Je Te Pardonne (I Forgive You)

A wise man once told me something a few years back. I was between the age of eleven to thirteen years old. Before I tell you what he said, please make sure you are not eating, about to eat or just finished eating. If you are, just leave this and read later when you are sure you will not puke and blame me for it. However, if you are sure you are good to go, then please read on! PS: I have translated the French picture quotes you will see later on, right under the pictures.

He said, “Atönö uduañ mben ökpö usuñ, ndijine isifreke.” (That is in Efik language)

It literary means, “a person defecates (or poops, whichever one you prefer🙊) by the way side, the one that steps on it (barefoot) does not forget.

It did not sound so bad until he elaborated. He told me to imagine a very hedieous, disgusting poop on the floor which might still be fresh (feel free to scream “eww” or “nyama” like we say in some part of Lagos😂). Then he said, assume you were somewhere on the beach where you were walking happily until you felt something hot beneath your foot. Not knowing what it is, you look down to find out.

The surprise makes you loose your balance and you slip and fall on the poop, hands first (now there is no more doubt that your discovery is definitely from a human). To further ruin your day, the lethal stench invades your whole being as passers by stare at you.

(👆i edited it as best as i can to make it less…….unpleasant without altering the main point).

These are my thoughts; Anger, embarrassment and some other emotions would push you to flee the scene. Days will pass and the memory will still make you cringe. Some might stay away from that particular place for a while, even when the audience had long forgotten the incident. Some would pour out everlasting curses on the owner of the poop. While the perpetrator has no idea that he(or she) caused you distress, and if he does, he’ll forget it soon because it did not affect the person in anyway. Relate that scenario to life in general.

When you are offended but the offender has no clue or feel the gravity of the offense like you do. Forgiving becomes very challenging, but we must, right?

Je Te Pardonne (I forgive you)

Forgiving is easy, relatively
But forget, scarcely
It has never been by choice
The memory goes silent but comes back with a loud voice

Soft whispers lures in the chaos of ages past.
A smile today will trigger tears of yesterday.
It does not mean I have not forgiven
but I cannot erase this memory I was given.
Some say it is a blessing, life’s very own lesson

You drop the act and your deed is done,
While I’m left on the stove to burn
I see the scene every time I hear your name
I hear the action!, making me go insane

I feel the suspense,
Again, the plot begins to make sense
I feel the spotlight through my closed eyes

you made many promises, but they were all lies

“I forgive you but I have not forgotten”

“I forgive you, you know not what you have done.”

I did not need a car to drive me to the edge.
Your words did, your actions,
little gestures that meant nothing to you but kept me up at night.

“I forgive you, you do not see right from wrong.

You did the act but I live with the memory
Shattered from inside, counting down until the outside falls off
You do not even remember,
Yet I cannot forget.

“I forgive you, now it’s time for me to move on.”

Whether things fall apart or not,
just know that I forgive you,
as I must.

“I forgive you not because you deserve it, but because I deserve peace”

Thank you for reading💖. I leave you with this; remember to let go, for your peace sake.

If you can tolerate French for a bit then click here to check out this song! There is a bit of English in it too.

Leave a comment, I want to know what you think!(I’m keeping my fingers crossed that you’ll fall in love with French like I have and hopefully, it will love us back😋.

My First Blogger Nomination!!!

Do not scream, I already did that for us. So just smile and do a weird happy dance😂.

I have only been here for a short while so you must understand how shocked I was when I discovered that Reni Alugo’s blog nominated me for the Vincent Ehindero blogger award! Reni got nominated by Ria’s haven before she nominated me.

Reni is an amazing person. She is one of the few people that I know here and she has been really supportive and encouraging. I do not know how she does not get tired of the questions I ask her in private (it seems the more I know, the more I realise that I do not know much😂). Thank you for nominating me Reni and for being an awesome person💖. I also thank Vincent Ehindero for creating the award.

So Reni has some questions for me💃.


Q: How many countries have you visited?

A: Just one, that’s Togo. I would love to see more places though, and its certainly in the plan.

Q: Where does your motivation to write/blog come from?

