The Most Dangerous Person In The World

 

Scene from the movie 'Project Power'

The first time I fell in love with Jamie Foxx's movies was in 2015. It was on the eve of the 2015 general elections in Nigeria and I had gone to spend the weekend at my cousin’s. While she went to bed, I stayed up to watch TV and from a DVD collection I selected ‘Django Unchained’ starring Jamie Foxx and Kerry Washington.

Django Unchained is the story of black slave, Django who risked his life to find his wife, Broomhilda who was also a slave and to buy her freedom. Django’s first task was to earn his freedom, this he did alongside the friendship of his ex-master, a white man unlike the rest in his day. They both set out to find Django’s Broomhilda not even knowing what city she was in or to whom she belonged.

It took a while, but Django eventually found his wife’s location. When he found her though, she wasn’t worth much as she had been abused, assaulted, raped and used. She was just an object to serve and pleasure whomever. She had so suffered that the thought of ever becoming free had become a dream too lofty to aspire to and the first time Django revealed himself to her, it was so surreal that she fainted. Anyway, Django negotiated, fought, lost, was beaten to pulp and sold again into slavery but he fought again, managed to escape and went back for his wife. By the time he was taking his Broomhilda home, he had burned down everything and everyone. The movie had me crying at intervals as I watched him train, prepare and dive head-on into danger. He could have had any other, could have started on a clean slate but he didn’t, his only motivation was love. *sniffs as she wipes tears again*

Fast forward to 5 years after (which was yesterday), I decided that I would see at least 2 movies this weekend and while searching for what to watch, I saw the movie title ‘Project Power’. I scanned past but my brain told my mind it cited Jamie Foxx on the poster, so I went back and there he was, flanked by others. I didn’t bother about the others on the poster, seeing Jamie was all the conviction I needed.

I got the movie, and just as I expected, it was totally worth it. Jamie came with his passion and this time he was driven by love for his daughter who had been kidnapped. I wouldn’t bore you with details of the movie but would gladly recommend it – it would be worth your time.

Jamie’s character had been dubbed the most dangerous man in the city and as I watched him go all out, against the system, I had to agree that he was a danger to himself and everyone else but his daughter.

This however is the case with anyone motivated by love as they lose sight of pride and even their safety because nothing else matters but the object of their affection. Whether it is the footballer who gives his all on the field, a businessman, inventor, chief executive, actor, parent, pastor, lover or student, love is the driving force of any success achieved. It is the reason you stay up when you should be in bed, stay in when you could be out, go out when you could have stayed in, give when you may not even have enough for yourself, try one more time when your body is tired, apologize when you are not even sure what you did wrong, and stay the course when you really want to give up. It is good old love making us surprise ourselves and everyone else till they have no choice but to applaud when our results speak.

Love, the force so powerful that it defies social, cultural, ethnic, religious, racial, psychological, philosophical, or biological barriers. It can turn a weakling to a warrior and have made warriors seem like weaklings. It protects, defends, and shields the object of its affection, sometimes blindly. In fact, anyone is normal until we fall in love with them, then they become perfect. If you doubt me ask a parent, or lover of an idea, movement, or person.

Love is so powerful that if not managed can become a danger, and this has been proven time and again by men who have sacrificed all and rejected even their families in pursuit of the thing or person they love. It is a heart thing and can never make sense from the point of logic, even science still cannot fully explain it.

Watching Jamie’s character in ‘Project Power’ not only made me cry but reinforced a belief I already had, which is that if you really want to see how dangerous a person can be, then go after the thing or person they love. Then you would realize that the most dangerous person in the world is not the one who is hungry or power drunk, but the one in love with a thing, ideology, system, or person – even if they are wrong.

I have wiped the tears from my eyes but as I end this, I hope that you do not settle for the thing or person you can live with, but find the courage to wait for and chase the thing or person you cannot live without.

Sunset: A Perfect Time To Kiss, Dance Or Say Goodbye

Sunsets,
We see them everyday and sometimes exercise the liberty of watching them or taking pictures of them, creating memories by ourselves or with those we love.
They are a reminder of the cycle called life, that every beginning has an end. They are one of the few things we are sure of, that for everyday that dawns, the sun will set - it's a constant.

Sunsets,
They are also proof of life's impermanence, that nothing really lasts forever - not things or men, including the ones we love and adore.
Like the curtains drawn at the end of a play or dance, they signal the end of a day, a performance, an era, a life.

Sunsets,

They can be beautiful but just like life, they are transient, lasting only a while, leaving us nothing but memories.
Memories that may last a lifetime, evoking feelings of moments passed, never to be seen or experienced and lived again.

Sunsets,
For some people, it is the perfect time to dance, share a kiss or simply sit still to enjoy the silence of a world falling asleep.
For others, they are a time to reflect and look back on the events of the day and more often than not, the events of a life that has reached its end, a soul saying goodbye as it bows out of the dance called life.

If the sun has set for your loved one, then this is for you and while I may not understand what you feel, I am sure the pain of your loss is real, raw and maybe even scary.
It may be a dreary season for you and your family but I hope that someday your heart mends, maybe not in the way it was before the pain but in a way that makes it stronger than pain.

I pray that you have enough hands to hold you through this phase, shoulders to lean on and memories of a life well lived to make you smile and laugh again.
I pray that you find the courage to face the days ahead and that you awake one morning to find one last tear.

