A Love above All

Real talk guys.  This week I have been forced to accept the truth about how I love, and I realized that I know even little about love than I thought I did.

Through the word of God, we get an Insight on the love of God, we see how he walks with us and does not discriminate, but most especially we learn about how he forgives us even before we ask, in fact even before we turned away from him, and then we may want to compare it with the conditional, materialistic love that human share. Indeed, we have a long way to go in order to be Christ-like.

As stated in the beginning, I want to keep it real. If holding grudges were a course in school, I would get a A++.  Unfortunately for me, I happen to be really good at it, and this exactly the toxic energy I am trying to rid from my life.  The word of God says; Guard your heart and I hear him whisper to me especially saying; Idara, for your sake, guide your heart. This is no coincidence because anger is a desire of the flesh, and what I do is that I give people three chances of redemption, after the chances are used up, they become dead to me. No matter how deep our friendship is,  I could slowly erase anybody like we didn’t know each other for over fifteen years. I am so good at it and it hurts me so much because that is not the person I want to be anymore.

I want to take an example from my Lord Jesus Christ, this was someone who was persecuted solely because he created the world, and loved his creation. I see God’s amazing love in my life every time because it is in his nature, and if Christ could love me just for being me, then I could love everybody for being themself. Right now, I am in the headspace where I know that  I need to consciously place God’s love over self-love, and flee far far away from unforgiveness, and anger.

At the end of the day, it all boils down to pride, the seed that sprouts stubbornness in my heart. For the most part, I am an extremely sensitive person, so I use pride, or rather pride uses me to make up for it but the truth is, I just want to lay it down at the cross of my saviour, and walk away with nothing attached to me. I need God’s love like I need to breath and I need to love like God, for if not for his love, my life would have been over before it even began.


A love above all

Never-ending beauty of renaissance

To err is human,  for forgiveness is divine.


Speaking of redemption, the Super eagles came through today at the world cup. Ahmed Musa is the only  Nigerian player with the most goals in world cup history. Let’s keep it up.


The Age of Loneliness

A famous adage says, “True friends are like stars you don’t always see them but you know they are always there”.   Not to be a cynic but I think that quotes like this should be up for debate, and it probably has.

The truth about friendships is that it is in fact subjective.  It is based on factors such as the frequency of communication,   mutual activities shared, and most especially, the gains of the camaraderie, this could range from wanting a Yes girl/ wingman to needing company because we were in a place we thought we couldn’t escape from till we did. Eventually, that bond came tumbling down the wall of Jericho. Kinda like an endergonic reaction. Albeit, in group settings, the tension be slightly defused—Most times.

Fortunately for me, I have come across wondrous people that embodied the apparent role of love and patience. Unfortunately, I just came across them. For the most part, I have convinced myself that there is only a 7% chance that I have an antisocial disorder, but I can bet that 55% of the time, I understand people and will dissociate myself if ever I sense obscurity.  My problem is I would always rather be myself. I assume that is a fairly adequate reaction to bullshit.

However, as much as my ego-syntonic-self hates to admit, I will not be good for everyone, people could dislike me for varying reasons. The truth is that it feels like a stake is repeatedly rammed into my chest when friends leave, but my zen shouldn’t have to be sacrificed.

I  love love, and friendship quotes et cetera, but the cinematic wonder in storybooks and fairy tales is notoriously uncommon, for me at least; It may seem sad, but I’d rather reveal my truth than polish my face with deceit, after all, I’ve never been good with makeup.



Entree  nous

Viridian jewel in thine mouth

Vixen to the core

Consolidating solitude in a foyer

wishing a single prayer


Whom amongst us is pure enough

Confrontation being a con

Confluencing with the Ego

Trust never more  earned

A path all but one claim to walk


The turntable spins Cinema Paradiso

Quickening our gilded fix

Intoxicated with the age of loneliness

And all it’s fathomless wonders

An unlikely exergonic reaction.

The Chase



Dawns break between Viola Blv. and Kamilla

Coming into full view

The miracles of new week sprouts.

One final stride I convince myself

Quicken each step or risk getting run over

Fleeting heels strike the dust

Hastening pulse





sweat dons my brow

Adrenaline overdrive on steroids

the wind softens my chin

The air is quiet

Too quiet.





Wilding Littering street lights

Traps of resentment in every corner

Something good must happen

Even now




The Hunger Games have begun

Confronted by the roar of past warriors

Restrained by shackles heavier than dumbbells

Even the tiniest of ants challenges my stamina

Endorphin overflow




God’s grace surely comes through

exceeding expectations

Defeating limitations

Blessed be his name





Pulse weakens to tempo

everything comes to a halt

Leave it all at the end of the road



I survived.

Yet the relic aphorism holds true

The catch is seemingly mundane

Compared to the chase.


The last time I heard from Gemima,  she told me I was fiercely rebellious and we were polar opposites. Alas after several monsoons, here she is serenading me the same tune. She says she’s evolved, that she never gave up. She’s telling me she failed me when she seized believing in us. Gemima tells me that each night she spent away from me made her  bones frail.

With all her vibrant hues, Gemima says the valley spoke to her, the only language she could understand. Her glassy eyes wander far into the distance, to shadows of climaxing eagles.

She says I was her hero, a sight for sore eyes

I quiver from her lingering gaze, her trembling hands found mine. Her grip reminds me of everything I let go. My cheeks fluster and I wonder if she still cares for me. Her ebony skin glistens below the vantage sun, revealing new tribal inks.

I imagine her to be my Tutu, only more regnal. Perhaps Beethoven reveled on her physique when he composed that daringly magnificent medley.

I know her inside-out, and she could discern every needling thought of my densely silent mind. She could never meet my gaze, her guilt wouldn’t allow.  Even as my breasts rested on her supple thighs, eons of heartache resonate in her. This time around, I hope I make her speechless too.

18 years have passed, yet she’s found her way back to me as though our blood echoes insouciantly to each other, begging to be sealed in writing. And we love to revel in despair, like the snake and the mongoose.

Retrospectively, I  realize that the bare thread lingering between us is strained beyond repair yet even if the sun drowns in a cloudburst, Gemima creates the tenebrous riptide in my nirvana I can’t help but covet. The scars she left won’t heal for another eighteen years.