land to situate its factory with the promise of provision of drinks during one of the king’s annual ceremony, we had been baptized with the greed for quick satisfaction. This kind of mentality has left the people impoverished for years and their environments heavily polluted by oil mining operations – the outcome of which is series of violent conflicts in the area.
* * *
Tales and tales will always go on, reasons and reports, facts and arguments so I concluded that we should all live as best as we could and be as peaceful too. Talking of peace, the people I grew up amongst, a people that at the slightest show of provocation, tempers are avalanched and there is only a cooling down: when the volcano is done spilling all her lava. Such were the events during the Warri crisis which spanned for about two whole years. It was simply caused by provocations by two different communities and the pulling (a luring to join in the fight) in of another. Lives were lost, properties destroyed – investors, organizations, and firms walked away.
Still there were different tales of sympathy from the different parties to justify their respective reactions to the other. On one of those nights, as a young boy that was intrigued by American action movies, I was woken up by the rushing sound of panic. It was the panicky moves the grown-ups had thought could be hidden maturely from us, the kids. We could see huge flames, flames of inferno rising from a distance, panicky roars, the groans of the bereaved, and the rolling sounds of automatic machine guns, as in Hollywood movies. Some people later said, “If you see the gun wey those boys carry, you go don reach heaven before dem shoot sef.”
My parents thought of running with us to the federal government college nearby. It was a territory immune to the reach of any ethnic fang, they were certain that every other place outside there was going to be razed that night.
I later got admission to that same school. Always like a fresh scene was that of the red lit sky that night. The sky was lit with the glowing redness of bullets freely shot into the sky. The feeling was that the bullets had a mind of their own and travelled where ever they wanted, maybe that was true. One of the bullets had landed on the roof of our building and rested on the chest of one of our tenants – papa Bevis. He was from the opposing fighting clan but he felt comfortable living amongst us. We all grew as a family, I and his kids ran around and they called me bros, I was very young though, but they were much younger than me. Papa Bevis was taken to the hospital later when there was some calmness from the fighting.
Those memories linger on. I could always differentiate the sound of a real firearm from that of a firecracker, and I had learnt calmness even in the direst situations. This had earned me respect in different places I had been afterwards, because I had got an instinct to always carry on.
* * *
Enough of the hyping sha, it is really me. I still appreciate all the quiet tutorials from my city – Warri. I loved the old people here, they had the real content. That had all been in our neighbour, Mr Edema. Mr Edema was an elderly man in his eighties, and he was an Itsekiri. I knew him as a kid growing up, his wife had been a nurse, a very good one. She had been of help whenever there was a medical emergency in our home. I had just come back to town and I thought it wise to pay him some compliments. I met him at his gate and greeted warmly; as though he was expecting me, he happily said “My boy, how are you?” He told me he had talked with my father concerning me only two days before.
Looking closely at the question paper, he began to read out some of the answers to me, it had been an exam in objectives. It was in that instance I knew I had to submit my script as I felt taking those […]
Looking closely at the question paper, he began to read out some of the answers to me, it had been an exam in objectives. It was in that instance I knew I had to submit my script as I felt taking those answers from the invigilator was a deliberate act of breaking my moral wall – though it looked to me like manna from above.
* * *
* * *
And so the script went on, I had tried my hands on some trade and found out I was not wired for that, the field where we could play some football was locked up by the government, in the name of urban beautification. There was no moral justification to partake in any militancy activity and so the list of counter arguments went on. Public opinions were dwarfed, they said that the economy just passed through a recession, and we should just wait. New buildings were springing up though and shopping malls were scarcely empty. It was in the event of all these that I remembered the story of Hannah in the Bible when she was desperate for a child. The Priest then, thought she was wine drunk that morning – well no repetition of the story – she got her miracle.
It was after that call I got earlier in the morning, that I started perceiving I was acting weird. Now for this, I was glad because I knew my miracle was definite and was going to happen in the soonest instance.
