Gates the Writer

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Gates the Writer A Writer who loves taking/posing for Pictures. Writer - Photographer - Shutterbug
Writing first at seven, I've explored my flair for writing.

Please join me. An exploration blog. Do you have questions? Do you need answers? We would sort it out, together.

Another AWARD in the bag!!! I came to this school to do great things❤🙏(FIRST SLIDE: ...I came 1st in the 3rd edition of ...
27/08/2023

Another AWARD in the bag!!! I came to this school to do great things❤🙏

(FIRST SLIDE: ...I came 1st in the 3rd edition of the USAG essay writing competition.
SECOND SLIDE: ...Latest award)

On 11th August 2023... at the SPAN Uniben's Dinner and Award night, the nominees were called for "Most Social Male Spanite of the Year."

The announcer called my name amongst the nominees, and I shivered. My competitors were strong. Some in the 300 level and 200 level... I was only in 100 level and resumed in January.

Did I even stand a chance?

Some chanted for whom they had voted. I had no one chanting for me. I hoped that the votes were properly collated and would favour me.

Lo and behold, she (the announcer) said,
"...and the winner is, GATES OGBEBOR!!"

I wanted to scream, shout, dance... I wanted to do a lot of things.

To all supporters and to those who voted, THANK YOU.❤❤

WE KEEP WINNING!!!

~ Gates Ogbebor

Your Favourite Writer Hosted a Red Carpet!!!!!On Friday, 11th of August, 2023, the Students' Physiological Association o...
26/08/2023

Your Favourite Writer Hosted a Red Carpet!!!!!

On Friday, 11th of August, 2023, the Students' Physiological Association of Nigeria (SPAN), Uniben chapter closed their eventful health week with her Dinner and Award Night.

We called for Glamour, and Spanites delivered! They fed our eyes with elegant appearances and regal gaits as they graced the occasion one after the other.

Our 'single pringles' came in with pride, couples fascinated us with mutual affection, and the odogwu VIPs did not slack as they mounted with classy entrances.

On the Red Carpet:
The host, Gates Ogbebor, engaged in discussions with some attendees who served with their looks. They talked about their outfits, expectations, and other topics. He collaborated closely with the current PRO of SPAN, Uniben Chapter, Comr. Favour Wisdom and another charismatic Spanite, Afuba Emmanuel Muna.

The Main Event(s):
Thrilled Spanites cheered and applauded between performances by various artists (music, comedy, rap, etc.). There were games too.

For the Mr. and Miss SPAN Uniben contest, some gorgeous Spanites took to the stage. Mr Stephen and Miss Munie emerged as winners.

The Awards Presentation (nominations & merit) was one of the evening's most eagerly anticipated events. Congratulations to all nominees and winners in the different categories.

There was food and drinks. It was time for the After Party!!!

The whole event was a time of merriment.

Thanks to everyone supporting me, including you🥰🥰


A big THANK YOU to everyone who likes and engages with my posts❤️❤️❤️❤️I've received 100 reactions to my posts in the pa...
07/08/2023

A big THANK YOU to everyone who likes and engages with my posts❤️❤️❤️❤️

I've received 100 reactions to my posts in the past 30 days. Thanks for your support. 🙏🤗🎉

JULY, I can SEE you going...😌AUGUST, be GOOD to my FOLLOWERS and I🙏❤️
01/08/2023

JULY, I can SEE you going...😌

AUGUST, be GOOD to my FOLLOWERS and I🙏❤️


This is the last post about my Faculty’s health week (Day 4).The dinner and award night was splendid. A bit tiring becau...
29/07/2023

This is the last post about my Faculty’s health week (Day 4).

The dinner and award night was splendid. A bit tiring because I got there too early, although later than the stipulated time.

On the flier, the red carpet was to start by 5 pm. I got to the venue at &pm and met very few people. The ceremony had not commenced.

Serene music played as guests arrived one after the other.

In my previous post, I mentioned that I was nominated for “Freshman of the Year.” (more about it in a subsequent post)

I wasn’t in the hall when the presentation of the awards started. Why?

