There’s a profound difference between the stories we write and the stories we live. As a writer, I’ve shelved countless manuscripts—unfinished works waiting for my return, my revisions, my second chances. The pages sit patiently, knowing I might someday breathe new life into their dormant potential.
Life offers no such luxury. We write our story in permanent ink, each moment committed irrevocably to the record. There are no drafts to revisit and no passages to rewrite. The narrative unfolds in real time, with no chance to polish our regrets into something more beautiful in retrospect.
Eleven years ago, my dear friend Ken reviewed my book “Cydonia: Rise of the Fallen.” I read through his review just a few minutes ago and felt that familiar writer’s urge to revise and improve. How fortunate that my written work allows for second editions! Yet this moment illuminated a stark contrast—while my book may see multiple iterations, my life will see just one.
Why, then, do we waste our precious days scrolling aimlessly, ensnared in digital echoes that contribute nothing to the significance of our story? Why spend hours on transient distractions when we could be creating memorable experiences?
For those who believe, as I do, in life after death, there comes a reckoning—not an editing session. Our completed manuscript will be read, not revised. This is not meant to inspire fear but urgency—an invitation to live deliberately, to make each word and day count.
Let us write lives worth reading—stories of impact, kindness, and purpose. Let us make our corners of the world better places, knowing we won’t get the chance to rewrite what we’ve lived, only to live what we’ll be proud to have written.
As always, I’m inundated with work, but I will endeavour to update my website as much as I can. Thank you for reading, my friends, wherever you are.
In the dimly lit living room of our home, I watched my adult son experience the brutal reality of war through Edward Berger’s adaptation of “All Quiet on the Western Front.” As tears streamed down his face, I realised that nearly a century after Erich Maria Remarque penned his haunting novel, its message still pierces young hearts with devastating clarity.
The film, released in 2022, doesn’t merely depict war – it thrusts viewers into the mud-filled trenches of World War I, where hope dies as quickly as the young soldiers who enlisted with dreams of glory. Through the eyes of Paul Bäumer, a German teenager who enthusiastically volunteers for service, we witness the systematic destruction of youthful innocence.
What makes this adaptation particularly powerful is its unflinching portrayal of warfare’s futility. The scene that broke my son wasn’t one of spectacular explosions or dramatic deaths – it was the quiet moment when Paul, having just killed a French soldier in hand-to-hand combat, watches the life slowly leave his enemy’s eyes. In that instant, my son understood what textbooks could never convey: the profound human cost of war.
As we observe Remembrance Sunday this November 10, the film serves as more than entertainment or historical drama. It becomes a bridge connecting generations – helping today’s youth understand why we wear poppies, why we observe minutes of silence, and why we must never forget. My son’s tears weren’t just for Paul or the countless young men who died in World War I; they were tears of recognition, understanding that each name etched on war memorials represents a story as accurate and tragic as those depicted on screen.
“All Quiet on the Western Front” accomplishes what every war memorial aspires to do: it makes us remember the statistics of war and its human face. As my son wiped his eyes after the film, he whispered something that would stay with me forever: “Mum, they were younger than me. They were just kids.” My son rarely shows his emotions. This was one of the few times he allowed the torrents to flow. My husband and I hugged him as I reflected on the war plaguing our world, from Ukraine to Congo, From Sudan to Palestine, it’s never-ending, and we must do better.
Wars must stop!
This Remembrance Sunday, as we honour the fallen, let us remember that the best tribute we can pay to those who sacrificed everything is to ensure their stories continue to move new generations. Through films like this, their experiences live on, teaching invaluable lessons about the cost of war and the precious value of peace.
In remembering, we must do more than recite “Lest we forget” – we must help our children understand why we must never forget. Sometimes, it takes a son’s tears to remind us that the past isn’t as distant as we think.
As I scrutinise the global landscape, my heart grows heavy. The conflicts in Ukraine and the Middle East are just the tip of a blood-soaked iceberg. Russian forces continue their relentless assault on Ukrainian soil, while the cycle of violence between Israel, Iran and its proxies, Hamas and Hezbollah, seems never-ending. Amidst the chaos and destruction, one group thrives in the shadows – the arms dealers.
Across Africa, long-standing wars continue to ravage nations. The Sudanese Army and Rapid Support Forces are logged in never-ending warfare in Sudan. Despite efforts for peace, sporadic violence persists, and according to DW News, the 15-month war has left over 150,000 people dead. The Democratic Republic of Congo remains trapped in a cycle of conflict involving numerous armed groups, and according to Global Conflict Tracker, the war has led to six million deaths! In the Sahel region, countries like Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger grapple with insurgencies and coups.
