Four Letters: Ruth


I feel loved and owned, on God
A quarter of the way there and yet enthroned, I trust
Like the Love of God is spread abroad and we’re all touched
Yeah we’re all touched
Small words from her smirk and in all the multiverse I blushed
Lord, I thank you from all of my heart, on God
I’ve never regretted taking this path, I trust

My mom told me a story,
About a woman of her country
Who met a young man, and fell in love with him
He didn’t seem so bad, his people were famed
They dated for a while and then they got married.
The woman’s new home was made of six people.
The Patriarch and his Wife,
The First Son and the woman
The Second Son and his Wife
The Patriarch and his wife came to this woman’s country
With some golden bravery
And the First son’s marriage was a big celebration
Because the Second was already married.
But not long after, the three men died suddenly
And the grief collapsed the whole family
Post-grief, With no grand kids
from her newlywed sons, both now deceased
The Patriarch’s Wife decided she would release the younger women
Let them remarry.
I am old, she said
Let me return to my country

And the Patriarch’s Wife left the town much richer
But now without her husband, and her sons never saw home. Hurrying on the bus,
she couldn’t help but feel followed.
Maybe it was the killers of her men, who knows?
She pushed and slid into her seat
Then froze, that woman was seating by the window
Her First son’s wife
She sat down.

The two women returned to the land of the Patriarch.
The older woman was born there, she ought to sit a matriarch
But now without the respect of when she first embarked,
She returned with the woman and an urge to attack
Anyone who said anymore, “Thank God you’re back!”

Meanwhile the woman went into the city and she found work.
Beautiful and sweaty when she’d concentrate
Very soon, someone spun it to the Boss
There’s this new worker they’ve been warning me about
Boss said chill, I will see her on my rounds

Of course

When He saw her there was no harm in her moves
Head down, numbered of the very least staff
But then she was beautiful
Days later those staff were getting special treatment
Days later only she was getting special treatment
She told the Patriarch’s wife of her predicament
The Old Lady asked, “what’s the name of the Boss? “
And when she replied, the Old Lady gasped
The woman shivered a little.
Had death followed them back here to be total?
The Old Lady said, you are very very blessed.
That man is my kin and you know his intents
Withdraw from his gaze, then go when I’ve said.
And you may have found yourself a bright future
God is thanking you for helping me with my chore

And so the woman found a husband in her dead husband’s hometown
And this time, they lived happily ever after.

How do I know?
Well because my name is Jesse.
And it’s my story too.

Godzniel
©2026

Redemption Memo

It began like this…

Clad in purple and linen, cat-walking with stiletto strapped feet,
I miss my steps

Fall into a gully of mud
Stumble into the midst of men mouthing profanity

Stench ooze from me like box of putrid egg

I become crafter of maleficence, of deeds done in darkness

Yet, I am of tender days than to perpetuate impurity
You, of purer eyes than to behold iniquity.

Lord, seems mother said you do not appose your eyelids like the sons of men?

But why are these befalling me
Or why should I be falling?

Like Martha, this is how I feel:
Lord if you had been here, my soul would not have been ensnared in the tempter’s trap

Now I come with a bunch of sins, my back bent into a hunch

Have mercy on me, Lord, have mercy and vanquish this vile!
Let these things cease, like when you stilled the storm

Will you discard the memento of your purchase?
The one you stamped by your blood on the tree, like Rahab’s scarlet cord hung over the window in Canaan?

Up till now, the spies are over the gate of my soul, watching, waiting to devour & divide me as a spoil—this moribund mortal

But the redemption of my soul is costly,
And in it, you promised sin shall not have dominion over me

This is why tonight, I recite to you the memorandum of my redemption
I hope you heed my cry and help me.

Ayooluwa Olasupo Ìmísí
©2021

It was the happiest day of my life

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

Letter I

Dear Believer,

Christ has not come to mould you in guilt
but manifested to destroy the fiery fright
of hell
and release thee from inferiority cell

for you’re a chosen generation
priest in kingly mansion
you’re a god
with big God

Yeshua is not here for your eviction
but all the way to the cross, it is redemption;
from thy saviour
you conquered the forces and its emperor

for you’re made a battleaxe,
weapon of war
to break the devil’s ass
and send his men trembling by thy roar

Jesus died for all thy sins
leave the screen
and stop watching the old scenes,
you already have a holy gene!

for unto us, Christ is made righteousness
in pure holiness
in perfect sanctification
and accomplished redemption

hey,
what else?

