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Journey of Faith and Freshers Ball Fiasco

University life! It’s a rollercoaster of late-night study sessions, caffeine overloads, and those awkward romantic encounters that make you question your life choices. Let me take you back to one of my most memorable varsity moments—a saga that involves a rapper, a bottle of Vitamin Water, and an unforgettable night at the Motheo TVET College Freshers Ball

Picture this: I was casually sipping on my favorite strawberry-flavored Vitamin Water when Mr. Popular Hip Hop Artist (yes, a rapper) dropped a bombshell. “I love that you love God,” he said, “but can you stop posting about it on social media?” Cue the dramatic pause. I had two options: hurl the Vitamin Water in his face or just walk away. Obviously, I wasn’t going to waste my precious Vitamin Water on this guy. So, I strutted away, leaving him to ponder his social media strategy without me but this made me feel a certain way about my faith in God and being a church girl, Am I not cool enough? maybe I should start experimenting… A rapper made me feel like I need to experiment, How did that happen?

Fast forward three months to a chilly June Friday, I had moved on from my love interest and found another, A DJ this time, something was really wrong with my choices, and the pressure in varsity was no joke, I came up with one of the lamest ideas of my life, and I ran it pass my friends. We decided it was time to let our hair down and attend the Motheo TVET College Freshers Ball. Now, Motheo TVET had a reputation for being the wild child of colleges, and I, being the responsible intern in the Marketing and Communications Department, had VIP access. Perks of working while studying part-time, you know?

So, armed with VIP tickets, my friends and I were ready to conquer the night. Little did I know, this was the night I would lose my alcohol virginity to a bottle of Savanna. Let me tell you, friends, nobody warned me that you shouldn’t chug alcohol like it’s water. And another thing, nobody informed me about the “less is more” fashion memo. While I was bundled up in layers to stay warm, the other girls looked like they missed the winter memo entirely, I felt like a nun, it was quickly starting to feel like a night of regrets but I have to suck it up, since I wanted to be “cool” and make wild memories… and this was my idea.

Our night began with hair and makeup sessions that only nerds like us could pull off (we looked like happy clowns). We arrived at the Freshers Ball, and after completing my intern duties, I joined my friends in a circle of classmates. To ditch my shy demeanor, I decided to down that Savanna as fast as I could. Not the smartest move, considering it was bought with grocery money (oh, the sacrifices we make).

Soon, I was everyone’s best friend, smoking hubbly (which I later found out I was allergic to—hello, massive headache and racing heart!). Did I stop? Of course not. The night turned into a blur of dancing, singing into imaginary microphones (a.k.a. our alcohol bottles), and becoming the life of the party. Ciara had nothing on my dance moves, folks I was on fire, we were on fire, the Old Grey’s Rugby field was on fire but still, the more I sip on this Savanna, the more I feel like I am betraying the holy Spirit, remember I had never went out partying and I had never been around so many drunk and high people and instead of enjoying the moment, the holy spirit is dealing with me severely, did I stop? No, my 21 year old mind figured I needed to drink more so that I dont hear the spirit trying to guide me…in other words, I suppressed the holy spirit.

As the night wore on, a guy suggested I sit down and drink water (wise words). My late friend Onele (rest in peace, mate) brought me food. I attacked that chicken like it was my last meal, bones and all. After my feast, I became an emotional wreck. Missing my then-boyfriend, I called him, demanding he pick me and my friends up. Cue the waterworks when he suggested a cab instead.

Amidst all this, my friends Tumi and Monde started fighting. I don’t remember why, but in my drunken mind, Monde was clearly in the wrong. The night descended into chaos. Yet, right when things seemed out of control, I felt a divine nudge to leave. Thank God, my then-boyfriend picked us up, and after a tearful ride home, he dropped everyone off and gently told me, “This is not you. You have to do better.”

The next morning was a scene straight out of a comedy-drama. My mother had left a string of missed calls, and apparently, I had called her in my drunken state, promising to make her proud before breaking into sobs. When she asked if I was drunk, I did what any good child would do—I lied. “No, Mom, just emotional because school is tough.”

To top it all off, I developed a rash from my nicotine allergy and had a nosebleed. My face swelled up like a balloon, and I felt like death warmed over. That Monday, I failed an exam I hadn’t studied for. The shame and guilt of trying to fit into a crowd that wasn’t me weighed heavily on my conscience. That night I tried to blend in by downing alcohol, but it only led to conviction and a realisation that I couldn’t escape the truth I knew. I didn’t have fun, not 1 bit, every change God had to poke me, HE DID!!!!!! Gods voice has so much authority that you can hear Him even when the DJ is doing his thing, the music is never loud enough

In the end, I knew the wild life wasn’t for me. The conviction hit me like a ton of bricks, and I found myself apologizing to God endlessly. The streets just weren’t my scene…I tried it, I really tried and the whole time everyone was having fun, I was dodging the holy spirit, I was pretending, I enjoy nothing that night but the chicken I ate to sober up, I don’t even want to think about what could have happened that night because I wasn’t drunk, I WAS A MESS and the thought that I consciously made the decision to be reckless made me feel stupid, I HATE FEELING STUPID.

