Author: chinwenduvictoriaemenike

Indifferent

It was the happiest day of my life

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It was the happiest day of my life when I allowed Jesus into my heart. My heart was flooded with joy and unspeakable peace. In Him I found a friend like no one else would ever be. Just like new lovers, I was always seen with Him; talking, praising, worshipping – I couldn’t get enough.

Day by day, he came. He entered the parlour, went into the dining room. Oh, the dining room! There were lots of breaking of bread. He opened my eyes to mysteries. I learned, relearned and unlearned. I just couldn’t get enough. Every minute with Him was priceless.

Until one day, an old friend came knocking. I peeped and asked what he wanted. “Just a few minutes, then I’ll be out of your hair,” he said. My heart told me not to, but his dazzling smile, pleading eyes, and obliging countenance were enough to compel me. He smiled and entered.

He was with me when Jesus came. I quickly hid him in a little room. Jesus came in, looked at me deeply, and asked. “Is there anything you would like to tell Me?”

“No.”

His countenance fell.

Our fellowship was not so sweet. But I bothered not, I was eager to conclude the story I was being told by my old friend.

When I was alone again, I ran. To the small room. Where he was. He invited me to a party the next day. I agreed.

The next day, I felt very awkward at the party. I missed Jesus. But I can’t bring Him here. This is not really His “thing”. As I was contemplating leaving, my old friend came and introduced me to his other friends. Little by little, I warmed up to them. I forgot the time.

When I got home, Jesus was waiting for me at the dining table. “It’s time for our breaking of bread,” He said. I dragged my feet to the table and half listened, half slept. Jesus suddenly stopped. 

“You were late today. Where did you go?” 

“Oh,” I said uneasily. “Out with some friends”.

“Can I come with you next time?”

“Oh no, never mind. It’s not your thing.” 

“So why would you go to a place I can’t go?” He queried.

“I can go wherever I please. I don’t need your permission. I’m done with today’s fellowship. Please let’s meet another time,” I said.

Jesus, my ever-gentle friend, did not argue. He picked up His scroll and left.

It broke my heart to see him go. But I was too proud to call Him back, to tell Him I was wrong.

The next day, I went late again. I dropped a note at the doorknob for Jesus. You can start without me. I will join you soon.

The next week, I dropped another message. Please, Jesus, can you not use the dining room? Some friends are coming over. The guest room is all yours.

On and on it went. I stopped bothering to check the guest room. I was so busy with my old friend and his friends. 

One day, while reveling with my friends, I remembered MY FRIEND. I asked for help, but none came. I dragged myself outside. My old friend came out and saw me. “There’s more for you here. The party’s just begun. Come and join us.”

Then I saw the loop: I was reveling in discontent, reveling in sadness, reveling in emptiness. I shook my head with a firm “NO” and trudged on home. 

The night was cold. The wind bit into my skin. I was tempted to go back but I soldiered on. Home. Jesus. Warmth. 

I got home. Looked in the guest room. Saw Him, with His oil lamp. Waiting for me. As always. He looked up at me. “You came today. Welcome.”

A tear slid down my cheek. I went to Him, knelt and sobbed. No words. “I am here for you, I love you,” He said

Like a lamp bursting forth, I broke down in tears. After an hour of reconciliation, I gave Him some keys.

“What are these for?”

“They are the keys to my home, my heart and everything I have. I surrender it all to you. I can’t control my life right. But you can. So, I surrender all.”

Jesus smiled His oh, so loving smile, touched my head and said.

“All is forgiven. You are free”.

I have never regretted that decision.