A: Many places! First from the whispers of my awesome God of course. Then from friends and family that support me with their great feedbacks. From Reni who has a special way of making people(especially me) smile with her words. From Mosky for pushing me to take my writing to the next level. From everyone that has ever liked or commented on my post. I could go on and on but I think you get the gist already😊.

Q: Who is your favorite writer/blogger and why?

A: *sighs dramatically* this is a very tough one you see. Everyone, at least the ones I have met, seem to have their own style (very commendable I must add). It is not easy picking a favorite so Reni would have to stand in for everyone 😘. I love her approach in her write ups, it has a different air to it. You should check them out so you will understand why I say she is awesome.

Q: What is the one thing you want to be remembered for?

A: I have always said that my aspiration is to be an inspiration. If I can only be the influence that someone out there needs to come out of somewhere dark like loneliness, sadness or any other ‘ness’ that messes with one’s sanity. Even if it is one(but I aim for more) person in the whole of my existence, that would truly be amazing!

Q: What makes a good blog?

A: I believe it is the ability to convey your message effectively to your intended audience. Every other attribute falls under this. That is just my own opinion though.

Q: What is your favorite thing about marriage?

A: 😂😂😂 You know I am not married Reni, but let me see…..well I’m not sure honestly. The companionship maybe?. Having someone that is a friend and more than a friend at the same time till death do us part. I hope this makes a little sense.

Q: Would you rather have a lot of money or a lot of good friends?

A: Good and loyal friends without a second thought. They will lead you right and money would only be a matter of time.

Q: What are 5 words that best describes you?

A: Godly, curious, childlike, assertive and deep😉.

This was fun!💃

Here are the rules👇

• Thank the person that nominated you with a link to thier blog
• Make a post of the award (with photo)
• Post the rules
• Ask 5-10 questions of your choice
• Nominate 10-30 other bloggers (or more) and notify them
• Follow Vincent Ehindero to qualify for a free blog promotion and shout out and more blogging opportunities.

My nominations are 🙈:






I am nominating you because I truly admire your contents and I hope you never stop sharing them 💪😘.

My Questions for you💃:

  1. Would you rather read a book or see a movie?
  2. What keeps you away from writing as often as you would have loved to?
  3. If you could add one thought in everyone’s mind, what would it be?
  4. Smarties or skittles, which do you prefer?
  5. What are the five words that describe you?
  6. Who is your favourite male and female character in the bible and why?(do not even say Jesus, he is taken)
  7. What do you want to be remembered for?

I am at the edge of my seat waiting for your response! Do not leave me hanging lest I fall.

Remember that I adore you and Jesus adores you more!😘

I really do not want to leave yet but I must. Let me drop this GIF for Reni and Ria’s haven.

This isn’t goodbye! I’ll be back😘.

The Fantastic Four

Four men that I have been thinking about a lot lately; one stanza for one man. Four in all for four of them.Can you guess who they are? Leave a reply below if you can name any of the four. I’ll reveal where you can find the answers on the next post so stay tuned😘.


If this road leads to the end,
we must make it worthwhile.
I’ll hold the Lion by the Jaw,
hold my head high even when my eyes are out,
Don’t let me go.

If this road ends all leads,
we must brace up,
I’ll hold my rod to the sky,
please hold my hand so we don’t die.
Don’t let me go.

If this road takes our sight,
we must listen for the voice.
I’ll find this new faith.
Hold me Baranabas, teach me, show me.
Don’t let me go.

If this sight takes us to the road,
we must tary in the temple.
I’ll see the new born baby King,
keep me alive until then.
Don’t let me go.

You might want to get your bible now😉.

The Petitioners

Pride is not welcomed in this court, only humble submissions, do you dare stand before this just judge? Well, these people dared….

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°• °•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°


When she found out she was pregnant she did not know what to feel, tears filled her eyes as she told her loving husband the wonderful news, their joy knew no bounds. Their marriage was finally going to be blessed with a child after six long years of trying and praying.

When they found out it was a girl, her husband confessed that it had been his prayer all along, “finally, another lady to collect the heart you stole from me”, he joked. She smiled. She wanted a girl too! They made plans and predictions on what their daughter would be. Wale concluded that she would be in the banking sector like him or a footballer like his younger sister, Abigail. Mofe disagreed. Her daughter would be a reporter or an editor like she was. They just joked around the topic but neither really worried about what she would become, they would support their golden girl in whatever part she chose.