I knew that this life is not for me, I wasn’t happy the whole night, I was pretending until I got my mind to believe that we are having fun, believing my own lies. Honestly I would rather be at my place, watching movies and painting my nails, but I was cold, drinking liquid that taste bad and the queue at the bathrooms was annoying, very long, I hated it. I hated the lights that were flashing, I hated the smoke that I was inhaling, I hated the guys who saw that we were chemically off balance and still tried to steal kisses and get us to leave with them. I hated that we couldn’t sit down and relax, I hated that my social battery kept running out so I drank some more, and once drunk, I hated myself.

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Divine Relationships and Self-Acceptance

Have you ever felt the need to pretend to be someone you’re not, just to fit in or to be loved? If so, I want to share a profound truth with you: God cannot bless the person you pretend to be. The divine relationships we all yearn for require us to be our authentic selves and to believe that who we are is good enough.

It’s important to realise that you don’t have to break yourself for attention and care. The right people will give you their time without you having to compromise who you are. It’s not a gamble; it’s about waiting for those who see your worth.

Relationships should not hurt. If they do, it’s a sign that they’re not meant for you. Love should not belittle you or make you feel unsafe. If it does, it might be time to consider letting it go.

You should never feel bad about being who you are, the way God made you. Don’t try to control the unchangeable aspects of yourself just because someone else prefers you a certain way. If they make you feel bad for things you can’t change—like your family, your past, the way you walk, or how you talk—it’s time to walk away.

I remember a song by Macklemore with a line that always resonated with me: “I can’t change, even if I tried, even if I wanted to.” As a young person, I struggled with the desire to fit the mold others had for me. I knew I was different, and it took me time to find my tribe and to embrace the term “nerd.” It was then that I felt normal, like I existed. I found the courage to stop fitting into spaces that rejected me, unless God permitted it for a reason.

My life changed when I realised that there are people praying to encounter someone like me—the original me, with all my baggage and my raging mind. There are people out there who are praying to meet someone like you, flaws and all, as a friend, a business partner, a mentor, or even a spouse. God has been preparing someone to handle you, to address you, to create a safe space for you when you need it. God will never set you up for failure.

Why would you believe that God will align you with people who make you feel you need to be at a certain level to be loved and appreciated? Don’t you know that even at your lowest, He still loves you and thinks you are the best? Why would He put you in a position that makes you feel like you are not enough? You are His beautiful creation. The Bible says, “You are beautifully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:14, NIV). When God mentions the good plans He has for you, do you believe they incorporate abuse?

I pray that you see yourself the way God sees you, and then you will understand that you have always been enough. God will never cause pain without allowing something better to be born (Isaiah 66:9). Don’t let the betrayals, the abuse, or the negative words define you or delay your healing and new beginnings.

Forgive yourself for who you were when you didn’t know better, for what you allowed when you were broken, for the trauma bonds, for the stupid decisions, for the times you stayed, for changing who you are because you wanted to be desperately loved. Forgive yourself for taking for granted what God has made in you, for playing small when God has created so much in you, for settling for less when God has great plans for you.

Now that you have learned your lesson, understand that God has made you perfect. There is nothing in you that disqualifies you from receiving the best of what God has to offer. Stay close to Him, and He will direct you to the kind of relationships you need. You will understand there was nothing wrong with you from the beginning.

May God grant you the ability to meet people who will change your life, bring out the best in you, restore your faith in humanity, and make you realise that all good gifts come from the Father, so that you may seek Him.

And may God hide you, protect you from people who come to steal, lie, destroy, and cheat. May that never be your portion. May you be in the company of people who make you feel loved, appreciated, and cared for—people who make you better, who water you, who will love you in every shape or form, who will make you better.

NB: I am not only refereeing to romantic relationships here, for those of you who love the feeling of love, this is broader than romantic relationships

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Call me Crazy

As I investigate the immense expanse of my future, I am filled with a sense of anticipation and faith. It’s a journey that, at times, can be overwhelming, yet I am lifted by a solid faith that everything works together for my good. This faith, rooted in my deep-seated Godfidence, assures me that even the trials and tribulations that are an expected part of life are working together for my benefit.

I envision a kaleidoscope of blessings. My family, career, finances, and assets are all bathed in the light of divine favour. Despite any hardship that may come my way, I am confident that it will only serve to push me towards a brighter destiny. The scripture from Jeremiah 29:11 resonates within me.