EMENIKE CHINWENDU VICTORIA

©2021

Mum’s The Word

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As I looked up at the assailant
Tears freely flowing like water
With each thrust, he took a bit of my soul.
Something broke, shattered in me
Then he said, “Mum’s the word”

Looked at them, the ones who loved me,
I want to tell them everything I felt
But imagining the disappointment and shame I would bring,
I told myself, “Mum’s the word”

I looked down, this time I’m on top
My eyes dim, my soul dark
I did to another what was done to me
And I said, “Mum’s the word”

I looked down at the weapon
That would keep me forever mum
I sighed and wished
Wished I hadn’t kept mum…

Emenike Chinwendu Victoria
© 2020

Void

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You think you need something
you get it
And then you need another thing again
It goes on and on
Like a black spiral
You can’t stop
You are insatiable
You gorge, inhale, gather till your barns are overflowing
You stand, and look, and smile, with a satisfied air of pride
You acquire all your heart can think of
And then
Then….
Then…..
You feel empty again.
Your barn’s full on the outside,
But you are empty on the inside
You grope and grope
You catch nothing
You surround yourself with people
Addictions, achievements, to feel something
But
You feel even emptier
Like a far stretched desert land
Why Man, oh Why???
What’s the purpose of gathering
When it does not fill that void, that deep, dark void
WHY????

EMENIKE CHINWENDU
© 2019

SUICIDE

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I’ve written lots of things and deleted it,
I’m short of letters, talkless about words,
I’ve crumpled the pages of my notebooks,
written lots of doodles, smile at one minute,
And then cry at the next,
But now I’m just typing,

I smile at things that make me happy,
I frown at uncertainties,
Should I? Shouldn’t I? Can I? What if?
Questions…….
Afraid to take a decisive step,
I sit and sit,
Becoming a smiling mannequin,
For all and sundry,

I strive to make everyone smile,
All the time,
At the expense of my piece of mind,
Hey you, Be this……….
You there, Be that…….
Come on, I think you’re better this way……
On and on, they say,
Till my world spirals and gets sucked up in “voices”,

“Voices”,
Till I became dead to the VOICE,
Seriously, I can’t even hear HIM no more,
I’m at the end of the rope,
Teetering on the brink of sanity,
Toying with, no, relishing the thought of going over the edge,
Falling down, down, down and down,
Smiling at the very thought of it,
Dying,

Dying??
Why?
For whom?
To what end?
To punish who?
The voice said.
Myself, I reply.
Myself, for being a fool.
For hating myself.
For being a piece of dead leaf
Being tossed to and fro by the tumultuous wave.
For not loving myself., I answered,

And then what next, He asked?
That, I don’t have the answer to,
I’d be dead already,
Okay, you worthless piece,
Since that’s how you see yourself,
That’s what I’ll call you,
You were not put in the world to just breathe in its air,
Drink is water, eat it’s food, enjoy its holidays,
Spend its monies, and just give up like that,

You exist, you don’t just live,
Love yourself, not just others,
Don’t exchange peace of mind with piece of friends,
It ain’t worth it,
You are worth more,
Ah! So much more than rubies,
So much more than money,
Because of just one thing,
I love you!
So, get down from that cliff,
Sit down, breathe 3,2,1, there you are!
Stand up, dust your shoes,
The world is waiting for you!

Emenike Chinwendu

© 2018

WHY??

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This is me
In you
Swimming around the enclosed space
Learning my surroundings
This is me
As i get to know you
Mother
As we get to share a body.
Mommy
I can’t wait
To share the world with you
To eat what you eat
To see what you see
I can’t wait
To show you ME
To be held by you
To give you that heartbreaking smile
Wow!
I have hands!
I can’t wait to explore the contour of your face
With them
I have legs!
Though tiny
I can’t wait to bring home trophies
Of different races
Yes, I’m learning
Learning to know happiness, sadness,
Learning to know the sound of your cry.
Though i wonder why you cry so much
You touch me and you cry
A cry of sadness.
Why?
Then i hear the voice
Telling you, “Don’t worry, it will be over soon”.
Mom don’t worry,
It’ll be over
Then we’ll be happy again
I’ll fill your world with joy
I’ll make you the happiest person
But mom, why are you still sad?
I now feel a little cold
I don’t know why.
Then i feel
As you open your legs
I feel the metal
Probing, probing, searching for me.
Mom, it’s not yet time!
Then the metal clamped on my right arm
And PULLED!!!!
The PAIN, the PAIN!!
The sharp, searing pain!!
Mom, what’s happening??!!!
My right arm is gone!
Mom!!
Why??
Why are you doing this??
I thought you loved me!
I promise I’d be good
I’d study hard
I won’t be a bother
Please just MAKE THIS STOP!!
AAARRGGHH!!!
My left arm!
My beautiful legs
My trophy legs!
My eyes!!!
Why, mother?
Why did you make me?
Just to throw me away
Just to deny me a chance of life?
Why?
As i breathe my last
The last thing on my mind
Is a question for you, mother.
WHY???