I pray that you find grace and the comfort of the sweet Holy Spirit to bear this burden that must befall all.
I pray that the void created be filled, that you heal and that the you rise on the wings of the morning to days filled with sunshine, hearty smiles, laughter, love and music powerful enough to make you sway to life's rhythm again.

I pray.

N.B: I wrote this piece for a friend who lost a loved one weeks ago but I edited it and hope it speaks to your heart.

Courting Pain, The Kind Nobody Talks About

 

For the first time in a long while, he kissed your forehead and held you for longer than he has in months, but you know it is more out of habit than intention. He also fed you some of his plantain pottage at breakfast, but you know it was because he could not eat. Feeding you was a way of distracting you both from his inability to eat.

You wanted to talk about it, but you kept shut, like you have about many things recently.

Like his leaving books strewn all over the place, falling asleep fully clothed while watching TV, walking around as though searching for something, just staring blankly into space, mumbling to himself, not hearing when you talk to him, and the weight loss that has become so noticeable.

His eyes too seemed to have sunk into their sockets and had a soulless look. He had become a shadow of himself. His smile when he managed one was wry, his laughter mirthless, his gait languid, his speech slow and his eyes had a look that sometimes seemed like fear.

At first you thought it was a phase that would pass but weeks were turning to months and he seemed to be getting worse.You have tried massages and foot rubs, smothered him with kisses and left notes where he could read them, but none worked. You made a playlist of his favourite slow rock songs and even invited friends over, but he seemed to be getting distant with each gesture.

You kept hope that he would come around, but fear set in the day he dropped the glass in his hand spilling his drink as you were both laughing. He apologized and made to pick up the pieces and as he did, the broken fragments cut his hand. Though he bled, he didn't stop and even shoved you when you made to sweep the pieces. He evidently was not even feeling the pain and didn't mind that his blood flowed freely.

For the first time you were filled with fear as you realized you had been laughing with yourself all along, he was never present. That day it dawned on you that he was in deeper pain than you thought, one that was stronger than any physical hurt and the worst part was you not being able to do anything about it.

All you could do was watch while he dealt with his pain. 

The pain of losing his father was taking its toll on your husband in a way you never envisaged. He is the strongest man you know but losing his hero has borne a side to him you never knew existed. He has lost the spring in his steps, his back slouched when he sat, his voice guttural, his eyes had a longing, he seemed to be crying for help and for the first time you realized your love wouldn't be enough to pull him through.

You have both weathered storms together but this time, he was alone in the storm and try as you might, he wouldn't let you in. This pain was personal and even you would not be allowed in.

To watch a loved one in pain and to be unable to help them is a kind of pain people never really talk or write about. They tell you to support them by being there for them but do not tell you what to do when they shut you out, when they hold you without really feeling you, when they look at you but do not see you. You are learning that sometimes pain comes in unexpected forms and that it can be acquired, the result of another's pain.

Through this phase, you remember the words of Bishop T.D. Jakes in his book 'The Lady, Her Lover and Her Lord' and you learn a new kind of respect for grief. It is a feeling that cannot be explained away, rushed, or shrugged off. It demands to be felt and only time can sate it. You watch the love of your life deal with grief and tell yourself that the bishop was right when he said there are parts of a person, a void only their Lord can touch and fill.

As he kissed your forehead this morning, you accept that your touch wouldn't be enough. You are a lover, but a lover would never be able to do what His Lord can do.

So, you promise yourself that you would stop trying to be His Lord. You will turn off the music, put away the massage oils and scented candles, keep shut and ask God to help him go through the pain without losing himself. 

You will ask the lover of his soul to restore his soul and you will wait no matter how long it takes. You will keep praying for him, you will let your big boy cry, you will cry with him and you will wait on the sweet Holy Spirit to lead you both through the night to a brighter morning.

Today you will call on the one who made the heart that is broken because only He can heal it and you will step aside and watch from the side as His Lord takes over the dance.

You will wait till He brings both your hearts to a place of healing because when that happens, a newer, stronger love bond would have been awakened. It would be a rejuvenation, a revival, a renascence, a rebirth.

Now though, you let him hold you as his heart beats in rhythm with yours, the silence saying what no words can, his arms protective over you and knowing there is not much you can do to help, you let yourself feel the pain people seldom talk about. 

For The Boy Who Tried But Couldn't Stay

 

Like a Prince, he rode in, but not in the similitude of royals and princes.

His arrival though sudden, wasn’t greeted with pomp and pageantry.

It was quiet, hushed, muffled, and characterized by every trait that describes the word silent.

Yet it was filled with verve and gusto, marked with certitude and assuredness.

He made it clear that he had one purpose, one well-thought out and calculated mission.

To win your heart, to soften all the parts toughened and hardened by life – this was all he wanted.

Ici pour rester! This would have been the chant were it in the words of a French man.

His raison d’agir was you. It is what a thorough bred Spaniard would call ‘el premio’.

And he tried. Consistently, committedly, unashamedly he pressed and pumped.

Freely he gave of his time, holding nothing back in the contention for you, for your love.

His demeanour though calm, adopted a humourous face and softer exterior.

He stayed up till late, sharing stories, telling jokes your laughter his inspiration.

He pushed and pursued, chasing as he treaded a path he never had dared.

He didn’t sweep you off your feet, neither did he make your head spin or heart stop.

He simply made you feel secure and safe, fear seemed to evaporate upon every encounter with him.

