My soul write

Ash Wednesday

Man is dust —
A dust that rusts.
And trust, this life
Disappears in a rush.

So a soul like mine sits to ponder:
What troubles tear life asunder?
Should one for gain seek surrender?
Should we trade a shining life
Before the Father?

Oh, gain is pleasant like the morning dew.
Wealth stands tall like a commander
Who has paid his dues.

Yet in all its glittering glue,
Life remains but vain.

Ashes we shall fall —
Like the fall of Jericho’s wall.
Man returns to dust,
As flesh decays and rusts.

So trust not in the beauty of this fleeting life,
But in quiet solitude
Live like Christ.

Sir Clinton ✍️

Happy Ash Reflective Wednesday

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IS LIFE JUST TOXIC ?

Sometimes I look at life and just laugh, because honestly… this world is full of imperfect people judging imperfect people.
🤣🤣🤣

Everybody is shouting about “standards” and “what they want,” but if you check their own life well, their standards get potholes , I mean really messy potholes 🥲.

People with the worst flaws are usually the loudest at pointing out other people’s mistakes.

Human beings funny Sha .... I dey imagine say normally we na comedy to the host of heavens
, like when they want to laugh our characters are enough comedy 🤣🤣

But without jokes eehhh , the real truth is, nobody is perfect.
Not me, Not you.Not anybody.

We all have contradictions we don’t like to admit.

You can love someone’s personality but not like some things about their body.
You can admire someone’s values but struggle with your own preferences.

Humans are a mixture of desires and imperfections - and that alone makes life messy.

But the real toxicity is not the flaws we all have.
The real toxicity is the expectation of perfection from people who have flaws as we have .

Don't you find it funny that ;
A liar wants honesty.
A stingy person wants generosity.
An impatient person wants patience.
A flawed person wants perfection.

Hmmmmm🥲🥲🥲🥲

We all want qualities we ourselves cannot fully give.

At the end of the day, life is about choosing the kind of imperfection you can live with be it in friendships, relationships, and even in yourself.

Because nobody will ever come as a complete package.
You will always get 70% of what you desire and 30% of something you’ll have to accept with understanding.

Maybe the real maturity is not looking for a perfect person…

but recognizing that we’re all just trying, failing, learning, and living with our own contradictions.

Sir Clinton ✍️
My soul write

I am calling on all Local Government Chairmen, And Heads of communities across every state to wait no further. The time for delay has ended. Every community must begin to train its citizens — especially the youths from 18 years and above — on practical safety guides, early-warning response, and self-defence awareness. The matter don really choke .

I go lie for you ___ I don lie for you before ?

And I am appealing to the Governors of our states:
Strengthen community security. Equip and empower local security with the highest level of protection, surveillance, communication tools, and trained personnel , not these ones with big tummy like Ancestors who cannot even run .

Seriously , there is fear in the land.
Atrocities are increasing every day.
Bandits… terrorists masking as herdsmen… invading peaceful towns… kidnapping… burning and killing innocent people.

At this point, sympathy is no longer enough.
We need more than sympathies.
We need knowledge, God, courage, and well-equipped community security to stand in the gap.

Because how do you explain people being killed in churches — the very place we seek peace?
How do you explain entire communities wiped out in one night?
How do you explain a nation where people sleep with fear in their chest?

I allegedly heard the news circulating in Owerri…
Reports of armed herdsmen infiltrating areas around Nekede…
People are frightened…
People are whispering…
People are asking the same question:

If the obvious becomes real, who will save us?

God will.
But while we trust God, we must also learn how to protect ourselves long enough for help to come.

We need trainings , alertness, early-warning intelligence, community watch systems, and strong organized community defence units backed fully by weapons from Authorities

Nigeria has reached a point where federal agencies alone cannot carry the entire weight of security.
It must now be a partnership between:
State governments
Local authorities
Registered community security networks
Families staying sensitized
Citizens trained in safety knowledge

It’s no longer a question of “Is it coming?”
It’s now a question of “When, and are we ready?”

