Unboxed

By Ojone Faith Ocholi

The Ocholi’s woke up the morning of March 7th, 2016 to the sudden realization that they were now orphans and missing a Brother. This is a glimpse into what life was like for Ojone, the first Daughter of the Family and some of the many Lessons her Years and Experiences so far have taught her.

Unboxed is a riveting, unfiltered and lowkey savage pep talk to her younger self and young People Everywhere. It is a bold and honest look at what life was like as a sheltered and insecure young woman before the life changing incident of losing her Parents and Brother in a Car accident in March of 2016. She bravely shares real Stories, honest opinions and some fresh ideas inspired by twenty seven Years of living life as her famous Father’s Daughter.

Her father James Ocholi was at the time of his death, a serving Minister of his Country, Nigeria. While the renowned Lawyer would probably be best remembered for his brilliance and integrity, to her he was mostly dad. In this book she shares an inside look at what that Chapter of her life was like along with opinions on several relevant spiritual, economic and sociopolitical issues in our world today. she completes the project by sharing many photos from the previous life of her family. Ojone lives in Abuja Nigeria with her remaining three Siblings.

You can learn more about her and #Unboxed Project at www.unboxedbook.website

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ojone Faith Ocholi
• Release date: Aug 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463623060

Ojone Faith Ocholi

I am Ojoné with Peace and Faith, living in Honey as Ocholi.

Book preview

This is to the God of the Bible and to

Everyone who needs to Read these Words.

Introduction

Sculptures have always been one of the most impressive Art forms to me, Their three dimensional nature is just so incredible. Every time I see one, I’m amazed that It came out of somebody’s mind. I have the same reaction to beautiful Architecture, I love that aw inspiring feeling. My favorite part of traveling is seeing the different ideas of City design and structure. It’s like cultural Story Telling through building materials. Lol. All the intricate details, the attention, time and patience it must take to achieve them. The ability to run your hands over and feel them and how life like they can look is mesmerizing. I love that in many European cities, you get to see these beautifully crafted features right on the streets. I've always admired the dedication it must take to Imagine and Complete these things.

Making Molds is a part of the process for creating any of such Structures. The thought of God molding Adam’s body from the dust makes me think of a Potter and a Workshop, Transforming what is in a mind into a prototype is an incredible ability to posses One day I joked that in the secret Lab Lash Studio where God worked. He made Beyonce’s Mold and thought "yup just one of this please, two would simply be too much" and after she was born, he broke it to pieces just to make sure she was never made again lol but in reality, aren’t we are all broken molds? Have you found another you yet?

He made just you and there will never be another. It's more than a coincidence that you are you, think of all the details it would take to accidentally create your entire being. You are created to be at this exact time in history, living right where you should be, doing what you where created to do with a set of internationally appointed people, for a purpose and is not yours. It’s not designed to be, It’s His. Here’s what most of us do, we make up purposes for ourselves. How’s that working out? lol If you make up one for yourself, guess what, he won’t be in it and it would be Your responsibility to run and maintain it. We are simply not created to function under such conditions.

Do you know why God even created Adam in the first place? Relationship. Even if you succeed at giving yourself an assignment and seem to succeeding, in the end, you would have failed because the Maker determines purpose, not to mention the emptiness you will have to endure and pretend is not there because you’re trying to convince Everyone including yourself of how fulfilled you are.

This book is a charge to have your Creator tell you what you are here for and hopefully inspire us all to get to doing them. A blessed life is one grounded in the fulfillment of its purpose. Peace and Success are results of that Foundation. It took my whole life and an incident of epic proportions but I am so glad I now know mine and this is true for Everyone.

I hear there’s now the possibility of identification from your ear shape. How many more unique codes do we have to discover before we realize how special each one of us is? Think about it, In a sea of seven billion, you are the only you he’s made, the only one the world has and will ever get. You have one chance and nobody ever knows how much time is preset. All I’m saying is own it and Make it count.

Preface

God’s got a plan but you’ve got a part. We already know he's faithful, now its up to us. This is where I basically give you a heads up on exactly what you’re in for. You can’t tell just yet but you’ll soon figure out you that have NOT bought a normal book. Take it from me, I wrote the thing. While not compulsory, I do feel a moral obligation to warn you of what is to come within these pages. This is at least 20 years worth of personal therapy, painful printed out in black and white, for your reading and learning pleasure. It’s serious stuff but necessary.

