Posts Tagged ‘United States’


Olamide Craig is a friend, a brother, and a great man of God without all the airs, the falsehood, and the half truths.

I saw this post this morning from a link off Twitter, and I just knew I had to share. Hope it blesses you as much as it blessed me.

Olamide is @RevDrCraig on Twitter if you want to get in touch.

Love, light, and God’s great blessings,



Tonight, I want to stand with a friend of mine on a thorny issue. Pornography.  A vast number of Christians are struggling with various forms of online porn. A friend talked to me about his struggle, and as I listened to him share his story, I smiled. I smiled because it reminded me of my own struggle.

So tonight, I want to share with you my story, not his. Its easy for preachers to tell other peoples stories. But how about ours?

I picked up my first Playboy™magazine when I was in primary school. I flipped through the pages with a combination of curiosity and disinterest. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. But a seed had been sown, and its roots would take hold of the soil of my soul to bud much later in my adolescence. By the time I was a teenager, I was familiar with all the American, British and French porn magazines. It was much harder then. There were no phones, there was no internet. You had to sneak around with glossy magazines and hope that no one knew that under the Good Housekeeping or Ebony magazine was Penthouse or Oui or Nuts. All this while I was a committed believer, I did all I could to please the Lord, but I still had this one issue.

And then one day, I got called to leadership in my secondary school fellowship and went from Usher to President. I was sure God had made a mistake. Surely there were others better than me.  I tried to stop, I wanted to fulfill my role as President with a clear conscience. The harder I tried, the deeper I fell. Ministry was great. Souls were being saved. The fellowship was growing. Lives were being transformed, still I was stuck. Mind you, it wasn’t all consuming at the time. I’d probably steal a glance once or twice a month but the guilt that followed was like a crushing stone that stayed on my shoulder and stuck wt me for months and months; it didn’t matter if I hadn’t touched a magazine in months. I always carried around a sense of guilt and shame.In between I would be fine. All would seem perfect in my life again. Then one glance would bring it all crashing down. I won a temporary battle while I was in SS3. Hadn’t slipped for months. I realize now that I was too busy with WAEC  

Then we passed out of high school. I had handed over the ministry. There was no more need to be accountable…and the passions came back like a vengeance.  Before University, I did JAMB 5 times and in that period of depression and hopelessness, pornography became my escape; what had once been a once a month slip became a daily obsession.  Just before my 5th JAMB, I remember going to the roof of Anglican Church on 21 road in Festac and crying out to God. My life was in a mess and I desperately needed him to show up and sort me out. And I remember God telling me how much he loved me and how he had great plans for me. How will I ever make it I asked. All my mates were in school, I was still at home. My faith was a mess. I was a mess. And I heard words that I would NEVER forget. “Stop trying to fix it on your own, my grace is sufficient for you”  

Within that year, I joined FECA where I got my faith on track, passed JAMB, and got into the University of Ibadan. The things I learnt that year became the basis of the ministry I founded when I was just a 21 year old 100L student. Dianoia Foundation and Club Chayil over the past 11 years have since preached the message of sexual purity to thousands  

How did I break free from pornography? All I needed to do was let the Holy Spirit help me.  

The biggest mistake Christians make is trying to use discipline or strong will to keep away from sin. It NEVER works. Sin will always have the upper hand if combated in the flesh. Only GRACE through the Holy Spirit can win over sin  

Second I had to refuse to elevate that one sin above any others. The devil tries to make us feel one sin is worse… and so for as long as I hadn’t viewed porn, I could lie and be unchristian in so many other ways but wouldn’t feel it simply because I had hinged my acceptance in Gods eyes on whether I had viewed porn or not. The Holy Spirit taught me that in his sight, all Sin was as bad as the next. Murder. Lust. Lies. Same thing!  Once I learnt godly sorry for ALL my sins whether they were lustful or not, I realised how truly sinful I was and it was here that righteousness made sense to me. Jesus told me he had forgiven ALL my sins, and given me a new robe. I was righteous not because of what I had done, or didn’t do, but because of what he had done.  

Finally, SIN THRIVES IN SECRECY! If you want to be free you have to open up and let the light in. Tell someone!  Find a mature Christian and tell them your struggle. It’s one of the most important steps on your road to recovery. If you keep it hidden, it will grow. If you bring it out of the darkness, it will die. I promise you. Trust me!  Same goes for fornication and adultery. Expose the sin and it will wither conceal it and it will grow  

I’ve shared this so that you can know that YOU ARE NOT ALONE! There is help for you in God and he has not abandoned you  God bless you tweet fam!  