Two coursemates called me saying they forgot their tickets at home. I took it upon myself to find out if there was payment on arrival.

As we walked in, the MC called my category.

“The award for ‘freshman of the year goes to,” he said, “Chris…”

Oops, I didn’t win. 💔

I felt bad. Who wouldn’t? But it was only for a few seconds.

Food! Food!! Food!!!

I ate jollof and fried rice, with very fleshy meat. I also ate poundo yam and egusi soup.
Chai!!!

Then, the lights went dim … After party!

It was a night of merriment.


On the 3rd day of the Health Week.... Gist from Day 3😉I chose to attend this event in shorts. Particularly orange shorts...
24/07/2023

On the 3rd day of the Health Week.... Gist from Day 3😉

I chose to attend this event in shorts. Particularly orange shorts because I had paid for a soldier-green jacket merch; as promised, I should have got it that day. I did not.

The event was a colour festival and BAMSSA got Talent. I was on the edge og my seat every single time and jumped up and screamed because some performances blew me away.

A lot of people made videos of me because of my unmatched energy and joviality.

I would have got an award for most interactive member of the audience.

It ended with the final performances postponed to the Dinner and Award Night -- grand finale!!!!!!!!!!

Did I also mention that I was nominated by members of my faculty???

I got a nomination for "Freshman of the Year."

😄❤️

A medium to spoil myself with beautiful words❤️❤️❤️The Versatile Gates... An individual that cannot be compared to any.....
21/07/2023

A medium to spoil myself with beautiful words❤️❤️❤️

The Versatile Gates... An individual that cannot be compared to any... Second to none.

Ouch!!!

My presence turns their heads, and if only they were owls, 360 would be the angle of their twirls.

Fine wine, with kings I shall dine. 🌹🌹🌹

Are you ready for the 'Day 2' gist from the Health Week in my faculty?I dressed simply in black, ready for the symposium...
20/07/2023

Are you ready for the 'Day 2' gist from the Health Week in my faculty?

I dressed simply in black, ready for the symposium slated for 11:30 a.m. It didn’t start until some minutes to two because attendance was slow.

Africa time took control. I was hurt because I got there on time and had to wait. To compensate, I took a stroll and posed for some pictures.

***
The MC welcomed dignitaries to the high table.

The event commenced.

It was a fun time filled with music and lectures. As future medical practitioners, the speakers enlightened us about opportunities and how to efficiently manage our health as we care for others.

“Wealth in Health.”

Prestigious personalities also received awards. One of them is Dr. Adaze, the asst. dean of the faculty.

The most fun activity that got the audience screaming was the proposal on the stage:

A guy publicly asked a girl in the audience on a date to the Health Week Dinner, which was the last event (Day 4).

I was one of the participants. I helped him hold a poster that read, "Will you be my Date?" (pictures and more details soon).

Also, I jumped on an opportunity to take pictures with the Staff adviser of the faculty, Dr. John Anionye.

The symposium was a time to learn and grow as a student.

What a fun semester!


As promised... Gist from the health week (day 1)I walked out of my hostel to the crowd of energetic students, banners, a...
19/07/2023

As promised... Gist from the health week (day 1)

I walked out of my hostel to the crowd of energetic students, banners, and a vibrant song. Unsure, I looked closely to ensure they were Bamssites (students from my faculty).

They were!

I joined them and exchanged pleasantries with friends. Then, the music stopped.

"We would have to split up and cut the music as we go on because it had come to our notice that some people have a motive of disrupting our rally," the PRO of the faculty said.

Slowly, the crowd dispersed.

We had a destination and were to meet there. The destination was close, but outside the school premises. And the fear,

Was about crossing the gate between school and Ekosodin - a notorious area, which happened to be our destination.

The first day, 10th of February, was for RALLY and MEDICAL OUTREACH.
As usual, your writer was not dull.

On getting to our meeting point, there were three canopies and a truck with two gigantic speakers. Wow!

The 'real' rally was about to start.

I sat with some friends for a while and the set up began. Others became to set the tables and clinical instruments.

Everywhere lit up. The music started playing.

