Jaachi Writes

Let's be realistic here, the bible is not to be blamed. Most denominational doctrines are a product of one man's ideas, preference. No biblical backing whatsoever.  I come from a denomination where rules that don't really matter are imposed on members.  It's actually more of an INTELLECTUAL issue than a SPIRITUAL ISSUE. The Devil's Box My pastor once called the television the black box of the devil. I struggled with that theory. I doubted it. I opposed it as a teen. Wondered why such wonderful invention should be credited to the devil. Decades later, he is on that same black box. The devil's box sits in our churches today. It owns a space in our homes. The devil won or the television got converted, baptized and filled with the spirit of God? That's not the issue here though, it baffles me, no member made attempt to seek an apology for the psychological abuse he has done them. Well, we can't. He's the founder. God's​ oracle. You dare not question

bashful, timid, quiet.  shy If anyone you know has used these terms to describe you, you're probably a bit shy. Everyone feels that way once in a while. Shyness and social anxiety are common, no matter how old you are. There is one myth about social anxiety and social anxiety disorder that I would like to dispel. The myth says that social anxiety is just exaggerated shyness. This myth encourages the idea that anxious people are merely weak-willed pushovers. It is partially because of this myth, I think, that well-intentioned people offer the relevant but insensitive and patronizing advice like, “Don’t worry about it!” , “Just do it” and “Face your fears.”  Thinking on all these, I wrote this poem: shy when a shy person speaks, it's like music from guitar strings. when a shy person smiles, it’s like the sun coming out when a shy person steps out it's like the uncommon visit of gods when a shy person reclines it feels like moon eloped from night when a shy person is 'i

Ailing Faith in nights like this, i look at the stars and wonder if they are your eyes or just glowing ashes of your fading existence; dear god, you died and was cremated? in nights like this, many questions whirl in my mind, i do not want to believe anymore i just want to know, so god, listen (if your ears are not heavy, or inclined to the prayers of your faithful few) to my fears in time past, i felt your presence, but in nights like this, if I tell you how empty I feel, would you put the blame on me? did I make me? was i a happenstance? why create faulty humans and blame an erstwhile angel for your mistake? in time past, i found myself in the mirror of your word (back then when it felt like i am no one - from feeling like nothing to feeling like "i'm the one!") but all what i thought were tingles of your love now make me throw up at every mention of you in nights like this, i feel that the only one i can trust is "me" because i am closer to me

Greetings! My name is Jaachi and I run a website called Poemify that is all about poetry, fiction and non fictional literature.  When I was out of secondary school, I managed to create/design blogs/websites for clients and also successfully ran a news blog that earned me fat figures. That was how I got started. Since then I've been working from home and experimenting with different ways to use blogs to make a living. While I have had some success, that doesn’t mean that my way is the only way. In fact, there are people out there making a hell of a lot more money than I do. That being said, the methods that will be outlined below are much safer, though slow. Yes! S. L. O. W.  I've always been the kind of person who takes his time to learn, unlearn and relearn and would choose a slow-growth but secure online income over some Apian way method that might work really well or not at all.  So, if you're looking for a super-fast get-rich-quick ponzi-look-alike kind of scheme, this

because melancholic these thoughts make me think of a time before the coital pleasure of two jolted me from a still state of nothingness to this ever spinning ball of madness overwhelms my frail grip on hope if now these thoughts tilt towards death do not make me feel guilty for feeling sad this darkness which blanks my mind drips like weeping clouds on the rusty roof of my tongue and words that magnify dirges come rolling off my lips as I say a prayer to deaf gods who delight in burning my soul on the livid pages of immoral desires if now this darkness tilt towards death do not make me feel guilty for feeling sad lest i walk through a graveyard and find refuge in my future funeral this thought this darkness pray tell, what doth my pen scribble? sighs #Pengician  #JaachiWrites

For Boys Like Us I was in Ulasi Road Primary School with Naeto Uche Njie for a video shoot of his spoken word piece. We had just finished the first and second scenes and sat on the school football field to review the video when I suggested a third scene.  Uche desired to feature a boy. Any boy. Just any boy. We scanned the field in search of wandering boys and found a sachet water hawker. His name, Chimaobi. Uche gestured at him to come over. He started towards us, a bowl of his ware on his head, a scowl on his face, dust plastered feet in a worn pair of slipper. Uche engaged him in a conversation in Igbo language. They talked about his education, family, child labour, the boy child, endless hopes and hopeless ends.  "Agara m school na Monday. Ubochi ndi ozo, m ga re pure water". (I go to school on Mondays. On other days, I sell sachet water). I'd pause replying a chat and shift my gaze to his face. I could see he's not satisfied. His voice betrayed him. Poor boy.  W