Mimi's Thoughts

AI – Arrival Illusion

I logged onto the Elevation Church YouTube channel this afternoon for today’s worship experience. When the time came for the sermon, Pastor Steven Furtick shared a sermon titled This Time Around. It was a good sermon but one main thing he said stayed with me: AI — Arrival Illusion.

Not Artificial Intelligence. Arrival Illusion.

He talked about someone in his thirties, a friend, who was looking forward to being in his forties because, in his mind, life would somehow be better then. Pastor Steven is already in his forties, and so he could see something this young man couldn’t yet see.

Sometimes, we create an imaginary version of the future in our heads… We tell ourselves, When I get there, things will be better.

When I get married.
When I have children.
When the children grow up.
When I get that job.
When I make more money.
When I turn forty.
When I build my house.
When this particular problem is over.

Then we arrive… And there is another problem waiting.

That was the part that really got me.

He said; “No version of your life is frustration-free. No version of your future is struggle-free.”

There is no arrival point where everything suddenly becomes perfect.

He called it AI because sometimes the future we imagine is just that… an illusion. It looks beautiful and perfect from a distance, almost too perfect to be real. Like those strange, impossibly neat AI-generated videos or photos where everything seems to happen or look exactly as it should.

He referenced the book of Joshua, chapter 6.

The Israelites had arrived at the Promised Land, but there was still a wall by the time they got to Jericho.

There had been several hitches along the way for the Israelites…
Egypt > Wilderness > Plains of Moab > Jordan River > Promised Land > Jericho.

Every stage was not easy, and at Jericho, they had to walk around the city walls… Again… And again…. And again.

Seven times… And the walls fell.

There was no shortcut around the wall simply because they had arrived at the place God had promised them.

Whether it’s a wilderness or it is a wall, we must not assume we are lost simply because we have encountered another obstacle. We have only arrived at “another wall”…

What wall have you encountered? What wall are you currently facing? Fear, Depression, Anxiety, Addiction, sickness, Financial difficulties, Guilt, Self Doubt…

…Maybe the instruction is not to turn around or stand still… Maybe it is to keep walking.

Why do I have to choose?

My niece called me this afternoon. She wanted to know if I had come across the video of a book club meeting that had become very popular on social media. At this meeting, there was a question that apparently started a whole lot of drama. When I heard what the question was, I wasn’t even surprised by how wild it got.

The question was: Chimamanda or Colleen Hoover — who is the better writer?

And my first thought was… why?

I didn’t think “why?” because I think one of them is better than the other. That In fact, is exactly my point. I don’t understand why we have to compare them in the first place.

One thing I don’t particularly enjoy is comparison. And for me, if you’re going to compare two things, there has to be some reasonable basis for the comparison.

Chimamanda and Colleen Hoover don’t write the same kind of books. They don’t necessarily write for the same reasons, in the same style, or even in the same literary space. Not at all. Not even a little bit.
They come from different backgrounds and different parts of the world… Their stories, the themes, approaches and audiences can be very different… Very very different.

So I beg the question, what exactly are we measuring?

Because if you’re going to ask me who is a better writer, my next question will definitely be… “better at what?” Gbam… Did I just Gbam my own question? Haha.

To be honest, this is where I think these social media debates sometimes become unnecessarily complicated.

Let’s take movies, for example.

Would you ask me; “Was You’ve Got Mail better than The Terminator?”

Better how?

One is a romantic comedy. The other is an action/sci-fi film. They are trying to achieve completely different things. I want to believe that I can enjoy both movies without having to decide which one is the superior movie.

Frankly, It’s the same thing with books.

Colleen Hoover writes the kind of books she writes. Her books have their own style, themes and readership. Let’s forget that many people don’t like her for whatever reasons they choose not to.
Chimamanda writes the kind of books she writes, with her own style, themes and readership… And I agree, she is a genius. I know she is a genius.

You can prefer one. Yup, of course you can.

You can say, I connect more with Chimamanda’s writing… Or you can say, I prefer Colleen Hoover’s storytelling.

You can even say, I don’t enjoy either of them. Yes… Trust me, this option exists.

All of those options are perfectly reasonable opinions.

