Know Thy Worse Self

We’ve all heard it. We’ve watered it. And it’s grown, and it’s growing faster than innovation. It is the voice of destruction. The one who wants to kill you. The one who will stifle you, and choke you to death without justice.

I’ve listened to it whine, all my life. It’s told me how senseless I am. That I’m too dumb to ever be taken seriously. I am too weird to ever have a meaningful connection. I am too abnormal, no body could care less if I spoke or not. It said, I might as well blend in with the bland wall and disappear. Worse still, no one would notice if I’m gone.

For a long time I committed to it, it’s presence was seethingly stark in my earlier works.

Most days, I tried to reason with it, I accepted it, then I pleaded with it. Then, I  just disappeared like it told me to.

For a very very very long time, loneliness was in the air I breath, it was all I wrote about.


It wasn’t up to me, it wasn’t in my power. I began to realise how innovative I could be, then how fierce I am.

It’s okay if no one understands what my poetry is about. It’s gibberish, but even gibberish has added meaning to the heart. It’s fine that I’m not a jaunty influencer that everyone can connect with.

I’m weird, I know and nothing can take that away.

Nothing, not even you, the darkest side of my psyche can conquer me. I fight everyday to know my worse self, for only then can I truly destroy the bitch.

Once I had my wings broken, now I’m clawing my way out of darkness.

Letting myself know that I’m stronger for being weak.

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Image: pinterest

I Survived

Yesterday, I thanked God for the lives of my loved ones, today I thank God for mine.

Exactly a week ago, during my daily communication with God, I found myself in tears, praying for life. I didn’t know why but I dwelled on it for some time. I didn’t think much of it afterwards because I could feel that my prayers were answered.

I woke up today with only one intention, to plan the best party for my beloved. At some point I was eager to get things done as quickly as possible. As I was driving on the main road, a Ford from a motor road, I’m guessing he was either in a hurry as well or he was absent-minded.

The next thing I see is  a white car in front of me, swivelling to my left . I was jamming the brake, but at the speed I was going,  it wasn’t enough to completely stop my car.


I stopped, he stopped, I got out and  I could hear myself scream towards him; ” WHY?”

Then I moved the car from the road to a taxi stop, his car engine was completely dead.

The more I think about it, the more I realise that God truly did save my life in more ways than one;

I wasn’t with my phone and I couldn’t call anybody. Worse still, my phone cover has a compartment where I keep my most important cards, including my driver’s license. I had neither on my person.

His car stopped. He had to call a tow company, if that did not happen, he would have left the scene, who have believed a foreign black girl speaking gibberish lango? I asked him to call the police and make pictures of the scene. I think he understood but he waved it away. He was mostly interested in the insurances

I don’t speak the local dialect, everybody that saw the crash went on their way. It could have been very easy for him to pin the fault on me when the police came.

I was also torn about the police involvement especially as I didn’t have my card, and he had told me to call him and his insurance and get money. At that time, I was okay with the verbal alliance but now that I’ve taken time to process it, I’m realising that he was being a wise guy and I was being gullible.

When the police came, I shouted, ” Oh God, why me?”

They turned out to be incredibly helpful although I didn’t have any identity on me. They seemed frustrated with me at first, but they became understanding and supportive.

A good samaritan and his lovely wife gave me a lift home.

Now, as I ask God, “Why me”? It is with a completely different tone. Last Thursday, he told me he will save a life.  Today his word came true , for he kept Mr white Ford  and I safe and unharmed.

You guys, yesterday I was literally talking about the importance of celebrating life. I didn’t even know, but it’s okay because the one who saves sees today and eons into the future.

After posting on social platform, a few people that care asked why I behave like nothing happened to me.

Ok  I’ve made it obvious that  the number uno reason I write is because I don’t know how to process emotions properly, PLUS how can I be wailing and rolling?

Who died?

Certainly not me. Instead, I’m celebrating my life confidently in Jesus today, tomorrow and forever. Thank You Jesus!

Thanks for reading my daily thoughts <3


Every year is the same. when my birthday is looming, I become sad. On my birthday, I start off trying to process my new age, tell myself I will not celebrate it, three hour before midnight, I send an urgent text to my friends to come through and chill.