Turning to the Americas, the situation is equally grim. In Mexico, brutal drug cartels wage war against each other and the state, leaving a trail of devastation. Colombia, despite a peace deal with FARC rebels, still contends with dissident groups and other cartels. Venezuela’s ongoing crisis has regional implications, with violence spilling across borders.
In Myanmar, the military junta’s oppression has sparked armed resistance. The Afghan people face an uncertain future under Taliban rule, with pockets of resistance and the ever-present threat of extremist groups. In Yemen, a complex civil war has created one of the world’s worst humanitarian crises.
Behind each of these conflicts, the shadowy figures of arms dealers loom large. They profit from every bullet fired, every bomb dropped, and every life shattered. Their wares find their way into the hands of state armies, rebel groups, terrorist organisations, and criminal syndicates alike. The global arms trade knows no borders, no morality—only the cold logic of supply and demand.
As a pacifist witnessing this worldwide carnage, I’m driven to ask: How can we break this cycle? How can we forge a path to lasting, global peace? The pacifist in me yearns for a world where conflicts are resolved through dialogue and diplomacy, not through the barrel of a gun or the blast of a missile.
Is it naive to imagine a future where we invest in education, healthcare, and sustainable development instead of arms races? Can we envision a world where the billions spent on weapons are redirected to fighting poverty, disease, and climate change?
The cynic might say this is an impossible dream, but we must strive for it nonetheless. Every life lost in these conflicts is a tragedy, a potential extinguished forever. We owe it to ourselves and future generations to seek alternatives to violence. As long as some profit from war, peace will remain elusive. But if we can change our collective mindset and see humanity in our perceived enemies, we can begin to build a world where arms dealers have no place.
The path to peace is long and filled with challenges. But it begins with us questioning the status quo and daring to imagine a better way. In the face of ongoing conflicts, let us not lose hope. Let us work tirelessly for a future where the only arms we need are those we use to embrace one another.
If we can all imbibe the ideology of a pacifist, we’re moving towards a peaceful world.
When I think about Jesus, I feel joy, appreciation for His sacrifice, and overwhelming relief that my life is free from the clutches of sin and shame. Christ paid the ultimate price for me and everyone who believes in Him. He translated my earthly being into a spiritual and heaven-bound believer.
What an overwhelming victory!
Death could not hold Him. Propelled by love, Christ went down to hell and defeated the enemy of our souls. As we enter into the Easter season, I am drawing inspiration from the timeless wisdom of Scripture, which illuminates the significance of Jesus Christ’s death and resurrection for humanity:
“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”
John 3:16
“He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay.”
Matthew 28:6
The resurrection of Jesus Christ is the ultimate triumph over sin and death, signalling the promise of new life for all who believe in Him.
“He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed.”
1 Peter 2:24
This Easter, let us reflect on these powerful truths and rejoice in the hope and redemption that Christ’s death and resurrection bring. May our hearts be filled with gratitude and our spirits renewed as we celebrate the victory of our risen Saviour.
My daughter wrote the poem below on my birthday, and she gave me the permission to share it. If only we have love in the world, we will dance on the streets rather than raining bombs on ourselves. Our souls will have dwelled in safety, not fear.
I hope you’ll all enjoy reading the heartfelt love from a daughter to her mother.
Two Hands
Strong and Firm
Cupping and moulding a shape.
Spreading out a piece of Eternity
Your love, more priceless than
Moonbeams, and fickle dreams
And troubles that dissolve
In times steady pace
Providing a sense of security
Two Hands
That cup my face.
Providing an unexplainable
Yet undeniable sense of place
Apparent in shape and constitution, and beauty
Two Hands with concrete
And resolute wisdom
Pointing beyond the Earth’s clouds
To the Author and Finisher of our Faith
Pointing and providing
Undeniable direction and words of gold from your breath
Though my human and
Simultaneous half girlish and half grown.
Nature may blindside those hands.
You wait, arms and hands outstretched.
Hold within those hands
The love that moulded me
The love and the piece that was.
With you, becomes a part of me.
Resolute and strong, beckoning
Me forth with those Two Hands
Two Hands that lead mine to
The right path, advising, adjusting.
And teaching to pursue beyond
This world
In your embrace, my visage is filled with your warmth.
A cover provided, and obstructing the view.
Of deep and embedded scars of effort
And experience within your
Two Hands
And so, with my own Two Hands, connecting.
Extending out from my arms
I trace the scars.
Interlock fingers and once again
We embrace, but from I to you.
I love you ❤
As I read the poem again, my heart flush with pride and love for my daughter but it was quickly dampened by the wars raging around us. As the world rabbles with overwhelming hatred, I pray and hope we’ll find a way to truly love each other, eschew war, and our world will prosper.