So now when we ask, Who is the better writer? we suddenly create this imaginary competition where one person has to win and the other has to lose.

I think out loud and ask you… why?

I think one of the things we forget as readers is that books don’t all have to do the same thing.

Sometimes I want a book that makes me think. Sometimes I want something that teaches me something. Sometimes I want beautiful prose and complicated themes that leave me quizzical.

And sometimes? I just want to lie down and read a story. A simple story. That’s allowed too. It’s just like when I want to lie down and watch a simple movie I go for cheesy, sweet and simple Hallmark.

So seriously, I must say, I find some of these book debates amusing. We take two completely different things and put them in a boxing ring and then get angry because people are choosing different fighters.

Maybe the better question isn’t Chimamanda or Colleen Hoover?

Maybe it’s: What do you enjoy reading, and why?
Should I Gbam again?

The thing is, I don’t need Colleen Hoover to write like Chimamanda for me to appreciate Colleen Hoover.

And I don’t need Chimamanda to write like Colleen Hoover for me to appreciate Chimamanda.

There is room on my bookshelf for different kinds of writers.

And honestly, there is room in the world for us to like different things without turning every preference into a competition.

Not everything needs a winner.


Some books by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie:
Purple Hibiscus (2003)
Half of a Yellow Sun (2006)
The Thing Around Your Neck (2009) — short stories
Americanah (2013)
Dear Ijeawele, or A Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions (2017)
Notes on Grief (2021)
Dream Count (2025)


Some books by Colleen Hoover:
Losing Hope (2013)
Maybe Someday (2014)
Confess (2015)
It Ends with Us (2016)
It Starts with Us (2022)
Without Merit (2017)
Verity (2018)
Regretting You (2019)
All Your Perfects (2018)
Reminders of Him (2022)
November 9 (2015)
Ugly Love (2014)

Goodbye SWAT

I think I’m officially giving up on SWAT.

One of the things I told myself this year was that I was going to finish everything I started. Books, movies, TV shows… if I started it, I was going to see it through to the end.

Well, apparently, that rule has an exception.

I came for Hondo. I stayed for Bishop. Somewhere along the way, I ended up really liking Street. And now that Street is no more, I think that has made it even worse for me.

I don’t think I’m going to continue watching SWAT.

And I’m sorry, Bishop. I really am. I could have stayed for you. I tried. But somewhere along the way, I stopped getting it. The excitement is gone, and watching another episode has started to feel more like an obligation than something I actually want to do.

I even found myself stopping SWAT, going to other shows, and then coming back to it. From the time I started watching it till now, it has been too many months. I can’t be on one show for this long. At some point, I need to finish a show and move on to the next one.

And honestly, life is too short to force myself through a TV show.

I think what makes it worse is that when I compare it to The Rookie, I never had this feeling. Even when characters came and went, I still wanted to know what was happening. I still looked forward to the next episode. With SWAT, I’m now at the point where I’m asking myself why I’m still here.

So, SWAT, thank you for the memories. I’m letting you go.

Bishop, I’m sorry. I could have stayed for you.

But I just don’t get it anymore.

I think I’m going to go back to The Rookie instead. I hear Season 8 is out, so maybe that’s where I should be putting my energy right now.

Some shows you finish because you started them.

Others… you just have to accept that the relationship has run its course.

Time

This afternoon, my colleagues and I decided to come back early.

I’ve mentioned here a number of times how we carpool. I am not the designated driver anymore. We have a schedule now and we take turns driving to work and back. So, one of us wanted to come back early and was going to hitchhike back, or get public transport back to Makurdi.

But, when he came to inform me that he would be leaving without us because he wanted to go do a thing or two, I keyed into it. I called the other two, and they were game.

So, we left.

And so I got home two and a half hours, earlier than I normally do.

Before today, I had been really worried about the state of my house. It’s not in the way I normally want it. It’s been a mess.

I was even going to share how my son resuming boarding school was a thing of mixed feelings for me. I wasn’t happy he was leaving, but I was kind of happy I was going to get my house back.