When the truck began to move, some of us followed; singing, hailing, and sharing leaflets.

Two MCs enlightened the public about the Free Medical Checkup we planned as we went on.

I remember them saying,

A: If na nurse,
B: ...we get am!

A: If na Physiotherapist,
B: we get am!

A: If na Lab scientist,
B: we get am!

They went on and on, then mentioned some ailments the populace could face that we could diagnose.

Some old women who saw us danced to our music. It was fun.

***
After walking around sensitizing the public, we rallied back to the canopies where the medical practitioners sat ready to receive all.

The scrubs, lab coats, stethoscopes, syringes and other instruments intrigued me.

There was positive turnout! People from all age brackets came!!

I wanted the PRO to interview me, but he didn't. Ouch😓



Meet Gates: the Writer and Physiology student.Last week was fun, hectic, and health-filled as the faculty of Basic Medic...
17/07/2023

Meet Gates: the Writer and Physiology student.

Last week was fun, hectic, and health-filled as the faculty of Basic Medical Sciences had their Health Week '23

❤️

After a long period of silence on this platform, I will share the phenomenal experiences I had during the Rally, Symposium, Colour festival, and finally the BAMSSA dinner.

😜

Today is Welcome Back day... Yayyy!!

🎈

I remain, the Versatile GATES 💪

A PIECE FOR YOU, Gates the Writer  ❤️🥺You have grown amidst the bellows of life's sea. Every step, every cry, and the sl...
16/07/2023

A PIECE FOR YOU, Gates the Writer ❤️🥺

You have grown amidst the bellows of life's sea. Every step, every cry, and the slightest pain;

the waves of ecstasy and soothing energy;

flaring anger, rage, loneliness;

the dark rooms that gave comfort when experiences ate you up;

the friends who cared despite never reading the pain hidden behind the façade of your endless smiles;

the family that stood by you even when s**t went down;

the God that was with you in every breakdown you could never share;

the moments when you clench on to your mother's arms wishing to be reborn into a world less judgemental;

the smiles with your sister whom you always looked up to;

the hate you tried to nurture everytime your brother hit you for corrections;

the disdain when people say you are a boy;

the times you sit with a pen and cannot write anything, and you wonder if God already took away your talent because of your sins....
***

Sometimes, reminiscing is necessary. And, this is not some sad s**t😂😂😂

~ Gates Ogbebor
P.S. : not a poem.

SHE NEVER SAW HER CHILD😔.“I will give birth to a baby who’d be greater than any other,” Mei whispered and repeated under...
17/06/2023

SHE NEVER SAW HER CHILD😔.

“I will give birth to a baby who’d be greater than any other,” Mei whispered and repeated under her breath.

She rubbed her tummy in a circular motion, working clockwise, paused at her belly button, and continued.

She behind to hum. It turned into a lullaby. “I love this song, mummy.” Huan kicks.

“Oh, my love.”

“I’m still scared, mummy. I don’t want to come out,” the foetus—Huan—cried.

Mei continues the lullaby, and Huan goes quiet, kicking gently.

💡{This is the 2nd part. For more interesting flow, see the first part in the Comments Section🙏}

Dr. Ying walks in. “How are you today, Mei?”

“I’m good. Huan is good too.”

“Sure, you are; the tests confirm that.”

The fire of the setting sun managed to cast a faint shadow on the allies and set the sky ablaze. Mei sat on an old-fashioned stool by her window, sewing a dress.

The sight was beautiful and nostalgic.

She began to feel discomfort. The pain got sharper, sharper, and sharper.

PRESENT DAY(Two Years Later)~

“You know, I thought it was the beauty of science, which God wanted us to realise,” Dr. Ying said. She had a baby in her arms.

It was a spring morning. A young woman stood beside her in the graveyard. The newly risen sun reflected off the gravestones around them. Countless lives that had already ended glowed again with a soft orange light.

They both stood before a grave.