Relinquishing the familiar, he pressed on in a previously uncharted territory.

He seemed scared but never unsure. Made little promises in simple words that connoted calm assurance.

He wasn’t thoroughly smooth even though you knew that wasn’t what he was trying to be.

Like Saul the persecutor, he was willing to take on a new name and identity.

Like Paul the Apostle, he pressed on towards the prize, a higher calling.

And while many had promised to take you to the world, he wanted to bring the world to you.

Through busy days and tight schedules, he pressed. Through tough conversations he plunged deeper.

The calls stayed consistent and the trips across the ocean only seemed to make it solid.

Then abruptly like an aircraft that developed mechanical faults mid-air, it nose-dived and crashed.

Just when you decided to participate fully in the play, and the drama seemed to be taking an intriguing turn, he drew the curtains on it.

Your heart was no longer the prize, his raison d’agir had changed unexpectedly and without warning signs.

It all began with a call and in the most dramatic fashion, ended with a call. It was a bow taken too soon.

Stricken and confused you sought answers. Why? What? When? Where? How? Haba!

Why had breathing become so difficult? What did you do or didn’t do? When did everything change?

Where did it all go? The love, the laughter, and the friendship? How did you not see it coming?

You wore the pain like a pair of heels that were too high and too tight, yet you walked on.

You forged and trudged on, hoping to find healing on the wings of the morning. The sun rose and set, and many moons passed. Slowly but surely, Winter, Autumn and Fall passed, then Summer came, leading you to Springtime.

Your breathing normalized, the questions stopped, the glow returned, and the world became alright again. The flowers had begun to bloom and so did your heart.

Through it all, you learned that the worse isn’t always what you think and that bad decisions can also come from good hearts.

This is the story of the boy who opened up a different world to you and even though he couldn’t stay, he did his best to make you fly without wings.

You Are The Gift, Always Will Be

Isn't it funny what we do with our goals?

We write about them, talk about them and resolve to never give up on them.

Yet, we treat the people in our lives differently.

We seldom write about them, rarely talk about them and are often quick to give up on them.

Isn't it funny the way we act with work?

We pray earnestly for the job we desire, study hard for it and when we get it, give it our best even on the days we feel low.

Yet, we act differently about our relationships.

We do not  intentionally pray for the kind of people we desire, we scarcely bother about studying to be good enough for them and even if they come our way, we almost never give our best on the days we feel low.

It is funny don't you think, our attitude to things?

We check out house after house till we find the neighbourhood and apartment that best suits our style, we seek expert opinion and read all the articles we can find before we purchase a car and when we go to shop for clothes the hours seem to fly past as we search stores and try outfits for the perfect fit.

Yet, we rarely take time to scrutinize folks before we let them in, we easily get carried away by physical attributes instead of the values that drive the people we meet, and when it's time to choose we barely give consideration to men with principles and values, of great sagacity.

Isn't it funny how each one of us is guilty?

We have billions appropriated to constructing bridges, pay millions for a good education and expend energy and time on research and development.

Yet, we are quick to burn bridges with the people in our lives, wouldn't pay the price to know them or earn their trust and wouldn't intentionally invest time, energy and resources to solidify and reinvent our relationships with men.

It is funny when you consider what fun and enjoyment means to us.

We plan for vacations, entertainment, exotic food and the best life has to offer.

Yet in reality, vacations, entertainment, food and life's beauty would be meaningless if there are no people to share these moments with.

Isnt it funny how we spend our lives trying to make a mark in jobs and businesses that also depend on people to survive and would demand a replacement the day we can no longer give our best?

Yet, we fail to invest in creating memories with the people in our lives, the very ones who would stop to care for us and pause to grieve should the unimaginable happen. We seldom give thought to how best to leave imprints in their hearts.

Isn't it funny how we easily think of wealth in terms of things, acquisitions and possessions?

Yet the truly priceless gifts are the men and women in our lives. The ordinary, regular people who bring sunshine and can also cause us pain. 

They are the only ones who can make routine acts like dancing, dining, playing, laughing, reading and even working meaningful. The ones capable of turning ordinary mornings and nights to remarkable and unforgettable memories, giving us moments to look forward to.

Isn't it funny how I sometimes take you, the most excellent of all God's creation for granted when you are the reason for the colours in my rainbow, spring in my steps, stars in my sky, melody to my song and even the hope in my heart?

You are 'the Gift', always have been, always will be.

Can You Go A Little Deeper, Darling?

Scene from the movie Southside With You

I love to talk about sunset and sunrise, flowers,songs and books and to share mutual jokes.

I love to hear about breakfast, lunch and dinner time, the songs on the playlist you created specially for us, and all the funny things you heard, read or saw and thought to share with me. I love to laugh loudly with you about the mundane, sublunary and not so serious things. 

But,

Can we go beyond talking about favourite colours, food, cultures, movies and books to why?

Like why do I like Brown even if it is sombre and thought to evoke feelings of dreariness? Or why do I watch a movie over and over again even if it is over a decade old and wasn't even a Box Office hit? Could it be because the characters' experiences resonate with me? Is it because I laugh when they laugh, cry when they do and have lived the story they tell?

Can you go deeper? Can our conversations transcend the realm of the ephemeral to the sublime?

