I’m about to begin Wuthering Heights. I actually ventured into it weeks ago. Somewhere around chapter four, I realized I was reading it wrong.
It had been a very hectic period for me at work, plus the weather had been unbearable… Temperatures over 40° in the day, and just a little under that at night. So I went with In Her Own League and then mostly television at that time.
Now I am ready for Wuthering Heights.
Not just read it… but enter it.
I’ve heard enough and also tried before, so I know this isn’t the kind of story you rush through. It’s not a quick, feel-good romance you skim between moments… It asks for something slower. Something more present.
I’m learning to approach it differently.
Not with urgency… but with stillness.
Like sitting alone, in a corner, on a beautiful day. Maybe with some coffee, maybe just water. Not chasing the story…. but watching it unfold.
Watching people unravel…
There’s something almost comforting about that idea. To read not for speed, but for depth. I want to let the atmosphere settle in. I want to observe, rather than judge too quickly…
So this is me, at the threshold.
About to step into a world that doesn’t promise ease… but promises to be felt, really felt. And that’s why I will take my time… No rush.
I wonder what Gabe Kapler has to say about the recent explosion of his real videos and some AI generated ones too, all over tiktok.
Last June, I read all five of the Windy City Series by Liz Tomforde. It was the perfect balm for a numb month. The series is in Five parts. Each part (Book) focusing on one of the five couples in the series; Mile High, The Right Move, Caught Up, Play Along and Rewind It Back.
Shortly after I had finished reading them, I found out there was about to be a spin off, which was due early 2026. I waited patiently and the day finally came. The sixth book, titled ‘In Her Own League’.
I’m not one to rush a book, I usually take me time… I often pause deliberately just to savour and enjoy a book… And sometimes make notes too. So I wonder why I rushed this one in one day.
To be totally honest, I couldn’t just put the book down. It was what I expected and more. I think it just became my favourite of all in the series.
I bumped Caught up to second place and took In Her Own League straight to number one.
I read almost any genre of books, but Whenever I dive into romance, I have the specific tropes I prefer. Slow burn, enemies to lovers…with all the tension and banter, close proximity, second chance and the likes. Liz Tomforde just nailed almost all my preferences in this last one.
That’s where Gabe Kapler comes in. I believe the main male character in this final book was written with Kapler in mind. Every description just screams Gabe Kapler. So in the booktok world, the Character Emmet ‘Monty’ Montgomery is Gabe Kapler.
There must be thousands of videos of Kapler being used as Emmet. Makes me wonder, does he like it? Is he flattered about this? Is he upset about this? Has he read the book? I wish I knew.
The thing is, when we disappear into romance fiction, we imagine that character and leave him in our heads, but to have to not imagine, but to know that it’s him, that clean, rugged face, the beard (very intentional, very effective), the fitness… man looks like he lives in a gym, and that focused, slightly broody expression, and then that tattoo on the back of his hand… To know he actually exists…
…don’t do that again Liz Tomforde, I prefer them in my imagination.
Spoiler alert. If you have not read Colleen Hoover's Verity and you plan to, I suggest you skip this particular blog post. It's filled with spoilers.
Why I Believe Verity’s Confession, Not Her Letter.
Some books entertain you. Some books disturb you…. And then there’s Verity by Colleen Hoover, the kind of book that crawls under your skin and refuses to leave.
I finished it, closed it, and sat still for a long time. And the more I thought about it, the clearer my position became: I am Team Manuscript. Not hesitantly. Not conditionally. Fully.
The turning point for me was the letter. On the surface, it offers an alternative explanation; a softer, more sympathetic version of Verity. It asks us to reconsider everything we’ve read. It wants to reframe her as misunderstood, wronged, maybe even framed by circumstance… But here’s the thing: it feels calculated.
I believe Verity wrote that letter because she knew Lowen knew. There’s a quiet awareness in that house. A shift in energy. Lowen had read the manuscript. She had seen the darkness. And Verity, silent and observant, sensed that something had changed.
That letter doesn’t feel like truth surfacing. It feels like damage control. It appears at exactly the right moment. It is conveniently tucked away. It offers just enough doubt to destabilize everything… plus, it was too neat and too reactive. If you are truly innocent, why wait until the walls are closing in to explain yourself?
