Why I Wrote The Impossible President

When I first wrote The Impossible President in 2002, I was not trying to predict the future, nor was I trying to write a lesson in politics. I was thinking about young women pressured into prostitution because of a lack of hope. I wrote The Impossible President to encourage them to believe they can be anything they set their minds to, to change their circumstances and strive for something better. I thought about the women I had met, the women I had admired, and the women whose stories rarely find their way into newspapers, history books, or public conversations.

The longer I live, the more convinced I become that some of the strongest people in the world are ordinary women whose names most of us will never know. They are the women who keep families together through difficult times. The women who postpone their own dreams to help others build theirs. The women who return to education later in life because circumstances prevented them from doing so earlier. The women who survive loss, disappointment and hardship and somehow find the strength to begin again. Their stories are our stories.

When I created Tinuke, I wanted to create a character who embodied that spirit. Her journey is dramatic. She survives political upheaval, imprisonment, betrayal and countless attempts to push her aside. Yet she refuses to surrender her belief in herself. Tinuke is not based on a single woman. She represents many women.

As I prepared this international edition, I found myself reflecting on women whose courage has shaped communities, countries and generations. Some are well known, while others are not.

We think of women such as Rosa Parks, whose courageous act of defiance became a turning point in the American civil rights movement. We think of Wangari Maathai, who transformed environmental activism in Africa. We think of Malala Yousafzai, who continued to speak out for girls’ education despite an attempt to silence her. We think of Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti, who challenged authority and fought for Nigerian women at a time when few expected women to have a public voice. But courage isn’t limited to famous names; millions of women support their families worldwide without receiving a plaque or recognition for their efforts. They just get on with it.

Recently, I was deeply moved by Yanuni, the documentary produced by Leonardo DiCaprio that follows Indigenous leader Juma Xipaia and her fight to protect her people and the Amazon rainforest despite threats, political opposition and personal risk. Her story takes place thousands of miles from Nigeria, yet the determination at its centre feels familiar. It is the determination of someone who refuses to be intimidated into silence.

That determination is everywhere. You find it among women across Africa, Europe, Asia, the Middle East, the Americas, and beyond. It is found among women who build businesses, teach children, care for families, lead communities, challenge injustice and create change in ways that are often overlooked.

This new edition is dedicated to my husband, John, whose encouragement inspired me to reconsider the women behind this story, those who make history and those who make life possible. The women who dared. The women who stayed. The women who never gave up.

Above all, this book is dedicated to women and girls everywhere. To the girl who wants to go to school. To the girl who dreams of becoming a doctor, teacher, writer, scientist, entrepreneur, or leader. To the woman rebuilding her life after violence or loss. To the woman determined to live free from fear. To the woman who has been told she cannot but chooses to try anyway.

The title is The Impossible President. But the book’s true message has never been about politics. It has always been about possibility. I hope that somewhere, a young reader will close this book and see her own future differently. I hope she will understand that other people’s expectations need not determine the course of her life.

And I hope she will remember that many of the achievements we now take for granted once seemed impossible.

To my friends and readers around the world, much love, always! 🙂

Four Days Until The Impossible President.

Posing with The Impossible President today. I took the picture myself, so the title looks the way it does! 🙂

I haven’t posted here for a while, partly because life has been unusually busy. Between work, publishing, and my PhD research, the months seem to have folded into one another and disappeared before I had noticed. Oct 14th was also my birthday, which made me reflective, as birthdays tend to do.

The older I get, the less interested I am in chasing time and the more I value using it well. None of us knows how much time we have left. What matters, I think, is what we choose to do with it; the questions we consider worth asking, the work we commit to, and the things we leave behind when the projects are finished, and the noise has gone, replaced by a poignant silence.

That thought feels especially relevant this week, as Arrow Gate Publishing will release a new edition of The Impossible President on Tuesday 20 October. The novel was first published in Nigeria in 2002 and republished in Abuja in 2004. More than two decades later, it is finally being published for readers in the United Kingdom and internationally.

Yes, I’m writing it twice now. The Impossible President comes out on Tuesday, 20 October. I’m excited, and a little emotional, if I’m honest. Twenty-four years ago, I wrote this book in Nigeria. Next week it will be published in the country where I now live, love, teach and conduct my research. As someone whose life has been shaped by both Nigeria and Britain, I find myself thinking about that journey more than I expected.

Signing the early readers’ review today. Already posted!

I have lived with this book for a long time. It has a story behind it, and it’s linked to my PhD research. Perhaps that is why seeing it take on a new life feels different from publishing something entirely new. A new book arrives with possibility. An older book returns, carrying its history. It reminds you where you were when you wrote it, what concerned you then, and which questions seemed important enough to spend years on.

