Who I Am


What is in your hand
Hope you understand
Talent on demand
Still no special gland
Innovation and
Information crammed
The point is who I am
Too saved to be damned
Spiritually armed

Jesus in a man
Problems try to swarm
Solve ‘em up like tan
Money became the plan
Naira, Cedi or Rand
But the race that I ran
One particular man
Turned me into a lamb
A spiritual RAM
Follow up applicants
Why fight over land
When I’m heir to the stars
Why cry over yams
When I’m loved by “I am”

Nielquchi
(C) 2021

Christ Is Enough


These fleshy hunger pangs, could leave the mind blind.
Quite often the seeds the word since sowed, get crushed because I’m on my grind.
“My brother hustle o, that money we dey find”
quick to forget the search I’m in is of a kingdom kind.

Always remember
to choose Christ, is not really to choose
I remember thinking what it is am I even to lose
these
earthly offers are rather vain, and merely a ruse
the Godfather made an offer I couldn’t refuse.

Ini Brown
(C) 2021

BREAD OF LIFE

I’ve seen the rich
Hustling to breathe
For a living
I wish their wealth
Could afford them good health
But money failed

I’ve seen Damsels
Adorned in White linen
Married to the morgue
I wish all that glitters
Sparkles forever
But beauty is vague

Why the quest for fame
Why the bloated ego
Why the cravings
And exaggerated feelings
If all that fuels our pride
Fails the test of time

What’s the use of the lungs
If it does not long for air
A salt without it taste
Is a domestic sand
A life without the Maker
Is hanging on a live wire

No matter the bliss
In the dinning table of affluence
No union is greater than communion
Until you eat the bread of life
Any other bread you eat is Agege bread

A life without Christ
Is a life of stasis, vices, lysis and Crisis

King Uwe
© 2020

Letter to Ola #5

Dear Olaedo,

On Prayers

I wish I could write ‘PRAYER WORKS‘, drop the mic and hope you would understand enough to appreciate the depth of that truth.

Perhaps, after I tell you the story of my friend, Onuegbu, you would understand better. To protect his identity, we’ll call him Onuegbu. He and I became friends in 2013. He calls me his best friend although I don’t feel worthy of the title. His life is devoid of true friendship which perhaps is why he considers the little I offer the best he has ever had.

Onuegbu has a beautiful heart and sees only the good in people. I have never heard him talk ill of anybody even when people constantly leave his back fiercely itching after he has done a thorough job scratching their backs.

Nobody wants to drown with a drowning person.

Life is not as fair to him as he is to life’s benefactors.

Onuegbu has sickle cell anemia and ordinarily, he may have been able to cope comfortably if well treated but his financial state is so unstable, he could barely eat, let alone afford medications.

His health got so bad that his family abandoned him and he was left alone to cater for himself. Being his friend has its dark side. He always needs company. It helps in distracting him from the pains of stiffening bones and excruciating pains.

I think talking about his problems is a form of therapy for him so even when my own life is crashing, I would stay on the phone for hours and listen to him complain.

The difficulty in feeding is the most heartbreaking part. He would call and ask for as little as a transfer of N500 to eat as he had not eaten all day.
I prayed first in 2015 for his healing. Oh well, it continued. I prayed again in August 2020. This time, I fasted for 3 days.

He wanted to give up. He was ready to commit suicide. His hustle has been fruitless. The lack of capital wasn’t helping matters. Each time he got a little money to put into something, his health would knock him down and he would use the money to pay hospital bills.

He was in so much anguish and I couldn’t take it. I prayed and fasted for a way; for something to work for him. I kept asking how he felt from time to time as I prayed but nothing changed. (Ha. I was tired oh. What’s all this nah?)

It can be frustrating when you can do little to alleviate such pain from a friend’s life. The darkness is contagious. (You don’t contact the sickle cell silly. You just drown in misery alongside him).

This was us until we got a glimmer of hope yesterday.

I replied to a tweet by Ozzy Etomi on Twitter yesterday and talked about my anemic friend and his ordeal in a brief yet explicit manner.

It got a lot of reactions and comments from people sending their love and light, and other anemic people saying that sickle cell anemia can easily be lived with but with medications and good food which involves money.
One particular man replied and asked me to give his international number to my friend to contact him as he would like to be of assistance!
Glory!

We’ll be calling our man ‘Godsent’.
Onuegbu chatted up Godsent on WhatsApp and after a long talk, GodSent said he will set up a business fully for him.

Did I cry? Yes. The pieces of my thankfulness were all over the place and I wished I could mould it into a clay medal of thankfulness and present it wholly to God.

Instead, I sang ‘Great is thy faithfulness’, then muttered words in tongues, then exploded in laughter after which crying followed.
The crying and laughter started happening so concurrently that I couldn’t differentiate my laughter from my cry.

Long pause.

Tongues again.

Plain words of gratitude.

Blast of memories.

Feelings of inadequacy because I could not mould a perfect ‘thank you’.

I curled up and breathed softly knowing that even my breath was drawing invisible strokes of thankfulness in the air.

Your Mama


ChyD

©2020

And Grace Found Me


And grace found me at the foot of the steps where I stumbled
He led me into a reverie of affections
And taught me how to make love with my emotions

And Grace found me picking doubt from my rag toothed skeleton
He asked me how I’d survived without the love of Christ
In the oxygen depleted pond of atheism

And Grace found me remunerating inside the tunnel of avarice
For the love of money is the stem that upholds deception
Broken dry Reed called Egypt that can’t be any souls trust

And Grace found me lingering about the field of blood
Waiting to retrieve the thirty pieces of silver
Instead of shouting maranatha with the 120 in the upper room

And Grace found me in the valley of mundane things
Brazilian hair, iPhone 6x, faultless make up, designer dresses
And all those cravings that sounds strange to Holy Mary

And Grace found me yet he wasn’t judgmental
He asked me why I was still babbling in unknown tongues
Instead of fellowshipping with the Holy Spirit

And Grace found me with the gift of a clean shave
Got rid of my eagle-feathered hair and bird claw nails
It’s been seven millennia wandering in the field of unbelief
I’d never imagined going through such quick transformation
Like Joseph’s speedy status change
Until I was discovered by Grace

Rebekah E.
© 2020

SUICIDE

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