Full disclosure, I was raised by two avid readers and at least one perpetual student but i no longer share that love for reading books lol, yup, the Writer who doesn’t enjoy Reading. I can explain though, I've often "joked" that i’ld rather read a hundred Articles than one Book, because 300 pages is too damn long to tell me anything lol, except you’re telling a Story and even then I’ll skip a few. So if you’re anything like me, feel free to skip parts (including this one) and use the attention you have left on the very extensive Book Map to figure out exactly what you’re interested in reading. However, (and this is a huge but) I indulge you to read this through.

Experience is a late teacher. Writing this was done in love, to share the bedrocks of the solid life my Parents built and the errors I’ve made in spite of being born into that stable, godly home. I think young people every would learn something from these Stories. There’s a real no bullshitting, low key savage but laced in love approach, that’s been taken in writing things that I thought you’d enjoy. lol It’s the only language I’m now interested in communicating in. Too many lies that sooth the heart. The Truth is sharp and hurts like shit but that’s what makes it effective. Results, that’s what we’re after here.

Pictures! I love visuals. Aren’t we all visual junkies these days though? Seriously, how much easier would school have been if it had been more visual? Not to mention more fun. The times were in are very exciting. I for one am like a kid at Disney world just elated to be alive in this over informed new world because I love research and finding things out. I always have. The real challenge now is sifting through all the bullshit to get to real things.

The last time someone wrote a Book on my Father and Family, I asked for the manuscript in advance to at least get a heads up on what was going to be published and they basically refused. If you're interested in portraying the truth, it’s only fair to first ask the family’s consent to write and secondly, you wouldn’t have a problem with your account of events being fact checked. However, I have now found that sometimes it's best to just smile and be quiet when People do funny things. Till this day, I've never read that Book, I showed up and sat Front Row at the Launch, smiled and took pictures.lol

I don’t know whose thoughts and opinions were contained in it or where the money went. (Whatever that was, I hope you're happy now). So, this is necessary, to properly represent people who can no longer speak for themselves, as told by someone who knew them.

I apologize in advance for the use of "curse" words which aren’t really curses. Forgive me. sometimes it’s just fuking worth it, don’t you think? And while I’m apologizing, I’ll just apologize for the one million lols too. The excessive use is purely intentional.

This book is designed to be an Experience. You’ll understand when you’re done.

— Enjoy.

A Little Town Fairytale.

My Parents got married in April of 1988 and together they built a simple, joyful, little life in a tiny town called Ankpa in Kogi State, Nigeria.

This happens to be my Mother’s hometown, a quaint little town where they chose to start their lives together. They had four of us kids there and their last, Eleojo in Lagos. It’s incredible that this first chapter of their lives happened while living no more than a 15 minute drive away from my grandfather’s house. Talk about special lol. That was James & Blessing though, always different. Anyone who ever met my Mom would tell you there is nobody like her periodt. The Woman stood out without trying lol, everything she did was different. She once made me practice and sing a welcome number telling my birth story to our entire guest at my 7th birthday Party. We spent weeks preparing for the bash, with me as Creative Director (of course) lol. I made all the plans, decided the menu, picked out the invitation cards from her fancy stash, shortlisted the guests, hand wrote every personalized message in them colorful glitter Pens. lol.

I Planned (Mom helped) with all the Fashion and Decor (including hers and my two baby brother’s) who where unhappy to say the least, that I was given the license to boss everyone around just because I was having a Party. In their little minds, why would anyone (daddy) gave me a Party with a flexible budget? My mum didn’t get a chance to throw parties often so this was major, for us both.

Ahh those where the days. lol being the Only girl, daddy’s default Princess, getting everything she wanted, telling off (and on) Everyone, only buying the exact clothes I wanted and terrible at giving or sharing. You know, all of the typical markings of an only child without actually being one., lol. To me, it was all the same. That was my life around this time. I had never been more excited to be older. "On a cold rainy Thursday in July"…. I think my Speech began, must have rehearsed that thing a hundred times in the month leading to the party. I cant remember the rest but it was perfect. Still hands down one of the best parties I'v ever had.

Growing up in Ankpa, my life really was a fairytale, (at least it felt like one). That small town was all I knew and to me it was the world. Of course I had no concept of money, so that wasn’t a factor in my perception. I had a loving family, beautiful white house on a hill and was crushing it at school.lol. I Aced every test and exam, never placed any position less than 3rd on any subject. Except for ironically Fine Arts, which my Mother was convinced was a set up either by the teacher or the principal lol. In her words, my drawings were just as terrible as the next kid’s, anyway you get the point. In my little mind that town was paradise, our home was the Castle and I couldn’t think of anything that was missing.