The question at the centre of The Impossible President was simple – what would it take for a woman to become president of Nigeria? And I’m not talking about it in theory, or symbolically, or because a speechwriter thought it would make a good campaign slogan.

What would it actually take?

Nigeria celebrated sixty-six years of independence on 1 October. Over those sixty-six years, no woman has served as president or vice president. That fact stayed with me when I first wrote the novel and still does today. I once asked my mum why, and she gave a short laugh and said, “Men are always afraid of a strong woman.” What she said was debatable, but it may have some truth.

This brings me to this year’s Black History Month theme in the United Kingdom: Honouring Our Communities. I have repeatedly returned to the relationship between history and visibility. Communities are not built by famous people alone. They are sustained by countless others whose names seldom appear in public records. Teachers, campaigners, carers, organisers, checkout operators, and community leaders often leave behind profound legacies while receiving very little recognition beyond the circles directly affected by their work.

My doctoral research at London Metropolitan University focuses on women of the ancient Benin Kingdom. I have immersed myself in the stories of women whose economic and cultural influence was significant, and whose presence in historical records is often fragmented or incomplete. The evidence is there, but their stories are frequently overshadowed by the men who occupy centre stage. Research changes how you see things; perspectives are fluid and constantly evolving, and I now see things differently. Once you begin noticing who has been omitted from historical narratives, you begin to notice absences elsewhere too.

Many years ago, I became increasingly aware of accounts of young women from Edo State (Nigeria) being trafficked through routes that led to Italy. At the same time, Chief Mrs Amina Titi Atiku Abubakar and her organisation, WOTCLEF, helped force the issue into Nigeria’s national consciousness. Their work helped create NAPTIP in 2003, giving Nigeria a federal agency dedicated to combating human trafficking. I dedicated The Impossible President to her because I believed then, and still believe now, that some of the most important changes in society happen because individuals decide that something unacceptable can no longer be ignored.

Tinuke, the novel’s protagonist, is not a real person, but she did not emerge from nowhere. She was shaped by the many women whose stories I encountered, by women whose achievements have been documented and by women whose contributions survive only in memory. Like all fictional characters, she is an invention. Unlike many fictional characters, however, she was built from realities that already existed.

What continues to interest me is that the question posed by the novel is not uniquely Nigerian. According to figures published by UN Women and the Inter-Parliamentary Union, only 28 countries in the world are currently led by a woman head of state or government, while more than one hundred have never had one. In Africa, only two countries currently have a woman president. Nigeria is not unusual in waiting for that milestone. It is simply one of many nations still waiting. The United States has never had a woman president either.

For that reason, the novel feels no less relevant now than it did when it first appeared.

Readers approaching The Impossible President as a thriller will find political manoeuvring, betrayals, corruption, violence, ambition and people willing to sacrifice almost anything to retain power. Those elements are certainly there. What interested me most as a writer, however, was the question underneath the plot: who is considered fit to lead, who gets shut out, and what happens when someone refuses to accept those limitations?

Sam Martin described the novel as “fierce, authentic, unforgettable”. Abbie Headon called it “a powerful and action-packed story of love, courage, and endurance”. I am grateful to both of them for reading the book so generously.

I am equally grateful to all of you who have continued to read this blog over the years. Some of you have been here since the early days; I started blogging in 2012, and I have made thousands of friends all around the world. While others arrived more recently. Either way, thank you for staying with me. I’ll visit and read more of your articles whenever I can.

The Impossible President is published on Tuesday, 20 October, by Arrow Gate Publishing. If the questions raised here interest you, I hope you will read it and tell me what you think. If you’re interested in a PDF, a proof copy, or the paperback, please let me know. If you do read it, please leave a review when you can.

You can preorder here: Arrow Gate Stores, Amazon UK, Waterstones, Bookshop.org and wherever books are sold.

Stay safe wherever you are in the world, and much love, always! 🙂

A Touch of Redemption

Jesus is Alive!

Last Thursday, I went for a routine blood test, which has always been challenging due to my very small veins. I was directed from one department to another until finally reaching the blood collection area where many patients were waiting. Despite my upcoming elective procedure on Monday requiring these results, I still needed to wait my turn.

Jesus Shed His Blood For Us

When my time came, the phlebotomist struggled as expected. In a final attempt, she asked me to stretch out both hands, successfully drawing blood from each—though it was quite painful. This experience sparked a profound thought: the discomfort in my hands reminded me of Christ’s crucifixion, though my momentary pain was insignificant compared to His suffering.

