Chasing Shadows


Men search all their lives for what has been right in front of them.
Trashing gold and chasing Shadows
Could it be the difference in font sizes making their mind choose superiority over relevance?


How shallow can man’s mind be???
A desperate quest for a test not given detesting all it has been equipped with.
Ohhh……comparison, man’s self constructed blind fold kidnaps him to a dump where pumps no longer make sense until it releases a shrieking sound like that of Ngozi.
Forgetting Zee sounds in no way like Y neither does it come before it but leaves words incomplete with it’s absence.


My heart can’t cry more than the king of Glory’s as he hands another years waited mantle to handle.
If you don’t handle that mic it will be given to another.
If you don’t start speaking now another is right behind you to take over
If you don’t start and see less of how imperfect you may sound and focus on strength from Calvary nothing will vary when another takes your place.
Start!!!


Ebube
© 2021

ONESIMUS

That you might receive him forever, no longer as a slave—a beloved brother… Philemon 1: 15-16

I’m a fugitive fleeing from punishment
A slave mortgaging with my destiny
Transecting my soul with transgression

A man finds me whose father
sentenced to death two thousand years ago
Says his name is Grace and he won’t let me go


Wraps warm hands around me
till his love fills me to overflow
Like rainwater filling a cistern

I died“, he says but now I live forever
And if you let me, I can wipe away your past too, forever.”

Ayooluwa Olasupo Ìmísí
©2021

I Am Enough

This feeling of inadequacy is clogging up fears In my throat I’m struggling to breathe in ENOUGH air for a day
I’m struggling to see the light my ART shines in dark tunnels
I’m struggling to see the FREEDOM bursting like light in many hearts

I stare at the stage and wish I were behind the pulpit
Spewing sleek words that must have been dry-cleaned for years
I yearn for the cameras to click on my face as I sashay even though I know my art isn’t a hundred percent

I forget I’m enough at where I am because I take my lessons
That I don’t have to prove a point, I only have to study and write my tests so every day, I can look at the score sheet, at the improving grades
And thump my chest, knowing, believing in the goodness of this PROCESS.

Everyday, I’m enough
I’m enough as who I am and who I’m evolving into

Ifiokabasi Okop
© 2020

The Bleeding Heart

The blood she shed was all her own.
She’d found no way to staunch the flow
For twelve long years.
The cost to her in doctors’ care
Was nothing to her shame and her enormous fears.
Unclean and thus untouchable
She knew she’d live and die alone in blood and tears.

The world had turned its back on her
And all she saw and all she touched was tinged with red.
Denied the right to worship God,
Denied the Temple courts by law, her soul was dead.
Denied all comfort, love of friends
And touch of man, she kept alone her blood-stained bed.

Her last hope lay in this new man,
But with her touch she’d make him, too, unclean, outcast.
And should she even hope for help?
Of all the people God might heal she was the last.
For it was God who sent the curse,
The blood and shame, the loneliness, through Laws He passed.

In spite of all these doubts and fears,
Mistrust of God, she took her chance – a touch unseen.
Then, Jesus, the untainted, changed the Law to Love.
Her world became new, fresh and green.

The blood He shed was all his own,
And flowing down it covered her and washed her clean.

Pamela Urfer
© 2021

LOT’S BROTHER-IN-LAW

Take me back to Gwags;
Let me remake the lags and crags that tripped me forward into UNN.
I thought myself a goner, no Arsenal, and yet I won the war with a few good men.

Barely two years into
UNN my issues
Pointed me to people
Who would grow me into
Feet that would fill great shoes
Burst ma brain, no pimples
I ran into you people
Now I’m pretty grateful

So if you take me back to Gwags
I won’t need the swag
That once was a must-have
No, right now, I have Christ
That sure peace I roll on
That faith is my profession

Tertiary choices once lay ahead of me
A barrier between
the now then and this
I chose first indeed
But God will have his

Abrahaming through lands,
I was my own Isaac – the Son was in the Man

God asked for my sacrifice
I kept dodging all his eyes
I thought that I was wise
Arguing through all his whys

But let me remake
The crags and lags that made
me trip into UNN
Let’s see what happened then…

The Niel Quchi
© 2020

His Will, My Will

I love my freedom, it is my human right
Nobody can take it from me – they mutter
This attitude to life resonates “It does not matter”
Bringing in its wake much piercings and hurt

The human will though a beauty to behold,
Allows us to be who we want to be unperturbed
And to do what we want to do- undisturbed
Left unchecked, wounds multitudes untold

Truly, the world is filled with so many evils
Emanating from some freedom gone wild
Evils perpetrated by men of consciences-seared
Leaves behind so much sorrow and ills

Over 2000 years ago, someone thought of himself less
King of kings and Lord of all came visiting, cloaked in humility
Left his domain, came to our wicked world proclaiming liberty
Freedom from sin, replaced with dominion previously lost

When I placed my faith in Jesus, he gave me power over sin
His will now reigns supreme above my freedom- so cherished
Now I can say yes to my father’s revealed will – as my savior did
Making my world safer, brighter than it had earlier been

Ajegbomogun Olufunke
© 2020

Crippled Mind

A farmer caught a pigeon
Inside a cage, he nurtured it
Now, the farmer to the bird, was mean
He deprived it of life’s necessities.

The bird was kept in the house
Denied access to sunlight,
It grew up believing in the non-existence of light
After all, it never saw the outside world.

Years later the farmer died
And the farmer’s son, aloud said:
“I have no need for this bird
It is old and as good as dead”

Out he took the cage,
Its door he opened expecting flapping wings,
The bird which should have flown in rage
Stood there, paralysed with astonishment.

The farmer took the bird out of the cage
And carefully set it on its feet
The bird with wings flew not
Its mind was already crippled.

Many of us are like this proverbial bird
JESUS CHRIST has set us free
But still, we hold tight to the past
Refusing to let go of a slave’s mentality

We all have been redeemed
Let’s free ourselves from an old slavery
Let’s soar to higher heights
And not be crippled by our pasts.

Ajegbomogun Olufunke
© 2020

Rape Rep

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