gist

Monday, 13 February 2017

fire up girl!


Let these words serve as fuel and matches...
Let it set you ablaze..

I don't think the world has ever needed strong women like it does today...
Girls who will rise through fire and burn with greatness instead of letting the fire burn them out...

Don't just look for a job look for your purpose... Don't just pursue money... Pursue impact...
Change this world with your uniqueness...
Don't rest till you find out what you were created for and give your life to get it done..

We should be more aware that we are invested with so much that will set things right in the world... No wonder God called us "help-meets" in his original plan...

Don't deny your world the opportunity to be helped... Find a dream and let it set you on fire... Then burn girl!... Burn!!!!!!!...
And when you breathe your last the world will not be able to deny that you were here...


Friday, 3 February 2017

Did you know


Have you noticed how knowledge keeps passing us daily despite how much we have at our disposal....

Well GISTers are here to say NO! to ignorance so here is #GISTDYK (GIST Did You Know)...

We encourage you to research on anything.. word/phrase/people/things/places etc and tell us something we didn't know about it...

Let me start..

Did you know!!!!!!!!!!!...

That "Goodbye" actually originated from an ancient term spelt Godbwye meaning God-Be-With-Ye...
So the next time you're saying goodbye to your mum/husband/sister or friend its not just a wish... its a prayer... May God be with ye mum😍😍

This is a fun thing you can do with your mentee as well but please share some here too let's learn together.. Just make sure it is true..

Google is your friend..

So who is with me on eradicating ignorance in GIST?🙋

Wednesday, 1 February 2017

I fear




I fear..

I fear that I wont be able to achieve what I set out for. .
I fear that I will fail and be disgraced..
I fear that after investing all my time and resources I'll be left with nothing at the end of the day..
I fear that I will die..
I feat that the people I rely on will betray my trust and abandon me..
I fear that there is no substance to my dream and I will never make it no matter how hard I try..
I also fear that I will wake up @ 50 or maybe 60 and see another person living my dream and I will regret it..
I fear that i've already written myself off as a failure if I refuse to try..
So I accept fear as a companion on this journey.. an ever present companion... I see his face everyday in my dreams and visions and when I look in the mirror..
I'm even seeing his face right now as I type..
But before his very eyes I take another step and he screams "STOP!"

And I say to him;
Dear fear;
Everytime I hear you say STOP I will take 1 more stop again because you motivate me to prove to you that all you ever said to me was a lie and I have always been right

Saturday, 21 January 2017

Episode 3 My mother's scars

I wrote Common entrance and passed with a very good result. Then for no reason my dad said I was going to a boarding school. I felt like the luckiest girl. I was relieved; so excited that I would be leaving home. No more beatings. Months latter I resumed at my school. I was too timid and scared to make friends. It was as if my mother’s spirit was haunting me. I heard her voice in my head whenever I wanted to speak to anyone. I was terrified by the thoughts of even smiling. But at least there was no beating. No physical pain. I was happy. But my happiness did not last long.

I came home for the first holiday and realized that my mum convinced my dad that it wasn’t proper for the first child to go to a boarding school and besides it was too expensive to afford. So it had been decided that I wasn’t going back. I couldn’t bear the thought of coming back to the beatings and punishments so I ran.

My parents searched for me till midnight. My father searched with loving concern but my mother searched with fuming anger. I spent the night at a motor park not too far from the house. I was so scared. I wanted to return back home but I was too scared to move in the dark. I couldn’t sleep. I patiently waited for day break and when it came I quickly headed back home. I wish I didn’t.

My father had left the house in search of me. I met my mother alone. She took a long look at me and smiled sarcastically. I shivered with fear. She asked me to go to the bathroom and wait for her. I obeyed, knowing that I was about to get the beating of my life. Oh I wish it was beating, it would have been far better. She entered with a bucket of hot boiling water, fetched a boil and poured in on my feets. “next time let me see the lets you will use to run away”. She hissed and walked away. I screamed with all the strength I had. Why does this woman hate me so much?

My Dad came back an hour or more later he was furious when he heard what had happened. He broke raw egg and applied it on my leg and tummy He rushed me to the pharmacy they applied some ointment. I felt better. I didn’t know if it was the love or the ointment that brought relief but I did feel better especially when he decided that I was going back to the boarding house.

Visiting days I look forward to seeing him. My mother never came but I didn’t care. The holidays were still the same but I got accustomed to the pain. I began to learn how to avoid her and life got easier. But it didn’t change the fact that I had been crushed on the inside. I became a very boring and dull person desperate for love. I felt so useless that I found it strange when my collegues gave me gifts or said good things about me. I wondered how other people could love me when the woman that gave me birth didn’t. I was psychologically and emotionally damaged.

I moved from secondary school to the university but life didn’t get any better. Yes away from pain, sorrow and depression yet I lived in fear I could not do much for myself I felt she was looking at me from behind watching my every move. Dad made it his responsibility to call me every day and encourage me and that made me happy. I always looked forward to his calls. 
Life was hard living it. I thought of suicide many times or slitting my wrist but the fear wouldn’t not let me. I had a very low esteem; always looking down when I walk. It was either at home, in class, church or market. I never had the confidence to build a social life.

