Lagos World

Ayoolamiposi Precious, A name heaven seems to pronounce softly, As though angels rehearsed it before you arrived. You are not just growing in years— You are unfolding, like a prophecy finding its voice. In SS1 you stand, At the gentle threshold of becoming, Where brilliance begins to stretch its wings And talent learns the courage to fly. Your beauty is calm, not loud; It lives in your smile, your manners, And the quiet confidence of a soul well-bred. You are the first granddaughter of my mother, The opening chapter of a new lineage of grace, The one whose birth announced joy before words could. In you, legacy learned how to breathe again, And hope found a young face to wear. Angelic in nature, you move with light— Kind where the world teaches hardness, Pure where the times reward haste. Wisdom sits gently on you, As though God whispered early lessons into your spirit. I pray for you today: your mind will grow in wisdom, excellence will become your habit. Your talent never ...

Ajani, A name that carries quiet strength Even in the laughter of a child. Though younger in years, Joy seems older in you— It knows your face well. Fair and handsome, You wear brightness naturally, As though the sun pauses Each time you run past. Your playfulness is your language, Your laughter, a small miracle That fills rooms without asking permission. You love freely, With arms always open, With a heart that forgives quickly And remembers only joy. In your games and gentle mischief, There is innocence— The kind the world has not yet taught to hide. Today we celebrate you, Another gift born into our family, From another sister’s womb Yet bound by the same blood of affection. You remind us that love does not compete; It multiplies. God will guard your days and nights. God will protect your steps. God will shield your heart. God will grow you into kindness and courage. God will rest favour upon your head. God will let wisdom rise with your years. God will turn your playful...

Nollywood actress and producer, Allwell Ademola, has reportedly died, entertainment sources said on Saturday. Ademola, 43, is said to have suffered a heart attack at her residence before she was taken to hospital, according to reports circulating within the film community. Fellow actress, Faithia Williams, took to Instagram to share her reaction to news of Ademola’s passing, writing, “Haaaa. This hit me so bad. Eniobanke. Allahu Akbar..Allwell.” Also reacting, popular actress Mide Martins posted a photo of Ademola on Facebook, writing, “BLACK SATURDAY……This is not fair😭 May God forgive your shortcomings Allwell.” Another colleague, Damola Olatunji, posted a candlelight image with the caption: “Life is a mirage.” Actress, Bidemi Kosoko, expressed disbelief at the reports, saying: “No way. No, no,, no. Ko possible ooo. This isn’t true. God forbid, in Jesus’ name. “I refuse to accept this one Lai Lai God forbid. Olorun oni je. Just reply to my message, abeg Oremi/ aunty mi. I...

Honourable Commissioner, MCCTI, Mrs Folashade Bada Ambrose joined fellow women at the Pink Dew Soirée, a community of like-minded women for a night of reflection, gratitude, and connection. The Commissioner described the event, organised by Mrs Betty Irabor and held recently in Lagos, as a beautiful reminder of what happens when intention, connection, and community come together in one space. "The gathering underscores the huge contributions of women in business and other facets of life and the platform not only provides an opportunity to share experiences, but also to partner towards advancing women's contributions to the economy and overall development of the society." #mccti #AGreaterLagosRising #LASG

The Ministry of Establishments and Training has officially launched the Ministry’s Training Manual and Establishment Handbook, marking a significant milestone in strengthening capacity development and administrative efficiency in the State Public Service. While launching the two publications, the Permanent Secretary, Mrs. Olubusola Abidakun, stated that the manuals were developed to serve as reference guides for all Ministries, Departments, and Agencies (MDAs).  She noted that the Training Manual provides a framework for staff development and capacity building while the Establishment Handbook offers guidelines on rules and operational procedures applicable throughout the public service. She emphasised that the manuals reflect the Ministry’s commitment to effective service delivery, adding that their adoption would create room for professionalism. The Permanent Secretary commended the departments involved in the development of the publications and urged all M...

