I was recounting to my colleague one of my childhood memories of traveling with my mother, and why it was so pleasant.
I am from the riverine area of Nigeria, a proud Ijaw woman. I can’t really speak my language, but that has never killed the flame of pride that kindles when I hear it spoken, when I see my culture expressed, when I breathe the air of my land after being away for a long time, and when I feel its waters. This memory is about the waters.
As a child, traveling between Bonny Island and Port Harcourt was one of my favorite things to do with my mum. Aside from the snacks that came as a bonus package, the way the boat danced on the waves, the stories that abounded, the fishing ports flanking the sea, the body warmth from being packed together in a small boat (four to five people per bench, and about five benches per boat), and the excitement of traveling when it rained all added to the beauty of the experience. But this memory is about when it rains while traveling at sea.
The commercial boats were open-topped, so when it rained during the journey, a large canopy would be spread over the passengers. Those sitting at the edges were burdened with the responsibility of holding it down, keeping those in the middle safe from the wind and the heavy raindrops. As a child, I would make beats in my head, following the rhythm of the raindrops hitting the canopy. But this memory is about the driver, who sails even when the passengers are covered up.
While everyone stays hidden under the canopy, shielded from the harsh weather, the driver stays put, navigating the wind, the waves, and the rain. He literally weathers the storm for the sake of his passengers—and for his stomach’s sake, as that is how his income flows. His passengers have to trust that they are in good hands; whatever happens out in the open is up to the driver to navigate until the rain stops. But this write-up isn’t really about my memories, however beautiful I perceive them to be.
This is about the rain and my ark. Like the passengers on that boat, I can’t control the vessel, nor can I control the weather, but I can control where I place my trust. So, I trust He who stirs my ark, because if I know nothing else, I know I am His priority. He will do everything to keep me afloat and on the right path, no matter how much rain pours, how loudly the thunder claps, or how hard the hail beats. While that happens, maybe I will make a song from those sounds and dance with the boat—because that, too, is all part of the experience.
Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions.
The topic was RELATIONSHIP, on August 7th 2021. But Only I, Niel, wrote at all that day at 5:07pm:
Fire in my eyes, Water on my lips I get low on highs, But I let The Lord eclipse And I’ve learned not to bless in human cursive What’s related to success’s successes is relative
New singles cooking, tell the Nerd to turn it all up I would get conceited but I pray too much to mess up Feeling like Paul except he brews more disciples than me God got babies, I’m a nanny and the job is paying Z why I’m asking peeps all over Lagos if they’re saved Fire in a rainstorm Burning all your doubts Argument and miracles, pick what you’re about But we don’t play, we make sure while they make mouth
What’s the line between dinner and a dead man The hope that won time by creating it Call the one name that won names in him Saturated God-ness The Reason and the Risen
Yeah But the next day, at 4:43 PM, I felt another write-up itch from behind the doors of my fingers:
Testy testimonials testifying to tasting fire Tess or Tracy, the test is changing text to power Traceback to the prophets and testimonies of older I’ve been with the bandwidth of routers that avoided God Still, he found ignoring hypocrisy absurd The soldiers want a soldier made out of the broken hearted But my God is still turning dead shit into Harpic
And that seemed to touch Godswill somewhere because at 6:21 PM he said:
Prince of Peace that passes all understanding Cos we shouldn’t be in the valley smiling but check who’s riding with us I’ve got Shepherd vibes all around me, my victory is unforced God is creator and life to me Sustainer and I rely on him Father and guide to him Lover so reckless, he died for me
What a savior Seizing sons off Satan’s sinful sizzle What a judge Justly he justifies us as just men through Jesus What a daddy Daily dishing doses of divinity to delivered deviants What a God
And that must have touched Zoe Ziva because at 7:14 PM, Zoe Ziva wrote up:
The One whose throne has emerald circled, whose throne can never be overthrown
Whose voice makes the thunder shiver, clapping in awe and awesome wonder
The one whose whisper is as soft petals kissing the layers of my skin, still His voice is like music harmonizing – a beautiful symphony.