I see myself as a catalyst for change, impacting lives and making a difference in the world. My family is liberated, living in comfort and joy. I am beautified with titles of importance, and my life is a testament to the beauty of God’s presence. My influence is far-reaching, my connections are divine, and my entire existence is aligned with God’s will. There is no room for shame or disappointment, only the sweet taste of success in every endeavour.

But there’s more to this vision of the future. I see myself being a great mother and a wonderful wife. My family is a picture of happiness and my marriage is healthy, and our home is a haven of warmth for our children and my life partner.

The world may have its views on marriage and love, and the statistics may paint a bleak picture, but my story will be different. I will marry once and get it right the first time. My husband and I will grow old together, nurturing our three boys and one girl as a united front. Our love will be calm, patient, gentle, and beautiful, a completely contrast to the wild relationships of my past.

My in-laws will be a source of kindness and affection, and my mother-in-law will be a figure of beauty, not the monster-in-law so often feared. Our children will have the love of both their maternal and paternal relatives, cherished and adored.

Our marriage will reflect God’s glory, a living proof that He is still the author of beautiful love stories. As a wife, I will bring peace to my husband, a man chosen by God, whose leadership and provision will make submission a joy, not a burden. Financial strain will not damage our union, for my kingdom spouse is a man after God’s own heart, blessed and favored by both man and the Almighty.

Ladies, I eagerly await the day when I can say, “I have a man,” and truly mean it…really really mean it because he shows up without fail, he claims me too and he is not ashamed, he makes me feel beautiful and respected.  A day when my husband is the answer to my prayers, and even in conflict, our love remains the foundation of our interactions. I long for the time when I can embrace my femininity, free from the need to be masculine, when my partner’s strength allows me to be soft and vulnerable.

The world may have distorted the image of love and marriage, but my portion is success, love, wisdom, protection, and liberation. This is what I believe for myself, and this is the future I confidently step into, with faith as my compass and Godfidence as my shield…

I am not going to self sabotage, stand on my way of happiness with memories of the past or even allow a love that requires me to lose myself, that’s was okay when I was naïve and gullible but life has made me realise that its okay to believe in beautiful things even when the world is slowly praising the negative side of life, I see good in every arear of my life because I believe in a good God and every good gift comes from the father, that’s my portion

And let it be so and not otherwise

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I just love Him

This morning, I find myself reflecting on the profound grace of a God who not only understands our imperfections but chooses to work through them, molding us into His masterpiece. As I sit here, the early morning light filtering through the curtains, I can’t help but think about the countless ways God has been present in my life, especially in those moments when I felt most out of sync with the world around me.

My mom, an epitome of resilience and strength wakes up at 3 am every morning to help my dad get ready for work, then return to bed for a few more hours before starting her own day at 6 am. Despite her own exhaustion while I was home on leave, she always found the energy to check on me, often finding me awake, with my laptop glowing in the dark as I worked on projects for my side hustle. “You still work while on leave?” she would ask, concern lacing her voice, She found my inability to sleep as a concern and I understood her point of view but I reassured her time and time again, that I am good not because I trust in my own strength, but because God has kept His word to always protect and be there for me, so I had no worries about sleeping or resting, even though I knew that I needed to, I also know that God got me. I am passionate about Marketing and Communications, a field that demands my all, especially when it came to search engine optimization and brand management. My dedication to my clients is unwavering, but it comes at a cost—insomnia becomes a constant companion as I try to balance work, studies and my side hustle.

My mom worried about my health, the late nights, the caffeine, and the toll it was taking on my body. She was right to be concerned. According to science, I am living a risky life, not getting enough sleep, not exercising, not drinking enough water. By all accounts, I am unhealthy, living on the edge of burnout… According to science. But there is something science can’t explain— The God who keeps me in this dysfunction, How does she keep on without sleeping for 3 whole nights? Something only God can answer.

In my darkest moments, when my lifestyle scared my mother and worried those around me, God was there, holding me together. The psalmist writes, “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble” (Psalm 46:1). This verse has been a lifeline for me, a reminder that no matter how chaotic my life may seem, God is my anchor.

One of the most striking examples of God’s presence in my life came during a break-in at our complex. As I walked to my car that morning, the Holy Spirit urged me to go outside earlier than usual. It was there I discovered the burned paper on my car, a sign that something was amiss. My quick action, prompted by the Spirit, alerted my neighbors and potentially saved them from a similar fate. This experience was a testament to God’s communication with me, His voice rising above the noise in my head.

Despite the voices of doubt and the challenges of anxiety and overthinking, God has been faithful. He specialises with people like me, the broken and the weary. The prophet Jeremiah reminds us, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). This truth has been a source of comfort and hope, a reminder that God is Jehovah Rapha, the God who heals, So we are really not broken, as He puts us together again, He is the Potter and we are the clay, therefore I never get comfortable calling myself broken, because I know where the power is, I know once I step in the potters house, I am made whole, Praise be to my God, who fills me up each time I feel like I am running out.

