No time or experience embraced the challenge of conquering Friday evenings. I never helped either; I was enjoying the consistent defeat of the Ultimate Search of a special time or moment which could top the list. It was always Friday evenings, not because of the popular “TGIF”, I mean, I was just ten years. I had no idea that the “TGIF” abbreviation would exist someday.

Well that aside…

Back then, Friday evenings excited me because they broke the strong wall of anticipation and of course, the blaring unique sound of the horn of my father’s ash coloured Nissan Bluebird was the red button of my “excitement explosive”. 

“Daddy!” That was the green light to the power race of the Umahi siblings. We would jump on him. Next was to box all corners of his ears with different news in descending order; the latest to the staled while our eyes looked out for fresh corn, bananas, groundnut or his mouth-watering homemade stew. As our feet smelt the door, my head would go through my mind in search of answers on the whereabouts of my book.

It was our father-daughter tradition, to read a book and present the literature overview of the book.

Most times, my overview was denied of originality. Daddy would say; “It sounded like the author”. I was fortunate to chance on better understanding. It was that moment I realised that all he wanted was to hear my voice, the same voice, a voice that would represent me in all I write.

It was the dawn of the beginning!

At eighteen, I would write, read and trash! I wrote essays for competitions but they were never submitted. Not even my close friends knew I could write and my best friend, Sandra was just aware of my passion for literature but daddy knew. He didn’t want to push not because he couldn’t but the purpose might be misinterpreted to an unadulterated false story of “He wants me to chase his passion”. However, he knew it would happen hence; he encouraged me with a big fat smile after each read. That was soothing!

Then 2015, the hunger was insatiable. I knew a blog would feed it comfortably but I was scared to make a move.

What entertains people better than gossip and celebrity gist? That! I know not how to offer.

I wanted a platform to share my ode to life. Every new week, the plan would be “retouched” but nothing still happened. It was the fear, fear of the unknown. Assassinating it was in the plan but who battles with herself?

The resounding rhythm in my heart;

“Many would disagree with views I am yet to know and it would be my fault because, I decided to fill every blank space of the platform with the breaths of my feelings.”

By 2017, I had watched all seasons of Two Broke Girls. Like more than twice multiplied thrice. Ha ha! The foundation of that movie was comedy mixed with sarcasm. Maybe, I needed that art for future defensive word martial art. Well, it was an honest LIE. Everyone is not designed not to hurt me!

I am a 21st century teacher; I believe bad behaviour is an opportunity to teach good behaviour. Hence, criticism whether constructive or silly is an opportunity to enhance and rebuild when needed.

I was left to focus on the passion, the vision and their hunger to give exciting experience to others. The fear was brutally beaten though I received few bunches but I was not harmed.

Now! Be free to call me a Non-Science Scientist (if the words never existed, it just did!), who has unintentionally completed an unprofessional personal experiment on what you achieve when you fear the unknown outcome of people’s thoughts or ideas concerning your project. NOTHING! I hope that answer sticks forever.


Today, like my ten years old self welcoming my father to read my words, I re-welcome you, my day one readers and welcome you, my fresh readers into my journey of bedazzling bewilderment of beautiful blue berries.


Written by Umahi Uju Vicky
Talking about myself welcomes me into the world of confusion, I mean, how else can I say that I am a passionate volunteer, a flexible teacher, a life loving blogger and Umahi Obianujunwa Victoria!