Matthew 18:7

I’d begin this blog post with the words of Jesus, “Woe unto the world because of offenses! for it must be that offenses come.If He says that surely offenses must come, who are we to say otherwise.

I had a friend, in the previous year, who was always known to be very bitter. You dared not step on her wrong foot and not apologize, she had the ability to hold hurt for as long as a sponge has the ability to retain lather.

But as usual, she loved to pray, and when I mean pray, I mean pray long – longer than the average Christian. So when you come to church, she’s the person who opens the door for you, and when you need a seat, she gleefully gives you her seat. She’s the usher with the offering basket, back-up to the choir leader, and the chief protocol to the Pastor’s wife. She’s everything to everybody, and when service is over, she’s among the counselors for the new converts, in the hospitality team for first timers, and among the cooks who give guest ministers something to take home.

You’d find her at the door of the church, on the church’s podium, in the Pastor’s office, in the children’s church, in the toilet, in the car park, in the Pastor’s house, in your house, in my house, in everybody’s house. She’s like the proverbial harlot whose husband had gone on a long journey, who was begging for a one night stand from a straying stranger, who had prepared her bed graciously with everything good you could think of. She was calling, with the energy of a child on the playground, running with the vigor of a horse set in battle array.

She was in the air, in the water, in everything. She’d morph herself into everything called life, trying to get into our very being, to make her home within. She was my friend, and we did not have some little memories together. She accompanied me to school, to church, to birthdays and anniversaries, to weddings and funerals, to art exhibitions and on long walks. She was on my Instagram posts, Facebook stories, and WhatsApp status. I mean, she was everywhere: my friend, sister, wife, mother, everything.

But she was offence. And she still is. And with everything I let go in the past year, she was one of them. I’m learning to forgive: myself – for being so undisciplined, for playing too close to depression and sadness, and all the bad energy frustration throws at you; my neighbor – for harboring thoughts not peculiar to a Christian, for not being forgiving enough, for not even trying to make amends; God – like I had the power to be angry at the one who created me. It’ll be a long journey, but now I’m glad I have gratitude, and forgiveness with me.

– Fabian O.

Posted in CocoAbba


Hello, ALian. 💜

I finally decided to gift you Springing. First written on the 11th of December, 2021.

Sometimes, some days, you’ll just want to crawl into a cave someplace where you cannot be found, to sit there and cry. To cry till every tired, sad, disappointed and frustrated cell in your body washes out in the tears and form a pool.

You’re not scared that you may drown because even if you drown, you cannot die (at least if you could you’d have eons ago). Somehow, it doesn’t seem appropriate to say you drowned if you do not die… Or is it now?

Sometimes you want to run away from your body for a few days. Not forever of course—just a few days of not feeling, not knowing, not needing, not wanting. To be a soul, just…
But, beggars cannot be choosers, at least so they said, so all you do is laugh hysterically and wait for ‘your time’.
Your time will come… Or not?

Because how do you begin to unpack this, this, this nameless thing (leech?) attached to your soul, eagerly consorting to devour every ounce of joy.

How could you have lived all your life without ever finding satisfaction?
Have you ever been satisfied?
Why does it feel like the version of Jesus you fell in love with is a scam through and through, because how else can you explain these inconsistencies? Last I heard, Jesus is always faithful, right?

Poster child for joy wey no get joy. What a joke!

Light of the world wey no dey light up even im backyard! What a wawuzu.

How did you become a shadow of yourself? Wait. Do you even know yourself?

Who are you?
Where are you?
What are you?
The more important questions that never get asked. The questions that determine ‘How are you?’.

Why are you…? Why do you…? What are these weights? Who gave you so many burdens? Why are you sooooooo unserious? Don’t. Even. Laugh. You brute! 😂

15 seconds of seriousness you can’t maintain!

Happy child. Sad child. Just child… Child becoming. Child scared. Child afraid. Child vulnerable. Child growing. Child… Child.

Child loved.

More than anything. I think this is the scariest reality that you, dear, are loved. Wildly loved. It’s almost unthinkable, incomprehensible, but yet, crazily true. You are loved.

God has at all times brought you people who love you and sometimes all you need(ed) to do is love them back. Love them fiercely.
Don’t run. Talk. Communicate. Let them know you love them.
Close your eyes to the circus, the wild crowd. The people who matter are a handful. Do this for them!

You will win. You are already… You just can’t see it, because you ain’t looking there.

It’s in the way the smiles answer to your name. It’s in the way your hugs bring up fond memories. It’s scary but possible. You can love and not hurt. You can be loved and not hurt.
You can be whole. Again.

Because, Abba made you whole. Made: past tense for when he created you and past tense for when he healed you. Abba completes you. Rest in that completion.

In that grace. The grace that made you…makes you whole

And if you never do anything right, let it be that you loved Jesus and you allowed Him love you. Let that be your focus, to love Him first. To love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul and mind, and to let the Lord your God love you…To allow Him love you is to let Him love through you.

No pressure. None here. Not in this space. Not in your space.

All good things will come as you wait it out.
… And you will find rest for your soul.


Posted in CocoAbba

Save me from myself II

Another crazed week just rolled past! Mehn. What a week? I know I promised “Save me from myself II” earlier, I could not find spare moments to write after Tuesday, though. Forgive me. I’m writing today, however. Does it suffice, my darling?

You should know too, yesterday, I forgot to write to you, because I was working on something.

So, to the promised completion of the blog entry;

That Tuesday morning, I came face-to-face with my humanity in a very humbling way. And I remember now that Apostle Arome always says “Man is a bag of infirmities.”

Knowing this it is easier to give grace to people and forgive them, because we are humans and make messes all the time.

I remember thinking to myself one of those days in December when I was eviscerating a fowl how good the warm blood felt flowing over my hands as I dug in. And then I asked “What’s the difference between me and a ritualist?” It’s probably a very thin line of conscience, which can easily be crossed given the “right” exposures.

In the face of our weaknesses we are reminded why we should never judge any man, because given the right atmosphere, exposure and opportunity, our humanity will shock us.

This, my friend, is what I write to remind you of today: all men are in need of grace and a Saviour.

May we never see the day when our humanity embarrasses us. Rather, may we learn daily to say “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

Emem ye ifure ke obufa ofion emi (Have peace and serenity in this new month).

Cc: Your GJ. 💜✌️