Destroying what saves us

Truly it breaks my heart 

We keep advancing

But at the cost of what

Somethings are better off not growing 

Yes it has advantages 

But the disadvantages outweigh it

It's not worth it

There is always a lesson to learn

Nothing is useless 

Life is the greatest teacher

It gives us scars

But those with the most scars

Have the kindest

And strongest hearts

They shine bright

Spreading positivity and good will

A Room That Breathes

You are the light of my world 

You gave a life meaning 

Filling and empty room 

Reviving a dead soul 

Sacrificing for your beloved 

Taking their pain 

Replacing it with joy 

You are my breath of life

My husband is a good man but he b€ats me whenever he's angry. It's not his fault, he just has a hot temper.

My husband is a good man, he provides for me and the kids but he doesn't allow my family members visit us. 

My husband is a good man but he has ch€ated on me many times. It's not his fault, the ladies are tempting him all the time. 

My husband is a good man but he didn't allow me work or start a business, he said i should finish birthing all my kids. 

My husband is a good man but he in$ults me sometimes before family members, good man must have another definition. Nigerian women won't stop using “good” to deceive themselve

The Roads I Never Took

The path to an unknown land 

Fear resided upon it 

Waiting for an unlucky soul 

I was not about to be that soul 

But the light at the end was transcendent

Calling upon me in my sleep 

Promising a place of safety 

Fear was warier than ever 

Watching my every move 

Until it was too late

Shadows Carrying My Voice

My sanctuary 

The place of the unknown

It's scary at a glance

Crippling fear around you

But within

There it lies

A beauty only to be seen by few

Those who are willing to look beyond

They shall see the beauty hidden 

It could take your breath away 

Filled with voices of joy

It became our safe haven

A Sky Without Anywhere To Fall

Have you seen it before

A place filled with neverending silence

You stay there forever 

Heaven on earth

Looking at it from the ground up

Reaching for it 

But never able to grab hold

Seen by all

Owned by none

It became my friend

It's sight out me to ease

Bringing me warmth

Always holding me up

Many believers are dealing with darkness inside their hearts because their hearts are full of bitterness and anger. Some of these believers are angry with God, their spouses, children, parents, etc. I understand that the world is a wicked place, and it can be easy for bitterness to creep into your heart. However, instead of allowing bitterness to envelop you, you must open up your heart to the light of God. The word of God is light; let this light become an armor that protects you from darkness.

Today's memory verse admonishes us to cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light. Light is an armor, and just as a soldier needs armor to survive the attacks of an enemy, light protects you from any arrow of bitterness that the enemy might shoot against you. To put on the armor of light, you must cast off the works of darkness. You cannot overcome the prince of darkness when you have the works of darkness in you. Sin is the greatest work of darkness. If you are still living in sin, you must repent, put on the armor of light, and live righteously.

As I have progressed in life, I have experienced betrayals from different people. I have been hurt by people who are far from me and people who are very dear to me. I have been hurt by unbelievers and even by some ministers of God. However, despite all these, I haven't lost my joy. I haven't stopped being kind, even to those who betrayed me. Even though they may have hurt me, my heart is protected by the armor of light, which will not allow darkness to creep into my heart.

Beloved, don't keep malice, and don't focus on people who have hurt you. Ephesians 6:12 says: "For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places." The real enemy is the devil, who wants to plant a seed of bitterness in your heart so you can be filled with darkness. Don't let him succeed; rather, put on the armor of light by subjecting all your thoughts to the authority of Christ, casting off every sinful habit and meditating on God's word at all times. As you do this, I pray that your heart will be filled with joy, and you will continually experience the peace of God that passes all understanding.