The one whose love makes life take a sit, a sheet, and pen, jotting down in tears.
The One so patient, loving, gracious, and kind still regardless of His many possible options, He chose my heart for His chair.
And Eremi never misses a word party. At 7:22 PM, she bubbled to the surface:
God doesn’t hide behind emojis Sending a ‘lol’ when you do something funny? When he laughs, distance doesn’t fade the echoes it leaves on your soul
He doesn’t send you a grinning emoji to tell you He’s pleased; your whole being feels it.
He doesn’t send you a ‘happy sweat’ when there’s like a close call. For He’d gone way ahead of the situation to drop the alarm, sending angels in place to make further restrain, and even amidst man’s stubbornness, he still stretches out to deliver.
Ain’t no need to send you ‘hearts’ or a smiley face with hearts when your heart already feels his syncing.
When you desire comfort, a black heart isn’t what he sends; He speaks in you with a voice peaceful amidst raging thoughts. Even an emoji hug can’t give a little spark of such peace and when he hugs you, the warmth chases the cold of loss
He takes no chance at leaving distance to distort His Care-message
His every emotion sends frequencies audible enough for even the hair on your skin to pick
God doesn’t hide behind emojis He tells you to your face that He loves you What’s the worst you can do? No? He receives your ‘No’ with ‘I will never leave you nor forsake you.
And if he ever had an emoji, it will be all the works of his hands, upon which he poured his essence. So if you ever feel distant from Him, lool around you…let the wind remind you of words and when you hear his voice in the roaring of the waves, see his light in the bright rays of the sun. Believe his words when he says He’s all around you and within you.
There. I felt that.
This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective on our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address. The topic you just read was “Relationship.”
Authors: The Niel Quchi Ezeonyeka Godswill Zoe Ziva Eremi Pearl
Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions. This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective to our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.
July the 9th, 2021
At 10:09 AM, I made known the topic of the day. It was one of those days when I wanted people to give me some advice. Unfortunately, that is all I am going to say as a background because I don’t recall the particular situation in my life that prompted my choosing the topic.
The day’s topic was WISDOM OF MAN and I dictated up to two other variations of it. And true to form, no one had written on it as of 6 pm; this was that kind of topic.
At 6:42 PM, I wrote:
It’s hard to talk about this kinda topic And not do some self finger-pointing If na others now we go quick to critic Whose eye are you gonna see your eyes with
Man’s wisdom doesn’t point itself out We drink sense from the Word of God bouts And there he goes forming sense now The Truth is it is God who holds and keeps me
My mates’ successes tip me on jealousy But I learned to see Fighting bent of knee Jesu Christi genes Omo made of him True wisdom is knowing how wise a man is not And sharply reckoning Godless sense is nuts
Never to be missing in action, at 7:07 PM; Eremi:
“My people say…” Ehen! na im. Wen that talk dey I know sey somebody wan invoke Another person wey experience something Wey no match wetin I expect Sealed to leak through time Experiences sewn in words From generation through generations
“My people talk sey…” In it, is the thread of Wisdom and folly Of pride and humility Of truth and lies Of love and hatred Of brotherhood and alienation Of The good, the bad and every other thing that follows
I no get beef with wetin anybody cook But if e no dey cooked with the wisdom of God Drop am like hot potatoes Else, after you burn your tongue You go find out sey e no make sense
As time dey tic talk Nah so things dey change too For this equation we call life, change nah the only constant Wey still be variable No choose man wisdom Over wetin God talk oh Him words old pass this world sef Yet still dey fresh like today bread After all nah bread of life Him be.
Where I been dey go sef?
