The nester departing(Love Letters for my son)3

So. 18. The big one.

Words are inadequate to explain how humbling the process of watching you grow has been.

Young man, Kingdom giant, Kingdom General! Who am I?

I will remind you of all you need to know son, not because I don’t trust you, but because we all need reminders when life starts to ask us it’s confusing questions..because ask you it will.

Know whose you are son, always. You are the son of the King. He is always responsible for you and will NEVER let you fall out of his grasp. Once your spirit and mind gets a hold of this revelation, nothing can stop you. Nothing. Let this love be the fuel, the power for your life.

Wear this love as your all purpose garment, in everything.

Son, diligence pays. Hard work pays( because we haven’t raised you to be entitled) but smart work even better. Don’t let anyone convince you of otherwise. Get-rich-quick schemes are get-poor-quick schemes as well. We had so many of them in my own growing up days and they have been recycled in your time I’m sure, but allow me to save you the heartache of falling into the trap!

Your brain is a precious resource, and I admonish you to use it to the full, but your mind and spirit are even more! Stay in the mind Christ has given you and the answers the world is looking for, to questions they haven’t even asked are within you! Don’t ever doubt yourself, because you have too much to give to live in any kind of doubt.

Son, guard your heart. Be jealous of the company you keep. Be jealous for what you read, what you watch, what you listen to. This world has soooo many different suggestions, suggestions which they coyly present as fact or truth, to unsuspecting people. Know your foundation, and refer back to it often. Grace is the only ocean you can drown in AND still live! So drown in grace! That’s life!

Girls! Girls! Girls! They are the most beautiful creatures this earth will ever provide. They are also the most corrupted..and corruptible.

As such, you must look at and think of them as your sisters. Once you have this as your primary thought, you will have no problems treating them with honor and dignity. A lot of men don’t understand that women are God’s daughters..and should be treated with consideration. But you are different.

So, no sowing of wild oats. No sir. Your body, beautiful as it is, is not meant to be given to everyone at the whim of flimsy emotions. We are ALL(man and woman) called to a life of purity! You are not your emotions, your emotions should not control you, because they belong to you and not you to them. There is more to life than just getting in a girl’s pants, because after that, what next?

That’s why you are different. Relish your difference, it is more relevant than going with the ‘normal.’

And no heartbreaks. Fine boy does not equal heartbreaker. Hearts are fragile son..if a woman gives you her heart, treasure it. Treasure it because it’s a sign of pure unadulterated is a gift to be savored, not an opportunity to feel entitled. There is so much pain in this world. Don’t add your quota.

The love of money is a slave. So is power, ambition, sex.

But you are a bondservant already to something else, someone else! Never forget this, and don’t forget that you can be ‘slave’ to one thing at a time. Don’t pay attention to ideologies that talk about ‘freedom’ as removal from responsibility or freedom to do whatever we want.

This is not a popular opinion but behind this so called ‘freedom’ is bondage. You see, we were created for a purpose. That automatically bonds us to that is in that purpose that we find our freedom.

Stay in your freedom son. Don’t buy the freedom this world offers. It’s too expensive.

I remember when you told your father you would be married at 23. I laughed so hard because that’s so early!

But later, when I thought about it a bit more, I’m like why not? Why wouldn’t you, anyway? The love and beauty you have clearly seen between your dad and I Is of God only and therefore exemplary by his grace only. Marriage- between a man and a woman, is noble.

So, when you get married, and I can’t wait, know that just as your father has loved me to this day with the love Christ has for his church, the way he still adores me and looks at me as though he only just saw me, as though I’m the most beautiful girl in the world, the way he has cradled my dreams and ideas and pushed and helped me birth things I never thought possible..know you are called to this also. You must purpose in your heart that as you chose her, she stays as your chosen, your beloved. All of her. That you never lose your wonder for her. That her body is your home, your comfort, your haven. That you drink only from your own cistern. Be kind to her. Be kind to her, my love. Kindness is so understated, but a good woman will do anything for you if you are kind to her.

Let her mind be your sounding board. You didn’t marry a trophy wife, so let her bless your life with the wholeness of the Christ-person she came into the marriage with. Love her beyond reason, as Jesus has loved you beyond reason. Its the only way that your marriage will work.

And when you are fruitful and have your sons and daughters, this legacy continues.

Because your wife is your good thing. What you call her is what she is. So you must constantly speak to her, great and wondrous things, because as her head, that’s what she will be.

Be kind to the elderly, always. Sometimes we forget that we will grow older..but our elders have a pivotal role to play in our lives. You were literally raised by the ‘village’ I had in my life at the time, and I’m grateful for all of the older Christian ladies and gents, in addition to your precious grandparents who gave your father and I soft landing.

Let your life be given to service. In church, at work, wherever you find yourself, serve as unto the Lord: therein lies your eternal rewards. Use your salvation! It’s a priceless precious privilege that nothing can ever purchase!

Know that you are greatness..that the things inside of you though bigger than you are still inside of you! You are world influencer, a king maker. Stay true to who you are, always. Know that you are always an answer wherever you are, as you have constantly been to us.

Dance, stand in the rain! Stand when it’s all crashing down. Stand! Live! Be present! Never settle for less! Laugh! Love! And know that I’m here, to hold your hand and dance in the rain with you if need be.

Happy birthday my heart!


The time Became(Love Letters for my son)2

Birthing you was easy…my body remembered the pain of your sister’s labor and helped me.

What was unfathomable was that you were even more beautiful than I imagined. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. When you grabbed my left breast in all of ten minutes, latched on and fed hungrily, taking you in that moment, I knew that for the second(or third time) in a row, what I knew about love was child’s play! God! My heart nearly burst with the intensity of the things I was feeling!

You wanted to breastfeed all the time! Gosh! It got to a point my husband wasn’t pleased at all!(the man wanted his breasts back haha) but it was so funny to witness him get upset about the fact that his own son wanted my breasts all the time and there was nothing he could do about it! So that when you were one year he couldn’t wait for you to be ‘gone!’

You were in a hurry to do everything, my son! In no time you were crawling in and out of every corner you could find! It drove your father and I crazy! You loved water and loved to play so much!

When we took you to church I noticed how, early on you were drawn to the drums. The strokes made your eyes light up!

Oh and you were such a looker! You got so many oohs and aahs from the moms and aunts everywhere you went. Your dimpled smile wrecked all of their hearts every single time, and your beautiful dark twinkly eyes, so full of warmth and mischief, so perfectly framed by such a beautiful face..ah. No one stood a chance.

You grew. And as you grew in stature you grew in wisdom. Just as I’d prayed, you grew to be a leader wherever you were. You were wise beyond your years. You were kind and considerate and protective of those smaller than you. Your father and I got calls from your hybrid home school with testimonials of how you were outstanding in your manners and behavior, and how you honored your seniors.

And how you loved your sister. It moved me to tears how you were so kind, so tolerant of her naturally vivacious nature. You were her hero. Daddy was, sure, but you were her favorite plaything, always ready to indulge her, learning so young to share with her. It took my breath away to watch you take care of her and kiss her forehead when she was antsy about something.

You loved to read! Oh the wonder of it! I saw how your eyes lit up when you were in some faraway land with a book,how you took it all in! Reminded me of me when I was your age. And the biggest wonder of it all- the Bible fascinated you! Oh! You asked a million and one questions and your father was thrilled! In his customary way, he answered them all and used everything available to teach you life lessons, lessons that I’ve watched you apply in your short time. I can never ever get over the fact that in your father I married my own husband. The thought humbles me everytime.

Watching you grow from five to eight to you prayed your little perfect prayers, how you made sure your sister, although older, prayed too. Truly, you were born to lead.

You were also a child with incredible reserves of energy! I prayed for you to get tired and go to sleep at the end of everyday! It seemed like you had some sort of power house somewhere inside of you that made you keep going and going and going! Oh but when you came down with tonsillitis and had to be in hospital for a few days I prayed earnestly for your energy to come back. I missed it so! Nobody tells you that even as a doctor, when your child is ill you literally shut down. I literally couldn’t function at optimum when you were ill.