Born beyond sanction, schooled by the syllabus of rot, concrete nursing him like a blunt mother, hunger the only doctrine that holds He learns early, the world speaks fluently in absence Dry mouths fire brittle syllables, hard words misfiring like jammed pistols We ask how such a child fails to resemble us, as if likeness were congenital, as if ethics arrive unbruised, as if belonging is not first bestowed before it can be rehearsed The world withdrew at inception and later demanded virtue a theology of perfection measured on a crooked seesaw What we label deviance is memory refusing erasure What we call monstrosity is neglect given time and teeth The child did not betray us. We only met ourselves late, angry at the mirror, reaching to smudge what we cannot disown.  © J.M. SAVANNAH INKS -Zimbabwe This poem, "Monster in the Closet" by J.M (Savannah Inks), is a powerful critique of societal neglect and the consequences of abandonment . It explores themes of marginal...

When you love   Her dearly,   All you want   Is always   To have her.   You lose   Track of time   When you're lost   In her.   You know it's true,   You dearly love her.   And all you want   Is nothing more   Than only her.   Your heart no longer   Beats for you alone,   But belongs to her, Completely. © SHOKOMAIDZA JOE (SHOKO J.) -Zimbabwe This poem, "Only Her", expresses deep affection and devotion to a loved one. The tone is tender, passionate, and introspective .

Lagos State Governor, Mr. Babajide Sanwo-Olu, has urged Lagosians to remain calm following the fire incident that engulfed the 25-storey Great Nigeria Insurance (GNI) Building on Martins Street, Lagos Island. The cause of the fire is yet to be ascertained. However, no casualty has been recorded. The Governor, who has been personally monitoring the situation since the incident was reported, immediately directed the Lagos State Fire and Rescue Service to intensify response efforts and ensure the evacuation of adjoining buildings to guarantee public safety. When the distress call was received at 4:41 p.m., fire crews from Ebute Elefun and Dolphin Fire Stations responded promptly, with reinforcement from Sari Iganmu Fire Station and the Alausa Headquarters. Firefighters arrived at the scene within 12 minutes, at 4:53 p.m., and commenced coordinated containment efforts. Preliminary reports indicate that the fire started from the fifth floor of the building before spreading to ot...

In my days, still young, when Christmas time came, our teeth were always out, waiting for that uncle and aunt who promised us gifts; and came. On our wrists, we wore plastic watches; on our faces, Christmas masks; the ones said to come from Rome. Early morning, you’d find us all outside with plates; for burning pots waited in the yard, their steam calling our names. But now, Christmas seems to have changed. No more banger sounds; the police are near. No more matching dresses; now, we have a choice. No more trees dressed in Christmas lights; no time to dress a tree, no time for carols; we have grown too big for that age. Christmas in my yard, in those early days, used to be pure fun, because we had those we loved around. But now, I'm only home for the holidays, time has stolen some moments but left us with memories; for it is que será, será. ©️ SULAIMON KHALID -Nigeria This poem is a nostalgic reflection on the speaker's childhood Christmases, contrasting the carefre...

Mama we miss you it's been long since we've seen you. We hope you Ok we pray everyday , that God sees you. I know it's not easy looking after us but please do come back don't turn your back on us we still need you. We sit at the floor and stare at the door for a knock every night. Nkosi and Mpilo I hold them both assuring them you'll come by. But I'm not sure anymore that you will ever arrive. Don't get it ,did drugs cause you to disregard our lives? Ever since you began taking them you not who you was mom. They smolder your brain you not thinking the way you once thought. No smiles no hugs nomore telling how much you love us. You seek excuse to be mad and lash out on us. I know the day when dad walked away it really harmed yah. But it harmed us too , don't mean to say we feel what you feel mama. But we desire you become strong for us and not go from us , Like he did he was driven by lust don't be driven by drugs mama.   If he's the r...

