poems, short stories, faith.

I remember passing the freedom field And seeing old men, With their teeth missing Eyes missing Limb missing Looking like skeletons of their past self that was never allowed to bloom They sat in a perfect row Like there was a chain holding them in place And a master whipper, Waiting for someone to step out of line so he can whip them back into place But there was no chain And there was no master whipper But they were like slaves still under the master, In the state of freedom they were still being held in place by ideologies of the past never letting themselves taking a breath the whip, tho still gone, still has a hold over them. so they pass their fear to their young ones, tell them what road to take to avoid the whip, how to dress to avoid the stares what to say when to laugh and when to cry and then they became the whip holding the young ones in their chains never let them see what life was before the whip they label...

Running   The most I could do was run The least I could do was run The only thing I do well is run. Ever since she shouted at me to run With a machete hanging over her head, The only thing I've done since then was run, Even when I met the man, Who promised to help me stop running I ran Even with arms stretched out, and tears streaming down his face, I ran, Because He was too good to be true, Like a fairy-tale But fairy tales do not exist, So I’m running, With fear for the one with the machete And unbelief from the one who promised me Heaven.

Every morning I wake up, The most important decision I have to make is; To talk or not to talk? I mean, Everyone says put yourself out there, No one will know you if you don’t put yourself out. And that’s quite true. What’s also true for me is, By putting myself out there, I put myself in the danger of being misunderstood and making blunders. So every morning I wake up, I have to decide which will work better for me. Every morning, In making a decision to talk, I have to be prepared for the embarrassments that come with it. And I have to start obsessing about it . You see, I love talking with people and making friends. But, you also see, Before talking to someone, I ask myself a trillion questions, Sometimes and most times, I convince myself meeting people is not worth it, I mean, have you met me!? I’m good enough on my own, (But Then, am I?) My inner voice has become more of a monster, Too notorious to be drowned by any ...

My name is Enitan and rightly named so. My whole life is a storybook filled with so many memories. My earliest memory was in my mother’s womb, I was eight months, I remember hearing voices of conflicts outside the wall, I remember at those times, I’ll kick the walls in anger because I wanted my peace.  For starters, I never wanted to do this earth journey; I was enjoying my time with Eledumare and the elders until it was my turn. I begged the elders to plead my case with Eledumare but they all refused. So they sent a once upon a time happy child to this corrupt and evil-infested world and I became an angry child. Why I was sent to a poor man’s house of all the places on this earth is one thing I’ll never understand. When I asked Him, he said my purpose was to bring happiness. He didn’t even have to send me to planet earth you know, because there are other planets where the citizens are happy, everybody lives in peace, no one is too stupid to be deliberate in des...