Meanwhile, life was making it’s own predictions as complications came in and the unborn child’s life was threatened. They did everything they could. Her husband fasted and she prayed while the doctors did all that was in their power to do. They needed a miracle.
The day of delivery came and Leticia was born but her mother’s womb was lost. The miracle they expected did not happen, at least not how they expected.

Years rolled by and what was lost was nothing compared to what was gained. Leticia was growing up to be a wonderful young lady. She had her father’s calculative brown eyes and her mother’s glowing caramel skin. A miracle in flesh. At age ten, she was at the top of all her classes except creative art.

“The paints won’t stay on the paper mummy it always ends up on my body! Then i look like a confused rainbow”, she whined when Mofe talked to her about her dislike of the subject. The little girl hated anything that got her dirty and she constantly complained about it.

Her mother sighed, ” what do I do with you my sunshine? How do you even know what a confused rainbow looks like?”, The girl only giggled and ran off.

Little Leticia was a curious creature. She wanted to know everything. She loved nature and the one who created it. When her aunt came over one weekend to pass a night, Letticia ceased the opportunity to make her tuck her in when it was her bed time. She always said that her aunty was one of the best story tellers and it was not a lie. Abigail Damilola Johnson would do anything for her niece and the little girl knew that. They were so close that the twenty-eight year old became the sibling Leticia would never have. After aunty Dami told her the story of how Moses saw a part of God’s glory, she could not stop wishing she was there. As sleep finally began to pull her in, she whispered, “If only I could see God once, it would be so cool”. Abigail just smiled.

Whenever Leticia stared off into nothing, her mother would get worried because it was probably the begining of another round of questions. “So who gave birth to God? Who decided that i should be a girl? How do you know i am your child? Are you sure they did not switch me at the hospital? Oh! Mother we need to get a test done! Your daughter could be out there somewhere”. Her mother would be thinking of the appropriate speech to answer her questions when Letticia would suddenly laugh and say she was only joking. She enjoyed scaring her very concerned mother.

Leticia did a lot of things that many would call crazy and others would call interesting – it depends on the side of the coin you observed from. One time, she caught mosquitoes and put them in a bottle, sealed tightly. “I just want to see how long they can survive without air” She defended with an innocent smile. Her father had just discovered the bottles under her bed. He was speechless, how did she even catch it without killing it in the process? She readily explained to him.

“You just have to follow it Daddy, until it rests somewhere because it’s not easy catching it in the air. Then you cover it with your palm and make your palm into a fist then you guide it into the bottle!” Wale was awed by his little girl and also made a mental note to get insecticide, consistent spraying was necessary because Lagos mosquitoes were very stubborn. Leticia would not mind that the mosquitoes will be gone, she had the ones she needed for the ‘experiment’. Daddy promised to keep their secret away from mummy until the project was completed. She was everything daddy hoped she would be, she had his heart and she kept it all to herself.

When she turned sixteen, Leticia began to turn her mother’s sanity inside out. It started when she went for a camp and came back with red hair; red hot flaming hair. Her lovely black curls had been straightened and her mother was ready to burst into flames.
“Leticia Toluwalase Johnson, why is your head on fire?” her mother asked her in a decievingly calm voice. After reminding her mother she wanted to be called ‘Leti’ not Leticia and ‘Tolls’ instead of Toluwalase, She went further to explain how an experiment had gone wrong and the camp instructors made her come back with her battle scars as punishment.
“I was this close to making a breakthrough mummy, so close. I will not give up though, i will try it differently next time”. She said, smilling like she could already see the success of whatever experiment she was carrying out. All this while, Mofe was quiet and when she finally spoke, the happy smile disappeared from her daughter’s face.

