Lost…

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I’m so confused. So tired of everything. Is this what it feels like? Is this what people feel when they say a part of them is missing? I feel so dead on the inside. I feel so lost. Why are th…

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Lost…

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I’m so confused. So tired of everything. Is this what it feels like? Is this what people feel when they say a part of them is missing?

I feel so dead on the inside.
I feel so lost.
Why are they blaming me?
She left me too!
She promised we’d be together, forever and always. But she lied! She never told me she was dying. She never explained to me the fickleness of life.
Why did she leave me?
And now they look at me like I’m the Criminal. But I didn’t know.
I didn’t know she was sick. I didn’t know about the cancer.
When will this pain stop?
Mama, they’re looking for someone to blame. Why me? I didn’t know too.
Mama, they say I’m a witch. That I drank your blood and ate your flesh. They say I used you for blood ritual and that that is how I got rich.
Mama, they forget that when Papa left us, you hawked and scrounged and planned on how to get food for me to eat. My brother had died along with Papa in the forest when they went to hunt the wild pig that had eaten our cassava crops.
He left us Mama. He and Dede. And now you’ve left me too. Mama, why are you so cruel? Mama, I’m alone…all alone.
Uncle Raymond is standing outside with his cohorts. The ones who took everything Papa left for us. They are back again, like the vultures they are, looking for what to take from me.
Mama, I am tired.
Who do I have to talk to now? Who can I share my secrets with?
Mama, I remember all those times you’d pound cassava to sell and tell me of Jesus. You said Jesus was a good man who changed your life. Mama, I never saw Jesus but I saw how happy you were even in our poverty. You told me stories by the dying light of our local lantern. You would say it was good to be good. I never understood that. Until you sent me to the big city to school.
You always said I would be great. That I would be famous. That the white men would know me.
Mama, now they do. Now I am great. Now I am famous. But you are not here.
Mama, who do I share my achievements with?
But who do I share this sadness inside of me with?
Mama, you were my mother, my father, my sister, my brother and my friend. But now, I have no one. Why did you lie to me?
Uncle Raymond is coming my way. He and Udeme the palm wine tapper. They look smug. What do they want now?
Won’t they give me time to grieve, to mourn, to understand why you left me without saying anything?
Mama, I blame you.
I blame Papa.
I blame my brother.
I have no one.
Only me.
Why am I still breathing?
Uncle Raymond is clearing his throat. He says I have to buy 2 cows, a goat and 2 white hens. He says it is a traditional ceremony to celebrate you. He says the village priest must be given fresh palmwine, kolanuts and cowries to appease the gods.
Which gods, I muse. Which gods would take you away from me?
But Mama, you always say there is only one God. The Father of Jesus. The One who came to die for our sins and to set us free from Ekwensu.
I hear the words coming out from Uncle Raymond’s fat lips but they don’t mean anything.
Whose ceremony?
Mama is still alive. She just went to see Ada, the daughter of her late friend who just gave birth. She’ll come back soon.
But it’s dark now Mama, where are you?

Amaka’s Trials…

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Amaka had never known love. All she had always known was abuse, physical, psychological and mental; she had been told she was worthless all her life. Little difference did it make that after class 3, she ran away from home; nobody bothered to file a missing person’s report or look for her. She had been of no importance to anyone. Amaka ended up on the streets, a whore, a junkie and someone who was repeatedly beaten by her ‘customers’.
By the time she was 16, Amaka had aborted six babies, been treated locally for several Sexually Transmitted Diseases(STDs) that she didn’t even know their etymologies and symptoms. It got so bad that Amaka couldn’t even walk for a long while and her “madam” decided she was of no use to her anymore. She was thrown out and had to search for food on her own, going through other people’s refuse to see if there was anything edible to eat. Amaka looked worse and felt worse than a beggar. she cried herself to sleep every night under the bridges of Lagos even as she was raped almost every night by her fellow under bridge mates.
A woman and her friends came one day to preach the Gospel to those under bridge dwellers; fed them, clothed them and brought other necessities. One of the woman’s friends took an interest in Amaka and convinced her to come home with her. Amaka followed her, after two weeks of repeated “Amaka, you dey better than this, you no fit live here like this na, na fine girl you be”.
Today, with the help of that woman and her friends, Amaka is a graduate, currently running a masters’ programme outside the country. She still remembers her past, but has chosen not to let it dominate her. Amaka is showing herself to be a good example of picking yourself back up after you’ve been trashed in the mud. Amaka is a woman…who has taken up the baton and is helping girls who have been abused and tortured mentally like her. What are you doing?