Surrounded by a community of God-fearing women, I’ve learned the value of wisdom and preparation. These women, with their own successes and achievements, have mentored me, guiding me through life’s challenges. They’ve shown me that God provides what we need, even when it doesn’t make sense. He knows our future, our fears, and our dreams, and He has a plan to make us better, even through the fire. For some reason I am loved by older women, they feed me wisdom and strength, I guess that’s why I am more logical and emotional, I receive strength from women who have walked different paths into this world. God knew I would need that as a first born, I would need women who speak to me like sisters and give me advise on Finances, love and spiritual warfare. God always knows what we need and He gives it to us in abundance, praise be to the God who sees.

As I write this, it’s a form of praise, a celebration of God’s faithfulness in my life. He is my foundation, my anchor, and my best friend. Our relationship is real, raw, and beautiful. He allows me to be myself, to doubt, to question, and to fight, yet He remains steadfast in His love.

In a world that often feels overwhelming, with its focus on science, money, and success, I find solace in the simplicity of my relationship with God. He understands me, the quirks and the chaos, and He loves me anyway. As the psalmist declares, “You have searched me, Lord, and you know me” (Psalm 139:1). This knowledge, this intimacy with God, is my greatest treasure.

So, today, I choose to praise Him, to lift up His name, and to share the story of His faithfulness in my life. For in my dysfunction, He has been my strength, my healer, and my peace. And for that, I am eternally grateful. I JUST LOVE HIM

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HEALING ME

#UNEDITED CONTENT

In January 2023, I found myself sitting in a bathtub, listening to the silence that filled the bathroom. I didn’t plan to get back to my life in the city as soon as I did but I had to leave home early for my sanity…

I was broken beyond repair, feeling like a bad person, unworthy, and mostly alone, misunderstood, and unimportant. As I sat there, I replayed the argument I had with my mother. It seemed like fighting was the only thing we got right in our mother-daughter relationship, every year especially on New Years Eve, we would be at it, this automatically made the 1st of January to be the worst for me, for 2 years (2022 – 2023), this was a time where people had new year resolutions and they were ready to tackle the next 364 days, but the 1st of January for me felt like hell, and days that followed, this happened FOR 2 YEARS.

Growing up, I accepted that mothers weren’t meant to be friends with their children because at home we were taught to never speak with elders, they are not your friends, be it an aunt, your older cousin, they are not your friends, they are elders, you respect them and do as they say. But as I got older, life isolated me. Being the firstborn, I didn’t have a sister, and while my younger siblings came to me for guidance, I had no one to turn to. I was their hero, but no one was mine. I had few friends and I often kept to myself, I thought I was an introvert due to my inability to express myself, I didn’t know it was something I needed help with.

During the argument, I barely spoke. If you know me, you know I find it hard to express myself, especially when I’m hurting or sad. I shut everyone out, disappear, and only come back when I feel like myself again (I’m working on that, though).I was silent while my mother pointed out all my faults, making me feel like I’d never done anything right in my life. It dawned on me that we would never have a healthy mother-daughter relationship. This wasn’t a one-time thing; it happened repeatedly. But this time, it hit me like a heart attack, causing damage, maybe because I was nervous about starting the year 2023 and I needed comfort than an argument.

I was now at my place and I started crying in the bathtub, accepting that we would never understand each other. Before I knew it, us not knowing each other didn’t hurt as much anymore as I have made peace with it however I had a thorn in my spirit that involved womanhood, Yes! I cried because I’m a woman who might have a daughter one day, and I have no idea how to raise a girl. I never had a sister, and the only sisterly kindness I received was fleeting, from strangers who eventually moved on. How would I talk to my daughter? How would I make her feel loved? What will I say to her when she is hurting? and that killed me inside to a point where I decided that I didn’t want kids, love, or marriage anymore. If my own blood misunderstood me, how could I trust a stranger? So, I decided to shut down, stay away, and be numb, be a corporate mogul who feels nothing.

It took me months to go home again. Even when I did, I wanted to leave quickly. I would rather be at my small bachelor apartment, it wasn’t much, but it accepted me, It made me feel safe. Every piece of furniture or food I bought felt like an acceptance of who I was, it was good enough and I felt more at home than I have ever been IN MY ENTIRE LIFE, A small apartment with no one in it but myself and my music was the only thing that made me feel safe. I can’t get into everything that happened, however I realised that parents are still learning to love themselves too. They’re human, still learning to accept change and fight their demons. I was a daughter trying to please everyone, and they got used to it. When I finally learned to say no, it was too late, resulting in conflict. I apologised when I was wrong and even when I wasn’t, but it never worked. Before you judge me for letting the relationship burn out and not going home for a while, please understand that it affected my mind and how I accepted love from people, I never thought someone would like me just because I am me I thought I had to do something first and then get an approval, I didn’t feel the way I feel about myself now and I am glad I can finally write about it. I was making videos with words I needed to hear, and  I was preaching, comforting people with words I yearned for.