Now here’s another thing, I Don’t Believe Jeremy Ever Found the Manuscript. This is where my conviction deepens. Jeremy is emotional. Protective. Impulsive. If he had read that manuscript before Lowen did, there is no version of events where life would have continued as normal, never. No quiet coexisting. No tense dinners. No careful routine. There would have been an explosion. Which tells me he never found it… it was hidden intentionally. Verity never meant for him to see it… And that makes the manuscript feel even more honest, because it wasn’t written for performance. It wasn’t meant to defend her. It wasn’t curated for sympathy. It was raw.
This next part is deeply personal. As a mum, I struggled with the argument that “no mother would ever write such horrible things about her child.” And I agree, no healthy mother would… But that’s exactly why I believe it. The manuscript doesn’t read like fiction. It doesn’t feel exaggerated for creative effect. It reads like a confession… Like something ugly and forbidden spilling onto the page because it cannot be spoken aloud. The vividness of it disturbed me. Not because it felt fake, but because it felt psychologically possible. Dark. Shameful. Real.
A letter trying to redeem oneself is easier to write than a confession admitting jealousy of your own child.
Then, let’s talk about the Knife. Why did it cut Crew? The knife doesn’t feel like a coincidence. It feels like an escalation in a moment of frustration.
What makes Verity brilliant is that Colleen Hoover never gives us certainty. She gives us discomfort. She makes us question our instincts. She makes us examine how easily sympathy can be manufactured and how fragile truth can feel when rewritten.
Well, after I ponder on the twists, the suspense, the shock value, I return to this: The manuscript feels like someone slipping and revealing who they truly are while the letter feels like someone scrambling to protect what’s left… And for me, that difference matters.
So Yes, I’m Team Manuscript
I believe the manuscript.. And that’s what makes Verity unforgettable. Because you don’t just finish the book. You carry the debate with you.
Living in Superposition: My Career at 45 and Schrödinger’s Cat.
Some years ago, I made a private plan with myself. In my post Going in I only hinted.
Nothing dramatic. No resignation letter drafted in anger… Just a quiet marker in time: “By the time I turn 45, I should not still be in my current place of work.”… And a few other stuff.
Not because I despise where I work. Not because the years there haven’t counted… Oh they have. Deeply. I’ve grown, I’ve learned discipline, responsibility, endurance. I’ve worked with numbers, systems, people, pressure. I’ve shown up.
But for me, 45 represents something else… A point where staying should be a choice, not momentum. Where growth should feel expansive, not repetitive. Where I want to look at my life and say, yes… I listened when it was time to move.
And yet, if I’m honest, there is a real probability that I might still be there at 45. Hmmmm.
Life is not a straight line. Plans meet reality. Responsibilities shift. Opportunities don’t always arrive as scheduled.
That tension… the one between intention and uncertainty is what made me think of Schrödinger’s cat.
A quick refresher; In quantum physics, Schrödinger’s cat is a thought experiment where a cat sealed in a box is considered both alive and dead at the same time, until the box is opened and the state is observed. Yes, I know… Absurd on the surface…. But profound underneath. Until observation happens, multiple realities coexist.
Right now, my future at 45 exists in a kind of career superposition… Until I actually get there (until the “box” is opened) I am simultaneously:
…still at my current place of work
…no longer at my current place of work Both futures are real. Both are possible. Neither has collapsed into certainty.
Trust me, saying “there’s a probability I might still be there” isn’t a lack of ambition… Also, It’s not fear talking. It’s honesty. I’ve lived long enough to know that growth doesn’t always look loud. Sometimes it looks patient. Sometimes it looks like preparing quietly while still being present… where you are.
What is the “box” for me? The box isn’t just age or time. The box is: …responsibilities I carry …decisions I haven’t yet been forced to make …doors I don’t yet know exist …versions of myself that are still unfolding …It’s experience. It’s context. It’s becoming.
As long as the box stays closed, my future remains fluid.
Every small thing I do now… …learning beyond what my job demands …stretching myself academically and mentally …exploring ideas outside my current role …imagining life beyond one identity …trusting that I am allowed to evolve
All these are like quietly tipping the odds.
I don’t have to force certainty prematurely. I don’t have to announce a departure before it’s time. I just have to keep moving in alignment with who I am becoming.
What this teaches meis this… I don’t need to have everything figured out to be faithful to my future. …I can appreciate the years that shaped me without chaining myself to them. …I can hold gratitude and desire for more in the same hands. …I can respect uncertainty without letting it paralyze me.
