Hi all, first solo travel in 2018. I cherish traveling alone because I can read and sleep and do just as I want without feeling obliged to talk with anyone. I know aome good conversation could be struck up with a seat mate and even contact made, but on this particular trip not me oh lol!
Taveling used to be fun when I was a kid. I loved going around with my dad and asking all the questions in the world inspite being told to just shut up like my siblings and leave him to drive in peace. He still remembers to this date lol!
However, when we moved to Yaounde from Douala when I was in Grade 4, everything changed. That was a major traveling for me because it was not a to and fro. I was leaving all my bearings behind, and not happy dad hadn’t even told me of this move when he got the news from his job. I was really something to even think of that right? It is ‘not expected of good African children’ period!
Although my anxiety at traveling has gotten better and I no longer pack months or weeks in advance (up to 2015 that was me), I still love to be ready mentally and physically at least 3 days in advanve. Any on the spur trips even if fun, or not consented to, throw my psychologically off balance a while. I can’t even imagine what I’ll do if I in any last minute packing for example, left behing an item or piece of luggage lol!
Well, for now, am boarded for Yaounde again for an overnight trip. Am hoping for the best of moments and know the boys will try their best. I am reading Peace Pilgrim and well wrapped up for the AC in this dang so called VIP bus lol!
And you gentle readers and followers, what is your preferred traveling mantra? Plan and Prepare; or Up and Go?
I love that picture very much because it represents so much to me. I am cooking no doubt, but I am cooking in a some what difficult condition. Yet, am doing it with love. That is the whole line of my story at least with cooking.
From my earliest recollection of cooking for my dolly, (mud puddings and iced tea with mint leaves plugged straight from the trees lol) I loved the whole process. I got lost in the art of it all and I had fun taking myself so seriously and vital – dolly was going to stay hungry unless I cooked for her. The mockery and shun offs I got from home at the time when I offered to cook for all, only motivated me to want to cook better lol.
I also knew cooking food was more nutritional than buying food because both parents told us so. Above all, my late mami mami loved cooking, and cooking so deli, I just fell in love with cooking.
I cooked for us siblings when mum left, and for near two years when living in a single bedroom with my late brother in our father’s villa, I smuggled a kerosene cooking stove, and some food every now and then, to cook for us in that room turned home for us. You can all imagine this was traumatic but I was grateful to be able to cook for my brother who was ere so fragile and could not stand not eating like I could, much to the annoyance of step mother.
When I got married, I will cook and make little salads and deserts as often as I could. I did it with love, but oh how it started piercing my soul when hubby stopped eating what I cooked for all sorts of reasons.
Today, I am in a very good place mentally and all, and I still cook with all that love. Indeed in Belgium, my little private restaurant was baptized merry tables. Ah I wish I could a restaurant out here for real as a retirement venture maybe? Hmm, I got them talents and ideas in abundance no joke..
But now, what about eating? Hmm, I was a skinny child growing up, play in lieu of food was an ideal bargain I tried all the time. But then, I used to be forced to finish my plate so I managed to share it with the table, ground my hair, dress you name it lol
When living with my brother in that our room/cell if you may, eating was not my priority. Not knowing when next provisions would come or the chance to sneak out, jump over the fence with broken bottles and go smuggle them in, meant that I had to hoard or eat carefully. You can imagine eating lost all significance to me. Maybe only later resurfaced as a coping mechanism?
Exactly, that’s what eating became to me for half of my marital life. I started eating in abundance, topping all the yummy I cooked with ice creams and other delis from the bakery etc
When I hit 115kgs, I knew enough was enough. Breathing indeed became a problem and I had to do something.
I got so angry with myself and the world, I stopped eating period. I hid behing dry fasting from 6-6, to reduce my eating to an apple and a gladd of hot cocoa at night. Needless to say anorexia surfaced and near thrived for 18months until mum threatened then pleaded…
Today, at 77kgs, and with the real and free and lovely me now present, I eat for nourishment and out of love too. Love for me, my body, my children, my family, my guardian angel. I also keep cooking for all with love, conscious too of the effects on my physical wellbeing especially with my RA diagnosis and sometimes very painful reality…when I can’t even lift my hand.
In conclusion, I am especially grateful for all those STILL who eat what I cook with love like my boys, and to all those who understand my pull to their kitchens or loo when I visit them hahaha. Maybe I’ll also take up professional cooking on retirement?
Dear all, while wishing you a happy weekend, may I encourage you to think about why you cook or eat…and to be grateful to be able to do either or both…
Hello world, it’s Friday yuppie. I have a full day today. Sports, work until noon and the school with Gaby for their Youth Week Karoake. Last year he went with David who was still in primary, but they won some stuffs and were distracted and most were stolen. Gaby was near inconsolable and blamed me. “Mama if only you had made time to come like other parents did…”. This year, David is already in Secondary school and will be going to theirs with Alain; ha he even said he’ll bring pancakes for his class (he does great ones here and has most of his stuffs ready – his aunt gave him lots of flour, he saved for milk and sugar, I offer eggs and oil lol). I am going to work now but will be back by 1 pm because I just have to go with Gaby to his school oh…
VOA means business with Marie Abanga lol
That golly news aside, here is the big big one I have. I was interviewed by the VOA as in Voice of America yesterday Thursday February 8th at 4.30 pm. Is this news or what? I was found via online research (bravo girl keep doing all you do, you never know who is reading). They were so nice and grateful I made the time to be interviewed (ha indeed right?), and they say I’ll be contacted soon for the TV filming – hahaha oh somebody see my how far. in a special slang I shared with my brother Gabriel, we would have said I am riding high…
BBC is sorry after all dear Marie Abanga
The goofy news (as in mildly ludicrous) is that, I got courteously ‘rejected’ by BBC Africa for a filming. They had been referred to me by some person out there while they sought persons with ‘hidden illnesses/mental health stories etc’ for a documentary. The got in touch with me via facebook, email and whatsapp ha, put me on line with their director even, got the better of my story, even asking questions and taking notes, ha again, then silence for some days then baam ‘rejection’. That happened yesterday on my way back home. Had I not just finished the VOA interview, I would have honestly cried. Fortunately I hadn’t told anyone about it other than mum who was excited of course. I felt a pinch of low, rejection no matter how parceled always hurts some ego. I was like, how dare they who approached me in the first place and not the other way round? Then I started laughing…what would you advice a client you CBT Therapist? and I laughed some more
OK lovely e-family, have a laugh-ful weekend hohoho
P.s: poem written at 1.20 am – been thrashing aroumd simce 11:11 pm. Ome of those nights where dynamics & gymnastics are in place. Trolling me around. But am braving this because I have braved some before. I can at least identify some issues and will see my therapist during the day before I go to mum’s ahead of granny’s fumeral.