Haha, I love the fact she wrote in pidgin and ended like that. I continued at 7:22 PM:
Ask Google Except when you need a Doctor like Skylar Grey Cause trouble Then turn around and vex for government everyday
No be lie But you didn’t verify it You say the Bible says But you heard it from a pastor Heard it in passing Aren’t you forgetting All of us are human God sent sense in the belly of a woman When the nigga show, im prayer life na constant God first Sir, to their wisest I’m a foolish man See them shouting “something must to kill a man”
At 7:37 PM, Godswill graced us with his “nine-eyes” lines:
I lost the will to own my life when I met me I marvel at the spawn of wickedness I think I am a testimony that wisdom does not come naturally
I have lived loved and died carefully I know failure does not respect efforts and planning I am a witness that wisdom is no common feat
I wrote these 3 so we could see clearly I like any other man falls short completely I can only make it through by wisdom’s lead
And that was it. It was a brief spell and we enjoyed it and began to talk normally after the bouts.
I believe that if you had read any of these poems on their own, you would get a part of the picture. Now you see them together, I think it’s a more wholesome picture. Tell us what you think, and see you next time
The day’s topic was “rooted” and the day was July 2nd, 2021. I delivered the topic at about 8:55 AM which was pretty early for a freestyle.
Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions. This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective to our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.
8 minutes after the topic was delivered the first person responded. It was Damaris.
She said, “God I must post something today.”
Very Naija. However, she did not write anything until much later. It was I, Niel Quchi, who started the poetry party at 9:05 AM:
Heartbreak kid, Built for speed, Yes indeed, yes indeed Pra pra, no I never not practice Pra pra, I dig into God Praxis Ba ba, barka de Jesus peace Water, still drowning enemies Yes indeed, Yes indeed
And the reply was a 4-hour silence that ended at 1:36 PM when TC wrote:
Rooted in Christ In Christ alone Both tap root and fibrous root For he himself had said I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one can snatch them away from me.
In Christ my root gowwes deep All other ground nah pito-pitoo
Hmmm. We also particularly like that last part. Zoe Ziva came the on the scene a 2:39 PM:
Deep Deep Down in the soil of my heart Bearing fruits like the root for there’s my food. My branches resting solely on His strength What can separate me from the nutrients of this tree when I’m rooted deep in His root. Spread deep down in His love, I grow strong ignoring the clashing and hissing of the wind because the one wey hold me from ground strong pass.
I’m rooted Deeply rooted Simply rooted Helplessly rooted In Him He is the tree with the root, I’m rooted in His love.
Yes yes, confessions that remind us of who are in Christ. I wrote this next spurts at 3:08 PM:
I found my starting in Shakespeare Poetry, the fine kind whispered here and there, And I would sit for hours trying to cook up the next line But now I freestyle 8 lines in no time I call it growth The patterns, they can change just to engage I’m not stuck in any way of speaking, I can do this in a familiar way or make it strange. Point I’m making is there is just one cage, And though you think and think the answer will be language. Yeah, I call it mode.
History will say a lot when it comes to the QuChi The services that made servant and sometimes a mystery I calculate my worth in how much I’m able to evolve I want to get to where I don’t giraffe, I just solve
Raise your hand if you have used a Blackberry Curve A haters acts like they were hurt when you fell out of love I’ve learned to make excuses rather condemn a bruv And that’s how we cope with bosses and the new gov. Nọ́kata ị dowé anya ka ikwikwii I’m rooting for you but you leave me as an enemy I just set new goals I call it focus I’ve run years in a year I’ve been hungry and scared But when they testify, the story will be titanic Relationship-wrecked but I swam ashore Walking up the sands of time, dragging a thirst for more. I call this digression, though I hope some people wonder if I’m writing about the dough The root of the matter is normally shrouded And I just exhale the poetry from my veins The stories of a dragon are equally shrouded The villagers will root for their warriors in the same vein. I call it vanity.
So far so good I have left the hood But then i still brood Hoping God will rain food Yeah so far so good I have written more books But there’s more to brew Hope in God is good
That’s enough for now. We will show the the rest. God bless you
Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions. This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective to our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.
