The Bitter truth

I know not about your faith but mine has been far from smooth sailing. You see things were simpler in the mosaic time, more in tuned with the frequency of  human nature.

The law was, “an eye for an eye”. Hate your enemy, love your friends. Then Jesus wiped all that away with his blood and instead gave us the new covenant that teaches us to be  christ like

Thank you Jesus but ehhh, how do I implement this in my daily life?

Half way through Matthew 5: 34-48, I had to do some reflecting, because I know I was guilty, very guilty of a misbalanced spiritual life.

So I said, Ok father, let’s talk. You know I’m selfish, I know I’m selfish. I even refuse to lend to people I hold grudges against, sometimes they’ve probably forgotten about it… but I didn’t.

I decided to freeze the problem at it’s the root

It was simply because I felt like whatever I give away, I will need.

You can notice how wrong that thought process is ( Matthew 6: 19-21). I suppose there are two kinds of people, those who find it easier to  share. And  me.

The Bible coax us to give, even more than we are asked without expecting it back. Pray for those who persecute us. Turn the other cheek, this is the bitter truth.

If you’re on this same both with me, then the two logical steps (which I am taking as well, is to pray for repentance.  Then, make a pact hat whomever will ask you for anything from henceforth, be it money,  a resting place, clothes, bags, whatever it is, you will say Yes, even if it hurts.

He assures me that from then onwards, it will only get easier, and I have faith in his promises.

If I’m not alone on this, then comment and share tips on what you’re doing to improve yourself.

I continue to pray that God brings out the Goodness in my heart and exterminate all greed. Have a blessed day.

It’s cold outside, stay warm.

Beyond theories

What if we

bare as we are

Shallow as could be,

are a body organ

to an aboriginal life form

beyond our science

A wonder of a world beyond reach

 

 

Is it only theories and heresay

or are we prisoners

Could we communicate with our higher self,

With God

If there were no technology. No religion?

 

 

When  you realise

We are but spirits in human drag

Nothing we see is real

We fight everyday for the truth

Within self, Outside self

But in reality, there exist  truth within  truth

Truth beyond this conscious plane

 

 

We are castigated for liberal thinking

Living an ego-shelled parody 

pictures of our lives tucked away as memories

Perhaps we are awake when we are asleep

 

 

Just think!

Everything around you

is a distraction from who you are.

The lies of humanity quenches the elixir of existence

 

 

Memory Box

“A Sacred being in time she is”

 

In  time, her reflection will morph with space. Her mannerism is brisk yet mild. Like the whiff of camphor, memories flood in with no back window,

They stagnate there, never gliding away.

She is always quiet. Slightly hard-headed. Seldomly detached. Never over-bearing. No, never over-bearing. So that she may be worthy of love,

A dream that disrupts her tossing at night.

She’d watched herself grow without changing. Drowning herself in  knowledge and skills. Migrating to new world in search of peace. Sinking herself  in despair, deception and abandonment,

What a cynical admiral of love, she’d become.

At every stage of her evolution. she’d considered herself weaker, so the age to shed her harsh shell drew nearer

 

 

“But what use is counting time. When she, herself is a  representation of it”

 

One puff is all it takes to rouse her biggest critic, even then, the high was not enough to cleanse the crater that lay siege in her salty lungs,

Something else broke inside her.

Expunged of all conditions before the fall. She ponders the bitter sweet moment she lust for, but control eludes her. Hence, she shut her doors, her eyes, and her heart,

Never more to be opened again.

Finally folded her life into a memory box. A day at a time. Delved into past insecurities. Unravelled the spool of her wounds.  She’s sailed through a fluster of change,

And made a stop at every port.

Many-a-night she’d stare out the window. And wish upon Nebula. For abundance in strength. Maybe she grants her wish this time, maybe not,

Only the sardonic hands of time will tell.

They dubbed her, fallen phantom. She is  sacred for nobody taught her the subtle charm of humility. The heritage that cradles her venerated heart,

In her time, she will be extraordinary.

As she nestles her head on cotton clouds, she see the quaintness of this fiction-less mosaic . A moment she clearly wasn’t meant to miss,

The conditions that sets ablaze an estranged part in her precious box.

Earth to Mars

Make up a story

You can live in

Translate it into everything you see

The edgy night, the cloaked stars

It’ll ripple your life over and again

In perpetual cycle

of the present moment

Chiming to a hastened ocean breath

 

 

The less one can see

The more limitless

The mind is programmed to be

The harder it is to stay grounded.

What if I discovered a way

to do both

to go from Earth to Mars

What if.

How are you?

 

“How are you?”

 

He broke my heart, many a times, with the things he didn’t say

I lost my mind, glancing at my phone, daring him to call.

My eyes bled, more often than not, of sweat and dry mucus

The loyalty game is rigged, but really that’s his excuse?

