15 Super Simple but Highly Effective Tips to Inspire Your Inner Winner

I had been wondering where Jef had gone too, leaving me without my usual post to re-blog on monday mornings.

Now I know and see and am sure he was trying out those SSBHE tips too.

Indeed, Jeff you are helping so many be and stay inspired and motivated to motivate.

For all this and for my humble self in particular, I say thank you!


Sanchia Alasia a fearlessly Ambitious Woman of Colour!

Image        A brief visit to her website will give you this:

“Sanchia Alasia is a Labour Councillor for Alibon Ward in Barking and Dagenham and a specialist in French politics.

Sanchia has been selected as one of the six new Labour Party candidates for the European elections in 2014 in the London region.

After working with Labour Party activists to defeat the far right in Barking, Sanchia now wants to use this direct experience to help sister parties fight the far right across Europe.”

Now, here is how I got to meet this fearlessly ambitious woman of Colour, henceforth one of my many heroines.

I was working on a project and I needed some contacts given that I was a few months old to Belgium and well isn’t it most about who you know?

So, I called my boss in Vienna, the one who even came up with the community of fearlessly ambitious women, she gave me some contacts amongst whom was Sanchia.

The hunt began. I literally hacked into Sanchia’s world. Hm, at some point, maybe not because me though,  but she changed her email address. That did not stop me and I just continued writing to her and she kept politely saying she was too busy.

The project came and went but I felt I needed to meet with Sanchia before she became an MEP and I couldn’t anymore right? Hahaha.

We started to get along but each time we thought we could meet, one person’s schedule got sort of jilted and so bam no meeting.

My breakthrough just came last week or so when Sanchia told me she would be in Brussels this week.

Of course you can imagine my panic! I booked two lunch dates in case she could only be available for either of the days. I sent her reminders, shared the events on google calendar and sent hangouts, sms and what have you.

D-Day came and we met for lunch at the European Parliament itself.

The picture surely speaks for itself.

We sure look like sisters from different mothers right? Hm, I sure do want some of Sanchia’s drive oh me who is just a year old in Europe but who is looking at taking it by the horns in a very short time to come.

So, for a woman of colour, ( don’t mind her nationality on the passport because your colour makes a sometimes unpleasant difference) to be this assertful in Europe, is a sure feat not to be overlooked.

I obviously literally interviewed her and here is a sum of what she told me

I also asked her if there was anything I could do to help with her campaign as you can see from the hangout below (ignore the time for that’s how some of us work):

…Ah great I just wish I could help somehow in your campaingn 
Mon, 9:41 PM
Marie A. Abanga
Sanchia Alasia
“The moral support is great

Mon, 9:42 PM” 
If that’s all expected of me, hm she can be sure she may get an overdose.

It is therefore for the above reasons that I consider Sanchia a heroine of mine.

Gentle followers of mine, I always love to hear from you and equally see you share some love and spread the word that there is some good content in my humble and modest blog right?

Trust – Learning to give each other ‘a little space’

Trust – Learning to Give Each Other a Little Space!

by Marie Abanga

Some may wonder if a couple who say they want to become ‘one’, and want to share everything henceforth, should turn around again and give each other a little space right?

Marie Abanga

Others like myself, who got married to that kind of a man with the sort of  ‘mentality’ that his ‘wife’ is his ‘property’, know what it means to live under the terror of coming back a minute late from the ‘official’ places your were sort of ‘given permission’ to go.

My ex husband used to say and I quote: ‘tu es mon bien’ meaning I was his property. He said this jokingly in public but discussed it menacingly in the confines of the ‘bedroom’ for after all, had I not literally begged him to marry me?

I don’t remember ever using such language on him or trying to put an eye on his movements and dealings because I expected him to be deserving of my trust.

Hm, he abused that trust and stopped being communicative about his movements and dealings. I remember noticing that his cell phones were very often switched off as from 6pm until whenever he returned home and his excuse used to be that the battery had died down on him.

He however expected me to trust him or tell him all I did or wherever I went to, and for what purpose, and for how long and all.

I sometimes felt choked but I never knew hot to speak to him about it nor about any of my other issues , worries and fears.