Thank you to all those who DM’d to share their struggle or to ask for prayer or to just say thanks… The feedback has been phenomenal.

Someone asked me how my journey’s been. “Has it been plain sailing since you started preaching sexual purity?”  It would be so easy to say that I’ve never touched the stuff again and strut around in a toga of self righteousness. Let me tell you as it is! This is a lifelong battle. There is no quick fix. There’s no magic wand. Once lust has occupied a room in your heart in the past, he will ALWAYS come back to see if there’s a spare room and when he comes back, you bet he’s come with family and friends and he’s gonna ask for the penthouse suite  

I thought it was a war that I had won once and for all. That I had defeated that enemy and he was finished. Your freedom has to be fought for daily. What you won was one battle. There is still a long war.  

I’m still fighting and wining my battle against porn. Its a tough one and sometimes I am valiant, sometimes I am not.  And you best believe that its so much easier to access porn now than it was when I won my first battle. I remember burning all my Playboy™mags with great fanfare ☺ No one buys Playboy magazines anymore. Porn is now online; no need to hide in a corner with a bulky magazine, or hide stacks of old issues under your mattress. One click and boom

But there is GOOD NEWS! The power that rescued me then is still potent enough to rescue me now. Hallelujah! And if you let Him, he can rescue you too.  

Lust is not gender specific folks. He destroys as many men as he does women. Don’t let the enemy fool you into thinking you’re the only one! YOU ARE NOT ALONE!  

Same goes for masturbation, fornication, adultery. YOU ARE NOT ALONE! Sin thrives in secrecy. Break the yoke. Be free!  Jesus died for all your sins including this one. His blood has cleansed you. Take your stand daily. This war can be won  

God bless you twit fam! Have a blessed day.

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Originally posted on menoword:

Menoword’s note: I follow an incredible minister called Rev Craig and he posted some tweets yesterday night that impacted me very deeply. I got his kind permission to put all his tweets together and create a blog post. The only editing I have done is to remove the words “young men” from the second sentence in the post. Please read this post with an open heart, I hope that it will bless you. And don’t think that this only relates to porn – I learned many of these lessons while struggling with financial responsibility – it applies across the board to anything that anyone might be struggling with and also contains wonderful lessons on generally living a victorious Christian life. You can find Rev Craig on Twitter @RevDrCraig or check out his blog at 



Tonight, I want to stand with a friend of…

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Well, part one to this tale is here.

I wasn’t sure what documents I needed for this ‘interview’ to renew my Nigerian passport (renew o, not get a brand new one) so I took all the documents I had confirming my citizenship. I had to go off my route to retrieve some documents from a friend, and then it was off to the Embassy.

Got there, and I was told at the door that I needed to get a postal order worth £20 from the Post Office. Why didn’t anyone say this before? Mention or even hint at it? Online or the day I filled out the forms? Why?

Fortunately I didn’t need any form of transportation to get there but it was freezing, and was time I could have saved to be honest.

I got back from getting it, and because I already had a ‘number’, I sat down and watched a woman try in vain to control her four young boys whose favorite word in the whole wide world (and response to every request, directive, or scolding) was ‘NO’. I chuckled over and over.

Multiple cold repellents (read as hot chocolate) meant I needed to pee, and so to the conveniences I went. Full stop, but I took pictures.

IMAG0135 IMAG0136

No comment.

Must have spent an hour and then it was my turn to be ‘interviewed’. Got to the counter and they just confirmed I had paid the application fee, collected the postal order and form, and asked me to go sit down and wait to be ushered upstairs for biometric capturing.

Huh? What happened to the ‘interview’? What of the documents I’d been told I needed to convince Nigeria I was Nigerian? I needed to justify the dossier I’d hauled from home. The man said, “you don’t need them”, and then called out the next number. I wanted to say something, but then I reminded myself that I am a daughter of Zion, said thank you (didn’t believe I had one in me) and went to sit.

Started blogging (obviously) till I heard an argument getting louder and decided to listen (how else would I have this story for you?)

