These four words—loss, grief, love, and life—are deeply intertwined for me. Whenever I reflect on one, the others inevitably come to mind. They are interconnected, each shaping and defining the other in profound ways. Loss is the end of something whether relationship, dream or a phase of life. For me in recent times, has often
Pink When I was a child, I was always in tune with my favorite hue, It made me feel like I was girlie enough, and that meant attractive. Looking at my rulers, my journals, and my dresses, I unearthed the long-lost princess within me, At least it made me feel like royalty— A world wrapped
I finally deleted your pictures, I finally removed the last of us. I hate how I glow in each frame that remains, Hate the wine glass, my lip stain, Hate to see my favorite dresses I’ll never wear again, Hate the pictures of food aesthetics, the art on my plate. Your face can’t be in
Shame is relative with matters of the heart, but is guilt truly inevitable? Is it that easy to break a person’s will or heart? Who is the mender of both? Does the heart know when the palpitations will come? You’re strong, they say. I was once broken; It was temporary. I became emotionally indifferent
Remember, I ended with how I love being the unrepaired car? It has been two years, and I am still the unrepaired car— The ungrateful car that keeps its owner sad and worried. But regardless of my attitude, He still wants to be seen with me. Unworthy as I am, I would rather have my
I am like the unrepaired car, You know the one that manages to get around town? It looks clean on the outside, but the inside is in bad shape. You can’t truly understand what it’s like until you’re inside it. I am like the unrepaired car. Every time I encounter a pothole, I am afraid—
After two decades of living life smoothly, I realized that Plan B was a thing. God had a way of answering my prayers just in time, preventing me from considering other options. My 20th birthday began with a Plan B: NYSC or a Master’s degree? Naturally, I tried both at the same time, unconsciously making
I went into the bookstore to grab a few books, at the counter during my checkout I saw a card that caught my eye. It had a picture of a black swan. It had nothing inside. I knew I had to get it immediately. Inside the card was like a blank cheque and all I
I used to believe that being a ride or die friend meant taking on all of someone else’s problems and burdens as your own. I prided myself on being that kind of friend, always ready to act and help. But I learned the hard way that sometimes being too involved can make you seem irrational.
Days First were the days that were part of me; There were days when I didn’t feel alone. There were days when all I could feel was the warmth of the Holy Spirit. There were days when all I wanted to do was pray. There were days when worship was my language. There were days
