Godly teens

Anyone who knows me well knows that I’m very big on purpose. Purpose is the reason I wake up every day, with the knowledge that there is a particular people out there who ought to benefit from God’s deposits in my life.  But guess what this lifestyle has made me discover. I’ve realized that to really fulfill purpose/destiny, you have to figure out how to hear God for yourself. Sure, we’re wired to make mistakes once in a while as we journey through life, but trust me, there are some mistakes that do not have to be made. [Like choosing the wrong career path, friendships or partner.] And the only guaranteed way to make sure that doesn’t happen is to hear God. For yourself. So maybe you’re thinking, “How do I make that happen?” Follow me. 1.          Join the family: The first step to being able to hear God is to be sure that you are born again, [and that’s just a fancy way of saying you have given your life over to Christ to not just be your Father ...

(Image from Shutterstock) I'm at the fruit woman's burial. Everyone is dancing and singing. They are all in matching attires of white and they sing and clap as they dance after her coffin: "Ile l'onlo, tarrara. Ile l'onlo..." I can't feel the happiness that they feel. I just can't.  "She lived a good life," I hear a man say behind me to his friend.  "Yes. Very very good. She was so easy going, so gentle and nice." Tears are threatening to fall from my eyes as the Holy Spirit reminds me of one solemn truth. No matter how good a life was, if it wasn't surrendered to God, it was headed for Hell. But I can't tell them this. I can't ruin their celebration.  From a distance, I watch a Priest pray over the coffin. "May her soul rest in peace." He said. Again, torrents of tears fall from my eyes. If that woman had not given her life to Christ, her soul could never rest in peace.  It was a bitter pill to swallow. Even f...

The rain is pelting down hard on the pavement outside. The colour of the sky matches my mood today as I seat on my bed staring out my bedroom window. The wind and rain bend the branches of the palm trees outside and it reminds me of why I'm here in the first place; why I'm not studying or scrolling through my phone, or at a sleepover in Kike's house.  Yesterday, a particular news knocked the life out of me and changed my mood from the colourful, rain-bowed sky it was, to one with different shades of gray.  The fruit woman down the street had died. Diabetes, they said. She was just a fruit seller to me, so I shouldn't be here grieving so hard. Not if I had obeyed the voice of God few weeks earlier. Maybe it was because she was so young, friendly and full of life, that I had delayed telling her about the burden in my heart. Five times, I had heard the Holy Spirit urge me to tell her about God and His Beloved Son, Jesus who died so that eternity in Heaven could be secured....

(Image from Flexx Mag) "Mtcthewww," Mercy hissed at her phone screen where a news headline informed her about the elongation of the strike. "These people are using us to play football and they think it's funny." Frustration surged through her and she was not sure who to blame for her predicament. The federal government or the academic staff union of universities. She had spent six years doing a five year course, and these people were still not merciful enough to reach an agreement. "God, these people are delaying my future!" She groaned in anger. "My mates are already working and building the life of their dreams, and here I am, a victim of circumstances." "Who says you are?" Mercy turned her head to see her mother standing by the door of her room. She had not heard her come back from work. She sighed. "Mummy you don't understand. I feel so helpless. Nobody cares about my future in this country. Nobody." "Do you?...

Richard slid his feet into his shoes, excited about the day stretched out ahead of him. He was going to the movies to catch up with a couple of friends he had not seen since the ASUU strike started. Not that the movies was his favorite place to go or that he had particularly missed his friends. But he had heard Rachel, Mide’s cousin would be there too. He had liked the girl the first time he met her, and he felt this was going to be a good opportunity to push further with her. Besides, the outing would be a healthy distraction. His house was beginning to drive him crazy. He switched off the lights and was about to leave his room when he felt a familiar tug at his heart. He looked back, wondering what he was missing. He saw his Bible on the floor near his bed and for a second, he felt like going to pick it up and maybe say a few words of prayer to God before leaving, but time was going and he had friends to catch up with. When was the last time you caught up with Me? A voice within ...

Rose sat on her favourite chair, staring into space and feeling lost. It had been two months since the most unforgettable day of her life, where a vigil she attended had sparked a hunger in her to know God more. She had felt so fired up, so enthusiastic about the things of God, that prayer had become her habit and the Bible sweeter than sugar cookies. She remembered feeling as if fire lived in her bones, because anytime she prayed, it felt like God Himself was in the room with her. Nostalgia blanketed her. Things were no longer the same. Her story was different now. She had changed. As the table clock beside her ticked steadily, she closed her eyes and walked down memory lane. What had caused her fire to die out? How come she had not read her Bible in a long time now, and prayer had become so big of a burden? Where was the desire she had felt so strongly two months ago? As she pondered, pictures of yesterday began to waltz through her mind. She remembered how two weeks after the vigil,...

The military man shoved him into the dark cell and locked the door. He stumbled and hit his head on a wall. It was so dark, he couldn't see anything and the pungent smell hanging in the air threatened to make him barf. How long were they going to keep him here? He slid slowly down to the floor as tears burned his eyes. What would Kike, his newly wedded wife be doing now? He hated that she had to experience his arrest, the way they had  broken into their house and arrested him like a common criminal.  "See, Mr. Mike. This matter is very simple." His captors had told him. "Stop making noise about this Jesus guy and we will let you go back to your family."  He had refused of course. How could he deny the One for whom He lived? Consequently, here he was in a prison cell, on an island he could not identify, far away from the rest of the world, maltreated, beaten and locked up. He knew what they were trying to do. After series of previous threats and arrests...