This is one of those that freetyling started the day before. The itch to scribble was incessant and spontaneous. A day before the 18th, at 9:40 AM, TC wrote:
I never knew what life was
I thought I knew Help me live this life That you’ve given me Like a child who has never lived mortal life This life you’ve given me Is weaning me from my milk diet The only life I’ve ever known
I never knew what life was I thought I knew Till you gave me one And everything tasted better Like my taste buds were made for this Now, I’m like the child Oliver twist needing more and can’t seem to get enough You make life make sense
I want some more Now I know better coz this tastes alot better Going back to my former diet Tastes like death I need you coz you’ve got the recipe To this dish, called life And I like the way you dish it out
Freely, in abundance
But this was before I unveiled the topic: Way maker. Tell us, do you think he wrote in alignment?
At 7:08 AM, Zoe Ziva wrote in:
The One who makes a way without bricks nor sand
Stepped right into me and gave me the same ability So I stand before the water and tell it to part
Stand before the rock and water responds.
The way is no longer a question The maker is the same We know who He is J.E.S.U.S The Christ, living in our hearts.
But TC wasn’t done. He came at 7:24 AM: .
..light in the darkness That is who you’re Path-paving on the highways of redsea Layer of asphalt on the sea of galilee Builder of ramps with the high walls of jericho Taken up to flight on heavens airways No need for doors, walking through walls is the norm.
*continues morning devotion
Very amusing…he gave us a glimpse into what he was doing. You can then almost picture his mind’s perspective. At 9:07 AM Godswill chimed in and said his piece:
I have thought so long and written much About Peter feet-skating on storms I can’t fathom that what was required was a word
My awe at the wonder that is Jesus Stems from the multiplicity of manifestation To an ever consistent identity of awesome
How he chisels pathways of peace on my stony heart How he calls me out on faith courses with his thorough word so sure And just like sinking Peter, I don’t regret walking with the waymaker
Sometimes, poets write exactly what you want to read.
9:35 AM, I wrote into the fray:
WayMaker
Caretaker, building me to window I preached and then I am stoned Chairmen sit, they’re bored of directors but I am throned Made king to serve in Church, right where I was shown The seed to sow to grow and be grown And all this was impossible
I sit elected by the grace you have to celebrate He overdosed me with the same, the G.OD innate And I could have died Because I lied when I said I can make the heights Pawn I be too, I need the hand of God to fight
WayMaker DayMaker Chain breaker DeathSlayer TimeKeeper and TimeHolder The start and Finish
I guess it’s Sapa and a demon wey dey lie give us Guides and Maps are found in Christ wey you carry give us
I think my lines were more amusing than profound, although no one was so lacking in profundity.
I believe that if you had read any of these poems on their own, you would get a part of the picture. Now you see them together, I think it’s a more wholesome picture. Tell us what you think, and see you next time.
So I announced the topic at 1:16 PM. But the day had begun a little earlier, links posted from an Instagram post and a medium article.
Topic : Vital Signs
Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions. This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective to our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.
I started this particular bout at 3:32 PM with this:
So today I’m Searching online For a chic – perfect woman For a big plan What I found: VP of Nigeria’s name is not Osibanjo First aero doctor is Ola Brown? And yet Seun Kuti calls here a concentration camp I already forgot the role of O. Lawal
But my eyes protest by closing They’re longing for my closing They want to sleep a dose indeed I told them growth is what I really need
Vital signs tell me Quchi you’re an Acer HP for health points, I’m healing any matter Asus for the truth, we bring systems from the Maker No Mecca Life so Good, Drake bought a future here Sir Dell say my hair is bad, I say I’m the G in Samson Panasonic flow, 116, roam and act on what I’m going to knock here I no care Tecno for my answer, if you want me quiet OPPO tuned it in, still I chose his diet My discipler Redmi Genesis 1:26 28, still Saw what I’ve never scene Those are vital signs Heavenly jujitsu Cats got nine I got Holy Ghost fruits
See what I did there?
