Yay. I am still alive.

"It’s all because of Jesus I'm alive

It’s all because the blood of Jesus Christ

It covers me and raises this dead man's life

It’s all because of Jesus I'm alive"

                                        - Casting crowns

Don’t fear, this blog is still a writing blog, not a religious one, but I would be the most ungrateful if I do not testify the goodness of God.

I was coming from vigil on 30th of March when my car’s electric system my battery started shutting down bit by bit. It started with the dashboard function, the window, and automatic light. I turned on the light manually, hoping that since the car had already started, it won’t stop until I turned the engine off. Later, the light started shutting down completely, the horn stopped working, locks stopped working, the whole electric system. I was driving in the dark, and my lights were out. I was like if you will die, die on the island o, not on 3rd mainland, but I am still thinking since I won’t turn it off, the engine won’t die. I got on 3rd mainland and was going, if the dashboard functions were working, I'm sure I'd have known that the car won’t get me home. Cos I must have been going at 120 but the car must have been moving at 60. You know what… the car shut down completely!... In the middle of 3rd mainland… at 5:25am. Immediately I noticed it slowing, I knew there was trouble. I moved to the slow lane and believe it or not, I kept on pressing accelerator that wasn’t responding, my foot was shaking, sweating. Panic! I thought is this where my short life will end? In the middle of 3^rd mainland bridge? Everyone jokes about being stranded on the bridge at night. Some comedians say if you are stranded on the bridge at night, you jump inside the river or lock yourself in your boot, cos it will be better than what your eyes will see. People my case was worse, it was 5.25 am. Everywhere dark, people were sleeping. Suddenly, the comedians’ jokes didn’t seem funny anymore.

In the dark, I saw smoke coming out of my car. I was like, there’s no way I am coming out of this car by this time, in the dark. The only thing that would make me come out of this car is if it goes up in flames, so I stayed put.

I called my rewire and told him wasup, and then my credit finished after like 8 seconds. The phone that had the main credit was off due to a weak battery.  I started panicking like a Christmas goat. I didn’t know who to call at that time. So I sent BBMs to like 3 church people cos I felt they would still be awake, since we left church around the same time. Only one person responded.

People I was confused. I started singing “I plead the blood the blood of Jesus.” Then I prayed a bit and spoke in tongues small, so I could build an atmosphere of worship and no attackers would come, all the while, trying to get one church person to pick my rewire and drive back to 3rd mainland. The BB battery had almost died. If it died, that was gonna be the end cos they won’t be able to reach me again. My laptop was in the boot, and I knew that whatever happens, I shouldn’t step out of the car cos I would expose myself to the attackers that might be watching. I had gone from sitting in a car to sitting in an ordinary metal box. I couldn’t put on hazard light cos the electric system was down, so all the cars that were passing would almost reach me before seeing that there’s a dead metal box on the road, since it was still dark. I am sure those cars were either coming from vigils of clubs, since it was Friday midnight into Saturday morning. It was by God’s grace that I didn’t get hit.

After a while I just stopped worshiping and kabashing. It was a panic prayer mixed with faith, but I couldn’t do panic prayer for long. It’s just not my thing. So I just asked God to take control and laid back. I knew only two things could happen, I could lose my life and/or my possessions. There was no way I could lose the car. Whatever thief wanted to steal the car would have to come to start it with his own battery first, lol. But something just kept telling me that it was not time for me to die. So that left the loss of the possessions. After I kept scolding myself for not backing up the latest piece of story I had been writing, I calmed a bit, and just kept waiting for help. It wasn’t until past 6.00 am that it occurred to me to start hiding my possessions under the car seat. I hid my wallet, kindle, the dead phone and charger, iPod. I even hid my Hollandia yoghurt. Why should the robbers get to drink the yoghurt I bought with my money? Lol

At the end, I had my mini umbrella, lip gloss, watch, pen and some pieces of papers left in my bag. If the robbers came, I will just give them the bag. The weight of the umbrella will make it seem like there’s something there. I called the Lagos state distress emergency number. An automated voice said someone would be on the line shortly, and then it cut off. This happened twice. The emergency thing is just rubbish!