Such attitudes are damaging right? Moreover, we would probably all agree that no matter what the bible or which ever dogma says, the basic concepts of any relationship, most probably should include Trust (Faith), Hope and Love.

That was how I gradually started telling lies to claim a little space to myself.

I  remember lying that I am going to a ‘Church’ retreat or that my  case (for I am a lawyer )  is taking long to be tried  or that I was going to visit a client in prison or where ever.

TrustAll the above just hastened the collapse of our marriage and well, had there been some trust, Faith and  hope, I am very sure we could have talked things out !

Then came the tsunamis and unfortunately or whatever, I had to leave the country altogether and sure, I couldn’t take my 3 boys with me!

Now, I fast forward to my current relationship:

Of all days but the 14th of February, My boyfriend trustfully allows me to go spend the weekend with family in Paris. Oh , how I appreciated that he didn’t want a minute by minute account of my doings and goings unless I offered to tell him, and which I lovingly did in our twice daily phone conversations.

By the time I had been gone for just a day, he had missed me so much that he, the rather reserved person, told me in a mail that : ” Have a great evening, my little Valentine.”

This isn’t the first time he is letting me go places on my own for a few days or do anything I want to do and he trusts me to do so for the benefit of us and our relationship.

There was also a period last summer where I had to trustfully let him go on vacation to Greece for  three good weeks. It was a tough and trying period for both of us and for our relationship but I bet that period did us both so much good and we couldn’t wait to be together again.

What I am therefore daring to suggest is that, sometimes, we have to trust the other enough to let them have a little space. The dividends are often real big for the relationship and the love and friendship more often than not renewed.

Moreover, I think we are spared unnecessary stress and heart aches, although I am equally conscious of cases including mine where the trust the other put in the other partner was grossly abused.

Yet, it is better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all. Oh, it is better to have trusted and failed than not to have trusted at all. Better still, it is better to have tried and dared than not to have tried and failed!

Do you think trust and giving the other a little space every now and then isn’t worth it anymore?

As published on the Divorce Magazine by Marie Abanga | February 18, 2014 at 2:10 pm .

Paris or paris? Random thoughts of mine


Infront of the Marche au Pousse

With these two pictures, I begin my narrative and analysis. Well, just my random thoughts using some personal experiences. Still doesn’t make sense right? Ok now back to the words or rather question.

Paris or paris? What’s the difference? Ah just the capital letter right?

That’s precisely the differentiation I want to make. You see, I was in Paris during the summer and the first picture was taken in the beautiful scenery of the Montmartre, one of those touristic attractions you sure want to visit.

During that same trip, I visited the Eiffel Tower again, eye-shopped the Champs Elysées (for that’s all I can do except for buying a hot dog maybe) and had dinner in some chic apartment  in the 16th district and spent the night there too.

Wow, there, I got to taste Foie Gras, Choucroute, fromages, various wines and histories and eat with maybe 9 different cutlery and drank from 3 or so glasses. There was one for champagne, the other for wine (sometimes two if you will be having both red and white  at some interval as the meal is served) and of course one for water.

The different courses of such meals need some real courses in the university for their grasp.

Yes, to me that was Paris. The city of love, the city of bling, the city of fashion.

It reminds me of how from the same letter P, you can have Presidents or prisoners.

Now, this weekend, I went to paris as you can see in the second picture. That is the notorious Marché-aux-puces, the kind like we have back home (really reminded me of one called Nkoulouloun), where stuffs are pushed around and displayed on the ground, where you can bargain all you want and buy a few items too at real give away prices.

Yet in that market like in all paris, you are conscious of your bag, holding it tight as I held mine, you take a picture far away and zoom it later because it you dare in the market itself, be thankful to still keep the camera thereafter.

In paris, I visited this time around with a cousin who lives in the ‘banlieue’. She is called Marie (just like me huh).

Marie and I

We grew up together and really get along so well.

We spent the afternoon and evening cooking because on the next day she had one of those ‘njangis’, (a sort of meeting where money is saved by the members and lots of food ate) which Africans and Cameroonians in particular know how to carter for.