What makes this reflection especially meaningful is the Easter season we’re celebrating today! Jesus didn’t remain on that cross or in the tomb—He conquered death and rose again! As the Scripture beautifully declares, “He is not here; he has risen, just as he said,” (Matthew 28:6).

This resurrection isn’t just a historical event but offers hope to everyone. The promise that “because I live, you also will live” (John 14:19) transcends religious boundaries, inviting all to consider what new beginnings might be possible in their lives.

Whether you share my faith in Christ Jesus or not, Easter’s themes of renewal, hope, and perseverance through suffering speak to the universal human experience. Even from small moments of discomfort can come beautiful reflections on life’s deeper meaning.

May we all find moments of peace, renewal and joy during this season!

Happy Easter my friends!

Much love, always!💞😊

The True Spirit of Christmas: A time for Gratitude and Reflection

As I pause on this Christmas Eve, my heart turns to the true essence of this sacred celebration – the miraculous birth of Jesus Christ. Beyond the wrapped presents and twinkling lights, I’m reminded that the greatest gift ever given wasn’t placed under a tree but in a humble manger in Bethlehem.

Looking back over this year’s journey, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude. Each morning I could rise, and work was a blessing. Every moment of peace in a turbulent world was a gift. The warmth of family gatherings, the laughter shared with friends, the simple joy of good health—these precious gifts have filled my days with grace and meaning.

My heart especially reaches out to those who are hurting this Christmas. I see you, dear friends, who are facing an empty chair at your table, whose loved ones have left this earthly realm this year. Your pain is real. I want you to know that while today’s sorrow feels overwhelming, I promise you that healing will come. Not to erase your memories but to transform your tears into tender remembrances of the love you shared. I miss my dad at Christmas, but I have hopes of resurrection, and that I will see him again, someday. Not in this world, but in heaven. That, is my faith.

Reflecting on that first Christmas night, I’m moved by its powerful message of hope rising from humble circumstances. Mary and Joseph, far from home, found light in their darkest hour. This reminds me—and all of us—that even in our moments of deepest sadness, we’re held in divine love’s embrace.

Whether you’re celebrating joyfully or quietly nursing a tender heart this Christmas, I invite you to join me in embracing the profound love that entered our world that holy night. In Jesus’s birth, we find our ultimate source of gratitude – the assurance that dawn always follows darkness, that love never truly ends, and that hope blooms eternal in even the coldest seasons of our lives.

As I bow my head in prayer today, I’m thankful not just for the blessings I can count but for the limitless love that counts us all worthy, that’s our pain, celebrates our joy, and promises us that better days lie ahead. This is the true spirit of Christmas – a love that transforms, heals, and makes all things new.

Merry Christmas my dear friends, and to those who don’t celebrate, have a fabulous and relaxing holiday. See you in 2025!

Much love, always! 🙂

Victory Over Death!

When I think about Jesus, I feel joy, appreciation for His sacrifice, and overwhelming relief that my life is free from the clutches of sin and shame. Christ paid the ultimate price for me and everyone who believes in Him. He translated my earthly being into a spiritual and heaven-bound believer.

What an overwhelming victory!

Death could not hold Him. Propelled by love, Christ went down to hell and defeated the enemy of our souls. As we enter into the Easter season, I am drawing inspiration from the timeless wisdom of Scripture, which illuminates the significance of Jesus Christ’s death and resurrection for humanity:

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” 

John 3:16

“He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay.”

Matthew 28:6

The resurrection of Jesus Christ is the ultimate triumph over sin and death, signalling the promise of new life for all who believe in Him.

“He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed.”

1 Peter 2:24

This Easter, let us reflect on these powerful truths and rejoice in the hope and redemption that Christ’s death and resurrection bring. May our hearts be filled with gratitude and our spirits renewed as we celebrate the victory of our risen Saviour.

Happy Easter! 🙏🌷✨

Love’s Essence from Two Hands

My daughter wrote the poem below on my birthday, and she gave me the permission to share it. If only we have love in the world, we will dance on the streets rather than raining bombs on ourselves. Our souls will have dwelled in safety, not fear.

I hope you’ll all enjoy reading the heartfelt love from a daughter to her mother.

Two Hands

Strong and Firm

Cupping and moulding a shape.

Spreading out a piece of Eternity

Your love, more priceless than

Moonbeams, and fickle dreams

And troubles that dissolve

In times steady pace

Providing a sense of security

Two Hands

That cup my face.

