STOP: WHO IS THE ABUSER?

 Human beings are quite interesting. Hosanna today, crucify tomorrow. A worship minister is dead and we all are doing what we do best...TALK! Let's pause a little to ask some salient questions:

it started with a slap and he kept apologizing, blaming the devil. Then the real beatings started. Yes she might be the one bringing money with her talent but his business acumen helps to get good deals 

Then typical of every abuser, the threats increase. They always know how to get into ones head. "If you leave the marriage or even tell anyone, nobody will believe you," and so on and so forth.

STOP and answer these:

Let's assume for once that she leaves, how would the body of Christ regard her? By the time the man begins to tell his own narrative, who would the public believe? Even if she's able to show evidence of abuse, would she still receive invitations to minister? Would she not be tagged "divorcee?", a back sliden Christian who does not live what she preaches? Would she be allowed to continue expressing herself in that only thing which gives her succor, relief and hope? I've watched her ministration severally and I perceive someone who loves God intimately and looses herself in the place of deep worship. You can practically hear the yearning in her voice.

Often times, we watch and even ensure that our wounded soldiers die. And even in death, some spin stories questioning their fidelity. I wonder the way some people's mind works

Someone lashed out saying why are people coming out to expose the sister's plights now that she is gone. Why not when she was still alive? My question is: how many would believe? The attitude of "who send you?" "You want to break another person's marriage?" is enough to force some people to just keep quiet and pray things get better. God help you if you're single then the question will be you're either jealous or you want to replace the partner. And then what if the victim does not give you permission to speak?  hmmm.
I'm just thinking o...

A deep cry in the body of Christ and in the Naija gospel music scene.

I don't know where to start but I think it's sad that oftentimes we use scriptures to justify grievous wrong. When I heard of the death of this worshipper, I was so sad and wondered what could have happened. Then I heard about the constant domestic abuses she suffered. This came to a head when he beat her up and kicked her several times on her chest. She died days later at the hospital.

Out of curiosity, I went to her page on Instagram (@osinachinwachukwuofficial), I actually didn't know what i was looking for but my eyes caught the above posts.

We have allowed fear of what people might say and culture force us to stay in life threatening situations. Does refusal to be subjected to domestic violence in anyway mean one is not "patient in affliction"?

Oh our silent cries that no one hears...the silent screams that people can never hear...oh what needless pain we bear in the name of culture, tradition and image... and....sorry to say... marriage!

Now she's gone and only God knows the pain  those she left behind are going through....her three boys and girl, her twin sister, and those who love her genuinely.

May the comforting arms of the holy spirit envelope them

Rest easy sister!

WHEN GOD RAN! by Nnamdi Akubuiro

STOP. ...The fair lady had gone round the street three times over. "Should she do it?" "Should she not?" The burden of her thoughts had led her to the place where she stood that evening. "Lord, let this cup pass over me", she whispered. She picked up her pace again. One more circle, round four. One more circle just to clear her head. Ten minutes later, she found herself once again in front of the lonely house on the lonely street. "Should she enter?" "Should she not?" It was a brown painted bungalow with a black gate. Number 52 in white paint to the right end. A small sign, blue with bold white text on it read: IFEANYI PHARMACY AND STORES. It came highly recommended. The safest solution to her aching mind. she held her swollen tommy in pain as the warmth of the new life growing inside her rose and broke her heart. "Should she go ahead?" "Should she not?" What other options does she have. After all, Bode had denied her. Her parents would kill her if they got to find out that she was pregnant. Her friends would definitely abandon her and yes make mockery of her. School was off the table. No more reputation because her moral standing was tarnished. SHAME! Yes! That was her second name. She walked past the building one more time, as she went round the block. Hot tears like tribal marks poured down her face. One more circle to make it five.