I turned off Twitter and Facebook on the BB that was already almost dead. Some guy pinged me by past 6 am asking if that was my hair in the pic, saying its beautiful. I was pissed. Who pings people by 6.00 am to strike up conversation? Obviously, the lady on the BB flyer was a model. I told the guy not to ping me again cos I was stuck on the bridge, I needed the last one bar I had left I that time.

A tolling van came. I don’t know how he knew I was there. Probably the same way robbers always know too. When he realised I didn't have money, he left without a word. He didn’t even offer to take me to the end of the bridge, even though he was going that way, at least that way I would be safe from cars that couldn’t see me and robbers. He left me there alone, wickedly. His face was the only face I saw until the rewire and my friend came.

I was grateful because they must have either gone back all the way to the island to turn or passed Ikorodu road to come out of Adekunle. Either way, they took a big risk for me.

Without a word, my rewire changed the battery, drove me home and took the car to his shop. I got home, thanked God preserving my life and properties, and typed this testimony.

I thank God for everything, that I am alive. I didn’t end up as one of the 3^rd mainland bridge casualty statistics, and wicked men did not find me.

Source

The Atheist! by Atilola Moronfolu

I am happy to announce that I have started submitting some of the writing assignments you guys gave me in this post. If I haven't submitted your assignment, just know that I am either working on it, or would get to it sooner or later. But one thing is for sure, I would do it and get to you sooner than you expect. If you did not give me any assignment, and would want to add yours, please, feel free. I would really love to write for you.

When I wrote The Atheist, I had more of spoken word, rather than poetry, in mind. Reason for the long sentences and the nature. I might still change the title. If you have a title in mind, you can suggest. Thanks.

source

You called me an atheist and said I deserve a punch

Just because I highlighted the hypocrisy in the new generation church

I choose to speak against this myopic label

Cos as we know, atheism is synonymous to being a rebel

You said I look at the church with a funny philosophical light

Because I complained about the five loudspeakers blazing through my window every Friday night.

My ear drums have bursted, I can no longer hear my pastor’s sermon on Sunday morning right

Nor sing praise and worship, without my head feeling light

Should I tell you the stories of how God miraculously saved me from the throes of death

Or how he lifted me on high and made my enemies fret

Are you with me when I cry out in worship and praise every morning and night

Do you ever wonder how come I spit Isaiah 60 like fire and rhyme it tight

Oooh oohh, I guess you thought my sudden upliftment was by the works of my hands?

It was nothing but a quantum leap effected by the Grace of God pulling the right strands

Of course you don’t know this, cos to me you choose to act like a Pharisee

And take what you don't know less important than what you see

You just call me an atheist because I speak the language of God instead of religion

And refuse to join the people who claim to be many, for their name is legion

Don’t get it twisted, God called me the Light of the World

That’s why I get restless when everything goes wrong with the world

I am not bitter, I am not sad, and very far from evil

After all, when Jesus spoke against the Pharisees, he was called a devil

If you know what God has done for me, you would never call me an atheist

Instead, you would face the pastor who chose to be a rapist

The masochist

And the one who chose to speak to his wife with his fist

So pardon me for the choice of where I flash my torch

Even if for now, its beam seems to rest on the church

The Scriptwriter

Source

The atmosphere in the cinema was charged. The air of mystery was very strong; no one knew what would happen next. The heroine was in serious trouble. Her situation had been getting worse with the progression of each scene.

The hero had been captured and was shackled in the dungeon. The blood of the heroine was about to be spilled. The villain was getting the victory and laughing heartily. It was a loud and bitter laugh. Everyone that had tried rescuing the heroine had been violently eliminated from the story. The only hope was the hero, but he was nowhere to be found.

The heroine was still in distress. The villain approached her, flashing his devilish grin and brandishing his shiny dagger. Evil was winning and good seemed to be losing the war. The movie was turning awry. The movie viewers were tensed. They shifted restlessly at the edge of their seats. They wanted to know how this story would end.

Suddenly, the villain lifted the dagger above the heroine, ready to strike and the movie audience started murmuring audibly. By this time, some people had their faces in their palms, they couldn’t bear to watch anymore. Some others had jumped up from their seats in apprehension. Everyone was exhibiting one form of anxiety or the other. Everyone... except one man!

