“Hot water burns and cold water freezes, Omobirin, my child, never trade who you are for anything else in this world. ”

These were your last words.

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“Omobirin, stars shine and rain falls but in a world filled with a thousand billion creatures, you, my child are one of a kind.

You are special, like rainfall in a desert. Your very presence lights up the world.”

These were your final lullaby.

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“Omobirin, my child, learn to stay square even in a round world, to wear your scars like a trophy and never forget that you are beautiful just the way you are.”

Like gentle breeze these words were kisses to my cheek….

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Omobirin, A Soldier’s Child

#His_Storyteller. #Stay Inspired.

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A Letter To My Past.

Dear me,

I would have asked how we are doing, but then again I already know the answer. I really wish you get to see this letter because it contains all the explanations we once asked for and the answers to the thousands of whys we once asked with tears in our eyes.

Do you remember the first time we ever prayed to God for something, how we made a thousand vows and even promised him that we would never ever sin again if only our prayers were answered. How we waited with fingers crossed for our answers, like an expectant mother we waited anxiously for answers, answers that never came.

I still remember us staring from that tiny square window in our room each and every day as we watched the sun rise and set, moons come and go, sometimes in halves and sometimes in full while our answers still remained nowhere to be found and as days faded to night, so did our faith in God fade too.

The numerous questions we sometimes asked ourselves whenever life took its turn on us, when the sun battered us from above and the cold drops of rain didn’t give us any form of happiness. Staring at the white ceiling and its brown robe of cobwebs it wore as our wounded mind wondered and wandered, does God even exist? If he did where was he? Could he even see us? I thought they said he was good and kind, a lover of children, if so why does it seem like he hates me?…….does God even exist? If He does, why can’t he see me? The twenty questions we asked, questions whose answers never came.

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I still remember that hot afternoon we cried under that dark staircase, the day when unlike Job, we cursed God and dared Him to do His worst, to take our life if He pleased, after all He never gave us much to live for anyway. The day we cried, biting one finger and pointing another at God, we called Him wicked, heartless, unfair and unjust, we even called Him foolish as we waited for Him to do His worse. Compassionate indeed.

We always thought He was never there, when we cried over our addictions and pain, when our hungry stomach growled and our weak body nearly gave up. When we cried watching mama fall sick, when our heart raced at the sight of the landlord and when we were chased from school for lack of school fees only to meet an empty pot in the kitchen. When mama and papa had to work twice as hard because of us and as they tried hard to hide their stress and tiredness while it slowly killed them, not knowing that we noticed and so did the sight also slowly make us die inside. And our conclusion was that God was either wicked or He didn’t exist.

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Little did we know how wrong we were, oh how so wrong we were. You see, all along He was there, He never left. Through the tears and the pain, He was there. And while we were busying cursing Him, He was busy mixing our tears with His, slowly arranging back our broken pieces like a builder. He was building our future, He called us His masterpiece. If only we knew the frequent cold chills we felt running down our spins and the sudden quietness in our stormy heart all those years were actually Him hugging us and gently whispering His words of peace into our ears.

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Dear me, If you are reading this, I really wish you could see us now, the person we turned out to be. I wish you could see what He did with our pains, our anger and addictions, how He breathed His breath on them too and turned them to gifts, he changed their names, now anger is called love and pain called joy. Our addictions are now called testimonies used to encourage others.

So in conclusion, I know you may still be busy burying your head under your soaked pillow dripping with your tears, feeling empty and alone but I want you to know that He is here and there too, please stop for a second and feel His arms around you, He promised not to leave us nor forsake us, He never breaks a promise, please listen to Him, He loves us, He wants to help us, please give Him a chance, please open our heart. Please listen.


#His_Storyteller. #Stay Inspired.

Hope: She Keeps The World Alive

Menh, I just want to be a source of inspiration to somebody. I want someone to look back and say, “damn, you are the reason I did not quit”. I just want to breathe the same breath that Yahweh breathed into my lungs that gave me life into the lungs of this dying world too.

I care too much about you to watch you quit

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Today, I saw a woman who I had encouraged a while back to send her kids back to school after keeping them at home and hawking for months. I had promised to do something about their school fees. Anything I could.

But you see, after the Jesus to the streets campaign, I had nothing else to give (except socks and writing accessories but no physical cash) .

Today she reminded me of my promise. She had a suckling child in her bosom and now I’m scared that dashing her hope would send her four kids back to the streets where hope picked them up from. I’m scared that the little child she carried may just end up knowing the meaning of the word “hopelessness” even before he gets to say “ma ma “.

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The Sponsor A Child Campaign is still on. It’s only a few weeks till this term’s examination begins and some schools have started chasing students from schools.

Please let’s do our best to keep these kids in school. Let us be able to look back at our world years from now and be able to say, “at least I tried to make the world a better place “. Let’s do what Gods do.

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•Sponsor A Child Campaign.

Feel free to message me for more details or call me on 09056537145 for support/ sponsorship.

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#His_Storyteller. #Stay Inspired.

It Sounded Something Like Love.

It Sounded Something Like Love.