This lady had filed out an application, but didn’t have her old passport. Where was it Missy? She said officials collected it from her at the airport because it was expired. Huh? That’s not normal now is it? The more probable thing is you won’t be allowed to fly in the first instance, or you’ll be turned back at the point of entry.

Madam didn’t want to hear that she needed her old passport or some documentation to be able to get a new one. And so there was a lot of yelling, “do you know who I am” thrown about, all of that drama. Of course that meant that my reading/blogging gave way to tatafo. I started thinking too, who did she think was 5 years old there? What did she mean by officials collected it from her? Which officials? And she walked away from them quietly after they collected it? O da.

I got called for my biometrics, went upstairs, and while I waited, I saw the Dame on TV, leading some prayer session. No I didn’t watch, I just took a couple of pictures.

2013-12-17 12.31.01

They prayed, they sang…fill in the blanks…

Got my photo and prints captured and I was asked to come back in two weeks. Sigh.

The End.

Update – I went in on the day and after waiting for about 30 minutes, collected the passport of life and destiny. And I hear I got it easier than most. Either way, I’m grateful!

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Recently I’ve found that I get super inspired when I read/watch people who are doing great things despite peculiar circumstances. First it was the Maysoon Zayid video and the story of how she’s done pretty much everything she’s wanted to do, despite cerebral palsy.

Beyond the inspiration, it’s a stark reminder of how grateful I am (and should be) for the mercies I have received, and a motivation to not only use what I’ve got even more judiciously, but also to think and act more kindly towards others every chance I get.

On to the inspiration for the day! I was invited to watch a video of a man who has a PhD in law. He has represented people in court (duh), plays the piano, and is blind. Why did I leave what seems like a pretty important detail to the end? Why wasn’t his blindness the first thing I mentioned?

Well simply because Dr Ife Akintunde doesn’t see blindness as a disability. He believes that “everyone on earth has to meet challenges or their spirits will die”. He says we all have little challenges we have to surmount to succeed (or fail) in life and being unable to see from birth is his. Simple.

Ready to watch the rest of it yourself? Go on then!

Soon after I saw the video you’ve just seen, I was introduced to Sorbarikor Lebura, the brain/producer behind that documentary (directed by Dapo Oshinaike). Sorbarikor is a Nigerian, passionate about telling the stories of people living with different disabilities and has the long term dream of influencing policies in Nigeria that will  make the circumstances, living conditions, and accessibility of these people a lot better than what it is at the moment.

I decided to be a part of telling those stories, and can very proudly announce that this documentary has been shortlisted in AfriNolly’s Short Film Competition. The winning entries for film and documentary receive $25, 000 which will go a long way in getting this project/charity off the ground.

We just need you to vote! How do you do that?

1. Go here – Afrinolly Short Film Competition

2. It’ll ask you to sign in via Facebook or Google Plus (I’ve checked it a couple times now and it doesn’t save your login data. So that’s not a worry.

Click on vote for documentary

3. Click on vote for documentary

4. Blind aspiration should be on the bottom left corner. If it’s not, it’s on the page sha.

Vote o!! Press your hand on the 'umblerra' (You have to be Nigerian to understand that). Seriously sha, vote! Thank you!

Vote o!! ‘Pless’ your hand on the ‘umblerra’ (You have to be Nigerian to understand that). Seriously sha, vote! Thank you!

If you’re interested in volunteering with this project in any way, and have ideas on how Sorbarikor and the rest of his team can move forward with this, please leave a comment and I’ll make sure he comes on to respond.

Thank you, and enjoy the rest of your week!

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Alkasim was my neighbour at the BBC World Service Trust in Abuja, and shortly before I left the country, he became my boss. It’s not the fact that he is wise beyond his years, it’s not the fact that he’s a journalist of international repute, it’s not even the fact that his knowledge of history always sends me to Wikipedia (earning me the nickname ‘Wiki kenan); it’s the fact that Alkayy is perhaps the most down-to-earth person I’ve ever met.

I would go on, but before I tempt that humility we all love him for, I present my neighbour, Alkayy!

My name is Alkasim Abdukadir, I am fiercely Nigerian. I work as an international freelance journalist in Nigeria, and the link to my most recent piece for African Arguments is here.

I have always known that after all trials and tribulations light will always come at dawn; this Hausa saying is even more blunt -Bayan wuya sai dadi -loosely translated to mean that after the hardship comes enjoyment.

