Tag: women

Proof

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Your mercy still stand even when life shake me like generator wey no get fuel and when storm raise voice like market women, Your peace calm am, even JBL speakers no loud reach this truth.

I don waka inside fire, yet Your grace na the forth man for that furnace. Blessings wey full my hand, na only your fingerprint fit produce am.

My past be wan dey try drag me back like conductor wey no get change, but the cross sharpaly calm am down. 

As your nails write my freedom na so your blood sign am like court truth. For heaven courtroom, Jesus stand gidigba which living proof reach that one Abeg 

Him love no dey reduce; na so every trial dey shrink like cloth wey see hot water. Even when darkness wan argue, Your light flash am like police for check point, proof wey no dey whine.

When fear dey whisper like thief for backyard, Your Word shout “who goes you!” back.

I dey wake every day because Your covenant cover me like aluminium zinc for rainy roof. And my life? The testimony loud gan, na megaphone wey go always shout: God’s love go always be the final proof.

UbdaPoet
©2025

Dear Black Child

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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.

Parent Thing

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Hail Mary, full of Grace…

Tell mothers their children are gifts with gifts in them. Not slaves who who will give birth to more slaves.

The Lord is with you, blessed art thee…

Tell fathers the world is changing, toxic masculinity is not therapy for the trauma.

Amongst women, and blessed is the fruit…

Tell children; your parents are gods. Adore and revere them. But never be afraid to tell them how you feel or pursue your dream. Deal with your trauma before bringing another kid into this world. Honour and respect all humans equally, God is the greatest, and madu abuho chukwu.

Of your womb…


Parenting is a partnership between parents and their kids. And like all partnerships, as long as the other partner is rational enough to think, their opinion on matters that concern them should be considered, too. You can be a good man, a good woman, but if your kids are not doing well, you will be tagged a bad parent. What does it tell you? The child holds a stake in this parenting business. Consider, build and uplift them. Not entirely in the conventional way, but in the way that is convenient for you and them.

now and at the hour of our death, amen

Ice Nwa Ǹkwọ
©2020

Rape Rep

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I represent the biggest scums of the century.
I represent one of the greatest threats to women globally.

Your body is already a beautiful battlefield. A rose with thorns torn apart by it’s blueprint. It is not enough that your body cries rose-coloured tears monthly, some members of my gender have turned your pores into drawers for stashing away years of frustration. Tiny portals of escape, from which they seek prison-breakthroughs. Scofielding along your orchards, fuelled by animalistic passions.

Do something
That’s what I’m trying to say
Show me I am worth the pain, give me hope to a fault; tell me life has a meaning

That’s what I read in your diary
I am what you blame for dying, greet
One of the biggest
scum in existence
Women, they fear me
My favourite victims
…Men mostly in prison.
I am traumatizing

We’ve got a new brand for the parents
Comes with the power to pay rent
Found out I am recycling
Let’s leave the topic quietly
I’ve come from an old day
People started that way
Ignoring any volition
But theirs, until…

Ice Nwa Ǹkwọ
Niel Quchi
© 2020

Water is wine

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Day by day
My broken will and dream cry unto me
Fighting, screaming loud for a better way
But futile is this game, all is lost to me

Tell me who knows, who knows
The real definition of birth and living
Tell me who knows, who knows
The open mystery of death and parting
Often I’ve heard men say
I’m not pragmatic, not practical

Often I’ve seen women point this way
Whispering be strong, be spiritual
Men and their subtle ideas
Have rightly led me astray
And I am not more or less
But a rotten carcass on a rugged way

The wisdom of king Solomon is good
But our Shepard’s Will is excellent
For by the cross and its humble blood
Water is wine, weakness is strength
Despair is hope and death is life in Christ

Ugwu David. C
© 2019

I KNOW A WOMAN

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I know a woman who is beautiful in form, in heart and in works. creative and strong-willed she is

I know a woman who had a business that wouldn’t yield increase. Friends and neighbours advised her to venture into other businesses other than hers.

I know a woman who wouldn’t listen to idle talks nor take discouragement to heart, refusing “can’t do” for an answer.

I know a woman who didn’t stop trying, remained focused and expectant, that latter days would speak for itself.

I know a woman who prayed her way through, had a filter in her ear and achieved with God as chief.

I know a woman who after few years is envied by many, celebrated by the high and low including her friends and neighbours that thought she couldn’t succeed there.

I know a woman who didn’t give up on her dreams, but fought the odds and won in style.

I know a woman who understands the power of God mighty in all and of a god that she is, not letting circumstances stop her.

I know a woman who can rise when she falls, virtuosity personified, and happy that she never let go of God and herself.

I know a woman who can PERSEVERE

-Michelle

The Queen

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It’s past 3am in the morning
Coffee’s mouldy
Food is cold
His queen sits on the couch waiting.
Worried sick all morning.
Her knight in shining armour is yet to return.
Where could he be?
What could he be doing?
This time of the night or is it day.
The thoughts in her mind refusing to stay at bay.
Her train of thought is broken just like the silence.
She hears keys jangling somewhere in the darkness.
Relief and anger, joy and bitterness; flood her all at once, in that very instant.
She stands to her feet, prepared for his entrance.
He walks through the door, face riddled with exhaustion.
She begins to question, with fear in her voice
“Where have you been?!”, her voice all torn up.
He stands all the while staring, waiting for her to stop, the shudder in his chest with every word that dropped.
She stops to swallow and he sees his chance.
He pulls her close and hugs her tight.
He closes his eyes and hugs her tighter, the thoughts on his mind brought so much laughter.
The walk down the aisle.
The courtship that lasted for more than a while.
The oath of chastity they both took.
The moment he tapped her shoulder, and she turned to look.
The prayer he made before he could ask her.
The thanksgiving he gave when he finally married her.
And he also remembers…
The sigh of relief as he left that hotel.
The memories of last night he didn’t want to tell.
The wrong group of friends.
The wrong boys and girls.
The wrong kind of drinks.
The clock seemed to not tick.
Next thing he knew, he was with a strange woman.
About to maybe fornicate, sin that very moment.
But he called to remembrance…
In a microsecond, he saw the sacrifice of Jesus.
Cos he saw the wine and it cut like a knife.
“What am I doing?!” as he staggered to the door.
He ran out the door and next to his car
He thought of his ribs and remembered one more.
The love of his life, his one and only wife.
“I thank you O God for saving my life?”.
He ran to his house and opened the door.
His queen in sight, all teary and hurt.
He held her so tight and wouldn’t let her go.
He had touched the fire and was able to go.
His queen looked at him with love in her eyes.
She asked him again, “what happened last night?”.
He held her and smiled.
“God saved me last night”.
He wiped the tear in eyes and told her the truth.
She listened and heard and knew it was true.
He begged her forgiveness,”I wouldn’t do it again”.
But it was too late, her mind was made up.
Whatever he had done, she had already forgiven.
When he unlocked the door and confessed his dealings.

Just like my Jesus did.
He was willing to listen
As I begged on my knees, to cleanse me of all my sinning.

-Onubogu Somto