Heartstrings and Keynotes's Blog

tugging the strings of your heart…and playing the notes by tapping the right keys…

My Dreams


You lie on your bed
Thinking, dreaming, imagining
The life you want to have
The things you want to do
The person you want to be.

Then a thought creeps in,
Disturbing your fantasy
Reminding you of your reality
Who your parents are
Where you are
What you have
Your weaknesses and your non-existent strengths.

Like a soap bubble that hits a wall
You snap out of the dreams
How will they ever be?
You are just ordinary.

You see that lady in the newspaper?
The one they are celebrating,
She used to wonder too, just like you.
You see that man that sounds so eloquent?
The one who stops a room when he walks in,
He didn’t know his dad and he moved towns a few times too many.

So you see my dear,
It’s not about your pedigree or your degree
It’s not about how much you have or how much you don’t have
It’s about who you are.
I know you are scared,
But don’t be.
I know you don’t want to tell
For fear of being laughed at
But you can tell me your dreams
I can make them come alive.

“They’re ridiculous! “, you say,
” Where will I even start from?”, you ask,
“Relax. “, I say,” I’ve got you. “.

” No matter where you are from, your dreams are valid. ” – Lupita Nyongo’o

Now to Him Who, by (in consequence of) the [action of His] power that is at work within us, is able to [carry out His purpose and] do superabundantly, far over and above all that we [dare] ask or think [infinitely beyond our highest prayers, desires, thoughts, hopes, or dreams]–
Ephesians 3:20 AMP

Letter to Mama

Dear Mama,
It’s another mother’s day this year,
And you are still here.
You don’t know how good it feels to know that whenever I call, you are on the other side of the line,
Listening to me pour out my heart
Rejoicing with me when it’s good news
Comforting me when it’s otherwise.
You are my rock.

I guess it’s true what they say
That you can’t teach an old dog new tricks
Because I only ask one thing of you sometimes-
To be selfish and take care of yourself
But you never listen,
You always put the needs of others before yours.
You are selfless.

I know this is a past you want to put away forever
But seeing the alarming rate of unfortunate incidents, permit me to open up an old wound Mama.

I want to thank you for leaving him,
I know I was young then and it may seem like I didn’t know much,
But I am older and wiser now.
You could have stayed,
Stayed to make us look like a happy family,
Stayed so my friends and teachers wouldn’t ask me where my daddy was.
You could have listened to all of them when they told you to endure the beatings and be patient,
When they opened the Bible and showed you only scriptures of how to be submissive and what a good wife should be.
You took it all; the rejection from your family, the criticism from your church and the abuse from him.
You took it all for me.

But thank you for deciding you had had enough Mama, on that horrible day when he almost killed you and I tried to save you, and he almost killed me too.
Something in you snapped when you saw his hands around my neck,
Like you were the only one who he could do that to, you could take the beatings for both of us but you wouldn’t let him torture me too.
That day, you saved both our lives.

I know we had a rough start, a really rough one,
But look where we are today
Together, we grew stronger, we pulled through.
I still hear the gossips some times,
But they don’t know about us.

Thank you Mama
For being brave
Thank you for choosing me
Thank you Mama,
You are my hero.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Tell Me Something

I have some questions. Permit me to ask please.

How do you do it?
How do you live like it never happened?
Like those years of your life never were and this is a brand new you?
Years of sharing the events of your day with this special someone and you can live today like the person never existed
Even pencils leave marks no matter how hard you erase
So how do you forget so easily?
How does someone who was your everything become just another face on the street?
Do you forget the kisses?
The smell of their perfumes and the jokes you shared?
Do you walk away, shut the door and never ever fiddle with the key in your pocket?
How do you sleep so soundly
Knowing the one you once called “soul mate” is asking questions about what went wrong?
I used to think if a glass window got shattered because of a stone throw, we changed the glass
But these days, we move out of the house
Leaving behind the pictures on the walls and their old shoes
Leaving broken hearts behind
Selective amnesia is an easy diagnosis
And you expect them to be strong, to move on
But how do you want them to do that when moving on for them was a future with you?
Don’t you hurt also?
Like a tide from the ocean, you collapse the castles you were building together
And expect it all to be okay.

Tell me how you do it,
Tell me how you tell your heart to stop loving the one who taught it to love in the first place.

Church – Hunting

Since I moved to Lagos,  a lot of things have changed and I have had to make some lifestyle adjustments. One major one question I get asked all the time is what church I attend.
Now anyone who knows me knows how important church is to me, not just the attendance but the word and the family. I find that I am still really attached to my church back at home; I still listen to messages and running back home whenever I can.