In retrospect this year though, I came to understand that in the end everything will fall into place, not necessarily the way we want but somehow we will get by.

It is amazing what the human mind can endure/ how challenging the times can get. It is doubly tragic that people can let you down, just because they can, to show their god-complex – from family members to friends to bosses and those whose loyalty really matters.

A family member was out of work for two years, because he lost out in office politics, and it became imperative for me to stand-up and support his dependents not because I am the most conscientious person or the most wealthy, not even because I treasure family, but because it was the right thing to do. I must confess when the  requests came sometimes it was not only heart breaking but also debilitating; the thought of what people in this country go through. Imagine this sms: “Please send us money, we are out of food again, we are cooking the last grains this afternoon”.

How could a mid-level manager end up like this? Life and Nigeria happened, I say.

And then imagine the times, when my paycheck was delayed, the untold misery it caused at the other end was just unthinkable.

This is just one of several episodes of need that surrounded one this year.

I am grateful that in the end, succour came in the form of a new job and a new lease of life for my family member; though pressure still persists from other quarters, the biggest hurdle had been crossed. I am grateful that I didn’t falter nor flee when I was most needed. That I remained resolute, even though it was hard, that I shared of my heart when it mattered most.

If I had another chance to do it again, I would do exactly the same, just that this time I would go a notch higher, because light always comes at dawn.

Dapper!!! Whoop!!!

Dapper!!! Whoop!!!

Vote for my neighbour’s article please!

I figure it is no longer news that I was in Nigeria for my beloved auny’s funeral. When I was ready to leave, I was billed to fly on the 26th, and I had a ticket (duh, lol). On the day, I got to the airport, shout out to Ace for instilling the ‘check-in at home’ culture in me. Anyways, so I got to the airport, my father’s friend helped me with my luggage, and I went to board, heart-broken at leaving Boo Boo (as always). By the way, he’s such a big boy now, the proud owner of a hefty collection of words! He says ‘mama, papa, aunty (whoop), m-e-e m-e-e (leave me), no (for some reason he shouts it, can’t just say it), te te (thank you), and eeya(sweet, heartwarming sound he makes when he gives hugs). My boy is the cutest, smartest, geezer on earth! And he’s exactly fifteen months old today!

Anyway, so I boarded, walked to the economy section and my seat, and there was a lady sat in it. I wasn’t surprised, I’d been told that Lufthansa had network issues so the officials had written out seat numbers. I greeted the lady and said in my nicest voice that she was in my seat and if she had the same seat number. She put on an American accent (I say put on because as I walked up to her she was speaking Igbo to someone on the phone) and said she couldn’t have been in the wrong seat.

The natural next thing to do would be to produce your boarding ticket right? Well she started rummaging through her bag, and err, it seemed like she couldn’t find it. She asked to see mine. I showed her and then she said, “this is my seat, they probably made a mistake with the allocation”. I, innocently thinking that she was reasoning with me (bear in mind she was obviously much older than my ‘humble’ self), said, “yes, surely they have. Have you found your pass?”

Then she goes (in a slightly louder voice), ” I wasn’t lying about being allocated this seat, I’m an American citizen; I just can’t find my boarding pass.” Immediately I was disgusted. Americans don’t lie? What does being American have to do with a ‘blaady’ seat? I just turned and walked away, met a hostess and explained (kicking myself for spending so much time bandying words with the ‘American’). The hostess apologised, admitted stuff was crazy because of the network issues and said she’d sort me out.

While I was waiting, I rang my folks to tell them, and God bless them, they said they wouldn’t go to bed till I was seated, regardless of anything I said. Daddy said I was going to get upgraded, but I was so tired I would have happily shared space with my luggage, and I didn’t want to raise my hopes for nothing.

Anyway, so I waited a bit and then the hostess came back and asked, “how many of you?” Lol, in my mind i thought, ‘just in case I have another human being in my handbag abi?” I smiled though and said it was just me, then she asked me to follow her, and boom!! Business class baby! Whoop!

I learned something – most times people will be nicer to you if you smile at them. ‘Most’ because smiles and niceties don’t work on some people, like the American who cannot lie!


P:S – Boo Boo knows even more words, he’s actually stringing proper sentences together now! I rang and when my sister put him on the phone, he said, ‘to˙ te tor’ (shut the door). I love you Boo Boo!