I remember when I taught you to do the dishes. I remember when your father first taught you to tie your shoe laces. The memories! You were an answer to the prayers your father prayed over you even before he met me. He loved to spend time with you and take those nature walks with you.

And when you started to get into adolescence..when your voice broke and hair started to stick out of your face..when you grew to be taller than both me and your father..I watched you. I watched over you and I prayed for you.

You see, your father is one of a kind- there aren’t many men alive like him. He treasures me in a way I only dreamed I’d be treasured.. with lots of extra. And so I wanted that for you too. I wanted you to learn to treasure the women in your life, too, and your father is the perfect model for that.

I wanted you to know that your standards were and are different from the standard of the world you reside in. That you were born to be supernatural.

I found out about Dara, this girl you had the biggest crush on. When she came to the house in the company of your other friends, I saw how your eyes lit up when they alighted on her. I saw her blush and look down when your eyes met. Oh it was the sweet innocence of adolescent love.

But behaved yourself- at least as far as I could see, around her.. as you purposed in your heart to do around other girls who were your friends.

I also saw you struggle, son, with pain and anger. Injustice made you upset. Poverty made you question a lot of things..corruption brought darkness and a scowl to your beautiful face, and I saw you take these to God..and to the basketball court, and the beautiful strokes of the drums.

In all these things, I prayed. And I thanked God you took to these as opposed to drugs and alcohol misuse. What an incredibly favored woman you made me, son. Your life was and still is a model that many want to follow.

When it was time for college, you seemed to already know what you wanted to do.. early on in my life, I had told God that my children would be allowed to express themselves in whatever career path they held an affinity your dad and I were only going to help direct and channel your energies to whatsoever He wanted you to pursue.

So I made my peace with the fact that you would study whatever you wanted and excel at it, just as you had excelled in your school work( with its attendant challenges of course).

…to be continued!

HeartStrings(Love Letters for my son)

My man!

You’d probably roll your eyes at this because hey it’s your mommy writing you this.. mushy stuff. But it’s okay honey. You will have to bear with me because I have so many interesting things to tell you!

You my son, are a miracle child. I know you’ve heard this many times but permit me to say it..again.

Your father and I were in a tough time in our lives. We were just moving to another state, trying to scale to a higher level in both our careers, not really ready to take on another baby but not really minding.

I’d thought I was feeling all of that malaise from the fact that we were handling so much at a time..that I was exhausted from studying and working at the same time, and taking care of your sister. Your father, bless his beautiful soul, even with his ridiculous work schedule, checked in on me like clockwork, reminding me to eat(I forgot to eat a lot back in the day).

But I was exhausted still. All the time. So that I didn’t even notice when I’d missed my period twice in a row.

I was at the pharmacy to pick up a prescription when I passed by a row of test kits and I just decided to throw in a few.

Two days later..the two strips confirmed what I should’ve already known(I was a master of my body and so in tune with it that it was unbelievable that I’d missed it).

It was hot scalding tears at first. I didn’t even know what to we would raise you with all we had going on. The fears threatened to bowl me over.

But when I called your dad and told him, he literally stopped everything he was doing to come home to me. And when he looked at me, I knew that EVERYTHING would be alright. He held me, in that tender way only he has been able to perfect and my bones turned to mush. My husband!

Ah but we are talking about you, my son 😄😄😃😃

You grew. By God, you grew! I thought that because we didn’t really ‘plan’ to have you when we did, my wonder at the miracle that was you would be less..boy was I wrong!!

You caused me to eat gummies my whole pregnancy! And my love for roasted corn was multiplied, so that your father always had to have corn in the house so we could stick in the oven and bake/roast even at night. I could only eat with butter too.

And guess what? No acne! I was acne free the whole length of your pregnancy! It was such a shock and a joy for me!

Your father..I don’t know that there is another man for me walking the face of this earth. He loved me beyond sense or sensibility! Although I wasn’t ill even once, it seemed like the man couldn’t bear to be apart from me. He is a gem- He put my ridiculously thick hair in braids when I didn’t want to go the stylist(which was often), he kissed me all the time(because I was needy all the time!) he gave me a foot rub every week, he was at every yoga class..he told me everyday that I glowed!

Because I did, you know. You made me glow. I was a beautiful pregnant woman.

I spoke to you everyday. I told you how I couldn’t wait to meet you. I told you that you were precious to me, that you were loving, honorable and brilliant. I played you music everyday and you danced! I prayed for you, son, everytime I touched my ever increasing tummy, I saw your face and I Blessed you with all that was in me. I told you that you weren’t born to be ordinary. That you were going to love the Lord and serve him in your youth and forever.

…to be continued…..

On conversations/musings on Suicide:

Many times I’ve felt that if I took my life no one would miss me. After all No one is indispensable really, right?

I remember reading an article about not binging on telling me only that I am beautiful at women conferences. Or that I am perfect.

Because I am not the only beautiful girl. And my beauty isn’t the reason I became saved. My beauty isn’t blinding or anything. So why focus on it?

I am special only in as far as I am in Christ. Only in Christ.

Bible says all of my temptations are COMMON(paraphrased). My struggles are not even unique to me, so🤷🏽‍♀️

But anyway back to suicide.

A lot of the time suicide can be about everyone else apart from the person who committed suicide. Like they weren’t getting enough love from the people around them or the people around them were mean to them.

But honestly sometimes it isn’t really about anyone else. Sometimes even when things are seemingly good, someone just wants to end it.



But- and this is where it gets dicey-true. Truthfully true.

I am God’s workmanship. You are God’s workmanship. Created in Christ Jesus for HIS good works.

The day I gave my life to Christ, it ceased being about me.

The idea of suicide is so demonic-and not necessarily in a way that screams demon possession.

It’s just demonic in the way it was at the rebellion of the 1/3 angels…where Lucifer wanted to be God for his own purposes. It was about him and what he wanted.

That’s what suicide is. It’s only about you and what you want. Not what God wants.

Sir, It is not about me. It is not about me. It is not about me.

It is about my Maker. I go where he wants me to. Irrespective of the fact of how I am feeling.

Jesus already did all there was to be done concerning suicide. He committed the ultimate suicide( he gave his life, it wasn’t taken from him) so I don’t have to commit suicide again. Because my suicide cannot redeem anything and anyone.

That is the real issue of suicide. Not that it is selfish but that it is anti-the-Maker.

“We have become his poetry, a re-created people that will fulfill the destiny he has given each of us, for we are joined to Jesus, the Anointed One. Even before we were born, God planned in advance our destiny and the good works we would do to fulfill it!”

Ephesians 2:10 TPT



A thought I’ve had for a while:

Because people are so..crazy about ‘freedom’ to be whoever or whatever they are, we tend to push everything to extremes.

For example: because we want it to seem like sex is just a routine thing, like a basic instinct, everything is done in such a way to cheapen it and make it seem like it’s nothing.

So women are objectified. Sex is used to sell even the basic things.

Women dress in clothes that very often leave nothing to the imagination. In a bid to make it seem ‘normal’ people sit around ogling and feigning a laissez fare attitude.. As if their senses are deadened to these things.

But the truth is that they aren’t. Continuous viewing of these things create a false insulation..but it’s what gives birth to the amount of raucous and crazy ways people indulge in a bid for it not to be ‘ordinary or boring’. As if they are trying to compensate for acting bored or non-plussed about continued exposure to ‘sex-ified’ images.

But making love can never ever be boring. It’s a gift from God. And no gift from God can be ordinary or boring.

PS-I started to put this together in my head this evening when I saw a lady with full beautiful boobs on tv, working at a tattoo parlor, and the guy who was getting that tattoo done wasn’t even looking at her.

I’m sure however that he looked..however short and that image would have stayed..and some fantasies may have be born from that image..and to what end?

We glorify God in our conduct. Always. That should be the real meaning of staying woke. We stay woke by expressing our Christ.

Bami Jo!

Do you recognize your help?

Do you behold your succor?

It’s from a source that IS.

Have you forgotten how to run?

It’s like this: two steps, one after another,

In fast forward.

That’s how you move. In fast forward.

Eyes ahead.

Because that’s what he has wrought.

His blood for your exploits.

His pain for your every profit.

Stay bright eyed! Powered by joy! It’s a few days!

A thousand years as one day he said?