It was all laid before me 

That's when it became clear 

I had to step back

Before I could really see it 

I was lucky not to be late

Now I could enjoy this sight 

My heart was put to rest

My stormy wave

Became still

I had one goal

To climb the mountain

The thought alone

Made it seem impossible 

And it's understandable 

To conquer the unconquered 

Trying to make the impossible possible 

No guides 

Just me alone

So I discarded my fear

Smiled

And took the first step

You enjoyed playing with me

Showing me my desires 

Making me happy

Fixing my broken heart

Only to later shatter it

It was an illusion 

You laughed to loud

I couldn't hear my heartbeat

And everything turned gray 

There was an echo

It was intriguing

It called to me

As I got closer it calmed me

Before I knew it 

I was mesmerized

At the center of it all was a dame

We all have those moments 

Periods in time we want to live in

Places of our deepest peace

Living in that memory

A desire that became reality 

It was unbelievable 

A dream come true

It became twisted 

My heaven became hell 

I began to seek escape

From my deepest peace

Love is a wonder

Is it an emotion

Or an action

I lost it though

I had to find it again

I saw it in the small things

Your laugh, smile, walk

What others wouldn't notice

Meant everything to me

This was love

I could hear the air

It was all clear

All of a sudden it made sense

All the noise disappeared 

And only clarity remained

I guess that's the winning formula 

Finding clarity

Even within chaos 

The game changer

The hero of the story

On a journey 

Rising to defeat the demon lord

We put our hopes in you

And you give us strength 

You make us believe we can be more

We don't have to be this way

We can reach for the stars and beyond

Like a great sunami

Washing everything away

Destroying the pillers of society 

But also creating opportunities 

There are chances in chaos

Its up to those willing 

To take advantage of it

Or be last behind

The Phone That Never Rang

It sat there

Quiet as stone

Hours passed like strangers

On a nameless street

I waited for its voice

For its small vibration

To break the silence

But it stayed still

Mocking me with absence

Teaching me how to listen

To nothing at all

How I knew it's weakness 

Was a mystery 

But I ran

Then it began to rain

The showers awoke something 

It all started to make sense

Something was turned on

A light bulb in my head

The back of the house

It's a special place

So much happens here

The first steps of a child

The first barbeque 

But it's not perfect

Bad things have also happened here

A heart broken

A connection faded away

And it reminds me of it all

Holy is she

Indepth in the righteousness that calms

Like the wave of the sea

Thrusting her penny for alms

Her face is carved

With a mixed ingredients that jinn 

In a couple of minutes and half

She is the onion that must be seen.

Our path cross

In the valley of Hebron 

Just like the plank of the cross

As He put on our sins up on

Time is running

This is what my spirit longs for

Picking up my feeling 

For whom my love is for

So fast?

I am there

In an ancient room in the east

Covered with hair

She is not bitter

Like a bottle of ale

The virginity of her

Must be hailed.

When Smiles Learn to Stay

Like a ray of light

It's warmth was filled with love

Who would have thought it had this much power

I was on the edge

Ready to let it all go

Just when I thought it was all over 

I saw it 

A ray of hope 

It shone so brightly 

It was hard to ignore

It showed me the way out of the darkness 

Now I am reborn in light

Happy Sunday 💕

The unlucky one

That's what I felt

In that moment

What did it have to be

Chosen among everyone 

What made me stand out

I tried so hard

But couldn't fit in

Now I'll be paying the consequences 

The responsibility 

Now rests in my shoulders 

I wish to leave you behind

But that's impossible

You are always with me

Either in the way I speak

Or the way I act

Your presence is felt

Even though you are the past

You exist in the present

Conflict

My way to salvation 

But

You showed me different 

War was not the end

Bloodshed wasn't necessary 

We could just

Sit

And talk

Everything would be alright 

Our attitude toward life determines life's attitude towards us

#Tammy 

CHAPTER 13: A MAN WHO SURVIVED HIMSELF

Years passed like a slow river, indifferent to grief, indifferent to memory. I carried her absence with me, a quiet ache that never fully healed, a reminder of the debts life had demanded and the cruelty the world had perfected.

