The Hope of a Mother

My first love,
Friend,
An imperfect but curious listener;
I see the Heavens clapping in appreciation for the goddess she is.
What a courageous creation?!

A good look at her old pictures kept a rush of emotions coming in;
Old enough to tell the difference between defeat and courage,
I prevented the gathered liquor in my eyes from getting me drunk in sorrow.

The loss in weight, beauty and meekness somehow serves as a source of fuel for my hardwork;
Embarking on a journey to put a genuine smile on her face again,
The diminishing accessory that causes her fading beauty.

Her ageing running faster than time,
Reminds me of the little time I have to make her proud.

Pardon me for my unavailability, over seriousness and unfriendliness,
Someone most likely needs me more.

A good steer at her flattened face,
her ageing breasts in an old underwear leaves me sad but not weary.

She looks straight into my eyes,
with no words spoken,
but I hear every word.

Her eyes tell me hope,
In the midst of fears and a weakened strenght,
And it is up to me.

Never!
Never!
Never! Will it be recorded that I ever gave up,
because if I did,
where will her genuine smile lie?
On her face?

True Christianity!

I had this wonderful hair stylist who knew what
to do with my thick kinky hair. She is the type
they call, 'hair dresser' (in my Yoruba voice). Her
veranda served as her shop and her hair tools
weren't more than a set of comb, a small
container of 'ori', ilarun and there was a paper
containing pictures of different kiko styles and
African weaves glued to the wall.
As we chatted and laughed, suddenly I heard a
woman shouting at the top of her voice few
houses away. I remembered that people went
about their activities without rushing there to do
the tatafo thing. Then I heard that she was a
thorn in the flesh of her neigbours and had
quarreled with almost every occupant in the
house...including the landlady.
Afterwards when I walked down the street, I took
a quick glance at the house, my eyes widened
when I saw the supposed trouble maker. How
can an S.U be doing this?
Weeks later, I met her at a gathering, dressed in
one long something like that, the neck of her
blouse raised to high heavens and for some
seconds I just stood and stared at the gentle,
sisterly face. I tried to fit in the two personalities
into one body.
It is very clear to me now and I must not be
moved by the outward, mine is not even an
exception.
Long skirts, fat Bibles, turtle neck dresses, long
powerful facebook post, participating in a 70 day
fast, raising hands to heaven and speaking in
tongues, standing on the podium and preaching a
wonderful sermon.... is no evidence of a Christ-
filled life.
So when a guy says he strongly believes he has
been led to a sister because he's gone through
her fb photos and what he sees is a virtuous
wife, I shudder.
When someone proudly tells me he doesn't care
about the complaints from his roommates who
are upset because their sleep are constantly
being disrupted by his loud prayers.
When as an usher, you can quietly take money
from the offering bag for your personal use and
yet you brag about how you completed the 100
days fast without missing out a day.
As I read God's words, I hear His voice again.
'Did you really fast for me? Should you not have
obeyed the words which I proclaimed... by
showing mercy and compassion, executing
justice, refraining from oppressing the widow and
the poor, planning no evil in your heart against
your brother....'
God is more concerned with our character
development than our solemn looking faces and
'i-am-bro so-and-so' outlook...because a man
whose heart has been transformed into the image
of Christ will reflect that life outwardly.
We must not be well decorated sepulchres filled
with dead men's bones. What use is a sparkling
cup filled with dead cockroaches and ants.
Our desire must be that God breaks and deal
with the self life, that our eyes be enlightened to
comprehend the breadth, length, depth and
height of the love of Christ.
I'll rather work with two young ladies who crave
for a daily revelation of Jesus, than with a crowd
of people whose greatest concern is measuring
morality.
By Ife Grace Dada

Welcome to Edu Teenz: The Irony of a Lonely Silence 1.

Welcome to Edu Teenz: The Irony of a Lonely Silence 1.:      She was seated at the balcony threading the melon seeds her mother bought from the market which arrived alongside with a continuous co...

The Irony of a Lonely Silence 1.