No, the baby in Dr. Ying’s arms isn’t Mei’s, and neither is the woman beside her, Mei.

~~~

“Argghhh!!!” Mei groaned in pain. She was now on the floor, soaked in a mix of her tears and blood. “Dr. Ying said you’re due in a month!!” She cried.

Slowly, the darkness faded, and the reflection of pale blue and the smell of anesthetics welcomed Mei back to reality.

“Where is my baby?” Her eyes closed.

PRESENT DAY ~

“Tell me where is fancy bred, or in the heart, or in the head?” muttered Dr. Ying.

“What did you say?” The mother looked at Dr. Ying, confused.

“Something Shakespeare once wrote.”

Huan, who possessed all of Mei’s memories, had torn off its umbilical cord. The unborn life was over before a good samaritan helped Mei to the hospital.

It was a wonder how the foetus’ tiny hands could do such.

The two women now stood before the grave of the youngest su***de in the history of the human race.

Closing with an extract from the book:
“Dr. Ying studied the baby in her arms as though looking at an experiment. But the baby’s gaze was different from hers. He was busy sticking out his little arms to grab at the drifting cottony poplar catkins. Surprise and joy filled his bright, black eyes. The world was a blooming flower, a beautiful, gigantic toy. He was completely unprepared for the long, winding road of life ahead of him and thus ready for anything.”

Really, Gates? Press their necks?I wished the article had more criticisms instead of giving only gentle nudges. A news a...
14/06/2023

Really, Gates? Press their necks?

I wished the article had more criticisms instead of giving only gentle nudges. A news article published by The Guardian called out the state and local governments for their lackadaisical attitude towards the rise in corruption while blaming them for the inability of the federal tier to tackle the uprising adequately.

The stakeholders backed up their claim by pointing out that over 60 percent of the monthly allocations in the country go to the state and local governments.

You and I weren’t exempted, at least our necks weren’t pressed either. They shunned political apathy and called for citizens’ political participation as it should aid in addressing corruption in the country.

The speakers were of high academic, business, and political statuses [see about them later].

One of the speakers, a university don, said corruption in the private sector is much higher than in the public sector. “We can fight corruption through political participation. We cannot be ignoring the process that produces our leaders,” he said.

Another speaker, an executive director, supported him by saying that participation in political activities increases the efficacy of the anti-corruption fight because it makes one’s voice heard.

Now, I can't help but question how citizens' political participation should change the position of corruption in the country when we get robbed in broad daylight.

The just concluded presidential election, which was held in Nigeria on 25th February 2023, was disheartening. Like never before, Nigerians, more specifically the youths, came out for their voices to be heard. Yet, there was apparent rigging and injustice—the government trampled on their rights!

Is this how we hope to defeat corruption?

Another university don who was present in the meeting said anti-corruption campaigns in the country were not properly reported and required improvement. I think of this as a more achievable approach.

Yes, I support the state and local governments being held responsible as they are the closest to the populace. However, the federal government is not left out.

We all have roles to play to achieve a better Nigeria. But I would not overemphasise citizens’ work as much as the others.

Evidently, the ultimate power remains in the government, which ironically should be the citizens since we claim to practise democracy. Alas, our democracy seems to be mere words.

The local and state government can start by making significant changes in the public sector, which will positively rub on the people. Thus, the citizens would be rest assured of their voices being heard.

The meeting took place on 10th June 2023 in Abuja. It was a stakeholders’ inception meeting on Nigeria’s anti-corruption performance public reporting project put together by the Centre for Media, Policy, and Accountability (CMPA).

In conclusion, you and I need to do our part and hope for a better system of governance.

To get more information and know more about the speakers, see comments.

A CONTEMPORARY SONNET😔This child sat still in the blindspot wrapped in the hope of whatThe world had left as a birthday ...