The village changed in small ways—some traditions faded, some elders passed—but the system endured. And within it, I endured too. I survived not because I was stronger, but because survival became a careful negotiation: a trade of spirit for existence, courage for caution, dreams for silence.

I often walked past the mango tree where we had learned together, tracing the soil with my fingers, remembering the fire in her eyes, the questions she had asked, the defiance she had shown. In my heart, she remained alive—alive in memory, alive in every lesson she had inspired, alive in the small victories of curiosity I secretly nurtured in others.

Maturity, I discovered, is not always a gift. Sometimes it is the acceptance of loss, the reconciliation with cruelty, and the wisdom to live within the bounds of a broken system while refusing to let it extinguish all hope.

I had become a man who survived himself, who carried both love and heartbreak in equal measure, who understood the cost of courage, and who knew the price of knowledge in a world unwilling to honor it.

And yet, even in survival, there was a lingering ache—a recognition that some debts, some wrongs, some loves, cannot be repaid or reclaimed. The lessons she had taught me were etched in my soul, a permanent testimony that even when the world tries to erase a life, memory preserves it, stubborn and unyielding.

CHAPTER 14: THE SUN ROSE ANYWAY

He watched the sun rise, not with hope, but with a cynical understanding that the new day brought only a fresh set of transactions: the price of freedom demanded by the old order, the silent agreement to bury one's own education, and the lingering ache of a heartbreak that proved only one thing that some debts are only fully settled when they are paid in blood.

I stood beneath the horizon, watching the light spill across the village I had once known, and I felt the weight of all that had been lost. The girl I had taught, loved, and tried to protect was gone, yet her absence was alive in every shadow, every lesson I could never teach again, every act of courage I would try to pass on to others.

Greed still ruled quietly in the shadows. Tradition still whispered obedience. Patriarchy still measured worth in compliance rather than heart. And yet, within the unbroken fragments of memory, there was a stubborn testament to resistance.

The world, relentless and unchanging, demanded its toll. Death, heartbreak, the erasure of knowledge—all had been paid in full. And in paying it, we survived, but not unscarred.

I walked through the streets, passing children who laughed, elders who nodded, and men who counted assets in silence. And I knew that life would continue, that hope would rise again in some corners, and that even in a world built to suppress it, the spark of knowledge and courage could not be completely snuffed out.

The sun rose anyway.

And so, the story ended as all stories of the living must: in survival tempered by sorrow, in love tempered by loss, in lessons written in the ashes of those who came before.

Some debts are only paid in blood. Some lessons only endure through memory. And some hearts, even broken, teach the living how to endure.

THE END.

Modernism and Its Blues Helter-skelter, man in this age runs, Seeking answers to his fundamental Problem — in all the wrong places. What a mess he has made! Caught in the morass of a diabolic worldview, He swims against the swelling tides Of a world out of sync with itself — A world darkened by the distortions Of scientific naturalism — the modernist’s Religious credo; a creed that denies The foundations of the world and reality In God’s creative act, Reducing everything to an interacting system Of mindless entities — from particles to strings, To fields and countless other postulates. Beneath this debris of distortion, man is buried, With a formidable priesthood Dedicated to the propagation of its creedal tenets — This counterfeit religion of the modern age, Whose raised altars and high places are dedicated To burnt offerings before the idols of rationalism. In cathedrals around the world, her clergy Offer the chalice containing the nectar of enlightenment To a willing humanity, Promising that it will usher in An age of human conquest — When nature will yield her secrets, Bow in obedience and resignation, And crown man as lord and master. But the true content of that communion cup Is poison — the skepticism that gnaws At the very foundations of truth. Indeed, this modern blues has spread its reach Through every web and window Of man’s towering edifice, Filling every aperture with Its deafening, monotonous tune. Modern man now worships In the temple of false gods, Singing hymns of praise
To a vicious and deceiving demigod — Called Scientism.
 

