COLD: The Warmth is inside of You

By A Northern Female

The book "Cold" is a collection of personal stories and poetry drawn from the author's own life experiences. It explores the themes of navigating life, coping with loss, embracing love, enduring heartbreak, seeking healing, and discovering intimacy. "Cold" delves into the profound journey of finding inner warmth and self-discovery. "Cold" instil

• Language: English
• Publisher: Emphaloz Publishing House
• Release date: Dec 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9782030689110

Book preview

DEDICATION

This book, Cold, is a heartfelt dedication to the memory of two extraordinary individuals who played pivotal roles in my life: my late Father, John Bingbeng, and my late sister, Grace John Bingbeng. They were not just family but also great writers who, despite their immense talent, never had the opportunity to see their words in print.

My Father, John Bingbeng, was the bedrock of my strength and the beacon of my faith. His unwavering support and belief in me continue to fuel my determination as I navigate the twists and turns of life. His legacy lives on in my pursuit of my dreams.

My sister, Grace John, was not only a sibling but also a guiding light. She blazed a trail of excellence that has inspired me to strive for greatness in every aspect of my life. Her influence has shaped me into a better person, and her memory remains a constant reminder of the person I aspire to be.

To my dear Father and beloved sister, I want you to know that I love you beyond words. This book is a tribute to your enduring presence in my heart and the profound impact you've had on my journey. Though you are no longer with me in person, your spirits live on through the pages of Cold and in every step I take on this path you helped illuminate.

Table of ContentS

DEDICATION

TABLE OF CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

1. UNEXPECTED REALITIES

A NORTHERNER

NAVIGATING LOSS

LOVE IS NOT ENOUGH

EMOTIONAL MATURITY IN RELATIONSHIPS

2. SETTING THE PATH THROUGH LIFE

NAVIGATING HEART BREAK

LOVING AGAIN AND VULNERABILITY

CHOOSING ME

FOR RELATIONSHIPS

THE POWER OF SELF-REFLECTION

DISCOVERING SELF-INTIMACY

THROUGH DAILY HABITS

HEALING

MY BODY, MY TEMPLE

PRAYERS

POSITIVE THINKING

FREINDSHIP

STARTING AGAIN

THERE IS SOMETHING YOU CARRY

GIVE IT AN EXPRESSION

DEALING WITH INSECURITIES

LETTER TO MYSELF

LIFE LESSONS

HUMILITY

LEAVING THE COMFORT ZONE TO GROW

MEANINGFUL CONNECTIONS

THE WARMTH IS IN YOU

BEAUTY AND HEALTH TIPS

THE NORTHERN FEMALE FOUNDATION

INTRODUCING HALLITTAH

INTRODUCTION

We possess the knowledge of what needs to be done but transforming that knowledge into action can be a challenging endeavour. This is precisely why we seek advice and turn to therapists for guidance—to assist us in taking the necessary steps.

In my book, COLD, I've poured my soul onto its pages, with each chapter laying bare my heart. It explores the full spectrum of human emotions, from happiness to sadness, and delves into the realm of self-discovery. It navigates the intricate terrain of love, intimacy, and the essential steps towards healing.

Throughout the book, I've reiterated that each person's life experience is unique, and there's no singular path to living or healing. However, I believe that within these pages, you'll discover a source of solace and relief. My hope is that you, the reader, will find the warmth within yourself.

1

UNEXPECTED REALITIES

A NortherNER

I love, my name Fuhyigwe resonates with the profound blend of Fuh, meaning God, and Yigwe, signifying king in my Bambuka language from Karim Lamido, Taraba State, Nigeria. Distinct from the commonly associated Hausa or Fulani identities, everyone assumes that all Northerners are either Hausa or Fulani. For example the word Come is aweh in my paternal tongue and bau in my maternal Bagunji language, in Gombe state and it is Zo in Hausa language.

My paternal village Bambuka, is nestled beneath the mountains, I have vivid memories of the village with robust winds, very cold weather especially during the enchanting harmattan season. This magical period not only enhances evening beauty but also paints a serene backdrop, a testament to the often overlooked beauty of Northern Nigeria’s varied landscapes.

Amidst prevailing stereotypes, I take pride in the cultural heritage of the North. It’s a vibe that extends beyond the predominantly Muslim Hausa-Fulani narrative, embracing Orthodox Christians and followers of traditional religions. Generosity, often misconstrued as foolishness, is a hallmark trait, most Northerners have a source of strength despite being misunderstood.

Navigating changing times, religious harmony was once the norm, and despite gradual shifts, Northerners share a profound understanding that makes kindness effortless, transcending negative portrayals. Our shared values go beyond simplistic narratives, witnessed in the joyful moments of food sharing during both Christian and Muslim celebrations.

Yet, the prevailing image of the North often succumbs to stereotypes of violence and poverty, overshadowing the myriad positive aspects defining the region. It’s disheartening to witness the exploitation of our diversity in politics, perpetuating divisions and fostering hate, as seen in disheartening comments that plague discussions about Northern Nigeria.

In this struggle against a failed system, we are all victims shaped by leaders, parents, and religious figures and ourselves. To pave the way for improvement, transcending tribal and religious boundaries is essential. Instead, let’s focus on individual lives, radiate positive change, and navigate the challenges of life without letting race, language, or personal interests hinder our shared humanity.

