On Two things

Photo by me - Angel of light guiding the streets

Hi, from me and the two pimples that appeared on my face as I thanked God it was Friday. One pimple sits right in the middle of my forehead like a bindi and the other on my chin. Both slightly painful and a color close to hot pink.

I decided to sharply read the first chapter from the book, Nearly all the men in Lagos are mad before I send this letter only for me to find myself on the 4th chapter. Looks like I might finish the book in way less time than planned.

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On Two things

I spent the holidays with my siblings, as usual. I’m almost convinced that arguing is part of their love language. They argue about cornflakes, games, movies etc etc.

I don’t remember where I first heard or read the statement “two things can be true” but it has come in as a handy tool to quell arguments and save everyone’s dignity and choice. When I notice that the argument is getting out of hand or I simply need them to be quiet, I step in, tool in hand, and remind them that two things can be true. I back it up it by saying “the reason why there are varieties on the market is because different people like different things.”

It’s okay for two things to be true. Kelloggs is the best cornflakes to me. Good morning or Nasco cornflakes could be the best for you and congrats to you. It’s fine so far you’ve found the best cornflakes for you. That’s really what matters.

I’m going into the week arguing less with people about stuff especially in cases where two things can be true. I don’t have to always agree with your choice or opinion. My choice can be right and yours too can be right and we can just live in peace. I’m reminded about one of my favorite songs by The Cavemen who unfortunately I couldn’t see in concert the whole Detty December, Biri.

The song means to let live. You live and you let any other person live. Everybody can live in harmony. I tell them, the way your faces are different is the way your choices and tastes will be.

(In all these types of cases sha because there are cases where we have to agree.)

Written with a belly full of Sunday rice, plantain and chicken + sadness in my heart because my siblings are out and no one to run errands for me + ears listening to the whirring sounds from my fan.

Over and out,

Chidinma