Love is serious… love is not sex



sex is pure

it is ecstacy

it is enjoyable and worthy of longing

it’s easier to stop before you start

and can hardly stop once started

it has no greater words to define it

than just sex


it is what it is

it entails a lot

it justifies itself whether in

the beginning, the middle or the end

it’s easier done than said

nothing else like it

nothing else to express it


whether between the opposite sex

or between the same sex

or even alone with yourself

it sure has its effects

joyful or sadenning

ecstasy or plain guilt

depending on you


it’s best kept sacred

as sacred as holy

best between two people

that have become one

  • a blessing of oneness

unless so

it is never fulfilling


it  can never be casual

no matter how hard we try

to pretend otherwise

once after the act

you feel fulfilment when done in the right

or disaster when done in the wrong


it is so and shall remain so

it was before us

and will remain after us

we should hence play by the rules

‘keep it sacred and holy’

‘let it be joyful and glorious’

it is for the married


the fall, the despair, the anger

that arise after done in the wrong

the guilt, the distrust, the evil

that can never go away from

sex done in the wrong

can only go away when sex’s done in the right

with the right person at the right time


it is said

the word so sacred

the deed so pure

the act so misused

can mar you or bless you

depending on your chouice

mine is sure, ‘leaving it as it should be’


A Night on the 3rd Mainland

It was a beautiful day. It had been from the beginning. Nigeria was celebrating her independence day. It was the first of october.


I had spent my day at home but left in the evening to close the glorious day at a film festival. A lovely festival it was indeed with beautiful pictures, cocktail and all, and then, the night began. I left for home, or at least, I began my journey back home.

It was some minutes after 10pm when I got to Obalende to board a bus for Ketu/Mile 12. Well, it was probably some minutes after 11pm when i actually saw a bus to board. It was mindblowing what had happened before me; people were flying into buses from any available entrance and private vehicles were not spared in the massacre of bus seats- people were desperate to go home. While this seems normal to some people, it isn’t to me as I am not a Lagosian.

After we had left, some passengers began to haggle with the driver on his N150 bus fare, and they insisted on paying N100. So, our dear driver, provoked, stopped on the 3rd mainland bridge and decided to collect his N150 before continuing the journey. wow! It was shocking to me that a human could be so mean; what if something had happend?

And then something happened: immediately after he had begun the journey again, one of his bus tyres ruptured (:ouch!) Then, I checked and it was some minutes to 12midnight. We alighted for him to change the spoilt tyre before recontinuing oncemore. While he was unto the repair, I distracted myself a little bit to notice the beauty of light in the dark(indeed, it is beautiful).
I noticed that vehicles still plied that road despite the late hour of the night/early hour of dawn.
Then, I confirmed that the water (ocean) under that bridge has an awful smell.

In conclusion, I arrived home some minutes after 12midnight. So, this, my people, is how I watched over my country while she marked her 53rd anniversary till dawn.

I’m a patriotic Nigerian. Are you?



#DIsclaimer: I am not an employee of any church community neither am I dreaming to run one. I’m just a full blown christian using my God given freedom to speak on my view on the usage of church money.

It’s a pity that it is now common to hear negative comments against the church community- ‘this pastor is just using our money for personal business’ ‘that pastor is cruising with our tithe’. True as it may seem, please if you are not spell bound in a place, leave there and relocate. Yes! go somewhere else; where you would be comfortable with whatever mode of conduct they operate with. While you are at it, read my view on church money usage hehehehehehe


The church I now belong with is a mega cool church. It rocks inside-out; you know, like that description of a virtuous 10/10 babe (at least that is how it is to me). You could actually take a day off and decide to lounge in church(aside ‘spiritual’ matters). It is comfortable, down to the rest rooms, with security guys watching over your stuff…


So, with this is mind, we agree that money is needed for it’s maintenance, right? Why then do we ‘blindly’ complain about the misuse of church money. Do we not see the ‘lush’ before us (that is if your church is anything like mine winks)? That even when we flee the ‘heated mosquito nights’ and run to church for different ‘vigils’, we actually enjoy cool nights in church as a result of the beautiful workings of the AC down to the toilets? Do we not feel guilty when we don’t contribute to foster stuff like this yet freely enjoy them?

People of the church, it is not like you are given an amount to offer in church, neither are you compelled to offer anything at all. It is actually a give as you can stuff; but when we want to use it, we use it as we can and never complain of misusing church things. Infact, it is at points like this that we claim full membership of the church(like seriously). We know we would pay heavily if it were a hotel or stuff like it. Why do we let material things come between us and God? Well that question is actually between you and God.

As for me, I know where my church money goes. It goes to the maintenance of my church facilities and the running of its organograms

our church nairas are being used well so stop the panic. lol.

On a more serious note though, I think we know all these that I’m ranting about but maybe, somehow, we just always  look foward to what/whom to transfer our aggressions; and because the church community is a representation of the body of Christ ( who would give you the left cheek after you have slapped the right…), we freely burst them there. This is unfair.

You that complain about money laundering in church, I thnk if you do not have a proof, please work on yourself and stop assuming that the society or the church is up against you. And for all of us in general, it might not be church money that is bothering us. It might be lesser or greater things, but let us work on the states of our hearts so that we can walk in and enjoy the liberty that God has called us into.

