A Taste Of Heaven

Buttermere, Lake District National Park

(Lake District, England)

I was flying, at least several feet above the ground. I felt the warm sun on my face and the gentle breeze became my new lover by caressing my face. I saw a sea of sunflowers swaying to an imaginary music. The sight stunned me as I watched mesmerised by the awesomeness of it all. My soul was at ease, all my problems floated away into nothingness. I couldn’t remember where I was coming from or where I was going.

I was static but not in a bad way.

I knew I still had a body but didn’t feel any urge to check what I looked like. I felt a tingle on my toes and the sun shone so bright my eyelids almost hurt. I wanted to reach out and touch it, naturally, I wanted to stay there forever. I heard soft murmurings from afar and gradually, it developed into a chorus of some kind. My eyes flickered to the sunflowers again, the soft chorus emanating from the distance further heightened my sense of euphoria.

I watched and waited for what seemed like years. In the distant, I saw a hill covered in flowers I couldn’t possibly describe. It was an awesome experience. And then, I woke up and saw the worried faces of my sisters…

You can read more on this story here: http://seyisandradavid.org/2012/11/14/death-and-the-angels-of-mercy/

I’ve read and heard countless debates about life after death, my position is simple enough. I’m a firm believer in life after death. The universe and everything in it didn’t happen because of some flimsy big bang theory. It’s more than that.

The events described above were real. I had that strange experience after my heart stopped on the operating table several years ago. I didn’t see any angels but I totally experienced a brief taste of heaven and believe  me, it was as real as my fingers punching away on the laptop.

We live in a wonderful world, however, there are worlds beyond our human comprehension, beauty beyond any language known to man. I think that’s why I write more about the supernatural, I’ve experienced it so many times, I know God is real and He loves us so much.

I’ll stop here and hope all my friends would enjoy the rest of their week!

Much love, always! :)

The Palm Tree Theory



”All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.”

J.R.R Tolkien (1892-1973)

Palm trees are known to withstand severe storms. After a thorough bashing, you could still see palm trees standing, often times bent, but still in the race with a shot. I’ll relate this to us. Undoubtedly, we face storms in our lives and I think there’s no living soul on this planet who doesn’t have one teeny-weeny thing troubling them. Some could be as sublime as breathing, financial woes, all sorts. I’ve seen friends who are so ill, they couldn’t sleep without an oxygen tank close to their bed. However within a month, they’re back to work. Life continues.

Resilience, courage, and determination helps us ride the storm and that’s the theory of palm trees. They don’t give up, they simply adapt to their circumstances, maybe beaten sore but still around. And I think we could borrow a leaf from their philosophy too, storms may come but we can do what we do best, ride through it!

To the people of Mexico, who could soon be battling Hurricane Patricia, I wish everyone would be safe. I sincerely hope everyone would ride through this unscathed!

Now to sunnier news: October is my bestest (pardon my pun) month. I turned 40 on the 14th. Thankfully, I don’t feel or look it yet. I hope to stay that way but who am I kidding? :)

I hope everyone’s been good. I’ve visited as many blogs as I could and would continue to do so. To many of us sliding slowly into the cold ( I resisted the urge to write ‘fray’ ), stay warm. To those in sunnier parts of the world, enjoy the sun.

Have a wonderful weekend my friends and I’ll leave you with this song:

 Much love, always! :)

Surviving Decay…

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      (Photo credit: Flickr)

”Although the living is subject to the ruin of the time, the process of decay is at the same time a process of crystallisation, that in the depth of the sea, into which sinks and is dissolved what once was alive, some things ‘suffer a sea-change’ and survive in new crystallised forms and shapes that remain immune to the elements, as though they waited only for the pearl diver who one day will come down to them and bring them up into the world of the living.”

Hannah Arendt.

I saw this quote by one of the most brilliant minds of the twentieth century. I studied some of her writings, and was pretty impressed by her bluntness, ingenuity, and simplicity. Some  of her works are ‘The Origins of Totalitarianism, ‘The Human Condition,’ ‘On Revolution,’ and ‘The Human Mind.’

It’s a known fact that when we don’t really use our cognitive function, we rot and decay. It’s no wonder that people with warped views of the world and society caused most of the evil in this present age. In layman terms, cognitive function can be aptly described as ‘an intellectual process by which one becomes aware of, perceives, or comprehends ideas. It involves all aspects of perception, thinking, reasoning and remembering.’