Thanks for reading dear friends and please, stay safe, wherever you are in the world.
Today marks the 18th anniversary of the London transport bombings, which caused the death of 52 people and numerous injuries. Here in Europe, we’re still watching the carnage unleashed on Ukrainians when Russia invaded their country, killing thousands of innocent people and inflicting untold suffering on both sides. I’ve lost count of the mass shootings in the US this year. Here in the UK, we’re grappling with knife crimes, young lives snuffed out at regular intervals. Then today, I read about an Ohia man, Chad Doerman, who executed his three young sons, allowing the mother to witness the heinous crime. He would probably claim insanity, which brings me to the complexity inherent in the human heart.
The human heart, both anatomically and metaphorically, has long captivated our imaginations. The heart is a fascinating organ that sustains life and influences emotions and actions. While the heart is often associated with kindness, love, and compassion, it can also exhibit darker aspects of human nature. Today I want to explore the duality of the human heart, highlighting its potential for both wickedness and kindness.
The Wickedness of the Human Heart:
Human history is replete with tales of cruelty, violence, and malevolence that originate from the depths of the human heart. Suffering and pain can be caused by actions stemming from evil thoughts in the heart. The seeds of wickedness can grow within and sprout as greed, envy, hatred, or revenge. The book of Jeremiah from the Bible echoes this message.
“The human heart is the most deceitful of all things and desperately wicked. Who really knows how bad it is? But I, the LORD, search all and examine secret motives. I give all people their due rewards, according to what their actions deserve.”
Jeremiah 17: 9-10
Selfishness and wrong beliefs have caused terrible acts throughout history. Some of the darkest moments in history have been centred around the human heart, including wars, genocides, violence, and oppression. It’s a reminder of the capacity for evil that lives within us.
The Kindness of the Human Heart:
However, amidst the wickedness, the human heart is also capable of immense kindness and compassion. It’s the source of love, empathy, and altruism that can lead to acts of selflessness and generosity. The heart encourages kindness and support towards others.
Comforting friends, helping strangers, and donating to charity are simple acts of kindness. It’s also evident in the tireless work of individuals and organisations that strive to address social injustices, fight for equality, and improve the well-being of others. The human heart, when guided by empathy and compassion, has the potential to create positive change and heal wounds.
The Balance of the Human Heart:
Human hearts contain a mix of both wickedness and kindness. Everyone has the potential for both good and evil, and their choices shape their path. Our hearts is not a static entity. It can evolve and transform over time, influenced by experiences, education, and personal growth. Acknowledging both wickedness and kindness within ourselves helps us understand our humanity and strive to cultivate a kind heart while rejecting wickedness.
The human heart is a complex entity that harbours both wickedness and kindness. It holds the capacity for great evil and the power to generate immense love and compassion. Reflecting on our actions helps us understand this paradox. By doing so, we can work towards creating a world that celebrates the inherent goodness within us and endeavours to minimise the wickedness that can sometimes arise.
The paradox of the human heart reminds us that our emotional experiences are complex, nuanced, and multifaceted. It encapsulates the simultaneous capacity for immense strength and vulnerability, guiding us to navigate the depths of our emotions with self-awareness and compassion. By embracing this paradox, we can achieve a more profound understanding of ourselves and others, resulting in a richer, more fulfilling human experience.
In our corners of the world, let’s make our world a better place!
In a world where silence can be deafening and noise overwhelming, we often underestimate the immense power of the right words. Words possess a profound ability to shape realities, ignite emotions, and create lasting imprints on the tapestry of our lives. With a single word, we can bridge the gap between souls, uniting hearts that were once strangers. We can kindle the flame of inspiration, awakening dormant dreams and pushing the boundaries of what is believed to be possible. A word of encouragement can breathe life into weary spirits, nurturing resilience and instilling the strength to persevere.
Yet, sometimes, words can be wielded as weapons, inflicting wounds that cut deeper than any physical pain. They can tear down the strongest foundations, shattering the delicate harmony of relationships and leaving lasting scars on vulnerable hearts. The damage inflicted by a thoughtless comment can reverberate for years, eroding confidence and casting shadows upon once vibrant souls. We can see plenty of evidence around. Just check social media, and the hatred is staggering!
Words can heal, uplift, build bridges, and tear them down. The right words can unite, divide, inspire, discourage, and empower. The responsibility lies with us, the custodians of language, to choose our words with care and intention, for they have the potential to leave indelible imprints on the lives of others.