EMENIKE CHINWENDU VICTORIA

(c) 2018

Crossed Roads

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So, here I am,  stuck on the cross

Paying the ultimate price for my wrong

Feeling my life seep slowly out of me

Looking down at my accusers, scorning me and my colleagues.

 

Well…

Colleague and one other man

Of  whom I know so little about

Of all the things I’ve heard,

It’s that he doesn’t deserve to be up here

 

Well, my colleague thinks otherwise

Since he’s been taunting and  mocking him,

“If you really are the Christ, then save us!” he says

“how can you say such, seeing we deserve to be here?” I answered.

 

However when I look at him

I felt an indescribable thing

So different from what I’ve felt since I made my first kill

 

I knew, I just knew he was going somewhere

Somewhere good.

So maybe, just maybe, I could go with him

So, I throw in me last bargaining chip

“Lord,  remember me when you come into your paradise”

 

Then he turned his eyes to me.

And I wondered, “how could someone in such amount of pain,

Much greater than the one I’m feeling, have such compassion?”

He says, ” I assure you,  today, you well be with me in paradise”

 

Then peace flooded my heart

I knew that for once in my wretched life

I’d finally done the right thing.

 

  • Emenike Chinwendu (2017)

#TheConversation

FOOTPRINTS

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Dear reader, hold my hand
As we take a walk through time
Time immemorial, ages immortal
Up till today, ending in tomorrow.
Starting form the stone age, through the prehistoric period
Jumping to the Renaissance, colonisations,
Zooming off to the apartheid
–have you been observing?
What do you see?
Well, I’ll tell you my observations,
I’ve seen birth, growth, happiness, laughter
Sadness, disgrace, shame, pain, mourning,
Success, achievement, death.
From age to age, millennium to millennium
The same cycle goes on, birth to death.
Hmm— pretty drab, isn’t it?
Come closer, observe, it always ends with death
But there’s something else….. Footprints
Footprints in the sands of time
Made and stamped, by humans, not aliens
Boy, do they look pretty!
Know this- footprints in the sands of time
Are not made sitting down
If you want to be recognised, remembered,
You must learn to do this simple things
Do what you love, and love what you do
That does the trick.
Yeah, with God on your side too,
Else you’ll just become another boring story.
Strive, reader, strive to leave your stamp
And dear, make it indelible.
Emm okay, less talk, Godspeed.

COUCH POTATO

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Day after day, I sit on the couch. My favorite place, and start watching. Hour after hour, I flip from channel to channel, I scroll with a smug on my face, I compare lives situations, circumstances, beginnings and endings. Of good people, bad, successful and the not. Creme de la creme, less priviledged ‘so cool! Ugh! Not cool!’, I say. Not realising, obviously I’m the worst. Unwatched, unlaughed at, even unfrowned at. Depend on what I’m given; smiling when smiled at, smiling when frowned at. My world full of plastic smiles. My future a gaping void, created by negligence, widened by overindulgence, and finally established by being a vision watcher- a couch potato. Then when life’s light goes off, my only memories will be fragments, of other people’s achievements. Then! I blame the couch! The economy! Every other thing! ….. Oh no! Can’t be my fault! Holding the candle for others, not lighting mine. When I wake from my terrible slumber, there’s already enough light, for all and sundry. As you percieve, they don’t need me. Such are the proceeds I get from trading my visions For a Couch!