Until I’m 45, I exist in superposition.
And when the time comes, whether through choice, opportunity, or courage, the box will open.
Not because I rushed… Not because I panicked… But because I paid attention. Superposition is a hyper state… … Not so much confusion but more of wisdom.
I was going to finish up the third season of The Diplomat and say nothing about it… But here I am. Saying something.
A little over a week ago, I was looking for something I could watch, I went through my list on Netflix and realized I had marked The Diplomat sometime ago, and so I started.
The Diplomat is a political drama about an experienced diplomat navigating an unexpected ambassadorial role during a global crisis. She does all this while balancing her complicated marriage. It’s tense and intelligent. It’s also a very fast-paced drama, everything happens quickly, there’s no unnecessary feet dragging. One thing that drew me in is how it reveals how power, politics, and personal lives collide behind closed doors.
In the entire three seasons I watched, Kate (US Ambassador) paints Hal (Her husband, also a former US Ambassador) as the evil person. The one who always does the wrong thing. But it turns out, Kate isn’t so innocent herself.
Hal and Kate are such a rich pair. This is one of those relationships that keeps working on you after the episode ends. It’s been three days and they are still stuck in my head.
Kate finds Hal to be frustrating, I don’t disagree. But I find him to be very fascinating as well. Hal is brilliant. He’s politically sharp, experienced, and often right. That’s part of the problem. Kate’s problem.
Hal is also addicted to relevance, he’s sometimes uncomfortable not being in charge and he’s often convinced he knows what’s best. I wouldn’t blame him completely… He has loads of experience. But here’s what I think matters; He genuinely loves Kate… A bit too much if you ask me.
Here’s why I feel Kate isn’t fair. 1. She underestimates his identity loss. Hal didn’t just lose a job; he lost a sense of self. Kate understands this intellectually, but she doesn’t always hold space for it emotionally. 2. She uses distance as control. When overwhelmed, Kate shuts down instead of engaging. To Hal, that can feel like punishment rather than boundaries. I personally dislike this method. 3. She assumes he’ll adapt quietly. Kate expects Hal to accept a secondary role with dignity, but doesn’t fully acknowledge how hard that is for someone like him.
At the end of the entire show I realized, Kate isn’t trying to hurt Hal. She’s just being Kate. Hal isn’t trying to sabotage Kate. He’s just being Hal. They’re both struggling with a power shift they never renegotiated out loud. Kate wants partnership without interference. Hal wants relevance without becoming invisible.
So why does Kate try to paint a different picture?
Kate and Hal Wyler in The Diplomat, Portrayed by Keri Russell and Rufus Sewell.
When this year began, somewhere around the 5th of January, I got tired of waiting for People We Meet on Vacation and so I started watching The Diplomat… Just a little something to hold me till the 9th of January. I enjoyed The Diplomat so much that I decided to finish it up even when the long awaited movie dropped.
Today I finally saw the movie.
People We Meet on Vacation is an adaptation of Emily Henry’s novel with the same title.
I had jumped on the novel the moment I learned that the adaptation was in production. It was in fact my second Emily Henry read, just after Book Lovers. I always love to do that; read a book and then see what film makers will make of it.
What did I think of this one?
It was nicely done. I had been worried about how well they could fit the back and forth of ten years as written in the book. They managed just fine… Not leaving too much from the book out of the film.
It’s a story about two longtime friends who take yearly trips together, they slowly realize that the person who feels most like home may also be the one they’re afraid to choose.
I have left details of the story out so as not to create any spoilers for anyone.
It’s a Sunday evening, our small family of three is watching the super cup final between Barcelona and Real Madrid. I notice a foul and I call it.
“That’s a hand ball.” I say.
“Are you sure?” SonTer asks.
“Common son, you saw it, stop being partial.”
He grins and then he says; “Just like the referee at my birthday soccer match.”
I remember that day very well. It was a year and a half ago. SonTer’s Eleventh birthday. He had chosen to celebrate with a friendly match with his close friends and classmates. The man who had been selected to officiate the match had been a real piece of work.
He had been hell bent on giving the side SonTer was playing on a win. He had at one point whispered into SonTer’s ear; “If someone touches you, even just a little bit, fall to the ground so that I can give you a penalty kick.”