My Dearest Juliet,

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You’ve heard about Me since the day you were old enough to understand this world. You’ve been told that I formed you in the palms of My Hands. I have made you in My Image so you would lack nothing good, kind, sweet and great. In short you are marvelous to Me.

Ever since we started this relationship, I’ve never been happier. You have made Me glad. The way you talk to Me and about Me has assured Me many times that you love Me.

You are one of a kind Juliet, made so by Me. You have a beautiful soul, mind and spirit that I truly love and admire. I am glad that I made you in My Image. You have made Me proud to know you are Mine.

You have told Me many times that I am the first person you think about when you wake up in the morning, that I’m the only one whose words matter most and that you cannot do without Me no matter the day or time. You pray to Me, you commune with Me and I am joyful you’ve chosen to be with Me.

I hear your thoughts; all the times you wish I was with you visibly. That you could hold, touch and hug Me. I tell you this now; like I have said before, I am always with you until we meet again.

Juliet, I have told you My intentions many times. My intentions to make you My Bride so that we can live together in that glorious place that is without pain, sorrow, anger, grief, poverty and all other things, attitudes, habits that do not please Me. I have explained to you through My prophets, pastors, evangelists and teachers of My Word, how I want you to spend your life here on earth.

Juliet, you’ve cried many times of  how imperfect,unrighteous, and unholy you are. Also I have told you many times that I LOVE YOU as you are even with all your imperfections. But this does not mean you can’t be perfect, righteous and holy. 

Juliet, this is My proposal of love without borders, love without depth, love that cannot be measured in metres, centimetres, feet or inches….you matter to Me no matter what. Just think of the millions of creatures that I take care of every single day; how much more you that I created in My Likeness and Image.

But you must remember, marrying Me means you must be without blemish, spot, wrinkle or any kind of stain. Can you do this so that we may spend life eternal together? WILL YOU MARRY ME?

Your Dearest Love,

GOD

P.S: What do you think about this? Please don’t forget to leave a like, share or comment. Merci!

Shades of Shade

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I’m making the same mistakes again. Letting my emotions lead

me. Eventually, I always get my heart-broken. Will I never learn? Must I repeat the same pattern again?
I am so frustrated right now. I’m doing it again. Putting all my eggs in a single basket. Even when I know that things could never work out.
Is it a crush? Infatuation? Obsession?
Why is it that I always find myself getting attached, attracted and overly concerned to people who always break my heart. I’ve made mistakes that should have served as eye openers when it comes to my love life…
I guess I was never meant to date or be in a relationship. They never last…and it hurts real bad when things don’t work out. Maybe it’s all for a purpose.
This is a reason why I don’t have friends. When they leave, I have to start rebuilding my walls and recreating my defenses and barricades…

My name is Shade
Don’t be like me…

So he told me he likes me a lot and would love for us to date. I smile and tell him OK knowing that it would never last. I like him but I also know he’s not the one I’d eventually settle down with.
I guess I am commitment phobic. But people don’t believe such a thing exists.
9 months down the line,we’ve broken up. I knew this would happen. I predicted it. So why am I still sad? Heartbroken? Confused?
Did I love him? Or not?
I’m just tired of this cycle.

I’m thinking of going gay. Maybe being a lesbian would help. Would it?
I have so much bad luck with guys that I think I might be better off with ladies.
So I try it. It’s still the same. Things go wrong.
Jeez. Is this a generational family problem?

It’s deliverance time. These pastors have
asked me to fast. Been doing that for a week now. I just pray their prayers work…
The prayers are over, been soaked and scrubbed in anointing oil. Huh. It has to work…

I try dating again. I meet a really nice guy. Treats me like a queen, loves God and men. We go steady.
Then he proposes marriage. I get cold feet. I reason, sweat and ponder. I love this guy, right? I should be able to say yes , right?
So what is holding me back?
The deliverance should have worked.
Jeez. This is getting out of hand.

Aisha recommends theraphy. She gives me her doctor’s office number and address. I call. He says he’s available by Friday. I go out of curiosity. He tries his methods. Hypnosis, and all those weird stuff they recommend.
It seems to be working. A year down the line, me and Dr Therapy start dating. It all seems good.
Until he introduces me to his family. Turns out his sister was one of the ladies I dated, his cousin the guy that proposed marriage, his mother the woman who my dad had been with when my mom was out of the country on business. Several times.
Dysfunctional, right?
Not a romantic love story…

I’ve given up on love. It doesn’t exist. I’ve not seen proof of it in my life.
I’m just gonna get a dog. They don’t lie, cheat..
They commit to their owners.
Dogs are reliable.

So here I am, proudly single. Definitely not searching and no longer in need of any solutions….

My name is Shade.
And I’m not normal…