A few ‘days’-of major attain?

It was finished before you started. Unabridged.

Bami jo! Dance!

CAn You HEAR me?

Growing up, I watched a lot of TV.

I was a very very inquisitive, nerdy child, so I took in a lot of things just by observing. I learned speech, intonation, even mannerisms from the movies-and all of this was really passive. There was no deliberate intent. However, my ears/hearing had undergone training to hear what they said.

So when I went to school abroad and I went on holidays, and I opened my mouth to talk and it seemed like I could not be heard clearly(yet I was hearing them clearly), I found it strange. I could hear them. Why couldn’t they hear me?

Fast forward to this evening, many many years from when I was growing up(Lol), I was listening to a Stefani Gretzinger song-Confident, while I was getting ready for church. It’s such a beautiful song!

But then I realized that there were parts of it that I couldn’t hear. Her words sounded a bit blurred out, so at those points I was just enjoying the melody.

I became aware then, that the reason I couldn’t hear everything clearly was because my ears haven’t been trained for a long time to listen to words said in a particular way and a particular intonation(I’ve been back in Nigeria long enough and I really haven’t interacted with as much white people as I used to).

And I got reminded, plain as day, that this is the same as the Word of God. What do I hear? Do I train my ears to hear what the Word says instead of what I hear flying around? Because a lot of what’s flying around is the regular, factual stuff.

But imagine what I learned passively when I was growing up. What if I was intentional?

So, If I train my ears, by reason of stretching and use, intentionally, to hear only the word, to speak only the word, in the certain, particular way, to measure every situation and circumstance only by the Word..

Soon it’s all I will hear. Soon it’s the only reaction I will have. And soon it’s all I will say. And honestly, it’s the most important thing(s) I will say.

Because honestly, the Word is truth. It is not fact. It cannot change, because it’s author does not change or shift shadows.

PS-I finally figured out that the reason some white folk don’t sometimes hear what we say isn’t because we aren’t speaking right necessarily, but possibly because they have not been trained to hear our speak because they may not have had enough interaction with people who speak our speak the way we speak it. Lol. Once their ears are trained, they will hear.

Go figure.

And yes, you can train your ears to hear specific things. Hearing is taking specific information in..different from listening which is really just taking it all in.

In my parlance, they would say, Hear Word! I’m not using it in the same way that it is usually used, but I’m saying literally nonetheless,

Hear Word!

I’m back people!

Conversations on Absolutes and Relationships in God


Conversations of believers affirming God’s reality. Shared to enlighten and bring clarity.

I have been burdened these past couple days. So much so, I have been crying from experiencing the vicarious pain of some of my beloved ones.

I’ll tell you the remote cause in a minute.

But first, let me share what a seasoned father and teacher of the word said about the peace of God in relationships.

Fair warning; it may come across as a tough, uncomfortable pill. So here goes my paraphrase of what he said;

“Once a person is a believer( I’m talking about a true believer), the person is the will of God for you. Everyone who is a son is the will of God for you, as long as they are believers. Your role is to own this person. Own them as yours.”

“It’s our own will that prevents us from owning a person we…

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Bittersweet beautiful.

It’s Christmas Day.If you woke up with the bittersweet feeling that, although you should be happy(”tis after all the season to be jolly) but you have to fight the urge to break out into tears, this post is for you. Because it’s for me too.
It isn’t that you aren’t grateful for all he has done for you. It isn’t that you don’t have any reasons to be jolly. It isn’t that you don’t know he has kept you, preserved you, provided for you, comforted you.
But if you’ve experienced any sort of betrayal, rejection or redundancy this year, you know what I’m talking about.
If you have had to question yourself this year, if you have had to wonder if you are really as bad as someone has made you out to be, you know what I am saying.
But. And this is the most important but you will hear.

But someone, the God who created the heavens and the earth, the God who is the Elyon, most high, entered through the fabric of time today. 

He came as a little babe, whose purpose was to die.
And he did this because, he wanted to let you know that, although you may be heartbroken, may have been rejected, although you have broken sobs coming through today, he came.
He came to establish the fact that other people’s rejection of you is nothing compared to his complete, total acceptance of you. Flaws and all.

He will never reject you. He came to be like you to understand your every feeling, every pain, every emotion, every betrayal.
So that when he is covering your shame, your pain and your nakedness, he knows exactly where and how to cover. He knows what places to feel, what wounds to apply salve to. 

And he is the best person for the job, because he knows you by name.
Don’t forget that today. 

Don’t ever forget that.
Merry Christmas.


The year 2016 started on a very high note for her. She had gotten engaged to her(then) boyfriend eight days prior, in a beautiful, surprising little ceremony that took her breath away. The love of her life. The one that God sent to her, to love forever. Her life seemed to be moving in the direction she thought it should. Hope was flying around, infectious, available for the taking, and she grabbed it greedily. Didn’t God say he would always finish what he’d started? All the technicalities of being married and moving out finally were not finalized, but there was a ring! He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her(or so the ring promised)! Nothing could touch her! Nothing could touch them. 

She could plan. She could decorate her home(in her head). All those experiments she always wanted to try in the kitchen, she could finally do them!She could finally talk about her wedding dress, her wedding colors, she could look forward to being a queen on her special day. She could finally have legal sex. 
It’s December 2016 and she can tell you that on a scale of 1-10, this year ranks 259,000 as the most difficult year in the entirety of her short(or not-so-short) life. 

Every dream held dear to her for this year got shattered. Every fear she ever had came to pass this year. 

Failed professional exams(twice)?✔️

Being so broke at some point that even 10naira could not surface?✔️

Crying such bucketfuls this year from a heart that has been so riddled with pain and fear that it’s hard to remember if there was a time she didn’t cry all the time?✔️✔️

Justin Timberlake knew what he was saying when He sang ‘Cry Me A River’. She knew now that it was possible.

Nightmares that woke her up and made her bolt up like someone on a leash?✔️

Woken up crying many many many times, evidenced by tears on the face?✔️

Questioned her sanity more times this year than in the entirety of her life?✔️✔️✔️

An object of ridicule and pity? ✔️✔️ ✔️✔️✔️

Tried?✔️Afflicted?✔️Wounded?✔️ Bruised?✔️Battered?✔️✔️
Many things were said. She is strong, they said. She is hard, they said. She is unyielding, they said.
When it became the only choice, when it got to the point where I should have been chosen, I wasn’t chosen.

When it got too hot, I was dropped.

Heartbreak, long lost enemy she thought she had lost forever was back.You can’t get rid of me, he seemed to whisper gleefully in her ears.

Twenty-Sweet-Sixteen? Sweet? What was that, exactly?

Oh, but you see, many other things happened this year.

For one, more than anything else, She appreciates the precious gift of God as a sure friend in her life this year. She is nobody in the grand scheme of things. Really. Smaller than a dot, a speck. 
But she is chosen. Nothing was clearer this year than this. 

Chosen by God to BE LOVED and to LOVE.

BELOVED. Every tear She cried he cried right with her. Not one of her tears are wasted. Even the ones she is crying now, blurring her vision as she types this.
Her hope is anchored on a surety that will NEVER expire, never finish, never become invalid. She cannot sell this surety for any amount because nothing can buy it. All the riches of this world cannot pay for it. All.

This therefore means that her hope can NEVER end.
Friendships, covenant friendships were formed this year, the blood of Jesus Christ being the seal..and that is a blood that is more powerful than any other force in the world. Bonds that cannot be broken even by death.
You see, pain provides the sharp contrast against pleasure. Love provides the sharp contrast against fear. If you haven’t felt pain, pleasure isn’t as intense, as important. If you haven’t felt fear, Love is not as appreciated, as treasured.
Ah, but Pain redeems. Ask Jesus. His pain, his blood on the cross redeemed the whole of Humanity. So her pain redeems. There is beauty on the other side.

The love of God is real. It is Sure. It’s firm.

It’s surer than gravity.

Better than life.

Does not change or alter, like shifting shadows.

It is scandalous, consistent, incomprehensible.

It’s humbling. 

She does not understand it, can’t ever fully comprehend it in the limited scope of this present human frame and sensibilities, ah but it is a cushion, a safe place, a warm place. A place where impossibilities become possible. 
For a while there, her name was Mara. But He reminded her that she is a fruitful vine. A beautiful land.



