The Fragrance of Hope

I guess it would be somehow unsettling if you spotted someone wearing a blinding-bright yellow cotton dress in the grocery store on an overcast, rainy, piercing cold winter day, right? For me the answer is Yes, Because most of us usually associate winter with gray, dark, or dull colours, even in the way we dress.

Today, I was waiting for the light to turn green around Kirstenbosh area when I suddenly noticed a collection of stems with bulbs ready to burst open! They looked like tiny protea plants, and then I recalled that Cape Town is one of six floral kingdoms in the world, with millions of different species.

Lately I heard many talks by radio DJs getting excited about 1 September being the first day of Spring, but today, this moment was very different – nature was speaking directly and personally to my heart. The message was that “it was ready” for a change. “It was ready” to burst open.

As erratic as it is, Spring is the season of transition. Spring represents so many things to so many people – blossoming, colours, rebirth, renewal, regrowth, life, change and so on, a common denominator being the “awakening of the senses”. In fact, several places around the world celebrate the start of Spring, like the “festival of colours” in India.

If flowers trigger a sense of smell and are synonymous with beauty, then Spring definitely comes with a fragrance, and with a burst of colour.

But what does all this mean to our souls?

Here are some practical exercises I suggest you reflect on as we experience the natural transition from Winter into Spring:

a. If you had an opportunity to colour your experiences this past winter (spiritual, emotional, financial, relational, personal growth) what colours and shades will you use?
b. When you imagine the months ahead, what colours do you see splashed in your life story?

These two questions will help you to put your expectations and passion in perspective.

Lastly, remember this when you look around you: Nature is giving you permission to dream in rich colours. Live life colourfully in the next season. Choose the colours that are big, bold and bright. Be that lady with a bright yellow dress in the shopping aisle this Spring!

“If you've never been thrilled to the very edges of your soul by a flower in spring bloom, maybe your soul has never been in bloom.” - Terri Guillemets

“The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day he created Spring.” - Bern Williams

Kogeria Match Day in Delightful Durban

“The warmest place to be in 2010” has been the marketing line for Durban during the FIFA World Cup! Durban promises great weather, mouth-watering cuisines, and the only Host City with a Fan Park right on the beach!
From the time the Host Cities and games were announced, David and I had no doubt that Durban was the place to be for the World Cup, for reasons obviously greater than the food and weather. Our two countries – Nigeria and South Korea would be taking on each other.
With the game tickets, flights and accommodation sorted, finally the long-awaited day arrived. 22nd June in Durban was a delight!, a group of us were at the FIFA Fan Park, at the beachfront supporting Bafana Bafana as they fought to restore some hope in the nation’s psyche after their loss to Uruguay on June 16th.
There was passion and excitement everywhere. An endless sea of yellow and green, Hip hop artistes on stage, food stalls, multi-cultural faces, friendly security officers and obviously the deafening vuvuzela choirs, where every tune and pitch works best at distortion levels.
The Bafana Bafana game became an instant spectacle as South Africa landed the first goal against France in the first 25 minutes. The whole place caught fire. Strangers were jumping on each other and the natural dancers displaying their moves. The joy was indescribable. Being on the beach during winter watching the world cup with passionate supporters was priceless.
After that, it got even better. We made our way on foot to the beautiful Moses Mabhida Stadium, to watch Nigeria play South Korea. The architectural design of the stadium is the most admired among all others. Stepping into the stadium alone gave me an endorphin rush. As we settled in, the two teams took to the field as the electrified crowd cheered. Both teams needed to qualify for the next knock-out stage of the game, so the tension was as thick as glass.
There were over 61,000 people at the stadium that night, mostly wearing either green for Nigeria or Red for Korea. The game ended with a tie, but Korea moved to the next stage while Nigeria didn’t qualify.
As we exited the stadium around 10:30pm at night, meeting fans and taking photos with strangers was such fun, no actually therapeutic for me, since i was depressed that Nigeria did not qualify for the knock out stages. Everyone was on high with happiness, but at the same time very considerate and friendly. It was truly the best choice to be in Durban!
The question that remains in many minds is ”how has the game impacted on our relationship?” Well, all I have to say is that I’m glad David is not as much of a “die-hard” fan as I am.