I was writing about Electronic/Comms Tech companies. Not bad huh. They could have celebrated that a bit more, but UC Truth happened next. This man s’ppose to be my brother, but here he is outshining my moment with this beautiful…picture… at 3:36 PM:
Beep-Bip
When my temperature dropped another hot album I listened To the itchy rash on my thigh, making me dance to every scratch Pale faced CD cover Aches on joints that sing their covers My breath was a broken record Skipping beats became the thud-thud of my my my heart’s drum And it’s on record When my temperature dropped I was buried in dust Home sweet home my sinful body sang of its lust Pale faced lover with a fork I knew these feiry tails would finally drive my mind to nuts And bolts, locked in his tunes Rhythm and blues All these rashes make me itch of me and you When my temperature dropped I became He promised me “Again” to be born I became him here “You in me” was his hymn here The angels chorused The paths they sang was the road paved To walk in motion Heal the sick and don’t lose focus Another dead To raise them now I am sent Like an arrow shot I pierce Bone and marrow Breaking records of yesterday Because what matters is who I kill today The rash decision to be joined to the sun burned me Now I’m nothing but crisps of former paper A letter written by his hands Delivered with a dance When heaven skip skipped their feet For he made me neat Beat by beat A new album Not of this world Cold hearted to the tail and fiery When my temperature dropped
That first line was it for me. I immediately fell for the piece. There were praiseful comments indicating that some other CaPians loved it as well…the piece comes to an end soon enough to not let you tire. Nicely put together.
We all gushed at the constitution of Words, while some of us contemplated the state of our writing skills. Hehe
Then Chika St. Davnique started recording a Voice Note. I was like, Ah!
Please find attached Remi Fani-Kayode Avenue 2 by Chika St. Davnique. Something spicy!!
Zoe had come online and had been reading. She was ready to emit poetry. She did so, at 4:25 PM:
His red blood washed me white A vital sign that I’ve been made righteous.
Then I returned at 4:30 PM. In between Zoe and I, there was plenty of talk. And then I spoke:
Oya wait lemme be the scapeGOAT When I proposed this topic, trust me, I saw not this coming You see UC typing and ceaselessly it’s crazy coming But you’re not doing well if you troway good chair in Xhika def is merciless like Barca last season I dey my dey she went and made us all a voice lesson I understand if we Nintendo die the matter there But vital signs say we’re alive like juice or something high
Ade, Eremi and Uba, you can’t just run away There were the days when they felt something akin to your pain But grit is greeted by the greatness created for the great…test of all time That’s G.O.A.T. weighty from the time it spent on fire
Haha. I guess I have mentioned those who were contemplating the state of their writing prowess.
Here is Hanna, with her thoughts on Vital Signs at 8:29 PM:
Vital signs needed for the sick, the weak but not the meek. Vital signs are needed for the proud, the simple but not the spirited Vital signs are needed for the blind, the deaf but not the clean Vital signs are needed for the hopeless, the depressed but not the adventurer Vital signs are needed when you’re on admission and those symptoms are visible Vital signs are your routine check until you’re dead. An exception to vital signs is to die daily then and only then will you live abundantly.
Baby Girl is just peng. She went text book on it, almost violently. And I ended the day with an 8:36 PM dart:
This stuff nearly embarrassed me. Simple depth Kinda water that drowns you if you just wanna shoyuken, like you’re a streefighter God of War, but na God of Love Kratos on the 6th day For rest that’s only found in Jesus Vital signs I exhibit are things like tongues and power gifts And yes I have the bread to make hell’s traffic jam
I know that you are waiting for Eremi and TC. I’ll keep them for tomorrow. Come back again.
I believe that if you had read any of these poems on their own, you would get a part of the picture. Now you see them together, I think it’s a more wholesome picture. Tell us what you think, and see you next time.