Josh’ Oloyede Oluwafemi
©2020

Who Is Jesus 2

JESUS is our hope.
In this gross darkness in which we grope,
He’s our solution, not just a way to cope!
So even in the midst of recession, confusion, depression, oppression,
He stands as our resurrection,
Life in all its perfection!
JESUS is our prince
JESUS is our peace…
All at the same time.

JESUS is timeless.
He has been, He will be
His reign is endless
He has conquered hell and the grave
All power belongs to HIM and He alone can save
He was there from the beginning,
He’ll be there till the end
He’s not just our saviour,
He’s our friend!
JESUS is the Alpha
JESUS is the Omega…
All at the same time

Damaris
© 2020

Who Is Jesus

JESUS is…
The greatest hero in the greatest tale ever told,
The mighty king who left his estate of gold
Not for ‘snow white’
No.
For people whose garments were far from bright,
People who interpret wrong as right,
People whose eyes had never known light
JESUS is our knight in shiny armour,
He’s our prince charming in all his splendour…
all at the same time

JESUS is God disguised as man
Divinity masked in humanity,
The All Powerful cloaked in humility.
The Creator who meekly stands at the door of the created,
Calmly calling out to all who are broken, all who need their hearts mended
Calling out to the weak, the sick, to all people, to all nations
Offering the free gift of redemption!
JESUS is a superman
JESUS is a gentleman…
All at the same time

JESUS is God’s extension cord of love.
Love… nothing short of divine, sent from above.
Laying it all on the line,
He gave his life and took on mine
Freely, he gave us freedom
Choosing to make us a part of his kingdom!
He rescued us from the sentence of our sins,
And our lives haven’t been the same ever since!
JESUS is the Lion,
JESUS is the Lamb…
All at the same time

Damaris
© 2020

What in the world

What, in the world, does a plus sign
Have to do with Redemption?
Like, this math is flawed.
Go figure.

What, in God’s heaven, does precious gold
Have to do with street grounds?
Like a mat is, floored.
Go figure.

Dem dey go, dem dey go, mass choir.
Singing Hallelujah. Trumpeters.

Join the congregation.
Don’t miss it.
Because, flawed as it is.
The maths will begin
When this mass is ended.

And we’ll go in the Peace of Christ.
To love and serve the Lord.
Amen.

Nonso John
©2019

TALE OF THE HEAVENS

Far away
Away as the waters that once finds its dwelling at shore

How far is far
Are you talking about endless oceans or a stary sky?

I have lost my rhythm at the sound of the endless ocean
Scared to trace the pathway
Which I once trusted as the Broadway

The way to the Broadway can be deceptive
But we are receptive to the leading of the rhythm within
The one that leads to the path of life

The path of life
The crown of eternity
Grizzled with Gold and emerald
Joining the Herald
The cherubs and seraphs in the song of redemption

The very redemption that liberates
The one that exposes me to my strengths
The joy is unending
This song ushers me to rivers of living water

Most times I hear more about angels singing
But poetry is hardly talked about
Does the angel write?
Is poetry their kind?

If they ever wrote I wonder what colour the words displayed
But I think to myself, if Christ is a poet then maybe their is a trace that leaves clues

Maybe they write in blue
Or green, or pink,
No, I think golden, because of the golden scroll
Maybe not
Maybe black or brown or no color
Maybe their ways is a mystery to unravel

I think a greater mystery to unravel is the way they study their master through us, the chosen once, the once who have given themselves to the Word

It teaches me the true way of a living master
That conquered me in my rebellion
Adonai
That divided the river Nile

The Niles hear and see
They are receptive to the masters voice
Same way they can be with ours
Cause the signet has been placed on us

Imani Dokubo
The Alchemist
© 2019