Providing an unexplainable

Yet undeniable sense of place

Apparent in shape and constitution, and beauty

Two Hands with concrete

And resolute wisdom

Pointing beyond the Earth’s clouds

To the Author and Finisher of our Faith

Pointing and providing

Undeniable direction and words of gold from your breath

Though my human and 

Simultaneous half girlish and half grown.

Nature may blindside those hands.

You wait, arms and hands outstretched.

Hold within those hands

The love that moulded me

The love and the piece that was.

With you, becomes a part of me.

Resolute and strong, beckoning

Me forth with those Two Hands

Two Hands that lead mine to 

The right path, advising, adjusting.

And teaching to pursue beyond

This world

In your embrace, my visage is filled with your warmth.

A cover provided, and obstructing the view.

Of deep and embedded scars of effort

And experience within your

Two Hands

And so, with my own Two Hands, connecting.

Extending out from my arms

I trace the scars.

Interlock fingers and once again

We embrace, but from I to you.

I love you ❤

As I read the poem again, my heart flush with pride and love for my daughter but it was quickly dampened by the wars raging around us. As the world rabbles with overwhelming hatred, I pray and hope we’ll find a way to truly love each other, eschew war, and our world will prosper.

Thanks for reading dear friends and please, stay safe, wherever you are in the world.

Much love, always! 🙂

The Paradox of the Human Heart

Today marks the 18th anniversary of the London transport bombings, which caused the death of 52 people and numerous injuries. Here in Europe, we’re still watching the carnage unleashed on Ukrainians when Russia invaded their country, killing thousands of innocent people and inflicting untold suffering on both sides. I’ve lost count of the mass shootings in the US this year. Here in the UK, we’re grappling with knife crimes, young lives snuffed out at regular intervals. Then today, I read about an Ohia man, Chad Doerman, who executed his three young sons, allowing the mother to witness the heinous crime. He would probably claim insanity, which brings me to the complexity inherent in the human heart.

The human heart, both anatomically and metaphorically, has long captivated our imaginations. The heart is a fascinating organ that sustains life and influences emotions and actions. While the heart is often associated with kindness, love, and compassion, it can also exhibit darker aspects of human nature. Today I want to explore the duality of the human heart, highlighting its potential for both wickedness and kindness.

The Wickedness of the Human Heart:

Human history is replete with tales of cruelty, violence, and malevolence that originate from the depths of the human heart. Suffering and pain can be caused by actions stemming from evil thoughts in the heart. The seeds of wickedness can grow within and sprout as greed, envy, hatred, or revenge. The book of Jeremiah from the Bible echoes this message.

“The human heart is the most deceitful of all things and desperately wicked. Who really knows how bad it is? But I, the LORD, search all and examine secret motives. I give all people their due rewards, according to what their actions deserve.”

Jeremiah 17: 9-10

Selfishness and wrong beliefs have caused terrible acts throughout history. Some of the darkest moments in history have been centred around the human heart, including wars, genocides, violence, and oppression. It’s a reminder of the capacity for evil that lives within us.

 The Kindness of the Human Heart:

However, amidst the wickedness, the human heart is also capable of immense kindness and compassion. It’s the source of love, empathy, and altruism that can lead to acts of selflessness and generosity. The heart encourages kindness and support towards others.

Comforting friends, helping strangers, and donating to charity are simple acts of kindness. It’s also evident in the tireless work of individuals and organisations that strive to address social injustices, fight for equality, and improve the well-being of others. The human heart, when guided by empathy and compassion, has the potential to create positive change and heal wounds.

The Balance of the Human Heart:

Human hearts contain a mix of both wickedness and kindness. Everyone has the potential for both good and evil, and their choices shape their path. Our hearts is not a static entity. It can evolve and transform over time, influenced by experiences, education, and personal growth. Acknowledging both wickedness and kindness within ourselves helps us understand our humanity and strive to cultivate a kind heart while rejecting wickedness.

The human heart is a complex entity that harbours both wickedness and kindness. It holds the capacity for great evil and the power to generate immense love and compassion. Reflecting on our actions helps us understand this paradox. By doing so, we can work towards creating a world that celebrates the inherent goodness within us and endeavours to minimise the wickedness that can sometimes arise.

The paradox of the human heart reminds us that our emotional experiences are complex, nuanced, and multifaceted. It encapsulates the simultaneous capacity for immense strength and vulnerability, guiding us to navigate the depths of our emotions with self-awareness and compassion. By embracing this paradox, we can achieve a more profound understanding of ourselves and others, resulting in a richer, more fulfilling human experience.

In our corners of the world, let’s make our world a better place!