He was the edge to my sword. I was the curve to his bow***

 

*Ring ring*

 

Would you look at that, It’s only took five years

By Pharaoh’s knee he hadn’t changed, that much I could tell

He says, “Aye, regardless of how you feel, let’s just be friends again”

It’s is my fault, I lingered a bit too long on familiar scents

but please go ahead.

 

 

Yes!  tell me how insensitive I was, and how you were the good guy.

The devil must be a six foot tall, hazel eyed childhood friend.

 

 

All the bruises he left,  all the waiting I did

The dawn of my pistanthrophobia

All the fight I had in me has smitten to crisp stardust

Sure I want to go back to when I thought wishes were horses

Believing my horoscope, penning down a song every Friday  night to move on from you

 

 

“So what say you, Ebony queen, how about we fight for us?”

LOL. LOLer. LOLest

He must be inebriated from piss.

 

 

Sure it’d be nice to be 18 again, or whatever

So quickly I’d forgotten his retreating footsteps down a cinder path

His snorty laugh, I thought was so perfect is now a memory

The song I wrote for him is like a worm in my hollow ears

The one that scattered me with writhing pain  now lives in an empty house

 

But whatever.

 

It took a while to rid my tainted blood of your vain addiction

and it took a while to stop being 18

I fought hard to see the pure beauty that you never would

So I’m afraid, it’ll take more than everything you got to clean our slate,

but in the mean time, “how are you?”

 

Image source: Twitter

 

Confessions of a New Born

 

I’m not a prophet, but every now and then I have a prescient, a message that weighs heavy on my heart.

But first I have a confession.

I grew up in  a christian household.  My father being a minister meant for us church once or more times in a week.  This was fine at first, I enjoyed being in the children’s choir, but with time I grew less infatuated with the routine.

I hated not having the choice of going. To worsen things, I was involuntarily a part of the Youth’s fellowship, Hence, I started to rebel .

One day in high school while our economics teacher was singing a tune,  I hummed along, completely unaware. It was a song from a popular christian group. By the time I realised how inappropriate I was acting, he was already searing through his thick rims at me. I  apologised, wondering how mad he must be. Instead, His grim face brightened up and he says, ” One day you’ll be able to sing out loud and not feel ashamed,”.

 

During my last year of High school, a preacher was praying for the graduating students. He later calls me aside and says; “promise me that you will not forget God in the future,”.   I had no idea what he was talking about as I made no plans to leave the tropical shores of my country at the time.

Leaving Nigeria was an exciting period for me. On one hand, I’d never been so far from home. Secondly, it meant freedom, not just from my parents but ultimately from God. I tried to maintain church going for about four months, then I folded up my Bible and forgot about that life. I was 16 at the time.

 

It was fun not living under any rule of conduct, but eventually loneliness surrounded me.

 

Med school was more bloodcurdling  than I anticipated. As a result, I spent 2 extra years, which I never publicly complained about, considering the number of students that drop out each year. Because of this, I always  prayed during the exams period.

In  2017, I reconnected with an old high school friend. We reminisced on old times, on when we’d present the news every Friday. We also got paired up a few times for Bible hour, I’d say the  prayers, and he’d preach.

I told him, I don’t do that anymore, and he seemed genuinely sad to hear it. That Christmas he sent me an ebook titled, “the prayerful woman”. I was swamped with final exams and thesis work, but I made out time to read the book, and it made me reflect on my life choices.

2018. I rededicated my life to Christ, and relinquished the control I thought I had. I’m akin to a new born in the kingdom. Now I  learn everything again. I would say that first, there was, and still is, a purge of Pride, selfishness and jealousy. I’ve also been getting lessons on God’s love and wisdom.

But today, I have something different in my heart, and it says;

“I will turn your weakness into strength, I will turn your enemies into allies”.

I’m sharing this Good news because of the slight chance that you, or even a nation (Nigeria’s election, America’s midterm is coming up) may need it too.

I’d also recommend you read Psalm 139, if your heart leads you to.

So there it is people. I am not a preacher, neither do I want to be! I am but a new born in a  24 year old woman’s costume searching for a her purpose through Jesus christ.

Happy Halloween. God bless you!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

but sometimes I have prophetic dreams

The Root of Nigeria’s problems

“MENTAL SLAVERY IS R.E.A.L”

In today’s episode of “Wetin this one dey yarn?”, I wanna stress on a topic that really hits home.

You may have heard about Nigeria in your local media. A lot of foreigners associate us with Boko haram, religious wars, poor infrastructures and welfare etc, and a lot of foreigners are not wrong.

Permit me to do a throwback and shed a little light on the history of Nigeria.

In 2015, Nigerians voted an incompetent  authoritarian named Muhammed Buhari, into the presidential office. As a result of that, we’ve suffered great losses as a nation.

But wait!  wasn’t it obvious that he was the wrongest candidate to elect? You may ask.

YES!

Six decades ago, after Nigeria became Independent from the British colony, we were subjected to military rule. Whenever a Military leader was not effective, a Coup d’état would ensue, as a result of that, the nation was always on her toes.

