A Man’s Way

Hello Friends!

Welcome to another Freestyle Friday recap. It’s my honour to serve as your guide today. My name is Miracle, and let’s go!

So Friday was a special day for one of our team members, Chiamama The Mindsmith. It was his birthday, and as we were wont to do, we celebrated this brillaint artist by celebrating his words. This session was led by our host Niel, and it was titled A Man’s Way.

As expected, Niel started with this wonderful piece;
Just one day in a lifetime
Overthinking the answers
Haven been saved and taught and studied
Never saw the drip not coming

Melt your heart with the heat of my passion
I get cold when I see the deception
Need no hugs, I am Brook with the ‘Frozen’
Dose of Madness, Niels’s ‘too-department’
Seep sips simply but as no Simp
Made of God and Biafra
I have used his wrapper
True, he has also played ‘rapper’
Halt the versus, none more Chiamaama

So low morns, but the nights are high
Owe the wake to Sapa and cane
Lots of PTSD
Only One turns it to good for me
More! I scream at Antagonists
Ònye gá asi na adịghịm bad
Nigga still ripped like Simbad

Then the birthday boy didn’t disappoint. He told a beautiful story with this;

A man’s wayward wiles was once wisdom in a man’s eyes.

It took a man time, like forming himself from clay, a lack of knowledge his foremost delay.

A man thought fire and brimstone a bed hot enough to lay his complaints

A man thought iron and whetstone a blade sharp enough to engrave his first name.

A man thought flowers and tombstone a lane quiet enough to live in solitude.

But a man reached out, amidst the untoward movement of of violence where it was boldly en scripted ‘no piece here’

A man taught him to fight on black and white squares till his hand spelled a signature move ‘no piece here’

A man sang tunes all night, forcing the man to hum a beatbox along the ‘we won’t’ mantra.

A man lived, a man died, but a man was not alone… his only one wish as it had seemed.

But he did not know that a wish for solitude was a wish of folly… a man was rescued from himself.

Almost a defendant of Odin the way the battle field of his mind screamed Valhalla  

A man knew how to tear things down… spell hazard backwards and you have wahala.

And it continued till a man grew, and understood what growing could feel like.

A man learnt that ‘head first’ did not translate to intelligence. And though he still went head first, he learnt to delay gratification and appreciate thirst.

A man is born… a man will be great. A man has a brother a man didn’t regret.

A man’s secrets laid bare, but the other man auto tuned it like the pied piper.

A man saw a singer and a bad rapper… a man saw a user and a sly tapper. And a man loved it!

A man has found family in the lives in his head, but only because there are voices outside to help him differentiate.

A man is unworthy, yet a man is called. A man was angry, now he can sleep out a storm
And when it wakes him, he can slip out a storm from the bag that smells alien stormy Omartian.

There’s a reason we call him the Mindsmith afterall.

Niel Quchi came back with an encore of sorts;

A man lived, a man died. A man peeved? A man cried.

But the people heard a roar whenever a man tried. ‘He’s going over the edge again’ a town cried. The whole city a’gong’

They tried to chop a man eye but a man never lost sight. A man could see and hear, but he knew sign language and braille.

A man was drunk on occasion, messed with fornication. But somehow God had maintained calculation so a man’s dreams remained his holy grail.

A man was GOATED, knew it, believed it, yet somehow for the life of me not once had he ever achieved it… not until…

A man was revived, spirit within and upon, pocketed Christs eternal coupon. Knew he was more than a son, he was dead, but had been reborn.

But though a man knew the truth, yet still a man was curious. A man had heard whispers, seen landmarks that he swore he knew.

So a man trod into the valley of the shadow of myth. Asking the stars why a man still felt incomplete.

A man sought to know why he had awakened a dream, a dream that shut his eyes to his side of the coin that read go ye.

A man still pretended he didn’t see the calling, hear the loud pictures of ministry painted in his head. But even in his sleep, a man could repeat what He said.

A man is obstinate still, but a man knows it’s futile. His cards were laid bare against this opponent who had seen it, not once, but two times.

Tell me why a man fights, a man cannot say. But is a man confident that God will find his way? …hear all the nay sayers go away… the I’s have it.

That was something!

Now if you’re a frequent reader, or part of our larger community, you’re not a stranger to Ebube’s beautiful words, and she always comes through.

Thus says the prophet,
Wait for it oh
Hillary son of
Graham celery
It’ll come

A miracle awaits you,
By May?
I know not
How it’ll be
Shall it come?
The route it’ll take.

