They were...

That day,she couldn't wait...

She had a scar but she cared less

She didn't know what she was feeling

She ran like she would never fall

Through the thick crowd she swept...

Only God knew how anxious she was

She was in green 

He wore blue...

Their love drew them close

She lifted her eyes and saw Him descend....

Her heart beat without pause

She could feel blood rushing through her veins

And shyness like veil enveloped her

He sat beside her smiling slowly....

Her eyes low but bright waited for His to drift that way

Then She peeped and locked gaze with Him...

A smile escaped her lips and He smiled

They were together....

The day was long but it felt short

The sun shining and the sea at its best...

They sat looking at everything but they watched one another

Their eyes spoke more than their lips could say...

Their hearts brought them together

He stood,held out his hand

She stood, took his hand...

And the magic was there

The sky was blue,shining bright on 'er skin

Slowly,innocent strides down the shore we see

The waves beautiful,the sand free on 'er feet

Leurs coeurs en liberté...

The breeze so cold,She shivers

He gives her warmth in his embrace....

He tells her how much he has waited...

She says elle l'a attendu

They listened to beats from each's heart...

Their deaf ears to intruders...

They were locked one to one

He loved her, She was in love...

They were to be and they are...

Musings of the Heart

It beats..
It knows when I am sad..

When joy comes, it celebrates with me

I thought I could hide my pain..
But the beating is strained..
Then pleasure appears and the thudding quickens..

It has no voice
It can't speak
But it says a lot about me..

When hate invades me
Sweat patches appear on my face..
Because it knows and beats in chops..

Then I meet you..
And You meet me..
We meet us..

We are excited ..
You are in love ..
I feel loved..

It beats with rhythm..
The rhythm rushes your blood..
My face lights up

And your eyes reflect Love
For the Heart may be inaudible
But it speaks volume in its musings...

The Broken Vase

One day , I bought a vase
As I was entering my room with it, 
It fell and broke into pieces...
Sadness enveloped me like a garment..
I had taken time to save towards it

And my heart was broken for a long time..

Sometime later, I bought another one..
It was more beautiful than the first.
I handled it with so much care...
I secured a safe spot for it in the living room..
Days passed..
Weeks followed
And it was time for a cleanup in the whole house..

Oh my! The vase crushed as
I slipped and kicked its stand...
My beloved vase is broken again
And the best I did was blame myself...

Buying a new vase was erased from my plans...

Months took memories of my broken vases with them...

That day, a bright and beautiful day,
I took a walk downtown
As my croaky voice sung along with the silky voice in my earphones..

It caught my eyes...
Two steps back I took and it was right there staring at me
Well polished but mildly schemed in colour...
Its shape was unique and is still unique...

Till now, it is my vase ...
Because I now know what my vase needs..
My special Survivor Vase!!!





"You may lose several chances, you may be disappointed severally, you may lose a lot of friendships or even suffer scorn and hatred from people you least expect it from but never forget those are not reason for you to give up. It should not deter you from being the wonderful person you are. The worst you can do to yourself is breed hurt and hatred in your heart because someone treated you bad. 
It is actually time to look at the bright side of issues and know that whatever you lose is either not meant for you at all or at that moment. Every delay is meant to prepare and teach you how to handle your future successes..
So Free your mind and be Happy...As difficult as it may be, smile when you are punched in the face by negativity and the smile will grow wider when you meet the Positives"

Your Survivor Vase is just around the corner!


                                                                                    

When the "Daddy" is missing...

For a very long time, I had subscribed to the belief that our fathers do not need to be celebrated as much as our mothers, though somewhere in my heart, I knew fathers are as important as mothers.

Most of us who lose our fathers very early can attest to the fact that though our mothers do everything to make up for the absence of our fathers, there is a still some hunger for the physical presence of a father.

In my own case, there were countless times when I would ask why my father did not stay long enough for me to know how he would look when scolding me or striking my palms with a cane, when I go wrong. I would wish our dove-catching fun times together  never ended. 

The days I would sit in his laps struggling to run my fingers through his beard before he shaved it off are but memories that still linger.

After being bullied or teased by friends and classmates, I would sit quietly wishing I had my tall, strong and handsome daddy to run to with my complaint. But those wishes were never horses I could ride and with time, I started growing out of my “wishy-wishy dress”. The reality dawned on me that daddy will never come and I had better grow up.

My mother, like most widows played the role of the father so well that we (my brothers and I) forgot that there was need for a male parent and I say kudos to her for that. With time, I cared less when others talked about how wonderful their fathers were and what their fathers’ reaction would be towards something they did or did not do. I was gradually becoming a “mini” feminist. Though I had brothers, I didn’t really believe that the presence of a man was needed in running a family until my brother I was living with moved to another city. 