The reason for that is  growing up I didn’t get to celebrate my birthday often because at first we were poor, then I was always in boarding school or somewhere else, I remember always feeling sad every February 25th, and that translated into my aversion towards it .

Another reason I cringe is when people expect you to celebrate. It becomes about them because of the pressure to make your day stand out. Often times, I find myself wishing that I was born Feb 28th so I won’t have to think about birthdays on a leap year. It would have been  perfectly entwined with my introverted nature, but God has a reason for making me be born when I was.

On the contrary I love when it’s my family or friend’s birthday. I get to try to be funny,  cheerful and make their day the best for them.

Today is my sister’s birthday, my priceless’s sixteenth, I’m exceptionally sad that I’m not there because I do want her to remember this big one as I can’t recall mine, she says it’s no big deal, I think we are kinda the same.  Tomorrow will be my beloveds’ birthday and as always, I’m more siked than him.

When we look deeper, we know that it is the most defining event that marks us humans, the beginning of life, It also reminds us that as humans, we do not have control of when we get to grow older. That sucks.

But it’s not all bad, because life is already hard enough as it is, to make it through one year is a great achievement whether one is two or ninety-two. I choose to see it being one step closer to fulfilling my purpose.

To work on improving upon yesterday, To surmount the low lows and high highs,  To build that dream year in year out. It is truly inspiring, and that’s the epiphany I have every 25th Feb at 9pm. So yea life’s depressing but we’re here now, which means every year God wants us here and that alone is enthralling enough.

With that I say Congratulations to my Priceless, Mfon-abasi. and my beloved, Viktor Czifra. I’m so glad you’re alive for you have made an amazing impact in my life. There is immeasurable blessings waiting for you. In Jesus name. Amen!

A brief Poem…

Gather around children, a’rnd the bon fire

This sweeping gale carries September memories

Reminding us, age is not just a number

Embalmed With it is experience

Greater insight, more strength

On equinox’s moon the spirit scares us all

With tale surmounting  who we were yesterday

Do you hear those baby steps?

Growing clamorous as we evolve

shadowing who are meant to be.

Cute Doggie thread

I was scrolling through twitter and one guy posted a picture of his dog chewing his foot rather than his toys, and wouldn’t you know it the furry little guy went viral.

Not only that,  everybody and their mama began commenting their doggies and their fun personalities that sparked a lot of interaction on the social media, so I’m dedicating this post to our loyal four-legged friends.

Comment on which dog you think has the biggest personality. One love <3

Source: twitter

Melancholy Monday

I woke up today with the cold  blues. It had been raining through the night and I wanted to just sleep and write.  Here’s what I came up with, Let me know what you think in the comments.

Cheers to Melancholy  Mondays!


I wrote a song for you

Though you will never hear it

I made up a story we can live in

Translated shadows into some thing quaint

If you stayed, you’d have seen it wane


The browning of a willow

Reeks of sage and olive wilting away

Giving up it’s power to photosynthesise.

The storm so raw and daunting

will never drown  our melancholic atmosphere.


You remind of the mortality of our being

The passing rain that never dries up.

When I write these personal stories about you, Us

I do it because it’ll transcend  life

I suppose it already has.


Image source: Pinterest


My mother’s thigh were my stepping stone to the world beyond when I was born.

Day in. Day out. I sat there listening, never understanding the sounds from her mouth.

I clung to her bosom, it was all that I had.

I remember my first movie, Elizabeth Taylor being swooped off her feet.

Maybe I could be a damsel in distress in a marble courtyard  someday, I mused.

It was such a  honor to be chosen as a damsel when I was young.

Some night, mom was my enemy, other nights, dad was my enemy.

Both nights I had someone I could confide in, an ally. My brother.

He stood up for me when  I was defenceless.

The hero I’ve never known until the day he became  mute.

The intimacy I had never appreciated until we became estranged.

Not by time, space, barrier, but by words.

I watched him detach, I watched him change.

Before my eyes I saw him become what I could never describe, what he may never be able to explain.