We cooked Cooking all night for a meetingand cooked and ate and drank and cooked again.  I wondered if even the concept of ‘should in case’ (where you anticipate uninvited guests or that people will bring plastic bags for take aways), is known and entertained out here.

Later by 2 am, her husband said he was taking me out to the famous 18th district to show me some hot spots. I did not come anticipating such an outing but Marie quickly lent me some clothes and here is the end product:

My brother inlaw wanted to show me Paris by nightIn three hours or so, we visited such spots and I danced myself out. I really did some sports huh!

The Périphérie du Nord is a famous Cameroonian ‘cabaret’ where music from the 60s’ and home food and drink flow in abundance… well as far as you can afford.

The Byblos night club in the ‘Cargo’ (for there is like a huge container full of people and there are four different dance halls and all) is also another attraction of paris.

By the time I got home, all I could do was pass out and this is how I saw it the next morning Hyper tiredas in a few hours later since we actually got back at 6 am or slightly thereafter.

Now, you have the narrative and even graphics, over to the analysis.

I earlier talked about Presidents or prisoners right?

I have had the pleasant opportunity  in life to meet both categories of people.

I have met Ellen Johnson, Dlamini Zuma or even Portia Simpson Miller just to name those few. Yet, I strongly think the chances of my meeting them are better if I am in Paris than if I find myself in paris.

Back home, I worked in the prison and on the streets and made some real friends. I went there like I would go home and I even dated a ‘street kid’ known as ‘Nanga Mboko’ in our parlance.  An extreme, right?

My random thoughts here is that, in life, we could be on either side of the same city. We could find ourselves on the left side of the road today and tomorrow we are on the right one.

I sincerely think that, if we work on flexibility and adaptability, our chances of making it in this life are greater.

I love both worlds. I have very fond memories of both Paris and paris and treasure my encounters with the Presidents as much as with the prisoners. It’s all a matter of choice and living up to those choices.

So, gentle followers of mine, what do you make of these random thoughts of mine?

The Contents: The 14 stations of my Cross …

Coming to Kindle stores March 1st
Coming to Kindle stores March 1st

Surely this ain’t a Bible just MyStory!

Since everyone can literally own or carry a ‘cross’, I decided to refer to each chapter of my book as a station  of my own ‘cross’.

Most if not all  of those stations taught me lessons in and for life and I am who I am today thanks to them.

Find bellow therefore, the list and stay tuned to read more in the book itself:


Chapter I: That Day in 1991

Chapter II: My Parents and I

Chapter III: My First “Boyfriends”

Chapter IV: My University Loves

Chapter V: The ‘Loves’ go Out of Bounds

Chapter VI: Alain My Son

Chapter VII: Marriage My Refuge (A post on this was featured two days ago on the Divorce Magazine and on marieabanga.com so check them out)

Chapter VIII: David My Shepherd

Chapter IX: My Adulteries

Chapter X: Gabriel My Angel

Chapter XI: Alain My “Treasure”

Chapter XII: The Cost

Chapter XIII: The Course

Chapter XIV: My Redemption


Of course I retain the suspense by refraining to add anything else. You can refresh on the preface here, and look forward to the next insight come Saturday …

Oh Ye gentle followers of mine, what is your take?

My Darling Darling…


There is love in the air especially on this day right? And there should be love in the air too for the likes of ‘us’ I assert!

So I seize the opportunity to blog (and why not brag) about my Darling Darling…

You may wonder if I am not repeating a word here, but yes I am and on purpose. You see, when we met, I told him I will call him my Darling Darling and my Super Super Hero because I had hitherto called so many darling that he deserved the twinning.

I had earlier done a post on A Gentleman and of course I was talking about my DD (as I abbreviate it).

You see, I have come to learn that just because life has all those twists and turns and that we go through so much and even become ‘whore like’, does not mean we would never find a ‘Valentine’.

So, I am grateful for my DD and all the love and support he’s given me. Yes he even bought me my first ever smart phone for Christmas and a kindle for my birthday . He handles all the tech related issues of my various occupations  like the book you’ll soon be reading (but he doesn’t for my social media beehive for he’s not into all those -stopping just at Linux and Ubuntu’s door).

