Part Twenty Three: One year

Dear Morayo, I'm not quite sure how this has happened, but tomorrow you're going to be one.  One entire year old.  This time a year ago we were at the hospital waiting for the birthing pool to be inflated whilst chatting between contractions, and now I have to try and get my head around the … Continue reading Part Twenty Three: One year →

Part Twenty Two: Long distance

Dear Morayo, After your Dad was released from that awful prison on the outskirts of Amman, you would probably assume that the first thing he would do would be to get on a plane and travel directly home to Lagos Nigeria.  After all, I was in Azerbaijan, he didn't have a house or a job … Continue reading Part Twenty Two: Long distance →

Part Twenty One: Nine hours

Dear Morayo, Have I mentioned what an amazing sleeper I was before you came along?  Your Nanna has always said that when I was little, I used to just drop my chin into my mashed potato at dinner time and have a quick snooze whenever the opportunity arose.  Now I don't know whether that's true … Continue reading Part Twenty One: Nine hours →

Part Twenty: Relief

Dear Morayo, I needn't have worried last week when you decided to reject my breast.  I was about to give up offering but persevered one more time by ramming it into your mouth and squishing down hard (that's the funny thing about breastfeeding; it sounds so idyllic and natural and wonderful until you find yourself … Continue reading Part Twenty: Relief →

Part Nineteen: Rejection

Dear Morayo, I did it.  I left your Dad in prison in Amman just before Christmas of 2013- packed up all my things, gave everything else away and got on a flight.  I have absolutely no recollection of going to the airport, the flight itself, or even what I did with the three weeks I … Continue reading Part Nineteen: Rejection →

Part Eighteen: Crappy Christmas

Dear Morayo, It's 2020 now- a brand new year and a brand new decade.  Your first Christmas was quiet, but one in which we discovered that you much prefer wrapping paper to actual presents, and also that you're a huge fan of Yorkshire puddings! I had a tough time over the festive period, it has … Continue reading Part Eighteen: Crappy Christmas →

Part Seventeen: Dirt

Dear Morayo, Not only can you now clap your hands, but you can wave hello and goodbye, and even say 'hiiiii'.  Obviously I'm bursting with pride, think you're bordering on genius, and have told everyone I know- I mean, you're not even nine months old yet!  Star in the making! I've been putting off writing … Continue reading Part Seventeen: Dirt →

Part Sixteen: Privilege

Dear Morayo, You know by now that your Dad and I met in Jordan. Prior to living in Amman, he had lived in Dubai as well as his home country of Nigeria, and I had lived in Libya, Yemen and Sri Lanka as well as growing up in the UK.  Since leaving Amman I worked … Continue reading Part Sixteen: Privilege →

Part Fourteen: Memories of waiting

Dear Morayo, I suppose I have been putting off writing about visiting your Dad in prison because I don't really want to know what I can and can't remember.  It feels as though it happened to someone else, but simultaneously that it is an integral part of who I am now.  I assume that your … Continue reading Part Fourteen: Memories of waiting →