Letters to God—Lost Daughter

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God looks down on us even when we can’t look up to Him

Hello Lovely Family, It’s a Monday and we are back with a #LetterstoGod. I am super excited to present #Dharmie our guest writer who has packaged this wonderful letter. Just dig in and do not forget to drop your comments and share.


Dear God,

I was in bed with Kunle when You called last night, I was wondering why You called.

Twenty something years ago or more maybe, I dropped from the skies.

Some said I had a mother but I doubt that was true.

I grew up on the streets- That was the only home I knew.


Many call me runs babe but I would rather be called a man magnet.

I sleep with men, all shapes and sizes for their money and the bills they pay.

Just last week, Caro died of AIDS.

I still wonder why I tested negative, we both slept with the same men.


The night club where I work, the Police came to raid last week.

They arrested everyone they saw,

It was something about a murder case.

How they didn’t see me in my room that night, I really cannot explain.


Just last month, my period didn’t come,

I took a test, it was positive.

I couldn’t figure who the father was, Saheed or Khaleed?

They both had me the same night.

So I sorted myself with sniper.


My new client was a robber, he got killed today by armed men.

I was hit while trying to escape from the gun battle.

Ouch!!! The pains from the doctor’s knife,

This is torture, I can’t believe I survived.


Now I remember, it was a priest who brought me here.

I remember he gave me a small leaflet when I was moved to the theatre.

I couldn’t read it, my eyes were still blurry.

But I saw it, written in blood red prints,

“He still loves you”.


I don’t know how I know, but you’ve been here all along,

Even though I wasn’t good enough.

I can’t even dial your number,

I don’t even know how to make a speech.

But if you can hear me,

We need to talk-

Please call me back.


              Your daughter,

              Lost but found.

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Grace finds us


Say no to Insurgency and Yes to a peaceful Nigeria.

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Letters to God—Chidinma


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Hello Lovely Family, it’s a Monday and I am super excited to present you the first in the #LetterstoGod for this year. I have a guest writer and you can check out her blog here

I love the way the words flow. It speaks of an intimacy that everyone yearns to have with the Father. I hope you are blessed by this.

Dear Father,

It’s me your child. I have decided to write you to pour out my heart.

Firstly Dad, I am grateful to you for all you have done for me. I grew up knowing and being taught there is a Chukwu but I am glad I am one of those who have tested and are convinced you exist.

Being your child is beautiful; the speedy access to you through prayers, your response to prayers through the Word, your timely interventions which results to miracles. Baba, you are just too much.

You make no mistakes and this is evident in your choice of making me a girl although sometimes when it’s that time of the month, I may be tempted to think being a boy were better but I am glad you know your baby girl doesn’t mean it; life could have been boring in another gender-skin.

I recognize that Uncountable times, I have hurt you and you haven’t failed for once to forgive me. Even as I write this, we are yet to reconcile fully but I think you deserve to know *you are the best friend anyone can have.* You desire truth from the inward and once you get it, you don’t spill, it’s not your nature. If men heard my true life story, I would be an outcast by now. Thank you so much for being faithful in our relationship. Lord, you know how much I want to always make you proud, you know how much I long to faithfully keep my end of the bargain but my flesh fails me and striving so hard to disgrace me.

I hate that I can’t trust myself. I am deeply sorry for all the very many ways I have messed up. Please, forgive me. I really want to dwell with you in that beautiful kingdom in eternity. Don’t give up yet on me my Dearest Heart. Your love will overcome my weaknesses.

The truth is, there are real struggles as a girl. The journey to the future is quite a journey. Sometimes, it’s scary what steps to take and steps to avoid. My favorite name for you is: The God who knows the end from the beginning. Although the sweet Holy Spirit has been wonderful in guiding but I must confess, there are times I neglect His counsel consciously and unconsciously. Daddy, this is not a case of letting me have my way, please, I need your redirection at all the times I stray. Despite my stubbornness, check my heart, it’s in you alone I trust.