“Come closer Leti or is it Tolls you want me to call you? Come closer so I can carry out my own experiment let’s see if I pound your head with my pestle maybe you will have more sense and stop using yourself as a lab rat!”. A few seconds of silence passed after her outburst before she sighed deeply and gave her daughter a sad smile. “You are my only child Letticia, the only one I will ever have in my life time and that doesn’t bother me because you are one in millons. Just stay alive for me okay? That’s all I ask.” Overwhelmed by her mother’s emotions, Letti nodded and squeezed her mum in a tight hug.

Mrs. Johnson constantly worried about her daughter but Tolls was daddy’s little girl and thought her mother’s worries were unnecessary. Time flew by and Leti flew to the United States of America to pursue her career in medicine. More time flew by and Leti did not fly back to Nigeria. She always had one project or experiment to complete. I’ll be back soon, she repeated every other year.
After much begging and tears from her mother, Leticia finally came back home for the Christmas holiday. Wale was happy to see his two favorite women together again. If their feminine squeals and gossips bothered him, he never said so. Devotion time became longer with Leticia’s questions; she had not changed in that aspect, in fact, the questions were more advanced. They often referred her to God for answers. Only He could deal with them.

“So who is he?” Leticia’s mother asked in-between her daughter’s speech about the coronavirus outbreak in China.
“Its not a ‘he’ mother, it’s a virus that is killing people”. She shook her head dissapprovingly like her mother was a naughty child who did not know how to listen. Mrs Johnson only scooted closer with a mishievious smile that her daughter recognised so well.

“I’m talking about the one with green eyes that calls you everyday. The one you text every time with a goofy smile on your face”. Letti face palmed at her mother’s description. “His name is Jeffery, o ye mother of mine, Stephanie’s older brother”.

Steph and Leti worked in the same hospital and they had bonded over time. Steph was like family now. And as for Jeffery, his eyes were hazel, not green, and no he did not call her everyday and she definitely did not have a goofy smile when talking to him. Mrs Johnson was silent for a few seconds trying to hold back a laugh. Then she said, ” I will just hold back my comments until after the wedding” before bursting into fits. Leticia stared at her mum with her jaw hanging open.

“What?!” She shouted in disbelief. After her mother recovered from her fits of laughter, Leti explained again that he was just a friend and nothing more.
“Why?” it was her father asking this time. Wale had a peculiar way of creeping into their conversations once in a while. Leti thought hard and when nothing smart came up, She said the first thing she could think of “ well…..he’s okay but he is a lawyer and…and….” She trailed off unsure of what to say next.

“and….” her mother mocked with a smile

“And well, you know how lawyers are, very sneaky with big words and unnecessary archaic grammar. Plus his eyes are scary like all those monsters on TV. He smiles a lot and doesn’t get angry at anything i do which is very creepy!” How can anyone be so tolerant and patient? Especially with someone as unpredictable as the young Miss Johnson?

Her mother could not stop laughing and her father could not keep his smile in as he responded. “I see what the problem is Tolu my dear, he is easy on the eyes caring and he seems to understand you well which makes him difficult to figure out unlike your crazy experiments which you can arrange under numbers and formulas. It’s okay Leti it’s okay to fear change but do not let that hold you back. Pray and think about it, don’t rule him out completely or jump in without thinking. Ask God for clarification and please don’t say monster in public, you are twenty-seven not four years old”.
Letticia sighed and responded with a resigned “okay”.

The lovebirds left Leticia to her thoughts and she was getting immersed in it before her phone rang. It was work and they needed her back there immediately. She had only spent three weeks with her parents after being gone for eight years and it was time to leave again.

“We’ll make video calls everyday mum, please stop with the tears”. She said that in January and now it’s May, mother is still crying and father is consoling her lovingly. The virus had gotten to Nigeria, the United States and many other countries in the world. The World Health Organization declared it a pandemic and Leticia was in one of the hot zones. Her video calls came in less and she always looked worn-out but happy.
“ I need to be here mom, God is using me to take care of people and I’m content. Stop worrying too much, I’ll be fine”. Her mother begged her to come and take care of people over here “God can use you anywhere” she persuaded. Leti laughed and tried to tell jokes to reduce her mother’s fears, She blew her father kisses and ended the call.