…Because having a teenager in the home, no matter how well he tries to help me clean up, I think he makes more of a mess than he cleans up. 😂

He left for school six days ago and I have been looking forward to doing some cleaning. But I always get home late, and I have this thing where I rest for some time just after I get home before I do anything in the house… Getting home late and tired leaves me unable to pick myself up after I rest for a while

So, the magic of two and a half hours today is what amazed me.

I got home at about three, and I took a nap. By 5:30, I was up. I had a cup of water, checked my messages and made a few calls, and by six, I had started fixing my house.

It’s 8:23, and oh, I love how my house looks.

It’s not a hundred percent the way I want it, but it’s far from what it has been for weeks.

And that’s what has amazed me today.

Time.

Apparently, all I needed was two and a half extra hours between “I’m tired” and “Look at my house!”

Hello Substack

A couple of weeks ago, my personal assistant, a young man I’m getting to know and mentor introduced me to Substack.

He told me he had gone through my WordPress and liked what he saw. Then he asked me if I knew about Substack. I told him I had heard about it, but I didn’t really know much about it. So he sent me the link, and I joined.

I even found a few of my contacts, people I know, on Substack. I did a little reading, saw that people were sharing their writing, and I thought, okay, I could do this too.

But something hit me. It didn’t feel like me. It didn’t feel like home.

Now, looking back, I think I understand why.

Substack feels more like a general public place, where so many people have something to say. Not that WordPress isn’t that, but to me, Substack feels more like a magazine. There are so many voices, so much going on, so much interaction.

And I like that. I really do.

But WordPress feels different to me.

WordPress, where I put up my articles, feels like home.

I am the kind of person who looks forward to putting my articles together and, someday, having a collection of them in a book. I want a collection of short stories. I want to be able to gather my thoughts and words and turn them into something I can hold, something that stays.

I’m a library kind of person.

So WordPress makes sense to me. I like knowing that I can go there, or someone can stumble across it three years from now, and they can get a sense of my thoughts, my words, the things I have written over time.

They would be able to go through the different categories… love, friendships, life, God, gospel, and so on and so forth.

It feels like a collection. It feels like me.

I like the idea of being able to design the page the way I want, so that when people come, it reflects me. It reflects how I see things. It reflects the kind of space I want to create.

So, I’m not throwing Substack away.

I like the interaction there. I like the idea of meeting other writers and seeing what people are thinking and writing about. It’s very similar to WordPress and I have made some great friends here on WordPress. So, I’m going to explore it and see what it is.

But I also know that if I make it my main writing platform, I might eventually get overwhelmed with the need to keep up with the back and forth and everything that comes with it.

And I don’t want writing to become another thing I have to keep up with.

So, for now, this is me saying we Hello to Substack.

Let me see it. Let me try it. Let me participate.

Substack is where I can participate. WordPress is somewhere I belong.

And I think I’m okay with that.

My home is still my home.

And I hope to keep it for as long as I can.

Tiv…Language Improvement

I like to believe that I think in Tiv before I speak in English.

Growing up, my siblings and I went to very good primary schools, and English was the official language. We spoke Tiv at home and with friends and neighbours, but English was always taking the front seat.

But somehow, my brain keeps telling me that I think in Tiv.

Now, the thing is, my Tiv vocabulary was actually not as solid as I wanted it to be. A tad fluent but not perfect. Some words didn’t come easily, especially the deep ones.

My mom loved English, and even though she spoke Tiv with us, she was a real sucker for good spoken and written English. As a woman who excelled in secretarial studies, grew through the ranks and eventually retired as a Director in the civil service, you wouldn’t wonder why she was that way. She had been brought up by Catholic European nuns in her school days too and all that.

We were more fluent in English than Tiv.

So while I could speak English very beautifully, my Tiv vocabulary was not exactly doing the same thing.

I remember there were times when people would say something in Tiv and laugh and say, “You wouldn’t know the meaning of this,” knowing very well that we simply hadn’t learnt that much Tiv.

And they were right.

But something interesting has happened to me.

I now work in a rural area, although I live in urban Makurdi and commute to Wannune every day. And I have found myself around many Tiv people who speak the deep, concentrated Tiv language.

That deep Tiv that doesn’t stop to translate or even simplify itself into English for you.