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I won’t go into too much details about the lack of this important aspect of our civility as humans, I’ll just try to touch base with some of the setbacks we would experience if we don’t use our brains. Lack of cognitive function is responsible for most of the ills in our societies today. Citing the examples of religious bigots like Islamic State murderers, Boko Haram and serial killers whose brain have been irreparably damaged by their intellectual paucity, its little wonder that they believe in fables and riddles purportedly yarn to elicit their obedience.

Decay is essentially part of all living things, we are born, we live, we grow old or maybe not, and then we die and the decaying would start. All living things, especially humans, have the extraordinary ability to survive decay through our offspring, thought patterns, actions and deeds.

How do we leave great legacies behind? How do we defeat the theory of decay which governs all living things? It’s simple – our thought processes is as important as the air we breathe because that would ultimately affect our choices in life, beliefs, and the quotidian or relatively mundane life we led.

Another thing I wanted to point out, also by Arendt, was the effect of thoughtlessness in the life of human beings, it’s always disastrous to lead a thoughtless life. This was aptly described when Hannah Arendt went to Jerusalem on behalf of The New Yorker, to report the trial of Otto Adolf  Eichmann, who was accused of crimes against the Jewish people, crimes against humanity, and war crimes. Arendt described Eichmann as thoughtless;  quiet authentic inability to think. Succinctly put, absence of critical thoughts can actually turn us into a monstrous, stupid, or crass entity who could be easily blown apart by every wind of doctrine.

Critical thoughts are what makes us the higher beings, capable of making sane, rational decisions. That’s simply what differentiated us from animals.

Arendt is a political theorist but many scholars hailed her as a philosopher. I love reading her works, it makes me think deeply about life and society in general. The above quote could be used and interpreted in several ways, I have chosen my way and that is the fact that we can surely survive decay. We only need to think and we’re free to create a better life for ourselves and everyone around us. Life is in stages, enjoy it while you can and THINK before you act.

NP: The life of a writer is a lonely one, I’m still slaving away on my books hence the sporadic updates on my website. I’ll be visiting your blogs as time permits. I hope you enjoyed reading my thoughts, I’ll love to read what you think. :)

Enjoy the rest of your week my friends!

Much love, always. :)

Brave Heart


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(Photo Credit: Flickr)

”Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.” Desmond Tutu


John Parker wanted to tell the kind man who’d saved him from death, but the words caught in his throat. He mumbled inaudibly then coughed loudly. He desperately wanted to unburden and bare his soul to Anselm but realised his new friend would probably call him a monster.

Time dragged on, and Parker waited. The silence in the room was as thick as a winter fog. How could he utter such words to a total stranger? How could he tell Anselm that his girlfriend of 12 years had been diced to pieces and kept inside his deep freezer. Why? Anselm may ask. ‘Oh,’ he may simply shrug his skinny shoulders and just give an excuse, maybe, because he caught her cheating and their seven-year old daughter, Amber, wasn’t his after all. How could he tell Anselm that he, Parker, was a psycho, a sociopath, a sadist whose pain went deeper than imagined? How in heaven’s name could he tell his new pal that he’d been in prison; a prison of the mind where walls whispered obscenities and the only respite he got would be to slash himself open. How could he say such words?

‘I don’t think I should be in this room,’ Parker finally said and a sad sigh escaped his trembling lips. ‘I should go now.’

He stood up but Anselm stopped him with a wave of his large hands.

‘Sit down,’ the older man said firmly. Parker obeyed, his eyes staring straight ahead.

‘You’ve done bad things. I see it in your eyes. Even there’s pain in death, killing yourself doesn’t make it all go away. Get yourself treated, ask forgiveness and turn yourself in. There’s still redemption son.’

John Parker stared at Anselm. His English was flawless, he’d dropped the German accent.

‘Who are you?’ Parker asked slowly.

‘I’m your conscience,’ was the apt reply and the room began to spin.

John woke up with a start, his heart beating wildly. He sat up and checked the bedside clock. It was 3 a.m. in the morning. He’d been dreaming, it was a huge relief but the incident in the dream wasn’t far from reality, his eyes sought his wife of 12 years who was sleeping soundly. He’d been hiding the voices in his head well, it was difficult explaining to his GP that he’d been battling severe depression for three years. After the loss of his job and his wife became the breadwinner, he’d slowly sunk deeper into the quagmire of depression.

There’s only one brave thing left to do, he tapped his wife gently on the shoulder, it’s better safe than sorry, he thought.