Today, a glory was born, a glory is born, "happy birthday" is a litote  for a day cannot completely celebrate a man who paths are spread across timeless seasons. He does not just write, you somersault moments into timeless records. His excellence has no dash to be filled. Have you met a man loyal to the truth? Have you seen a victory married to labour? Have you read Literatures of integrity? Do you know of any creature of Eledumare  who carries responsibilities with dignified grace? If yes, it is simply Great Abiodun Moshood, nobody shares reporting with him. His handsomeness glitters without noise, his discipline is quiet and respectable, he is the discovered forest of knowledge  that no man dares to cut down. Peace finds a place in his speech, the man who knows the exact headlines, I recognise the footsteps of your lines through rich details. Happy birthsecond to you I say, you deserve this for every half of a second in life. The heavens are clapping the clo...

Fresh out of college,  About to turn life onto a new page He walked to a ditch they had dug To see just how deep the drills had sunk Then the older man walked up to him "Deep, doesn't it seem?" "It's a long way down, I have to say..." "See, such is as in life; it goes the same way, The deeper the foundation where  you are rooted The higher you go when you're sprouted... It's your foundation that determines your balance So to make sure you don't fall by any chance We usually dig deep into the hard ground Where the rock is, is where the building is found A structure founded with the right depth Stands as a rock in the earth Withstands the harsh conditions that come around it Even the fluctuations occurring in and around the pit Don't make much impact when the foundation is proper And whatever you build from there will stand and prosper... It can go for stories and stories without falling  And it can stand in the rain without fa...

I acknowledge The Iyami, the Sacred Mothers, the Ancient Feminine Power, the womb of creation, destruction, wisdom, and transformation. The Iyami are the keepers of destiny, the unseen force behind life, death, justice, and spiritual law. They remind me that creation and correction come from the same womb. I walk with humility. I honor feminine power in its highest form. I respect what cannot be controlled, only aligned with. Iyami, grant me wisdom to move correctly. Teach me restraint, discernment, and spiritual maturity. Remove arrogance, imbalance, and ignorance from my path. Protect me from misalignment with divine law. Stabilize my destiny. Cover my household, my womb, my lineage, and my purpose. May I speak with wisdom. May I act with integrity. May I honor sacred feminine power within myself and others. Iyami, I honor your depth, your authority, and your ancient truth Àṣẹ -Nigeria This poem is a reverent spiritual invocation addressing the Iyami, embodying ancient fe...

In a heartwarming display of generosity and community spirit, Honourable Wuraola Salimata Adewale hosted the "Christmas Cash Palliative Support 2025" event on Monday 22nd December, 2025, at National Bank Estate in Oriade Local Council Development Area, Ward G. The event, aimed at providing cash relief to the community during the festive season, was a resounding success, leaving attendees beaming with delight. The event, preceded by Honourable Ambros Ahmed, began with an opening prayer led by a pastor, setting the tone for a joyous and uplifting gathering. All the leaders of the ward and all the  councillors were recognized. The atmosphere was filled with excitement as pictures and videos were taken to capture the memorable moments. In her speech, Honourable Wuraola Salimata Adewale expressed gratitude to the community for their support, votes, and prayers during the last Local Government Election. She acknowledged the trust reposed in ...

“And I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten…” – Joel 2:25. There is an old proverb that says, _“The best time to plant a tree was twenty years ago.”_ Many of us know that feeling all too well – especially in our finances. We look back at decisions we should have made, opportunities we should have taken, money we should have saved, debts we should have avoided, and wisdom we wish we had possessed much earlier in life. And if we are honest, some of the pressure we feel today is simply the consequences of unwise financial choices we made years ago. But the good news of the gospel is that God’s mercy does not end at salvation. As we already established in this series, God’s mercy extends into practical areas of our lives, including our finances. When it comes to finances, grace means receiving blessings that we don’t deserve, but mercy means God not allowing us to reap the full consequences of what we _should_ have suffered. Throughout Scripture, God consist...