Lets celebrate ours if we’ve got them, and lets keep walking and hoping and dreaming if we’ve not found them yet.

My DD and I, are  still a long way from the above quote but we ‘are sure getting there and to me, anticipation, forecasting, dreaming, planning and all are part of the ride.

Do share some love and leave lovely comments all you gentle followers of mine.



Love and appreciation is in the air right?

So today I will write about a heroine of mine I met last week (em yes I sometimes fall too quickly for people especially when my nerves chick me to). Well, tomorrow, I will post about my Hero so just be patient.

Now, why Soila and what has she done to make me do a post on her so soon after we e-met. Hm, cozy down and read on.

Last year, when I came to Belgium and the weather was just making me more weary, I started to roam the internet more. Ah, ye I was looking for Divorce sites where I could read others’ stories and maybe one day be ready to share mine too.

“I registered with a few of them like the Huffington Divorce, Moms Divorce, Dads Divorce (yes even from that angle I had a thrice divorced dad, a divorce husband, and now a boyfriend who recently got divorced) and oh not forgetting Kids Divorce ( and here, I was a kid from such a home and now I have kids from such a home oh life).”

Yet, I just read on every now and then but didn’t feel ready to start sharing. I think I needed to find love first. I need to love myself hard and to find a gentleman.

The next apprehension was, with the huge crow in those websites, would I not even get drowned and trampled upon before I even learn the basics of contributing articles? Who would have time for an MJC (Mary Just Come) like me?

One thing led to another and I became very social network active along the line. People even started following me on twitter before I could understand the ‘twittatics’.

Soila and her Divorce Magazine were one of such people. Hm, I looked them up and felt a thrill. It popped out at once – that’s what you  have been waiting for so go for it.

You see, I had been following those other sites since July 13th and yet I didn’t even know who ran them of if they even smiled just like Soila does.

I thus quickly contacted her and this is a brief of the response I got and less than 48 hours later:

” Hi Marie,

Thank you for getting in touch.

Your story does indeed sound not only interesting but also one that may inspire others and ease the pains that others might be experiencing which is really the aim of The Divorce Magazine.
I have read your story on your blog and there is so much there, I’m not sure what to say.  ” Feb 9 (4 days ago)
You can imagine the rest right. Well, my first article was published on the magazine yesterday so you can refresh right here and I have a page on the DM too,  full of kind words.
Soila is a strong and powerful woman just like my friend June.
Yes, Soila recently shared with us how she survived her divorce(s) or rather how she is dealing with pain.
If she hadn’t I wouldn’t have guessed.
I was ready to share my story, actually, my book is to be released in barely 15 days from now.
Because Soila has giving me this other opportunity to heal and help more than I hurt, I consider her one of my heroines.
Dear Gentle followers, share one of your heros or heroines with us or maybe just leave a comment and spread the work?

Marriage My Refuge

AMAI Know many would wonder at the awkwardness of such a title! Should Marriage be considered as a Refuge in any right thinking mind? Surely, I was out of my mind right?

Well, I think I am not the only one who at some point in her life preferred to be married at all cost than to stay single, and maybe with a child, and maybe still living at her mother’s, and maybe with no source of income, and maybe with her mind drifting towards hyper restlessness.

I was one of those someones and I share my story with you.

I had had a son in 2003 and that one is another story. Now, in Africa and Cameroon in particular, having a child out of wedlock is simply put, an abomination.

Next, I still lived at my mum’s, had no source of income although I had had a law degree and even a post graduate diploma. For a woman and probably for a man of my generation, still living at home when you are 25 and not having any source of income is frustrating.

To crown it all, I didn’t get along with my mother of course among st other reasons because of that b…… I had given birth to and now burdened her with.

So, how else was I to live without any income unless I asked someone to marry me or cornered someone to propose to me sooner than later?

As it happened, while travelling to another city for some petty business I was doing,  a guy who was to become my X, feigned interest in the products and took down my mobile number.