This is no call to panic , it's a call to wake up to reality .... We need more than prayer this time around .

This is a call for preparedness, unity, and community strength.
A call for government to empower structured community defence.
A call for citizens to be enlightened and ready.

Nigeria Christians must not sleep again.
We must rise, protect our people, and defend our land with unity, intelligence, and courage.

Share this message till it gets to the right Audience .

Shalom 🙏🙏🙏🙏

My soul write

“Anybody that hates your parents can’t like you.”

Mummy emphasized these words every day until they became a sweet rhythm to my ears.

But still, I fell into the trap.

I fell in love with the one person who had always wanted to get back at my parents.

I met Jacob in Arena 2 — one of the most dangerous roads to pass by after 8 p.m.

That evening, I went out with my friends, but couldn’t return with them because they wanted to stay out late. I couldn’t — because mummy would skin me alive.

So, I boarded a cab home. Unfortunately, the car broke down right in Arena 2.

Before the driver could fix it, hoodlums surrounded us.

I emptied my pockets, but it wasn’t enough for them. They wanted more — my body.

I pleaded and pleaded until Jacob appeared.

He fought those men single-handedly until they fled. He saved me like a princess in distress. He offered to walk me home, and we exchanged contacts.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept seeing his face — his courage, his voice whispering, “You’re alright now.”

He was injured, bleeding, yet he never asked for anything in return. I fell in love instantly.

“I’ve found the love of my life,” I told myself. It was love at first sight.

Six months later, I noticed . Jacob never shouted at me , never corrected me.

He agreed with everything I said, treated me like royalty, and spoiled me with gifts.

He was too perfect to be a human being .

In the seventh month, I received a call that shattered me:

Jacob had been in an accident that claimed the lives of 10 people ,the caller said .

I ran like a madwoman.

At the scene, people were lying on the ground with blood everywhere, but I couldn’t find Jacob.

Then, one by one, the injured stood up like nothing happened.

And there he was — behind me — kneeling, holding a ring and the keys to a G-Wagon.

I cried and laughed at the same time. It was the best day of my life.

But the joy didn’t last long.

When Jacob came to meet my parents, everything fell apart.

He was the son of my parents’ greatest enemy.

The moment Jacob stepped into our sitting room, silence fell.

Mummy’s smile froze midway. Daddy’s eyes widened like he had seen a ghost.

Jacob, on the other hand, looked calm — too calm.

He bowed respectfully, greeting them, but the tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Jacob who?” Daddy asked, his voice sharp.

“Jacob Musa,” he replied gently.

Mummy’s hands trembled. “Musa?” she repeated. “As in Chief Musa?”

Jacob nodded.

The next thing I heard was a loud bang. Daddy had hit the table so hard that the flower vase shattered.

“Get out of my house!” he shouted. “Get out now before I lose my temper!”

I was confused. “Daddy! What’s going on?”

But Daddy wouldn’t listen. “Do you know who his father is? That man almost ruined my career, my marriage, my entire family! He’s the reason your mother almost lost her life twenty years ago!”

I looked at Jacob, and for the first time, his face wasn’t calm. His jaw tightened; his eyes glistened like he was fighting back tears.

He turned to my father. “Sir, I’m not my father. I’m not here to continue the war between you. I love your daughter.”

“Love?” Daddy scoffed. “Love from a snake’s son is still poison!”

I ran into my room, tears spilling down my face. Jacob followed me outside, whispering,

“I didn’t come into your life by mistake. I didn’t even know who your parents were until recently. But I can’t stop loving you.”

That night, I couldn’t sleep. My heart was at war — between my family’s past and my future.

Days turned into weeks. Mummy avoided the topic. Daddy grew cold towards me. Jacob didn't stop calling ,but the distance between us stretched like a rope ready to snap.

One evening, as I walked back from the market, I saw him again — standing by Arena 2.

The same place we first met, the same road where he once saved me.