People who know me know I love stories, fiction or real. I love listening to folk tales (God bless my Momma for never leaving me starved of them), real life experiences (my father is a rock star with that), and tales derived from my interactions with people.

Don’t get it twisted though, I detest lies and liars  (they are definitely not the same thing). But, I love stories, and I love deriving them from places I’ve visited, people I’ve met, and generally from experiences I feel will benefit the next man.

Professionally, I can create stories from scratch, or from user-generated content. Am I brilliant? Yes (with all the shards of modesty I’ve got left). Heck, one of my most fulfilling roles was working on a radio drama series for the BBC called Story Story! Am I selling myself? You bet! If I don’t, who will? Lol.

Seriously though, storytelling was one of the reasons I started this blog… Go to my About page for the very first story!

Ok, so I was speaking to my Momma on Monday, and she was telling me of a wedding she’d attended with my father over the weekend. Speaking of weddings, this past week their marriage clocked 33. Boom! They’ve been married to each other for 33 years and not once have they ‘taken a break’, ‘separated for a bit’, ‘been apart to evaluate the relationship’, or any of the excuses our generation gives for walking away from vows they’ve made to each other. God help us!!

Back to Momma now, she told me a story the Reverend who joined the couple told in his sermon, all about admonishing the couple to be true and open with each other. Ready for it?  A couple had been  married for quite a bit, and then they moved to a new community. By their house there was a nice spread of chubby mushrooms and the couple didn’t know if they were poisonous or not. One day, this couple decided they would serve their dog the mushrooms and if nothing happened to it, then they would cook for themselves.

On the day appointed, they cooked the mushrooms, and fed the dog the first helping. They were watching it but it seemed fine, playing about. Second helping? Dog seemed better than ever. Third helping? Even better! They figured the mushrooms were fine so they cooked and had a little feast!

Later that even their dog all but crawled into their compound, wincing in pain and making sounds that were clearly not of joy or rejoicing. Then it curled up in one of the corner, and lay still. The couple was shocked! They were going to die!

Quickly, they went inside, and as it were, started putting their house in order to die. All of a sudden, the man said he had something to tell his wife. Teary eyed, she asked what it was. He said that he wanted to confess some stuff to her, and started talking about affairs he’d denied in the past and how they really happened.

When he was just about done talking, she said she had a bit to confess too, and started telling him the real fathers of four out of their five children.

She was on the story of the third child when a neighbour knocked on the door. Frowning at being disturbed, they told the neighbour to go and come back, but this neighbour was insistent on being heard. They let him in and he said he came to see how their dog was doing.

“What’s your business with our dog?”, man and wife were irritated but curious.

Their neighbour replied, “Well, I was working in my garden and a goat was eating the tomatoes I was harvesting so I threw a stone at it. It missed the goat but hit your dog and from the way it screamed, I knew it was hurt. I tried to go near it but it barked at me so I said I would come and tell you people, see how it is doing”.

The end. (of a lot of things obviously)!

Moral of the story? You tell  me! And while you’re at it, say a big thank you to my Momma!

Related articles

So I saw this article on a friend’s blog and it spoke to me so much I knew I wanted to have it in a place I’d be able to retrieve and show my daughter easily.

To be honest I loved Miley Cyrus as Hannah Montana and her roles in all those little high school movies they made not more than three-to-five years ago. She was adorable, like the teen version of Jennifer Aniston, America’s sweetheart.

This Lil Kim/Rihanna/Lady Gaga wannabe is not only one of the sharpest transformations I’ve seen, one of the most disgusting (however successful), but it is befuddling. How does someone work SO HARD to create a dirty image of themselves?

Anyway, before this becomes a full post in itself, enjoy the one that inspired it.



Dear daughter, let Miley Cyrus be a lesson to you.

I made a decision this morning, and that is to be very rich. Mind you, I have always wanted to be rich, but this morning I decided on a new course of action to achieve that goal. I am going to get into public office (currently working on schematics) and then I will do one thing – plunder like there is no tomorrow.

I will award contracts to phony companies set up in different variations of my name and the names of my family members, and to my friends as soon as they sign over a minimum of 30% of the contract sum to me. Whether they deliver or not is immaterial, and I can always look good from making a big show of threatening to revoke said contracts when I’m up for a second or third term.