That call should have lasted longer, that was all the Johnsons could think about when the next video call came in and it was not Leticia’s face on the other side. Stephanie, her close friend had puffy eyes from crying and could barely put together the words so her brother, Jeffery; the hazel eyed monster, did the talking.
Leticia was now a patient with the others she had been helping, the virus had gotten to her, She was fighting for her life. All they could do now was pray.
Mrs. Johnson was not the first to cry this time, it was her husband. His little girl was fighting for her life at twenty-seven, She had barely lived! What is wrong with the world?

The gravity of the situation forced Mofe to go on her knees in her daughter’s room. It felt like she had just been drenched in cold water. She quoted all the Psalms she knew, reminded God of all his promises, begged Him to do something. She prayed until there was no voice left in her, her body shook from tears that had ceased and her lips quivered. Her eyes were dim, She looked just like Hannah at Shiloh begging for a child. Mr. Johnson knelt next to her and hugged her close. They were both quiet as Mofe kept shivering from life’s cold truth.

“Where is He?” She asked in almost a whisper.
“Where is God in all this Wale?” She asked with a stronger voice. A lone tear slid down her left cheek. She had not exaughsted the tears afterall. She choked back a sob as the dam broke out again.

“Shh…Mofe, don’t talk like that please” her husband hushed while in his own tears.
“I’ve not lost hope, you shouldn’t my love. We have to be strong and follow all precautions. Leticia must not find us weak when she comes back, I know she will come back. The world is falling apart, we have to do our best to hold together whatever part we can. There are a lot of affected people that need our prayers, not just our daughter. Stay strong my dear.” he sighed deeply. He did not know if he was convincing his wife or himself. At this point, he would grab unto any ray of hope. They were at court with the Just Judge and they waited for his final verdict with their heads bowed. They dared to challenge Him with his own laws and precedents.

“Leticia will beat this, my daughter is a fighter. I strongly believe that this plague will passover soon, you’ll see” Wale said with renewed strenght.
You just wait and see.

And so we wait on our knees, with our heart in our hands, hope in our eyes and mouths filled with supplications.

And all things, whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive. ~Matt 21:24

Have you asked?

Dark Sunday

Is this my story to tell?…..

I do not know. What I do know is that I witnessed a part of the story, heard some too and I just have to put it down so it is not lost in time and altered by memory. It all began with a pen and a notebook on Sunday 17th May, 2020.

I wanted to write something but I could not concentrate so I opted to sleep early. It was about past eight pm. There was nothing else to do anyway, with my phone dead, no electricity to charge it and the curfew stated by the Nigerian government was already here. Everyone had closed up their businesses and the police patrol cars were dancing around. The silence around me and the chaos inside me lulled me into a partial sleep. I don’t know how long before I heard her scream. I heard my mother’s scream and I was forced to wake up.

Half awake and half asleep, it’s a new habit that I’m working on dropping. A state were you are asleep but you still know a bit about what is going on around you, even making out conversations here and there. It is an unhealthy type of sleep but it’s also the reason I knew that whatever the issue was, it wasn’t from inside but outside on the streets. I had picked up some words in my sleep.

Jesus!……. How many people dey inside?…….terrible… go, run go!…..oya inside!… no hear am?

I had successfully ignored all until I heard the scream. That’s when I jumped up and looked out the window. It was dark since the streetlights were still under construction. The Pandemic had halted and slowed down a lot of things. I could barely make out anything so I did what I thought i had to do. I went out into the night, following all safety precautions of course.

All I had to do was stick to the sound of screaming women, shouting men, confused youth with phone torches piercing through the dark night. The area was crowded with people when I got there but they slowly began to disperse. Some mumbled prayers and thanked God for things that would have made me smile if not for the dire situation in front of me. A car was right there in the middle of the scattering crowd. I would later find out that it is a Toyota Camry. The wheels where in the air, they had just stopped rolling, and the roof was smashed into the ground. All this did not really get to my half awake mind until I saw the unconscious man on the floor being supported by another man. I lost all words, I have not seen many unconscious people in my life and one that was so close too.

The youth in the area had found a way to bring out the driver from the car, which is the unconscious man I saw. The man supporting his weight was his friend who sat in the passengers seat with him before the accident occurred.