Can we have difficult conversations like the thoughts you entertain, the obscene fantasies you may have sometimes? Those ones you would be too embarrassed to share with anyone else because it may make them see you differently or even lose  respect for you? Can you tell me of your deepest pain, your eternal regret, your biggest fear and ultimate hope? What are the things that can set you on fire? Do you scamper and run in the face of pain?

Can you undress for me, stripping completely till you are naked, clothed with nothing but your truths, scars and the wounds that are yet to heal?

Would you take off the bejeweled watch, the bespoke shirt designed with none other but you in mind, the calf-skin belt with your initials monogrammed on the buckle, those trousers built both for style and functionality, that shell cordovan shoes that speak louder than words and your perfume that in itself tells a story?

Can you go deeper than sweet words and sugar coated messages? 

Can you tell me about the time you acted out of character in anger and did things that surprised even you? Can you tell of those deeds that may make any mortal consider you a monster?

Would you share the struggles you have fought for decades and still haven't overcome? Would you share the habits you fear you may never drop, not even for love? Would you tell me the story of your pain - raw and undiluted? 

Can I go deeper, just a little bit just so you see if I'd still be here? 

Are there ghosts from the past lurking somewhere underneath your charm and calm demeanour? Would I find coffins filled with decaying corpses and skeletons from years past? 

More importantly, 

Can you go deeper with me? Can you ask me of my worst experiences, the ones I wouldn't even share when I am asked of my worst experience? Can you ask about my biggest pain and struggles, the cruel hands I have been dealt by life? Can I tell you the stories of hurt, betrayal and how it has shaped me? Can I share my deepest secrets, those I dare not even whisper to myself for fear of the walls eaves dropping?

Beyond hickeys, soft strokes and nibbles, would you hit me hard with verity and the gospel of your life?

Would you give me a chance to practice unconditional love? To show that I meant every word when I said I would always care?

I may be asking for too much but would you dig or delve in a little deeper darling, please?

A Promise Kept: What It Means To Love Another

To feel extravagant fondness for another human. To consistently, unashamedly and passionately pursue them, seeking their heart.

To take on another human, promising to fight for them no matter what, to embrace their past, accept their present and forge towards an unknown future with them.

To make sacrifices you never thought possible for them, counting it as nothing and seeking their joy as your only gain.

To have your spirit dance excitedly at the thought and sight of another human, to look in their eyes and feel a fire in your heart and excitement in your soul. To heave with the realization that even if life takes them to the desert with nothing but a shirt and a tent, you'd be with them still.

To have another soul worried and restless until they are sure you are okay. To hear them speak words of life to you, challenging you to rise on your lowest days.

To have them sit with you on hard days, saying and hearing nothing but silence. To hold their hand through the silence yet hearing their heart say "I have got you no matter what".

To hear them sing a song written specially for you, unashamedly bellowing in a coarse voice in a bid to chant your worth. 

To watch them in amazement, thinking how funny their voice sounds but unable to laugh because you feel tears of gratitude welling up at the sincerity and genuineness of their expression.

To reach out for them at past 1am in a bid to snuggle, only to find their side of the bed empty. To call out their name and when greeted with silence, walk out and find them in the study or the living room or the dinning room or the patio or the balcony or even by the poolside deep in thoughts or prayers.

To press for answers but get none, to become agitated because they are visibly worried. To sit by their side, holding their hands and leaning against them in a way that says whenever you are ready to talk, I'll listen and if not, I'd still be here for you.

To hold your breath as you wait for them to change, for their consistency to dwindle, for their commitment to wane. To finally exhale at the realization that they would never stop fighting for you, even when it hurts their pride.

To one day accept the fact that you too cannot help yourself where they are concerned and that come what may, there's no place else for you to go. 

So you give them your heart willingly, knowing also that your body is theirs too because in them you have found a home.

To carry another human in your spirit, wishing them even better than you wish yourself. To share in their happiest and lowest moments, while feeling gratitude for the privilege of their presence.

To look in each others eyes and say "I have got you darling today, tomorrow and for all of time".

To carry their secrets with you, never judging, neither demanding perfection. To know too that you needn't perform or put up an act with them because while you are imperfect, you are enough for them, and them for you.

To meet others who look, act, speak, dress, know and have better than them yet hearing only their voice in your head, their name tatted on your heart, their laughter ingrained in your soul.

To realize long before you walk down the aisle  to them, that you have forsaken all others and will stick with them come what may.

To know that what you share, the commitment, devotion, allegiance and loyalty is not just a promise made but a promise kept. 

This for me, is what it means to love another.

Richmond Dayo Johnson: More Than A Man, You Were An Experience

 

How could you die? How is it possible that I would never hear, see or read from you again? How can one word change everything?

Death!

I can spell the word, I have heard and used it so many times but I never knew its impact. I never knew what a thief it is until it took you.

But did you really die?

I know your heart has stopped beating but have you died? Can I call it death if your memory lives on, alive and vibrant? If I can still hear your laughter, can I say you died? If I still see your face and hear your kind words, can I say you died? I have cried since yesterday and refused to use the words 'RIP' for you but reality stares me in the face, reality says otherwise.

Reality says I would never be able to pick up my phone to call you again because even if the call is answered, it would never be your voice. The voice of the man who epitomized grace, class, panache and excellence. You finessed your way through life and so graciously sprinkled love and kindness in the lives of those who came your way. I have read the tributes and thousands have the same thing to say "RDJ was a quintessential gentleman, true thought leader and sensitive mentor".

