It’s been a while since I sat down to write something just for the sake of sharing what’s been going on — and that’s what today’s post is. A little life update, a little check-in, and a soft beginning to something new.

Lately, I’ve been feeling a bit overwhelmed about the next step in my blogging journey. I recently cleared out my drafts — a fresh start — so I can begin a new wave of posts. It’s exciting, and honestly, a little scary too. I’ve been wondering: Will you like the new content? Will it still connect the way it used to?

At the same time, I’ve also been thinking (and overthinking) about something else that’s been on my heart — my business, Ngumi’s.
It’s been a while since I ran it actively, and though I’ve been wanting to restart, I keep getting stuck on the what-ifs.
What if I don’t sell? What if it’s not received well?
I know these feelings are normal, especially after a pause, but they’ve been sitting heavy on me and slowing me down more than I’d like.

But this is me pushing through it — even just by writing this post.
This is the first post in the new rhythm I’m creating for this blog.
Like I mentioned in an earlier post, I’m going back to how we used to blog a few years ago — when we simply wrote from the heart, shared our lives as they were, and connected through the little things.

This space is returning to that — a blend of lifestyle and life lessons.
Content that feels like a chat with a friend. Sometimes entertaining, sometimes helpful. Sometimes soft and reflective. Other times, just vibes and a recipe. Because I know that’s how we really consume content — to learn, to feel seen, or to simply escape and breathe.

So here’s to a new week.
I’m hoping for less overwhelm, more flow, and the courage to start again — with blogging, with business, and with everything else in between.

Wherever you are, I hope your week feels kind to you.
Sending softness your way 🌸

Love,
Ngumabi

Things I’ve Learned From Moving Multiple Times

I’ve moved several times over the past few years. Not because I love the process—it’s stressful, emotional, and exhausting—but because life has taken me through different seasons that required different spaces. Some moves were planned. Some were forced. Some were healing. Others were freeing. But every move taught me something new about life, independence, and myself.

Looking back, I now realize every move carries its own story. And no two moves are ever the same.

Here are some of the things I’ve learned through all my moves—and maybe, if you’re going through a change or considering one, this will help you make sense of your own journey too.

1. The Reason You Move Shapes the Way You Feel

Each move comes with its own emotion. I’ve moved out of survival, I’ve moved out of freedom, I’ve moved out of exhaustion, and I’ve moved out of hope.

Leaving the apartment I shared with my ex was painful but necessary. That move came with fear, urgency, and heartbreak—but also courage. The apartment I moved into next became a refuge. It saw me cry, heal, scream, hope again, and rebuild my confidence after everything I lost in that relationship.

Now, moving out of that healing apartment felt completely different. It wasn’t about escaping anymore—it was about growth. The mold on the walls, the noise from the road, and the discomfort of the space made it hard to stay, even though a part of me was emotionally attached to the history within those walls.

I’ve learned not to expect every move to feel the same. Sometimes you’ll feel relieved. Sometimes you’ll cry more than you expected. And both are okay.

2. Some Homes Are Meant for a Season—And That’s Okay

I used to believe that once I found a place, I would stay there for five years minimum. I longed for that kind of stability. And I still do. But reality has shown me that some spaces are not meant to be permanent—they are meant to carry you through a certain phase of your life.

Maybe they’re not perfect. Maybe they’re temporary. But they hold you when you need them most. They serve a purpose. And when that purpose is fulfilled, it’s okay to let go.

The house that sheltered your healing may not be the one that sees your flourishing. It’s not a failure—it’s a shift.

3. Moving Out Is Not Just a Physical Act—It’s an Emotional One

When you’ve cried in a room, laughed in a kitchen, prayed in a corner, or danced in your living room, it becomes more than just a building. That space starts to hold pieces of your story.

And when it’s time to go, it can feel like you’re leaving behind a version of yourself. I felt this deeply in my recent move. I wasn’t just saying goodbye to an apartment—I was saying goodbye to the woman who first entered it two years ago, broken and afraid. And I was proud of the woman who was walking out—healed, stronger, and more grounded.

So don’t be surprised if you feel heavy when leaving a space. Closure is not only for relationships—it’s also for homes that held you.

4. You Will Lose Things—And That’s Part of the Journey

Each time I move, I lose something. Sometimes it’s physical—plates, clothes, or a piece of furniture that just doesn’t fit anymore. But other times, it’s emotional. I lose attachments, old habits, or outdated versions of myself.