Since I moved to Lagos, I have attended just a few churches – Ikoyi Baptist Church, Restoration Bible Church, Elevation Church, Kingsworld International,  Household of David and Noble House Christian Centre. Quite a few right? And I have been invited to many more,some I have turned down mainly because I still don’t know my way around and I don’t want to get lost. So why is it so hard to pick one? I really don’t know.

Has anyone else been caught in this church web when they moved to a new city? Please share your thoughts, it will make me feel better to know I am not the only one in this dilemma.

Your Little Girl

It’s been two years since they took her away
Even if the world isn’t counting, you are
Even if the world forgets, you don’t
They say it’s better for you to lose your child to death than for your child to go missing
The nightmares have reduced, though you still see her in the face of every teenage girl that walks past you
Normalcy has slowly returned back into your life, even though you don’t want it without her.

Then you hear about the video
It’s your neighbor that comes to inform you about it first,
You wonder what she is talking about
Then she shows you, it’s a video of the girls
You immediately see her face
You want to reach out and pull her out of the 5″screen
You want to remove those clothes of despair they’ve made her wear
But you can’t
Once again, you are reminded of how you failed to protect your little girl
A dagger has been put into the wound that refuses to heal and it hurts all over again.

Don’t lose hope.
Where there is life, there is hope
Someday soon she will be in your arms again
Be strong for her
Be strong.

#bringbackourgirls #chibokgirls #2yearson

This is an impressive project. Maybe we can’t change the world, but we can positively impact a community and change their world. I plan to donate to this benevolent cause and I want you to do so too. Basic amenities like water, shouldn’t be a luxury. Please.



Dear friend,

Thank you for taking the time to check out this page. I want you to know that I really, really appreciate it and believe it will be worth your while.

My name is Oluwatomi Adeoti. I am a medical doctor currently enrolled in the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) with State Code Number GM/15B/0153. I began my service year in November 2015 and was posted to Gombe state. My place of primary assignment (PPA) is a clinic located in Ashaka, a village in Funakaye Local Government Area of Gombe state.

On resumption of duties at my PPA, I began to interact with the locals and to see the gross need for intervention in the areas of health education, water supply and nutrition. Having been encouraged during the NYSC Orientation Camp, to identify the needs of my host community and try to meet them, I decided to do this…

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Things To Do In Lagos Traffic


Traffic congestion is one of the features of a major city, and Lagos being a metropolitan one doesn’t disappoint. In fact, it can be labeled the “Traffic capital” of Nigeria.
If you did a Vox populi and asked random people to list three words that described Lagos, I am certain “traffic” will be on a lot of people’s lips.
If you have ever been stuck in traffic, you will understand the essence of this post. Let’s get to it, shall we?
1. Devotion
I decided to try this during my morning rush to work. I usually don’t get to do a proper kick-off because I am trying to avoid traffic and get to work as early as possible. So rather than rush my prayer or Bible study, I do it on the bus ride. I listen to  messages while walking (don’t cross the road with earphones ó!) or in the bus.
So you can try this, tongue stroll(or rather drive) while driving to work or even on your way back home, listen to a message etc. Just use this extra time to connect to heaven.

2. Return those missed calls
You know those calls you missed because you were busy at some meeting, or those messages you didn’t get around replying? You could do all those whole waiting for the traffic to clear. Don’t forget to use your handsfree if you are driving though.

3. Plan
You can keep a notepad or planner or use your smartphone to take down notes and make plans while in traffic. It’s a great way to buy time when you feel like time is wasting.

4. Decorate your house
You can buy almost everything in Lagos Traffic. I once joked with my friend that if you got called for a job interview while in traffic, you could buy everything you needed for the interview in Lagos traffic – shirt, trousers, belt, tie, wristwatch, iron, extension box that works with your car etc. It’s amazing! The vendors sell wall stickers and even bath tub mats. It never ceases to amaze me.

5. Buy a book or a magazine
Get informed, get enlightened. You could buy a book, start reading it in traffic and finish it before getting to your destination. You know how time flies when you are reading a book because you are just immersed in this different world and instead of you being cranky from all the time that you have wasted.

I will stop here and let you guys add to this list. What else do you do in traffic? Tell us.

Lagos Has Changed Me


Lagos has changed me.

I never used to sleep without clothes on. Not even on the hottest nights. I had (yes, had) this theory of in case of incasity, always have something on.
Then I moved to Lagos, and I had to disprove my own theory because after a cold shower, the sweat comes back and power outage is more of a permanent situation.

Lagos has changed me.
I didn’t know a great meal of amala and abula was a luxury until I moved to Lagos. The seasoning in the soup is either to much or the soup is too cold or the amala isn’t as soft as I would like it to be. The ogufe too isn’t always as tender and definitely more pricey.
All I want is a steaming plate of amala, abula and ogufe.
But Lagos has taught me that’s asking for a bit too much.
I’ll have ewa agoyin instead.