My World Cup Woes and Wins

As you’ve probably experienced, most bearers of news will begin by asking...”good news and bad news, which one do you want to hear first?” and usually, the receiver chooses the bad first.
Flying through Johannesburg at the end of April on my return trip from Nigeria, My suitcase was broken into, and the only items only stolen were two Nigerian National Soccer Team Jerseys (Adidas Brand). I was very upset because one was a gift from my brother-in-law and the other was also a gift from me to David, my boyfriend. By the way, David and I are planning to watch our two countries take on each other in Durban, where South Korea plays Nigeria.
My second woe was recent. This time, David bought me a Nigerian flag to put on my car, and three days later, it was stolen when I left my car parked at the airport. These two unpleasant experiences put a slight damper on my world cup spirit.
Rewind button. I applied for match tickets in February, and was super thrilled when my application was randomly selected. The procedure was that you would be notified if successful, then price deducted from your credit card and finally, starting from April, you walk into a FIFA ticketing office, with all the proof in the world to redeem the tickets.
Upon receiving the instruction for collection via email, I got this dreaded picture in my head... me spending a whole day in a long cue, then finally when it’s my turn, the person behind the desk looks at my documents and says “we still need X”. Then I would have to go away, and go through a repeat of long cues again. Oh, another worst-case-scenario was that I will be told “sorry, your payment transaction failed, you have no confirmed tickets on the system!”...then what will happen to the flights, car and every other thing that was booked?
If you have ever attended a procrastination party, you are able to perfectly predict the next point. Two months passed by, and then, two days before the kick-off game, still haven’t gone for ticket collection. Suddenly, I woke up to the thought of FIFA re-selling my ticket if I didn’t collect it before the game starts!!! (Another silly fear scenario i created). So I decided today was the day (08 June).
I printed the confirmation email, my passport, proof of my residential address, along with a hand-scribbled address of FIFA Collection office. I drove into town without looking up the actual location online, but I was lucky to accidentally spot the street name I was looking for, and later on FIFA Sign! First miracle!
Then there was the problem of parking. It was full to the brim. I was told to drive in so I could make a U-turn and exit. But I had a gut feeling that I shouldn’t exit, and Bingo! I found parking, the ONLY spot available, with a string of cars behind me, scrambling to turn around and exit. That was my second Miracle.
As I get out of my car, I saw a long cue in front of me, which confirmed my paranoia. I looked further and noticed another sign that said “collection”. It had no queue, too good to be true, I thought. Upon entering, I saw some volunteers. Bear in mind that by now, I was already so defensive and apprehensive, waiting to be told a long procedure.
A lady guided me to a self-help point. She asked me if I had the credit card that I paid with, again my answer was a defensive yes. She collected the card, simply slotted it in, and out and then comes the sound of printing! In less than two minutes (no exaggeration), I had my two tickets in my hands. My mouth fell open, and the volunteers were so amused by my expressiveness.
As I walked out, there were cars trying to turn around and exit due to full parking. I realised that I didn’t even need to pay for parking, as I was there not longer than 5 minutes total.
It literally shocked me as I realised how much of my “perception of reality” and “fear” had held me back for over two months!
If there is anything to remember, “Do not always believe the scripts in your head”. In my case, I made up horrible reality in my head to a point of paralysis. Fear and self-inflicted limitations hold us back from so many wonderful, magical and memorable experiences. Once again, I’m reminded that the best way to test your fears to see if they are true is to act as though they didn’t exist. Courage is not the absence of fear, but acting in spite of fear.

Conversations That Matter

When was the last time you spent time with someone and all you experienced was the awakening of your senses, dreams and desires for the life you were born to live?
Such moments, when they are happen, are unforgettable. Something inside you shifts, as suddenly you become aware of more possibilities, options and opportunities greater than what you have imagined. Actually, some of the most powerful and transformative truths emerged from simple conversations. Partnerships, projects and priorities become established from what may be seen as “random chats”.
Every conversation we engage in has the capacity to either cement our old, existing thoughts or to chart the course for new possibilities.
You have heard many times that “listening” is a valuable part of being in a conversation. Things like not butting into someone’s sentences, maintain eye contact in order to respect the speaker etc. But very few times do we actually take the time to listen to ourselves, and honestly ask why we are having a certain conversation?
Rather than allowing unnecessary degenerative conversations and surplus waste of words, learn to take a step back and ask yourself what you are seeking in each conversation. The bible says “seek and you shall find”. You will always discover a portion of truth that will set you free.
Make it a goal to seek for something fresh and stimulating from each conversation, no matter how mundane and I guarantee you that you will constantly experience a regenerative flow in your life.
Every moment presents us with minute pieces of all that we need to change, grow and move towards wholeness.

The Symphony of Silence

Church was a little longer than usual today. I got back home around 11:30am, so I hurriedly threw a few basic things into a small overnight suitcase, packed some apples, juice and some bread of sorrow (for when I feel weak and distracted in my body).
I got on the M3 towards Constantia, as fast as the limit permits, in order to arrive in time for my so-looked-forward-to solitude retreat at a Catholic Retreat Center called Schoenstatt. I made it on time, 12noon precisely, and I knew that It was a sign I was off to a great start.