What stayed with me wasn’t the unfair calls or even the undeserved win… it was the whisper. The quiet permission to fall. The idea that pretending could replace effort and advantage could replace integrity.
I realised how early these moments shape us. Children may forget scores, but they remember what authority teaches them, whether fairness matters or truth is optional. An easy win feels good for a moment, but it teaches nothing about character.
I am glad because SonTer never did fake a fall, and as he remembered it today, he expressed his surprise at how open the referee had been about cheating.
That moment reminded me that children don’t just learn from what we allow, they learn from what we refuse to model. Integrity is often taught quietly, in small decisions that don’t earn applause or advantage.
The lesson is simple: how we win matters more than the fact that we win. The take-home: choose honesty, even when shortcuts are offered, because character is built long before it is tested. Those early choices stay with us, even after the game is over.
It feels good to make this final post in this series.
When I posted Life in a Year: January 2025 and Derrick commented “This is fun and will be a good series”, I jumped on it. I edited the title to suit the purpose and twelve months later, we have a finale.
December was good.
It began with my second semester examinations for MBA. It went very well.
SonTer came back home for the holidays. We have been catching up and having a lot of fun.
On the last Sunday of the month, I and the spring forth ladies went to church for our yearly thanksgiving and then we went ahead to have a fun brunch afterwards.
Lots of people were home for the holidays so I was able to meet up with a few friends and I also hosted a few of my bake shop alumni… I had a picnic prepared for them and we had so much fun.
One of the highlights was being a godmother for the second time. Amaka’s baby Jasmine went to church and I proudly took her to the altar.
To wrap up the year, we have ditched our home for a two day staycation to unwind and enter the new year.
2025 was good. One word on my heart and my lips; grateful. That’s why the song I’m taking into the new year is Elevation Worship’s – God I’m just grateful.
After all the hustle and bustle, the nights to mornings, mornings to evenings, Mondays to Sundays, and the Januarys to Decembers, it all comes down to this one question.
What do I/You want out of life?
Some people want peace. Some want love… or to be loved without effort. Some want security, a steady income, a life that feels safe. Others want freedom, adventure, money, fame, and everything that sparkles. Some want healing. Some want to be understood. Some want success, recognition, or to finally feel proud of themselves. Some just want rest. Some want meaning. Some want joy in small, ordinary days.
Some want a combination of most of these things… …And some people don’t quite know what they want… only what they are tired of.
I am also one of those who want a combination of things… peace, rest, and joy in small ordinary days.
That’s why I completely understand Emma Corrigan’s response to Jack’s question; “Happiness, I suppose. Doing what I want to be doing. Feeling I’ve made my mark on the world.”
If you struggle with a response to this, I would like to recommend Rick Warren’s The Purpose Driven life. The book begins with the question; What on earth am I here for?. I found my answers with the help of that book.
“I think this may be one of the best days of my life.” That was November 6th. I had called Terver, my husband, at about 2:15pm, to inform him that I had returned from my trip and I was headed home. He asked how the trip went, and that was my response. He didn’t get my reason, I wonder if anyone else will.
The two most therapeutic things for me are driving and music. Put them together, and I am in another realm. Almost all of the time, when I get excited about driving alone and listening to music, I usually have someone or people with me. It’s fine when these people are also lovers of music. It’s so not fine when they are talkers and won’t let even one song flow.
On that beautiful day, the 6th of November, I left Abuja a little after 9 am… alone. I was in no hurry. I spent five hours with myself. I made two pit stops. One stop to refuel and stock up on some yogurt Terver loves, and then the next stop to pick some wild flowers.
By the time the trip ended, I felt refreshed and light… and happy.
So, even if November didn’t happen to be awesome, that day would have been just enough good for the whole month. But November was great.
On the 1st, we went to visit SonTer… our one and only visit allowed per term. He was fine.
The next day, I received some books I had ordered. I will start reading them in January… that’s the plan.
I read The Great Gatsby, and I loved it.
I attended two weddings. Both were really beautiful.
I started a learning challenge. Every day, on my whatsapp story, I put up two words and try to explain the difference between them. I got the idea when I stumbled upon a platform called comparelingo. On the platform, they try to teach basic English via comparison of two words. I plan to run the challenge until the 31st of December. I am glad to say that it has been fun and I have people who are interested.