11/06/2023

A CONTEMPORARY SONNET😔

This child sat still in the blindspot wrapped in the hope of what
The world had left as a birthday present: her mother and lover
Ready to walk the aisle of eternal dreams without saying goodbye.

Annie the doll was her comfort as she stroked her hair,
Filled with uncertainty and disbelief in
The promises of Aunty Shakira that she never doubted
Until she felt blue, turned pale, and stood up with
Determination to see her beautiful mama, whom they
Wouldn’t let her meet because she was not strong enough or
Needed more than her juvenile brain to swallow the pill.

O, her senses perceived waves of wroth 'cause
Mama’s promise was a baby brother, and there was
No sight. From the walls, she heard Mother nature
Left her nothing but sceptic sorrows.

NEW CAT WAHALA😂Two friends wait in line to order snacks from the cafeteria.Both girls wear matching outfits: Their boots...
10/06/2023

NEW CAT WAHALA😂

Two friends wait in line to order snacks from the cafeteria.

Both girls wear matching outfits: Their boots, mini knife-pleated skirts, and oversized sweater complement their leather brown and French roast coloured hair, respectively.

“I would have fainted if I had to wait any longer,” the taller of the girls says, looking around for space.

“Babe, let’s sit here.” The chair screeches from Lola’s pull.

They sit opposite one another. Lola takes a bite of her shawarma and rolls her eyes at her friend, Folake.

“What?” Folake’s disdain makes Lola laugh and almost choke. She drinks some juice.

“Nothing oo. Is there nothing to talk about? You are always coming with the gist.”

“Lola, abeg—” Her hand digs into her fries. “Hmmm! Karo and Sarah!!”

“Seriously? This single life no dey tire you? We are always talking about other people’s relationships,” Lola says. She chuckles.

“That’s the best. But, wait oo, did he really cheat?” Folake asked.

“I would be surprised. That short boy.”

“She deserved the breakup. Werey girl.”

“Abba, I completely disagree. She’s really cool.”

Folake smirks. “You say this because you’re guilty.”

“Don’t even start. Our fight was long ago and my conscience is free,” says Lola, getting breathless with anger.

“Chill joor”

“You are always like this! No matter the issue, you hate being logical.”

“Don’t come for me, I wasn’t the one who called Burna boy a ‘new cat.’”

Folake knows Lola is obsessed with Davido. That was a strike.

“You and deviating from the matter at hand, 5 & 6.”

“No, let’s talk about that and leave the relationship people alone!”

“Fine.”

Folake and Lola take long sips, every drop refreshing and satisfying. Lola was a debater in secondary school and Folake seldom wins in an argument, that doesn’t stop her.

“Davido classifying Burnaboy with Rema and the rest was a big lie! Forget OBO, what can Davido boast of that Burna can’t!” Folake said, glaring at Lola. She laughs.

“Straight for my neck.” Lola sighs. “Davido and Wizkid are the gurus oo, Where was Burna in 2012?”

“He was with them.”

“With who? He was a mere v***n in Cynthia Morgan’s music video in 2015.”

“Davido only had grace and Daddy’s money.”

“Oh Please.”

“I just remembered!” Folake sits on the edge of her seat as if ready to strike.

“There’s nothing you want to say.”

“Your 001 hasn't smelled Grammy nomination, Yet Oluwa Burna has six and has won one. Beat that!”

“Hello, it’s not about awards but impact.” Lola shrugs.

“Yesterday, Burna also shut down London stadium, 60k fans in one place!”

“Davido has shut down places too.”

“None that Burna hasn’t. Is it O2 arena?”

“All I know is that in 2012, Davido was a made artist and Burna was nothing.”

“Old Cat’s international recognition no reach Burna own,” said Folake. She contorts her face and taps the table

“My 001, Old Cat, Davido’s recognition is bigger, ehn.”

“Even the Timeless album no reach Love Damini.”

Lola forced a yawn and said, “You’re lucky I’m tired.”

“I think I won.”

“You didn’t win anything. The fact that Davido called him a new cat, he’s a new cat”

“Burnaboy had a song in 2012, Like to Party,” A deep voice says. It was that of a coursemate, Bernad.

“Oops!” Folake whispered and bolted up.

THEY BULLIED A BOY... (a true life story) “Bye, mummy, love you,” I said hurriedly. I stepped out into the streets shrou...
09/06/2023

THEY BULLIED A BOY... (a true life story)

“Bye, mummy, love you,” I said hurriedly. I stepped out into the streets shrouded in mist. Little did I know…

I was a dynamic young student keen on getting to school early, and this was one of those days. Had I known, I shouldn’t have been in haste.