My Best Friend, I really want to fulfil purpose. I want you to be proud of not wasting creation materials on me. I want to be your best friend just as you are mine. I want to teach people how to love you. I want to be successful. I want to have a treat for being faithful to you for just one month (let’s start there). I want to have my family (although you know I have this cute crush but your will not mine be done). I want to touch your face whenever I get to see you.

Bless my family,

Bless my friends,

Bless my enemies.

Please, bring the right people my way.

My first love, there is really none like you. You are simply awesome. Thank you for being God!

I love you dearly.

From your naughtiest daughter,

Chidinma Ibemere


Say no to insurgency and Yes to a peaceful Nigeria.

P.S We would be posting every Monday. Stay tuned. I love you all and God loves you more than you will ever know. You can also check out previous posts here


Hello Lovely Family, I am excited to present my first guest writer of the year *drum rolls*. Her name is Tolu. She is exceptional and you won’t help but fall in love with her. Tolu you owe me a beautiful Ankara bag for all the beautiful things I am saying. This post drives home a very vital point that GOD cares, it might not seem like that but He does care. I hope it speaks to you as it did speak to me. What is the point of writing if we cannot inspire lives. That for me is the entire purpose of using this gift God has given me. He has called and I have answered: “Here I am Lord, use me.” 

I will posting on the blog once every week on Monday praying and hoping that the words do come or I get a guest writer to do a post. That said; JUMP IN.

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I got home, undressed and laid in bed,

soon lost in thought , my day played out in my head.

The last feeling I imagined I would ever feel was that of dread and anxiety.

I didn’t think I’d be having a pityparty.

What went wrong with my strong resolve to rebel, and live life on the edge?

I had set out this morning with a strong desire to revenge.

On who you might be wondering?

On God of course!

Yes God.

How can he claim to love me?

Since He has closed his eyes to all the pains I have endured, then He shouldn’t care if my body I decide to share.

He had allowed this child to be constantly molested before she knew what the word meant.

He turned away when as a young adult she was raped.

He was no where when I cried and begged him to save me.

He abandoned me when I needed him the most.

Those who should have held me close betrayed my trust.

They used me for their own pleasures.

He simply shouldn’t have allowed it to happen.

He should have stopped them from damaging my life.

They stole my innocence.

They rendered my childhood memories, memories filled with pain and horror.

Oh but this is far from how I thought I’d feel when I decided to take my revenge.

Instead of glee, I feel raw guilt.

Instead of triumph, I feel deep shame

Instead of rejoicing, I am weeping bitterly!


And in the emotional storm, I hear a calm voice “for I know the thoughts I have towards you, thoughts of good and not of evil….” and at that moment i realised I was wrong all along;

He was not to blame, and neither was I.


It wasn’t His fault these things happened, He gave every man the freewill to make choices and that THEY did.

He loved me just the way I was.

I was perfect in his eyes.

Nothing they had done could taint his vision of me.

He loved me.

He just loved me.

He was there every time I cried, every pain I felt he felt also.

He had held my hands all those time but I hadn’t known it.

He was the reason why the pain had not consumed me.

I could put my trust in Him and know that he would always be there for me.

He had plans for me, all I had to do was trust Him.

And as I felt His loving warmth in my distress,

I knew without a doubt that He cares.

He truly cares for me.

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Say no to Insurgency and Yes to a peaceful Nigeria.

Use the Hashtag #IamALLEN and #Hecares. Tell a friend to tell a friend to tell a friend to visit the blog. You can read, share, comment and subscribe. Also if you have issues you want me to write about, feel free to send a mail to Helenchels@gmail.com. 