Her land flows with Milk and Honey.

There is purpose in her existence. 

So she will stay here. In Jesus.

Here is the place of thanksgiving, of thanks-living, of thank-FULL-ness, of hope, of peace, of total dependence.
And all of her little girl dreams will be rebuilt, restored, slowly maybe.(or not. Who is to determine?)But surely. 

All. Not one missing, not one broken, not one lost.
He will STILL do what He has said He will do. He is God. And she trusts Him.

You are mine. I cherish you, He says.

That’s all.



I want to go home.Where my heart is safe.

Where my feelings are valid.

Where my voice is treasured.
Where my thoughts are thought in peace.

Where my solitude is valued.

Where touches are sweet..intimate

..kisses not stolen, hugs big and warm.

Where tears are not overlooked, never overlooked.

Surely it’s home when kindness is law

And love is king?

Where trust is preserved…

Isn’t it home where no topic is taboo?

Where conflict produces resolution?

Where silence is enjoyed, not used as a tool for abuse?

Where love is requited, appropriately?

Where the music made is beautiful.

Or beautiful chaos.

Where everyone is enough.

Where it is all enough. 

That’s home.
I need you, home.

I do.

Out there. Here.

You ever get there? You ever figure?Where your tired is tired?

Is this what it is?

Is this how it plays out?

Gnashing my teeth unconsciously I only notice when I have a headache.

Chest so tight I hear a wheeze.

Not the asthma wheeze. It’s the heart-fractured-in-so-many-places pain is oozing out from every crack-kind-of-wheeze.

Neither Band-aid nor POP can fix this.

Silent screams wishing somehow to be heard..

How do I sort through this pain? settled in my chest like a king.

Where do I start to mend from?

Pain so diverse, yet so familiar I don’t even know where to ligate.

To stop the bleeding that has become.
But You are great, O God. There can be no other. You are true. All else is a lie. You are Great. Beautiful for all situations. I can’t concern myself with anything else. I won’t concern myself with anything else. You slay me. I praise you. 
One day. That day. The day. She comes forth. It comes forth.

That day that her experience lines up with her position.

That day that the tears are of joy not sorrow.

Great day when her heart takes flight.
You are beautiful, You are lovely. You are kind, you are wise, you are IMPORTANT.

He will remind you how lovely, how honorable, how beautiful, how valuable, how important you are.

Your light shines brighter and brighter. Nothing barren is roundabout or inside of you. You are woman, phenomenally you, blessedly priceless. 
It won’t be long now. Blessings upon blessings. Mountains being removed. It won’t be long now. 
The day comes, it breaks forth, when you don’t have to struggle to wonder if you are special to the man that God has kept for you. Where you don’t have to doubt if it’s you or it’s everyone else. Till then, thank the Lord that to Him, you are always special, always different, always loved, always cherished. 

Thank you Jesus for your unfailing love. 

This thing called Love.

Two nights ago I tried to imagine what heaven looked like on the day of the crucifixion.

A little background-God was on earth, living as a man, ‘limited’ by all the frailties and the constrictions of this human body. 
I’m sure there were discourses and talks in heaven on this topic. ‘The Benefits of being man’ or ‘The man-God’. Lol. The Angels must have wondered why anyone who could be in a million different places at once would want to be in one place, walking around in the dust and the harsh weather,talking to people whose hearts were so hardened by sin,pain and everything in between, that they probably wouldn’t have listened.

You know why I’m certain they would have talked about it? Because the bible says that angels long to look into the things of salvation. They long to understand it. But they don’t. That is a sole preserve of God and humans.
Think about that for a while, will you?
So,come crucifixion afternoon,Jesus died. 
God died. 
The hosts of heavenly armies must have looked on in horror. I know that they were loyal to God entirely, and they trusted that He knew what He was doing-after all, He has NEVER failed. But I often wonder if maybe a few of them thought that maybe God had taken it too far?
 Probably my humanity talking….lol.
Anyway, my musing continued.I imagined that as they looked on, they kept thinking in their minds, he will send us out to end this madness right now. I’m sure they were more than ready to save Jesus from this terrible,shameful death in a micro second. They must have wondered what on earth(pun intended) was going on. With the flick of their fingers they could have ended the crucifixion and restored Jesus’ body.
Yet God told them to do nothing. To stay put.
How frustrating,I imagine.
Heaven must have been silent. 
God died. 
Oh,but resurrection morning came. Resurrection morning. The morning that altered everything forever.
Everything changed from there. Even our regular calendar is dated Before Christ, and After Death. B.C And A.D.
He rose. He used death to destroy death itself so everyone knows they need not die or be subject to death anymore.
His death made a public show of the disgrace of Satan.
His resurrection made a public show of God’s superiority and Boss-hood. Lol.  Not that it needed to be shown. 
The heavens declare His power and Royalty.
Creation worships just by being. The sun worships by rising and setting every day since forever without fail. The cock crows the same time everyday, via an internal body clock. The earth has not fallen out of orbit since creation. Who else but God could have done that?
Pastor Philip Ransom Bello would always say that if the devil understood what God’s plan of salvation was,he would have done everything to make sure Jesus did not die.
Salvation was a brilliant,genius thing that could have only been brought about by a God whose ways are so superior,so unbelievably foolproof that it can only be the true God. It’s motivation is love. Pure,blinding,scandalous,unprecedented, unequivocal,unapologetic(please insert your own adjectives here)love. A love that the Angels cannot understand because the salvation plan was not even made known to them. 
A love that cut through my heart last night in a way that I cannot fully explain. A love that humbled me and left me unable to stand(literally)for the sheer force of it, just so I can hold my head up high the rest of the days of my life,knowing that I am loved in ways that I can’t fully comprehend until maybe this body is renewed.
I’m saved. I didn’t earn it. I could never pay for it. But it was given freely to me. Because I believed. Only.
He died. Then He rose. 
For me.
Overwhelmed. Forever in awe.

Musings on Sovereign.

I read Da Vinci’s code for the first time in 2005. I’d never heard of Dan Brown before that time, so I had no prior biases.

I enjoyed it. Immensely. It was such an interesting, well written, fast paced thriller. Of course the fact that it was a book speaking about so-called controversies in the catholic church(I was raised catholic and there was so much I didn’t understand. Not to say this book helped me understand any But it helped solidify my already restless thoughts about God and Church and all that jazz. However that is talk for another time. I digress!)

At the end of it all, I came away with the ‘knowledge'(even though he already wrote a disclaimer that although his book was well researched, it was a work of fiction) that Jesus Christ had indeed married Mary Magdalene and had a child.

To be honest, I didn’t know how to take this information. I was not incensed nor was I completely disbelieving. I tried to reason it out like an intellectual. I wanted to be one of those of whom it could be said that could read anything and process the information without becoming unduly influenced. You see, it was important to me that I was not known as a religious bigot, neither did I want to be known as an intolerant person.

So after much ruminating, I came to the conclusion that it was okay if Jesus was married. He was man, wasn’t he? Marriage is a very important part of adult life, I told myself.

So long as my beliefs were not shaken, so long as him being married did not affect how I viewed Jesus, it was okay.

And I was fine.

Three days ago, (nine years and maybe a few months later), I stumbled upon the Da-vinci code on TV. It became a big motion picture, as you all know, and it was the subject of so much talk.

And in watching it, I realised I never really believed that Jesus was married.

Not because of any indoctrination either.

No, this revelation was wholly of the spirit of God. And I know this because I could not have thought it through in my own knowledge.

You see, Jesus was and is God. He came to earth to save us from what we could not save ourselves from. We could never have pleased God because we were never good enough from the start. Adam made sure of that.

He is one with God, and so He knows all things with God. He knows our end from our beginning. He knows every man’s thoughts before he even thinks it.

And because God is the biggest dramatist, the best cinematographer, screen writer, the biggest movie writer of all time, the biggest everything of everything good and beautiful, because God wrote the plan of salvation long before we even knew we needed saving, he also knew that the Da-vinci code would be written in this time. He knew that the topic of Jesus’ marriage-or lack thereof would come up.

