One year has just passed by and Ovasabi has gathered 7,944 followers worldwide. It’s unbelievable. If I were a pastor, I would be a mega church. If I were a general, I would have been one heck of a fierce army. If I were a politician, my readers would have given me at least the Chairman of a local government. But I am Ovasabi, I know, I know!
It doesn’t take anything away from me just to say thank you to 7,944 visitors who ventured into my world of storytelling in 2020. In 2019, we were 871 visitors. I am so humbled. I just want to tell y’all a big, fat THANK YOU. You guys are truly awesome.
I still consider myself an amateur blogger who is still trying to find his niche. As I write these words, my street boomerangs with the sound of fireworks. The bangs from bangers and knockouts, as the fireworks are usually referred to in this part of the world, pierces the mute night skies while a solitary voice from pastor assures his congregation of God’s blessings during the New Year.
As I write these words, its exactly 11.31 pm. Our public power supply is suddenly interrupted. This is normal. Nigeria, with its vast crude oil resources, is notorious for not being able to provide 24 hour stable electric power supply.
The power outage increases the volume of silence provided by the night. You could hear a deafening, “aameeen!” as a congregation, applaud their pastor’s positive preaching. This church seemed to have dared the curfew enforced by the state government. They don’t seem to care a hoot. One explanation could be that my street is within the interiors of Victory estate where police or government agencies will not harass them.
At this very moment, my four teenage daughters have cuddled themselves under their mosquito nets. Two of them share a bed and they share a rechargeable hand fan supported by a power bank. The other two girls aren’t so lucky as they have to make do with plastic hand fans. I sleep with my wife and the baby of the house, our fifth child, Ezra. He is so adorable. We all share one bed and one mosquito net in my bedroom awaiting 2021.
As I conclude this write up, I hear neighbours screaming, “Happy New Year!” Ezra, my two-year-old, is awakened by the roar of fireworks. The pastor screams his final prayers and the banging of fireworks continues.
I wish to thank one of my readers, Dr. Jacob Labs for suggesting that I add a donation page to my blog. I have done that already. If you are kind enough to want to assist with a monetary donation, you may click here or get to the bottom of this article or simply lick on menu at the home page of this blog and access the donation page.
May your river never run dry, especially in 2021.