On several occasions, my mum complained that I was only in a rush during prayer time. I never paid attention to it. “What’s in prayer that I can’t pray?” I would mumble under my breath. It was no different on the day of this incident.

“I love you, too, my son,—” my mum replied with a smile. “—the Lord go with you.” She added.

I can’t remember whether I said amen; I only remember wanting to get to school before the day got bright. It was a few minutes past six, but quite dark because of the season.

My white socks were in my bag to avoid stains before getting to school; my leg was bare in my over-polished brown sandals. Its buckle was loose because I forgot to meet the repairer the day before.

My morning was exuberant, I envisaged a great day. I was also careful to avoid a fall and having my leg swallowed by the scary gully on the street. Nevertheless, I sashayed down the road.

I turned to the pavement of a shopping complex and decided to put on my socks— I was walking majestically, with no room for slacking.

After wearing my socks, I had a hunch that something wasn’t right. Yes, something was wrong.

I stood upright and saw two ‘agbero’ guys, one in front and another behind. “Why did I decide to wear my socks now?” My mind raced across the Atlantic and back. I wanted to wake up, alas! It wasn’t a dream. I couldn’t cry.

“Shebi omo Iju leleyi…” One of them said to the other for confirmation. His voice was hoarse. (I perceive the smell of cigarette smoke as I write this part, and I’m scared).

“Awon ni naa… ri ori re, awọn onija, .” The other added.

They were talking to a log. I wasn’t me. Scared to death, I didn’t know what to say.

I had imagined these scenarios before and replayed Jackie Chan and Jet Li’s acts as my defence. I needed that then, but it betrayed me.

“Egbon, ejoor. Modaran.” Please. I’m in trouble. I pleaded in a forced voice. I didn’t have a deep voice, but my vocal cords had to adapt.

This incident was a day after my school’s inter-house sports. From the rant of the boys in Yoruba, I deduced that there was a fight between my school’s boys and some touts after the event. That was customary in public schools.

I didn’t even know there was a fight. The prayers I complained about at home now seemed too small. I tried to be tough, but I wasn’t a tough boy. I was a timid introvert.

“Oya, give us something. If not, we will finish you and still take it.” One said in Yoruba.

I tried not to fidget, but my legs failed.

My hands reluctantly went into my pocket and brought out all the money there. I handed it over, and they left. Finally, there was a sigh of relief. I feared they might transfer aggression.

To date, I ask myself why I didn’t return home.

I got to school and recounted the tale to my friend, Olawale. He laughed, and I laughed; It was funny, just not during the encounter.

Thank God I can tell the story.

This Story Has Already Been Told.Have you ever wondered why babies are born clueless?The glass table reflected the brigh...
08/06/2023

This Story Has Already Been Told.

Have you ever wondered why babies are born clueless?

The glass table reflected the bright globe hanging on the ceiling. Mei’s eyes were expectant as if there was something about to happen. She spoke, “Baby, can you hear me?”

There was no response, not even an echo. Despite being the only one there, questionable types of equipment filled the room–ones that required expertise to decipher. Mei was tied to the seat while several straps were attached to her stomach.

She took a deep breath, scared about the experiment being a failure. She took a deep breath, scared about the experiment being a failure.

“Baby, can you hear me?” She asked again. She clenched her fist and mumbled some prayers.

“Where am I?” A feathery voice asked back. But for the graveyard silence, Mei wouldn’t have heard.

Mei hesitated. She was confused, but ebullience prevailed.

“Oh, good! You can hear me. I’m your mother.” She replied.

Who was she talking to?

Science had grown wings and was able to cause a conversation between a mother and her foetus. Mei was a pregnant woman in a special lab run by Dr. Ying. Dr. Ying had promised her that she would give birth to a baby replica of her, and the process involved a conversation test.

The conversation went on with the mother and foetus. The foetus described the mother's heartbeat as a rumble of thunder and said it was floating in a water-filled place.

“That’s called the ami—ani—amniotic fluid. Hard word, I know. I just learned it today, too,” she clarified.

“I like this place. I want to stay here forever,” the foetus cried.

