Speak peek

Hello friends,

Over the last weekend,  I’ve been working on a blog series for Easter composed of articles from my archives.

I’m almost through!!!

“Then said he unto them, Therefore every scribe which is instructed unto the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which bringeth forth out of his treasure things new and old.”
-Matthew  13:52

Finally,  the Easter package from HeirWalk (www.heirwalk.wordpress.com) is almost ready…

image

#Sneakpeek

Blessings,
Toluwanimi

Speak peek

Then said he unto them, Therefore every scribe which is instructed unto the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which bringeth forth out of his treasure things new and old.
Matthew  13:52

Finally,  the Easter package from HeirWalk (www.heirwalk.wordpress.com) is almost ready…

image

#Sneakpeek

Blessings,
Toluwanimi

A short story

Hello everyone,

I’m feeling blessed today… No, I’m actually blessed! God’s word have soothed my fears and given me directions and I am making much progress concerning my book, Donut. You can check how far I have gone here.

Today, I’m sharing with you a short story from my archives. Read and make inferences! Enjoy but remember it’s copyright to me!

 

I titled it  Abbadon.

 

THE SHRILL CRY OF THE ALARM WOKE ME. Or was it the sharp pain in my bones?

Whichever did, it made me stand up from bed. I scooped my sheets to one side and shifted the blinds above. Electricity was out but the rays of the mid-morning Vitamin D activating sun did a good job of lighting the room. As I got up from bed and stretched in front of the full length mirror, my cover clothes slithered down my body, revealing a chocolate complexioned muscular torso I was proud of.

It was 11:00am.

I bent over the dresser stool, picked up a vial and popped two red tablets into my mouth.

“Are you okay?”

From the corner of my eyes, I saw Sade walk in and lean on the threshold, wiping her hands with a napkin.

“I’m fine” I replied. And then winced.

You’re not.” She said and I felt the tension in her voice and then the closeness of her scent.

“Is it the pain again?” her hands touched me.

Still semi-prone over the stool beside the bed, I allowed her massage my back. I was beginning to feel the bone pains again. Probably from the stress from last night’s partying, I thought. But I had learned from the last episode of my crisis not to take water and painkillers for granted.

As if she knew my thoughts, she brought a glass of water near my temple which I took and emptied in one gulp.

Sade tapped on the eagle tattoo on my shoulder and smiled.

“You are an eagle – a fighter – be strong for me.” She kissed my shoulder and her lips lingered for a few seconds.

“Thanks” it was all my throbbing head allowed me to say.

She walked to the closet and brought out my yellow towel “Maybe a warm shower would help.”

I could not argue but sheepishly allowed her lead me into the bathroom. As I lathered soap, thoughts filled my mind. At twenty one I had all a young man dreams of – an apartment owned by my grandma which was near campus, a little Toyota sports car she bought me for my last birthday, and a girlfriend who loved me heads over heels. What more could I ask?

Save this pain I had grown to recognize as my seasonal gift since my mom walked out of my dad. The doctor says I have this condition that predisposes me to bone pains when there is a stressful situation in my body. I didn’t care what he called it, but I knew the cause – mom. And I hated her for it. As the water skirted the curves of my body, I felt some soothing – the painkillers had started to act.

Sade was rummaging through some drawers when I emerged fifteen minutes later, with a towel draped around my waist.

“Mom called.” She said immediately.

“Oh. She did?”

“What’s the problem? She just asked after you.” She could read my feigned concern.

I just rolled his eyes. The last person I wanted to hear of now was my mom. I don’t even know why I called her mom – especially whenever the pains come.

“Yeah she did. She asked if you were taking your medications and enough water…” her voice trailed off.

“Oh, really. Like she cares.”

I sat on the bed and rubbed hair cream over my well-shaped afro and blurted, “if she cared, she wouldn’t have walked out on dad like she did. She should have thought about me – my condition.”

She sighed. Maybe she could feel the pain behind my words, or she just plain cared, I don’t know and I couldn’t tell, because she just said, “I understand.” She stroked my chin as she talked. “You told me your dad could drink and beat like no-one-else. Maybe she was fed up.”

“Oh…so you’re giving her excuses. Huh?”

“No. I’m sorry” Sade handed me a pair of my shorts and a sunlight shirt, which I started to wear.

“Ahem, she also talked about grandma.”

“What did she say?” My eyes widened and I stopped buttoning my shirt and faced her. Hope Grandma is fine. I thought. But she heard.

“I’m afraid no, she’s in the hospital. ’said she slumped yesterday.” Like a flash, I picked up my iphone and dialled my mother.

The call went through after a ring.

A man said Hello. It was John, mom’s new husband. His hoarse voice gave him away.

“James speaking, is mom there?” I said without greeting him.

“She’s in the kitchen, if you would just hold, I could get her.”