How did this happen? Why is the man still here and not in the hospital? Not that I wish it but, why wasn’t the friend harmed? And where were the confounded patrol cars I had seen earlier?! Isn’t there someone to call?

As if sensing my last thought, a guy next to me dialed what I assume to be an emergency number and began giving descriptions. He was getting frustrated with the answers he was getting because his voice rose an octave higher in anger. I eased away from that angle and got closer to the car. It was completely ruined and the air bag was out, I could hear sniffles from the crowd and I wanted to remind them that their tears would do nothing but I decided against it. I continued my novice inspection without touching anything of course. The road was really smooth and you could see the screech marks of the car. Trailing it a bit farther I could see where the bumper had fallen off and where the windscreens had shattered. All this probably happened while the car was tumbling.

Ah! Den no collect am oo. Make the man no die oo!…..carry am go general hospital nah……wey those police wey dey that junction before? All of dem don japa abi…..hey stop!….stop!..

I looked around and walked towards the scene where i had wandered away from. I observed to understand what was going on when I saw the unconscious man again. I thought they had taken him to the hospital. My thoughts were not wrong, they did take him there but he was rejected. COVID-19 scare they say and it took a lot of self control to keep myself from face palming on the spot. They needed to get him to the general hospital while he was still breathing but it was so far away and there was no other car on the quiet expressway. They tried stopping a private car that drove by but their shouts of ‘stop!’ only scared the driver away. I don’t blame him though, we all looked like a bunch of night robbers. I know I did with my beanie that covered my head down to my eye brows and the baggy shirt and short I had thrown on. I passed for a young boy, just curious like the rest.

Someone suggested taking him to the Airforce base which was close by. Again I did not think any help would be gotten from there and someone else voiced out that thought. Civilians and the military just don’t mix, they say. Another lady called an emergency number, the first was still yet to arrive and we had no idea how much time the man had left with the gash on his head and his unconscious state. His friend looked ready to pass out from the piggyback ride he had given the former to the first hospital that rejected him and probably also from the shock of the whole situation. Those with light fingers had been quick to steal a phone and curses were being rained on the unknown person.

While waiting for help to come, the passenger from the accident was questioned by the good Samaritans or Nigerians in this case, that had helped to retrieve them both from the tumbled car. I got closer, not close enough to be noticed but enough to hear. I was useless to them anyway so there was no point in being seen. We were fewer now. The crowd of almost forty or more people had reduced to less than twenty. I could see both men clearly now, both of them were young, around their late twenties or early thirties was my best guess. The story recounted from the conscious one went thus;

It was infact his car, he just allowed his friend to drive while he sat in the passenger seat. They were not intoxicated, everything was right in their head. His friend had been on a speed of one hundred and twenty kilometer per hour and he did not have his seat belt on. When he complained that his friend should go slower, the latter stepped on the break immediately. That was all that happened and the next thing he knew, they were tumbling. He believes that it was probably the seatbelt that kept him from meeting the same fate as his friend but he honestly couldn’t say.

If that was indeed the truth, we might never know.

Help finally came from a friend that had been called. The emergency rescue team or whatever they are called were still yet to be seen. Both men were helped into the car and off it went. People still lingered a bit before the patrol cars came and everyone was running from being asked any questions. Some shouted obscenities at the Police, LASTMA men and the Lagos State government as a whole. “If na money una go run come, mtcheew” the guy in front of me said before walking off into the dark night. I silently walked away too after taking one last look at the car and the police men that were now guarding the scene from the thieves that were supposedly quietly waiting for everyone to clear out; that’s what I heard from the old men and women that knew the area well. “If no body dey here dem go steal everything for the car finish, even the tyre sef”. I could still hear people’s prayers as they walked or ran back into their homes.

Science would probably have an explanation for everything that just happened and that’s understandable. However, it doesn’t change the fact that i believe it is grace. People have died from less but somehow, this duo survived up to this point. Think of all the what ifs, what if it was a bit later than this and no one was awake to help? What if the guy had been alone in the car and there was no friend to get help? What if they had both died on the spot? What if the car broke through the fragile pavement and entered the residential building that was close by?

