A Glimpse of God

I’m one of those people who went cashless even before there were enough ATMs and POS terminals around. I just conveniently forget to withdraw. Somewhere in my head, it helps me spend less. In real life, it ruins my budget plans and makes me spend twice as much! Nonetheless, you’d still catch me with insufficient cash four out of seven days, and yes, today was one of those days.

I didn’t withdraw last night – conveniently forgot again. I’d thought “I’d just ask someone at home to loan me a tiny bit plus some more for emergency“. I had the thought till I slept for the night. Still had it when I woke up this morning. For some reason, I did nothing about it. My mum had put me in a bus already before I realized I hadn’t gotten any money from home and I had just a fraction of the total amount I needed to get to work.

The thing about this morning is it’s about 5:30am, it’s raining “elephants and horses” and the distance between where this bus would stop and the next ATM is probably 5kms (I do not really know what amount of distance this is though) away. I couldn’t believe my life. 

Somewhere in the middle of not believing my life… the bus guy asks for our fares and from absolutely nowhere, the guy beside me reaches out and says he’s paying for two; for both of us! There had been no prior conversation or anything. He just paid.


I like to think that there is a glimpse of God everyday, in the most mundane day to day activities that we experience. They are like tiny little miracles that we didn’t even ask for but we needed and they’re His way of letting us know He’s here. I live for those moments.

24 And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear – Isaiah 65:24

Short Stories

Walking Stories

She’s on the bench in the park, 2pm everyday. She sits there for 30 minutes, staring into space, hardly noticing anyone or anything happening around her. At 2:30pm, she rises with gusto and heads back to work


They come to the same park everyday to spend time together. Between 1:30pm and 2:30pm, they walk in hand in hand, holding their lunch packs in the other hand. They sit across her, trying not to stare.


She loves having lunch with him daily because between their schedule and commute, this is the only available time, but she wishes so much to be her.
To sit on the park bench alone, taking it all in; the sights, the wind, the sun… the peace..


He’s never loved anyone like he loves her and it aches him so much that all he gets is one hour of her time daily. More than that is he senses her need for solitude, but he knows he can’t bring himself to let her have it.


He brings his kid to the park daily, it’s always just the two of them, content in the company of each other.


He wants to be the best father to his son and the time they spend together at the park is one of the few ways he’s found. Since he lost his wife three months ago, he’s put in everything into loving this kid to fill in for the love momma would have given


His dad is everything, he knows he tries so hard for him but he misses momma. The light dad once had is gone. If only he could meet someone new…
He glances towards her; she was always alone and she looked pretty calm and approachable


He’s the guard at the park who’s always on the daytime shift. He watches her every time she comes in at 2pm, alone. He watches her walk to the exact bench they used to sit in and have lunch daily before he died. He looks at the couple across her; eating silently, and wonders if they appreciate what they have…


We are walking stories;
Of whats and hows and whys.

Short Stories


Somewhere deep in the community of Ilu-Awun, dwelled the most perfect Christmas market. It opened on the 1st of December through to the 23rd, every year, for all from far and wide to come in and shop for their Christmas needs.

This market was such that you could find everything needed to make your Christmas holiday memorable. From wears to wares, everything was there. And the best part; everything went for half the price!

There was nowhere in the community of Ilu-Awun, let alone the entire town of Jejeleko, anyone could find better prices. They called it Oja Ole.

Oja Ole ni Ilu-Awun.

Like many unexplainable phenomena, there were many stories as to why things were so cheap in that market at Christmas. The most popular and logical tale had it that the Oba of Ilu-Awun paid sellers, annually, to bring their prices down to the barest minimum for more “tourists” to come in. People said the returns from the tourists – who usually spent more than a few days in the community – was what kept it top notch to date. Others said it was something more mysterious.

The mystery of it were words not spoken, facts not proven, occurrences no one came to terms with, until it happened to them.


Abiodun – just like her name implied – was born in this season, the season of the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ. She was the first and only child of her mother; Temidire. ‘Biodun and Temidire lived together in one of the less known communities in the town of Jejeleko; Agbekele.

‘Biodun had never met her dad – or felt the need to. Her mum had told her some story about how he was no longer here, sometime ago. It had had no impact on her thoughts or curiosity then, still doesn’t now, because this woman she had lived with for the past 18 years was and continued being all she needed.

‘Biodun and Temidire were twenty years apart, but best friends like they should be. You could hardly notice the age gap between them. Their preferences on all the basic things that mattered – food, style, people – synced.

As expected, they never fought on anything really, except Christmas. From the year ‘Biodun turned ten, she started nagging her mum to make Christmas more meaningful. Temidire would listen to her speak, grunt and move on. She never really made any effort. When ‘Biodun turned 15, her new chant was how they could go to “Oja Ole ni Ilu-Awun” to make Christmas more meaningful. Temidire still grunted and made no effort. Because of the fight it caused between them year after year, ‘Biodun compromised and stopped nagging about it when she was turning eighteen. She had made up her mind that she had come of age and would have a home soon, then, she would have the Christmas she desired.


It was the Christmas season of 2010, ten years after ‘Biodun said she’d have the perfect Christmas when she had her own home. She did have her own home now, but hadn’t gotten that perfect Christmas she always wanted. A part of her knew it was tied to the fact that she still hadn’t visited Oja Ole ni Ilu-Awun. She decided to do just that.

She travelled back home to Agbekele with her 9 year old only daughter; Modupe, to spend a few days with her mom – Temidire – and shop to her fill for Christmas at Oja Ole ni Ilu-Awun.

‘Biodun could not suppress her excitement when she got back to Agbekele to meet her mom. She was bubbly when she asked that Temidire came along. Temidire said in a clear voice and a straight face:

“I would not go to that market and I command that you do not, as well”

When Biodun asked why, she had no answers.

The next day, still without Temidire’s approval, ‘Biodun, clutching Modupe’s hand, with undeterred excitement, headed to Oja Ole ni Ilu-Awun.


It was their third and final day in the market. The first day had been a drag because they didn’t know their way around. By day two, they got the general picture and were half way down their Christmas list. They intended to get it all done today and return home to (grand)mom.

‘Biodun and her daughter left the guest house they had stayed for the last two nights, still as pumped as they were when they started the quest. Their first stop was the Christmas Decoration booth. They had seen the most beautiful tree ornaments there, yesterday. They had split the quest from the first day; ‘Biodun held the money and Modupe’s hand, Modupe held the list, telling her mommy what was next.

As they approached the already crowded booth, ‘Biodun struggled to get the money out of her shopper bag with her one free hand. When she reached it and pulled it out, a few notes slipped out of the already loose wad of notes to the floor.

“Modupe, please quickly pick those notes up” She said.

Just as Modupe made contact with the first note on the floor, she disappeared.

With the busy hurrying shuffling feet in Oja Ole ni Ilu-Awun, no one noticed.

No one noticed when ‘Biodun screamed or the fear in her eyes with seeing her daughter disappear before her or her running around the market with her clothes askew. No one really noticed, let alone believed, they were too busy having the cheapest buys for a memorable Christmas.

‘Biodun left the market, still incoherent, leaving everything behind. She ran straight into Temidire’s arms crying and screaming;

“Did you know this and not tell me?! Did you?! I am finished!”

Temidire held her close and wept silently. Her only words brought an understanding silence between them.

“Oja Ole ni Ilu-Awun is as literal as the names can be. It is the market for thieves  in a stingy land. The mystery of it are words not spoken, facts not proven, occurrences no one comes to terms with, until it happens to them. This is how your father left.”


One year later, ‘Biodun had another child. She named her Bamidele.