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lacasera14:
Hello people registering my presence with this piece

Dews Of Heaven

Nice poem. Can I share it on my blog?

Letter to My Lover Ann

Dear Ann,

It’s me Stan, Hope you got my message the last time;

Just so you know I still remain a huge fan;

Love letter

Confession time, I think I’m in love with you;

Okay, I think you already knew;

I know it means nothing to you;

I am the only one acting like it’s something real;

I am supposed to man up and stop acting like a fool;

I am supposed to be a real G, Nothing about being sissy;



Real Gee- About that life, I used to be real classy;

My bitches used to carry yellow skin and fat asses;

I messed that up, now my swag really do need some stitches;



My kind don’t fall in love, that’s what I told myself;

But damn, you showed up, slim, black and all set;

Amazing skin, lips of a goddess;

Ann, you’re all about being flawless;

Your smile girl, that would turn Lucifer himself to a saint;

Before I knew it I love you a hundred percent;

But oops, you’re having none of that shit;



You’d fall in love but the man hasn’t shown up;

Let her see that man in me, I pray oh lord;

I love you is what I say but I need to show more;



I never been here before, it’s so tough;

Winners don’t quit, that’s why I’m trying to man up;

Maybe I need God to forgive me for the sexy things I think about you;

But I won’t forgive myself if I go without you;



You’re the definition of black beauty;

Your eyes, your nose, your smile- damn pretty;

You are the perfect model for brain and beauty;

You’re my Miss universe, your crown has turn to gold;

My life revolves around your world from coast to coast;

Ama Silence humility, with you I’m going to boast;



I have these crazy things roaring in my head;

But oops you’re not giving me the go ahead;

Ama put the present behind, and the future ahead;

I believe our future is cute, just like you

Even if now is not so cool, ama hold on to that belief.

One ay will come, Ann, you will call me your boo

Yours affectionately, Stan.

Love Letter to My Lover Ann

Read More @ https://biadefola.com.ng/category/words/

Diary of a Dead Church Girl (Part 2)

Well, I don't blame myself at least not for the genesis of my issues. Daddy should have listened to my complaints; mummy should have pressed him more on my issues. Throughout school, dad and mum never visited me, not once.

Maybe I should take some blames too. Anyway, it's too late. I'm dead. My body is living but my soul dead, my conscience is buried.

I've gone beyond redemption. Uthman loves me, his father adores me. So why should I let out my flaws and get treated like dirt?

No one in their right sense would marry me if I told them my story.

I converted to Islam and took the name Aisha. Since they thought I had no family, Uthman's family, we fixed the union silently and I got married for the first time.

My wedding night was the saddest day of my life. I played back the whole thing and sighed at how things turned out for me. I married a rich man but won't live with peace of mind. I'd constantly look over my shoulder, fearing that my past might catch up with me.

I didn't enjoy my first sex with Uthman; he was good at it and all but couldn't feel the pleasure he thought I was giving him. Unknown to him, he was collecting the virus.

With time, I settled for the life. I knew I was positive and was taking the meds. He didn't but he would soon get the news that he was too. I was sure it would be traced back to me and hell will lose.

So one evening, I concocted an idea. I went moody before he got back from work and started sobbing the moment he entered.

I claimed I just found out that I was positive and blamed him for giving me the virus. He was shocked, sad and tongue-tied.

We saw a doctor and he confirmed that he got the affliction too.

I was lucky he had led a loose life while abroad so he couldn't tell who gave who the virus. He begged me and we planned our life around schedules and meds.

We were healthy and alive, there was the money and facility but we were afraid of birthing a baby. We didn't want to bring a baby to the world with the virus but our doctor assured us of a procedure that will make sure our baby was negative. So we made a baby.

I was 6months pregnant when I saw on TV that Dad and Mum had died in an accident. They were returning from a revival in Nnewi. I fainted and sobbed for weeks. Nobody could comfort me, I couldn't tell them what was the problem. I had told them I was an orphan. I wailed and suffered in silence.

I thought I'd be better soon, and move on but it was impossible. I kept having nightmares and hallucinations. I'd see my Dad cursing me by the graveside and Mum would be sobbing in a corner of whatever room I was.

I was close to madness. Finally, I lost my brace, I confessed to Uthman, told him all of my story. He got furiously mad at me and made sure I left his house that day. No amount of pleading would placate him, even his father was madder at me. I was eight months heavy but no pity was taken on me.

I returned to my father house the following weekend, with nobody to welcome me. I wanted so much to hear my daddy scream and yell at me, I wouldn't mind a slap or two from my mum. I really needed someone but all I had was the silent walls of the house.

I didn't deliver my baby in the 9th month. I saw doctors but they had no reasonable explanation so reverted to God.

For the very first in a very long time, I needed God. I wept and cried to God for days but saw no significant change. I then realised I was fooling myself. God wouldn't listen to a filth like me.

I went to a church and begged the pastor help me beg God to at least let me born the baby safely. If not for reason, he should consider the baby, it had no sin.

I knew he can't forgive me. I've gone too rotten but the baby doesn't deserve to share from my punishment.

The pastor thought otherwise. He thought God doesn't think like that, he will forgive me as far as I'm willing to ditch my old ways. He was quoting John 3:16 and all other verses that I knew like the back of my hand. I was just looking at him. I knew he didn't know me well enough.

But the man of God was not the one to be discouraged. He introduced me to support and bible study groups. Finally, I had my baby. He is negative. I was happy and appreciative.

God came through despite my gross deficiencies. He's ever merciful and forgiven.

My baby, Joseph is now 24, his convocation is next Thursday.

I was dead but the death of Jesus on the cross resurrected me. Hallelujah, his mercy endureth forever.