He knew man’s propensity to fit God into a box, into his own mold. Into his own understanding.

He knew man would try to think through the issue of salvation in his own limited thoughts.

He knew that, if Jesus got married, had an earthly bloodline, had earthly children,someone would try to water down salvation and grace. That man would reduce the fact of Jesus’ death and resurrection to a matter of earthly bloodlines. That we would try to compress the fact that because we have access now to God wholly through Jesus Christ, that we have the righteousness of God through Christ and Christ alone, making us sons and co-heirs, someone would try to make us all unequal in grace because someone would say that the original earthly bloodline of Jesus was superior and that these superior ones who have his blood flowing through their veins may not have to confess with their mouths and believe with their hearts that Jesus is Lord.

Because that’s what humans do. We classify. We segregate. We separate into castes. Into colors.

But in God there are no favorites. In God we are ALL equal. We are all sons. All children of the Most High. Jesus’ blood saved me and redeemed me and gave me unlimited, unending access.

Me and everyone else who believes that Jesus is Lord.

And that is all that counts.

PS-I have ‘un-learned’ the ‘knowledge’ of Jesus’ marriage. Hehe.

Oh, and Happy new year guys 🙂 Better late than never.

The Pulse Of Holy


Hey guys 🙂 its been a long long hiatus hasn’t it ?:-)

So much has been going on and I have ignored this blog so long..but I met a complete stranger today who said he read my blog and asked why I’d stopped writing. I had no answer..but I am humbled and grateful for him because he encouraged me to write..again. In like five Thank you, Jude Eneh:-)


So, I want to talk to you about something that has been on my mind for a little while now. Yep I am back!


Someone important was talking about holiness and sanctity of the church(the building and the institution) and how,amongst other things, Christians do not take the House of God seriously anymore and are often found gossiping, chewing gum and generally being ‘un-church-like’ in church. Lol. I am sure you guys understand what I am trying to say. Anyway, he got to a part in his talk and said that what was being done at their own Christian gathering was not ‘the same’ as what was done at any ‘ordinary’ prayer meeting outside(paraphrased). Ie it was superior.


For some reason my mind stayed stuck on that one sentence. Mulled it over. Dissected it. Worried it. Tore it apart. Contemplated it. Ruminated about sha get the point.


Is there such thing as an ‘ordinary’ prayer meeting? I mused.


Let’s break this down.


Prayer is the communication of the Spirit of man with the Spirit of God. Because, God is wholly Spirit(thank you TSP for this teaching) so the only way to communicate with Him is Spirit to Spirit, hence prayer.


So, there is a reason why Jesus said, where two or three gather, I am there.

He didn’t talk just because he liked the sound of his voice. He said it to show that the Spirit of God, which hovered over the waters way way before ‘the beginning’ as us humans know it, which was present at creation, which God breathed into man to give his body life…there is a reason why the Spirit of God is present when we pray. Its because when we pray our spirits are in communication with God, who is Spirit..and He comes to that place of prayer to inhabit the prayers and praises of His people.



Since God’s nature is Holy, His holiness is a constant! He. Is. Holy. It does not change. It does not increase or decrease. It does not go anywhere. It is a living, breathing, life-giving thing, with them that pray, in them, whether its two people or a million, and His holiness changes EVERYTHING!



Therefore, just because a song contains the name Jesus, or God, don’t make it holy, right? Its the Spirit behind a thing that makes it holy or unholy. Not everyone who goes to church is saved. And not everyone gets saved in church. I didn’t get saved in church. Does that make the experience less valid because I did not partake of a rite of passage at church?


No ritual, no rites, nothing makes a place holy. These things are a crutch that man needs to get on and live by, to feel like he is doing something. God does not need a ceremony to be in a place or in someone. All He needs is to be invited in.


God makes people holy. By association, that Spirit which inhabits people is what makes a place and/or a gathering holy. This is the reason why a Church building may be said to be holy, because God will most likely be invited in there. And its the same principle behind the fact that a club may be said to be unholy because people going to a club are not really thinking about God there(that is probably an



This is why there is no such thing as an ordinary prayer meeting. Except you are trying to tell me that God is ordinary. Or that the Spirit of God is ordinary. Ha!



Christians need to learn to stop fighting and discriminating against each other. I keep telling my friends that when Jesus comes, He won’t come to take the Assemblies of God Church to heaven. Or the Anglican Church. He will take individuals, individual spirits, if you like, who have worshipped Him in truth and spirit. Whether they belonged to big churches or small churches or no churches.


No one genuinely Christian way of worship is better than another. Why Christians fight for superiority over each other is beyond me. That ain’t even Christian. Smh.


There is a name for people who think that everyone else who isn’t in their own little group, who don’t do things the way they do it or the way they think it should be done, is wrong. Its found in Galatians 5v19-21.


Let’s not get it twisted. The pulse of Holiness is found in man, because the Spirit of God lives in man. Not because one church institution is better than another.


Toh. I am out. Not for too long though. wink



She picked up her phone to call, heart racing, ears pounding. They hadn’t spoken in weeks. Pride made them unable to reach out for each other, even though they were hurting. So much water had passed under the bridge…

Will he even answer?She wondered. Anxious…gosh, what to say, even! Panicked, suddenly wondering why she was even calling..but,oops! Too late! She heard his voice..

‘Hey! Been really busy..What’s up now’? He asked. So casually. As if we spoke only yesterday. As if she was just an ordinary friend.

‘Im fine’ she shrilled. Voice too tiny, too tense. ‘Are you still very busy?’ she asked,suddenly at a loss. 

‘Yes I am’, he replied. Sounding a little terse. Cold.

‘Alright, just wanted to know how you were doing..take care! Bye!’ she chirps.

The line disconnected even before she was done talking. Thirty-one seconds on the timer.

She’d always hated that-how he always seems like in a hurry to get off the phone. Was he this way with  just me, she wondered? Or is he this way with every one else?

Oh God, why am I even agonizing about this?? Why did I even call? Sobbing,she lay on the bed. Tears filling her throat. Hurt filling her heart. This Oh-So-Familiar pain. Why, why, why???



He saw her. He knew she would hurt afterwards. He felt her pain even as she felt it. He felt her let down, he knew her deepest longings. And he knew that she would cry to Him-suffering brings you to the end of yourself, where you realize that God is ALL you have. He knew she would come with the pieces of her, shattered.


Why won’t you be patient, my child?He asks, after her heart’s bare,raw before Him. Why do you not trust me, my child?He asks, His voice full of sorrow. Am I not your friend? Have I not stood by you through those times? When you failed that exam, did I not comfort you? Did I not remind you that you are smart? Strengthen you to try again? When hatred threatened to consume you, because your uncle betrayed you, did I not call you to myself? Did I not soothe your aching heart with the balm of my love? When he treated you like a whore-when he used your body and beat down your mind, your will, was it not I who picked you up and lifted your head and made you beautiful again? Was it not I who restored your dignity, your self worth?


Why do you forget so quickly, my dear?

Why do you seek the love of the one who does not know how to love you? Who does not care even, to learn how to love you? Do you forget that I crafted how you need to be loved in my own heart? I LOVE YOU! Do you not see that?


My yoke is easy, child. My burden is light. Do you forget so quickly the peace you have when you are thinking of me? When your heart’s thinking of ways to please me? Do you forget the spring in your steps, darling, the love shining in your eyes, the joy trilling forth from your voice, when your heart is loving mine?


Why do you have such a penchant for worry, my love? My heart delights when your heart’s bursting with love! When there’s a smile in your every word. When its all you can do not to be happy!


Why, child?


Come, child. Its warm here. Rest. Sleep in the comfort of my arms. Rest in my embrace. Please, let me hold your hand. Let me kiss your nightmares away. Let me love you. Let me heal your aching heart. Let me dry your tears. And afterwards, let’s take a walk. Together.



*Written on October 2nd, 2012. At a time when my life was falling apart.

But it fell apart to come together again, God’s way. Not mine.

I was reminded of it today, again.

Sometimes…there needs to be a falling apart for a coming together.

In whatever situation.*






‘I believe in God, and I know He is God and can do all things. However, I also believe He has given us knowledge so that we can make informed decisions based on this knowledge. Let us not tempt God in our decisions. Some things cannot change. What can God do?’-excerpt,paraphrased.