“He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.”– Ps 147:3. As we get older and the years pass on, our life’s rear-view mirror tend to become clearer. And our regrets when we look back at relationships we damaged or allowed to drift can feel heavier than financial loss. Harsh words spoken to parents now gone, seasons of selfishness that cost us a marriage, friendships we neglected, children we wounded by our immaturity, love we threw away on the wrong people – these are the “locusts” that eat at our hearts far deeper than money ever could. But praise God, the same mercy that redeems us from sin and from financial foolishness, can reach even further into our relationships.  Mercy in this area does four beautiful things for the Believer: Firstly, it heals the heart that still carries guilt and sorrow. David famously cried after his most notable sin, _“Create in me a clean heart, O God”_ (Ps 51:10). God’s mercy doesn’t merely forgive; it cleanses the memory s...

There is a reason I cannot stop playing with the pen. Though we were not born together, each time I hold it, I feel real— a joy that has reshaped me. You see, they say, Show me your friend, And I will tell you who you are. This pen has named me: A poet, a novelist, a writer, an educator. So when I write, I summon magic. Once, I was told my blood was the pen’s ink, and diction—my breath. I stood speechless, until reason found me: When I die, do not cry— Just ask the pen. A sorcerer trusts his chants, An egoist his wine. Night after night, I clothed myself in words, painting mental worlds, telling stories that cross borders, that introduce me to strangers  Who feel like kin. Oh, when I die, tell my siblings and my children not to weep. Do not think I am gone. I live with them— my words, my voice, my presence. When you need me, read my lines. I am with you— today, tomorrow, forever. © GABRIEL S. WEAH (LYRICAL GENIUS) -Nigeria This poem, "WHEN I DIED, ASK THE PEN" by ...

Beautiful scar... Something you boast about, a sign of resilience and endurance. Yet at times, you wish the mark had never stayed. It is a bridge to the past, a quiet reminder of mista kes that became lessons. © AJAKAIYE OLUWATOBI -Nigeria This poem, "BRIDGES TO THE PAST", is a poignant and introspective piece that explores the complex emotions tied to past experiences and scars. It's a reflective poem that acknowledges the value of lessons learned from mistakes, yet also touches on the pain and longing for a pain-free past. The tone is contemplative, with a mix of acceptance and wistfulness.

You are born, to cry, to crawl and then to walk, to live mornings, to feel noons and wait for nights, to feel the air and again to be beaten by rain and wind. You learn to dream, to lose, to win, to watch the clear sky at dawn, to admire the bright sun at noon, to wonder at stars at night; you are here, to live, to achieve. You learn to hope for quick movement in Lagos jams, to celebrate small victories, and you learn that life isn't easy. You are born, to cry, to crawl and then to walk, to feel the air and again to be beaten by rain and wind. And again, you learn when to be alone and when to be among others; you learn to wrestle with choices and find the best in them. You learn to live at your best. And still, you love, you rise, again and again, for to live is not just to exist, but to face the storms and dance in the rain like you don't know what's pain. © SULAIMON KHALID -Nigeria This poem, "BORN TO LIVE" by Sulaimon Khalid, is a powerful and emoti...

It will come a time when silence replace my paths,  The stars no longer shines bright for my face,  When I die remember me,  Don't cry too much, feel me  in everyway.  Remember me,  When I am gone into the world of the unseen,  Call my name in every good possible thing,  Remember me when I am no more.   Remember every word I passed day by day in any form.  My words is where my heart resides.  I am not good enough to be loved by everyone.  I am not perfect,  I am just a human  who wishes to be better and belong to everyone.  Make me perfect now, So that you will remember me later.  Let not sorrow dim ur light,  My soul never dies,  It still dance into the silent world.  Carry me In the life you live,  When your heart feels cold, whisper my name,I will hear you  and  answer. Remember me when i am gone © TUSHELL MAGOMO -Zimbabwe “Remember Me” by Tushell Magomo is a...