Read More Stories here https://biadefola.com.ng/category/stories/

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Cylovee:
thank you sir for not abandon us ... your story is very hard to predict what will happen next.

I am dropping update soon

Cylovee:
come boss am using tecno torchlight how do i refil my okadabook account and download and write comment . thanks

You should get someone who uses an android phone or you can browse on a laptop

While you await next update, you can refresh you thirst with short stories on this thread https://www.nairaland.com/4406346/nairaland-book-short-stories

While you await next update, you can refresh you thirst with short stories on this thread https://www.nairaland.com/4406346/nairaland-book-short-stories

Hey fams, update coming soon. while you wait check out my THREAD OF SHORT STORIES https://www.nairaland.com/4406346/nairaland-book-short-stories#79426052

DIARY OF A DEAD CHURCH GIRL

If you’re reading this, it means I’m dead. I was a church girl but I went rogue before my death. I need someone to blame for my death.

My name is Amaka but I'm not here to disappoint. Well, I speak for myself when I say I don't wanna disappoint you but as for my story, I don't know what it'd do. I'm a dead girl, and this is my story.

If I was a boy, my name would probably be Churchill because I was raised by Church people, practically in the church. I was always in the church every other day. It was either praise and worship Wednesday or children fellowship or choir practice or Sunday school prep. I always had something to do in the church.

My father was, still is a pastor and my mum was like his lieutenant. They did the ministry work together. I was in the loop too. I helped in my own little way. I was a church worker: served in the choir, led the children church and later the youth section. I taught Sunday school and wrote songs for the choir. Prayer and fasting was my thing. I was close to Jesus than red bet slip is to greedy bet9ja players.

After secondary school, I didn't see myself going for those 'worldly' courses. So I vied for Religious Studies. I gained admission into the department of Religion and cultural studies in UNN, a school that's supposedly restoring the dignity of man.

Our classes were more atheistic than I had imagined. We had lecturers of divergent perspectives- divergent like the legs of a flirty girl.

I wanted to drop out at the end of the first semester but Dad said the experience was good for me, that I couldn't claim to be educated if I didn't have a broad knowledge of theism and atheism. I should explore both worlds so that I'll appreciate Christ the more and that temptations were the true tests of faith.

I told him the classes weren't so much of Christ but of history, analysis, critique and literature review of religions and their books. He said I should learn and bring my religious upbringing to bear.

The RCS 124 lecturer, Mr Anochili was atheist and he taught the tradition of Jesus like it was the tradition of Obasanjo or Tinubu. He thought Jesus was a great man and he taught it the class on his opinion.

RCS 208 unbundled me. Dr Kayode, Yoruba man taught RCS 208, he was a staunch traditionalist, according to him, "leaders invented religions in other to control them and give them hope." He'd rather go the fetish way of his forefathers than follow a cultural and colonists imposition in Christianity or a violently propagated Islam.

He was a sleek orator and effortlessly implants his ideas in our mesmerized heads. Though, I was one of the stubborn theists, by 300L I had become a liberal Christian. I started dressing to blend. Only the BSF kept me in touch with my creator.

I met Chinwe in the BSF, he was a final year student of psychology. He came to the fellowship once in a while. He was funny, witty and brilliant. We got talking and I fell in love with him. I had my first sex with him and it was beautiful. Chinwe was gentle and caring. I always looked forward to being in bed with him.

Chinwe graduated and things ended between us. I met Lugi, that's everyone called him. I still don't know his real name till date. I was pregnant before I knew he was a cult guy. He was dropped by a rival gang, so I had my first abortion.

I met Nonso in my final year. I didn't love him but he had money and was all over me. I had three abortions for him.

One or two lecturers had to get down with me before I could pass some courses. I eventually graduated but I couldn't go home. Father had disowned me because I went home in another colour. I was black and shine before I left, I returned as a fake half cast. He got furious, I talked back. He was shocked, he threatened to disown me, I packed my bags. Mother blamed him for ignoring my complaints when I started school, he said I'm dead to him but he'll help my soul with prayers. I didn't look back, I thought I was free at last.

I was posted to Niger State for NYSC, I had one beautiful sex in camp with a strong soldier. He was good and all, I reached orgasm. He cummed in me but I didn't care.

The first week into my NYSC primary assignment, I realized I was pregnant. The soldier can surely shoot more than rifles. He had shot a cum into a foetus. Sad thing was, I didn't know his rank or name. I had another abortion. This time it was a catastrophe, my womb was weak so it crashed. I got HIV too.

I was admitted for three weeks. I got up again and decided to give life a try. I returned to my PPA, a beverage company in the heart of Minna. The chairman's son, Usman just returned from Yankee where he had been for years. He saw and found love in me. His father was happy, at last Junior takes interest in a woman.

They eagerly arranged for a trad, I told them I was an orphan never met my parents. Told Usman I was bad for him, he said I should shut up that he doesn't care.

I'm going ahead. I'll marry him. I can't even imagine what he or his father will do when they find out I can't give their family a baby, the only thing I'm capable of giving them is HIV.

I don't even know what Jesus will do with me. I'm beyond redemption, he can't forgive me. I'm dead and you can judge me all you want. I only need someone to blame for my death.

SOURCE: https://biadefola.com.ng/

READ DIARY OF A DEAD CHURCH GIRL PART TWO HERE https://biadefola.com.ng/diary-of-a-dead-church-baby-girl-2/

yhuxuf15:
How can I get the full story?

it's N200 at https://publish.okadabooks.com/book/about/asexsion__adult_only_18/22128

genius43:
Nice update OP, more wisdom to you. Can't wait to see Kike's father's reaction.

me too

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