Some things I thought I couldn’t live without suddenly have no place in my new home. And other things I never valued before become precious.

Moving teaches you about what truly matters.
What’s useful, what’s clutter, and what needs to be released.

5. The Next Place Is a Blank Canvas—Let Yourself Explore It

Here’s the thing about moving into a new home: no matter how ready or excited you are, you don’t really know what it will feel like until you live in it.

Every new apartment or house comes with a fresh energy, and you get to define what that energy becomes. You’re not just arranging furniture—you’re planting seeds for a new season.

You won’t have all the answers on day one. And that’s okay. Let yourself settle slowly. Let the space grow on you. Let it reflect who you are now, not who you used to be.

6. Moving Teaches You About Yourself

With every move, I’ve learned to listen to myself more. To recognize when I’m forcing something. To trust when I feel peace. To let go even when I don’t have a full plan.

I’ve learned that I value quiet. Privacy. Light. View. Safety. I’ve learned that I want to live where I can hear birds in the morning, not cars honking at dawn.

I’ve also learned that I can do hard things. That I’m resourceful, that I can ask for help, and that I can rebuild from scratch—again and again, if I need to.

7. You’re Allowed to Feel It All

The mix of emotions during a move is real. Relief. Anxiety. Excitement. Nostalgia. Even fear. Don’t feel guilty for being emotional. And don’t rush to feel “settled” right away.

Take your time.
Feel the sadness of leaving, and the hope of entering.
Honor your process.

Let Every Move Be a Milestone, Not Just a Moment

If you’ve moved a lot like I have, you may feel tired. You may long for roots. But you can also see it as proof of how far you’ve come. Each move marks a shift in your journey, a moment when you chose to take action—either to survive, to heal, or to grow.

Let each move remind you that you are still in motion. That life is unfolding. That you’re not stuck. And that every time you move, you get closer to becoming the woman you were always meant to be.

So here’s to the places that held us.
Here’s to the ones we outgrew.
And here’s to the ones still waiting to be filled with laughter, light, and new beginnings.

If you’ve moved homes more than once in your life, then you probably know no two moves are the same.

Sometimes we move because we have to. Other times, because we want to. And then there are those moments—like mine—when a move is both sudden and deeply symbolic.

A few weeks ago, I moved into a new apartment in Yaoundé. It wasn’t something I had planned for that specific month, but deep down, I had been preparing myself for it. There had been signs for months: the growing discomfort in my old space, the mold creeping through the walls from unfinished construction, and the noise from the road just outside my window. But it wasn’t just the building. I had simply outgrown the space, emotionally and mentally.

The Apartment That Carried My Healing

Before this new place, I lived in what I often called my “refuge apartment.” It was the space I moved into after leaving a toxic relationship—a place that represented safety and survival. That apartment saw me through some of my darkest days.

There were tears, regret-filled nights, moments of complete numbness, and early mornings when all I had was faith and determination. There were heated phone calls, days of silence, bursts of courage, shame, and those proud, quiet victories when I could finally smile again at my own reflection.

So even though the walls were starting to leak and mold, and even though I knew I needed better, saying goodbye wasn’t as easy as I expected.

Letting Go Was Harder Than I Thought

Letting go of a space that held your worst and best moments can be deeply emotional. That apartment gave me warmth, comfort, and room to rebuild when I needed it the most. It was never perfect, but it served its purpose. It was my cocoon, and walking away from it felt like shedding old skin. Necessary, but bittersweet.

I realised something important:

We don’t just leave buildings. We leave behind stories, chapters, and versions of ourselves.

Every Move Comes With a Lesson

Over the years—and especially with this recent move—I’ve learned a lot about apartment hunting in Yaoundé. Things like:

• Always vet the neighbourhood first: proximity to the road is good, but too much noise can wear you down.

• Watch out for unfinished buildings—they can bring long-term issues like water leaking into walls and mold.

• Know your non-negotiables: A big kitchen? Natural light? Calm environment? Don’t compromise on the things that truly matter to your peace.

• Some houses fit a season in your life, not a lifetime. And that’s okay.

This time, I knew I needed a calmer space, better light, and a neighbourhood with more peace. I had to stretch myself to find it in a short time, but thank God, I did.

Stepping Into the Unknown With Faith

The first few nights in my new place felt surreal. It was quieter. I could hear birds in the morning—something I hadn’t experienced in a long time. It felt unfamiliar, but right.