Authors: Niel Quchi UC Truth Zoe Ziva Chika St. Davnique Hanna Azubuike TC Eremi
Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions. This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective to our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.
Welcome to the 4th of June 2021, when the freestyling began at 7:52 am. I wrote:
Yo
Welcome to the upgrade Danfo like I don’t fall Dusk be my time after all is said and dawn Had a really planned day, got a lot of work done
This morning I thought deep about something How we shun the Word and get to anthropomorphizing Someone who made trees and the python Clearly that’s is demonic influence and a nice one Even if I wake up tied to a chair I am set free by the Word wey I hear The human condition isn’t the feeling of our hands down It’s the illusion of enjoyment always being around And never meaning anything when the trumpets sound
So, from 2013 till today, every few months I conduct an upgrade of my mind. I do it by introspection, “Christrospection”, teaching myself new habits and such… I suspect that it was during one of these “upgrade” that I wrote on this day.
I kept writing:
Recently I found out how it really goes Judas is saved like a cloud upload Suicide doors don’t open damnation Samson did the same after judging the nation Eyes on faith, Ntụtụ bu decoration I got power, Agbara to give the nations
Do you recall Peter and his lies After the first murder, bro Cain went to hide with God’s bullet proof. Chai. No let them lie to you, and I don’t mean Mohamed God forgives all and he never leaves you dead So if you need the OT for the OT, come and meet me What I studied was really John for my BSc
And after a brief pause, I opened the floor at 8:09 PM. This was the time I brought forth the topic; Meditation.
The first person to respond in poetry was Damaris. Damaris is Christapoet’s host in the Upword series on Instagram. Pretty lady with a serious schedule. She came through at 8:25 PM:
My thoughts speaks an unheard language
An unknown tongue Too sacred or solemn for my lips to speak Words would ruin it So I’ll just let my heart do the talking
I’ll sit in this silence In the quietness of this moment I’ll turn down the world’s volume Till I can hear your heart beat
I
Yes, she purposely ended with “I”. That’s one of the things that I love about poetry. You can mean what you want and reveal what you want, but openly hide what you want.
Sweet Food is never plenty
And so it came to pass, that there were no freestyles until 12:37 PM, when one of my favorites, Eremi said a few words about meditation:
M E D I T A T I O N
Words spoken From residual abundance
Words heard amidst uttered abundance
Words received Alongside tweeted abundance
Words munched on A mix diet of fresh and leftovers
Pictures recreated The urge to speak into being
On the canvas of reality Words meditated on Become the pictures painted To recreate again From residual abundance
Pearlythoughts
Ok, so her pen name is “Pearl”. Hehehe. Why would I call her Pearl when she has a beautiful African name such as EREMIPAGHMO?
What I wrote next, at 1:09 PM, was supposed to be…a retort to Eremi’s freestyle entry, but unfortunately; it was the last entry for the day. Here I am, Christapoet to the World:
I am going to try to write ignoring music Even though there’s places I can go that’s less acoustic The negative stimulus has me thinking at my own pace. I should use this to give me a running start.
Like levitate and gravitate like i ate 8 eighteen years olds or i refuse to preach How dare you blame you blame another’s will on me That’s what it meant by all authority
The black sea is waiting to be crossed No. Eremi, so this is Saturday spills For real, i wonder if i want tweak the theme And thunder past the label like a beast indeed I heard
My father paid for everyone one of them, i am commander messenger I logistic word of God Not afraid to stand in buses But i have no proof of that Got lil Lizzy all tongue speaking Let her testimony speak I am higher but i share That’s that love of which I speak What is height and what is peak, I found my stories in zooming in
Yeah yeah, and that is how it went down on the 4th of June 2021.
I believe that if you had read any of these poems on their own, you would get a part of the picture. Now you see them together, I think it’s a more wholesome picture. Tell us what you think, and see you next time.