The first time I saw your face, you had this look in your eyes that sparkled whenever I smiled, the details in your voice whenever you spoke to me was a perfect blend of joy and care sprinkled with a dust of happiness.

It was there, in the way you laughed when I giggled and smiled when I smiled. I saw the pain in your eyes even when I was the one lying sick on the bed, I heard the fear in your voice when I lost my appetite and you had to beg me to eat. It’s the same sound I hear whenever you say, “I will never bury my children but rather my children will be the ones to bury me” and even then when I was a baby and the only words I ever knew and understood were ‘gaga bubu ‘ and then you whispered those words into my tiny ears, even though I never really understood them, I knew it sounded something like love.

It sounded something like love the first time I saw your face, the thousands of sweat droplets that danced all over my body as my heart raced faster than a horse while I summoned the courage just to say ‘hi’. I saw it every step of the way as I watched our friendship bloom into something deeper and in the way I grew even more excited to see your face every single day. It had always been there, in the excitement in your voice when you spoke to me and the joy on my inside when I heard it, how your voice was the first I wanted to hear every morning and how your smile was like sunshine after the rain.

I heard it in your voice and the way you said ‘I do’, I saw the sincerity in your eyes as it was clothed in drops of tears that sealed our vows. I hear it every single day, in the way birds sings whenever I think of you and how the moon grow brighter whenever the thought of us runs through my mind and whenever you say ‘I love you’, I swear my heart jumps to orbit and back, dancing to a rhythm that sounds something like love.

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I saw it again in your eyes as I welcomed you to a new world and I heard it in your voice when you gave your first cry. It’s sweet refreshing feeling filled the air and as the doctor said ‘congratulations, you are now at father’s it moved me to tears. It drummed to the tone of your giggles and whenever you are sad, the sound fades too.
The sound of love, it is everywhere, in the peaceful way you sleep in my arms, in the golden droplets of the morning sun and how it kisses your face, I heard it the day you said ‘da da ‘ your first words and I see it in the way you smile every single day.

The sound of love, it is everywhere, in the hope seen in a brand new day and in the peace that comes with the quietness of the night, in the eyes of lovers and in the discipline of a father, in the grey hair of the elderly and in the smiles of a child. It is in the love of God and in the peace in His word, it’s everywhere all you have to do is listen.

#His_Storyteller.

Let’s Be Gods

Let’s Be Gods.

Growing up, mother always told me that the world suffers not from the actions of bad people but from the silence of the good ones.

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Sometimes, I’ve had reasons to wonder, you know, ask God questions. Why do bad things happen to good people?? Why is the world just not fair?? Sometimes I get answers, sometimes I don’t. Like screaming into the night, all I hear are echoes of the questions I just asked.

“God, we need a miracle. Can’t you see that the world needs you now more than ever before??”

Often times, it seems like my mind is never enough. They don’t seem to be anymore rooms for these questions that keeps on popping in my head.

Maybe God is silent for a reason, maybe there is a lesson to all these. (I dare not say that God doesn’t care. I know Him too well).

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But what if they die before the miracle comes?? God, why can’t you just save them now?? Why do bad things happen to good people??

Still all I hear is silence and more silence. I can feel this ripple of pain and confusion all over me. This is not a good feeling.

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Then in the midst of the silence, I heard it and in the midst of the darkness, I see light. It glowed in their eyes as those naira notes hit their bowls. I hear it in their voices when a beautiful soul that cares ask how they doing. It’s there when they say “thank you” to that single act of random kindness.

It’s like the rich man and Lazarus all over again but this time the rich man is me, but this time the rich man is you.

I hear God whispering, “You are the miracle. You are hope. Ye are gods “.

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No more asking for miracles, it’s time for us to be the miracle. Let the love of God radiate through us, let it overflow to others. Let them see the halo of hope in our eyes, let it reflect in their eyes too. The Bible says “ye are gods “, come-on let’s go do what Gods do.

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Let’s be Gods ( Be•The•Miracle)

#His_Storyteller. #Stay Inspired

Nature’s Eyes

Good morning Jesus
Good morning Lord
I know you come from heaven above
Good morning Jesus. Good morning lord.
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God is smiling on us guys, God is smiling.

Morning glory• Nature’s eyes

#His_Storyteller. #Stay Inspired.

Nature Is Beautiful

Okay, I admit it. Maybe I’m a little obsessed with nature but I mean after gazing upon this beauty, who wouldn’t??

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I shot this on my way back from work one day and trust me, I didn’t add any color effect.

It’s like nature is taunting me, teasing me, enticing me. Like a newly wedded bride, she ignites the fire of my creativity in places I never even knew could burn. Like sweet wine, she intoxicates me into doing things I never thought I could.

Just imagine, I sold my last phone of less than six months just to buy a new one with a better camera just so I could get more of her but still it’s not enough.

I’m cursed with a never ending taste of her beauty. Yahweh’s glory.

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I could go on and on talking about you. Little wonder why Yahweh called you “good”, of course you must be beautiful, every piece made by the master is definitely a masterpiece.

You haunt me with feelings of heaven, my forever home. When I get to heaven, I would be sure to thank Yahweh for the beauty that is you.