I carry the weight of my shame.
It’s so heavy that I stumble when I walk.
It spills forth into the street for everyone to see.
I hear the sighs and taunts.
I hear the sniggers and whispers.
I see them laugh at me and I bow my head in shame.
But they made me what I am.
They led me down this road.
I open my thighs every night and I feel nothing.
Shame and guilt eats deep into me.
I have lost hope.
There is no redemption for me.
Where do I even begin from?
Who would love and accept me?
I carry my shame as a deformity.
They call me that ‘name’ that is only spoken in whispers.
You know that harry potter film; ‘he who must not be named’
That is the name they call me,a name too dirty that it cannot be mentioned in polite company.
They think I do not hear but I do and a searing pain rips through my heart.
I die every day, a part of me buried with every one of these men.
I have no dreams, no future.
This life is all I know, it’s what I was born into.
You sit there from your high throne and mock me.
You think yourself righteous.
You think you have a right to judge.

Who gave you that right?
No one.
You hear me, No one.

Do you know what it means not to have hope, to live in depression, not to know where your next meal would come from?
Have you felt fear, have you starved?
Have you felt the biting cold, the rain pelting down your back, the scorching sun and you knew there was no shelter to run into.
Have you woken up each morning and wished death could take you because life had no meaning, each day left a bitter taste in your mouth.

No, you do not know what it means to stand on that road day after day.
You do not know what it takes out of me.
If you knew, you would hide your face in shame.
When you know, when you have walked a mile in my shoes, then you can judge.
Until then keep quiet. Say nothing. Turn a blind eye. Do nothing.
Doing nothing is what got me here. So why should you do any less.

I want better you know, I watch the television and I want a charmed life too.
I close my eyes when he goes into me and I live my fairy tale, it makes the time move quickly.
I want love too and I imagine it was someone I love holding me in his embrace.
I want to have hope, I do not want to go to bed each night and soak the sheets with my tears.

I want this sham of an existence I live to end.
I want more out of life.


We are a people decadent and I do not say this lightly.
I use ‘We’ to show that I am included.
Moral decay has eaten into the fabrics of our existence.
You see I pass through ‘Allen’ Mondays to Saturdays and I am ashamed at what I see.

I used to laugh at the sight until Chioma Ngaikedi made me have a rethink. Thanks dear.
I am forced to acknowledge that it’s not often their choice of living, that at times that’s all they know.

Oh yes you can give examples of people who have been poor and yet not had to engage in such actions to survive.
Now I am not saying that what they do is right.

Prostitution in any sense is wrong but it is easier for you to condemn and say you won’t be involved but alas you have never felt what they feel.

It’s easier to stand at a distance and feel all self-righteous but you have never known what it means to have no hope. You still think you are any better right?
What of ‘bae’ that you sleep with, has he married you; he is boyfriend abi and you are the girlfriend right. What do they call it: ‘Bae and Boo’. What is the difference between the both of you, oh you are not standing on the road. I see clearly.

The ‘Boo’ in question, you think you are any less different from the lady standing on the road, No! you are not, when you are stocking ‘body count’ like a pile of inventory. ‘Bae’ you think you are any different from the guy who patronises them. My darling you are not any better. You stand accused just like them.

Along the road where they stand, there are two churches and a school and I wonder how two churches and a school can be located side by side a bar.

We pass through and the bus conductors call at them and the ladies hurl abuses at them and I laugh at their antics but it hides a shame. I am ashamed for them, I am ashamed that they live in a country that cannot support them. I am ashamed that for them that’s the only hope they have.

And you should hear the stories the passengers have to tell.
My colleague says you can’t have a husband who works on Allen and allow him leave the house angry.

I am disappointed that this is the level we have descended to.
Is that what we have turned to?
You see if there are no ‘men’ to patronise them, they won’t be on the road. Day in day out cars stop and our ‘men’ come out to ask for their ‘services’ and I am bewildered by the sight.

I am sorry that this is the life they know.  I am ashamed that this is what they have to do to survive. I feel guilty that I can’t do anything about it.

When next you see one, don’t be in a hurry to condemn.  You have not walked in their shoes, you do not know their circumstances.

Above all in their imperfections they carry the image of the perfect God.


He is who without sin let him be the first to cast a stone.


Say no to insurgency and Yes to a peaceful Nigeria.