Dust on the Shelf

Forgotten corners

layers of time stacked quietly

No one reaches here anymore

no hands, no eyes

Only stillness settling in

The weight is small

But it keeps growing

A reminder that even silence

Collects something

'Good morning, Mr Tom.' Mrs Newton greeted.
'Oh! Morning! Mrs Newton.' Mr Tom replied.

Mr Tom could see the three students being dragged to his office, and he then  signalled subtlely to John to leave his office. However, John, who had developed a great hatred and had been trying to make Kate a victim of his machiavellian acts, upon seeing her with the two other students, he knew she was in trouble, and wanted to make use of the opportunity. John walked up to Mr Tom and told whispered to him that Kate was the girl he was telling him about. 
Upon noticing Kate, Mr Tom asked, 'Why have you come here, Mrs Newton? And, also, why are these students here?'
Mrs Newton said, 'You would not imagine what these students have done this morning. In fact, a great punishment must be ascertain to such crime!'
'What did they do?' Mr Tom asked.
'I was in the classroom this morning lecturing other students who were attended. I just saw these three students coming in with bandages on their foreheads. I asked them what could have happened, and they told me they had an accident on their way to school. But when I asked them to have their seats, I noticed that Stone's adhesive bandage is not well dressed. I called him and tried to help him out, but to my notice, these students acted all these scripts up.' Mrs Newton said. 
She then showed Mr Tom the wools and the bandages they used. John was very happy that Kate had already been dipped into his net. Mr Tom stood in bewilderment. He didn’t know what to say. He was in a dilemma. He was thinking about John's offer and also thinking that Kate's crime was not tangible for her to be expelled. Again, he knew that if she were to be expelled, other students would be involved.
'Mr Tom!' Mrs Newton yelled.
'Yessssss! Sorry, my bad! What prompted you guys to do such an act.' He faced the three students.
'Honestly, we were late. So we were thinking of what to make our way in. So, that's why we....' Stone replied.
'He was the one that gave the idea, sir.' Kate pointed to Stone.
'Will you guys just keep shut? We are in sh*t, yet you guys are still arguing.' Agnes yelled. 
'You know what, I don't want to hear any complaints for now. You will have to clean up all the toilets, both junior and senior, and report back to me when you are done. Okay?' Mr Tom said.
'Yes, sir!' They chorused. 
'Ermm, wait! You will have to call your parents for me. They have to be here tomorrow. Okay?'
'Noted, sir.' They chorused again.
'You can have your leave and start your work.' Mr Tom ordered.

They all left, leaving the principal and John alone in the office. A whole forces of anger were raging in John's mind. It was as if he should punch Mr Tom for the decision he made. Mr Tom knew what he might be thinking, he then said, 'I know what you are thinking. There is a reason why I made such a choice.'
'You would just have expelled her at that moment. Remember the offer,' John yelled.
'Yeah, I know. I can't just expell her without involving other students.'
'Expell them all if you want to. It's not of my concern!' John yelled. 
'John, calm down. For me to make any decision unethically, it has to be clandestinely. Your image is at edge; my career is also at edge; same as your father's. You have to exercise a lot of patience till I get to know what to do. You hear?' Mr Tom said.

'Oh! I understand.'
'We'll have to find another way to figure this out.' Mr Tom said.
'That's true, though.' John said.
'Come back tomorrow. I would have figured it out.'

Stone, John, and Clark spent their whole school time cleaning up the school toilet. After they were done, they were so tired that they could not even raise their tongues and lips to speak and have an argument between themselves. They all went to their various houses, tired and wrecked.

I thought it was open

I left a long time ago

What was I expecting 

A welcome party?

Nothing

Stays the same forever 

Things change 

People change 

God, things are happening oh! A man called Mr Afriyie bu,rnt his wife and 5 children and his 7 months grandchild just because the wife complained his manh00d wasn't functioning any longer and she started ch€ating.. He bu,rn them with petrol.. May their souls rest well.. God forgive him!!

