Early Mornings

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There’s this online magazine I read called Zikoko. I don’t think I can hype it up enough. It makes me laugh and cry and sometimes, the quizzes make me feel like the writers dabble in black magic because of how accurate the answers are for me.

This morning, I read something that made me very uncomfortable on their new segment where Nigerian young adults talk about their sex life – the good, the bad, the funny and the surprising. It’s called SexLife by the way in case you want to check it out.

I’m not going into details so read it yourself. Anyway anonymous tells us that his first encounter with a professional was not the greatest because they asked if he had ‘tried Jesus’.

TRIED JESUS! TRIED JESUS?

Hold your horses. While I am a firm believer in the power of Christ and his ability to set ‘captives’ free, I also believe in professionalism in the work place.

‘But Deb, the things of the spirit don’t make sense to the canal minded. We need to evangelize any and everywhere. Your church personality shouldn’t be different from your work personality…’

Okay why did this professional go to school to learn psychology or whatever they studied? Why didn’t they just go to bible school and sit in the church to pray for those who came WILLINGLY and asked for it? I mean if they aren’t going to use the professional methods to help others then what is the use?

I just think that if I go to a professional to speak about things going on in my life, that’s what I want to get. Do you understand me? Of course I know there is a God. I know about Jesus and prayer but I didn’t give you my hard earned money to ask me if I’ve tried Jesus.

Maybe after my session, when you have listened to me and realized I’m open to talking about Christ and prayer you can then bring it up. Like my mother used to say ‘kini gbogbo frapapa yen na’ (loosely translates to ‘what is all that rubbish’).

Let me know your thoughts on this please. Maybe my thought process is wrong.

Also don’t forget to check out Zikoko Magazine because they make my days better.

Ayonge.

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It’s been two years 
Yet I forget how to breathe - sometimes
Everyday is a reminder of how I failed you
On the day you needed me the most.
Ayonge, I will have to live with this burden
all the days of my life 
but I'm not complaining
I just hope I am forgiven.

The Other Side of Fear

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Let me let you in on a secret – I’m scared of water. It doesn’t matter if I’m knee deep or ankle deep. I just don’t like it.

So when my friend, N, suggested that we add jet skiing to our day trip plans, my immediate answer was a solid “hell to the no”. And I settled for rock climbing instead whilst she went into the water (gotta get these abs popping one way or another yh? LOL).

Don’t ask how I found myself on the passenger seat. I’m not really sure. She really knows how to get me because I went from ‘I would never’ to ‘fine, I’ll come to watch’ to screaming and laughing in the water.

And girl, it was so exciting. The wind, the water, the speed; I had never experienced such wonderfulness. I wasn’t even scared when the waves got really rough. All I saw was the beauty in it. It looked like someone had put a high-speed fan under a light blanket. Absolutely stunning.

We didn’t make it back to land before the heavy rain. Half of my makeup was gone (deffo looked like a clown), and my wig was a mess. That didn’t dampen the mood though. I wiped the rest of the makeup off my face, combed out my natural hair and was ready for the next adventure.

I have tasted and seen (that the Lord is good) the life on the other side of fear and it’s ridiculously exhilarating! There’s no stopping me now. Next stop is jumping out of the plane!

I’m kidding. That’s a hell to the no.

Unteachable

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Unteachable.

That’s what he called me before he banged the door and left for work.

We haven’t spoken in three days. Well, I haven’t spoken to him. He’s done a lot of speaking. The voice notes, the texts, the DMs, the emails, and when none of those worked – the flowers. He could always get me back with flowers. You know those green and white ones with purple streaks. I forget what they’re called. I wasn’t a flower person until I met him. Anyway, it’s not going to work this time. I have to let him know what being unteachable really means because I’m not that. Far from it.

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Lust.

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Let’s talk about lust, shall we?

No one really talks about the sin of lust anymore. It’s so normal in this generation. In fact, if you google it, you’d see articles telling you how lust can boost your immune system or increase your life span.

As a young child, whenever I saw someone I found attractive, I would look away immediately and ask God to forgive me for lustful thoughts. I didn’t want any smoke (quite literally – hell, but also from God). Thinking about it makes me laugh. If I could go back, I’d tell younger me to calm down because God wasn’t going to strike her for thinking Tolani had nice eyes.

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Built for love.

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Hello!

It’s been a while since I’ve talked to you. I’m not even going to sit here and lie – it was intentional. I was running away because I was embarrassed. I’m not the same person you met and I didn’t want you to see this part of me. However, I feel like I’m accountable to you as I have shared some parts of my journey with you, so I’m back to let you in.

The last time we spoke I told you my stance about showing love and being vulnerable. I said I had found a balance and everything was going to be finally perfect and yadiyadiya. Well, it turns out I tipped the scale. The girl who preached to be kind, loving, forgiving, honest and open is MIA.

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Final embrace.

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One last embrace
One last smell of your sweet smelling perfume
One last kiss on the softest of lips

Before your heart stops
As I hold your head
Rocking to the music we first danced to.

As I catch your last breathe,
And see your eyes open 
With that famous crooked smile 


One last time.

One last touch

One last hope 

One last chance


To say 'I love you'
Before your soul leaves 

And I'm left with only what held your essence


And a shattered heart.