Approaching the Price Drive, my lost memory began to re-surface as my heart warmed up to the feeling of remembering my first visit, in October 2006. It felt so familiar.
I intuitively knew I needed to go through the second gate, but for the life of me, I could not remember the reception entrance this time. I walked around the block a few times, before I eventually found the entrance.
Everywhere and everything was soaked in silence, a type of quietness that could make one’s breathing sound as loud as a truck. I pressed the door bell, then hesitated…unsure who would answer the door. In less than 30 seconds, a lady-cook from the kitchen came to the door. We greeted. After the welcome, she asked me to go ahead and choose my room, because most were available.
The building has two floors and two wings, with longer corridors on the right wing. Both ground and top floors on the right have fourteen rooms, with fewer rooms on the left wing. Some rooms have two single beds, while some have only single.
I chose room No. 10 on the right wing, because it coincides with 2010.


I unpacked my small, blue suitcase, and pulled out all my retreat materials: Bible, IPOD, John Eldredge’s book (Walking with God), 3 Journals, Year Planner, Laptop (for Podcasts and study documents, not work), Highlighter, and Pens.
Quickly, I made a draft plan of what to cover in day One, considering all that I felt needed to be covered. The idea of putting everything down on paper helped me attain an incredible, clear state of mind, as my head was buzzing with thoughts and noise.
In less than 15 minutes of being in my room, I was ready to dive into my spiritual encounter. I started by reading through the entries from the last time I retreated in this place. After about 5 hours of worship, prayer, listening, journaling and reading, I looked at my watch and it was time to go for the outdoors reflection and meditation. Time simply flew by!
Grabbing my journal, bible and camera, I wasn’t sure how to get out of the building without locking myself out, knowing it would be a miracle to see another soul close by. But just in time, like an angel, I saw a white, flowing dress coming up from underneath the stairs, towards where I was standing. “Should speak, should I not speak?” “Will I make her unclean if I talk to her?” “Is she sworn to Silence?”
Through the cocktail of questions, my impulsive side got the upper hand, so I looked in her direction and asked her about how I could go out and come back in. Sister Heidi, a very soft, pleasant and polite lady, let me out and said she would keep the backdoor open for when I will get back.


The garden outside looked manicured and magical. The enchanting old and rugged trees, some with crosses nailed to their trunks, hidden meditative benches, and old paved paths altogether awakened a dimension of my spirit to pure peace. I walked around for about 20 minutes, then I entered the Shrine (like a chapel) to embrace some silence.

The tiny sanctuary was so beautifully lit, the ambience was surreal, As I sat and looked, the glowing candles were in harmony and seemed to be talking to each other. I felt uncomfortable sitting down, I fell to my knees in obedience to the posture of my spirit. I was rapt in the moment.
The Shrine as described by the Sisters, is a “Holy place of pilgrimage and prayer”. It is the life-giving source of the center, and rightly so, it is positioned in the centre of the compound.
I heard someone come in, but there was not even a twitch of desire within me to look back. Time flew by.
Then I heard a large bell, it rang three times, with a brief interval, three times again… and again. I looked at my watch, it was 6pm. I guessed that was a call for supper. I didn’t need to go and eat, as that was not on my To-Do list. However, I took that as a cue to move to my next location, the graveyard scene.


I carefully studied the row of engraved marble stones, with the names of Sisters who are no more. I counted about 26 on one line, with the last addition marked “2006”. One could see that the marble stone still looked new, hence felt like she could be some where not too far off, I felt nearer to her than the older ones, odd. Ironically, it felt like everything was alive and speaking. Actually, I looked around a few times instinctively to see if someone else was around, there was not a soul within sight.

As I continued, I came across the grave of a Father which said “born in 1931, ordained in 1961, and died in October 2008”. There were fresh flowers growing on top of the heap of dirt, also an engraved marble above where he laid his head. The dark compost made a rectangular outline, I could almost imagine the length of his coffin, which obviously made me wonder how tall he was.
I turned slightly and another symbol drew my attention, it was a huge erect marble cross, with this inscription “Our Way Leads To The Father”. It hit me in a strange but resonant way, as though I needed to catch up with a missed breath. As I stood there in profound meditation, I realized yet again another time lapse, I needed to head back to the house. Time flew by.
Back upstairs, I sat in the old chair placed at angle facing my bed, and thinking to myself “I want so much out of my time here”.
I felt an urge to write a different journal entry. I started writing this, and I was gone again. When I came back to the moment, I realized it was 7:30pm already and I needed to get to the next Discipline. So, here’s where I stop writing. Two more hours and I will put my lights off.