He told me like many had done before him that he admired my courage and figure and whatever. I told him I wasn’t interested in playing around anymore, that I had a son and that I thought I should be settling down at my age.

My X told me he was also not looking to play around, he had a 3 months old son and had intended to marry his girlfriend, but his mother (his father towed along) wouldn’t hear about it, and the girl and her mum were alleged to be witches and he was sick of it all.

I was like okay, we both need to settle down, we each come from far, so why don’t we get married?

Terrible reasons to get married I now admit. But that was how it happened that I got Married because I was looking for a Refuge from ‘home’ and my broke state.

We got to start trying to know each other well after our marriage, which took place on the 18th of March 2005 in my village, and my father who was the Lord Mayor by then, celebrated it. Lord, what honour with dishonour I was bringing to my dad – you alone could give him the grace thereafter and now.

I just wanted the whole marriage to take place so badly that I rejected all signals of incompatibility of personality and otherwise. Mr. X loved keeping late hours, he was disorganized, kept a lot of things to himself, could very well have been groomed at some point by my own father.

my marriageMy parents’ reservation revolved about his level of education, his apparent instability and my still dependent status; my mother remarked that I went to his mother’s too often before we got married, making it look like I was urging things, which in all honesty I was.

Nobody ever inquired about the ‘love’ factor.

By my 26th birthday, I was pregnant and so by the time we got married I was 2.5 months pregnant. Hmm, even if I wanted to back out, what option did I really have?

His mother also didn’t really like me after all. I didn’t want to go to the farm, I didn’t want to stay with her until her sisters and she officially accompany me to my husband’s, and I didn’t want to learn from her how to cook what she knew her son loved most.

Worst of all I was pressing for a small wedding after my family had ‘hijacked’ the administrative ceremony to our village where her all family couldn’t come.

We survived for six years, and by the time I was leaving, I had lost 2 children, had 2 others, had been physically, mentally and emotionally abused, had dirtied, hurt, almost killed myself, and at some point weighed 115 kgs.

I had done it all, and I always remembered how, when I wept bitterly at the loss of my daughter ‘Ange-Claire’ and asked my mother what I had not yet seen at my 30 years of existence, she said I had not yet seen anything. There was still much more I was going to see and go through, she said.

I could not blame any other person but myself and I was from the second year of that marriage, looking for yet some other refuge; this time around, a way out of there.

A gentle aunt of mine affirmed that marriage was supposed to be a 50-50% investment by both parties, but I dread calculating how much each of us actually put into the marriage. I can only speak on my behalf, and I think I put in something revolving around 30%.

It was crazy I never thought of the cute, loving, sincere friend stuff when marriage ‘hovered’; but even if I had, to what good would it have been, as if I were also still that cute and worthy and all.

All this said, you can easily imagine the woman I was when I got married and how further despicable of myself I felt when I left. To make matters worst, I left my sons behind (3) in total. It was and still is hard. I will be writing on this in subsequent posts.

I know marriage is supposed to be out of love, but I hoped the love was going to grow as we did.

Yes, love is and should always be the foundation of any relationship.

Yet, if that love should fade out because it is not nurtured or diverted to other avenues or partners, then even the ‘refuge’ we think we can make out of marriages, become emotional jungles and jails.

Well, I am much better today than I was when I left in 2011, and I able to share my hurtful past and learn from others too. I have discovered several networks and bloggers since coming to Belgium and I know, that the current relationship I am trying to build, is not considered a Refuge!

A poem I read on my friend Dennis blog, also hastened my publications because it was about a refuge too.

“As featured on the Divorce Magazine“.

And you my gentle followers, what say ye about such a saga?

Dare to close some doors…

Dare to close some doors...

Who loves to have those many doors to be opened and some leading to nowhere?

Well, not me and so I decided to start closing some of such doors in my life and yes both personal and professional doors.

Right here on my blog, there’s a page (Women’s Empowerment) which gets no feedback meaning what I post there isn’t what my gentle followers are looking for.

Hence I am closing that door (just did) and instead not leaving it there out of pride and all!

Life to me is more meaningful now and this way.

And to you, my gentle followers,  what’s your take?

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