Lagos has changed me.
I used to think what I experienced on my trips to UI from UCH was traffic, or the annoying experience on the way home to Akobo.
But Lagos has redefined traffic for me.
People drive cars without air-conditioning in Ibadan,and it’s not much of a bother;the superhero status in Lagos should have this as a qualifying factor.

Lagos has changed me.
I would never enter a bus that charged me 200 naira within the city  until I got to Lagos. That could take me round the city where I come from (OK, I’m exaggerating ). A cab of 500 naira was a decent fee until Lagos changed me. These days, I look away when a yellow taxi stops in front of me. No, thank you. I’ll rather walk.

Lagos has changed me.
They say you don’t know the value of what you have until you lose it. I agree, I never thought I would think of Ibadan as “cheap”. Prices that I was begged to pay for back home, I would jump at if offered in Lagos.
Like I have learnt to do and I am still learning day by day, I am renewing my mind- putting away the Ibadan mentality and embracing the hustle and bustle of Lagos.

Lagos Has Changed Me.
I haven’t blogged in a while, but here I am.
Maybe it’s a good change after all.

For Our Fathers (Finale) : My Real Daddy


Good evening!
This is the final post in this series and if I can say so myself, it has been a wonderful one. I want to thank everyone that featured :
Bablo @ToluBablo
Ojuolape @JuolaO
Aunty Bimpe @lolamodder
Ronke @O_tega
Tokunbo @0Toxic
‘Dania @Ms_Dania
GT @blessedmouth
Jibola @JXBZVS
Tiwatayo @its_LASH
Damilola @omotookelonge
And to the designer of all the beautiful images @kunmi_owopetu.
It has been a great honor having each and every one of you on Heartstrings and Keynotes. Please feel free to stop by anytime you want.
And to you- our readers, thank you for staying with us.
To our Fathers, thank you for being who you are and for making us who we are. We appreciate you. We celebrate you.
Today’s story is by me @pizzazz890.

For Uncle Tunde Adegoke

I remember going through albums of me as a child and seeing you by my side. Of course, neither you nor mother ever gave me a good-enough reason for why I didn’t have first birthday party pictures like the other kids in my class. Now, in hindsight, I am grateful you lied to me. I needed to unearthen the truth myself.

I grew up stubborn and tough. I wasn’t ready to bend to your rules. Blame puberty and forgive me. I wanted to be a lady by myself. You wanted to guide me. But I pushed you away.

I watched you go on to love Sade and Folake. I rebelled more. Mother brought out the whip, while you pleaded  with your eyes. You winced at every lash but you never stopped her. You knew it was for my good. I hated you for it. I hated Sade and Folake for taking you from me.

Then that cruel day came, the day I found out the truth. The day all my age long questions got answered. Why I was fair-skinned when everyone else in the family had beautiful chocolate skin. Why my hair wasn’t lustrous like the twins’ and mothers.

“Why is another man’s name on my birth certificate Mother?”. I still remember the tremble in my voice. I was trying to be strong, trying to brace myself for the truth.
“We need to talk, Mayowa.”, and talk we did. She told me everything about myself. I was a bastard. My father didn’t want me. My self-esteem crashed that night. I couldn’t understand how anyone else would want me if my own father didn’t. And I let a man who I had never met control me.

You tried all you could. You loved me through it all but I rejected your love. I hated you. I cursed you. I  made you pay for his mistakes. But you never stopped. Even when I stopped picking your calls and I stopped coming home, you still reached out to me. You stretched out that olive branch, but I was too stupid to see clearly. I was blinded by rage to recognize true unblemished love.

I searched for him and I found him. I thought finding him would fix me. I wanted him to accept me and be my daddy. I recognized the lanky figure and the brown hair and knew where my looks came from. My heart skipped for joy, but only for a while. He didn’t smile back when I smiled. He didn’t hug me
back when I hugged him. I left feeling emptier and more hopeless.
You found me in bed, overdosed, on the verge of death. You saved my life. My hero.

Daddy. I know I haven’t called you that in a while. That’s what you are to me- my daddy. I may have his looks, but you gave me your heart. You taught me everything I know. You made me a woman. You loved me like I was the fruit of your loins. I was a fool, but you looked beyond my foolishness. I am forever grateful to you.

As you know, I found a man, one like you, who will love me when I am lovable and when I’m not. I just need one last thing to make sure I’m in safe hands. I need you to walk me down that aisle and place my hand in his. Will you do me this honour, Daddy?

Fathers are not just those who give us life, but those who teach us how to live.
Dedicated to  my father, Dr. Ayo Williams and my friend’s dad, Dr. Akuse and to every man who plays the role of a father.

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