I saw love right there today. The youths did everything selflessly. The people that helped to carry the unconscious man did not have to do what they did. The others that directed cars (that refused to help the victims of the accident) away from hitting the upturned vehicle did not wait to be paid. Call it pity or common sense but i call it love. Without considering faults or reward, the Christ kind of love.

And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity…..

No one knows how the story will end. We might never hear about these men again, and it’s probably too minor for the media to carry. It does not change the fact that it happened and humans came through for humans. I dare to hope that there’s still hope for humankind. I could not be of help with my almost nonexistent muscles but I count it a privilege that I could put these words down. I am learning not to take things for granted, we all should. Observe, listen, withhold or recount, lend a hand,do what you know to be right. Be a part of the change.

Live everyday like its a miracle💖.

Whispered Woes

“Patience is key to unravelling certain mysteries”

Thank you for opening this page! I am really glad you did and i will appreciate it if you stay with me until the end. Do not get bored!💖

There is a lot of uncertainty in the air right now. Many things do not make sense and even the ones that do, it’s not so easy wrapping your head around it. Just remember that it’s not the end. Do the needful and breath, take it in one at a time. You will be fine, we all will.

Below is a poem I wrote in isolation. I send a shout out to the people of Abak Midim, Oruk-anam local government in Akwa Ibom state, Nigeria(a part of my root lies there). I borrowed a piece of us to write this poem. Also, I send a shout out to all medical personnel in the world, you are the armed forces in this trying times and we remember you always. I send love to every country. It is my prayer that our lands will be healed soon. I would really appreciate it if you leave a comment, let me know what you understand or don’t understand. Thank you for reading this far, please continue😘.

“Whispered Woes”

Let me tell you a story mama told me
The one about the ‘Ekpo’ of Abak Midim you see;
A time when it wasn’t just a man in a costume,
But a resemblance of dead souls that spelt doom

When the time drew near for Ekpo to roam,
The clan trembled in fear and everyone stayed home
Dressed in the hideous mask and nothing else,
Their loud wails resounded like warning bells

Dare to venture out and risk joining the dead;
A bravery that no one comended
Then mordern religion came and subdued Ekpo,
Yet posterity continually whispered woe

Years rolled by and here we are,
The digital age, a beautiful star
Until the whispered woes shook the balance
Ekpo mutated and resumed it’s dance

Abak Midim is not the focus anymore
This new Ekpo hungers for much more
Restricted movements in continents,countries and clan
As it glides in and attacks a specific organ

The earth trembles and everyone stays indoors
Ekpo governs the air while future uncertainty pours
Science toils in pursuit of a breakthrough
While we pray that a solution will come through

I weep for every man and woman
I weep because of the Ekpo of Wuhan.

For Him

I do not know who this is for. I just sat down one calm afternoon when the words just came to me so here it is…

It never began the way he planned. Things go South when he thinks they’ll go North. Things go right when he is so sure it will go left.

He was born to soar, tossed back and forth by the wind, his struggle against the tide is futile. He fights with all his might but it’s pointless.

Take a break, that’s what I want to tell him.

Breath, I want to show him how.

If only he would listen to me, I would explain to him that he needs to be calm. I would give him a thousand reasons why he needs to breath. I would tell him to stop fighting the storm. I would show him how to let the wheels go, I could encourage him to smile.

I would do all these and so much more but, he is not one person. He is everywhere. He is so many people, so much that I cannot do this on my own.

Will you help me?

Help me smile at the he that has forgotten how to. Tell him to take a break. Tell him to breath, show him how. Explain to him why he needs to be calm, give him a thousand reasons why he needs to breath.

Tell him to stop fighting the storm, show him how to let the wheels go. Tell him to allow Jesus take the wheel.

Tell him,

Please tell him when you see him. Tell him that it is not over, there is still so much more to live for.

Tell him I love him and Jesus does too.

Tell him,

Please tell him.


I have no preamble for this, I just hope it speaks to you somehow. I wrote this from a first person point of view so It might seem like it’s about me but it’s not. Here goes 🙂

The search for love. Longing for acceptance; from families, friends, societies.

Why do they not understand me? Why do they not understand that ‘me’ comes with all my flaws? Well if they cannot take me as I am, it’s their loss. I cannot change, it’s who I am…..