Let’s harness the power of words to create worlds of compassion, empathy, and understanding. Let’s paint portraits of hope using vibrant colours of encouragement and affirmation. Let’s craft narratives that celebrate diversity, challenge injustice, and elevate the voices of the marginalised. In the symphony of human existence, may our words be the harmonious notes that resonate with love, empathy, and unity.
In the end, it’s through words that we connect, express, and shape the very essence of our humanity. Let’s never underestimate the power we hold within our tongues and pens. May we choose our words wisely, for they have the potential to transform lives and leave an enduring legacy in the tapestry of our collective existence. The Bible says in Proverbs 18:21, “a gentle tongue is a tree of life, but perverseness in it breaks the spirit.”
So let us embrace the beauty of kind words, like a field of blossoming flowers, and spread their gentle essence wherever we go. May we sow seeds of kindness through our words and make the world a more beautiful place.
Everyone you meet is fighting a secret battle. Let’s be kind.
S.S.David
The poems above are a series of contrasts and paradoxes which show the fragility of human existence and the assertion that we are all subject to eventual death, despite our best efforts to protect ourselves. And if we know that, shouldn’t that inform how we live? Shouldn’t we be kind to ourselves and others? Knowing that one day, we’ll move on from this part of heaven?
The second part of the stanza reveals themes of strength and resilience in the face of sorrow and adversity, and after destruction or decay, new growth and life will emerge. This poem played into the unfolding tragedy in Turkey and Syria, where over 17,000 people have sadly died. I know the raw emotions and despair of losing a loved one, but time heals all wounds, and I pray that anyone reading this will hold on to hope despite their adverse circumstances.
My love and prayers to the people of Turkey, Syria, Ukraine, and other parts of the world where there are suffering. Everyone is fighting a secret battle, let’s be kind.
Twenty-three years ago, I was a fresh graduate who was keen on saving the world from every form of evil and injustice. My armour was my pen, and I was operating within the laudable confines of free speech. I got a job with the local newspaper in my state and embarked on my journey.
I was unmarried then and as free as a bird. My salary was pitiable, but I was still living with my parents, and my bills were practically nonexistent. My dad was a firm believer in free speech with common sense, of course, so he taught me to write and report on issues affecting the ‘average person’ and that I should be upright and fearless. I took his advice and within a few months, I got promotion from roaming the fields looking for ‘breaking news’ to having a desk at the State House of Assembly (our House of Common here in the UK).
I was hungry for news and reported on mundane and boring things like the House Members sponsoring a Bill etc. One day, I was finishing my report when a member of the opposition party approached me, and dropped a paper on my desk.
‘See me at the Press Centre’, he said quietly.
Intrigued, I wanted to know more. As a respectable journalist, I believed in reporting the truth; I have to be impartial.
Later that evening, I met the gentleman, and he handed over some documents that were so hot, I turned bright red. The governor of the state had misappropriated over two hundred and forty-one million naira, (equivalent of almost a hundred million pounds), and although fear ripped through my body, I stuck by my principles and arranged an editorial meeting with my editor.
My parents were petrified. My mum voiced her concerns for my safety, but I was unperturbed. I was dabbling into the unknown world of mucky politics. My dad tried everything he could to dissuade me from publishing the story, but failed.
Although my editor was delighted for such a large ‘scoop,’ he was hesitant. However, I stuck to my guns. The public deserved to know the truth about the misappropriation of funds, and we published the story. The effect ripped through the state like a tsunami.
Luckily, I didn’t die through assassination attempts on my life like my dad had feared. After the ruckus died down, my dad was adamant that I should stick to writing articles and novels rather than investigating corrupt government officials. I took his advice, and I was glad I did.
What was I getting at? You may wonder. I believe in free speech but with the emergence of the internet and mobile technology, everyone has become a ‘source’ and misinformation and online bullying has reached a crescendo. People should be responsible online, words are powerful, it can build people up, or it may destroy them.
There are several ways we can change our world, and I think it starts with kindness, which is in short supply nowadays.
As a journalist, I believe in the power of free speech, but ‘keyboard’ warriors spurting hatred, racism and misogyny abound on social media, and that is disheartening.
The world is changing but if we think before we type anything online, we might be saving a life.
I love the story of redemption. The ability to be able to start again, rebuild and succeed appeals to me immensely.
And that’s what heaven did through Jesus’s crucifixion on the cross. No matter how bad we’ve erred the fact that there is redemption means heaven is looking at our frailty through the eyes of grace.
I am a product of heaven’s grace through the redemptive power of Jesus, and I am proud of that.
I leave you with this song from the Prince of Egypt ‘Through Heaven’s Eyes,’ it blesses my soul. Have a fabulous week ahead, friends!
S. S. David 