How it looks
The closer it maybe
Maybe, maybe not
Will it come?
Hillary son of Graham celery shall not know too

Thus says the prophet,
Oh Hillary son of Graham celery
Anticipate still!

How long it’ll take
How much it’ll cost you,
Wait for it.

For man’s own ways differeth from God’s own ways, it may tarry,

It may come in MAY

And then Eremipaghmo Pearl sent in this piece just before the end of the day;

Man’s perfection is his best imperfections
It only makes sense to him
When it’s satisfying
Funny how there is nothing really as a line that’s ‘perfectly straight’
But man will argue
We’re born to debate with nature after all
But how can I trust the same voice
That makes statements like
‘The way to a man’s heart is his stomach’
Or ‘the earth is flat’
Nah ‘it’s spherical’
‘Pluto is a planet’
‘Oh no it’s not’
Egg is good for you until it isn’t anymore
When the arm of flesh fails

Could God be referring to human hands?

Man’s ways are altered with potholes of imperfecions
And his best fix will leave the road with bumps still

I am the kind of man that is human
I embrace my imperfections
I doubt my spirit gets to deal with such imperfections
But my flesh has a way of adding it’s arm to the plan
It’s just man’s way
But I’m not depressed by this
I’ve never really trusted my perfections
Even when they are audible in my voice
However, I know a better way~
To trust God who helps my imperfections.
And makes my way much better than I ever could try

And with that we ended a very eventful Freestyle Friday with contributions from some of our best and finest. Please take a moment and say a prayer for Chiamama if you can, and I hope you had a fun time today!

It’s been my pleasure to do this with you. Have a blessed day!


Niel Quchi

The Mindsmith


Eremipaghmo Pearl

Immortal Strategy

Hello Friends!

It’s been a hot minute since we did this, and how I’ve missed you lovely people. I hope you all had a wonderful weekend, and an even better Easter celebration? I know I did. Last Freestyle Friday, while we celebrated the perfect plan of God in Salvation, we tried to answer a very important question; Could you have strategized your life better than God has?

While we pondered on this, and reflected on the gift we have been given in the nature of God’s life, His power, and our beloved eternal family, two of our very talented poets edified us with poems on the topic Immortal Strategy.

Niel our host started as usual with this beautiful piece;

Question is for people who have counted paces
Seen that they did not always make healthy choices
Who betrayed the fam for half the stew of Esau
Oxlade in the dark, not caring that he saw

My strategy was a hole in me, I’d never be all I need be, Sin CV
Plans on plans to balablu the lack
Flutter through the waves for pay to stack
Piggyvesting testing the waters too small for shark do
And then the jealousy extends from me to those with more goods
And I could be tied if I relied on half the limits I have
But I have defied half of the grind, my help is meet forever

Healthy meat and pepper
It rests on King Yeshua
God my planner
The one who waters from a rock in the sun
To us a son is given, to us a child born

The right trajectory dodges when power thinks it might
The race is not to the SWIFT, the OS is the Spirit
I’d rather travel a lot, than go the way of Lot
If God is righting my writing, I’ll let him build the plot

Strategy divine
First step is listen
Next thing I needed
Was yielding to his mission
Seeking first the kingdom
Yielded my ambition

Being reborn with God’s own name and ammunition


If you wanted a chunky, beautiful ride on words, with a sweet reminder that we are horrible planners, even worse decision makers, and had little in the form of strength to save ourselves from those bad decisions, then this poem was it! Thank God for God who is capable of saving even the worst of us from ourselves ehh?

The next piece came from our beautiful Hannah Ijike;

One would wonder what went through the minds of the Angels in heaven. How they looked at God as he looked at his son. How he did nothing when his son was crucified. They may have known the plot but didn’t know the gravity.

One would imagine an angel flew down to help Jesus when he fell with his cross and God says “Don’t you dare!”

One would imagine Angel Michael holding his peace. The burden of having all weapons to do justice but restrained. Demons gaping at him. Telling him he has no power to do anything. Telling him to see the reason why they left heaven for hell. To think God was reasonable to let his son down and Satan will not seize that opportunity.

One would wonder why the heavens were so still. When you lack words, what do you do? You keep silent. When the Word is not with you, silence becomes inevitable. But now even the Word without them refuses to speak. Angels at his call! One would see the strength of Jesus, though a master at words but knew it was not time to speak.

One would imagine what madness. To refuse the use of your creative power when it was needed the most.