She arrived like morning light, brilliant, gifted, impossible to ignore, loved by family, friends, and strangers who met her once and remembered her always. Ambition lived in her footsteps, creativity flowed from her hands; she built beauty out of pressure, turned ideas into trophies, and wore achievements like armor. But iron is forged in fire. Disappointment learned her name. Harassment bruised her silence. Heartbreak kept returning with different faces. Still, she created. Still, she rose. Still, she smiled, even when the core cracked quietly. She listens only to echoes she enjoys; truth, when it disagrees, becomes an enemy. Correction feels like betrayal, and wisdom sounds like war. Yet family stands careful with honesty, because when up becomes down, they will still be the ones she runs to. Ẹni nì í tẹ́ni, ẹ̀kísà ni tàtà n; blood bends, but it does not break. She rushes into love with hope racing ahead of discernment, only to meet the other side of affection.... Hummm....

A ruffled parliament of wings Blots the sweating summer sun, Not thieves, but titled heirs Practicing claim over what fear forsook Polished wings count mercy’s absence, Perched on the ribs of a failing truth; Patient as licensed hunger, Loyal only to ruin Before rot learned speech, They gathered, casting black ballots In the court of dead silence, Weighing breath against leverage They caw the grammar of hunger, Beaks click like closing ledgers; Each wingbeat votes for survival, Each eye a mirror without mercy The council feeds on aftermath, not war, Dropping once courage leaves the field. They do not kill,they refine The profit of corpses The state calls it stability. The church cloaks it in mystery. Vampires name it growth. The crows nod, fed by consent I stood among them, counting, Silence mistaken for wisdom, Caution dressed as virtue, Learning how easily one blends When wings are no longer required to scavenge  J.M. SAVANNAH INKS -Zimbabwe This poem is a dark, power...

Eden,before meeting the devil Life in paradise was sweet After the forbiden pill The better half got lost Just for love I had no choice Than listening to her voice Two shall become one Led our spirits astray Feared all including our shadows They haunt us away I never knew she was tasty And how she was that sweet Until she gave me that apple Was it really forbidden... Why was it hidden... It has no sample The hailmark of beauty The cuddials broke the silent Love in the air was sent Birds danced to our melodies Rivers flowing down the hills Moon glown our bodies Sparkling the romantic water falls..... ©️ ARTYSTIK MSAFIH JOSIAH - Kenya This poem is a sensual retelling of the Eden story, blending innocence and seduction. The speaker reflects on paradise lost, attributing it to love and desire ("Just for love I had no choice"). The language is lush ("Moon glown our bodies", "Sparkling the romantic water falls"), emphasizing the allure of forbidden l...

My heart burns everyday, every minute is no longer a friend to me, the world made me a demon, my emotion is being toyed with, what did I do to deserve all these? My heart burns everyday, no one is true to me, except my mother and siblings who fed me with the earliest routes of success. My heart burns everyday, I am not writing poetry, I am weeping with words, love is not easy, ambition is not easy, peace is not easy, all that I worth aren't easy also... nothing seems easy! My heart burns everyday, God, why am I here? Why didn't you make me an angel up in the heavens with you? Weeping and living, dying and struggling, dreams discouraged by those who admire my beauty, I can do the job but he wants me to pay in kind. The king wanted to take my glory, he did not do as he would for his daughter. My heart burns everyday, Eledumare...who created me, when will happiness be my friend, why is bliss a temporary part of me? My skin is strong like burnt clay, I am not wanting to...

Kimbo's sunrise comes up with fret Turmoil whirls, he fails to interpret Legs still weak, his ears still wet So much jumbling on his plate He learns every Impala's fate As naked flames of pagatory Ravaging into ash thier story With death authoring history Predators whir up their glory Hungry lions, roam the glade Vultures also want him dead Dread gathers upon the herd In a whirl of turmoil, and loss Between jaws of angry crocs Death, is their absolute price. Sticks around mum: the wise Death lingering behind, close Air bursts in and out his nose His heart drums. He's scared The herd soothes, in the glade He sucks when mum has fed His worry sail away in a dory; Paradise has visted pugatory Angels have kissed his story, A moment of soothing glory... Lays, calm on a smooth slate He fought for survival on till late Drawing from what I'm looking at, Fighting seems an inevitable fate Yet... there's solace in every sunset © MAURICE N CHIADZWA -ZIMBABWE The poem "Solac...