And I’m beginning to realise that something is happening to my vocabulary.

My Tiv vocabulary has improved. Very, very much.

I actually smiled at myself the other day because I suddenly realised that there are words and expressions I understand now that I probably wouldn’t have understood a few years ago.

I’m learning simply by being around people who speak the language naturally.

And I’m so excited about it.

Because Tiv is my love language. I love this language so much.

English became the language I was very comfortable with because that’s how I grew up… And I love English… But there is something about Tiv that is difficult to explain. Sometimes, when I really want to express myself… when English suddenly feels like it isn’t quite carrying what I’m trying to say, I find myself switching to Tiv.

I think that’s why this whole thing feels so special to me.

Now, being around people who speak it so naturally every single day is giving me the immersion I didn’t have growing up.

I listen, pick up new words, I ask questions…and then I sometimes realise, “Oh! So THAT is what that word means!”

Slowly, my vocabulary is growing. It feels a little bit like discovering something that was always mine.

And I love it.

So here’s to more deep Tiv conversations. More new words. More understanding. And hopefully, fewer people laughing and saying, “You wouldn’t know the meaning of this.”

Cheers to a better Tiv vocabulary.

A lady wearing the Tiv traditional attire

Tiv is the indigenous language of the Tiv people of central Nigeria. They are particularly from Benue State. It is a beautiful, expressive language with a rich vocabulary. One thing I love is its colourful idioms and proverbs. It had a very rhythm that gives it so much character.

Mimi… Davi style

‎I can’t skip a Davi video. I think it’s because he’s very clear about his feelings. I admire that he says what most of us only think. Davi is a social media content creator. His full name is Davide De Pierro. He gained millions of followers on tiktok and instagram by making short relatable videos about relationships, dating, getting older, feelings, family and like I said before, things most of us can’t say out loud.

‎This evening, I came across one of his videos and it made me think about an incident at work and how it made me feel. My thoughts spiraled to many of my characteristics and I decided to give myself an honest open expression of who I really am. I am writing it Davi style and I may just go ahead and read it out loud on Reading with Emaistace on Spotify.

‎Here we go:

‎I like people. I genuinely do.I enjoy conversations, laughter, company, good banter, shared experiences and the kind of friendships where you can sit together and talk about absolutely nothing and everything.

‎But please, in moderation.

‎I am not the person who needs to be around people every waking moment. I can enjoy your company immensely today and still have absolutely no desire to see you tomorrow.

‎And please don’t take that personally.

‎I was friendly with you yesterday. That may cover the next three months.

‎I love my own company. In fact, I have so many things that interest and entertain me that sometimes I don’t have enough time to do all the things I enjoy when I’m alone. I can read, write, think, journal, watch something, listen to something, create something, learn something, or simply sit quietly and be perfectly content.

‎I don’t get bored easily. I actually need solitude.

‎Sometimes, after being around people for a while, I feel an almost physical need to withdraw. Its not because I am angry or someone necessarily did anything wrong… and it’s definitely not because I suddenly dislike everybody. I just need to return to myself.

‎I can be extremely warm with people, but warmth should never be mistaken for availability. If I become friendly with you, please don’t immediately assume that we’ve entered a daily-access friendship arrangement.

‎We haven’t. I can love you and still not call you every day. I can enjoy talking to you and still ignore my phone for hours.

‎I can care deeply about you and still need you to leave me alone.

‎And I need people to understand that those things can exist simultaneously.

‎I don’t like forced closeness. I don’t like people who demand access to me simply because I’ve been kind to them. I don’t like relationships where friendliness suddenly becomes an obligation.

‎I also don’t like disrespect. That one is particularly important. I can overlook many things. I can be patient. I can give people room to be human. I don’t expect perfection from anyone. But disrespect? No.

‎Once I feel deliberately disrespected, something changes.

‎I don’t necessarily need to shout. I don’t need to fight. I don’t need to make a dramatic announcement. Sometimes I simply withdraw.And when I withdraw, please understand that I am not necessarily waiting for you to chase me.Sometimes I’ve simply made a decision.

‎I value sincerity. I value loyalty. I value people who can communicate without manipulation, who can disagree without becoming disrespectful, and who understand that boundaries are not rejection.