And that day came when I held his hand, I cried and bursted out in anger

He bowed his head for he didn’t want me to notice the creeping duress that was becoming too real.

His unflexible smirk revealed a cold war unfurling within him, he was no more than ten.

When I was born, I clung to my mother’s bosom, it was all I knew .

I knew my knight in shining armor all too well,  until he went missing, hidden inside a conch.

Now, I have even less than I did then, but I have chosen to be a knight to nobody, but him.

He is small and compact but  will always be my ally.

Then I met a man and when I told him this, he told me, “youth is wasted on the young”.

As we steadily approach the third decade of life, I have to admit that perhaps he was right.


Thanks for reading my daily thoughts . Have a lovely weekend and don’t forget to  share your comments and subscribe to get my free ebooks . Much love <3

Image Courtesy:  Silas Onoja on Twitter


Meghan Markle hosts cookbook fundraiser with her mom

Three of them are so cute.

Her mum seems extremely humble and that’s probably where the Duchess of Sussex gets her integrity

…and good looks, y’kno black don’t crack, ehem.

But I gotta confess your girl has  been brooding since the Royal couple officially came out together, I mean I could be 86th in line for the throne too, cut me some slack.

I  believe in an Ideal world, this is what love looks like, transparent and complete.

Good eye Harry!

Unto today’s story….

LONDON (AP) — Meghan Markle was joined by her mother Thursday to launch a cookbook aimed at raising money for the victims of London’s Grenfell Tower fire.

The former actress from the United States, who married Prince Harry and is now the Duchess of Sussex, hosted the reception at Kensington Palace beside her mother, Doria Ragland, to support the cookbook titled “Together.”

The book celebrates the power of cooking to strengthen communities and bring people together.

Harry also attended the event. The book was inspired by Markle’s visit to the Hubb Community Kitchen in North Kensington, which could only open a few days a week for lack of funds.

The cookbook features recipes from women in the community who prepare food to help and heal. The dishes include coconut chicken curry, aubergine masala, caramelized plum upside-down cake and spiced mint tea.

The 2017 Grenfell Tower fire killed 72 people and prompted nationwide calls for tightening building codes and increasing firefighting capabilities for large apartment blocks.



I slept last night watching webinars on how to drive more traffic to my blog and commanding an online presence, I woke up  this morning lucidly dreaming  about how to make sales.

This has been occupying my thoughts for months, I’m unemployed and I need to be independent regardless of my parent’s fortune.

Today during our study session, my German teacher asks me ways I save money, so I tell her that I rather invest than quit shopping or travelling, because that’s just me. I want to take 4 usd and turn it into 8 and then $12 rather than keep $4  in a piggy bank every month.

This caused me to realise just how much I idolize money, I mean every one does, but perhaps some more than others. Later,  I open WordPress and the first article I see is titled; the blessings of brokenness.

I scoffed.

What could this man be thinking to identify brokenness with blessings.  In what Multiverse? Out of curiosity I decided to read the post which began reshaping my POV .

I thought ok, he’s not wrong, but I still need to  make money!

I scrolled through twitter and I find yet another sermon with Joyce Meyer explaining Psalm 63 with her experience, talking about what it means to put God first and be fully satisfied

So I started thinking about why he was bringing these messages my way. All I want to do is become a social media elite and capture subscribers, it doesn’t mean I’m being ungrate….

…..Oh, maybe I’m being a tad impatient in my queries and mission to conquer online marketing

Maybe my vision has shifted from waking up thinking, ” thank you lord,” to “how do I get people hooked on this product.

Maybe I’m too focused  on an evitable future brokeness that I forgot how he’s steered me from tribulations in the past

And maybe, just maybe although I pray and sing praises, at the back of my mind, I am really thinking about the grind.

so I ask him, where do I go from here? should I just quit on everything I’ve been trying to figure out for the past few months?

The first Bible I came across was Mattew 6:34.

I guess it’s settled then. No more moaning about money etc. I will try my best to keep my eye on the cross and continue this  heavenly race I’ve been so fortunate to be a part of.

In hindsight, money doesn’t equal satisfaction. It’ll just tries to replace Christ in our lives which it’ll never be able.