In 1983, Muhammed Buhari organized a successful Coup d’état and became the head of Nigeria, albeit,  his reign was one of the dingiest in Nigerian history. He was relieved of power in a bloodless Coup.

The man had no business getting the power in 2015, yet because Nigerians have a ph.D in outstripping their prior misfortunes, oodles of people supported his campaign.

How foolish are the people who don’t learn from experience.

It’s obvious that I hate our current government, nevertheless I prefer to look at the root of problems and deduce a solution rather than allowing my anger overshadow my sense of reasoning.

 

“WHEN WILL THE VICIOUS CYCLE END?”

 

 

From the moment a Nigerian child is born, they are taught to follow the rules. Don’t ask questions, respect the elders as questioning authority is the seed of rebellion that is not tolerated.  This is directly enforced by our primary care takers like our parents, school teachers, and religious leaders.

We grow up being fearful,  far from respectful as though we are still serving slave masters, colonial leaders, Militants. The average Nigerian child does not know the meaning of liberal.

Democracy is just a word. Even when you are right, you’re wrong!

Some Africans suffer from Mental captivity, the older generation especially.

This eventually shapes the youth’s mind so that when he travels to foreign land, he cannot socialise with  others, and he thinks of himself as a lesser human.

Ever wondered why Nigerian youths become successful after they have spent years in another man’s country?  after they have realised that they should not be repressed for thinking the right way?

Nigerians are some of the most innovative, creative minds in today’s world, but that potential is only discovered in foreign institutions. This is why instead of hearing about technological advancements made in Nigerian, we hear about innovations led by a Nigerian inventors working for, for example, a Canadian company

That’s right, there are no jobs for majority of youths in Nigeria, and that’s the main reason we emigrate.

Buhari recently said that Nigerian youths are the laziest people in the world.

Lol.

Sooner or later, these old greasy scumbags fighting for power will be gone, and where will the youths be? contributing to  the sublimation of another’s country’s economy.

Good job Federal Govt. Good job Buhari. Well done!

I’m sorry for my tone, if you picked up on that, I’ve just really wanted to say this for 4 years. If you made it to the end of my rant, Thank you for coming to my TEDx talk.

 

Image from Twitter

 

 

 

A Painful Soul

“Scars

from battles hurt

as It should”

 

 

Way back when waking up every morning was a struggle (honestly not too long ago), I used to write into  my Journals aka my ugly notebook. I sometimes browse through them when I feel stuck.

My first journal is actually really depressing, I can’t believe the state of mind I was in back then, but there are some OK memories in there too.

This week I decided to reedit one of my poetry from it to prove to my readers who battle mental illness, and to myself that life can indeed get better. It is a journey, I still struggle and flop. However,  I am no longer that person, yet it is my story of which I’m proud 😀

Happy Friday!


 

Eyes

like alabaster

reaching into the darkness

of my soul,

I gasp.

 

Aroused

Inside me

A faux without doubt

Another life I’ve lived

stringing cords of distrust,

 

Or paranoia

the  definition of toxic

screaming out someone else’s pain

sliding through impressionable doom

unwillingly

 

The taste

like kolanut lingers

on my tongue

masking the chamomiley one

the ones before left

 

Scars

from battles hurt

as It should

yet I must separate the truth

from fallacy

 

Staggering

dysmorphia is crippling

oodles of bubbles ripple

through a heavy

fragile heart

 

let the  legs sink farther

quaking in unison as they bite dust

again and again

my soul will find your

darker soul.

 

Help.

friend, help!

For in solitude, I live

In solitude

I will dine.


 

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Love Only

 

” Love alone is the plug”

I’ve been dealing with  a lot as of  late. As a result, I have been meditating more to get me through. This phrase have helped me this week to counteract negativity, that’s why I decided I’d drop it  for anybody who needs to be empowered as well.

 

“There is no condemnation.

There is no judgement.

There is only love.”

 

I suppose the quote came as a result of  the fact that I have been too  hard on myself. I want to speak perfect Deutsch and I want to speak it yesterday.  It has been stressful on me because I held myself to a deadline that I think I may not meet.

On top of that, my sister got a tattoo. I tried to be as supportive as I could be when she told me she was getting one. Full disclosure, I didn’t know how to react or what to expect. When I saw the tatt, I kinda wished we would go back in time so I could tell her that it’s an absolute no from me.

These two  abstract emotions were what occupied my mind.  I believe in God’s holy book, and even more in his love. His love for me will manifest  in love for myself, and love for others.

For me that means that whether I meet my deadline or not, I can’t kill myself, in fact I ought to be proud of myself, and my sister. She’s young, maybe she will perhaps make terrible mistakes as I have, but she’ll bounce back even more so, as well.

For you, it could mean anything from self-love to world peace, whatever it is, I pray God’s guiding hands pull you towards the direction he wants you to go.

Namaste.