The man sitting beside this exceptional man noticed the calm demeanour he had, and wondered why he wasn’t moved by this movie that seemed to shake even the most stone-cold heart. After a while, the seat partner looked at him again and kept wondering what was wrong with him.

He finally braced himself to ask the question that had now occupied his mind. ‘Excuse me sir. What exactly is wrong? Can’t you feel in tension in the air? Can’t you see the heroine is in trouble and about to go down? Can’t you see the hero is nowhere to be found? Can’t you see that evil seems to be prevailing over good? Why do you remain so calm? Are you so cold-hearted that such a strong movie scene cannot move you, when everyone has almost pissed in their pants?

The exceptional man smiled gently and replied, ‘Oh no sir. There is no need for me to be moved, I was the one who wrote the script of the movie!’

This above... is my true life story. I fret no more. The scriptwriter is control.

Selah.

The True Story behind the book – Antonyms of a Mirage

So for people that have read the book, people that are still reading, people that haven’t read and everyone... I am sure you are all wondering how such a book came to exist. You will all agree that you had never seen the concept of the book before. Well, I hope sha, I might be wrong. The truth is that I, myself, had never seen the concept before. I would like to be able to boast and say, this concept was mine, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. So if no one had ever seen such a book before and the concept wasn’t mine, how exactly did this come to being? Read the true story behind the creation of the book below.

As most of you know, I am not a romance writer, I haven’t published a thriller yet, I am not a mystery writer, I just write. I write whatever comes to my head because I have to write. If you have read the preface to the book, you will understand that. I write, write, write. I can look at you, get into your head and write anything that comes out. The thing is that I never write so that I can publish or sell a book. I Just Write. In fact, maybe I should rename this blog IJUSTWRITE. Lol.

I never intended to publish a book or be an author. Sometime last August, I was about to sleep, and (I am about to get spooky and spiritual here, so be careful) God showed me my book. He told me to take all my write ups and write some few more and make it a book. I couldn’t believe it. My write-ups were scattered. They couldn’t be categorised, they couldn’t be classified. Some were funny, some were bitter, in fact very bitter that I wondered how a happy girly like me could write such. A lot were introspective. They were just all over the place. A combination of my articles was like an irritating concussion rice that a bachelor would hurriedly put together so he wouldn’t go to bed hungry. So, I told God, ‘since I just write, what exactly will I say this book is about?’ People will say I am scattered.

Here was the reply. You will arrange the articles, classify them into sessions and they will be defined by different characters. This is because the writer has split personalities that are struggling in her head. When one character finishes telling different stories, another character will come and kick her out. You will depict them with fighting pictures.

I was so excited when this conversation was going on. My head suddenly started aching. It was pounding seriously. I wanted to sleep but God was talking. I had to shout STOP, STOP, I want to go and sleep. Please, Lord, STOP. I couldn’t sleep because of the excitement and the headache. I kept seeing the book in my mind, just like some of you have seen it.

People, the only problem was.... I never saw the Cover Page, and God did not tell me the Title. I don’t know why, but I guess that’s the way He wanted it. Seven months later, the book was with the Graphic artist and I was still begging God for a Title. You all know the story behind how I came up with the title. If you don’t know it, click here.

As for the cartoon on the cover page, the cartoonist came up with the idea. I told him I wanted a drawing depicting split personalities, something people will grab instantly without me having to explain it to them. I told him that I wanted someone looking into a shattered mirror and seeing six different personalities at the same time, but he said the personalities falling out of her braids will be better. I am not a choosy person, so I just rolled with his suggestion.

The book is 136 pages, 44 articles, 70% of which were never intended to be published. This is why you will find some true life scenarios there like Atilola and Her Yuppy Sugar Daddy, My Daddy is Samson, etc. mostly written by the comic one. Although, out of 44 entries, only about six are true scenarios of mine. I believe that if I wrote because I wanted to publish, I would have never ended up with such a book. I know myself. The concept was never mine!

Antonyms of a Mirage will therefore come to you in volumes. The reason is this.... I Just Write!