To know power, tested and tried. To know mastery, tested and tried. To know wisdom, tested now tried.
This, one would imagine what was in the minds of the Angels when they saw Jesus crucified.

Tell me you felt this! Tell me your heart sped up too as you read this! Tell me you smiled too! That you were taken on this journey, and your imagination was challenged too! Gosh! The imagery, the gripping authority of her words strung together in perfection, giving you a glimpse of another side of this eternally relevant story. Tell me you felt it too!

Regrettably, we have come to the end of today’s Freestyle Friday recap journey. Good things have to end sometimes too, and it was such an honour to have you with me on this journey. I’ll leave you with a beautiful parting gift; the perfect Easter song written by our very own Captain, Sir Ezeonyeka Godswill, and performed by the beautiful Glory (HISglory). The song is titled ‘Ransomed’ and it’ll take you on a very memorable journey through the redemption story. You’ll get a taste of mastery, skill, talent, the feels, and a good dose of edification.

You can find Ransomed streaming on all platforms, and I hope it blesses you as much as it blessed me. You’re welcome!

My name is Miracle, and have a blessed day my friends!


Niel Quchi

Hannah Ijike


Hello Friends!

Hope you’re doing great?

So last weekend we had our first Freestyle Friday for the month of February, and it would be my pleasure to do this recap with you. My name is Miracle, and I hope you have as much fun as I do. Let’s go!

The theme of our Freestyle Friday session was Different. And as usual, this session was led by our man at the helm, the Niel Quchi

He started off with this beautiful opener at 05:01pm WAT

Tell the Ballards that the story repeats
Calling fire down to burn up the streams
Trying to see over all of the winks
And all of the grace and blessings got me thinking different


Eyes stayed on the gospel
John 1 is my gust pulled
Out a bottle of the Most High
Found I’m human and I still lie
But the cleansing sense is different
I am Paul plotting revenge
Gotta hit em with a message differen!!


Holy Spirit on the supervise
They who wins souls are called wise
Some reasons aren’t called ‘whys’
They are excuses that make us no differen!


I’ve been writing for a few years
Still expanding trying to match peers
We’ll be different till the chaff clears
Bring blood, no dey bring tears

He was then followed by the talented Tolu (The Alchemist) by 05:51pm with;

Different we may seem, diverse as can be
But beneath our skin, we all are free
Free to love, free to dream
And in our hearts, a common theme

Different colors, different ways
Different beliefs, different days
But deep within, we all have pain
And a longing for love to remain

Different languages, different scripts
Different voices, different lips
But in the end, we all desire
To have our spirit lifted higher

Different paths, we may have trod
Different burdens, we may have carried on
But in the end, we all seek peace
And the joy that comes with release

So let us embrace our differences
And cherish our unique existences
For in diversity, lies our strength
And the beauty of a world at length.

There was a bit of a lull as we took in Tolu’s beautiful words, when the beautiful Sophia Dawodu came in with this poem at 07:56pm

Is there a mirror for the mind?
A mirror to see the changes my fingers have lost numbers to count.
A mirror to see how there isn’t enough breath to count the length of eternal my life now is.
Is there a mirror enough to capture the image of… “new man” ?
“You, mine” branded by the holy spirit was the product when he said “it is finished”
“I, yours” became the awareness of his gift when I said “I believe”

 This was then quickly followed by a beautiful entry by our beloved CAPtain Ezeonyeka Godswill at 08:01pm:

Have you ever thought of the words “make sense”. How it rolls of our tongues when someone takes something from nonsense to some sense our weary gleefully recognize that there is thought behind design and a little bit of the chaos has been conquered.

To make sense is also to confine meaning to limited boundaries. To define design as bearing structured distance from anything else. It bears natural difference as its man-given right. It makes sense.

Have you ever thought what it means when God says I made you. That there is thought behind your design, that you are a little bit of conquered chaos orchestrated and carved to confine structure. You are made. That means you are distant from others. DIFFERENT

And as is quick becoming her custom, the multi-talented Eremipaghmo Pearl came in with a spillover on Sunday by 11:43am:

You and I can’t be the same
There’s no need
No matter how hard we may try
In making our prints like others
We will at best be copies
And if it’s for the fame
we’ll both lose the game

We’re different moving parts of a beautiful Unit
In our uniqueness
We still show the beauty there is
In the singleness of heart
See, same thing may influence our steps
But our response will always reveal our difference

I don’t deny our oneness
For we were hewn from same rock
But when we became chips
Our positioning and perspectives
Gives the world different viewpoints
Of what our source prolly looks and feels like
You and I can never be the same
We’re different branches from same tree

If this isn’t a great way to end the freestyle exercise for the first week of February, I don’t know what is!