     She was seated at the balcony threading the melon seeds her mother bought from the market which arrived alongside with a continuous complain by her mother about the price of everything sold in the market. "This APC change people have started again o! I do not know what change they have created, it is not good o! Ah! Honey!" Referring to her husband, in a more serious way, the father of her children. Who on earth could be more important to a woman than that? He was seated on a couch, watching soccer and reading a newspaper; he believed two was better than one supporting it with his life in the his village years back which Gbemisola and her mother manoeuvred one way or the other because it lasted for quite a number of minutes most times.
"Honey! You won't believe,  a cup of melon now cost 150 naira as against 100 naira". Gbemi's father nodded in surprise or maybe a cared pretence, something parts of his brain had connived to do many times.
     Threading melon seeds was Gbemi's worst chore in the home but she seemed not to care. At least, not this time. She was physically present in the balcony, one part of her brain devoted to the threading but other parts were far gone! She took really deep sighs at intervals, a sign she was in deep thoughts.
     She jumped up pouring the threaded melon seeds into the bowl containing the shells when her mother screamed her name, "GBEMISOLA!". Unknown to her that was the third time. She stuttered "em, em, ma!". "You want to sleep there ehn?" her mother shouted. "Sorry mom" she replied trying to cocoon under the canopy of their friendly relationship characterised by American style English.
She hurriedly picked the melon seeds and dashed to the kitchen. She assisted her mother flashing made up smiles from time to time. Her mother was pleased. She had always been a good girl, obedient, loving, caring, godly and kept a good relationship with her mother. Her elder sister and brothers were out of the  country in search of greener pastures.
When they were done, she washed the plates and ate her food the same manner she threaded the melon seeds.  On her way to her savage - her room, her father invited her over to the sitting room, her mother was also seated.
Her heart began to race,  she could feel it, it was pounding really hard. She sat without comfort, she was sure she would not experience that for quite sometime, it was not necessary and she was not sure it will be for a long time.
She tried sitting far from them but her dad pulled her close to himself. She was this time shaking. She had not been good at keeping secrets for a long time. "Ogini? Hope all is well"her father asked. She tried speaking but a sound would not just come! She tried the second time but it was worse, random thoughts came pouring into her head.
Her mother stretched out a cup of water towards her, her father took it from her mother and handed it over to her. Gbemi swallowed harder than someone with an infected throat, harder than one with a bone stuck in the throat. It took longer than ever to finish a glass of water swallowing in noisy gulps.
Finally, she was done. Her father held her hand and she remembered how Bayo also held that hand, it was the same way and for a moment she compared the finger nails and complexion wondering if they were all kind of related.
     "You are shaking!! Do you have malaria? Her father asked. "Are you pregnant?!" Her mother blurted out. At the sound of that word her head started to follow the pounding routine of her heart and maybe her lungs. All these connive of organs will probably leave many doctors speechless with either flabbergast or an inability to explain what was going on in her body system.
At this point, she began to sweat profusely realising scary movies tell a bit of  truth. Her mother was already standing with questioning eyes with her hand on her waist when they heard a knock on the door.
Bayo came in...

SIMPLE ETIQUETTE

By Kosy Asikwo
♠ SIMPLE WAYS TO SHOW COURTESY
MAYBE YOU'RE A VICTIM, CHECK AND CORRECT
IT....
1. Don't break up with someone over text
messages.
2. In case you miss a call, drop a message as
soon as possible if you're unable to call.
3. Pay back borrowed money as soon as possible
no matter how little the amount is. Don't assume
that they don't need it and never make them ask
you for it.
4. Turn the volume down when you're
watching a video, playing music or playing a
game on your phone in a public place or better
yet, use headphones.
5. Don't press your phone or use headphones
when someone is having a conversation with you.
Unplug the headsets from your ears even if
nothing is playing and give them your undivided
attention.
6. When using someone else's phone or
computer, Don't go through their stuff without
permission.
7. Always leave the last piece (of meat) for the
person who bought it unless they insist they
won't eat it.
8. Don't use speaker phone to have a two person
conversation unless your hand are unable to hold
the phone.
9. When someone else cooks for you, offer to help
clean the kitchen.
10. If you stay the night at someone's
house, make the bed or fold the blankets when
you leave.
11. Don't let your arguments escalate in public.
Find someplace else to continue arguing where
others won't feel uncomfortable or interested.
12. If you ask your friends for help with some
house work, feed them as payment.
13. When someone buys you food or coffee, try
to return the favour within a week (if you can).
14. When you borrow someone's car, fill up the
tank as a way of saying 'thank you.'
15. Don’t pickup a call when u engage in
conversation without taken permission.
16. Make sure you don't forget to return that
book you borrowed.
17. When someone gives you a gift, no matter
how small it is or the way it was presented, even
if it wasn't up to your Expectation, Just say
'Thank You'.
18. When you have someone older than you
who's friendly and makes himself free with you,
Speak to them with respect.
19. Don't Feel too big to be corrected or reject
good advice because you feel it's your life...
Life is a ring...The next blow can come anytime.
20.when you see any messages on your social
media try and reply don't feel too proud may be
because you are a celebrity no one knows
tomorrow.
Help enlighten the world
DON'T STOP LEARNING! WHY?
LEARNING MUST BE continuous.......
SHARE FOR SOMEONE TO LEARN.......
SHALOM....