From that first encounter in 2013, you became a significant part of my life. Waking me up with calls just to speak words that water and make me bloom. Yours was a heart that loved without thought for class and status. Your love was blind to appearance and background, you saw my soul and that was all that mattered to you. I was insecure but you kept calling forth gold out of me. I doubted myself many times but you were never tired of reaffirming my worth. 

What a man you were! What a teacher! What a mentor!

My RDJ! If I knew I would have reached out more, if I knew I would have said 'thank you' everyday. If I knew I would have left work to see you on the days work brought you to my city. You were never too busy for me, for calls, for messages and even video calls. You promised "my dear Okiemute, I am committed to your growth" and you kept your word.

My RDJ! I could go on and God knows if you could be here for one more day, I'd say thank you to you over and over again.

Death! What a terrible thing, taking you with no prior notification. Stopping us in our tracks and causing us grief with no thoughts for our feelings.

Yet, you live on RDJ! For as long as the memories of time spent with you endure, you live, maybe not in body but in a space that cannot be hacked - our hearts.

Beloved Husband, Father, Grandfather, Coach, Mentor and Friend.

RDJ, the best amongst men of your ilk, you were not just a person, you were an experience and I thank God for the privilege to have known and experienced you.

Alas, I cannot escape it and I have to say Rest in Peace Sire.

Embracing Mercy, For Better or Worse

The first time he asked to sleep with you, you said "God forbid" as you stormed out of the office. You couldn't believe he would ask you to do that.

Did he not know you are married? The impunity and arrogance. "Evil man." 

But you got home and the bills were still there. You had prayed and continued to trust. You wouldn't cheat on your husband, you wouldn't violate the vows you made. You went about your job, avoiding Chief as much as possible at work. Useless man who thinks you are cheap because you desperately need money. 
You called everyone you know asking for financial help. "Nothing is too small", were your words. The excuses reeled in, they too had bills to pay and little to spare.

You waited and watched, prayed and strove, hoping help would come. You watched Richard your husband too, he had become a shadow of himself. Pensive, moody, despondent, temperamental, mad and sad. The slight arguments turned to quarrels and now shouting matches. You would go 3 days without talking to each other and when night came, he would stay in the living room. You got angry, he was being selfish you thought to yourself. 

"Didn't he know you understood it wasn't his fault? Didn't he see you were trying to be supportive in spite of the challenge?"

You cried and cursed and repented, "God please help me", was your constant cry. 

Days turned to weeks and then months until that day. 

You had gone to the hospital to see Sylvia, your 16 months old daughter who needed a Portoenterostomy for her liver. That day, Dr Raymond shared the news that changed everything as you knew it. Your baby may not live for longer if the procedure wasn't done soon, and in fact a transplant may be needed now. You cried as you asked for more time to put the funds together. But it wasn't even up to Dr Raymond, time was running out and a procedure had to be performed.

That day as you drove home, you called Mr Anizor who had made an offer on your car. You refused to sell to him initially because you felt he was being wicked. How could he offer 800,000 naira for a car with a market value of over two million naira? You called him that day because no one else even made an offer. 
"I'll accept what you have", you told him as you swallowed your pride. 
He purchased your car making the money you had a total of about six million naira. But you still needed ten million naira. The angel you had been praying for was yet to show up. Your faith was failing and for the first time you considered Chief's offer. 

What price would be too much to save the life of your child? Your marriage as it was, seemed to be nearing its end, you had promised for better or worse but the worse was too much to deal with. 

You remember the day you walked into Chief's office, you didn't bother with greetings but spoke six words.

"I'm headed for your Guest house." 
He looked up from his computer, obviously stunned at first and then he smiled. He made a call to the Guest house to say he was expecting a guest and you walked out. You wore the blue Zara wrap dress that accentuated your curves and showed some cleavage.

The last time you wore it was 22 months ago when you showed up at Richard's office with nothing underneath, just your dress and River Island ankle high heeled peep toe sandals. He looked perplexed at first but smiled when you shut the door and unwrapped the dress, standing in nothing but your heels. Those were the good days, but they seemed like a distant past now.

You arrived Chief's guest house and took in the room as you stepped in. The man sure knew what class and opulence should look like, it was a beautiful suite reminiscent of the hotel where you spent your honeymoon in Santorini. He arrived about 30 minutes after and as he spoke about how he had been drawn to you from the first day he saw you, you imagined how many appointments he had cancelled for his romp with you.

You have vague memory of the time with him because you were thinking of Richard and Sylvia and the future of your family. 
Hours later, you sat in Dr Raymond's office discussing plans for Sylvia's referral to India for the surgical procedure. Chief had given you fifteen million naira even though you asked for ten million naira.

You didn't tell Richard what you did but the minute you told him he needed to sign the form giving his consent for the referral, you knew he would know. He would know that you had violated your vows and traded your body and dignity to save your daughter. As you both drove home, he pulled over, pulled you to himself and whispered in your ears "I'm sorry you had to do what you did but I promise to love you like you loved our daughter and gave your all for her."

Tears trickled down as he tilted your face to look at his, you looked away, ashamed.

"I would never judge or condemn you my love. Your secret is safe with me and beyond love, I adore you now." 
You both cried and it seemed surreal as you had prepared for the worse, you thought your marriage would end.