We lived a pretty isolated life, and had a full on Routine which we rarely ever deviated from. My father was a young successful Lawyer who travelled a lot but he was amazing and somehow very present. He was in the church leadership and prioritized that throughout our lives. Assemblies of God was our first family church. My Mother, also in Her thirties ran several small successful businesses she loved but had to closedown once she had three of us Aaron, Joshua & me. By this time, they had both raised enough money to build their dream home. A unique White House with a large compound. She was involved in every stage of the building design, and while he was traveling or in Courts around the country she supervised the project and had things made exactly as she dreamed it. Soon after, they both agreed that one of them needed to be more hands on with us children, her running businesses and him building his law chambers demanded a lot of time, so she made the sacrifice and instead took a job as an Administrator at the local College of Education. It was steady work and very convenient hours plus the added advantage of working with young people which she loved and was alway passionate about, so things were great. Not to mention that she got months off when school was out lol knowing her, that was a dream come true right there.

Working on and off meant she was VERY present and attentive to everything, always available for everything from hugs to harsh pep talks, to a quick ass-whoop if you needed one. We were good kids though so that didn’t happen too often and when it did, she outsourced that shit to James super fast. lol. Their favorite punishment was sending us to our room, something I tried to avoid especially around night time, lol I got real obedient and quiet once the sun started to disappear but sometimes she made me, just (for trivial reasons) to help me get over the fear of the dark. That’s how brilliantly proactive she was, it’s something I’m glad she made me face and conquer early in life. She would find what scared you and make you face it. lol. So you got over it.

I remember her being very fun and playful and very social. She was Everybody’s favorite Woman in Church, the Salon, dry cleaners, car wash, you name it. She was very strict with our academics. We read multiple Story Books each week, she has especially hard on me, her only girl for many years. It wasn’t all fun but it paid off. Our home library was always full and stocked with new books. We rarely watched television and when we did it was stuff they had carefully curated. She had a handful of friends, had a little women’s singing group for the Full Gospel Fellowship, Ankpa Chapter, a Global Organization they were both a part of for many years even until their deaths.

Ever the creative, She taught herself to play the Guitar and learned how to sew before she had Me & Aaron So she kept pretty busy. Church was also considered socializing at our house. We aren’t big on parties, throwing or attending them so that was the extent of our weekly interactions, except for the occasional house visits. It was just me Aaron and Joshua for a while. The boys played sports while I was on the school debate team, I preached Sunday school in the children’s church, and sometimes was often class captain. Parents of the Star Child lol. They couldn’t be prouder.

Life was simple and sweet, she had her western influenced ideas about life and success that was obvious in how she ran her home. From the arrangement of our school lunch boxes to the strict barn on speaking igala in her house, to the way she dressed herself and us, everything screamed different. Her usual unapologetic uniqueness and creativity was more than a lifestyle that permeated everything she did, it was her mindset. She wasn’t trying to fit in and this was quickly apparent to everyone everywhere and in every role she ever played throughout her life a common thread.

It was as if the concept of money didn’t matter to her so she didn’t pressure him because of it. If she wanted something, she got it. Recognizing earlier in her life that a God was her Source. She loved the things she had and knew she would have nicer once soon enough. There was always laughter and Music at home I knew I could be open, let my guard down and just play and talk to her. Maybe that’s the reason it took me a while to understand money. They didn’t really give us access to it either. Looking back now it seems intentional on their part, whatever we needed we knew we’d receive by asking.

There was almost no conversation about money until I was maybe six years old when I "earned" some for the first time. How? My mother came up with an earning system to encourage extra good behavior from us kids, genius! right? So we got rewarded for things like saying our please and think you, closing doors, picking up our toys, making your beds in the morning (I never did this one), lol or my favorite, helping her water her flower garden in the evenings. You earned you a good 5 to 20 Naira everyday depending on the day and time of day you were dealing with mum. (Her mood swings were legendary) lol. These tasks were technically not considered chores. See, In our household, technicalities where important, lol prolly because our father’s litigation and negotiation skills were rubbing off on all of us, who knows. Then there was also the time, during Christmas holiday in the village I think it was, just to get rid of us noisy kids one afternoon while the parents were out visiting, my grandmother (paternal) shared her Maggi Seasoning Cubes into tiny plates for us and sent us to the village market to sell lol I was so proud that I finished my merchandise, I couldn’t wait to tell my dad who was furious she sent us to do that lol, it was a little scary but a fun adventure, other than that though as a child, I had no other recollections of interactions with the money thing.