‎I don’t like unnecessary drama. I don’t like being pressured. I don’t like being emotionally blackmailed. I don’t like people who mistake kindness for weakness.

‎And I don’t like people who assume that because I am capable of giving a lot, I should always be willing to give a lot.

‎I am generous with my time, my ideas, my attention and my affection, but I choose where those things go.

‎ I am also independent.

‎I don’t need constant reassurance that people like me. I don’t need to be included in everything. I don’t need to be in every conversation, every outing, every gathering or every person’s business.

‎Sometimes I actually prefer being left out.

‎Oh, and I am observant, too. I notice changes in people’s behaviour. I notice the tone. I notice inconsistencies. I notice when energy shifts. I may not react immediately, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t notice.

‎ I’m a mix of many things that some may call weird…

‎I am capable of being deeply affectionate without being clingy. I can love people fiercely and still enjoy being alone. I can be social and still be private.I can be friendly and still have boundaries…And my boundaries are not an invitation for negotiation.

This is who I am

‎

The Tail End by Tim Urban

On a lazy Thursday morning with a mission to find something light to read, I stumbled upon The tail End by Tim Urban. Link below.

The Tail End

It really got what I was looking for. It’s a fun read and trust me, he keeps you engaged and chuckling through with his charts and examples.

I won’t spoil it for you, I think you should experience it for yourself.

What I didn’t expect though was how pensive I remained when I read the three takeaways he closed with.

Thank you Tim Urban for the food for thought.

Soundtrack

Every year, around my birthday, I tend to notice a recurring song on my speakers. Every year, a new song(s).

I actually don’t set out to choose it or them, they just quietly become the song. It’s one repeat in the kitchen, in the car, when I pray, at work in the office and sometimes in the quiet of my mind when I wake or I am about to fall asleep.

Looking back, I think I can almost trace my life by these songs.

When I turned 40, my song was The Story I’ll Tell by Naomi Raine. It was a season where I found myself trusting God with chapters I couldn’t yet understand. I didn’t have all the answers, but I believed one day I’d look back and see His fingerprints all over my life. I didn’t have these words back then. They just flow now as I look back and realise that’s what that song was helping me do.

At 41, it was Dependable God by Victor Thompson. That year reminded me that God’s faithfulness isn’t measured by how easy life feels. He’s dependable because that’s His nature. He doesn’t change.

At 42, Joy Is Coming by Todd Galberth became my anthem. I mean… Anthem. It didn’t cancel the difficult days but it simply reminded me that they don’t have the final word. Joy was on its way, even when I couldn’t yet see it.

Then came 43, and if I had to describe that year in one name, it would be Brandon Lake. His songs filled my days with worship. They drew my attention away from what was happening around me and back to the One who never changes. When my Spotify wrapped at the end of the year, I wasn’t surprised to find him up there as my artist of the year. He beat Morgan Wallen by a long long slide. My favourite song was Heartfelt Hallelujah. I even got the merch.

Now, as I prepare to turn 44, two songs won’t leave me alone: What a God by Seu Worship and Made for More by Bethel Music.

One fills me with awe while other fills me with expectation.

One reminds me of who God is and the other reminds me of who He created me to become.

Maybe that’s what this new year is about. Not striving for more, but responding to the God who has always been more than enough.

When I look back, I don’t remember these years by birthdays or calendars. I remember them by songs.

#23august1982

ASAP… Really?

One thing I’ve noticed is that people often confuse ASAP with immediately, but they’re not the same thing.

When you send me a message or you tell me something and add; “I need it ASAP”, I do a small inner laugh… What if that’s next year?

Let’s see… so, immediately means, drop what you’re doing and do this now.

ASAP means, do it at the earliest practical opportunity. It still carries urgency, but it also recognizes that you may be in the middle of something important. What if important things keep coming up?

The difference matters because words set expectations. If you say immediately, you’re asking for instant action. If you say ASAP, you’re asking for the earliest possible action without assuming the person has nothing else on their plate.

We communicate better when we choose words that mean exactly what we intend. ASAP isn’t right now people, stop giving me that option. 😁