Not tempt God?
What can God do?

I felt betrayed. It was like a sucker punch to my gut. It literally took the wind out of my sails.

After crying and yelling and railing, I went back to thinking. Decided to find out the meaning of tempt. Here’s what I got:

Tempt-To entice to do wrong by promise of pleasure or gain.
To induce to do something.
To risk provoking.

Going further, I checked the meaning of provoke.

Provoke-to incite to anger-both from the Merriam Websters Dictionary of the English language.

Now….what can God do?
Wow…hmmm….a question that a lot of us have asked(with our actions). How?
When we are impatient,having bought into the ‘now’ culture which has pervaded the secular world and now intruded and taken over our Churches,the need for instant gratification evident when we go ahead to venture into a business deal without His backing or endorsement,because it looks like it may yield immediate profit.

The craze that has become picking out a life partner by ourselves,without waiting for Him to bring who He has prepared for us.

The way we forget to pray when we get ill.

Looking to others-people like you and I,running this same race of life, for validation. And despising them when they cannot provide that which only God can.

In each way we turn to our selves first,our money,our friends, our families(first), what we are really doing is asking God what He can do.

I’d never heard the words put so succinctly before and they sounded so blasphemous to my ears,so I recoiled in horror because, hypocrite that I am( I am really no better because I had only subconsciously thought it amd not voiced it), I thought,for just a minute there,that I was better. And I asked the stupidest question ever. ‘How can you say such a thing?’
But the real question should have been ‘what CAN’T He do?’

And in that second,I realised why the statement ‘don’t tempt God’ had always grated.

Don’t tempt God? How,exactly? How can us,mere humans do that? Seduce Him?(I guffawed at the thought) By inducing Him to do something?
Me,incite God?

We make Him too small.

Is there anything that He doesn’t already know? Is there anything you want to ask that He didn’t lay in your heart? Is there anything you want to ask that hasn’t been asked? The desires and wishes of man haven’t changed from creation and the fall of man. God has been dealing with our kind since for ever.

Since when does faith provoke God to anger?

Since when is believing the very nature,the very essence of God wrong?

Because if believing the impossible is tempting God,I might as well resign to tempting Him my whole life. The idea of a man who died two thousand years ago being the salvation of the whole world is ludicrous,really,based on common knowledge.

But it isn’t knowledge that pleases God. Faith is.

So there.


There is contrast.

I’ve been reading the book of Ezra in the last few days.  Today I got to the part where there was a report about the Israelites getting married to pagan women(anyone who did not worship the God of Israel was referred to as pagan),and in most instances having children by them.

If you are familiar with some of biblical history, you will know that, in those days, God gave strict orders that the Israelites must not marry outside of Israel. This is because marriage is supposed to be an ‘integrater'(I don’t think that is a proper word but i’m using it anyway ;p).When you marry someone, you marry their hopes, dreams, likes , loves, belief systems. Essentially, you get stuck with everything-warts and all..hehehe.
And so marrying pagan women meant marrying their gods and ways. And their practices, which were said to be detestable to God.

Essentially, in God’s books, they were unfaithful to Him because they would have worshipped the gods of these pagans. And we know how God felt about idols. How He still feels about idols.

So, the anger of God burned against them. Fiercely. They were killed,robbed, captured.
When Ezra found out about this, he was devastated. Appalled. He sat in ashes in mourning. An assembly was called. The people confessed. And after confessing, as a sign of reconciliation, of godly repentance, an agreement was reached to divorce their pagan wives and send them away.


This was taking the moral high ground, for certain. The suffering and the injustice of it all..and why should the children have to pay for this? Divorce is NEVER a good thing. Never.  It seems too much a price to pay, really.

And yet, it was a strict decree from God..and his decrees take no prisoners.  Its either you do it or you don’t.  Either you fully obey, or you don’t.  All or nothing. His way or the highway. You get nowhere by sitting on the fence.

Faith is like that,you know. Taking the high road. Fixing your eyes on something only you can see. Faith literally eschews reality. Faith is NOT reality. Having faith is completely unrealistic. Anyone can and will believe in what they see. Faith…that is a completely different matter o. Because, like I said earlier, you get nowhere by sitting on the fence. You either have faith, or you don’t.

So, if we can profess to have faith;take the high road, fixing our eyes on what we say we believe and essentially ignoring everything else, not compromising until the evidence of things unseen is right there before us, then the flipside of the coin is, treating the decrees of God as such.
No compromise. No reasoning it out. No justifying. 
The decrees say, don’t steal. Don’t fornicate. Don’t lie about your neighbor.  Don’t gossip. Love.

Just fix your eyes on what you must do and don’t reason it out.

Afterall, when you are having faith and expecting God to respond, you don’t really expect him to reason it out. You honestly, really and truly expect Him to answer. If you are like me, you want Him to answer in the way you envisioned it in your head.

Sticking to and obeying the commands and wishes of God is its own form of faith. Its having to believe that,even though it seems okay to do these things, He had to have had a good reason for saying I shouldn’t.  And I’m choosing to focus on that reason even if I don’t completely understand it. #thinkaboutit.

And that is really and truly faith,friends. That’s the fear of God. That’s #nobullshit Christianity.

PS-very glad to be back and blogging. Very long hiatus- Your girl almost died. But that is a story for another day 🙂

It, then.

The time I am most at rest in my life is when I am reading something. It may be an eagerly anticipated book, an interesting article or an old, well worn but loved novel that I must’ve read over and over(some books just do that for me). No academic stuff though. .lol…but really, reading is what I do for rest. For leisure.  Reading is what I do when I am at peace with myself and with the world. Reading is what I do when I’m happy. Reading is what I do to get happy-being invited into the mind of someone else is utterly fascinating.

When im distressed, when I’m involved in an argument with someone I love(arguments upset me more than I can ever say), when I’m worried, and I pick up a book and find that I can’t concentrate, then I know for certain that whatever it is that’s happening has really and truly stolen away my peace.

I can’t tell you how many times that has happened. You probably know what im talking about.

Peace. Much coveted commodity in our hearts, in our homeS,and by extension, in our world-you only have to look at Maiduguri,or Syria, to know for certain that peace is an expensive, sought out commodity.

We all know what it is not to have peace. A difficult boss. An exam that has caused us not to get a promotion. Bills that remain unpaid for one reason or another.  A boyfriend who demands unreasonable things. Children who just won’t act right.(You can insert here what takes away your

On Sunday,pentecost,I thought of what it must have been like to be a disciple of Jesus in the period that he died. The Roman soldiers would’ve looked everywhere for them-to eliminate all traces of Jesus and this strange new cult that was threatening to emerge-nothing should be a threat to Caesar’s rule, and this Jesus preached some sort of Kingship. The Jewish leaders had their own motives-this Jesus brought  some sort of apostasy on a grand scale!
By default, this followership had to be squashed. I imagine there would’ve been some price money on each of the heads of the major players and all affiliated to them.

Huddled in that inner room upstairs, whispering and frightened for their lives, probably wondering if the last three years with Jesus was worth this trouble, remembering all his talk about going to Jerusalem and dying and wondering why the bloody man had to be so damn mysterious with all this His talk(I would’ve been exasperated with Jesus,to be honest)missing him so much and wondering if they would ever see him again, maybe at some point or the other, whispering a word or two of prayer, but mostly reminiscing about this man who had changed their lives on a scale that even they at the time could not fully comprehend….

…..and suddenly,a hush falls over the room.
There he is. Standing, probably with a slightly playful,slightly mysterious expression on his face.

Peace be with you, He says.
And their hearts are suddenly full and empty at the same time. Full! Bursting at the seams with joy, happiness and this PEACE they’ve been craving,the kind that only this man-God could give.
And empty…! Wonderfully empty of this..fear, this anxiety that they’ve been carrying about.
Because, you see,apart from this peace, he gave them the Holy Spirit. As a matter of fact, they went hand in hand. And once they embraced this Holy Spirit, their lives changed on a scale that,like the domino effect,has caused ripples upon this very day. Those fearful, weak men became,seemingly overnight,powerful courageous men, who couldn’t keep silent about the wonderfulness of this man who they had been with.