Back to the tub. After crying, feeling sorry for myself, I decided to get my laptop and play some music. Gospel music always helps, especially Maverick City. I search and played “Isaiah Song” on YouTube Music, but for some crazy reason, “The Healing” by Blanca and Dante Bowe followed, I wanted to repeat “Isaiah Song” because its my favourite but I was too tired  to get out of the tub, reach for my laptop to stop the song that played after (The Healing” by Blanca and Dante Bowe) so I just let it play . The first time I heard this song, I cried so hard my whole-body shook. The lyrics spoke for me. I needed God to heal how I saw myself as a woman, a daughter, and a child of God. I needed to see myself the way God sees me. I’m a fighter, but I had no fight left. Why continue if there’s nothing good about me to fight for? I was through

There’s a line in the song that says, “Healing me, you’re healing me.” I surrendered. Like I said…I had no fight left, nothing to give. Right there in the bathtub, God reached me. I wasn’t in church or home cell; I was a broken girl in a bathtub when God embraced my heart. I felt healing, like I mattered, and could carry on. I put the song on repeat, letting the lyrics make a statement for me since I couldn’t speak, I remember saying to the holy spirit “the word says you pray for us when we don’t have the words to say, I think you’re helping me now to say all I want to say through this song, THIS IS MY PRAYER, this is my statement, I am tired of being broken and bruised, make every part brand new” …repeating the lyrics of the song, like a prayer… a statement, a declaration.

I got out after a while, with blood-red, swollen eyes, and accepted Christ to mend me and everything broken. I accepted Christ to teach me what love is afresh. I started learning how to speak. I’d come home from work, invite the Holy Spirit, and start speaking. At first, it was hard, but it got easier, and I felt lighter. I never knew how to scream in anger or pain. I would just be silent and let tears flow. But one time, I cried out loud, “I need you, God. I really need you,” so even hell would recognise that I was calling on my God… the very first time I screamed in pain was when I called to God telling Him that I need Him, the first time I ever said the words “I NEED YOU” was when I cried to God, the very first time…

It took time before I went home again, and even then, I gave up on trying to be okay with my mother or anyone else in the family for that matter, I just wanted to be alone, initially the plan was to do bad all by myself but mercy said “Nah, not today mami”. I gave God full control.

Today, my mother and I have established a relationship. I don’t know how we got here, it just happened, now we can talk, laugh, gossip, and share beauty tips. We can sit and drink tea, just the 2 of us, though sometimes I have dreams of us arguing or not being okay like we used to, I just wake up and pray about it. We are friends… Generational Curses are breaking, bit by bit

Something amazing happens when you let God reach you. When you let go of all fight and power, and let Him have access to you, He has a way of putting you back together. You won’t even recognise why you were crying or why you were a mess. Rely on God; no one else can mend you like Jesus can. Let God be God.

Typing this now, I’m crying again, but these are tears of joy, not pain and rejection. I’m crying because God found me when I thought I wasn’t worth anyone reaching out to. He healed a pain I was willing to accept and live with. I was willing to live with no connection to my family and the world, but God didn’t want that for me. He healed me. I wasn’t looking for healing that day, I was looking for music to ease the pain for a little while, just enough to get me by, I was looking forward to live, bruised and broken as long as I am functioning, its okay. I wanted to be numb, and I apologise to anyone I met before this encounter, I might have bled on you when you are not the one who even cut me, I might have made you feel the same way I was feeling, when your intentions were pure, I couldn’t have recognised it because I lacked love and compassion for myself… for that I am sorry. Now anyone who comes into my life to hurt and destroy, be it family, close friends, colleagues, I dont even care who they are, they end up hurting themselves because I am at peace, at a place where I know who I am in God and who fights my battles, I am not reciprocating negative energies, I let people fumble me on their own, I dont help them hurt me anymore, I am liberated…You can tell, if you knew me then and you meet me now, you will tell that there is a shift and thats what God does, He breaks the foundation, the root of your pain so good that it has no ability to rule your life anymore. He does the same with relationships that are toxic, He breaks the alter so good, He turns the foundation into powder that going back is no longer an option…

God is never too late to help, I am glad I had this encounter on my own, no Pastor or mentor infused this experience, God found me yal, face to face, one on one, me and Him and all the things I thought He didn’t care about, I found out that day that He loves me and that was the first time I was sure that I can hear God speak, so clear and assuring, so peaceful yet powerful, His presence made the whole room feel like it doesn’t exist, I even forgot that I have nothing on, that I am in a bathtub, everything about me or who I thought was disappeared, it was me and God and HE MADE ME WHOLE 😢😢😢😢

He is my healing.

