Early Mornings

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.

Lust.

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.

Continue reading “Lust.”

Daddy’s Princess


I heard these words eight years ago in a movie –

“Whatever you do; wherever you go
always remember you’re daddy’s princess”

Whenever the devil tries to guilt me.
This line is always a reminder that I am,
and will always be God’s princess.

No matter how far I go;
Whenever I return,
I will always have my place
secure in my father’s house.

I am not a stranger.

Top 15 Lessons in the First Three Months of 2019.

Here are the top things I learned in the first three months of the year.

  1. God is interested in every aspect of your life no matter how minute.
  2. Fear will cripple you. Tell the devil to keep his useless gift.
  3. There’s a very thin line between kindness and foolishness.
  4. Love is not only the expression acceptable to show; express your anger and disappointment too.
  5. Not everyone should be allowed see you bare and laid down. Guard your space.
  6. Your eyes disappear and your face is funny when you laugh; but do it anyway.
Continue reading “Top 15 Lessons in the First Three Months of 2019.”

Are you for God?

This morning, a question popped into my head.

‘Are you for God?’

I immediately replied, ‘Yes, of course. That’s a dumb question’

But then I’ve been thinking about it all day. Am I really for God or do I just do the surface level ‘good’ things in hopes to earn points from the ‘big guy up there’ so that he’ll be ‘nice’?

I’ll give an example. A few weeks ago, I prayed to God for the restoration of a friendship that was on rocky grounds. That night, the friend reached out to me and surprisingly, I wasn’t excited. It turns out I really didn’t want that friendship to be mended. I just wanted to be the ‘good’ person in God’s eyes. But we can’t mock God.

Oh, another example is my constant search of how close I get to doing the wrong things without actually doing them. How long can stay angry for? I waited until I was about to sleep before I replied that friend – because the bible says ‘don’t let the sun go down on your anger’. I was more worried about going to hell if I didn’t wake up the next day than keeping the peace.

How revealing is too much for my clothes? How vulgar is too vulgar? This one is a huge one – how far away is too far to love someone from? I can literally quote bible verses and tell you all Jesus did to validate my reason for cutting off relationships. Proverbs 4:23 is my absolute fave verse; ‘Above all else, guard your heart’. And my favourite sentence to pull out? – ‘Jesus wasn’t friends with the Pharisees. He loved them from afar‘.

While these verses/interpretations are valid, I made them the bedrock of my lifestyle. I ascribed this attitude toward wisdom but have recently realized that they were excuses. What happened to the numerous verses about loving like Jesus loved us? If Jesus was loving me from as far away as I was loving people I would be wretched. And what about the verse about forgiving others seventy times seven times a day?

Continue reading “Are you for God?”

Home.

I was able to put this together after months of being under a creative dry spell. I hope you enjoy it. If you have any tips for me to get over this block don’t hesitate to drop them in the comments, please.

            *                       *

A lone tear rolled down my left cheek as my mother ignored my nagging and struggled to pull the comb through my thick, afro hair. I shuddered, imagining little blobs of blood forming on my scalp.

Maami, it hurts!’

We were outside in the hut-like building where the bicycles and hula hoops slept at night. It was the place maami made us stay because she knew that if baami saw my tears, he would rescue me from her smooth, long, shaven legs that were tightly wrapped around my torso.

I wondered if I would ever grow up to be like her. She was beauty in itself. Speaking with purpose and eloquence. When she walked, her hips swayed from side to side with force. It was her big bum-bum that caused it to move that way. “Shine-shine baby!” The Igbo man selling shirts on the corner of the house always hailed her with his two hands raised to the sides of his face in salutation.

As she weaved my hair into a neat Shuku Ologede, her hands pressed my head closer between her thighs and her index finger lightly tapped my head in rhythm. I didn’t mind it. She didn’t smell like Iya Yewande, who oozed an unpleasant rotten fishy smell when she pushed my head between her fat thighs, almost in a bid to push me in and give me a rebirth.

Continue reading “Home.”