Peace. And with peace, courage.

Courage may very well be the absence of fear,then, if what happened to the disciples is anything to go by. Because, these timid men who literally scattered in the wake of Jesus’ arrest became,only a few years later, men who bravely gave their lives for this Jesus.

I don’t see any fear there.

Courage. The absence of fear. Jesus came and breathed this peace. This peace that dispelled the fear. This Spirit that gave courage.
And so I say to you. Peace.  #theJesusway.#theonlyway.

April 20 Twale.

And so I’m returning from the female ward, after being called(unnecessarily) to review a patient whose blood sugar is high and is refusing to come down, whom I have already reviewed earlier today, mind, and written out instructions, informed the nurse, who didn’t inform the nurse who had called me, which therefore, invalidated the need for her to call me, and i’m making my way back to my apartment, after making sure all was done that was necessary, when AnE-the most dreaded unit to call you when you are on call, I might add, calls me to review a patient.

I do an about turn-and just as I am getting to the AnE, I see a woman, on the floor beside a cab, legs wide open, and…Oh Lord! I see a baby’s head! Her baby’s head! Her baby is about to be delivered right there on the floor!!

I grab a pair of gloves from the nurse, while he tries to fish for the scissors from the autoclave with which he will sever the umbilical cord, while the porters and attendants are scrambling to screen this lady off because she says that she is too tired to move to the appropriate place to deliver her baby. We move her back into the back-seat of the cab, ask her to hold on to the hand-rails of the car and PUUUUUSSSSSHHHH!! And with one final powerful effort, her beautiful, perfect, tiny little girl is born! Wailing at the top of her lungs, too! Oh, that beautiful sound of new life!

Cord severed, Placenta delivered, Baby fingers and toes all counted and Baby cleaned five minutes later, I take baby up to the baby unit,with her mommy being wheeled in right on my heels.

I go back downstairs, to AnE, and on reaching there,I find out that calling me was in error. I wasn’t really needed in AnE, it turns out.

Or was I?

What are the odds, people? What are the odds that I was going to be there, the exact moment, the exact hour? I had been delayed from going to the female ward when I had been called initially, so I went there about ten minutes later. If I had gone in at the time I was called, there would have been a delay in getting to the AnE because I would’ve already returned to my apartment, in which case, more distance would have had to be covered in order for me to return to AnE when the nurse called me(as opposed to the fact that I only had to do an about turn while returning to my apartment earlier). The AnE nurse was the only one there at the time, and he had his hands full dealing with another patient. The Obs and Gyne doctor had her hands full upstairs, too. I have only just finished my Obs and Gyne rotation, but i’m currently in Medicine. Yet I was called to review a patient who had already been reviewed by the casualty officer in AnE.

What cosmic force arranged this? Who is in charge of these tiny, little details, these events that are so small in the grand scheme of things but Oh-so-important??? What cosmic force would not let this precious, tiny little tot to be snatched away by death this afternoon, this wonderful little one who was also born on the birth-date of my precious mother?

The fool says in his heart, there is no God. And saying here, friends, does not necessarily mean the act of speaking by mouth. Its in actions. The things we do or don’t do.


God, people. God. Chukwu. Osolobuwe. Allah. Kabiyesi. Oluwa. Olorun. Elohim. Elyon. Shen. Baha. Jehovah. Yahweh. Olodumare. Amba. Baya. Abasi. Duruma. Abrie. By whatever name you choose to call Him, in whatever language, GOD. Nothing escapes His notice. Nothing is beyond Him. Master-planner, Master dramatist(you have to admit this was pretty, Master-everything. Even when things seem like they are spiraling out of control, He is a THERE force. That cosmic force, but so much more than just that. That tiny voice that whispers in your head and guides you in the way to go, but Oh, so much more than that.

Books cant contain Him, but he resides in my little heart.

And when He calls(and He will use any means necessary to call, like something as ordinary as using the AnE nurse’s phone), and you answer, it is ALWAYS worth it.

My man thinks that God, in His God-way, is trying to tell me something. Or some things. Hmm 🙂 I’ll just sit here, quietly, and hope that I can be still to KNOW. 🙂

God. He needs no introduction. My knees are on the ground. My heart, too. #AndThatIsAll.

*AnE-Accident and Emergency unit.

Obs and Gyne-Obstetrics and Gynecology, a branch of Medicine which deals with the care of pregnant women and overall care of the female reproductive system.

‘On call’-To be expressly available at anytime of the day or night, as a Doctor to review any patients in the unit you work, within the stipulated hours you will be at work,outside of the government stipulated work hours.*


….There is nothing wrong with wanting to be like God. Nothing blasphemous,or ambitious about that. We are made in His image and likeness-it is therefore,only a natural desire. It is why human beings are the only ‘creators’ in the whole world-Animals can create nothing. We are hard-wired to create because God who is our maker is The Creator. Its why technological, biochemical and biological creations will never cease to stun and surprise us.

Its the way we go about it that may be suspect, though. Eve ate the fruit of the tree of good and evil because she wanted to be like God. The problem with that though,was that she disobeyed God,to try to be like Him. Its like wanting to please your parents by passing your exams, but instead of studying to pass,you cheat on your tests. I’m assuming that your parents are reasonable people and want you to learn not only about the value of passing,but ultimately about the value of hard work ie- studying to pass. You would have passed that exam,but would have disobeyed your parents in the manner you passed.

Its the same principle at work here. God is the Creator. We can ONLY be like Him by His own rules. His own way. Not by anything we can fathom,or fashion.

Let’s Fight,Shall We?

Perhaps we should all just make a unanimous decision to start a civil war. I’m assuming we would be the first country to do that- Decide to go to war,before war makes the decision for us. Yes, let’s set up military posts, to register our men, 18 and above, to hurriedly train them in the art of war, to put weapons in their hands and give them free rein to their blood lusts. We have all the ingredients at hand-hatred, tribalism, ethnic violence, religious intolerance, jungle justice, unrest, and an abundance of ignorance, political ill will and greed. Did I neglect to mention shortage of food and water, shortage of light, lack of access to health and amenities, and most of all, a celebrated lack of patriotism that celebrates itself in blaming ‘the government’ for every single mishap, while absolving ourselves of our gross corruption-on every level? Yes, there’s that, too. Let’s bring it aaaaallllll together and concoct a wonderful war brew.

At least in this case, we would have mobile phones, cameras, ipads and mini’s-all kinds of media equipment made available to man. We have access to all the social media-facebook,twitter and the like would be set ablaze by the arguments and discourses for and against the war. We would have everything in pictures, videos and audio-nothing will be left to the imagination. This won’t be like the first civil war,where there were no records, no ‘official’ history of a war which has affected our country so deeply and has been left unspoken about, undocumented and un-taught in schools. A civil war whose various and varied accounts are, at best, full of emotions and hearsay,and mostly lacking in objectivity. A civil war which, when brought up, brings up incredible stores of vitriol and angst, because the right measures have not been put in place to address this issue properly, to cool the tempers of the aggrieved,and to help us, the children of the Nigeria after the civil war to understand,and avoid those same mistakes.
No, an elephant has lived in the room for as long as forever and the best everyone can do is ignore it. Those who have attempted to take up the herculean task of discussing it have been accused of varied crimes-attachment to the past, leaving those ‘sort of things’ as they are, and not wanting a unified Nigeria.


Perhaps, if we just agree, in one unified voice, to this, the Boko Haram insurgents, the suicide bombers, the looting and senseless killings,the violence and corruption and greed that seems so inherent in the nature of the ruling party and the populace, the general note of discordance that is so palpable in this so called ‘one Nigeria’ will end.

Let’s all agree to start a civil war, shall we? In unity and faith,for peace and progress, let’s come together,in one accord,to achieve something. Maybe at some point,hopefully not a point where we can’t return from, men will REALLY turn to God, and ACT, and not just sit down in Churches and/or Mosques and in their homes, pretending that they are advocates of one Nigeria while not really doing anything different(until,of course,the violence personally touches them or a member of their family) in their places of work or sphere of influence to stop corruption and injustice. Deceiving ourselves into thinking that if we don’t work in the government we can’t do anything in our own little area to cause Her to progress.