This doesn’t mean I wasn't exposed to money at all, that would be super weird lol, of course I knew what it was and that you worked to get it but I never felt any pressure on them directly related to finances. Looking back now its not that we were wealthy, not even close, daddy worked is butt off which he loved and mummy worked but it wasn’t our family’s focus.

Overall, I think they built an atmosphere that worked for them, that highlighted the lighter things and wasn’t centered on money pressures. It helped that they had built their dream home in their 30’s so the insane rent pressure was off them too. So basically when it came to money, If we had it, great. If we didn’t, we spoke of all the things we wanted as definite eventualities while being content with the preset. This was a way of thinking I have come to be extremely thankful to have been raised in.

I think this contentment stemmed from their deep gratitude for the life we led and what they were able to provide for us which was by far better than what they were born into. My paternal grandfather died in his thirties, leaving behind his Widow and 7 children, all under the age of 20. She didn’t work. My father had just finished high school and had to put College on hold to get a job to "support the family. His only older sibling had just been married to a successful local politician" and moved to her new home within the same town in Dekina.

I've heard the story a hundred times or more but even as a child, I couldn’t help but wonder what his Mother was doing to help out and why at least his three immediate younger ones who I my opinion, where old enough didn't get jobs or something to do to "help out"? Why did everything have to be one his shoulders?

We were told stories of the epic levels of poverty they lived through, of sharing clothes, passing down shoes and with little to eat while surviving on his teacher’s assistant salary.

Thankfully, he found his faith in this phase of life and these years ended up being a moulding period for a level of sacrificial living that would come to characterize his entire lifetime. He took multiple jobs tutoring kids and other menial jobs to put food on the family table. What an unfair level of responsibility to place on a teenager. As you’d imagine, He had to "father up really quick. No doubt his faith kept him strong and hopeful in these extreme pressure filled years. He humorously" told us often how his entire inheritance from his kind hearted banker father was a bicycle. (call me weird but I never quite saw the humor in that particular sentence). But he always made references to how the goodwill of this father was his true inheritance, even though I didn’t get it then, I would come to.

Don’t worry Lucy Fatima Yusuf aka Blessing Ocholi wasn’t an heiress herself. Her father was a "Malam or Alhaji" always wondered what that meant exactly like i’ld think to myself so what was his job or trade exactly? I had no idea. She was born when a three time divorcée hooked up with a Malam. I Only knew him as baba ogane. (Father on the lower parts of town) (the literal igala translation) I say hooked up because there was never actually a wedding. My grandma never lived with him or changed her name, there was no family.

Mama was another special character. All I knew of her was she was incredibly stunning, (like super model stunning), 6ft something tall, thick long beautiful hair, glossy dark skin, crazy long legs and model type boobs. lol. This beauty earned her a nickname in her village "mami water" which is often used to describe women with extreme beauty throughout the country actually. A Slang for"mermaid" (in pop culture, mermaids have a reputation of basically being mythical goddesses of the Sea). Reference Disney’s Ariel and her entire underwater village filled with stunning people. lol.

Promiscuity is typically seen as a classic ‘stunning woman problem’ fighting? lol. Rumor had it she had a problem. She kept having extremely good-looking kids who grew up to be wildly successful but all died in their prime. All the years I knew my mother, she only ever referenced two of her siblings ever and not even by name. One was a Navy Man who died shortly after visiting her and her mother at home, the other was the last born, only 4 years old who died while she, only a teenager at the time was carrying him on her back.

All their deaths were under really mysterious circumstances and nobody could really explain. That last child’s death was the final straw, my grandmother went into a deep state of grief and anger that would last until her death in 2002. This cost her any real relationship with my Mother. She decided she wouldn’t love and hold her breath for my Mother to be taken as well, besides, of all the good kids she had had died, why would this one survive? This was her thinking. I think it was just a defense mechanism to shield herself for hurting again. She couldn’t in any real sense bring herself to be a mother to Lucy anymore.

A series of violent outbursts and incidents later, relatives decided it was better and safer for my mother to be raised in the homes of multiple aunties, and uncles. One thing though, Grandma was widely successful,. An incredible Entrepreneur. In addition to her beauty, she had an avid business sense and travelled across the Country and out of the country sourcing things for her many ventures. Why didn’t my mum live with her father? One word polygamy.