I’ve started a new morning routine here—slow, peaceful, and intentional. I wake up feeling more centered, more present. It’s as though the space is inviting me into a new version of myself: softer, surer, ready.

I’ve also started looking at the things I brought with me differently. Some items no longer fit the new space or season of my life, and that’s okay too. You realize that in every move, you’ll lose a few things, gain a few, and repurpose others, just like in life.

My Favourite Things About My New Apartment

I haven’t done a full tour yet (but it’s coming soon on the blog and YouTube!), but I can already tell you what I love:

• The view. It's not grand, but it brings calm.

• The privacy. There are no shops in the compound this time—just peace and quiet.

• The sense of "new". The feeling that I get to recreate myself again here.

Growth Happens in Transitions

This move reminded me that growth isn’t always loud or dramatic. Sometimes, it’s in the quiet act of leaving a place that once held your broken pieces and walking into a new space with hope, even when you're unsure.

If you’re in a season of transition, moving homes, or just thinking of starting over in any way, I want to tell you this:

Every move teaches you something. Every space leaves a mark. And every new place gives you the chance to start again—with more wisdom, more clarity, and more strength.

Thanks for being part of my journey. I’ll share more soon—about setting up, creating routines, decorating on a budget, and finding beauty in the everyday.

Until then, here’s to new beginnings, healing walls, and homes that reflect the best version of who we are becoming.

Finding Rhythm in a New Space

   

Life update from the new apartment

It’s been a few weeks since we moved, and life has been slowly settling into a new rhythm. Not perfect. Not structured. But soft and present.

Most of the unpacking is done, and the apartment is beginning to feel like us. The only space still holding a bit of chaos is the room I plan to use as my office. The things are in there, but the organisation? We’re not there yet. And that’s okay. One thing at a time.

Honestly, adjusting to a new environment takes more energy than I remember. I’ve been trying to get consistent with work, but many days, I’m tired. Some days, just getting through the house chores is enough to leave me feeling drained. There’s been a strong desire to rest, and I’m learning to honour that without guilt. My body knows when it’s time to pause.

But even in this quiet season, life has been happening gently and beautifully.

My plants are doing so well. Some that had been living in water finally got potted, and my snake plant even made babies! The joy I felt when I saw that tiny bud growing at the side of the plant, I can’t even explain. It was the most ordinary magic. A reminder that growth always finds its way, even in new soil.

I’ve filmed two YouTube videos since moving in, and while I’ve definitely been filming less, I understand why. There’s something sacred about simply being in the moment without interrupting it to create content. I’ve allowed myself that, and now I’m slowly picking the rhythm back up again. I’m editing a new video and getting excited about creating again, but this time, with more presence and less pressure.

I’ve also returned to making conscious efforts toward weight loss like intermittent fasting, moving my body, and being intentional again. It feels good to be reclaiming that part of myself, softly and sustainably.

And of course, the kitchen! I’ve baked twice already in this new house, and the cakes turned out so beautifully. Baking feels like home to me, and this new kitchen is already holding sweet memories. I’ve also started sharing our house-hunting journey in Yaoundé on my blog and social media, and I’ll be posting more updates on that this month.

There’s still so much to do. So much to figure out. But I’m giving myself permission to ease into it. Not everything has to happen at once. And sometimes, simply showing up, living, resting, and celebrating tiny wins like snake plant babies and well-baked cakes—is more than enough.

Here’s to new spaces, new rhythms, and the gentle days after a big change. 💛

Watch my latest video showing a glimpse of life lately where I also show you how I budget and loss e competition. 

 #ᴊᴜɴᴇᴅᴜᴍᴘ 2025 | Ngumabi 

I’ve moved several times within Yaoundé in the past few years. Some moves were for healing, others were for peace, others were out of necessity. But each time, I’ve learned something new about the apartment hunt in this city—and today I want to share those lessons with you.

Here’s what to consider, avoid, and stay aware of when apartment hunting in Yaoundé:

Apartment Hunting in Yaoundé: What to Expect and What to Avoid —Lessons from my personal experience

1. Start with the Right Neighbourhood for YOU

Before even stepping into any apartment, ask yourself what you want your life to look like—not just your living room.

Think about:

• Proximity to work or school

• Access to the main road or transportation

• Availability of essential services like water, electricity, hospitals, markets, and shops

• Calmness vs. activity (do you love quiet or prefer some daily buzz?)