Let’s. Let’s blow up our military bases and riddle our houses and hospitals with bullets. Let’s raze down our settlements and blow up our government buildings. Let’s loot our markets and homes,and generally live in a lot more disorganised society than we already are. Let’s sacrifice whatever progress we’ve made as a democracy(whatever that represents in the Nigerian parlance) and go back to before square one. Let’s all live by the sword(guns,acid,bombs,machetes, whatever your sword is).

Let’s teach our children any and all forms of intolerance, and let’s educate them on how profitable prejudice is.

Maybe when this war comes,we will all heave collective sighs of relief.

A Letter for my Osolobuwe

For a while, Lord, perhaps all week, i’ve been filled with..vague disquiet. I’ve grappled with regret about a lot of things. Perhaps, for longer than that, maybe the whole year, in my hours of quiet-in the hours before dawn, before I have to be up and about, attending to the demands my world makes of me, i’ve wondered what my purpose here is. Maybe because i’m getting older? Maybe because the year is drawing to a close? I really do not know. I’ve examined my life as a person disconnected, dissociated from myself. I’ve struggled with being who you say I should be-often times failing, and with effort, rising back up to continue.

But perhaps, there lies the problem-struggling in my own strength?

As long as I’ve known, i’ve been taught to believe in you-the one true God. I’ve been taught to fear you. The one who created me, who formed me and knows me even more than i’ve known myself. The one who knows my thoughts before I think them, who knows exactly what i’m capable of. Who provides, who protects. The one I owe my very existence to-beginning from the very air that I cannot see,to water,whose formulation scientists cannot exactly recreate,no matter how hard they try.

I’ve had my doubts about You growing up though. What kind of God are you? Would You who has professed to be Love allow all the pain I see around me?Would You who professed to be love let an innocent baby die of AIDS, or let a ten year old be abused by her brother? You say you are concerned about the little intricate details of my life, yet you would let me ache with so much pain sometimes, I have thought I would die from it. You who say you love me, yet are silent more times than I care to count, in the face of my loneliness, worry and distress-when I need you the most.
You leave me with the uncertainty of not knowing the exact path my life would take.
Most of all,You who profess to love me has left me with this thing you call Free will-a thing i’ve often wondered whether I really need. You act as though your hands are tied by your principles-why give me free will, then? Since you know the heart of every man, you know who will rape who, and who will kill whom, why let it happen, Lord? We hurt each other when we cheat, when we lie, when we are greedy and selfish-and hurting ourselves hurts You-yet you stand there, seemingly helpless to stop the pain and the hurt. Does pain amuse you?
Why can’t you just let us know, Lord? Is it better for people to keep putting their faith and trust in fake pastors and prophets, in fortune tellers, clairvoyants and dibias, in astrology and palm reading? These people-and things who pretend to foretell the future-a future that only you know? These mediums who only gave a false semblance of hope?
You create us with a hunger, with the desire to control what goes on around us, then ask us to love you and trust you that we cannot see or touch?

I’m not sure if I was taught to love you. You are God. All mighty. All everything. What do you need my love for? You made me. I should do whatever you want or say-out of obligation. Love has nothing to do with obedience…not so?

But it is precisely because you are Love that you’ve left me with this, isn’t it? Free will. You, the Creator, me, the created, free,to love and adore my Creator-or not. To pay homage-or not.

Of all your creatures, i’m the one you chose to be allowed to choose if I want to be subject to my creator. I’m the one you chose to fill with your Spirit.
How can you be contained within me-flesh, full of lies and deceit-how can this be the jar you choose to fill up with your power?

I don’t understand you, God. I’ve often times thought that you were quite mad. Often times, i’ve looked in your word, and i’ve found you to be a big paradox. You are a God of justice, but you are also merciful. You are a good of war, but you love peace. You are all knowing, all seeing, all encompassing, all everything. Nothing escapes your watchful eye-not my silent tears, or the collective groaning of humanity under the weight of sin and evil. Not the little boy torn away from his parents in his youth because of wars, or famine, sometimes forced to take up arms in wars he has no business with. Nothing escapes you, Lord. You know and see everything. You OWN everything. Including me.

Yet you want my love-of all things! Your heart craves it!
How? How can anyone as imperfect as me render love unto a perfect God?What sort of God would want love from me??
And, as if that isn’t confusing enough, this one thing that you desire, you decide to give me free rein whether to give to you or not.
Loving You isn’t obligatory, then. I get to choose. Because,unlike everything else, You don’t own my love.

This is what baffles me.

You woo me for this love. Shamelessly. Like a heartsick woman, like a man in love. Even when I’ve scorned you, chasing my own desires and pleasures, you’ve refused to give up.. And like a girl doing shakara, hoard it from you I have. Even when you have shown me the extent of your love-at least shown me what my little mind can take, i’ve thrown it in your face in numerous ways. I’ve wanted to be loved only on my own terms-never mind that what and how I feel are not necessarily barometers of truth or common sense. You want my trust so that you can help run my life and make sure that everything good comes to me-because you know my end from my beginning-yet, even when I wrestle with you for it, you won’t demand it. You want my obedience-so that I can relax in your will and purpose-after all, who knows the purpose of something more than the one who created it? Yet you allow me to do whatsoever I please. You are content to pursue me,doggedly, determinedly, even when I busy my life with unnecessary things, even when I try to drown you out with the constant humdrum of life.

You let me break your heart so many times by my blatant unfaithfulness to you- when you can very easily take me out with a snap of your fingers. You chose to pour your love into me-traitorous, flimsy creature like me! Why, God? Are you so addicted to abuse that you let me do this over and over, and still accept me, used, battered and broken every single time I crawl back?

What kind of God are you, God?

And yet, when I turn to you, my strength is renewed. My hope is replenished. The light in my eyes return. The spring in my step..the joy in my heart…My heart expands and blossoms with so much love. You are there, ever present, to cry with me when I fall and blunder from not listening to you. When I choose to act like a goat or a mule- stubborn, proud, unyielding, you are still patient with me. You pick me up, when I get to the end of myself-when my pain and my suffering drives me right back to You, when I realize-often belatedly, that no one else can love me the way you can, can fill me up the way you do, can make me the person that I ought to be.

I’ve heard it said that in love, what you leave unattended to deteriorates. With you, even when I leave you and pursue other gods-the gods of knowledge and intellect and beauty, of power, pleasure and riches, these gods who satisfy the hunger I feel but only temporarily, who love me only on their own terms(which are, as long as I remain slave to them)whenever I crawl back to you, I find your love to be exactly as it was-perfect ,stable and undiminished by my stupidness and shortsightedness.

You give me so much more than any other gods can.

You prevail.

Precisely because you are God. You are this kind of God. The only kind of God-the one I can’t understand. My faithful lover.

You have taught me about trust-In the darkness of my life, you have whispered your love, you have erased my guilt, and my shame. you have given me your strength. You have brought me up and out of the place of bitterness,anger and rage that I have been in for so long. You have exchanged my fear for faith. Even in my pain, you have converted and used for my good. Even in the hours of doubt, you never leave. You surround me with your presence. Undeserving as I am. Through regret, suffering, and sorrow, you have humbled me,and brought me to my knees, repentant, hungry for your light, and for your love. In serving me, making me Your own, in cleaning up my mess, and taking up my shame, you teach me what it truly is to serve.

I don’t understand you, God. But I am learning to trust. To lean on you. To focus on your Who-ness, so that my Whys don’t hold as much importance. Because the victory isn’t in struggling in my own strength, is it? My struggle remains because I use my limited understanding of what I think you should be to measure who you are. As if I could limit you to my paltry understanding of You. Smh.
No, Its in resting in You-even when my world is falling to pieces. Because nowhere else is as safe as within your embrace. No other voice is as sweet, as soothing as yours. No other words spoken anywhere by any man or woman, can be as loving as the ones you speak in Your word. The one you whisper to my heart when it is so full of doubt-if I will but listen.

You placed the stars in the sky and You know them by name.
Is there anything I have that you have not given me? Beauty, brains, wit. All gifts. The act of learning to trust, to believe, is a gift. From you. All from you.
You know my name.

And that is enough.