Ahh! I will give personal gifts using public funds, including cars, landed property, trips abroad, livestock, you name it – all that matters is that I’m seen as generous, loving, and supportive. Doesn’t matter that basic amenities in the areas under my jurisdiction are non-existent or dilapidated, that the people whose votes (whether real or stolen) put me in that office are impoverished, or whether I cannot even bear to live in my place of primary assignment because of the alarming level of crime that I have done sod all about. I will give gifts on behalf of my family and myself to whosoever I please, and I won’t give a damn what you think.

Why won’t I give a damn? Errr, because apart from craft cleverly worded tweets and Facebook updates, you don’t do much else. Matter of fact, I can count a good number of your activist peers who pay me nocturnal tea visits, hoping for a slice of national cake to go with it.

Why don’t I give a damn? Let’s see… right. Another reason is because traditional rulers, who should be the custodians of our culture, teachers of right and wrong, and role models for the community, have made camp with political parties that best serve their interests regardless of ideology.

Long as you use the creamiest butter on their bread, doesn’t matter if you’re a rogue, murderer, or pedophile. I’ve been advised that once I’m in that office, they will flock to me, begging to give me chieftaincy titles. And I will accept, because I am an illustrious son of the soil.

You know the biggest reason why I don’t care though? The more wealth I amass, the more immune to prosecution I become. Ahh, there are even some offices I can occupy where something called the ‘immunity clause’ posits that I am above the law.

A thousand blessings to the brains that enacted and ratified that law, it is one of the reasons I aspire to public office. For all the enemies of progress who at one time or the other tried to campaign against that clause, it will not be well with you!

Now, in the event that I offend someone higher up who decides to embarrass with a robbery/fraud accusation, I can decide to engage my army of thugs to fight off the Policemen who dared to try to arrest me, or simply flee to another country to escape prosecution. If the odds are stacked against me and the Police there get a hold of me too, I can post bail, and then escape!! Yes, flee that evil land either dressed as a woman, a circus animal, or inside a drum of oil.

There’s no place like home. I’ll return knowing fully well that after a few days of talking about me and my triumphant entry from my sojourn abroad, they’ll move on to ‘fighting corruption’ in other quarters. And the icing on the cake?

A few years of laying low, bowing at strategic shrines, rebuilding my profile, and of course showing remorse, and I get a presidential pardon! Glory! My slate is wiped clean, and I am free to vie for office again to finish what I started, serving my country with all my strength.

Background reading

Presidential pardon sparks outrage & Nigeria pardons Goodluck Jonathan ally

P:S – originally posted on the Future Challenges site on the 20th of March 2013.

Welcome to the third and concluding part of the ‘That Irish Weekend’ series; parts one and two are here and here. 

Before I go on, I think (read as I know) I would do well as a travel writer, I just can’t help moving around! For me sometimes I think the buzz lies in the fact that ‘oh I’m going somewhere’; mode of transportation, accommodation don’t really count (even though I have a low threshold for inconveniencing myself, lol), the joy is in the ‘movement’. So this is me putting myself out, need someone to explore a destination? Hola!!

Back to my weekend. Had a massive breakfast (whoop), and then it was time to head out to visit St Valentine‘s shrine. Matter of fact, one of the greatest incentives for this trip was finding out I would be able to pray at his Shrine, especially in this month of love! We set off for Whitefriar Street Carmelite Church, and it’s such a magnificent building! Truth is Dublin has loads of ancient buildings, and I’m always, always at home in such places. It feels like there’s so much history in the air, so much to explore, to learn, and to encounter! Found this site with a bit of additional reading on St Valentine

We got in, and I lit a candle, said a prayer, wrote a prayer, and then….. took pictures! Don’t even scrunch your nose or anything, it’s a major tourist site, and how else would I convince you I was there?

Writing a prayer request.... St Valentine pray for us!

Writing a prayer request…. St Valentine pray for us!

Lighting a candle for my family....

Lighting a candle for my family….

Pious mode, there was so much to be amazed by, was just in awe!

Pious mode, there was so much to be amazed by, was just in awe!

This box contains a tinge of St Valentine's blood!!! Awesome!!!

This box contains a tinge of St Valentine’s blood!!! Awesome!!!

View of one of the shrines....

View of one of the shrines….

Not really sure who's on the sides but I know that's Jesus crucified in the middle....

Not really sure who’s on the sides but I know that’s Jesus crucified in the middle….