He sat up in his bed, in the lamp's glow He cleared his throat and said, "You know," All great men know and understand  That on our knees, comes the strength to stand That is where all stories are written first Before they come to be experienced by the rest That's where ideas of yesterday  Became the hard substances we enjoy today It's a life of sustaining environment  A well of sustenance without an end It's where the wave of despair is turned into hope And where impossibilities are told to stop It's where what wasn't is given a foundation  And the ideas that linger in the air are turned into creation  This is where men are made and shaped This is where paths are drawn and mapped This is where life in its abundance is poured  You thought I was a fighter all my life even as it sets But my workout was always in my prayer closet And all great men know and understand  That on our knees, comes the strength to stand" He fell back into his bed, facing a...

I was reading a self-help book of faith and fami6, and while reading, I came across a line that said: “How ungrateful are you to always demand from your Lord, without giving Him credit for the things He gave you without asking. How ungrateful are you to always demand without appreciating Him for the things He gave you without having to spend." "How ungrateful are you to always question your Lord for withholding certain things, when you have not even said Alhamdulillah for the things He gave you freely." That line really hit hard, and it is nothing but the harsh truth.  We ask God for everything. Big things. Small things. Urgent things. Future things. We ask with confidence, with expectation, sometimes even with entitlement.  Yet, how often do we pause to genuinely appreciate Him for what He has already given us? The things we never prayed for. The things we didn’t even know we needed. The things He gave us quietly, consistently, mercifully. Air in our lungs. ...

  M — Monisolami meets me as I am, O — Opens her heart without judgment, M — Mends me with  patience, S — Sees my flaws without turning away, I — Ignores the urge to                 leave, E — Endures, and stays. M — Monisolami mirrors my truth, O — Owns my pain as her own, M — Makes room for my excesses, S — Stands firm in love, I — In quiet understanding, E — Ever present. M — Monisolami marks my worth, O — Overlooks my shortcomings, M — Moves closer when I falter, S — Sees all of me, I — In patience and grace, E — Endlessly stays. M — Monisolami, my safe place, O — One who knows me deeply, M — Mindful of my flaws, S — Still chooses me, I — In love that does not waver, E — Every time. M — Monisolami, more than understanding, O — Open beyond measure, M — Mercy in human form, S — Steadfast in knowing me, I — In all my seasons, E — Enduringly present. © Stephen Ayodele AYINMODE 2025 -Nigeria This acrostic poem, where each...

Most often, love is portrayed not as comfort, but as emotional labour, since silence from loved ones wounds deeper than rejection from strangers. Is this thing called love betrayal? No! It is emotional survival. In fact, for some, love amplifies hurt. Does emotional withdrawal serve as self-preservation? Yes! Seeking emotional detachment to survive unreciprocated love may be the best option. Love is meant to bring closeness, yet it sometimes pushes the lover toward distance and substitutes. Hmm… love deepens understanding, but it also deepens pain. For me, for you, emotional distance is sometimes a necessary shield. Loving sincerely is risky, especially when affection is uneven. Think twice. Appreciate those who truly value you. © STEPHEN AYODELE AYINMODE -Nigeria The Paradox of Love and Understanding_ by Stephen Ayodele AYINMODE 2025 is a contemplative, philosophical free verse poem. It explores the complex, often painful duality of love, presenting it not as a source of c...