Sure I want to be rich, successful and respected, like everyone but from what I know, I am indeed impatient and this race has phases to it.

In truth, I need to embrace the not-rich, non social media elite Idara because this will be a part of that story that awes the world years from now and bring Glory to his name.

Thanks for reading my daily thoughts.  Leave a comment. Tell us how your day went.

God bless you.



When what we want makes us cry

What we need passes us by

There is a choice;

To  be bitter or thankful

To be covet or grateful

To be appreciative or spiteful.


When we stand on neutral, lukewarm grounds

Hope vanishes like a brilliant  gloss on a winter evening

Our reaction shows what is deserving

Why not forget the vanity and focus on vitality?

Tis our father who steers us from depravity

Tis his wisdom that bears the fruit of greatness.


Okay. It sucks, a lot.

No one can grasp what’s going on

Time has left you misplaced

Regret comes-a-knocking at your door

All you do is look at the flaws in your morality

When you could be on your knees being praiseful.


It takes one. Three. Five minutes

A moment of solemn awareness in your center

To acknowledge your mortality and fragile nature

A silence that stumbles the biggest giant

one that humbles the greatest emperors

As you relinquish  your power.



Do not fight resistant, embrace it

A lot can happen in one. Three. Five minutes

In  one, God can turn your crimson soul to white

In three he can reverse  the destruction of a lifetime

He can rain copious bounty upon your family in five

Be grateful that everything is in his control, if you come to him.




Strangers on A bridge

After the rain, the town bell chimed on that cold morning

Susie stumbled across the street in a drunken daze.

Last night was just one in several that she had collapsed at the tavern.

An ambiguous fog loomed in the street

Her heels clicked on grubby cobblestone

There were  no body in them

No  birds in the sky

no wind in the air

she could barely see ahead.

But then she saw him. A figure sitting on the bridge

when she got closer she saw the fear and loss in his face

He leaned back against the air, and released one hand from the rails

“Don’t!” she yelled

He acknowledged  her presence by reaching for the rails,  like his life depended on it, and it did. “If I do it, every thing will go back to normal”

“No!” Susie who had fully snapped out of her high now and was hyper alert said, “Nothing is worth this”

The man began to cackle which led Susie to conclude that he maybe relapsing from paranoid schizophrenia

She got closer, she noted that he was middle-aged. He was handsome in an eccentric way. “What’s so funny?” she demanded

“Birds don’t know what to do when you have no need for them”, he said, “you won’t understand why I have to do this….”

“What is it? Susie interrupted ,”dead beat dad? or was your mum a pill hoarder? did she hang herself in the middle of your one room flat and left you with starving mouths to feed? No wait! that’s me! so I’d be damned if you tell me I don’t understand.”

Susie was seething with ire, how dare this ruggedly quaint idiot act like his life was hard, enough to fall to his doom when she hadn’t slept on her bed in seven years. Her warm soft bed felt grubby and lonely. If any body should be sitting on the bridge counting down to meet the grim ripper, it should be her.

She rushed towards the bridge and hoisted herself to seat beside him

“Whoo oo there!, the stranger stuttered, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“Talking with you reminded me of how much  simpler life would be if I just disappeared.

“Hey,  I was teasing. Ha ha. I wasn’t really going to do it”, he said jumping down “see, give me your hand. please”

“No! you said it yourself, if I feel this worthless, I probably am”

“look at yourself”, the stranger started, “you  courageous woman, I can’t pull the value from within you, but I can promise you  that it is there, you feel culpable and clearly we’ve got a ton of similar problems that Dr. Jekyll couldn’t fix, So let’s head to the tavern and share a cheroot”.

Susie was both impressed and  hesitant by his aphoristic banter

If you feel no different afterwards, I will personally hoist you up there” , he  vowed

“I guess you’re right”, Susie conceded grabbing his wrist.

He placed his jacket over her shoulders, “the name’s Vickram”

“Susie”, she said staring into his cinereous eyes, risking a smile, “there’s something about you”, she admitted.

“That, dear Susie is called hope”, he said as they disappeared into the fog, towards the direction of  Dean’s tavern