One month after you returned to Nigeria with Sylvia, you quit your job. You felt dirty and couldn't look at your body in the mirror for a long time but Richard's love stayed, patient and kind, helping and encouraging you to move on. It wasn't a mistake, it was a deliberate choice, he too accepted it and even asked your forgiveness for his inability to raise the money leading you to do what you did. Still, it wasn't easy and on the days you were not cold to him, you were overly harsh because you expected him to get angry, mock you and leave. Instead he would send you messages, "I'm still here and I'll be here waiting till you forgive us."

He had to nurse not just Sylvia to health but you too.

It is over a year now, Sylvia is fine, you have healed and managed to lock the incident in a safe somewhere in your head. But more than ever the words of Job in Job 14:7-9 make more sense to you, 

"There is hope for a tree that has been cut down; it can come back to life and sprout. Even though its roots grow old, and its stump dies in the ground, with water it will sprout like a young plant."

You were like a tree cut down by life's challenges but Richard watered you with love, he chased after you fiercely, and you didn't just grow, you blossomed like a rose in springtime.

Today you hold people to a standard of grace, never judging, patiently watching and remembering that anyone can be a victim given the right circumstance. After all, you are a fruit of the seeds sown by the one person who could have kicked you when you fell.

You have learned that bad choices never really meant a person was bad, they only react based on their experience and exposure. People in themselves are imperfect and need only be loved even when they make mistakes, so now you have become a farmer, sowing seeds of mercy, kindness and love.

Today you have embraced mercy and love for better or for worse because like the great apostle Paul wrote "three things will last forever—faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love." - 1 Corinthians 13:13 (NLT)

You, The Most Riveting Love Story

One word, with three letters spelling YOU,

Y and O and U, together culminating in YOU.

Like, why does the spinning in my head stop at the thought of YOU?

Oh the peace as the gbam-gbam-dum-dum stills because of YOU.

YOU, the lips that speak life to water and make me bloom.

YOU, the eyes that light up my path, watching me with love like a Groom.

YOU, the hands that hold me, guiding me through darkness.

YOU, the ears that listen while mortals slumber through night's stillness.

One word, with the letters Y and O and U to say the word YOU;

Father, Lover, Burden bearer, Teacher, Enigma, and Muse, YOU.
The mastermind constantly working wonders only you can do.

My safe place, praising YOU is my favourite thing to do.

Oghene ro fego - the God who is deserving of my worship

Agbani lagbatan - the one who delivers completely

Gaga n'ogwu - the God that walks on thorns

Yod Hay Waw Hay (YHWH) - the self existent one

YOU the most beautiful notes penned for music or poetry;

YOU, the most phenomenal and riveting love story.

YOU, the most remarkable event that happened to me;

YOU, a constant reminder that goodness, grace and mercy never left me.

He Fixes Broken Things - and People

Broken things are not allowed in the palace - it's a thing. 

If you think I'm joking, go back to the record of Kings.

From Saul that man who stood head and shoulder above all

He was tall and strong, the most handsome of them all

To David whose reign was characterized by wars and alotta skirmish

and Absalom in whom there was not even a single blemish

Broken things are not allowed in the palace, don't you know?

It's a space for diamonds, gold and every precious stone you know

Broken things and people have no room even in the servants' quarter

Cos the palace has no space for a life filled with clutter

It's a place for Kings and nobles and men courageous and whole

Who dine and wine from goblets that can buy even your soul

Broken things are not allowed in the palace you see

That means in it there's no space for people like me

Broken, battered, shattered with a proclivity for mistakes

A life mutilated and marred by all the wrong choices I make

Yet the palace was the one place where I desperately needed a space

I wanted to be in, even before I had an encounter with amazing grace

I fussed and pressed as I thought of a way through

Read the books, seeking counsel that might birth a breakthrough

I pined, and yearned, hungered and hankered till I was worn

Yet eager to find a space even if it meant being scorched by the sun

But the truth hit hard forcing me flat on my face

Broken things and people will never in a palace find space

Then I met this King, the one called the God of Jeshurun and Zion

Ephrathah! He said and my cup filled up to inundation

Now I have become Hephzibah and my land Beulah

A personification of grace and mercy with a dose of charisma

He accepts and fixes broken things till they are free to be

But you may never understand if you had never met me

Broken things can be allowed in the palace, this truth I have learnt

Cos of the God who fixes things and people no matter how broken or bent.

And if you doubt cos you think you are too broken to be fixed

Then ask about the girl I was before He called out "Talitha Cumi"

He breathed and suddenly life has a new meaning for me

And I can scream Rehoboth! because in the palace, he's made room for me.

A Love Stronger Than You or I

A love stronger than you or I,
A love that would never say bye.
Speaking the truth undiluted, bitter but peppered with warmth,
Reminding us that in our similarities and differences lie our worth.
Remembering to forget the wrongs, constantly forgiving imperfections,
Holding instead to the good, the simple understated yet honest intentions.
Never forgetting the richness of the laughter that warms our soul,
Even on the days when all we can manage is a sigh or a growl.

A love seemingly fragile yet consistent enough to make a mockery of lust,
Bigger, braver, higher, wider and stronger than the two of us.
Staying even when pushed to the brink by hurtful words and wrongs,
Staying because the many more rights are what make us so strong.
A love that understands that there are so many things we are not, like perfect,
Yet sees the realness, strength, resilience and genuineness we reflect.
Through life's many seasons of cool, warmth and hot,
Like gold it got purer as it was forged in life's heated pot.

