What is Your Story?

Written by
Written by

Deolu Akinyemi

What you are about to read is a piece from a new friend and sister of mine. She has been reading from this site for a while, and one day gathered herself and contacted me. Like many of you, she felt that what I was writing was for her, and that rather than let her life pass one second at a time, she needed to get herself involved in the things she truly enjoys.  She lives over 10hours away from where I live, so meeting was difficult, but somehow we met – thanks to Holidays and Cash.

After our brief meeting that had so many other people around, we communicated again on phone once and talked about what she was doing and what she would really love to do.  I encouraged her to start her blog, and to give herself an opportunity to do what she really wants to do. I counselled her to document her progress, take pictures and really take in the feeling evoked from following her passion and heart. She decided to spend her time at an orphanage, and the piece she wrote when she came back blew my mind. Amazing things can happen when people grow in their soil. Have an exciting read.

Written by Sophia Alale (sophiaalale@gmail.com)


What is your story?
It is often said that one thing people have in common, no matter their race, bank account or age, is time. Recently I discovered something else we all have in common; a story. Every experience you face in life, good or bad, is a story worth telling. Yesterday my friends’ and I visited an orphanage in Port Harcourt, and it was a life changing experience for all of us. It wasn’t my first time of visiting an orphanage, but the impact this visit had on me, will remain a story I will tell for a very long time.
It was a home filled with beautiful children of different ages, sex and ancestry who found themselves living together in a place that is now their home, under the watchful eyes of a keeper they all refer to as father and it doesn’t matter where anyone of them was picked from, in their hearts they see each other as brothers and sisters. Every child in that home had an amazing story; some of their stories would make a grown man weep, while some would only show you how wicked and callous a person can be. What struck me particularly was a little girl I will love to refer to as Sunshine that had been blind from birth, she had to be led to the dining room, through the stairs, and even to a person just in case she wanted to say hello. Amazingly however, that child had the happiest smile I have ever seen in my life; everything seemed to excite her; my hair; my wrist watch; and the couch I sat on.
Little Miss Sunshine as I love to call her is trapped in a dark world, a world that cannot recognise colours, and closes its eyes to nature’s beauty. In her world you can’t tell if its day or night, cloudy or sunny, all you see is black, not grey; black. I wonder what thoughts go through her mind; does she imagine what her fingers look like? Does she long to see all the people behind the voices she hears?  She might never be able to tell the difference between blue and pink, she might never see a butterfly or admire the early morning sun; she might never see the full moon in its grandeur or the stars that twinkle in the bright blue sky.
Please don’t feel sorry for miss sunshine because in her darkness she has brought light to many hearts. Her smile opened my eyes to the beauty of life and all that God has so graciously given me.

What is your story?

It is often said that one thing people have in common, no matter their race, bank account or age, is time. Recently I discovered something else we all have in common; a story. Every experience you face in life, good or bad, is a story worth telling. Yesterday my friends’ and I visited an orphanage in Port Harcourt, and it was a life changing experience for all of us. It wasn’t my first time of visiting an orphanage, but the impact this visit had on me, will remain a story I will tell for a very long time.

It was a home filled with beautiful children of different ages, sex and ancestry who found themselves living together in a place that is now their home, under the watchful eyes of a keeper they all refer to as father and it doesn’t matter where anyone of them was picked from, in their hearts they see each other as brothers and sisters. Every child in that home had an amazing story; some of their stories would make a grown man weep, while some would only show you how wicked and callous a person can be. What struck me particularly was a little girl,  I will love to refer to as Sunshine -that had been blind from birth, she had to be led to the dining room, through the stairs, and even to a person just in case she wanted to say hello. Amazingly however, that child had the happiest smile I have ever seen in my life; everything seemed to excite her; my hair; my wrist watch; and the couch I sat on.

Little Miss Sunshine as I love to call her is trapped in a dark world, a world that cannot recognise colours, and closes its eyes to nature’s beauty. In her world you can’t tell if its day or night, cloudy or sunny, all you see is black, not grey; black. I wonder what thoughts go through her mind; does she imagine what her fingers look like? Does she long to see all the people behind the voices she hears?  She might never be able to tell the difference between blue and pink, she might never see a butterfly or admire the early morning sun; she might never see the full moon in its grandeur or the stars that twinkle in the bright blue sky.

Please don’t feel sorry for miss sunshine because in her darkness she has brought light to many hearts. Her smile opened my eyes to the beauty of life and all that God has so graciously given me.

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