art, Love, poetry


Endi stared out from her overpriced college dorm room, she had cried so much she had no more tears in her, so she just stared. Jon Bellion played loudly from her laptop and her neighbors had yelled “Turn down the volume Endi!” but she didn’t care. Her whole world had been unraveled before her eyes yesterday.

She told her self she was never going to leave her room ever again. Then her phone rang. Nkem, her friend called but she just let it ring, getting used to the rhythmic iPhone ringtone.



The seven am alarm rang and Endi opened her eyes. For a brief moment she was at peace, not recalling the events of the past two days. But then suddenly it hit her, she realized she had slept off on the ground clutching his old dog tag to her chest. She checked her phone and found three voice mails; one from her mom, one from Nkem and one from Osi her other friend. She wasn’t going to call anyone back, she needed more time alone —and then she saw a text from Ore which she replied:



And so she sat there and she screamed and she cried for hours.  She picked up her phone so many times in an attempt to text him, to beg him to take her back but each time, she found a reason not to.

She knew this cycle would not end, so she deleted his number, unfollowed him on social media and cried some more. She re-read their last conversation for the fiftieth time, hoping she miss read it. “It’s over.” She kept on reading that part as if it was going to change. But deep down she knew they were done for good this time.


By noon she was numb once again, she told herself he had left because she was not as beautiful as other girls, couldn’t do the things other girls could, she had somehow managed to convince herself that she was a lesser person, that she was broken, damaged and unlovable—and that was the reason he left, she began to tell herself that she was lucky he even stayed for as long as he did, that he put up with her bullshit for over a year but time had ran its course and her fairytale had come to an end.


Several lonely hours had passed and it was evening now, she had gotten tired of crying, she hadn’t eaten in nearly two days and she felt like she was falling ill, as she stared into the darkness she realized feeling sorry for herself wasn’t going to do her any good. So she took his dog tag and locked it somewhere she wouldn’t be tempted to look for it—then she did something she hadn’t done in a while. She got on her knees and talked to God. She cried to him, begged him, to make her forget her pain, to help her grow into the woman she desired to be. One who would grow in Christ, who would live a happy life, with no regrets.  And then she realized he left because he couldn’t understand that she was this enigmatic, dynamic whirlwind that just couldn’t be understood, she always had several strong emotions that rolled up into her personality and not everyone could handle that and that was fine– it was then she knew that she would be fine, maybe not that day, but eventually she would be okay.


A piece by Ekpeju Ogbemi.

art, God, Love, poetry


I’ve loved and I’ve lost,

I looked beyond the pines,

I thought I had, I thought I was full,

But that was just an illusion.

Brought about by my selfish thoughts,

I guess I wasn’t as good as I thought,

I guess life after all wasn’t a bed of roses but a long chain of challenges, an unbreakable cycle.


I wanted to be more,

I wanted more,

But it was never enough,

It’s never enough,

For the more you get, the more you want and the more you need.

I used every rule, every trick, in the book of life and yet it wasn’t enough, I wasn’t able to control it, I lost myself, I lost it.


I found hope though in the smallest parts of my humanity,

In the thought of making heaven,

In the thought of being with you,

In the thought of finding myself,

In That single thought, I found hope,

I found my self,

And with my last breath, I’ll hold on to it.

I will.

art, Lifestyle, travel

Seeking Touch: The Writer’s Edition (Lolu)

I left Lagos in a rush, like a vicious criminal. I was determined, electric and scared. Although there were feelings of excitement to be away from home, from the hands of strict-demanding parents or the troubles of the younger siblings, to be out on your own. I recall, packing was hella stressful, but I got away with it. I left Lagos with unanswered questions.

I arrived in the foreign land in the early hours of the day, with feelings of loneliness, tired and unwelcoming environment. Excitement and the bubbly part of me began draining out completely. I was already missing home, missing the ever noisy environment of Nigeria, missing the welcoming, loud and sarcastic voices of my people. I began crying inside, feeling nostalgic, but I wasn’t going to give up. I have to get past this path in life. But then I had to cry out, when it dawned on me that ‘This is home for some few years’ I really feel bad and awkward calling this surrounding, this area ‘HOME’ because its nothing next to it.

