Skip to main content

The New Normal.



Times have changed
Tide has turned
Corona disrupted
The semblance of order we had.

Its Sunday
Seems like every other day now
Grandma is not cooking her signature jollof
Sunday special.
Probably because she cooked it the day before.

Its Sunday
Grandpa is sending broadcasts
He hasn't been to church in a while.
I miss seeing him in his white garments
Returning by 6pm.

Its Sunday
Its 9am
We are not in a frenzy,
Hurrying one another
No last minute preparations.

We are gathered in front of the laptop
Streaming Daddy G.O live
Baba Adeboye with the word for the season.
Gods' servant, who serves us too,
Gods' word undiluted and pure.

Its Sunday
No sunday finery.
No visitors.
It's like every other day,
It's our new normal.
Labels:

Comments

  1. AlexMay 17, 2020 at 12:48 PM

    Aptly captured. It's like groundhog Day. We just repeat the same day over and over

    ReplyDelete
  2. Temilade AduMay 17, 2020 at 3:09 PM

    Exactly!!!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Grief.

Every Saturday Even on Sunday I think of that day A day of pain, And unbearable grief. And hollowness I lost a dear one. One of the realest friends I have. Always holding my hand Advising me as a sage would. Praying over me like a mother. When pain overwhelmed me When grief overshadowed me When I questioned God why. I tried to understand. I couldn't fathom it. She loved God, was hopeful about her future. We had plans. She was young It wasn't time She wanted to get married, have kids. She has loved ones. She worshipped God with her whole being. Like with tears running down her face, and a smile on her face and speech that could only be a result of a deep communion with God. Her presence calmed me. Her words uplifting. Covering me. A shield by exercising faith and praying. I am consoled because she has gone to rest. I smile because she would now worship God till eternity. I have hope because we will see ourselves again someday in Heaven. I a...
13 comments
Read more

I Did Not Kill My Mother!!!

'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...
5 comments
Read more

ENOUGH!!!

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 ...
1 comment
Read more