Every neighbourhood in Yaoundé has its own energy and level of development. Some are very residential and calm; others are lively but noisy. Some areas are great for access but prone to issues like flooding or blackouts. Know what matters to you first.

2. Know Your Apartment Criteria (Negotiables & Non-Negotiables)

When you’re house-hunting, you won’t always get everything you want, but knowing your priorities helps you avoid disappointment or discomfort later.

Some examples to reflect on:

• Do you want a spacious kitchen because you cook a lot and own many utensils?

• Is natural light important to you?

• Do you want a balcony or outside space?

• Can you compromise on a smaller bedroom if the living room is big enough?

• Do you prefer modern fittings?

Having a clear list of what you must have vs. what you can manage without will help you make better and quick decisions, especially when under pressure.

3. Understand That What You Want May Not Fully Exist

This one might sound a little contradictory, but it’s real. Yaoundé is a mix of old and new construction styles. Older neighborhoods often have buildings that were built decades ago, with older standards in terms of layout, finishes, or aesthetics.

In newer or upcoming neighbourhoods—usually on the outskirts—you’ll find more modern features like:

• Spacious kitchens and bathrooms

• Bigger windows

• Better tiles and paintwork

• Improved room configurations

However, these places may be farther from the city center, more expensive, or less developed in terms of access roads and public services. And if you find a modern house in an older neighbourhood, it often comes with a higher price tag.

Moral of the story: Stay open-minded, flexible, and ready to compromise on the less essential things.

4. Vet the Neighbourhood Thoroughly

One of the most underrated yet important aspects of house hunting in Yaoundé is evaluating the environment surrounding the apartment, not just the building.

Here’s what to look out for:

• Flood risk: Yaoundé is a hilly city. Areas near valleys are more prone to floods. Avoid houses in low-lying zones, especially during rainy seasons.

• Electricity & water reliability: Some areas experience more power cuts, others have more water shortages. Ask the neighbours what’s common.

• Noise & security: Visit during the day and in the evening. Some areas are quiet by day but noisy at night due to nearby bars or clubs.

• Safety: Avoid suspicious areas or compounds. Check if the neighbourhood has a security presence (some areas near top officials’ homes are better protected).

And if you can, walk around the neighbourhood. Observe the people, the traffic, and the atmosphere. Can you see yourself living there? Do you feel at peace?

5. Do a Careful Check of the Building Itself

Some things I’ve learned the hard way:

• Uncompleted buildings may have construction issues like water leaking into the walls, which leads to mold and dampness (and even health problems).

• Buildings that look good at first glance may still have structural or plumbing issues. Inspect carefully—especially during rainy season.

• If the landlord lives in the same compound, get as much information as you can. If they’re the “monitor everything you do” type, life may get uncomfortable.

Talk to tenants if you can. Ask questions like:

• How often do they fix things?

• How are electricity and water bills partitioned? Are there individual meters?

• What’s the landlord like?

• Do they increase rent suddenly?

Also, read your contract carefully and ask for clarification if something doesn’t sit right with you.

6. Accessibility and Social Amenities

Your new home should not feel like a trap or an isolated island, except you have a car for easy transportation.

Basic services you should look for nearby:

• Provision store (for bread, sugar, milk, toilet paper, oil, etc.)

• Pharmacy or clinic

• Market or food stalls (even small ones)

• Transport options (bike, taxi, junctions)

If your house is inside an interior zone where you need to take a bike or walk a distance to the main road, and it’s a quiet or isolated area, I strongly recommend this:

Get the contact of a trustworthy bike rider or taxi driver who works around your neighbourhood. Call them when transport is scarce, or when you need to get out early/late. It makes it easy for you to go out and come in easily and faster when you don't get a bike/taxi at the time you are going out or coming in.

7. Every Move Teaches You Something

The more I move, the more I learn. I’ve learned to be realistic. I’ve learned not to rush when I have time. And I’ve also learned that sometimes, no matter how much you plan, the right apartment only shows up when it’s time.

So give yourself grace. Don’t feel pressured to find “the perfect place.” Focus on finding a safe, livable, and peaceful environment that matches your needs as best as possible.

House hunting in Yaoundé isn’t always easy, but with the right mindset, preparation, and awareness, you can avoid many of the common pitfalls. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, walk around, or even say no if something feels off.

And most importantly, remember that your home should give you peace. That’s worth waiting for and searching for, except you don't have much time to find the best place.