This is Cudjoe here again. Did I say Cudjoe? Okay this is Emmanuel here again with yet another post. I think it will be wise for everyone to know my full name since many tend to be confused when it comes to addressing me.
People wonder whether my name is Cudjoe or Emmanuel. And again I’ll like to re-iterate my name again.
My name(s) is are Emmanuel Kabenlah Cudjoe. Call me by any of these and I’d gladly respond.
Today’s post is dubbed, ‘A Letter to my Maker’. Yes, I’m going to write a letter to God.
I would be ungrateful human being if I don’t show sincere gratitude to those who offered to help when I was hit with a big blow at the face.
The name Marilynn Cada can’t be left out. Look at the email she sent me and what she intend doing has done for me.
hi kabenlah. i want to help you in your problem though not financially..but in other means… such as promoting your blog in blogengage for free
i am a subscriber of blogengage and pays around 9.99 pounds a month and the number of blogs that i can submit is limitless. any blog that will be submitted will be promoted to other websites such as topblogged.com and will be sent to RSS feeds
In blogengage i am also allowed to post blogs that are not mine ..which means i can post your blog in blogengage for free… i will not ask any exchange for that,… i just really want to help at least to ease your pain….
but if you decided to join in blogengage. you cannot submit post in blogengage that i already submitted…. for instance, i submitted your post about Emmanuel in Deep Sh*t, you cannot submit it since they are already in the records of blogengage..
i am planning to submit all of your posts and until you become financially stable and have a credit card of your own so that you could subscribe to blogengage
I received another mail from her again this was how it went,
this is the link of one of your posts in blog engage
Madam Marily Cada, I’m really grateful for kind support. Thank you a million times.
Hey not Madam Cada alone but Babajide from Sbabzy.com has offered to help me as well. This was his last email to me.
I see your point now.. No problem, will get back to you bro.
CEO & Founder.
Hot Tips On Business,Personal Development,Blogging and Relationship
Hey bro, thanks.
There were many of people who were more than willing to help me as well. To you all, I say thank you and those who of course shared their condolences. I’m of course saying thank you.
Today’s post has being necessitated through a chat I was having with a friend on Facebook and a sad one indeed.
One of his friends has committed suicide. What caused that? And it was simply because of the closure of Libertyreserve. All his money were gone and he felt like he had no hope than to commit suicide. That’s horrific indeed!
Enough of all of these and let’s move to my letter. This letter in the form of a poem and is addressed to my Maker. I hope Angel Gabriel delivers straight into his Royal Majesty on time.
A Letter to my Maker.
I am a Hapless beholder,
I am armed
With patience, prudence and prayers
Though demanding water
Of different sort
No seed survives
Too much water
Nor yet too little
None sprouts before its time
None also delays a second longer
The panic of growing older
Without a penny
Spreads fluttering wings
From year to year
At twenty two
Stilled by the hope of gigantic success
Time and exploration
Will certainly determine the unknown
The future will surely tell
Naked I stand
In front of the Heavensgate
Awaiting for your faithful servant- Abraham
To cloth me eternally
There is no love and kindness
Where I came from- The Planet Earth
Hear my humble cries
Is my face in the book unknown?
Give me a sign
The Street here,
Built to please the eye and subserve the foot
Our streets are no longer beauty domain
With dust untamed by asphalt, grass or tar
Potholes filled and re-filled with loose red earth
Our streets are open with trash cans
Man traps, roads unworthy of vehicles
Shops spill their plastic contents
Like dismembered pregnant uteri
The street is an extension of homes
It is market , battlefield, play-pen, loo
It is the living, dinning and guest room
The street is unforgiving and for some
It is the suite and the final berth
Many lives it bores but yet with no sweet mother
Come and see where I live
Here my driftwood body has beached
Ask not which currents dumped me there
Nor which tides shall bear me next
Nothing has changed
No, nothing at all has changed
The day the butchers came in jeeps
And drove away the sacrificial lamb
Till date, nothing at all has changed
In my country, developing country
Arrival is not a problem
I will excel or rather die trying
Your servant carves for your mercy
Above all Lord
I need your LOVE.
Emmanuel Kabenlah Cudjoe.
This is the end of my letter to my Maker. Ha..ha..