WINE SILK
Bb reeled with shock. This was nothing she would have imagined to hear from Toju. She always looked calm, collected and all together. Who would have thought that this sister that seemed larger than life would make this kind of request from someone like her. She looks up and catches Toju eyes looking at her with intensity. Bb looks at her for awhile, considering her options. "I would love to do it but there is a problem", Bb says. "I live very far away and that might make our hooking up a bit difficult". "That should not be a problem. You could move in with me and go home anytime you wish", Toju replied. Bb heaved a huge sigh of relief. "then I am game. Shall come with you tomorrow after service." 
That Sunday morning, Bb packed her things with so much joy and excitement. She had told her mum about her new found friend and sister. Her mum didn't have problems with her moving in with her friend. That would ease the burden of transport fare on her. "Make sure you people are prayerful o" her mum said. "Mummy she is actually my prayer partner". "That is good. Go well my daughter".
After service that day, Bb went off with Toju to her place.

WINE SILK

She was very smart, highly intelligent, going somewhere in life. However, she holds a job where she has not been paid for months. How does a lady survive in these condition? You cannot afford basic things. I mean you can't even do your hair! And to make matters worse, your place of work is far from home. Her hair has started getting rough. She wonders who she could ask money from. What lies can she come up with now? These thoughts fill her head as she gazes round the choir practice section of her church.

If i ask sister Bisola, she will give me a thousand and one reasons why she has stopped lending people money. Sister Amara would definitely ask for interest. Hmm, what about sister Hilda? That one is so full of herself that she could just look down her nose and tell you she doesn't have. Besides, she has a budget for such charity projects every month and sorry, she has already exceeded it. May be next month!

BB heaves a heavy sigh and trudges towards the canteen. Hunger pangs hit her as she nears the place. "Is this not going from frying pan to fire?" she asks herself.
"Hey sister BB how are you?" Awele is one of the lively sisters in the choir. "We thank God o my sister", replied the humble and hungry BB. "Anything for the girls?" Placing a huge smile on her face and quietly ordering the rumble in her stomach to shut up, she walks to where Awele was sitting. Awele laughs and pokes BB, " i should be asking you o". Our God's faithful sha, she munches on and BB covertly watches as she lifts each spoonful of jollof rice and fried plantain with juice droopy beef into her mouth.

The Cry of the Innocent! by Omatoju

BABY
She was born out of wedlock. She knew nothing about it; had no say in the matter! So why was everyone treating her as though she had no root? Okay, granted she was introduced to the family of her father months after she had been born. Even fate smiled on her because apart from being the exact photocopy of her dad, she happened to have been born on the same day her grandmother (father’s mother) celebrated her birthday. That means from then onwards, there shall be double celebration in the home. Phew! That will be something to look forward to, she hoped.

IN THE WAITING ROOM

Hi folks! Something on my mind....

I guess many of you have watched the case of a woman carrying three babies and begging for alms to feed these poor babies. This is not an unusual sight for those of us living in this part of the world. Many are sympathetic towards the mothers of twins, triplets or more who have little or nothing to take care of their children and therefore resort to alms. But what do you think of a situation where these women borrow or hire babies from their mothers in order to beg for alms? At the end of a whole day of lying these poor babies out in the sun with just water for them to drink, the women go back to the respective mothers who in turn get their share.

A Poem; Royalty

Last week saw the celebration of International Women's Day and Mothers Day.

This poem by a Writer and Author; Francisca Okwulehie eulogises the strength of the woman and the girl.

I hope this poem motivates any lady out there.

ROYALTY

She is clothed in splendour
She is strong with vigour
She roars but with gentle calmness
Brave and unflinching in the face of danger

She is worth more than rubies
Her care is as crystal as pearl
Her warmth soft and plump like a peach

Her words are purple
The tips of her fingers are gold.
She pursues her dreams
With the ferociousness of a Cheetah

She is Woman
She is Royalty

(c) Francisca O. Okwulehie
March 2018

Brand New Peaches and Purples.

Hello Friends,

It has really been such a very long time since I last blogged here. I hope you did not miss my absence too much.

As with everything that happens to man, I have been under, working on numerous projects and one of which is the rebranding of Peaches and Purples.

For those who that are new to this site.

On Peaches and Purples, I would be telling stories and sharing stories that resonate with our day to day experiences. I would also be bringing feminine news and beauty treats for the ladies. Here we would tell stories to inspire and to uplift.

Keep watching this space.

Lots of Love.

Title..?

 

 

you keep spending money

you wonder where it goes to

yet the bills keep on coming

where do you run to?

they say its recession

you don't want to join the confession

happenings are beyond comprehension

you must posses your possession