Wednesday, March 25, 2015


There’s so many things I’d love to tell the world; things I know and know not of, things I believe in and things I doubt absolutely, things I fear and things I confront courageously, things I succeeded at and the others that dubbed me a failure. These lessons are like a turbulent tide in my mind, seeking an outlet . . . seeking release.

This is to the children; youth; girls struggling with crushes, low self esteem, annoying mothers, overbearing fathers, ambition, rules and pain; people whose today are my yesterdays.

This is for girls struggling with things mama doesn’t understand. For girls whose pastors say to their mamas “Hey, your girl isn’t normal. You should get her to the deliverance sessions”, when all they are, is different.

This is for girls growing up alone even though everyone around her could lend a helping hand. This is for the girl putting up the fa├žade of a tough exterior when the inside reeks of decaying flesh.

This is for the girls wishing they had what others had even though others didn’t have what they had; for little women straining to make snowballs from the mist.

This is for girls whose backs are broken from the weight of obligation; girls charred from the heat of juggling dreams that are not theirs.

This is for girls constantly looking in mirrors that only tell them that they just aren’t enough. This is for that lass who cannot admit that she loves a part of herself just because all eyes stare at that part with disdain.

This is for the girl who knows but is knocked down every time she dares believe that she’s more than breasts, buttocks and kitchen utensils. This is for the young women who walk faced down because their brown bodies cannot take the shape of an hour glass.

This is for girls whose realities are based on myth and mirages. This is for girls whose tear glands are strained from over-secretion.

This is a new year. This is the dawn of a new era. This is a new life. This is time for a new “you”. At the beginning of Joshua’s ministry, God said to him, “Moses is dead, arise…” You are now at that point where God is saying to you “The old you is dead so arise.” This is the point where nothing else matters except what God has to say about you, unto you and through you. This is the time when you become who God has destined you to be and has programmed you to manifest.

Do I sound too spiritual? Well, this is time to be spirit-minded if the physical and all other realms in which you operate in will receive life. Many times, we try to write things like this with our wits and savvy but I’m convinced that what I have to tell you cannot be compared, by any standard, to what God has to say to you concerning the same situation.

If who your peers, your parents, that man and even you say you are doesn’t mirror what God has already said about you, you shouldn’t be listening to them. You must learn to rise above rumors, random opinions and heresy when you are concerned. You must define to yourself who you really are and must refute anything contrary to that.

You are better than your deficiency; that bad skin, bad relationship, guilt or even habit. You are brighter than the depression that eats deep into you or even the failures you have to show for your endeavors. You are exceedingly mightier than lack and the pain that tears through your heart each time you think about your problems. You are simply greater than who you have been no matter the reasons that justify the state of your past. You have the life of Christ in you and are created in the image and likeness of God. This means that all you have been subject to, are now to be subject to your own authority.

You are beautiful   You are special      You are loved         You are wonderful
You are not abnormal       You are extraordinary     You are talented
You are wanted      You are strong       You are courageous                   You are visionary
You are bold          You are healthy      You are wealthy     You are excellent

You are appreciated        You are God’s beloved

Monday, March 2, 2015



I sat with two older, smart men today and answered a bunch of questions being thrown at me as though it were an interview. The difference was that they were trying to know me, understand how my mind works and generally, just make good conversation. I was in the mood today. I answered questions I’d usually get defensive about as best I could. Do you know what I call good conversation? It is that talk laden with lessons and a truckload of laughter. I’m a sapiosexual person so sitting in the midst of two men bellowing with laughter and carting away tangible life lessons was absolute bliss. At some point, I mentioned that I am a writer/blogger and I was asked for my URL. One of them, instantly checked it out and I don’t know what particular article they were looking at- because I was on the other end of the table- but they looked at each other and blurted “What inspires you to write?” For some reason I couldn’t blurt out the answer to that question just as soon. I started rummaging through my mind for an inspired response. Well, I think I found one because I started giving them an answer, at least before one of them stopped me short. “You know this is not a TV show right?  What really inspires you?” Just then, one of them read through a line or two and then I realized where they were coming from.

Apparently, they had read a line addressed to mothers and some things I felt they were not doing right with respect to their teenage kids and thought that perhaps, I must have had a rough childhood. That must have been my inspiration. Of course I refuted that perception. I had a beautiful childhood despite the fact that I had a lot of drama with my mum during my teenage years. After a very remarkable discussion filled with practical instances of parent-children relations we had experienced, I left. Then I left and started thinking about what the answer to that initial question really is.

Here it is:
§  I am inspired by the reality that my thoughts, ideas and stories can color a life somewhere. I really don’t care about how it plays out but my creative juices flow turbulently each time it strikes me that my writing could be “it” for someone out there.

§  I am inspired by the stories, tales and impressions of writers before me, especially African writers. It intrigues me that the same heritage, people and world can birth accounts so diverse and rich yet so fundamentally alike. It makes me want to see where I fit in the picture.

§  I am inspired by freedom; the free reins given to the mind to communicate its strengths, weaknesses, fantasies, pains and inventions in any way it deems fit. The ease that comes with bearing burdens after they have been transferred to paper.

§  I am inspired by heritage; the quest to find and define who I am as it grapples with the foreign elements that strive to lay claim on a part of me.

§  I am inspired by my experiences. It’s amazing how some of the most potent words are birthed by reflections upon encounters, no matter how irrelevant they might have seemed at the time of occurrence.

§  I am inspired by love, beauty, nature and even evil. How can I not say anything about a world drowning in tides of tears as it loses its essence to darkness?

§  I am inspired by the thought of being called inspired.

I am grateful to my friends for asking me that question. The year is still young and this is a right time to define essence of who you are and what drives you. Remind yourself of why you do the things you love or ought to do. They could be the answers to the questions you’ve been asking for long.

Happy New Month…
Happy New Year My Lovelies.

Since you’re just seeing the first of me this year, I’m expecting the “happy new year” compliments and of course feedback on this post. So kindly drop your comments below.