TIME

*Please visit my new website:

https://ssdfilms.wordpress.com/

It is packed with unseen footage of my new documentary ‘Chasing Humans’, I am also using the website for one of my Master’s degree course. I would be publishing new articles on it today and every fortnight. I would also appreciate any comment and discussion on the blog.*

Thank you, guys! 🙂

Artist John Seymour Lucas 1849-1923. Dated 1885

 

The world is still reeling from the effects of Coronavirus, here in the UK, we have the second-highest number of deaths in the world. It’s nothing to be proud of, it is heart-wrenching. I know a few people who have been affected by the passing of a loved one, believe me, it is not a good place to be.

Life is beautiful and challenging at the same time. When my dad passed away, I thought the world has come to an end, and when my family and friends consoled me with the fact that, time is a great healer, I didn’t believe them.

Is time really a healer? How do we tell the thousands of people who have lost loved ones that time heals? In my experience, time doesn’t stop the pain, even time cannot replace a loved one. Time can only give you the space to grieve and come to terms with their passing.

I think of my dad every day, just like that painting of the artist John Seymour Lucas, we can never replace time lost. It’s gone forever. However, we can cherish the memories, and hold them dear to our hearts.

As I was rummaging through the cellar today and found this precious painting of the artist Seymour Lucas, so we can check through our memories and find treasures of loved ones, who have been locked safely away bursting forth in our hearts. We can recapture times of joy, of laughter permeating through the fog of sadness, shining gloriously through the tears and sorrow.

TIME doesn’t heal, it helps us in our moment of weakness, to reclaim everything we hold dear.

Much love, always! 🙂

Looking Through Heaven’s Eyes

 

I love the story of redemption. The ability to be able to start again, rebuild and succeed appeals to me immensely.

And that’s what heaven did through Jesus’s crucifixion on the cross. No matter how bad we’ve erred the fact that there is redemption means heaven is looking at our frailty through the eyes of grace.

I am a product of heaven’s grace through the redemptive power of Jesus, and I am proud of that.

 

I leave you with this song from the Prince of Egypt ‘Through Heaven’s Eyes,’ it blesses my soul. Have a fabulous week ahead, friends!

Much love, always!

🙂 🙂

Chasing Humans: A Poetic Film

”Human life is as evanescent as the morning dew or a flash of lightning.’‘ – Samuel Butler. I agree because life and love is a journey. Find out more in this short documentary I wrote and directed with a friend.

 

Here’s a transcript of the film:

Life is a journey, and it starts with a cry… the cry of a new-born baby. It ends with moans, groans, or the contented sigh of an older man or woman who’s led a fruitful life.

Or it can end in running feet, a chase, a stab, searing pain, blood splattered on the sidewalk, the cold street receding away as a young life flitter away into nothingness…

A life cut short…

Humans are chasing humans and killing without thought or regard for the pains inflicted on unfamiliar people.

Life can end well, or, it may end in tragedy.

Twenty years ago, I got married to the man of my dreams, and two years later, I was in the hospital, in labour, and anticipating the birth of my son.

It was a complicated process. A short life, my son passed away two days after he was born.

My life stopped briefly.

I didn’t know how to process my grief. I cried every night, and I prayed every night.

Days passed. Time didn’t wait for my grief. And I healed with the love of my husband and family.

Three months later, there was a miracle.

I was pregnant again. This time, everything felt different, but I was hiding my fears. I smiled openly while I cried and cringed inside, wondering if the new life growing inside me would live, and survive.

Nine months later, I welcomed another son.
He lives. He’s kind and makes me laugh. He’s energetic and loves life. I had two more children, a daughter and another son.

My family means everything to me.

But something is wrong.

I’ve lived in London for over fifteen years, and every time there’s a young life wasted on the streets, I remember the child I lost.

Although my son died as a new-born baby and in different circumstances, I relive the pain every time I read or watch the news of another senseless killing of young people on our streets.

My eldest son is now 17. He’s brilliant and hardworking. He had one of the best GCSE results in his school, and he’s currently studying Medicine at A levels. He wants to be a doctor. Samuel wants to help and make our society a better place for everyone.

But should I be afraid anytime he’s out of the house? Or because of the colour of his skin?

Can I have hope that things will improve, and that love may conquer hatred, racism, anger and the ugliness inherent in the human soul?

My son believes in a better society, a better world.

Rafael Benedetti wants the world to see goodness in him. Fay Beneddeti intends to champion the course of women and family. These people are keen to see positive changes in our society.

Maybe, there is hope Afterall.

I won’t be afraid anymore.

Hope, no matter how fleeting is still better than fear.

Loving humans can be a reality while chasing humans could become a myth.

I hope love wins!

I want life to end well for our young people.

Let’s start from the beginning.

Seyi Sandra David.