* * *
A day before, I was with Mama-P, an elderly lady I had grown fond of. I had sat down in front of her shop, waiting to hear all her tales and maybe stir a little laughter up. I was somewhat popular in the Ekuruede Urhobo community; a very few educated people would want to be caught sitting around there. I sincerely loved the smell of the smoked fish, the children jumping and running around in droves, the romantic use of pidgin by the people there and also the free Urhobo language tutorials I got there. Mama-P started:
“My boy, make you see something wey you go dey do o, even if e small. To dey sidan house no easy o. Na small-small before God go do am.”
“Na so,” I responded.
I had got these lessons from different folks over and over again. Well, we laughed over a few more stories before I did the goodbye bidding;
“Do ma, bye bye,” and I headed back home.
The visit to Mama-P made me a little more open minded on the job thing but I had just sacrificed one in the pursuit of something else. I definitely did not want to discredit my well thought and considered decision. I took my phone and called some of my old friends. I had really come out plain. I thank God for them; my spirit was really lifted from their deep positions.
Yetunde, a female friend in my university days said:
“It’s your faith now, not those of any priests or prophets,” and a little-shared smile there and we moved on.
It was exactly two months since I met this fine young man – Ope Farinde – and we had grown as long-time friends. Apart from his attitude towards certain issues, which I did fancy, his speech was always on-point. He was one of the few that made me convinced my decision on the job pursuit was a great one. We had studied the same course, in different universities though. He reminded me of the stubborn fellow – that was me – two years ago, while I was participating in the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC).
I had been posted to Abia State. I was picked as presiding officer (PO) for the elections then. It was a fine thing for me even though some parents had warned their children about the dangers associated with participating in elections such as electoral violence. I was not moved, I saw it as a once in a lifetime adventure.
It had been national news then that the Corpers were going to be treated right: In feeding, transport, accommodation and other logistics, in their various electoral centres. Different amounts were widely speculated to have been disbursed, this made more people try rigging their way to gain participation slots during the election process.
On that fateful evening, the day preceding the general elections at INEC (Independent National Electoral Commission) office in excitement, we waited for the goodies promised. We were welcomed to a tent with few plastic chairs and a few people seating, patiently waiting. When it was some minutes past 7:00 pm, I walked up to the electoral officer – a pot-bellied man who kept a roughly shaved head, definitely in his late forties with a rather brutish accent – and asked:
“Sir what of the arrangements for the Corpers?” No one seemed bold enough to have addressed him.
“Ehm! Ehm…the people contracted to do the assignments disappointed. But don’t worry by the next weekend, it will all be resolved. Please send me your reps to get something to buy biscuits and water.”
The later came, only after arguing with him about some refreshments. By the following weekend, the date for the governorship elections. We were all gathered and it was a replay of that same scene, only that I was prepared for some problem for them that day. At around 7:00 pm again, after many of us – the Corpers – had deserted, I walked up to him and said……
The Diary of a warrior boy continues next Friday. Read and share!!!
New Story Series Alert . The Diary of a Warri boy is a new story series on the blog. It is a powerful non fictional story. The story is more than engrossing. It is captivating, very real, ‘unputdownable’ and it brings to […]
New Story Series Alert
The Diary of a Warri boy is a new story series on the blog. It is a powerful non fictional story. The story is more than engrossing. It is captivating, very real, ‘unputdownable’ and it brings to fore some of the sad realities in our day to day Nigeria.
The writer, Eghele is a young man whom I tutored in GNS(General Studies) during his Pre-degree(or was it jambite days).
I just got connected with him recently. I must confess that I never saw this side of him. He is so good with poetry and nonfiction. With this debut novella, he has actually surpassed my expectations. He is based in Warri, Nigeria where he is presently working on his second book.