We all hold our beliefs and cultures dear, and in the global context, these issues resonate universally. It’s unfortunate that as humans, we grapple with hate due to our contributions to divisive narratives. Let’s strive to make the world outside better, allowing us the time and space to address our internal struggles. After all, life’s challenges are daunting enough without adding unnecessary burdens to each other.

NAVIGATING LOSS

Thank you to pain, the powerful motivator behind countless tales of triumph, When pain grips us, it often leads to a profound journey of healing and growth.

I don't seek pain willingly, but I've made a conscious choice to find something meaningful even in the face of adversity. Life is an intricate tapestry woven with a series of events, both uplifting and distressing. It's the challenging experiences that etch themselves most deeply into the fabric of our souls.

There have been moments when I've felt overwhelmed, adrift in a sea of anguish and frustration. I've grappled with the complexities of life, including my career, business, and relationships, as they seemed to crumble like structures built on shifting sands. I've reassured myself that I've given my all, yet a nagging doubt persists. Perhaps I could have tried harder, but I find myself unable to summon the will to try again.

Anger, self-doubt, and questions about the very existence of a higher power have clouded my thoughts. I've questioned God's presence, especially when He stood witness to the loss of the two people I cherished most—my sister and my father.

In these moments of darkness, I search for the glimmer of hope, the ember of resilience, and the promise of transformation. This journey through the cold and unforgiving terrain of life has tested me in ways I never imagined, but it has also revealed the strength and determination within.

In the pages that follow, I share my story of navigating the depths of despair and emerging on the other side—a testament to the human spirit's remarkable ability to endure, evolve, and ultimately find meaning in the most challenging of circumstances.

I was still serving in Lagos when I received the distressing news that my sister had fallen seriously ill and had been rushed to the hospital. At that moment, optimism filled my heart; I believed she would recover. Regrettably, this misplaced hope led me to not call her as often as I should have. I thought time was on our side.

Eventually, her condition necessitated her transfer to a teaching hospital in Jos, Nigeria. My dad remained steadfast by her side, while my mom was pursuing her master's degree but was traveling from school in ENUGU Nigeria to Jos. My dad, fuelled by unwavering faith, resorted to prayer and fasting, believing that she would overcome her diagnosis—an autoimmune disorder that saw her own immune system turn against her.

Despite numerous attempts at treatment, including a failed dialysis, her health continued to deteriorate, ultimately leading to her passing.

In the midst of this difficult time, I learned something that would forever weigh on my heart. My sister had been asking for me during her illness. I was filled with regret and anger for not being more present. When I called it was solely to my dad and aunt, who were assisting in her care to check up on her.

My dad called me, unable to muster the words to break the devastating news. Instead, he urged me to come to Jos to bid my sister goodbye, as her chances of recovery were fading fast, Deep within, I knew the truth before he could utter it, with a heavy heart, I implored my dad to be honest with me, and he finally found the strength to confirm my fears.

I boarded a bus from Lagos to Jos, tears streaming down my face, listening to BLEEDING MACHINES by Leona Lewis, which oddly providing some solace on the long journey. Upon my arrival in Jos, I found my mother on the floor, I could tell that she was exhausted from the relentless tears shed for her firstborn child. No parent should ever have to endure the agony of burying their own child.

The following day, we made the somber journey to the hospital to transport her lifeless body back to Taraba. I stood there, my gaze fixed upon her motionless body clothed in white, while my mother, in a moment of profound sorrow, held her feet and whispered, My daughter Grace, I will see you soon. Her body appeared swollen, her skin darker than the sister I had known, and the sight was overwhelmingly heart-wrenching.

My sister revealed a profound truth that many should know: depression takes a toll on both mental and physical health. While we often see the emotional struggle, it silently affects the body. Before her passing, my sister experienced the loss of her fiancé, a flight lieutenant in the Nigerian Navy, in a tragic plane crash on July 2nd. We travelled together to Abuja for his military burial, an agonizing event. However, I couldn't comprehend the depth of her pain. She frequently spoke of him on the phone with his friends, and I, unaware of her suffering, urged her to move on and stop talking about him frequently. I was insensitive because I didn't understand the anguish of losing someone close. Four years later, I still mourn her loss and discuss her passing, and each time, it rekindles the pain. My sister passed away on 10th September, 2019, just nine months after her fiancé.

Through this experience, I learned that people grieve in their unique ways. Instead of imposing our own feelings on them, we should support them in their process. I wish I could turn back time and provide the support my sister needed, but I can't.

Just as I thought I was moving forward after my sister's death, I lost my dad eleven months later.

After completing my National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) in Lagos, I embarked on a journey back to Taraba State. It was a time of excitement as I had just launched my company, HALLITTAH, and sales were flourishing. Despite travel restrictions due to COVID-19, I managed to find a way to send my products from the Northern part of Nigeria to Lagos, where I sold them online. Later, I discovered that I could travel by road, so I asked my Dad for permission to deliver my products personally, as some customers were encountering issues with their orders. Little did I know that this journey would mark a poignant farewell from my father.

Before my departure, my father would frequently mention my late sister in church, during our morning devotions at home, and at any opportunity he had. My sister's passing had profoundly affected my father, although I hesitate to say she was his favorite. He treated all of us equally, but there was a unique bond between him and Grace. She bore an uncanny resemblance to his late mother, whom he credited for his upbringing and success in