“Please do.” I was irritated by him too – for marrying my mom after she walked out of the house ten years earlier, claiming that my dad was too dangerous to live with. But I knew she had a few boyfriends back then too. So she had no right to accuse my dad of drinking. He was a long distance driver – so what do you expect? She left me with the man when he insisted he wanted to have his son with him and I was bitter for that.

Mom’s voice jerked me out of my thoughts.

“Yes, son. How are –”

“What happened to grandma? Where’s she?”

“She had a stroke again, but seems this time, it’s more serious. She’s in Vine Hospital.”  The tone of her voice suggested that she’d either been crying or was about to. But I didn’t care.

“She wants to see you, as soon as you can make out time to come.” She said as I contemplated my buttons.

“I’ll see – ”

“She might not be here for long anymore. You should come quick.” Clara said.

“Okay, I’ll catch the next flight to Abuja.” I hung up without saying goodbye – and before she could say hers.

I didn’t need it.

 

*****

MANY MILES AWAY

I replaced the phone receiver and sighed. John noticed and came closer. He held my shoulders with both hands and planted a kiss on my forehead. “No worries. It’s not your fault.” He said.

“You don’t understand.” I shrugged off his hand.

“This is my son. He hates me!”

He took me closer in his arms as tears rolled down my cheeks.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Well, I hope one day, we settle our scores.”

C’est fini!

Again check up on Donut here.

Cheers,

Toluwanimi

HeirWalk 11 is out

Hey! I have had trouble getting good internet connection in the last few hours. I’ve finally gottent through. Let me drop this now before something else happens.

It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh profits nothing. The words that I speak to you are spirit, and they are life.

John 6:63 [NKJV]

Jesus said this of the words he spoke to his disciples while he was on earth. The same is true of all God’s words which he speaks today. Those impactful words will not return to Him void. As they created the world, they still make the things happen that He wants to happen, and they succeed in doing what He sends them to do.

HeirWalk 11 is out and it is available to you for free if you click the link below:

heirwalk 11

This february HeirWalk issue is tagged Inspirations.

Three of my writer friends will be sharing one thing from what the Lord has taught them since the year started. Like Isaiah, they will be providing soothing words to you from their bank of divine inspiration [Isaiah 50:4]. I hope that this will stimulate you to pay attention to God’s voice as he speaks to you daily. Read and be blessed.

I will put up another big post very soon!

Click on heirwalk 11 to download.

Cheers!

Toluwanimi

Everyman’s Conflict

conflictI used to know a man

Whose name was everyman

Everyman meant much to me

Simply because of all he could be

Everyman is born to be great

Everyman has a noble purpose

Everyman has a capacity to create

Perhaps that is what I sillily suppose?

Everyman likes what is good

Everyman lives in Neighbourhood

Yes, Everyman looks just like you

Or am I the one confusing you two?

It’s been long we parted ways

But I can still vividly picture his face

Conflict Stricken, afflicted always

Ever trying, never finding his place

Everyman is neither great nor good

Everyman is the most misunderstood

Though for everyman holds great hope

With his conflict I could no longer cope

That demon also known as Anyman [Mark 5:9]

Tormented me with his multi-attitude

Not until I knew a Saviour in Newman [2Cor 5:17]

Then did I understand this deadly dude

 

Now answer this riddle and stand a chance to win a great gift!

1.Who is Everyman?

2.What is Everyman’s conflict?

3.Who is Newman?

Send your answer via text or whatsapp to 07055911914 or email t.boyworldonline@yahoo.ca before November 30. You stand a chance to win a great book.

Author’s Notes: Every man desires to fulfill the purpose for which he/she was created. Unfortunately, not every man fulfills PURPOSE. Definitely, a man that would fulfill purpose must not be like every man-that’s exactly what this allegory* pictures. Everyman’s conflict talks about the challenge facing every man-that of fulfilling purpose. I hope I succeed in getting you confused with everyman’s conflict so that God can rediscover you to fulfill his purpose.

*allegory – the symbolic expression of a deeper meaning through a story or scene acted out by human, animal, or mythical characters.

 Written by Babarinsa Oluwatoba

I’m enjoying it: ‘The Future of Storytelling’ online course

My LifePlan ® Golden Text: 

See then that ye walk circumspectly…

-Apostle Paul’s letter to the body of Christ at Ephesus; the chapter V, XV-XVII

This phase of my life is the phase of learning! And as my school is on a compulsory break for four months now, I’m using the time to learn more on the Craft of Storytelling. I found a course online that’s helping with this. It started on 25th October, 2013 and runs for eight weeks. Absolutely Free [courses updated every Friday in video and other additional materials + quiz].

I’m enjoying it. *smiling*

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Are you interested in the mechanics of current fiction formats? Do you want to know how stories are told? Do you want to analyze, understand, contextualize and create stories and narratives? Then join the MOOC and share our passion for storytelling!

You can check on it here.

Cheers and Happy Weekend!

Joshua