He was and is still my father as I usually call him “daddy”. A few days after he left, it hit me hard that a vacuum has been created and that was when the wishing began again. I realised that enjoying fatherly love is also one special feeling on its own.

Before I decided to write this post, I put together some observations I made apart from my own personal feelings about The Father Factor. From my family, my neighbours, to the street, to the bus, to the office, to church, to my friends’ homes I have gathered a lot.

 Let’s look at what the Bible says about being a Father? Going through the Bible, I would want to dwell on Ephesians 6:4, which says: “Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord” To me, this is an all-inclusive instruction to fathers touching on the negative and the positive.

First, it warns fathers not to “provoke” their children. What does this mean?
It simply means that Fathers should not and must not foster negativity in their children though unreasonable display of authority, irresponsibility, partiality, cruelty, unexemplary habits or lifestyles and most of all, violence towards the mothers of their children. It again says that fathers should not incite negative attitudes in their children as actions usually attract reactions. Why do I say this? Fathers who usually shout at or beat up their kids mercilessly at the least misbehaviour or mistake breed some kind of hatred in the hearts of these kids. As the kid grows, he tends to either bully others or disrespect and talk back to elderly people including his father, though in a few cases too, such a child will grow up timid and have low self esteem.

Now the positive side of the Bible verse, “but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord”, simply tells fathers to admonish, educate, discipline or rebuke constructively, encourage and train their children using the principles of the word of God.  Love being the ultimate should never be absent in a father’s dealings with his kids. They should patiently and objectively correct their children, when they go wayward. A father’s conduct should give cause to his children wanting to be with him and be like him (Good Role Modelling). 

For a while now, I have been paying keen attention to the relationship between fathers and their kids, especially the reaction of the kids at the sight of their fathers or when they are together. It is so interesting the different reactions I see. From the undesirable to the most adorable and lovely one, all I could do was smile.

In the world of the most adorable as I put it, some fathers would have to struggle with their kids every day before they leave home for work because the kids won’t let them out of their sight. They would scream so hard that even their fathers found it difficult to leave and when they finally step out of the house, you would see “frustration” written all over their faces. They would miss their little ones when they are out there at work.
On days when father and child get to spend time together, child would be all over daddy’s laps and ask endless questions. Some of which daddy can answer and for others, he’d have to forge answers. One can see the display of in-depth love and joy as the child flashes his or her tiny teeth with giggles and smiles. 
On the bus and in the church, daddy would let little one sit beside him and when it’s time for offertory, he would give the little one his or her share to offer. After stretching the little body in order to drop the offering in the bowl, the little one would come running happily to hug daddy’s legs.

The older ones would help daddy in fixing his bicycle or car or any faulty gadget, play games together or even argue over various issues especially, politics.  It is just a humbling sight when you see a child apologising to the parents after daddy had patiently pointed out his or her wrongdoings. This is the ideal relationship between a father and his family.

Now, in the world of the undesirable however, there is always tension as daddy won’t even want to carry child when he or she is crying. He would rather “roar” at his teenage child who asks him for some money to purchase books or tries to be inquisitive about something. 

The day this child mistakenly breaks something, his or her body will be redesigned with cane or belt marks. As for his wife, the mother of his children, she has no right to even defend her own child because she won’t be spared her own share of beatings when she just delays in making his meal ready. These fathers even hate it when their children offer to help them with something so he would not even create the atmosphere for conversations with his family. The effect of having such a father is quite obvious to us all. Either the cycle continues with their sons being bullies like them or timid and /or the daughters end up disliking men.

We do not need to allow the cycle of hatred and disrespect for fathers continue. Our men also have let go of the age old belief that:  “A man has to be ugly and fearful.” Look, being fearful as a man does not afford you any respect; neither does it make you more powerful. To me it shows weakness hiding behind the mask of wickedness. 

I therefore impress upon all men, young or old to work towards being a father to children, be it biological or not. Be the Father Factor to someone and most vices will be reduced in our society because love will be the basis of every child’s upbringing.


My understanding of who a FATHER should be is, He is: 

- a Protector
- a Shelter
- a Guide
- a Counsellor
- a Teacher
- a Role Model
- a Pillar of Strength
- the Spring of Love
and
- the Root of all Existence

If all Fathers will live to religiously and sincerely play the above roles as they were originally mandated, nobody will have any excuse not to appreciate them as they should and Fathers’ Day celebrations will attract more participation than before. 

STRIVE TO BE THE BEST FATHER GUYS....

 Much Love & Peace