NP: Guys, I’m sorry I couldn’t post this story yesterday, I tried but life just got in the way. I totally had a different plot to this story but then, it occurred to me that men hide their frailty. They go through life as brave hearts, pillars, unmovable and then they crumple! If you’re a man reading this, please, don’t bottle things up if you’re not well. Life is in phases. Talk to your spouse, close friend or even your doctor. Depression affects a lot of people in our society today and some needless deaths could easily have been avoided if things hadn’t gotten out of hand.

The first part of this story is here if you want to catch up: http://seyisandradavid.org/2015/08/11/dreaming-when-awake/

I hope you’ll all have a wonderful weekend!

Much love, always!! :)

Out Of The Ashes

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I believe in life after death, not every one does, but I do. Human beings aren’t merely flesh and blood, we have souls, and soul are indestructible. I’ve got friends who are atheists, so I’m not going to expand too much on this before I start a debate that would rival a sitting in the House of Commons.

Yesterday marked exactly ten years when people with warped views of life took the lives of 52 Londoners, they also left almost 100 people with life changing injuries and scars. Yeah I know, my post is a day late but the topic isn’t. After work yesterday, I caught a few glimpse on the news and was sad at such wanton destruction of human lives. But I was proud, (in fact, I still am) to be a Londoner. Years has passed, but we’ve grown stronger as a city. More tourists visited London than ever before, I love travelling on the tube, bus or on a private car. It’s testament to the fact that evil will and cannot win.

If we read the news, there’s always stuff that would make our tummies churn (my daughter always says that), but life isn’t all gore and horror. There’s the incomparable breath of fresh air, there’s the sheer joy of clean water, what about the juicy goodness of an orange? The list is endless, life is good, and it’s tough, I won’t dispute that.

The relatives of the 7/7 bombing and the senseless and needless attack in Sousse would be comforted by the love and prayers sent their way. I believe in prayers but I also believe in living each day with a heart of thanksgiving in spite of my circumstances, that, I believe is what would keep me sane and out of the ashes of stress and despair. My husband used to say that everyone has problems, it’s just our ways of dealing with life’s daily grind that’s different.

I would end my post with this simple quote from Groucho Marx, ‘I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn’t arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I’m going to be happy in it.’ 15598033400_01b66cb659_k (2) NP: I’m still writing, albeit slowly. I’ve informed my publisher of my inability to submit my manuscripts until next year. Life seems to have a way of sending many distractions my way and I always oblige :) I hope everyone is fine. Please, stay safe! Much love to you guys, always! :) :)

Failure Is Not Terminal!

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 (Photo credit: Flickr)

“I really don’t think life is about the I-could-have-beens. Life is only about the I-tried-to-do. I don’t mind the failure but I can’t imagine that I’d forgive myself if I didn’t try.” Nikki Giovanni

“No man ever achieved worth-while success who did not, at one time or other, find himself with at least one foot hanging well over the brink of failure.” Napoleon Hill

“It is hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed.” Theodore Roosevelt

When we have peace within ourselves, we can think clearly. I stared at this picture for ages and it gvae such tremendius joy!

Just like this amazing creature, let’s pause and gather our strength, we can succeed!

I love these three quotes on what I’ll call ‘the near success syndrome’ a.k.a failure. Life is so dynamic yet mysterious and sometimes, what we call failure could well be delay. My dad used to say that the fear of failure mostly propelled him to succeed. He did failed miserably in some aspects of his life, but he succeeded in several as well. To ignore failure or looming failure, we must have courage. Courage is also borne out of the ability to build on one’s failure and squeeze success out of it, Abraham Lincoln failed continuously before he became the celebrated figure most people adore today.

I also believe that dreams have a way of taunting us if we don’t do much about it, I don’t think losing or failing should discourage or cut our enthusiasm short. Succinctly put, don’t give up! There’s more to learn from failing than not attempting something in the first place. I also believe that success derived from failure is the sweetest of all.

I don’t why I’m writing this, but if it touches someone to continue living and not give up on their dreams, then I’m happy.

NP: I’m still hard at work writing my books, it’s not as fast I would have loved but it’s still worth it. I’ll still ensure I visit all your blogs as time permits. I appreciate your friendship and visits guys, thank you!

I hope everyone would enjoy the rest of this great week!!

Much love, always. :)

The Hope Journey


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Hope has no age barrier!

(Photo Credit: Flicker)

For the past two weeks, I’d thought of a girl I met several years ago, a girl who taught me about hope, she once told me that, ‘hope is an endless journey, it never stops because if it does, it ceases to be hope.’

