All posts by Kwiksie

The full name's Okwukwe. I'm a born again Christian and absolutely love the platform to self-expression that writing provides---so, i write. I'm probably not the best critic...but i AM willing to learn where the lesson is a value additive. I'm highly fond of children, guitars, pepper, chocolate, and rainfall and i fancy myself a slightly unconventional romantic. ^_^So now you know.

What He Said…(Part 4)

  The place was set. Mrs. Tosin Daramola, Bola’s mother, had jokingly commented earlier that morning on how she wished Bola would go through so many pains to make her house look like it did for the party, on a regular basis. The decorations were mostly in soft colors; light yet very appealing as the … Continue reading What He Said…(Part 4)

What He Said…(Part 3)

“Guy, you’re making this thing too much of a big deal. Lola adores you; I’m sure she’ll come around.” Bola sighed, for what seemed to be the fiftieth time that afternoon. He had asked his four closest friends to meet with him to discuss some final details of the party arrangements—and also to calm his … Continue reading What He Said…(Part 3)

Tell God We Are His Children Too! (A Response)

@Omoniyi-Adeshola He never forgets His own. We forget by whom we are owned. When we mete out to Him irreverence, How then will suffering not blithe our existence? He was the willing sacrifice, such love cannot spring from a throne of ice. If we knew any better, we’d realise we are the reasons we suffer. … Continue reading Tell God We Are His Children Too! (A Response)

The Scars Sing

  Happy endings which weren’t meant to be— As they were considered by the majority. Teardrops trailing feeble steps Bottled up memories never to have been kept. Setting suns and crescent moons Never enough light present to lift the gloom. Droopy eyes, wearied from sights unpleasant, Overcrowded heart with tragedies as tenants.   The heaviest … Continue reading The Scars Sing

The Heart I Once Called Home…

  It’s been too long and my heart is a witness So my running open-armed towards you ought be blamed on joy and not fitness. Through the crystal-like film veiling my eyes, you see why my words are few. But instead of mirroring my actions you expose me to a loook which ought replace a … Continue reading The Heart I Once Called Home…

Before The End Began…

  There’s more to me than this, Beyond this robotic form. This, by nature, is deformed. Over the clueless groping with shackled arms, There lies something greater Than everything that never was.   And there i sit in the center of it all.   The conclusion birthed my origin And this determined before from the … Continue reading Before The End Began…

The Runner

Chinwe loved people and was equally loved. Her dark skin, delicate features, bright eyes and keen intelligence made her a composite of beauty. Her modest fifteen-year old world was picture perfect until that night when the news came that her father had been killed by a hit-and-run driver. It was barely two weeks to her … Continue reading The Runner