For those who want to hear the song, see the link below

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I want to know you

I was tasked with writing about love, those electric feelings that spark when you see that special someone. “Make it sexy,” they said. “It should get readers’ dopamine running out of control,” they said. The moment I heard that, I knew I was in deep trouble. I have no idea what gets dopamine running.

For two long weeks, I’ve been trying to write something sexy, and guess what? Nada. Zip. Zero. My brain was as dry as a desert. So, I thought to myself, “Hey, let’s write what we know. It might not be good enough to ignite dopamine and send anyone to a frenzy, but it’s our truth.” And after countless failed attempts, this is what I came up with… tell me what you think, even if your dopamine got dry while reading it, tell me regardless.

I want to know you

Every morning, there you are,

A vision across the street, at the café, with your coffee.

Newspaper in your hand, in this digital age, are you

An old soul, a thinker, or just a sage?

I’m not one for caffeine, or the world’s news,

But I’m drawn to you, in ways I can’t refuse.

I watch you, every day, from my side,

Imagining the thoughts, that wander wide.

I want to know you.

Your fingers tap, in silent rhythm as you read through a book,

Your smile, a hidden gem, in your firm grip, I wonder where you’ve been?

What lies beneath the surface of your strength, so deep?.

Do you panic when life goes steep? Do you keep calm?

I want to know you.

When you flip through those pages, what thoughts lie behind that paper’s shield, so high?

Where do you wander, when you seek to fly?

Who holds your secrets, when the world weighs heavy?

These questions, like shadows, follow me, so steady.

When fear creeps in, and you need a release,

I want to be your breath, your moment of peace.

Inhale me, exhale me, let me in to your world,

Give me your fears, let me be your evade.

I want to whisper life when your world comes crumbling down.

I want to feel the weight of your battles.

To be the lips you curl around, the one you consume,

Escape the world’s rage and come discover the realms within me.

Trace a path of fire with your lips, from the curve of my neck to the tender expanse of my…well, I’ll let you decide.

Unleash the tremors, ignite the volcano within our being.

I long to leave my mark, to etch desire with my nails as you delve into the abyss.

Plunge into the depths, let passion spill over, never fear the hunger you awaken.

Lock eyes with me as you venture further into the unknown, don’t shy away from the intensity.

May I explore the sanctity of your soul? Do you desire the connection of our gazes?

Summon me from slumber for another dance of ecstasy, and I shall welcome it with open arms.

They say men like you, are hard to impress,

With hearts on sleeves, in vulnerability, still I confess…you got my attention

I’ve been thinking about all the things I would do, if you let me

I have been thinking about how love is best served warm,

What I offer you need, this is what you’ve been craving for

With me, there are no limits, I’ll go the distance,

All you need is to let go of the past’s persistence.

Let’s find that place, where only we can be,

Let me be your pleasure, your solace, your sea.

Our union will be a symphony, something you have only dreamt of,

When we move, worlds will collide, magic will be woven, you will be fulfilled.

Fast, slow, wild or tender, we can explore together to reach new heights,

You rise, and I rise, that’s how life is enriched.

I will be singing your name in your ears, the neighbours will start to envy,

Because magic we make each time our skin caresses each other.

You in the depths of me, and me intertwined with you, that’s the eternal bond I yearn for.

You within my sanctuary, unravelling the mysteries I’ve kept guarded,

You would want to savour every moment with me, our connection will be legendary, you will want to share our story, you would want to thank the stars for it.

When our silhouettes align, I invite you to experience a bliss that transcends the ordinary.

A deep-seated thrill, I long for you to embrace the power that courses through your veins.

Let me gaze into the depths of your being as we entwine.

Observe the joy you ignite within me, to chart the distant lands you lead me to.

In your fervour, I find an unyielding force; do not waver, press on until my cries for surcease echo in your ears, the spark that sets my spirit ablaze.

Mold me, evoke the very essence of my womanhood, evoke rapture.

Every day, you’re in my thoughts, in every way,

A silent dance, between us, in the light of day.

A connection, unspoken, yet so profound,

In the quiet café, where our worlds are bound.

Dear Reader: I tried my best to be as respectful as possible, I used wordplay to hide a few uncomfortable words, I hope you see through then this poem will make sense…

All my love

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Recuperate

I have a scar upon my chest from a night I can’t forget,

He watched me bleed and said, “Blame the demons within me “

For a moment, I thanked God that glass missed my face,

And God said, “You were not meant to be in this place.”

In shame, I bowed my head, feeling the same old pain,

For love, I gave a chance, and I have never been the same.

In a room full of beautiful women, I felt the lowest of all,

For I looked over his phone and I saw that he called another “beautiful,” and that made me feel small.

“Am I missing something?” I asked, “Why doesn’t he speak to me like that, with grace?”

Thus, were born my insecurities, seeking errors when I stare into the mirror.

How did I become afraid to walk away?