From the surface; A Coastal Town
That scent of water fresh,
The sights of the mangrove stretch,
The rays of sunshine bright,
That burst of rainfall might,
The swagger of branching trees,
The stagger of drunken bees.
From pipes and choppers,
The unfiltered mix;
Of blood with diesel,
Then the fading Sunshine;
Not of nightfall,
But from an inferno;
The burning of a trampled dignity.
Yes, it’s just one of those days when you know something big has to happen. Yes, something big, something really big.
It was a calm morning as usual in the city of Warri. The showers just came down, it must have known that NEPA, the National Electric Power Authority, later changed to PHCN – the Power Holding Company of Nigeria – was not interested in helping our cooling systems that morning. My phone had buzzed a while ago, and I had a little calm conversation with my mother-in-law to be. It was a normal conversation, just that it was a reminder that I had to be “the man”. I always remember when I told my lovely babe that “I am your man”. Well, her mum was not there when I said all that except that she had whispered it to her of course.
* * *
I had been without job for about four months now; I had taken the risk to quit my former job, in pursuit of a more excellent course. The reality of this whole thing was that I was keeping a good girl waiting. We’d been together for close to three years now and we were in no way getting younger. My sincere conscience always reminded me that I must be quick about the whole settling down thing.
Well, I guess the morning call, my conscience and everything around quietly whispered the same alarm “be the man”. I still stand grateful for the call though. She had known about the decision on the former job and in the past three months, every time she called, she asked what I was up to. Let me believe it was a question born out of love and concern and not the whole “when will you be the man” thing that even I, started asking myself.
* * *
In recent weeks my brain must have been working harder than the entire Nigerian army in “the Sambisa”. I had slept, even though I did not crave for it like those days in previous years when I wished the government will declare a two-week holiday, to celebrate something, something to give workers rest from the everyday hustling. Now I did not want holidays, I wanted something that will make me fulfilled from inside. That’s what I always told my lady: Hey babe I want to come home every day and give you and the kids’ very interesting gist of how the period at work went, not tales of the AC stopped working or the DSTV scrambled or I slept and woke up at exactly closing time. She had liked that reason, I had found out that ladies loved those stories, and especially when they are true life.
For now, I still tell her tales, of the folks I had met recently, of the events in Warri, of my love for her, though she’d say: “Babe, I’ve heard that one before”. Recently I was standing outside the gate of our compound when I saw this man, he should be in his thirties. He was brushing his head as seriously as he passed by. The funny thing was that he was bald. He must have hoped his hair would spring up anytime soon. If I had half the faith that dude had, ha, I should be moving mountains around.
* * *
I had applied already to all the jobs that made sense, even those that did not, I had heard and read tales, slangs, and stories of successful people. Some were true but it was a known reality that these tales are recited and preached mostly by a whole lot of “unsuccessful” folks. At a time they would get depressed later enough though, only after splitting through the pages of reality. I was definitely determined not to fall on any of that lot, I made up my mind to make the difference. I was definitely not going to prescribe doses that did not work for me, so I chose to deliberately live a successful reality.
I sincerely wanted to try out something, at least to make some few coins – or more – to stay off the economists’ “vicious cycle of poverty”, I honestly wanted out. I’ve always fancied when the analysts on TV talked about “purchasing power”; oh, how I loved that phrase. I had sworn to myself that “I’d make it”, not forgetting the vow of integrity and honesty that happily soared on the sea of my conscience.
I had once been stranded in an exam hall, I remembered that episode; it still plays like in an action movie scene. It was a Physics course that I had to pass and I could bet that day, or was it just me? The script was a mix of Arabic and Chinese. I had promised my being not to cheat in any exam, so I just sat looking. I had just spent about ten minutes writing my name and other information on my answer booklet.
It must have been quite too early to submit, or so I had thought. The invigilator, a man in his mid-thirties, must have walked past a couple of times till he finally tapped on me and said; “young man, don’t you know Physics?”
.to be continued next friday
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