Let us not let worthless things burden us so that we can smile better and live healthier.

Like the pastor of that my rocking church will say, do one kind thing today and let God bless you.


(please if this does not concern you, do not embrace it)


This one be like pidgin. lol.

Sha, straight to the point. Yesterday, I witnessed fear; I didn’t have N50 to spare, so I trekked from Ojota to Maryland (Lagos) for the first time in my life, and passing that flyover was very fearful(please don’t ever try it); the breeze from the speeding BRT buses almost blew me away if not for God ( for those that think BRTs run slowly, just trek next to it and prove me right). In fact, we were only 3 trekkers on that highway- I, a not so sound man and one of these regular Lagos hustlers. While I admired the guts of these ” guys, I was scared I was going to either be blown away by the buses or fall off the bridge(and die on one of those random faeces yuk)

Anyway, I continued my journey, reached my destination soundly, and I wont try it again… at least I hope so

So today, I witnessed fear again, but this time around, it was from my colleagues in my German class( I’m learning German: multilingual lady).

My class is filled with sparkling guys and babes- tushed peeps; married and single; yet most of these people become fearful in pronouncing German words when all they need do is follow the instructor while looking into their books and saying what they see in the ways the words makes sense to them. Rest assured hausaufgaben buchstabieren etc are not funny when pronouncing it for the first time, but to me, it is the student’s privilege to leave the correction job for the teacher, hence, give voice to whatever is in your mind and let the teacher correct you. But it seems that like me on that Ojota/Maryland highway, my colleages do not want to spare their 50bucks(their voice and other things), so they walk in the fear of being blown away by BRT buses and falling into shit. And guess what, these guys always look for who is laughing at them or who is waiting for their downfall( bla bla… excuses) just like I was expecting the next bus to destroy me or to miss step and fall…

It might not be german words for you. It might be something greater or lesser than that, but please give it all it takes and overcome that fear. Let’s not let fears hinder us from great achievements.

So, see you above your fears…

Up Nepa! by @Enigmatic_nez

Add your thoughts here… (optional)
Up Nepa indeed
A good opinion sha


Technically they are now known as PHCN (Power Holding company Of Nigeria) but what does that matter?..Washing the exterior of a pot whilst leaving the interior filthy!   
Electricity is the crux of the Country’s Economic problems and you would THINK that our government would know that. We have been fed with half-baked excuses as to why constant electricity is a gradual climax to reach and how there is a vision 2050 where Nigeria will be an utopian city. *yawns   

From Intelligent propositions like the varying numbers of mega-watts that will be gradually increased over a 5-year interval to the most Ludicrous; Witches sitting on the Electricity poles or having their nightly rituals inside the Kainji dam.(And you wonder why we are still a 3rd world country. Oh, my bad; developing country)

Did you know that we supply Ghana electricity and they have constant power now? Of course…

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Anna’s crush

I’ve not always been the mind blowing, eye catching kind of babe right from teenage years. I mostly stay on my own and expect every other person to do the same. In fact, I believe that everybody is good but I learnt a big lesson and was proven wrong…

I had my first crush at 27. I didn’t think it was a crush then oh. It had to be love… he was everything I wanted after all- sparkling, smart, articulate, creative and he had a way of sweeping me off my feet… a lady’s man, and I counted myself lucky until I shared a dream with him

I told him that I was the mother of his babies… A sweet dream I guess

I also guess Mark misunderstood me. He changed in an amazing way. He began to mount pressure on the relationship. He was bent on fulfilling my dream in a way I didn’t want. He wanted me to get pregnant without properly marrying me. It was offensive to me but I guess he wasn’t after my opinion. I resisted his advances… and he planned for me.

It was the evening of my 30th birthday, and he was taking me to a lake out of town. I was happy and excited…

Suddenly, we started into a forest like region and I became afraid. Well, he was my boo so I gat to trust him…

We got into a lonely place and he suddenly stopped the car complaining of an engine fault. He made some calls and in a romantic way bought out some “surprise” snack  from the boot for us to eat while waiting for his friend to come with a mechanic. When the waiting was long over due, I decided to enjoy the day before it was over. I took a stroll around the forest region with my boo until I was tired and he decided to carry me. He lifted me on his back and I giggled as we returned to the car, where he decided we should rest a little…

Once inside the car,he locked it and began to flatter me with his sweet talks. I was laughing through it absentmindedly. Then I felt his hand on my thighs…
Shocked, I asked him to stop and slapped off his hands.
To my amazement, he slapped me ( and this has never happened before).  Speechless, I looked into his eyes and saw what I had never seen before: EVIL…
Knowing where I was and remembering my plans of being a virgin till marriage, I pleaded with everything in me…

I got a beating for each plea, and when I was worn out due to the beatings, I passed out.

I woke up the next afternoon in a hospital with bandages. I asked the nurses what I was doing there and they had no Idea. I asked the doctors too and they said I was brought in by a woman, and after much description, it was obvious she was a good Samaritan.

It’s my 32nd birthday now and I still don’t know what Mark did to me that faithful evening. I’m alive and healthy. I haven’t seen Mark again since then but I’ve made up my mind never to trust a man ever again.