After a very fulfilling time at the church, we set off to find a place to watch the Nigeria vs Cote d’Ivoire African Cup of Nations (AFCON) match. Went to a spot called the living room but they were charging €5 entry. Why on earth? The day before Ireland played rugby, wonder how much they would have charged then, SMH. We went back to The Woolshed Baa and Grill, and had a really lovely platter of nachos with guacamole, cheese, and chili! Then we watched the match, and the Super Eagles did us proud!!! We won!! Whoop!! 2-1!!

Didn’t make it to the Guinness Storehouse in time for the final admission so I didn’t get to the tour, sigh. I wasn’t too upset though because even though I’m never chuffed by football, it was great to watch our boys play, and win! If we had lost I would have been livid.

I took some pictures outside sha, and like one of the staff told us, it’s an excuse to visit again!!

At Guinness Storehouse, was trying to form vex...

At Guinness Storehouse, was trying to form vex…

Covering my face in mock anger, how could we have missed last admissions?

Covering my face in mock anger, how could we have missed last admissions?

Honestly? Don't know what I was saying here....

Honestly? Don’t know what I was saying here….

Fine gyal!! Bombaclat!!

Fine gyal!! Bombaclat!!

Aha!!! Saw this store, apparently Primark in the UK is Penney's in Ireland!

Aha!!! Random photo – Saw this store, apparently Primark in the UK is Penney’s in Ireland!

I have quite a few more pictures from this trip o, I think at last count they were about 300, but I understand that your purpose for existence is not to look at pictures (lol) so I did 10 per post. Just had to say that.

I’m grateful for a peaceful, extra productive weekend, for finances, safe travels, food, good health, and for privileges I don’t deserve, but enjoy. God is good to me. I must also thank Teju for the awesome pictures, and for showing and taking me around. You rock!

Next trip? Not sure yet, but you’ll be the first to know!

Hello you!! So we’re on to the second part of the series covering my weekend in Ireland, first bit of that trip is here.

Saturday morning, I had Cheerios for breakfast; been a long time I had that! Breakfast these days is an assortment of whole wheat cereal, nuts, and dried bananas. By the way, I can’t stand raisins, and I pick out each and every one from my Fruit and Fibre pack; each and every one!

Had a very productive morning writing, reading, editing – something very big is happening at the end of March and I’m coordinating quite a bit of the back-end work, thank God for strength, and a wonderful business partner. In other news, stuff is still ongoing but there have been some major changes to – go have a look! And get in touch if you need anything, ok?

Then, I went to the Zoo!!! Whoop!!! This is where this post gets mega interesting, because we’re going to be looking at some pictures next! Whoop!

The iguana!!! I should get one of these as a pet.... not!

The iguana!!! I should get one of these as a pet…. not!

I really like this picture....

I really like this picture….

One word - boss!!!!

One word – boss!!!!

Very funny poster... Thought it was only us humans who made posters like this...

Very funny poster… Thought it was only us humans who made posters like this…

Oya check o! Who's your closest cousin?

Oya check o! Who’s your closest cousin?

What was this wild deer doing amongst the giraffes? Talk about mistaken identity!!!

What was this wild deer doing amongst the giraffes? Talk about mistaken identity!!!

Don't remember the name of this bird, just know it really really reallly looked somehow....

Don’t remember the name of this bird, just know it really really reallly looked somehow….

Elephants didn't stop poking at their food, didn't even give us a show.... *sigh*

Elephants didn’t stop poking at their food, didn’t even give us a show…. *sigh*

Of course I had my moleskin, I was making notes! How else would this blog post cover everything?

Of course I had my moleskin, I was making notes! How else would this blog post cover everything?

After a very lovely day... Was tired, and the sun was in m already itchy eyes....

After a very lovely day… Was tired, and the sun was in m already itchy eyes….

Don’t worry, I’ll upload the rest of my pictures to Flickr, and then embed them here so you can see everything in it’s original size. Shout out to Teju for taking the uber awesome pictures!

Went to Woolshed Baa and Grill afterwards, had steak and mash. Was great but I’ve definitely had better – Angus Steakhouse on Oxford street is just one of those fabulous places for steak!!

Got home, passed out (was stuffed). Meant of course that I didn’t get to sleep till almost 5am but I didn’t care, I’d had an awesome, peaceful, extra interesting day!