It felt like life had brought us back to where it all began.

He stood there under the streetlight, looking even more handsome, more composed — but there was something strange in his eyes, something I couldn’t read.

When our eyes met, he smiled.

“Funny, right?” he said softly. “This road started everything.”

I wanted to be angry, to walk away, but my heart betrayed me. I still loved him.

“I miss you, Jacob,” I confessed.

He stepped closer. “Then let’s fix what’s broken.”

And that was how we rekindled what I thought was lost. I began to pressure my parents, begging them to give Jacob another chance.

For weeks, they refused — my father especially. But love can be stubborn.

I stopped eating. I stopped smiling. I told them if they didn’t accept Jacob, they would have to bury me instead.

My parents panicked. I was their only child, their everything.

One evening, Daddy walked into my room, sat beside me, and sighed deeply.

“If this is what will make you happy, my daughter… then so be it.”

Tears flooded my eyes. I hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Daddy.”

That night, Jacob came to our house — dressed in white, carrying flowers and a bottle of wine.

He bowed to my parents and said, “Thank you for accepting me. I promise to protect your daughter with my life.”

They smiled weakly. Mummy even brought out a small tray of drinks to welcome him properly.

I was in tears — tears of joy, or so I thought.

Then Jacob’s face changed.

His smile vanished.

He reached into his pocket — not for the ring I expected, but for a gun.

“Now,” he said coldly, “you’ll pay for what your father did to mine.”

Before I could scream, two men entered the house wearing masks.

They handed me another gun after beating the hail out of me

“Shoot them,” Jacob said. “Right now.”

I froze. My whole body went numb. “Jacob, please… you said you loved me!”

He laughed bitterly. “I loved the pain your father felt when he saw his daughter holding a gun. Do it!” he shouted and slapped me .

I shook my head, crying uncontrollably. Daddy shouted, “Run, my daughter! Don’t do it!”

But one of the masked men hit Daddy in the leg. Mummy screamed.

Jacob raised his voice again. “Shoot them! Or I’ll do it myself.”

My hands trembled.

In that moment, I wished I had never met him.

I wished Arena 2 never existed.

And then—two loud bangs filled the air. I actually shot Jacob but the bullet didn't pe*****te .I had no other choice left I shot my own parents dead while Jacob recorded everything .

The next morning, the video went viral.

It was everywhere

They said I looked possessed.

But they didn’t know — it was fear.

Jacob disappeared from my life like he never existed ,I had no evidence against my claims so I was sentenced to life imprisonment.

Every night, I lie awake in my cell replaying that moment — my parents voices , their eyes, that gun.

And sometimes, when the lights go off, I still hear their whisper saying :

“Anybody that hates your parents can’t love you.”

How Do You Manage Stage Fright?

Pause a second, buddy!
If I asked you the same question, you’d probably say -Take a deep breath, believe in yourself.
Right?

Honestly, you’re not wrong. But allow me to remind you - stage fright is normal.
Absolutely normal.
Even the biggest artists, the ones you see commanding thousands, still feel it.
Yes, they do.

You see, you’re human - and stage fright happens to humans.
The moment you accept that truth,
you take the first step toward being in charge of it.

For me, as a spoken word artist, I still feel that rush -
that trembling heartbeat before I grab the mic.
But when it comes, I shut my mind off from the crowd.
I stop seeing them as faces and start seeing them as energy.
I imagine I’m alone - performing to my own soul.
Even when I see scary eyes or strange faces,
I refuse to let them exist.
I only see me and once I do that, nothing scares me anymore.

Listen, guys…
Stage fright is normal -- but it can mess you up big time if you let it.
So next time you’re heading for a performance, a show, or an audition, try this:

Before you climb that stage, take a deep, long breath.

Remind yourself why you’re there - what you want to achieve.

Confront your fears - if there’s one person or a group of eyes that intimidates you, don’t avoid them; speak to them.
Engage them -make them part of your art.

Because once you control your fear,
you don’t just perform -you own the stage.