But may 19th, the worst happened..


To be continued

Friday, 20 January 2017

Advocacy Visit to Sumaila LGA in Kano Nigeria


Photos from the GIST advocacy visit to Gani in Sumail lga in Kano state Nigeria in preparation for the health talk/ Sanitary pads distribution project next week..
We choose to go by public transport so as not to miss out on any details of the community as well as be able to interact with its members and yes it was worth it.. (I even made 2 new friends in the car..lol)
The people are very welcoming and we look forward to having an exciting time with them next week...
Please keep your gifts coming..
Sumaila girls are waiting!...
God bless us 



Thursday, 19 January 2017

Episode 2 My mother's scars



He didn’t expect my next action. I grabbed my tray and struck him on the head with all my strength. He fell backwards screaming and I ran out, leaving my tomatoes spilled all over his room. I continued to run till I reached safety then I realized what I had done. I had just thrown away N700 worth of tomatoes. I was so sure I was going to die that day.

Standing by the road and thinking about my life then I heard - "buy slippers and sandals." “Ah” I sighed in relief. It was our neighbor mama yinka. I ran to her and told her what happened. She tried to encourage me to go home to my mother but I convinced her to come with me and she did.

Immediately my mother saw us approaching, she smiled. She and Mama yinka exchanged plesantaries as she then explained my plight. My mother thanked Mama yinka for saving my life. I was shocked. I wasn’t going to get any beating. But I was totally wrong. Mama Yinka left and my mum asked me to go inside and get changed. With great relief I went into the house jumping happily as I took my clothes off.

I didn’t know my mother was behind me. As I took out my pant, I heard a loud bang on the back of my head. I fell forward but before I could regain myself she had pin me down, ripped my clothes, rubbed fresh pepper in my eyes, body and private part then pushed me outside naked.

I couldn’t see. I was rolling on the floor screaming in pain. I screamed for my father. I was so sure I was going to die but I wanted to see him one last time. A neighbor helped me to  the bathroom and washed me thourghly but the pain didn’t stop. I continued to scream and my mother came and chased the neighbor away, giving me a few more slaps to shut me up. I tried with all my energy to suppress the sobs. With each sob I got an extra slap. The pain was excrutiating.

I couldn't see properly for a day or two. I asked my younger sister about my dad and she said he was out of town. My grief intensified when I heard my mother telling a neighbor that my dad had gone to a neigbouring village in search of greener pasture and would only be around during the weekends. I was devastated. I wanted death so desperately

Days turned into years and the torment continued. My father got so engrossed in trying to make ends meet that he didn’t notice I was dying. I hardly ever saw him but I didn’t blame him either.

Then soon a ray of hope appeared.


To be continued

Tuesday, 17 January 2017

Episode 1 My mother's scars

There is not much to remember growing up with my 5 siblings. I was the first child, then my younger sister and 3 younger brothers. My dad said he named me Lola because i reminded him of his late mother. He loved me so much like i was her. But my mum.. Hmmmm.. The case was different with my mum.

Things were a bit difficult for us then. My dad was a hardworking construction worker
but he wasn't making enough to cater for us all and my mum just had a small shop in front of the house so I had to hawk after school around the area as a child right from when i was 10. I started going long distances to help with the financial situation at home. My mum was tough and hard on me. She called it home trainning but It was almost as if i disgusted her. She quickly embraced every chance she she got to beat me. My second name to her was "fat useless idiot". Yes I was really fat; as round as a basket ball. lol. And i loved to eat too but i hardly ever got enough food except at night when my dad was home. I had no play time. If I was ever caught playing I got the beating of my life. I would stay and watch other kids playing and wished I was with them. I got slapped repeatedly at the slightest provocation. Getting kicked in the back and knocked on the head was a normal everyday routine. It was so bad that I summoned courage one day to ask my Dad if she was really my Mom. If not I wanted to know who my mom was. He replied with a smile “You’re just a child. She is your mom so obey her”. He had no idea how badly I was being treated since he worked till late at night and I was too afraid to tell him the details because I feared she might kill me.


I went for my usual hawking of tomatoes one faithful evening. I heard someone call me "Mai tomato come". I turned and saw a man wearing a long black robe. He beckoned to me to come. I was scared but I needed to sell these tomatoes or else I would sleep with body pains so I went. The man asked how much and I told him. He smiled mischievously and said “innocent girl, come inside come collect your money joor”. I followed him inside the gate and the next thing I knew, I was in his room. He was looking at me still with that mischievous smile as he started loosening his belt to take his trouser off. I was terrified. I could not shout because all my childish mind could think of was “mama will kill me today”. She said I should never enter someone’s house and here I was standing in a man’s room. Fear and confusion led to tears and as he grabbed my trembling body. “Sir abeg.. Abeg” Those were the only words I could utter as he tried to force me to the bed. That was when I realized that I feared rape more than being beaten.

To be continued..