My Shepherd

It’s in His nature to provide for me even when I don’t know what I want.

He feeds me with goodness and floods peace to my soul.

By His name, He restores me to sight each time I lag.

Even though I walk through hot coals with bare feet unending, He swallows up my fears in comfort with healing and gifts in His bosom.

He sets me up for royal treats in the darkest storms and redeems me with the outpour of his spirit and an overdose of merriness and joy.

Surely goodness and mercy follow me forever as I am now a host of His eternal spirit and life.

As the years draw nigh

With love shining in many forms

Like a rose among the thorns

I have come to understand and believe that everything written in the 23rd Psalm seized to be my responsibility the day I said YES to Him, my good Shepherd.

Imani Dokubo

(C) 2022

This is War

Battles to be fought

Wars to be won

Knees on the ground

Prayers to the son

Girding on my whole armour

Helmet wrapped in salvation

Shield engraved in faith

Sword spilling fiery words

Shoes dipped in the power of the Spirit

Going in this might

Losing not to naysayers

Victory is mine

For the battle is the Lord’s

Feet deeply rooted

In the finished work of the cross

Seated in heavenly places

To watch a war already won

I fight not with fear or dread

I fight for the greater is in me

I fight ‘cos it’s a good fight

I fight to take what had been mine

I fight to possess what I had been given

I fight ‘cos I had won

I am more than conqueror so I fight!

Oraegbu Philipa Ada

© 2022

Man With The Mic

I fear for the man with the microphone
He must speak that which was spoken to him
But does he listen only to speak to the crowd
Can he listen enough to listen while he speaks

I wonder at the woman with the microphone
Laid out in beautiful worship before her Lord
Does her feet still know the grounds of this world
Will this dance of transcendence translate or transform

I fear and I wonder at the man I could be
Microphone in hand, driven by more than I can transmit
I pray that my eyes and heart never know another Lord
That I never be left on my own with a microphone

I wonder at the people we will be, microphone in hand
Telling of his love, revealing to all what they need to hear
More than words we can describe yet we raise a sound
So I pray with the microphone in our hands only Him will be heard


Ezeonyeka Godswill
Oraegbu Philipa
(c) 2022

Can I trust you?

Can I trust you?
Trust you enough to behold my nakedness,
To come before you bare-
With engraved scars and a broken soul,
Can I trust you will hold my brokenness,
And make a sculpture out of me,

Can I trust you?
Trust you enough to let go,
And drown me into your vessel,
Guiding me through the waves life throws at me,

Can I trust?
Enough to abandon all I have built,
Pillars of sweat and blood,
And follow you to the promised land,
Though alien to my eyes but familiar to my heart,
I hear how it calls out to my spirit,
And sings sweet melodies of what my future would be like!
This rhythm soothes my soul,
But fear has gripped me by my spine
And has crippled my faith and numbed my feet
So I ask, Dear Lord,
If I give you my hands to hold,
Can I trust you?
That you will never let go
Until these songs of the future
Become a reality I dance to!
Can I trust you?

Adeleye Olaoye
©2021

Dear Black Child

Dear black child, You will heal
Heal from the scars buried 6 feet
Deep within the pores of your skin
Wounds that festered on your emotions
And shattered your heart into a million pieces
Now your heart is nothing but a broken glass
Learning how to reflect your wholeness
The image of a girl that once loved

Centuries from now,
When the dust is shaped from your bones,
History will tell a tale of courage,
Of a woman who pulled her weight,
Against the odds clawed around her neck,
How from ashes and burning embers
Built an Empire with and sweat,

Your bones will be a blueprint,
A speck of dust igniting generations,
A gene of women who don’t bend to raging winds,
History will tell a tale of a Woman,
A Warrior emerging from within you,
How you faced your fears,
And became a woman emerging,
An open letter when they unearth you,

A testament of weathering storms,
Taking down giants with your love,
You are a promise of resurrection,
Reminding them that red sea parted in your views,
And when you whispered your last breath,
The night spoke the language of love,
Living blueprints in our heart,

Dear Black child,
You are a miracle folded in the form of a woman,
A woman becoming, learning the intricate language of love,
You were born for this sort of heavy lifting,
You were born a part saint, a part warrior,
And you have emerged the Genesis
Of a new breed of women,
A linkage of goddesses

Dear black child,
You are a goddess,
An ancient scripture,
A prophecy lies in your heartbeat,
This revelation is nestled in your palms;
Truly, greatness lies in your loins!
Live it! Breathe it!


Olaoye Adeleye
(C) 2021.

IN ALL THINGS?

We don’t want to bother God
Says man made of mud
So we bottle up what we ought not
Leaving our mind in knots
You receive not for you ask not
What to pray about you say?
All things my brother, so you don’t become a prey
Everything my sister, on every blessed day
So Unfriend anxiety
Cast away its ray
Put on Christ’s piety
And your armor of faith
Whatever it is
Grand or small
Possible, impossible
Serious or minor
Pray about them all
Yes! In all things by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving…
So go on your knees
Lift up those hands
Put your hands together
Lie flat on your tummy
Stand on your feet
Sit on the floor
Whichever position you choose, just shut out the noise
Surrender all
Cast it to God
Receive His rod
Believe it’s done
Make a loud noise
Wait till it comes

Ajegbomogun Olufunke
©2021

Mary’s Cross

Scandal has tingled the villagers’ ears
And engendered the gossip mother fears.
I find her, alone, dissolved in tears
From what she’s heard in the marketplace.

When I go for water, my ears start burning,
As I shop for fish, my feet start turning
To run, but I’m gradually learning
That their hisses can’t rob me of God’s grace.

They tell my father it’s a shame.
They tell my mother she’s to blame.
They whisper to others that I’m a stain
On the high reputation of this godly place.

A swollen belly can’t be hid
Nor the depths of disgrace into which I’ve slid.
Next, my marriage vows they’ll try to forbid
And work to see me exiled from this place.

In the angel’s words it was God I heard
He’s wiser than the scoldings of this world.
I’m told if I faithfully follow His word
I’ll hold the Creator of all time and space
In my arms.

Pamela Urfer
© 2021

LOT’S BROTHER-IN-LAW

Take me back to Gwags;
Let me remake the lags and crags that tripped me forward into UNN.
I thought myself a goner, no Arsenal, and yet I won the war with a few good men.

Barely two years into
UNN my issues
Pointed me to people
Who would grow me into
Feet that would fill great shoes
Burst ma brain, no pimples
I ran into you people
Now I’m pretty grateful

So if you take me back to Gwags
I won’t need the swag
That once was a must-have
No, right now, I have Christ
That sure peace I roll on
That faith is my profession

Tertiary choices once lay ahead of me
A barrier between
the now then and this
I chose first indeed
But God will have his

Abrahaming through lands,
I was my own Isaac – the Son was in the Man

God asked for my sacrifice
I kept dodging all his eyes
I thought that I was wise
Arguing through all his whys

But let me remake
The crags and lags that made
me trip into UNN
Let’s see what happened then…

The Niel Quchi
© 2020