The Diary Game [27/12/2025] // Rest, Cook and Soccer day after Boxing Day.

Hi guys, compliments of the season from the motherland, Cameroon, and welcome to my blog where I share my daily lifestyle with you all.

December 25th 2025 came and gone and after Boxing Day, I was greeted with a soft harmattan breeze, the kind that tells a Cameroonian mother it is time to slow down. After the rush of Christmas, today I chose rest before wrestling with the new year. I woke later than usual, listening to the compound stir, grateful that for once no alarm ruled my morning.

For breakfast I prepared accra beans, grinding the beans patiently, seasoning them just right, and frying until golden. The smell pulled everyone toward the kitchen. I paired them with warm pap, smooth and comforting, the way my own mother served it. As I ate, I felt anchored, remembering that rest can also be nourishment.

Midmorning passed quietly. I washed a few plates, ignored others, and let the sun climb without demanding too much of me. By noon I gathered myself to cook a simple stew, rich with tomatoes, onions, and spices. I boiled white yam until it softened, knowing it would carry the stew faithfully. Cooking felt less like work and more like care, a gentle rhythm between thoughts.

After eating, I settled into the sitting room, fan humming, feet stretched out. A bowl of cold watermelon waited beside me, sweet and crisp, cutting through the heat. The television became my window to the world.

English Premier League games filled the screen, Arsenal facing Brighton, then Chelsea against Aston Villa. I watched not as an expert, but as a woman enjoying the flow of play, the cheers, the arguments from commentators, and the way football stitches conversations across homes.

Later, the mood shifted as the AFCON game between Nigeria and Tunisia came on. African football always pulls me closer. I thought about our shared stories, our rivalries, our pride. Each tackle felt personal, each goal attempt a reminder that the continent’s joy and tension can sit together in ninety minutes.

Between matches, I dozed lightly, waking to laughter from outside and the familiar sounds of neighbors debating scores. The watermelon disappeared slowly, slice by slice, as if time itself had slowed to match my breathing and I felt no guilt for resting.

As evening approached, I reflected on the year ahead. I did not list resolutions or chase plans. Instead, I promised myself more days like this, putting myself and kids first, savoring small pleasures, and allowing my body to pause. Being a Cameroonian mother often means carrying many loads, but today reminded me that rest is also strength.

I went to bed early, feeling satisfied, the stew pot was empty, the games were done, and my heart felt full. Before sleep fully claimed me, I whispered a small prayer of thanks. I thanked God for health, for food that stretched, and for peace in our home. I thought of women like me across Cameroon, balancing market days, work days, school fees, and quiet hopes. Today showed me that rest is not laziness but rather it is preparation. The new year will ask for courage, patience, and wisdom. It will bring joys and worries, victories and lessons. But if I enter it rested, my hands will be steadier and my words kinder.

My rest felt earned, my spirit calm, and my home peaceful, and in that quiet moment, I trusted the year ahead would meet me gently, just as this resting day had done, leaving me ready, renewed, hopeful, steady, thankful, and unafraid at last, today. Until my next diary entry, I wish you all a prosperous new year in advance.