The river that refuses to flow

It was quick

It couldn't be stopped

The unstoppable force

Or so I thought

It only took one sentence 

It was stopped in it's tracks

They destroyed something beautiful 

Leaving nothing but dirt

CHAPTER 5: WHEN LOVE BECAME EVIDENCE

The village had eyes everywhere.

What had once been secret—the lessons, the whispered words, the stolen smiles—was now visible to those who had always watched. A neighbor saw her tracing letters in the dust and reported it. A boy laughed at a lesson we thought hidden, and the story spread faster than fire across dry grass.

It was no longer just learning. It had become defiance. And where there is defiance, there is punishment.

The elders called us to the center of the village, under the large baobab tree that had witnessed generations of obedience. Their faces were calm, but their eyes were sharp, like knives hidden in folds of cloth.

“You teach her what she must not know,” the head elder said, voice measured but heavy. “And in doing so, you encourage her to question the order that protects her.”

I tried to explain, tried to tell them it was only letters, only words, only knowledge. But words are useless when tradition and fear are stronger.

“And you,” he continued, turning to her, “you have forgotten your place. A girl is not meant to lead, to speak, or to know. You have chosen rebellion over obedience. You have chosen shame over honor.”

I looked at her, expecting tears. But she stood taller than ever, chin raised, eyes unflinching. It was a courage I envied and feared at once.

Love had become our crime. Every glance we shared, every secret meeting, was now evidence. And in the eyes of the village, evidence is all that is needed to punish.

That night, I saw the first cracks in her spirit. She returned home silently, her usual spark dimmed by the weight of judgment. I wanted to comfort her, to shield her from the world, but the world was a wall that could not be moved by words alone.

I realized then that love in a world ruled by greed and patriarchy is a dangerous thing. It is fragile. It is scandalous. And it comes at a price few are willing to pay.

We did not know then how high that price would be. We only knew that what had been secret was now seen—and what is seen must be accounted for.

CHAPTER 6: THE FIRST LIE CALLED TRADITION

The village spoke in proverbs, in rituals, in ceremonies that hid the truth behind a polished mask. Tradition, they said, is the law of the ancestors. Obedience, they whispered, is the price of life.

But I had begun to see it for what it really was: a lie dressed as law, a trap woven to keep girls small and powerless.

She was summoned to the elder’s hut one afternoon, summoned not as a student, not as a girl with curiosity, but as a commodity. Her small hands clutched at the hem of her dress, her eyes searching for someone—anyone—to defend her.

The elders spoke of alliances, of arrangements, of marriages that would secure land and loyalty. Her name was on the ledger of transactions. Her youth and her learning were irrelevant. What mattered was the tradition of exchange, the greed behind smiles, the silent approval of a system that could not tolerate a questioning girl.

“It is your duty to accept,” the elder said. “To refuse is to dishonor your family and disrupt the balance that protects us all.”

She listened quietly, the fire in her eyes slowly dimming. But her silence was louder than any scream.

I wanted to step forward, to argue, to fight. But I was powerless in the face of centuries of obedience. The truth is that courage alone is not enough when the weight of tradition presses against the spine.

That night, she returned home with a quiet sorrow I had never seen before. I watched her trace letters in the sand, the same letters she had once memorized with joy. Now they seemed heavy, laden with the knowledge that learning could not protect her from the world that sought to contain her.

Love, I realized, was no longer our secret sanctuary—it had become a witness to injustice. Every smile, every glance, every lesson we had shared had left a mark, a proof that we dared to defy. And the world, as always, demanded payment.

It was the first lie she had been forced to accept: that tradition, the thing that claimed to preserve life, was sometimes the very force that stole it.

And as she slept that night, her dreams were not of letters or lessons, but of the freedom that had been promised yet denied, a freedom that we both knew might never come.