Free Pass

You might get a free pass that day when you show Him why you didn’t believe. With many brilliant theorems, arguments and proofs you might convince Him that He couldn’t have been.

I will never be in that place, capable of denying the wonders of His grace. I have seen Him work through my despair, rescue me and answer my prayers. He has touched my flesh and saved my soul, I would sooner deny myself than let that lie be told.

God is real, though our human minds may not have the range or receptors to seek Him out. But in my heart I know without a doubt, His love and mercy found my mouth. You might get a free pass that day but I must testify of what I know, God is real and good to me.

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Things The Book You Don’t Write Will Never Do

I don’t know
what the book you write will do
but I know the book you do not write
will never win a Man Booker, a Baileys, a Kirkus or a 9Mobile
will never top a list or close a list
will never be a book club rave
kindling debate and speculation the world over
will never have a sequel
never be a movie
or a series
or a franchise
It will make you no millions
earn you no fans
birth you no rivals
It will not make a reviewer shudder with delight
or squirm in pain
it will never be quoted
book-spine story stacked
photographed, venerated, or vilified
It will never gladden a heart or fill one with rage
It will cause no laughter, awe, anguish or shame
It won’t spark friendships between strangers
build bridges between daughter and father
create kinship between old and young
It will do none of these things
That I guarantee.

Let Me Tell You About Africa

Shall I tell you of the monkeys and zebra? Which I (and most Africans) have only seen on TV? Perhaps I should tell you of the mud huts and trees which everyone believes we live in, but that would be injustice to my water and electricity bills.

Maybe I should tell you of dirty children with swollen stomaches, mouths covered by flies but that wouldn’t be fair to the ones watching cartoons and quibbling over ice-cream, playing video games on second hand phones.

Aha! I will tell you about the bushes! Dense forest and sprawling jungles, But my grandmother’s farms have made way for the highway and our forests have been felled for estates. All my life I have lived in the city, I couldn’t tell an Iroko tree from a Baobab. I eat cornflakes, bread and pancakes. I have never learned the making of my traditional foods: Asa iwa, ato mboro, atong.

I long to tell you about Africa’s rivers the Nile, Niger and Limpopo. Her ever clement weather, summer all year round! But even I have only seen these rivers in Geography textbooks  and National Geographic documentaries. And the deserts freeze as fast as the snow topped plateaus.

One thing I can tell you about Africa is that she has the most amazing people. People strong despite their troubles, cheerful in the midst affliction, resilient in storm.

In Africa people carry each other. People sing each other’s song. And we dance whenever we can, to the beat of a timeless gong. We brave all odds. We laugh in the face of Death. We are magic, miracle and everything in between.

Africa is her people and her people are her. Ancient as the sea, strong as the mountains, that is what I can tell you of Africa, the rest you must touch, taste and see.

The Nigerian god

The Nigerian god
Worshiped from east to west, revered from north to south, called upon by the believer and unbeliever,
as fickle as her followers, twisted and turned by their imagination, powerless to change hearts or create repentance,
Blind to the evils done in her name, quick to give vengeance,
without scruple, doctrine or creed,
Guardian of the thief,
Guide of the oppressor,
Giver of revenge,
Custodian of curses
Created in the image of her own, changing everyday, recreated in every breath,mirror of the masses,
sand, wind and ashes,
Thunder, fire, lightning upon our foes.

He’s Got You

When the world is falling on your head,

your belly is empty and your account red,

when nothing makes sense,

when friend is foe,
and come means go,

when every hour brings another horror,

when white is right and black is a bullet,

when kids are chained and thieves are free,

when vanity is lauded and truth defrauded
Filth applauded,

When your strength is gone,
your body torn,

your hopes and dreams
in slow burn,

When what you want
doesn’t want you,
and
who you love won’t love you,

when you have no money
and places to go,

When life is all this and more,
Close your eyes,
take a deep breath
and know,

He is with you,

He has gone ahead of you,

He will keep and protect you,

today
tomorrow
and evermore

Posted from WordPress for BlackBerry.

Shameless Lover

It has been a year, or longer.
Your feet have not ceased to grace my door,
Your hands have not ceased to knock,
Your lips have not ceased to say my name.

I have been a bad one yes,
but my heart bore always your weight,
my nose always sought your scent,
my eyes saw always your face, on the curtain of my eyelids.

I return, unsure, afraid,
Will you meet me with an embrace or submerge me in slaps?
Will your lips kiss, or pucker to spit on me? Will your nails scratch?

On my fear, I don my strength
this is no time for trembling,
what must be done
must be done

So here I am
Before you,
Stone me or
Else
Bid me welcome.

Posted from WordPress for BlackBerry.

Who Are We?

What are we?
Black or brown?
African or American,
African-American,
or American-African?

Are we our skin or our brains,
our hearts or our legs,
our pain or our faith,
our past or our future?

Are we the mistakes that we made,
or the amends we desperately work towards?

Are we what they say we are?

Or what they say we are?

Who are we?

The Help?
The Magician, The Wretched?
The Negro, The Nigger, The Afro?
The problem or the solutions,
Our passions or our addictions?

Who are we?

We need to know.

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