I hope you were blessed by these words, I hope it inspires you to be different, to embrace your uniqueness. But most of all, I hope these words remind you whose you are. Have a beautiful rest of the week. Bless Up!


Niel Quchi

Tolu (The Alchemist)

Sophia Dawodu

Godswill Ezeonyeka

Eremipghmo Pearl

What is Sleep?

Hi Guys! A quick January this was ehh? Hope yours was as eventful as mine?

So a few days ago (27th of January), we had our last freestyle Friday on the group. My name is Miracle, and it will be my honour to walk you through it.

The theme of our Freestyle Friday session was What is Sleep? And this session was led by our man at the helm, the talented Niel Quchi

At 11:25am, Niel started with;

Five minutes to nod nod
Evil Spirit dun dey knock knock
Na when Pastor dey talk talk
The lull of mortals, our tough luck
Some will call it fatigue though
It’s out-of-body like invitro

So not-you, you have to fight through
Sleep is better when its controlled

Then Hannah Ijike came in at 11:36 with this beautiful piece;

Slip into another land
Where you cannot control what happens
Where you can see the future or what could have happened
Where you talk with beings that look like family

Slip into another meta verse
Where you interpret their language
Where you could be king and not reign
Where horses float in the skies

Slip into another planet where the sound of silence can be heard
Where voices whisper but can be discerned
Where energy is restored without any effort

He gives his beloved sleep
To see plans of kings
To annul what was supposed to be
To know what rest is

Niel came back with this at 11:51am

But the setting plays a big part
Were you ready like a made bed
Sleep is like a drink
Next thing you know you’re burping
Burp in time, future pasts
Neverlands and herculean tasks
Locked in skits like spiritual TikTok
Everything awake is asleep to something else

I’m sure this is already a feast, and it’s not even been an hour we got started!

Anyway, Tolu chimed in at 12:04pm with this wonderful piece;

In slumber’s realm, a peaceful
Where worries fade and dreams
take space
The night unfolds, the stars
A symphony of silence, pure and

The body rests, the mind at
A gentle breeze, a rustling tree
The world outside, a distant
As sleep descends, a
comforting drum

The hours pass, the moonlight
A lullaby to soothe the mind
A journey to a world unknown
Where all is well, and all is

In dreams we fly, in dreams we
roam Through fields of green, to
oceans foam
In sleep we find, a needed peace
A respite from reality’s release

So close your eyes, and let go
To the land of slumber, a gentle flow
Where all is calm, and all is right
And may your dreams, be filled
with light.

Niel seemed to be on a roll, because he came back with these rejoinders for Hannah’s piece at 12:04pm and 12:10pm respectively;


A philosopher said, dreams mirror life
I think we’ve all seen things crazed enough to cross the line
That line between real and the lies is faint
Sometimes Appearances dey feint
I call it sleep when mortals chose to walk without him
The jungle shows that superiority is quite inevitable
Why should I argue with Abba?
Slash with my prayers, slip through the dangers


I am his beloved
I sleep and see the plans of Kings
The shadow things,
And the future was in a past question paper
Son of God when I roam the planes
And sometimes it is forgotten

There was a lull, and you’d think we were done, but Darby came in by 09:40pm with this wake-up call;

Awake!  Awake!!
what is playing you to slip
is equally playing you sleep
Awake to that voice speaking to you.
Just before you get drunk and drawn away.
pray, slay, stay Strong
For in the His hands you abide

Now even when the clock strikes twelve, and a new day has taken to the shelves, we’re still not packed away waiting for the next Friday. Because the beautiful thing about sleep is that it puts to bed the night worries, and wakes us with the promise of better. So what is better than waking up to a beautiful spillover poem by Eremipaghmo Pearl;

Close your eyes
Think of me
Let’s create
Find answers
Explore paradise
Behind closed lids
Shut it out
The maze
It distracts
It’ll clears, the haze
You’ll see
Then you’ll see
You create
You find
You explore
Think of me
As you close your eyes
What is good
Is created
First within
Behind your close lid
It’s a good sleep

Phew! It’s been an honour serving you for this time, I hope you had as much fun as I did. Till next time we bring you Freestyle Friday Recaps, Bless up!


Niel Quchi
Hannah Ijike
Tolu (The Alchemist)
Eremipaghmo Pearl