At School, It wasn’t easy adapting, it wasn’t easy, I repeat, all new faces, meeting people of various skin colours, different languages spoken under one roof, different ways of interacting, it was scary. I’m an introvert, I’m cultured, of Nigerian heritage, a traditional person. Socialising is not my thing, I love making new friends, but it takes me a while. I have to study you. This change was not easy, again with the ‘easy’ word. When i got here, all students were saying to the teachers ‘HI’, ‘HELLO’ , I was dumbfounded, I was shocked, I  just froze at the instant and smiled at the teacher when she looked my way, ‘HOW RUDE’ I said in my head. This is a TABOO.  This as an ABOMINATION. As i was still deeply grounded on my ‘Good-morning Ma/Sir’.

*From Leaving Lagos, an exciting story by Pelumi Opeodu that deals with race, ethnicity and diversity in a new environment.

Hi, I’m just an African Lady from the west, one of Nigeria’s great and blossoming youth, I am ‘OLAOLUWAPELUMI TITILAYO OPEODU’ a special and unique angel.



I love to write because it serves as a medium to express what goes on in my inner self, my thoughts and my experiences and finally, my love for literature.


Feel free to check out Pelumi’s blog to see what’s new, by clicking here.

Happy Independence xx

art, God, Uncategorized

Seeking Touch: The Writer’s Edition (Jam)


By Jamilla Dambo.

When you hear the word fear, what comes to your mind? Do you imagine yourself in a dark room with ghosts lurking at each corner of your shoulders? Do you imagine yourself at the top of a very steep cliff about to fall? Or do you even imagine yourself drowning in a river knowing that you’re just a new meal to sharks?

A teacher asked me one day, “Do you have any fears?”

And I responded, “Not any I can think of now”.

But after that brief moment with him, I thought to myself:

“I’m afraid to lose who I am now”.

This got me thinking and I decided not to allow such fear stop me from being who I am and even greater. As a result, I always try to remember who I am, where I’m going and what I want to achieve because I believe that I am who God says I am.

Fear means a lot of things to different people. According to the Oxford Dictionary of English, fear is an unpleasant emotion caused by the threat of danger, pain, or harm. It is a feeling of unease that can lead to a panic attack and in worse cases, even death.

The Bible emphasizes on fear a lot because it is a force that can hinder progress and more than anything, the Lord wants us to grow in all areas of our life. It has been noticed that the phrase “Do not be afraid” (or “Fear not” in some versions) have been mentioned 365 times to use for the 365 days in a year. That’s enough comfort for one day.

Having said all these, does it mean we aren’t supposed to get scared at times? I mean, we are humans after all. It’s in our being. The most important thing is what you do next after you get scared. Do you run away from the problem or face it because depending on you, F.E.A.R can mean two things: to Fear Everything And Run or to Face Everything And Rise. When you choose the latter, you’ll notice that you can overcome your fears and become stronger and wiser.



Hello, I’m Jamilla and I’m in my first year at Carleton University, Ottawa.


I am studying Civil Engineering. I finished my Secondary School education in Nigeria and took one year off to take additional grade 12 courses online at the Canada E-School in accordance with the Canadian system of education in order to be well-equipped for my first year in the university.

I am a believer in Jesus Christ and I will also share my experience with Him as well as tips on how to tap into his divine glory in order to excel in him.

I am always ready to give advice. Feel free to contact me by clicking  here

I believe as individuals, we all have a message to share. A message to tell the world. A message we can’t keep to ourselves. A message that’ll make people see things the way we do. At a very young age, I knew this but I didn’t know my “message”.  I knew it was there somehow and I knew I had so much to let the world know. Not until recently did I find it when I finally found a purpose for my life in Christ.

As a person, my goal is to reach as many people as possible to create a stronger force that can make this world a better place. This is my inspiration and writing is one of the means I use to achieve this goal.

Feel free to click here if you need any advice or click here for college survival tips.

art, poetry

Seeking Touch:The Writers Edition (OZ2)

This intense poem is by a brilliant Writer and Poet, Ozioma Iheagwam.