All my life has been a journey from one pain to another, from one storm to the next, no hand to hold, no shoulder to rest my tears on. I gave my heart in full honesty, poured myself into people without fear, yet halfway through the road they turned back and left me alone with my shadows. The mystery of my sorrow keeps breaking me into silent pieces pieces I gather every night just to survive the morning. When I thought I had found peace, it returned wearing the face of pain, multiplied, deeper, heavier. Those who promised me peace of mind became the very reason my mind no longer rests. And still I breathe, still I walk, carrying a heart that only wanted love but learned endurance instead. ©️ ZEPHNATH JUDE POET EROBE N -Nigeria This poem is a poignant and heartbreaking elegy that chronicles the speaker's lifelong journey of suffering, abandonment, and resilience. Through stark imagery and emotional vulnerability, the poet conveys the pain of being left behind by others, ...

Can one wound yesterday and expect today to offer gentle healing? Certainly not. Yet, you name it a game. This fragile thing called love. As though hearts were pieces to be moved, exchanged, or sacrificed without consequence. But even Mother Nature teaches otherwise: the slightest breeze rearranges the sceneries that define our days,, even the quietest season can alter the course of our destinies. To treat love as a game is to invite untold stories of regret, disappointment, and sorrow unspoken. Be wise. Retrace your steps. For a love once struck does not return unscarred; it dissolves into a fractured shadow, one that lingers behind us, soft yet haunting....... a testament to the blows we dealt and the tenderness we dismissed. Can you not see in his eyes that his heart belongs to her? He shared boundless days and nights with her, and he cannot let go of the years of wedlock that held them apart. Shine your face, stop dreaming, and release what was never truly yours. Do you...

Yesterday, I turned a swollen cheek from all the blows of words that carried away  all the love I tugged. Batter on battery, I was robbed to run from a perfect pull. “This mad man,” beat to blue, my blue sky muse. At last! Your path of a brightened darkness  has levelled. You gathered every shard of shade you once left scattered  like tiny lanterns, still glowing with the stubbornness of sobriety. Call me mad again, for madness is the map I follow to return to the muse of me. If love is a bruise, then let me  lean to its colour, let me learn the hidden softness  in the pain of remembering. For even wounded, my heart still hikes at the altar of tomorrow.  Like a pilgrim of impossible devotion, like a wanderer  searching for a day after a forever that once darkened my dawn. “This mad man,” you said. Yes,  here I stand, stitched by the longing eye of today, clothed in the remnants of calm… proof that even broken things can rise and be kin...

His heart travels  Just as the sea Tides and troubles Wild and yet free Driven by her flare He will be loving her... Until the stars crush And steam in the sea Until we get to catch A sunset in the east Until we find dry air And warmth in the mist  As clouds across the sky Light and vulnerable, His spirits get so high His heart's now stable Melted by her stare He will be loving her... Until eagles start to Hide rain in a nest Until we catch a  Sunrise in the west Until hyaenas lay With lions in a glade As a soft soothing wind Cooling as a breeze Brushy without a print Warmth filled with ease Mesmerised when she's there He will be loving her... © MAURICE N CHIADZWA -Zimbabwe "Loving Her Always" is a romantic poem that celebrates the enduring power of love. The speaker's heart is likened to the sea, symbolizing its wild, free, and untamed nature, yet it's captivated by the beloved's presence. The poem's use of impossible scenarios ("Unti...

During my National Youth Service, I encountered a series of terrifying snake encounters that would change my perspective on life. It began on a fateful night when I was making a phone call at a street junction. As I sat on a flower bed, a poisonous black snake slithered through my legs. I leapt up, shouting "Snake! Snake!" and ran for my life. Thankfully, passersby came to my rescue, and we killed the snake. That night, I couldn't shake off the feeling of mortality. I thanked God for sparing my life. Little did I know, a similar incident would claim the life of a local Imam. He had been bitten by a snake, unaware of the danger lurking within. The irony was striking – a man who once cured snake bites fell victim to one. My encounters didn't end there. One afternoon, while a fellow corps member slept inside, I lay on a bench outside. A visitor arrived, and as I attended to him, a long green snake appeared inside the room. My colleague's warning cry saved...