I did all things right, till I lost my mind’s light,

He will not tell you I was not always this crazy.

He will not say I tried and tried until my strength was spent,

But he will tell you of my sharp words, my stubbornness, a tale he tells his friends.

And those fools never question its root, I guess misery loves company

He is the living proof.

He wont tell you how hard I tried to fight for us, but where’s my break?

I will not speak of fights in public, nor broken promises shared,

Nor tell how my feelings turned to arguments whenever I expressed them.

But I will say, my first pure love was my first mistake,

Had I known the pain, I’d have chosen to jump infront of a moving train.

Loving him was pure suicide and I did it over and over again without fail

Now I look back and can’t believe what I allowed,

How could I not love myself enough to be proud?

Why did I try to fix a man I did not create?

In trying to fix him, I broke myself by fate.

Farewell to my faith in love, my heart mourns its loss,

He buried me alive, love was the cost.

I was not perfect; I caused some pain,

I spoke harsh words, threw a punch, my faults remain.

But I never let others mock him as he let them mock me,

In my wrongs, I admit, but I did not shame him, you see.

Now healed and free, in beauty I stand,

Thankful for the lessons, I understand.

I know how deep I can love, thank you for the lesson

He who comes after you, in pursuit of my heart,

Will find me somewhat scared , yet healed and strong.

He may see me cautious, slow to fall in love,

But in every way, I’ve grown and moved along.

I am not the woman I once was; I am an upgraded version,

The other day, someone said I seemed different, and he was right…

Love happens, hurt happens too…but we recuperate

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Don’t Fall in Love with Me

Hear me out.

I am not the one to fall in love with if you don’t want me calling you just because. I want to hear your voice during the day—on your good days or your bad days. I want to hear about it all. I want to know that you’re okay, and when you’re not okay, I want you to be able to talk to me. Pride doesn’t win here; over here, we apologize when we are wrong. Over here, we listen to understand, not just to reply. We communicate like grown adults should.

I am not the one to fall in love with if you’re still holding on to the past. Holding on to what was, just to ruin what we are trying to build? It’s either you are here fully and ready to commit, or you leave me alone. I am not your half-time or part-time. You are not going to love me while loving another, because that’s something I will never do. I am not a coward nor unfaithful. If I have decided on you, then you are my focal point.

When I am in love and I have decided on you, I want to know that you’re safe when you have somewhere to be. So call me when you get home so I may rest my mind. When I love you, I want to know what matters to you. I want to know how you want to be loved so I may love you right. I want to know what hurts you so that I don’t contribute to your misery. I want to know the things that run in your head. Where do you go when you fade away? What makes you angry? What gives you comfort? And if you don’t want a woman to explore you this way, then stay away from me. If you don’t want to be vulnerable, over here we break those walls that we have built to keep the hurt away, because they are also keeping away the joy.

Please do not even look my way if you don’t want a clingy woman. I want to live under my man’s skin. I want to squeeze myself into his DNA. I want to invade his space. I want to breathe his air. If this is a bit too much for you, then make way for someone who will. Do not suffocate me with that nonchalant business. If you don’t want a woman who shows up, who hugs you from behind, who wants to look into your eyes, who wants to be surrounded by your scent, then I am not yours.

I am honestly a bad girlfriend. I want to do things that this generation finds awkward. I want to send my partner my favorite songs. I want to write him poems. I want to buy him something just because he mentioned that he likes it. I want to give my time and energy and love him without fear and hesitation. I want him to be himself. But it seems everyone wants painful love—the kind that claims to love you and three others, the one that doesn’t express yearning. I want my partner to know that I yearn for him.

Now, it takes me a while before I decide to be with someone. I peel off really slowly. I am an overthinker; therefore, I think of multiple scenarios before I decide on anyone. So if I choose you, then know that I looked at every reason not to be with you and still I overcame the fear. Instead of choosing you with my mind, I chose you with my soul. I don’t want to break my soul, so don’t bother me if love is a game to you. I don’t play with people’s hearts and their time. Yes, I am difficult to impress. I am not easily won over. I am not the kind who falls over every small gesture. I might require you to change your approach. I might require patience. I might not be able to tell you right away how I feel, but once I finally say it out loud, then you are mine. Now everything that concerns you, concerns me. What hurts you, hurts me.

Most importantly, if you don’t believe that Jesus is Lord, if you don’t want a relationship with God, if you don’t pray, if you don’t love your Redeemer and seek Him in everything, then leave me alone. Because here we pray and fast, here we break and loose, demons are cast out, and evil is destroyed. Don’t desire me if you don’t desire God. You are going to hurt me, and I don’t want to be hurt.

So please, don’t fall in love with me.

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The Best Place to Be: In Someone’s Prayers (or Grandma’s Bed)

As a teenager, one of my favorite things was sleeping in the same bed as my grandmother. She had the softest brown skin, the coziest warm feet, and a scent that was pure comfort. My grandma was a stunner with legs for days, and I’m pretty sure we inherited her tiny feet. But beyond her looks, she was a prayer warrior—always sending up petitions like she had God on speed dial.