That’s what I used to think

But now, now I look back and I see that the old me needs a smack. I was a fool, a jester, a clown, an idiot, you name it. I look back at the friends I told off because they complained that my ego was puffed.

Martha presided over the matter. I called her a dirty paper but her confidence did not falter.

Lois said I always raised my voice. I screamed into her ear to let her know that it was not by choice. It’s just my voice. It’s a nuisance to people, almost deafening but I will not tone it down. It’s my voice right? I cannot change, it’s not a choice. It’s who I am.

Delilah called me a liar. I threatened her with my pliers. Why couldn’t she understand that it’s just the way I am? I cannot change, this is who I am.

Hannah said I had no manners. I hissed and burped in her face. Then I added a fart and a sneeze. She ran away like the breeze. Well good riddance because I cannot change, it’s just who I am.

Damian called me a loose woman. I nodded and offered him tea in my bedroom. He ran away after yelling doom! I shrugged, that’s his loss. This is not a choice, I cannot change who I am.

My parents won’t talk to me. They called me rude and disrespectful. I smiled and called them both fools. This is who I am

Everyone left me. No friends or family. All because I refused to change. Why don’t they understand that I cannot change? It’s not my choice, it’s just who I am

Sitting in a corner, i hugged my knees as my tears poured out. I felt so alone, no one to call my own. My chest felt tight, my head hurt, my eyes hurt, my whole life hurt. It was right then, in the sea of my self pity, that I heard that voice for the first time, the voice I would later learn to love.

“Alteration, a remarkable change. Come” the voice was calm and welcoming, like it was calling out to a lover. But I was headstrong, I cannot change, I just can’t. It’s who I am, I have no other choice. I am me.

I heard a soft chuckle but I could not see the owner of the voice. ” you have a choice and you know it, you’re just too afraid to take the leap. You can be so much more”

I covered my ears with both my hands desperate to shut the voice out. “I can help you, just let me in…”. Squeezing my eyes shut I yelled, ” No! get out of my head!”. “I know who you are and who you can be. I see everything and I know what is in your heart

“You don’t know anything! You don’t know me! Just leave me alone” I screamed at the unseen being desperate to end this unusual conversation.

“What if I told you that I can help you start over? I can restore everything you have lost. All you have to do is let me in“. the sweet voice was so patient, speaking softly like I was a five year old that could easily be scared away.

With my eyes still shut firmly, I asked shakily “W…who are”

“Open your eyes and I’ll show you” reluctantly, I obeyed. I shut them back almost immediately as the bright light stung my eye. It was not this bright before….

I opened them again, slowly this time to give my eyes time to adapt. Yet all I could see was my room and how bright it had become. Then something happened that changed my life forever. A hand flashed before my very own eyes. It was for a brief moment but it was enough for me to see the hole in the palm.

“It cannot be” I repeated to myself over and over. “But it is” He said. “I Am and I can but only if you will”

And i willed.

It has been a journey ever since. We have been together for so long but still He never ceases to amaze me. I look forward to what He would say or do next. When things are inside out and I find myself struggling while in tears, I hold on to his hand. This is the best relationship anyone could ever have. It’s exciting and full of adventure. I feel like I can take on the world and its just been a few months. I’m talking about a relationship with Jesus.


In the beginning was the word…

So let this beginning of mine be about words.

Words are fire, they either cook or burn. It all depends on you. They are mere letters put together that become spirits when spoken.

Words don’t choose who to torment, the tormented chooses the words.

Words don’t define you but they are used to define who you are, there’s a huge difference.

A negative word is still a negative word even from the mouth of a positive body

Words are missiles, calling them off is not an option. Can we then redirect them? Or do we press the ‘self destruct’ button?

Words don’t get the credit they deserve, they stand through the test of time destroying or rebuilding. They never relent.

Words have nothing to loose. As long as you and I exist, they will continually be reborn.

From the mouth of sucklings to the hands of great men. Words evolve.

Always remember that words are the heavy weight champion you must contend with everyday. So far, only wisdom has helped many from being knocked out.

Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore get wisdom, and with all thy getting, get understanding…..