This is a true story:

Roughly around thirty years ago, as I was pushing towards my tenth birthday, my dad moved us into an exclusive neighbourhood, it was an eight bedroom duplex with what we called boys-quarters at the back. It was massive with house-helps and guards posted to the front gate and all sorts of people tending the garden. The house fitted us perfectly, we were a large family of eleven. My mom had nine kids, but even at that, I desperately missed my friends.

I preferred our former house, it was a bungalow in a quiet leafy street where kids could play outside. Our new home was different, everyone I met tried to speak with a posh accent. I was wild at heart at that age, I loved adventures, running around, stealing past guards and walking through the woodlands behind our  home, giving my poor parents such grief.

Then one evening in September, the African sun was slowly receding into the clouds, I sniffed the air in contentment as I strolled along the road which led to our home with one of my brothers. A girl my age walked past and waved, she wore a white dress and green sandals, I waved back, stealing one more look. She had the kindest eyes, and a lovely smile. I liked her at once, maybe I’d found a friend at last. Within two weeks we met properly. She lived on the next street, and her dad was in one of those boring clubs my dad frequented, where middle age men drink and exchange business ideas.

Ayo and I became fast friends, if she wasn’t in my house I was in hers. She was extremely beautiful, I nicknamed her ‘china porcelain,’ because my mom had a set of china plates and heaven helped whosoever dared touched the plates, I think I broke one or two though! :)

She was very fragile, her pale, pallor skin often gave her an ethereal glow, more like a ghost at times but we still played hard. Sometimes I’d noticed the worried expression on her dad’s face but I ignored it, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t understand why he always seemed so pensive. She was my best friend and I loved her to bits, I didn’t for once think anything could be wrong with her. Then one day I visited her house and saw her sweating on the couch, she looked very ill. I touched her forehead and it was so hot. Her dad came into the living room and walked her to the door. They left for the hospital and I couldn’t sleep well that night.

Ayo stayed in the hospital for two weeks, I was dying to hear news but my parents just told me she would fine. I knew something wasn’t right. It was like that for almost six months, Ayo would be fine for one week, then she would be sick for four. One day in March, we were almost a year in our new home when she came in for a visit. Her eyes were bright and she looked healthy, I sensed she wanted to tell me something and when she did, I was clueless. My best friend had ‘Sickle-Cell Anaemia,’ a terrible disease of the blood. When she left, I went into my dad’s library and rummaging through his vast array of encyclopaedias (there’s nothing like Google then) found information on the disease. What I read was too advanced for my age, but at best, I understood her condition.

Three weeks later, on a hot Friday afternoon, I went to her house and saw her on the bare floor, writhing in pain. This time around, it was serious, she was crying and I held her head in my hands. Her mouth was dry and her eyes were yellow.

‘I’m so sorry.’ I kept muttering under my breath. I think my voice did a little trick and she stopped crying. She managed to sit up and gave me a weak smile.

‘Seyi, don’t ever give up on hope, it’s what kept me going all these years.’ She said and I laughed.

‘You’re just weeks older than me.’ I said, still smiling, I wanted to wish away her illness and pain.

‘If I didn’t have hope, I would have gone, but I stayed for my dad…’ there was silence, ‘and you.’ She added with a twinkle in her eyes. We hugged tightly and I felt a tremor passed through her body.

‘It’s time,’ her dad muttered looking down at us. I felt lost and my heart was beating very fast.

I helped her to her feet and into her dad’s car. Her elder sister stood in the doorway, her ashen face portend sad tidings. I stood beside the car, I wanted to follow her but was too scared. My parents walked in through their gate and spoke tenderly to Ayo’s dad.

That night, my eyes stayed open. The next morning, I dashed to Ayo’s house but the gates were locked. A week later, Ayo was gone. In a way, I was relieved she was no longer in pain, for my ten-year old brain, an ordinary fever is hell compared to the endless pain Ayo endured for her short stay on earth. However, I won’t really remember her for that debilitating illness, I would remember her warmth, faith and hope. She was a girl who believed in hope, and for someone like that, why can’t we have hope?

Although she passed, but I believe she did when she wanted to, she was way older than her years. If she were to be here today, I knew she would still be spreading her message of hope. Thank God for science, people with Sickle cell lived longer and less painful lives now.

Thanks for reading my long story, I try to keep my posts short but I’ve not posted for almost six weeks and I sincerely hope I haven’t bore you. I apologise for my absence, It wasn’t deliberate. I would visit your blogs as much as time permits. I love you guys and I hope you’ll all enjoy the rest of this week.

Much love, always! :)