Feel free to check out her first post here.


Thoughts Of A Caged Tiger.

This is the situation. Thou shall escape. From the clutches of society, from the human expectations of family, from the meaningless goals of friends, from the mediocre wants of the body and soul, from the perceived normality of reality.

I have stirred a little in my sleep, amnesia is now a known force, I have a little bit of control, a little bit of understanding of my adaptive unconscious and it has created a monster.

A monster determined to be set free, to travel, to create beauty, to live, to learn, to create beauty, to live, to learn, to appreciate, to discover the true meaning of being alive, of having a heart beat, of falling in love with all of who I have become.


Ozioma Iheagwam.

Hi,  I’m 18 and I like to write because it’s exhilarating, and gives me an outlet to create.

2016-03-10 02.21.00 1.jpg



art, poetry

Seeking Touch: The Writers Edition (Oz)



Carpé Diem


Carpé Diem,
She said.
Get off your feet,
Feed your spiritual substantiality.
The end is almost
Coming to an end,
The truth has been brushed aside.
The demons have taken
Seats of high positions
The angels rot in graves.

Carpé Diem,
She said.
Throw away your bed
Feed your intellectual substantiality
The beginning has almost
Your competition has gone ahead.
You have crushed yourself
Under the rock,
The rock of worry.
You are never getting up,
Are you?
Carpe Diem indeed.


A poem by Ozioma I.

Hi,  I’m 18 and I like to write because it’s exhilarating, and gives me an outlet to create.

Feel free to check out her WordPress blog here.


Processed with VSCO


art, poetry

Seeking Touch: The Writers Edition (M).

This amazing poem is by my very own, Marioo .


Dear young boy
You’re scared you’re frightened
You want to cry
But the look on your aunty’s face “aren’t you a boy”
Makes you hold back the tears and cry at night.
You want to talk to daddy
You want him to teach you to play
But daddy’s always busy
Forgets your birthday
Dear teenage boy
You’re sad you’re frustrated
You’ve learnt that you cant cry
You’ll be rediculed & you cant even tell people why
Daddy beats you the slightest chance he gets
To express his frustration that you’re growing up
All you want to do is laugh with him
But he’s preoccupied with his knowledge and prestige
Dear newly turned adult boy
You’re a little hopeful
That as you’re now older
Maybe you’ll be enough for him
Maybe he’ll finally want to know what’s going on with you
Come to your room to talk things through
Share your views opposing or same
Argue them out and reach an equal ground
But he sees your opposing views as challenging him
He’s angered that you don’t think with his brain
His lack of love seeps through his words and actions
The hope you had increases the pain
Dear man
You’re indifferent & emotionless you don’t have any more hopes of a relationship with him
You don’t expect him to call
You wouldn’t know what to say, it’d be awkward
You never learnt how to love
Just pain, you were thought that expressive love is not for a man
The man you wanted to guide you through
Never took your hand
You’re grown now with no clue how to guide
Dear father
You’re lost and confused
You decided to do what your father did
Beat him up when you’re frustrated
Leave him to grow up alone
Your views are the only ones worthy of being known
Please remember the pain you went through
He is your son
We have to end this vicious cycle
Don’t let him hurt the way you did
Please please teach him how to love as he should.


Hi I’m Marie and I’m 17. I write to vent, to express myself and also because it’s amazing when I get to put my soul on paper.

A poem by Marie O xx.

art, God, Lifestyle, travel

Seeking Voyage: Europa

Hallo daar!

That’s Dutch for Hey there!

This is the first Seeking Voyage Post 🎉🎉🎉 And I’ll be telling you how I spent my weekend.

So I don’t know how many people have seen the movie Fault in our stars. I think a lot…? I don’t know, it was quite big when it came out. But then again, so many people might not be interested in chick flicks. But haha, it’s okay 🙂

Basically, I brought it up because, in the movie, the two main characters – Hazel and Augustus – took a trip to The Netherlands to visit Amsterdam (and along the line, someone else too).

Continue reading “Seeking Voyage: Europa”