Blessing
Edidiong

Before I knew you

Somewhere in 1997, a little girl named Blessing Edidiong Nathaniel entered the world.

She had no idea who I was. I had absolutely no idea she existed. And yet, years later, that little girl would become the woman I call Mama.

Before I knew your smile, your strength, your stubbornness, your kindness, or the peace you bring into my life, you were already becoming you.

“The little girl before the woman.”

The day our paths crossed

Calabar. Computer Science Department. Two course mates. One shared circle of friends.

You were my school daughter because of a friend we both shared. I saw you. You saw me. And honestly... nothing happened. 😂

There was no movie scene. No lightning. Just two people going about their lives.

Then I noticed you were struggling academically. I had walked through that struggle myself, so I understood what it felt like. I stepped in because I wanted to help you.

I thought I was helping a course mate. I did not know I was getting to know the woman I would one day call Mama.

“Two people who had absolutely no idea what was coming.”

When we became us

Somewhere between the conversations, the help, the laughter and spending more time together, something changed.

I started seeing something in you that I did not think everyone else had noticed: your dedication, your passion, your hardworking spirit, the softness you carried, the peace you brought with you — and your beauty.

In 2021, we stopped being just two people who knew each other. We became us.

And somehow, the ordinary moments became our private little memories — the kind only we can fully understand.

“I saw something in you that I could not overlook.”

The dream we refused to give up on

You did not end up graduating as a Computer Science graduate. But that was not the end of your story.

We started fighting for another dream: Nursing.

During COVID, through 2021 and 2022, and into 2023 while I was serving, you kept trying. You wrote exams. You kept learning. I kept encouraging you.

We did not always have money. We did not always know how the next step would work. But we kept saying the same thing: we are getting there.

“One day, we will live the best life of our lives.”

Ten floors above the ground

I started my service year and worked at VDT. Life was not exactly giving us everything we wanted.

But you would come to see me on weekends, and somehow we would find our little corner of the world.

I remember the rooftop. Ten floors above the ground. Looking at the world with you and talking about the life we would one day live.

We did not have everything then. But I wanted you to see beyond what we had in our pockets and believe that our story could become bigger, better and peaceful.

“We did not have everything. But we had a dream.”

The year that tested us

Not every chapter of our story was beautiful. Some chapters hurt. Some conversations were difficult. We came close to losing what we had built.

But somehow, we did not.

We stood through it. We learned. We became stronger. And I understood something even more clearly: nobody understands me the way you do.

Even while life was exhausting, you kept fighting for your nursing dream. We prayed when we could not control the outcome, and we kept finding our way back to each other.

“Some seasons test love. Some seasons prove it.”

Still becoming

The dream was still alive. You kept learning and building yourself while I kept trying to build a future that could hold both of us.

There was laughter too — the ordinary, silly moments that remind me why I love doing life with you.

Our story was becoming bigger than the difficult seasons. It was becoming a collection of small proofs that we kept choosing each other.

“Still fighting. Still laughing. Still us.”

The memories only we understand

Some memories belong in photographs. Others belong in the space between two people who know exactly what happened.

The places, the laughter, the sneaking around, the moments that made us look at each other and think, “How did we get here?”

I will keep those memories close — not because they were perfect, but because they were ours.

“Some chapters are private because they are precious.”

Still us

And now we are here.

I am staying with my friend. You come to visit. We talk, laugh, make memories and somehow create our little world wherever we find ourselves.

The years have changed us. Life has changed us. But the simplest thing has stayed the same: I still want you around.

“After everything, I still choose you.”

One epic night at the cinema

Then came one of those days that was simply... epic.

No complicated explanation. Just you, me, a cinema, laughter, pictures and another memory added to the story.

These are the moments I never want to take for granted — the ordinary days that become extraordinary because they happened with you.

“Another memory. Another reason to be grateful for us.”

The dream is still alive

You are still fighting for nursing. I am still fighting for the future. And both of us are still getting there, one step at a time.

One day I see you becoming a matron of a great healthcare facility, most likely abroad. And I will not stop fighting until I see you become the best version of yourself, whatever path you choose.

I want to see you win. I want to see you happy. I want to see you become everything you have been working toward.

And I want to be there when you do.

“Your dream matters to me because you matter to me.”