This crowd

 

This crowd
Will not make me stand still,
arms folded, sulking on a busy Lagos road
like I did not leave my house with a destination in mind.

Like I didn’t get excited
When I saw the news headline
that “Zulu is coming to Oak town”

These faces
Will not make me question the journey,
this distance between two worlds
and how fit my legs are for the run.

They were not there

When the resolve came,

that this was my path to take.

 

This moment
Will not make me question my faith because really,
I feel alone here and something is crawling up my skin
And honestly, it’d be easier to blend in;
to act like it doesn’t matter, to become the other.

This room is not worth eternity.

I know I’m short;
hind feet stretching yet un-reaching sometimes
But I promise I’d climb a tree if I have to
because this crowd will not make me go back home.

Like:
I didn’t have a reason for waking up;

and my dream was to become the people-moving behind his feet.

I want to have a conversation
and standing is not the solution to this hot sun.

This spot right here will not become the tomb of my dreams
It doesn’t deserve it.

 

“And he entered and was passing through Jericho. And behold, a man called by name Zacchæus; and he was a chief publican, and he was rich. And he sought to see Jesus who he was; and could not for the crowd, because he was little of stature.

And he ran on before, and climbed up into a sycomore tree to see him: for he was to pass that way. And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up, and said unto him, Zacchæus, make haste, and come down; for to-day I must abide at thy house.”
‭‭Luke‬ ‭19:1-5‬ ‭ASV‬‬

PS: In the past few months, many things have happened in my life, it feels like many seasons in one. A major one though, is that I resumed work life in a corporate institution and it’s beginning to look like adulthood just swam up on me 🤭.

Like hold up, one minute I’m yippee yippee, and the other, I’m now this person, independent sort of. A few times, I’ve had the inner conversation of how, there are many faces in this new life and how my unique voice should not go silent.

I’ve had to look on to see if my dreams are still valid, and it was in on of these moment that I remembered Mr Zacchaeus, and how like him I feel too short on days when I want to reach out to purpose just ahead of me.

I can go on and on, but I simply pray that this piece somehow encourages you to not feel odd, unqualified or insecure in any new season of your life.

And that like him, you’d climb a tree if you have to😘.

Have a beautiful week ahead.