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Nature is Yahweh’s smile• infinix phonographer

•My Nature _ My Muse

#His_Storyteller. #Stay Inspired.

Joy. Hope. And. Everything. In. Between 



Mama always told me that there would be days when I would have to learn to draw happiness from within, days when I  shouldn’t have to wait for joy to come in the morning, days when I should consciously decide to listen to the echoes of hope even in the silence of the night. 
“Learn to count your blessings with each twinkling star of the night. Learn to whisper to your own ears the words that gives you joy and even when your eyes are wet and your pockets dry, always remember to keep hope alive. 
Learn to find your own rhythm, to beat Your Own drums and dance to it. Learn to whistle even in the midst of pain and never outgrow your inner child ” she said. 
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Father always taught me never to draw my joy from the morning sun, to learn to dance in the rain and sail on storms till the rainbow comes. 
“My son, never build your joy around material things” he said, everything fades, everything vanishes,  everything dies, so if you are ever going to hope at all, then hope in the one thing that never fades, never dies and never leaves, God. These were his words. 
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Father always told me to count my blessings, he said in them lies all the joy I seek. “Always be grateful for every breath  you take because where there is life, hope is just two steps ahead” these were his words. 
Joy. hope. and. everything. in. between 

 /Late Night Muse/

#His_Storyteller.  #Stay Inspired. 

Me vs me 


Me vs Me

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Here comes the old man once again. I told you he would be back, didn’t I?
I saw the look in her eyes, I knew the joy was temporal and that smile wouldn’t last much longer. You said she had formed peace, that she is free indeed but didn’t I tell you that I knew her too well and that the voices in her head would never let her enjoy her peace in peace??
Here comes the old man, I told you he would be back, didn’t I?? 

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Here comes the old man, I can see him slowly eating her up. Just yesterday, I saw her stare into the mirror for a while and then walked away. I saw the look in her eyes, the scales are coming back on, she is starting to hate herself once again. 
She hasn’t danced in two days, she cried herself to sleep yesterday and she can’t even explained why the songs in her heart has suddenly stopped playing. For some strange reason, she feels like ending her life, the World seems to be perfect without her, like she is the only imperfect “thing” in such a perfectly perfect world. 
Here comes the old man, I told you he would be back, didn’t I? I saw the look in her eyes, I knew the joy was temporal and that smile wouldn’t last much longer. 
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#Dear you, don’t give up just yet. God doesn’t give temporal things, whatever He does is forever including the joy you once received. Read your Bible, there is medicine in there, listen to things that edifies, there are treasures there too. 
Please do not allow the devil deceive and play tricks with your mind, the old man is gone and gone forever, he is not coming back. Download good gospel songs (maybe try Frank Edwards) then dance and dance until your mind and heart gets back in place. And above all, never ever forget that You Are Loved. 


Me vs Me|The Old Man, is he ever coming back| You Are Loved| 
#His_Storyteller.   #Stay Inspired.

Òmọbinrin : Letter To My Unborn Daughter 

Òmọbinrin

 


My love, my child, my Eve, birthed from the inside of me, from love, true love. My daughter, my joy. 

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Òmọbinrin

I have a lot to say to you, things I wish I could tell. I wish I could tell you that I love you, I wish I could tell you that don’t ever have to do anything to impress me, that right from your mother’s womb, I was proud of you already.
I wish I could tell you of the joy you bring, that you make me happy and the thought of your laughter causes me to laugh. 

I wish I could tell you that in your eyes I see heaven and that in a world filled with hate and anger and range and pain but in the whispers of your tiny little heartbeat, there I find strength to fight back because there I hear the sound of love and love conquers all. 

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Òmọbinrin

I wish I could tell you to never change who you are for anything or anyone, that unique creatures like you should never conform to the image of men, that you are beautiful just the way you are.
I wish I could tell you that you are as amazing as creation itself and that you shine brighter than the stars. I wish I could tell you that the reason why the heavens roar so loudly is because they miss you so much and that the flashes of light you see whenever it wants to rain is not just mere lightening but flashes from heaven’s camera as they try to take pictures of your beauty and paste it on heavens gate.

I wish I could tell you a thousand times of how much you are loved.  

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Òmọbinrin.

My daughter, like diamonds in the sky and like the crowns on the head of heaven’s elders, so is your worth. You are priceless, far more valuable than rubies and don’t ever let any man tell you otherwise. 

I wish I could tell you that any man that wins your heart is more than lucky because he has won heaven’s heart too. I wish I could tell you to be observant and selective of the friends you choose, that forever is such a long time to spend with the wrong man. 

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Òmọbinrin

My jewel, I wish I could tell you that daddy would always be there for you, to fight for your right till there is nothing left. I wish I could tell of not just how much I love you but how much Jesus loves you too. 
I wish… I really wish I could whisper these and much more into your little ears but then I remember that you have not even been born yet, so I would just write my heart out in this journal and hope that when the time is right you would read them to not only yourself and your daughters too. Your own personal lullaby. 

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Òmọbinrin | Letter to my unborn daughter | Day of the Girl Child

#His_Storyteller.   #Stay Inspired.