Scheduling this poem just because the respite I think is in the writing it and not the clicking publish
This is a fearful thought and is a question that lingers in every sub-conscious in the face of an impending uncertainty and danger.
Marie Abanga, Poet and senior Jurist, has dared to approach this question directly in her 103 paged book:
‘WHAT IS THE WORST CASE SCENARIO?’
She alone dares to fight the fear within by approaching this fear from different fronts
1. The fear of Staying
2. The fear of Leaving
3. The fear of Losing
4. The Fear of Failing
5. The fear of Being Loved
6. The fear of Loving
7. The fear of Stigma
8. The fear of Advocating
9. The fear of Dying
Marie is every other woman, a mother, daughter, sister, lover and friend. Her style and choice of words are unique and she uses her real life situations together with empirical evidence to attest to the fact that this fear is real. She insists on using the first person singular, I, just to let us, her readers know what one could actually mean when they say they have lived a life of constant fear.
In the same Memoir, she writes several deep letters to persons you might want to know of, talks about her adventures around the world. She propels courage to her readers by citing and bringing out the quotatioins of almost all the renowned big names you might know – John Wooden, Jack Canfield, Coco Chanel, Robert F. Kennedy, Janet Fitch and twenty five others.
Mental challenges are for real and they don’t discriminate. No one chooses such challenges and just the FEAR of being labelled or ‘discovered’ to be having them, can actually drive someone outright ‘crazy’.
The mental Health Activist, is conscious of what many others might be painfully and silently going through, and she will do all in her capacity to increase awareness about the importance of mental health, to enable the already affected find strength in whatever remains.
Ever since I got this book, my office work has been a nice ride. Nkwain John Paul Sam aka Genero, Douala Cameroon
P.S: Ahead of World Mental Health Day Tomorrow under the theme: Mental Health at the workplace.
Near 9 years later, I finally get the honour and grand style opportunity to show my supervisor at that time how much I appreciate her empathy when I lost my daughter the day after she was born. She was the only person I can remember from my office who called, visited and followed up how best she could in the aftermath. (2 others came along with her on that visit but that was that – I don’t hold it against anybody anyway) She understood when I’ll call the office so in tears not able to come to work. She once chastised me when I visited her and looked like whatever, to go upstairs and sleep (I must have slept 5 hours that day at her home). I can never forget. So if you ever read this, know that the whole world now knows how much I appreciate.
Not so genuine smile and weight not appreciated one bit
Picture speaks for itself
Different shades of me
A touching albeit flatering tribute from one of my lil sis in far off Tanzania
We do love life now more than ever, and we have to plan for our retirement 🙂
That was 45 mins into the early am of Jan 01, 2017
Dare to look at your pictures and picture your journey. Listen to yourself and talk to yourself. Give yourself permission to deal and heal. The new you will attract new views. It took me such a while and many twists and challenging turns, I dared and fared, I cried out and cried in, I wrote and told and now I have found a balance…I embrace a few many causes and do what I like, love and need. I have been named Phenomenal, me who was once labelled Radical. I am… and I am going to let my light shine all the way and that’s Okay…
But for her, the lawyer wouldn’t have made it: A mum in need and indeed
proud of my jouney in the midst of it all
Interviewed by a TV network on swearing in day: am I interviewlicious or what lol?
She was called to the Cameroon Bar Association first as a pupil lawyer in 2008 and then sworn in as a Barrister and Sollicitor before the Supreme Court of Cameroon on the 11th of May 2011.
In the meantime, she has been through thick and thin, and although she is not making light of what Kay Redfield Jamison has been through, she herself has had an unqiet mind. Indeed, all her professional prowess didn’t stop her from getting so depressed in 2009 and picking up a knife to attempt suicide while five months pregnant.
Marie Abanga has developed and been guided by a 3D principle: Determination, Discipline and Dedication. A legal practice she at one point almost gave up on, is now being massively revived begining with the building of a website worth every weight in gold.
p.s: I hope my journey inspires someone out there. It is possible to be and do so much and yet to suffer such tough times and mental tribulations. Morever, being at this stage doesn’t mean tough times wouldn’t come again. It means to me that I have to believe in myself even more, be my own best friend and champion, self love, self care and many more selfies, and trust myself to seek for help when I need it and above all just be me, saying it as it is. Marie Abanga the lawyer definitely makes Marie Abanga the personal and mental wellbeing coach proud. She is my first and best friend till death do us part and I love her to the moon and back. Thank you lawyer in me for persevering even when I didn’t think it was worth it anymore
mum, author, mental health advocate, therapist, inspires & motivates with personal experiences