One unforgettable Saturday morning, around 12 am, I got a call from my teenage boyfriend. We were both in Grade 12 and using Vodacom, which meant we had 60 glorious minutes of free talk time from midnight to 5 am. Naturally, we stretched it to two hours. Now, you might be thinking, “Seriously? Talking to your boyfriend while your grandma is right there?!” Well, let me explain. We spoke in English because my grandma didn’t understand it, and in my teenage wisdom, I was convinced she was fast asleep.

Fast forward to the next morning, and I wake up to my grandmother passionately praying against what she thought was a demon tormenting me at night. Yep, she thought I was conversing with an evil spirit. Back then, phone speakers were horrible, you would peak in anyone’s conversation, and speaking in English didn’t help either. She was there, intensely asking for this “demon” to leave me alone. Eventually, that “demon” did leave. He found a girl who was the opposite of me. High school can be brutal, but our breakup was surprisingly clean and drama-free. Coincidence? I think not.

These days, people crave being the talk of the town, trending on social media, or mingling with the wealthy and influential. They’ll bend over backward to fit into popular circles, all for recognition, but it’s a never-ending chase that leaves them empty like a politician’s promise.

I’ve learned that when someone prays for you, it’s the ultimate act of love. They take precious time to bring your name before God, setting aside their own needs to ask for your protection. If you have someone who prays for you, consider yourself blessed. Walk like royalty, knowing that you’re backed by heavenly forces.

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Two months, one week, five days, ten hours, forty-two minutes, and three seconds

This morning, I woke up to the sweet serenade of my favourite tunes, like a symphony in my sleepy head. As I brushed my hair, trying to tame the wild beast atop my head, I laid my edges with the precision of an artist. Moisturising my body and spraying my mist on this chocolate skin, I smell good, if I should say so myself, I felt like I was ready to take on the world, even if it still made no sense. Somehow, amidst the chaos, I was okay..

I reached for my trusty red lipstick, the one that never lets me down, and applied it with a flourish. A dash of eyeliner followed, and sunscreen, my skin now glows like a goddess’s. Makeup couldn’t do much more—how do you improve on perfection, right? I stepped out of my apartment feeling like a princess, ready to conquer my kingdom.

My outfit, of course, was a disaster. It was miles away from the vision I had in my head. But no panic! I swiftly found a replacement. Lately, no matter what I wear, I felt like a rockstar on stage. A dangerous woman reborn, life lately is something of a wonder.

Normally, my phone would sit ignored, gathering digital dust. Same notifications, same old chats. Waking up to my alarm felt like an insult to my very soul. I am not a morning person. But for the past two months, one week, five days, ten hours, forty-two minutes, and three seconds (not that I’m counting), I’ve been waking up excited, eager to read your messages. Your consistency is like my morning double espresso, a jolt of happiness.

Reality can be a nightmare—too many tasks, too little time. I often find myself staring into space, praying for a miracle or at least the strength to tackle another day. Things have changed. You called me at one pm, asking about the meeting I was dreading—the one you assured me I’d ace. I wish I could see myself through your eyes, to understand why you have so much faith in me.

Weekends used to be the worst—a reminder of time slipping away. Sunday afternoons were particularly brutal, echoing with what I didn’t have. But last Sunday, you suggested we spend time at my favourite place. Usually, I’d brush off such suggestions, feeling like my tastes were too odd. But with you, I felt safe enough to share, and you received it with grace. You made me feel like I make sense.

The world once seemed cold and harsh, filled with war, hunger, and pain. The future felt like a monster under the bed. But now, with you, life doesn’t seem so terrifying. I look forward to the future in anticipation. You speak of it so beautifully, and when you talk about me, it’s with a care that makes me believe I can handle anything.

Two months, one week, five days, ten hours, forty-two minutes, and three seconds in, and you haven’t changed. You still reply while I’m still typing, still answer my calls with that same loving tone. You still pull out the chair for me, laugh at my half-finished jokes, and listen to my crazy thoughts, calling them beautiful…you say I am beautiful, you notice my brown eyes, you love the perfume I wear, you love the way I smile and you’re not afraid to admit how you feel, you’re not a slave to pride.

You’re like a holiday, an escape from my unspoken sorrows. Patient and kind, you venture into my darkest places when I feel cold inside. You hold me tight until I’m ready to face the world again, gently bringing me back to life.

For two months, one week, five days, ten hours, forty-two minutes, and three seconds, I have not been the same. My days are brighter, my nights warmer. You did this to me. (Dear Reader, before your thoughts wander off, no! this is just a piece, its not related to anything happening in my life or anyone, I REPEAT, ITS JUST A PIECE)