A love that says Yes! rescuing and choosing us over and again,
Reminding us that the gift of each other is our greatest gain.
Through years of pain, turmoil, tears and hard days,
Holding and keeping us safe as we find our way back to sunny days.
An affair that defies logic making a mess of arrogance and pride,
That even when we thought we would die, we always stayed on for one last ride.
Now I look back and wonder where all the time went,
As I ponder on the love that held my heart steady from the day we met.

A love that got us two on a life long dance of tango,
And now we know that try as we might there's no letting go.
Giving me wings to soar, nudging me to reach for, do and be more,
Standing tall through the toasts we made as we became so much more.
As the colours fade and I watch heaven come to me,
I admit that my biggest gain is to have been loved for me.
That a soul reset its priorities the day it set sights on mine,
Relinquishing the familiar to make his heart and life accommodate mine.

And if I could rewind the clock to turn back time's hand,
I would still give all for this love God gave me through your hand.
Through water and fire I'd walk and my flag I'd hoist,
Till I feel that tingle in my heart caused only by the sound of your voice.
I would watch, pray and wait forever and a day more,
Cos for your love, there's nothing I wouldn't do or endure.
This love that in its minutest form is stronger than you or I,
And would never say bye, no matter how hard we try.

How Can I Find My Way To You And You To Me?

Memories. That's all we have now.

Memories of days in the Sun, days of laughter and play.

Days that before our eyes seem to have suddenly slipped away.

Days when we could just up and leave, without a care.

Days when making plans and commitments didn't seem like a dare.

Days when we could just touch and stretch out hands for a shake.

When rubbing skin against a stranger wasn't counted a grave mistake.

Days when we shared blankets instead of peeking in response to "hellos".

When we could just fly and like Angels happily rocked our halos.

Days taken for granted, moments we thought would always last.

Days now gone by, the worst we feared is here at last.

The worst has come but what next we must ask?

How do we make the most of the daunting and arduous task?

These days in the storm, and in the conundrums of hell's fire.

How can they prove to us the infallible truth that the Devil is a liar?

How can we find strength to turn houses once again to homes, love cubicles?

Filled with warmth and laughter and the calm assurance that we are each other's miracles.

How can actions of love transcend the realm of primal instincts?

And morph into intercourse that goes deeper than collision between sheets

How can this serve as a reminder of our common denominator, our humanity,

And instead of ending us, help me find my way back to you and you to me?

The Cost of A Touch: Lessons From The Coronavirus Pandemic

"May the angels protect you
Trouble neglect you
And heaven accept you when it's time to go home
May you always have plenty
The glass never empty
Know in your belly
You're never alone

May your tears come from laughing
You find friends worth having
With every year passing
They mean more than gold
May you win and stay humble
Smile more than grumble
And know when you stumble
You're never alone

Never alone
Never alone
I'll be in every beat of your heart
When you face the unknown
Wherever you fly
This isn't goodbye
My love will follow you, stay with you
Baby, you're never alone."

These are lines from Lady Antebellum's song 'Never Alone', and they make so much sense to me at a time like this. A time when humankind is puzzled and unsure where to turn for answers, a time when tears have flown so much that people do not know if they'd ever really laugh again, a time when a hug would really mean alot but we can't even hold hands. 

Who knew? 

Who would have thought that 'a touch', the gesture that says "I am here for you, you are never alone", would become the thing to avoid? Who would have thought that the things that take our time, work and the fast life would someday mean nothing and we'd desire only each other, to just breathe with each other? Who knew that in the face of pain and uncertainty we would have to fall back to love, stuck with family - literally?

I read statistics of people that are dying from the virus that has plagued the world and I imagine how their loved ones feel. Worse still is that these ones may never be able to grieve because they'd be too worried with thoughts of their own safety especially if they had physical contact with the deceased. Who knew how costly a touch could be?

"Who knew that money would someday fail?" This is what I asked myself as my neighbour who I'd asked to help me get something from the market came back to say it wasn't available anymore. She too couldn't get what she wanted.

Just days ago, my brother came to my house with bags filled with food items, so many. "In a few days people would not be able to buy food, so I thought to get these for you" were his words as I asked why he bought SO MUCH of everything. Today his words have come to pass and I'm mighty glad for the love of a brother who foresaw the future and looked out for 'US' because the 14-day lockdown has resulted in scarcity of food.

Today we have so much of the one thing we couldn't afford because of our fast life - time, and as I respond to the one question that has continually been asked by the people in my life "are you safe?", I accept that all we have is each other. Today as I sit in my home I wonder if it is all worth it. Stress, pride, hate, selfishness, (un)justified anger, envy, strife and many other unhealthy habits, are they worth it?

I am currently listening to Kristian Stanfill's 'In Christ Alone' and I rest, assured that I and the ones I love are safe in Christ alone. He is my peace, light, strength, song, corner stone, mind regulator, heart fixer, comforter and safe place, firm through the storm.

Today, I choose faith not fear because I am sure that when the storm passes, I'll be stronger, will value my loved ones even more and when it's all over, I'll rise with a song. You will too.

The Things You Tell Yourself To Feel Okay

A sharp pain sliced through your back as you made to stand up. It is one of the many issues that you have had to deal with since you became pregnant seven months ago - nausea, occasional abdominal pain, excessive appetite for sugary food and that sudden urge to cry.

