I am so candid

On the 13th of March, after church, we held hands and prayed.  The week before 13th, I got the instruction in Church that we should always pray when we get home after service. So that's where this after church prayer originated from. Back to 13th of March, my 6 year old son went first. He prayed beautifully if there is anything like that. He thanked God using clear and meaningful words, to be honest it was better than the way his brother prayed. Even though after his prayer, he started kicking his brother but at least we got that win.  I believe one of the reasons this was possible was because of an earlier instruction I obeyed in the last quarter of 2022. The Holy Spirit told me,  "Take my children to church". "The boys need to start going to church". Ah tor. The die is cast.  For the past 9 years that I have worked shift, going to church for me hasn't been consistent. I had sunday off days once in 6 weeks. I am either working morning or afterno

'So my children can not kill me' I don't know whose Mum never said this. It's even sweeter when its said in Yoruba. For real though! That's how I felt tonight. This post is a testimony and a recount of the antics of Mr 4. If 'Drive' was a person, it would bear his name. Or even 'Persistence'. Photo credit @pexels.com Some mornings ago, I told the boys if they follow me to the bathroom immediately, I will let them watch something on my phone for a bit. Even though I was still pressing my phone and not ready to get up. This is a tactic that always works and allows me have peace for a bit. Lol. Judge not! We all have days like this. Before long we noticed Mr 4 was no longer in the room, we found him in the bathroom already with his bathing bowl, sponge and soap making a lather and splashing suds everywhere. Fast forward to last night, hubby went out and brought suya along. I don't remember telling this boy anything about bath

Enough! Of taking from us forcefully Enough! Of trying to silence us Enough! Of trying to make us the victims Enough of turning the tables when we cry out. When we walk the streets at night We have to look over our shoulder When we are in our hotel rooms We have to be wary of intruders When we voice out We are silenced forcefully. Enough of raping us women! Enough of sexist comments! Enough of lecherous lecturers! Enough of wolves in sheep clothing! Enough of shaming the victim. We are tired of being intimidated to silence We are tired of feeling unsafe where we should be safe We are tired of second guessing ourselves We are tired of being misunderstood We are tired of a system that enables you We are tired of being RAPED!!! My thoughts are all over the place and I know I had to express myself in the best way I know how to. My heart is heavy and the pain of what we go through cannot be ignored any longer. I sincerely hope our voices will continue to

"You can start right where you stand and apply the habit of going the extra mile by rendering more service and better service than you are now being paid for".  Napoleon Hill. I love reading. Most of the people that know me can attest to this. You can be sure to find my nose buried in a book even right from the time I was really young.(Well, really young, because I am not old old right now) 😁😁 And as such, I was one of the happiest people when digital publishing became a thing and e- books were no longer an elite privilege. Years ago there came a new player on the scene, now currently one of the foremost digital publishers in Africa. As a matter of fact, this app was the next best thing since sliced bread that year. The app was available on android and coming soon for IOS and that was the issh Fam. I could read all I want via my mobile phone and on the go. You can imagine my obvious excitement. I was in ninth heaven.  The most interesting part was the plethora o

Today is Date night with the absolute love of my life and I am so excited. It's been a while we went out alone what with having two kids and no help, its being mission impossible but this weekend my sister is home from Uni and she looks forward to spending time with the kids. By 4pm I had completed all my tasks for the day at work and I was packed and ready to go. I was even contemplating going to meet my line manager if I could be allowed to leave 1 hour early 😂😂. We were going to this restaurant I and hubby had heard so much about from our friends and I wanted to take my time so I could look my best. Femi one of hubby's friends had gone to celebrate his girlfriends birthday there and he had only good things to say about them. Meanwhile the girlfriend turned fiance that night with a dazzling huge rock on her finger. Femis' fiance told her sisters about the oh so amazing place where she was proposed to and so they planned a family dinner, needless to say their experience

'Amen' 'Amen' 'Amen' My then two year old now five was saying Amen in response to my prayers. But the most surprising thing is, I wasnt praying in actual words. I was speaking in other tongues and we were in the bathroom. So it wasn't like I was alone somewhere in prayer mode. I was shocked to say the least.  PRESENT DAY 'Mum are you praying'?  'Yes I am'  'Can you teach me how to pray like that'? I was taken aback again but I said yes then proceeded to lay my hand on his head and pray for him to receive the power of the Holy Ghost with evidence of speaking in tongues. I am sure you are wondering why I would do that and how did I think a 5 year old will be able to speak in tongues? I don't know how too, but mine is to obey, because the Bible says out of the mouth of babes and sucklings, God has perfected praise. In this journey of intentional parenting, I have learnt to take advantage of the seemingly innocent and care