Anyone from a huge polygamous home understands this. If your own mother doesn’t live in the compound, you are in extra trouble sometimes life or death level of problems. Her mother wasn’t about to let that happen, also she swore my Mother must get an education, something my Grandfather didn’t believe in, educating female kids so This meant she’d have to bear the cost herself, alone.

Grandma felt like an education was her only setback so she was determined that her daughter would have it. She promised to pay for school and provide all she needed but was unable to be emotionally available to raise the child. The years that passed saw my mom move between at least six families across the Country. Kano, Benue and Lagos are three places I know she lived. Of course this had a couple of effects, like an unstable education. Various stressful domestic situations, like learning to cook and raise other children while being a child herself, suffering lack in-spite of plenty because. It’s not clear how much of the money her mother sent actually made it to her hands for her welfare. This triggered some survival skills as she developed an unprecedented level of resourcefulness. I am yet to see anyone else with her level of resourcefulness. She could do so much with a little. She was naturally creative, and taught herself to make the most of very bad situations. A skill that would come to be invaluable after she met and married my father. It was a gift. I call it that because it was more than a talent.

We heard stories of lack, mistreatment by uncle’s wives and jealousy from "children of the house" but through it all she was resilient. She learned to be a home maker and with no real guide or mentor to take responsibility for her, I've always thought it was a miracle that she was always so disciplined and proper. She spoke and carried herself like a Queen, I think she believed she was. She referenced to God often as her Father. Not heavenly Father, Blood Father. Yup. In her mind, if your Father is King of the kings, what does that make you? Royalty lol and the best kind too with everything you can ever want at your feet.

Although Born a Muslim, (duh, Malam’s kid) she converted and became a Christian as a teenager. She and her cousin often snuck out of home to church crusades and Christian Youth Camp Programs and risked getting into trouble. ( now makes me feel like I could have gotten away with a lot more than I dared to try. lol). She converted against both her Parent’s wishes and this was the beginning of cracks in those relationships. She was head strong and stood her ground, something I feel they’ve always respected her for but didn’t agree with.

She was her father’s favorite daughter, he didn’t even try to hide it something he passed to me naturally, so this only fueled the jealousy she had to endure from her step family in the Compound. Even though she didn’t stay very long, I got a sense that she really loved him and wished she didn’t have that drama to deal with so she could grow up with him. Whether of not he wanted to sponsor her Educational, she would have at least had stability. A common theme throughout her life, I think she craved that the most, stability and security.

Being older now, I appreciate that God gave her exactly that in the Husband he picked out for her. They both have this in common. They both described finding their faith as life changing encounters, my dad’s conversation story comes complete with a theme song lol "The infamous Hymn; Old Rugged Cross" this song was sung at ANY major life event he ever had. His value for this song cannot be put into words. They both got saved over summer holidays. Isn't it funny how God would eventually cross their paths to be woven forever?

All the skills and lessons they both developed in this phase of their lives would prove crucial for the life they would eventually build together. Writing this now only confirms a lesson I learned recently, that everything is intentional with God. Nothing is accidental. We’re talking about a Guy that took the time to describe to Moses what color of buttons he wanted on the uniforms of his Priests. Need I say more guys?. Oh and In case you’re too lazy to google it?, its Purple..lol your welcome.

So, If you are brave enough to choose to let your life to be lived by him, he really orchestrates all things, even the bad ones to work together for your good. (There’s good and there’s YOUR good.) Problem is, it’s often hard to see what he’s working out in the moment, you’ll only see it looking backwards. Suddenly, it all adds up. Suddenly, It all makes sense.

— Emphasis on you Choose.

Slaying On a Budget

We already established that Fatima was a broke chic in her twenties, what I haven’t told you is that she was born a Fashionista. lol Yeah. As any true fashion girl would tell you that’s our version of a horrible nightmare. Like the devil is a wicked devil magnitude of nightmare. Don’t lose hope girls. Jesus saved the day because somehow in all of that lack she was slayyin.

Dressing up remains one easy way to pick yourself up and be happy, but What do you do when you don’t have money though? The real question is what did Lucy do when she had no money and a lot of Jesus?

Well, She was never trendy, as anyone knows, trendy typically equals doling out tons of cash on pieces frequently, but she had style & made it all work. If you asked her she’d say she had help. What I loved about this phase of her life and