Author: Olú Abíkóyè

My laptop flew off the desk… and everything blurred. Five years of research. A looming deadline. My entire thesis. I just sat there — hot, cold, angry, blank. And still, I didn’t shout. I didn’t thunder. I didn’t let my disappointment speak.

He asked for wisdom. He got it. Then he collected horses, wives, and regrets.
This diary entry is a hilarious, heartfelt reflection on Solomon, divine love, and what it means to be wildly blessed even while our foolishness is still loading.

A Workers’ Day letter for those still showing up — even when their soul clocked out at 9:07 a.m.

Let’s be honest, if Samson lived in 2025, he’d probably have a blue tick on Instagram, a gym selfie routine, and a PR crisis manager on speed dial.

By the time Florence got the full story at church—thanks to Barbie Doll—her mental ledger of our offences was flipping through pages like a litany on an invisible scroll.

Dear Diary,January 7, 2025 I am not an actress, so I wonder why my life is full of drama. Today, I was so mad that I began to laugh. Ask me what happened? I woke up at 6 a.m., and all I wanted was a quick hot bath to kickstart my day and set the…

When a shadow interrupted my perfect moment of bliss, I opened my eyes to something I never could have prepared for—a bold, unsolicited anatomy lesson.

In a world often unkind, surrendering to vulnerability becomes the true miracle of self-compassion, offering both peace and resilience.

You know how sometimes you feel like something’s creeping too close in your space, and you whisper, “St Michael – the Archangel, defend me”? Yeah, that’s his cue.

At the edge of a dream, I stood before a radiant vision, where light poured into the ocean, painting the world in vivid colours—a scene of overwhelming beauty and profound mystery.