“Ha, you can’t do that! You’ve got to be born.” Mei said and grimaced.

“No! It’s scary out there.” The foetus was not lying; Mei knew this too.

An elegant woman in flay trousers and a floral blouse walked in with a stethoscope on her neck. She pulled her lab coat from the hanger and put it on slowly as she walked towards Mei.

Mei continues her conversation with the foetus. “Let’s call you Huan.”

“Happiness?”

“Yes, my love. That’s what I felt when I got here.” She smiled and had a brief reverie. “I was once like you, except that I don’t remember anything from being in my mama’s belly. Is it dark in there?”

“There’s a faint light coming from outside. It’s a reddish-orange glow, like the color of the sky when the sun is just setting behind the mountain at Xitao Village.” Huan’s response came as a surprise to Mei.

“You remember Xitao? That’s where I was born!” Her eyes, dilated and her mouth opened wide. Dr. Ying looked at her, smiled, and looked away; she scrutinized the readings on a display monitor in the lab.

“I do know what you look like. I even know what you looked like as a child,” Huan continued.

“I don’t know what to say–”

“Mama, I sense someone else out there with you.”

“Yes, that’s Dr. Ying. She designed this machine that allows us to talk to each other, even though you can’t speak while floating in amniotic fluid.”

Surprisingly, Huan described Dr. Ying. Wow!

“Hello there!” Dr. Ying said

“Hi … I think you study brains?” Huan said.

“Yes, dear. It’s neuroscience. My study entails how brains create thoughts and construct memories.” Dr. Ying said with pride and adjusted her glasses.

A human brain possesses enormous information storage capacity, with more neurons than there are stars in the Milky Way. But most of the brain’s capacity seems unused.

Dr. Ying’s specialty is studying the parts that lay fallow. She and her team found that the brain parts assumed to be blank hold immense information. Only recently did they discover that it is memories from ancestors.

Dr. Ying, consumed with pride went on. “Memory inheritance is very common across different species. For example, many cognitive patterns we call “instincts”—such as a spider’s knowledge of how to weave a web or a bee’s understanding of how to construct a hive—are just inherited memories.”

Dr. Ying’s thesis, after the novel discovery of memory inheritance in humans, was that it was more complete than in other species. Unlike other attributes passed on through genetic codes, she believed that the amount of information involved in memory inheritance is too high; instead, the memories are coded at the atomic level in the DNA through quantum states in the atoms. She mentioned that it involves the study of quantum biology. How brilliant, but confusing!

“Dr., my baby doesn’t want to be born. It says it’s too scary,” Mei said. The worry in her voice was vivid, but she still found it funny.
Mei struggled until the past year when she met Dr. Ying. She ran away from her hometown, Xitao, where there was no hope for personal growth. She felt maltreated

Huan went on to narrate Mei’s life to her. It mentioned her endless job rotation in different cities, all the jobs migrant labourers did. When things got tough, Mei had to pick through the trash for recyclables that she could sell.

The foetus knew everything about its mother, Mei–Her childhood, struggles, ups and downs; everything.

Dr. Ming had told Mei that they had developed a technique to modify the genes in a fertilized egg and activate the dormant inherited memories. She believed the next generation would be able to achieve more by building on their inheritance.

Mei had lived a scary life and wanted nothing like it for her child. So, she agreed to the doctor’s promise of a better life for her child who’d have her view of life and be able to manoeuvre easily.

“Do we know who my father is?” Huan asked the doctor.

“The s***m donor requested that his identity be kept secret, and your mother agreed,” replied Dr. Ying. “–in reality, his identity is insignificant. All your memories are of your mother.”

“Why?” Curious foetus asked.

“Despite having the facilities, we don’t know the consequences of having two people’s memories simultaneously active in a single mind.”

Mei sighed and chipped in, “You don’t know the consequences of activating just my memories either.”

The conversation went well.

About a year later, Dr. Ying stands before a grave, solemn. There’s a baby in her hand but not Mei’s child.

Something went wrong!

I promise to tell you, STAY TUNED.

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