You suspect though that the urge to cry stems from the challenges you have had to put with where Nnamdi is concerned.

Like this morning when you asked him to take you to the hospital for the antenatal session, even though he always declined. You asked because you knew he had the week off work and even added that the Doctor said him joining the session, would help with bonding.

He cut you off before you landed, reminding you that he didn't ask for 'this'.

You felt the sudden urge to cry as you asked "This? You refer to our baby as this?"

He responded sharply that he was in no mood for your drama and at the mention of the word 'drama', you recall what Chizaram your friend told you.

"You have to be patient and not let him see you as dramatic. Endure till you birth your baby and that way he'd have enough peace of mind to  make the move to see your people. Peace of mind is all a man wants."

You had wanted to ask her if your peace didn't matter as well but kept quiet especially because she'd remind you how you schemed to 'trap' Nnamdi with the pregnancy.

So today you kept quiet because you needed him to see you as his 'peace of mind', the woman he needs.

You apologized quickly and asked if he'd need you to do anything later.
He retorted with an emphatic "NO", so loud that you had to hold the phone away from your ear.

You made to apologize even though you were not sure why but he ended the call before you finished.

The urge to cry became so strong and like many times in the past 7 months, you couldn't hold back.

The salty taste of the tears reminded you of that day 7 months ago when you first told him about the pregnancy.

You had spent the night at his place and as you cleared the table after the salty meal of Yam and fried eggs, the uncontrollable nausea that began 2 weeks earlier and made you run a pregnancy test, overwhelmed you. You ran to the kitchen to vomit.

Nnamdi ran after you, rubbing his hand up and down your back and asking what the problem was.

"You should see a Doctor, run some tests." He said.

"Maybe it's the salt from the food." He had also complained about the salt earlier.

You should still see a Doctor." He said.

Without thinking, you blurted out the words "I am pregnant." There was need lying anymore as the truth couldn't be hidden for long. But he went on as though he hadn't heard you, "could be from the night we sat out to watch the city from the hills. Remember you wore Shorts and complained of mosquito bites?"

"Nnamdi I am pregnant" you said, again.

He paused for a while as if to digest the information and asked "How?"

"How? We had sex."

"How were you so careless? How did you let this happen without at least discussing with me?" He asked again.

"I let it happen? Were you expecting a new pair of shoes from unprotected sex?" You screamed.

"Really? What about the pills?" He had raised his voice now.

You kept shut because you had stopped taking the morning after pills when you told Chizaram about your plan to get pregnant but as you watched Nnamdi who suddenly looked at you as though you had grown horns, you knew you had made a mistake.

Chizaram's words however kept playing in your head, "Nnamdi, is an Opara, the first son. He may get angry at first but he would eventually accept the pregnancy. Besides, his mother would never let him abort her first grand child. So take the risk to keep your man."

It had hurt to know you had to 'keep' a man with pregnancy and it hurt even more to know that if it were up to him, he would have you terminate the pregnancy. But you tell yourself that sometimes, situations forced people to make the right decisions and that Nnamdi would eventually see the need to take full responsibility. Afterall, he is an 'Opara'.

Now, you stand up amidst the sharp pain slicing through your back - the antenatal session had ended, and head for the hospital reception where your cousin Edesiri and her sister in-law sat waiting for you. Edesiri had taken it upon herself to take you to the hospital whenever you couldn't drive and she voiced once that "maybe your baby would bring me luck and I'll have my own child too". 

She had been married 9 years without a child. The day she made the offer, you hugged her tightly even though you knew it was one of the things she told herself to feel okay.

They stand up as you approach and as you watch her laugh with Tosan her sister in-law, you feel a tinge of envy. Envy for the kind of bond you may never have with Nnamdi's family, afterall, his mother had coyly stated that she'd have loved it if her first son had married an Igbo girl "but I guess everything happens for a reason, and Nnamdi has not mentioned married yet" she said smiling ruefully.

Your head ached all through that day as you pondered on her words but, you told yourself that after you birth her first grandchild, she'd be forced to accept you.

You motion for Edesiri to make a stop so you could buy Dates, they helped with the strong Sugar craving that came with your pregnancy.

As you get back in the car, she announced with glee "We have decided to adopt children, a set of twins."

She reeled out details of her new decision with Francis her husband and added "Maybe loving children that do not have a family would bring us luck too."

She shrugged as she held tightly to the steering and you tell yourself, it is also one of the things she told herself to feel okay.

Yet, you feel that tinge of envy again. Envy for the kind of love she has with Francis, one you'd never have with Nnamdi.

You tell yourself though that unlike you, she'd never know what it is to carry a baby in her womb, one that is her flesh and blood.

You glance at Tosan, she too seemed to be at peace with the decision.

Not sure what to say in response, you pick a Date and bite into it. The very sugary fruit suddenly lost its taste in your mouth.

You feel your baby kicking and you tell yourself that Edesiri would also never know this feeling, this feeling of being kicked in the womb by one's own baby.

You bite into the Date again and blink back the tears welling up in your eyes.

Amidst the tears, you say "I am so overwhelmed at the thought of being a mother in a couple of weeks." You know it is an insensitive thing to say but you do not want to have to explain why you are crying. 

Because deep in your heart, you wish you could turn back the hands of time. Deep in your heart, you know saying you are excited about becoming a mother is one of the many things you have told yourself since you became pregnant, just to feel okay.

But in reality, you are not.