Songs of Mata

Sometimes I wish I looked more like Nana Her beauty requires no powder, no cream Her hair firm, a Fijian halo to her frame Strength and poise - her hallmark Dr Apolonia, Qasenivuli, Ma, Nana I know not a better woman   In the everyday quiet mundane her words like the calm burning tree, whether we’re in the kitchen,   around a grog bowl or in the garden. whether she's laughing with me,   praying, or yelling,   her wisdom builds me each time Life has spun and spun seasons through her.   storms, suns and droughts   all the while, she remains anchored shedding light to truth and planting truths in tomorrows so much so that I know before learning, so much so   that I love without feeling   and I’ve seen before looking.. one day I hope to look more like Nana

Your worship can be accepted and it can be rejected. Cain didn’t realise that giving, even his second best would become the unfavorable offering in Gods eyes. I remember, years ago, at a Conference, there was a time of praise and worship, and a sweet melody was in the room, His Holy Spirit touching our hearts, all of a sudden, with my eyes closed and my hands in the air, I felt that God was impressing upon my heart, to kneel before Him in that auditorium, amidst all these strangers, who I guess were also in worship. But before considering to kneel, this option entered my mind and I thought why don’t I just check if other people are worshipping too, are kneeling, I might be the weird one who’s kneeling at this song that’s been sung multiple times.. the second I opened my eyes to check, I felt the Spirit of God tell me “ you just cheapened your worship ”, and I was done for.   Worship is Gods love language.  Now, when I think of worship, I can’t help but think of the poo

So yesterday I realized something about myself. I now see my level of insecurity. This process started with me reading AW Tozers “Knowledge of the Holy”. Its early chapters talk about the sovereignty, independence and eternity of God, and that God has need of absolutely nothing and no one. If God did have a need, He would not be God, instead it would be the thing God needs. Its abit like the plot of the movie “Titans” where Zeus, the Greek God creates humans and then somehow actually lives on their prayers, which enabled a demi-God who was raised in the movement of human rebellion decide that he would go after Hades and in the process, save the rest of the Gods (Olympus).  This is not what our God is like, He does not live on our prayers, does not need saving, isn’t dumb like Olympus.  Ok so where am I getting to with all this? Here it is, I thought God needed me. Laughable? YES Unaware? All this time Demonic? Most definitely! See, the Truth that God doesn’t have a

The first time I ever got so sick I was down in bed for four whole days Had to force myself to eat a tiny  piece of Cassava a day,  just so I can swallow my pills after. As soon as I felt the fatigue,  cough and headache I took myself to Dr Yee Chief in flagstaff.  She told me all she knew,  checked my breathing and wrote some scribbles  on a paper, encoded life that  only the pharmacist could decipher I don’t know why I  didn’t rush there this time See, when you first realize that you might have a mental illness Your immediate reaction isn’t to go see Dr Yee Chief in flagstaff It’s not due to the weather, who’s probably tired of  being blamed left, right and centre here in Suva. You don’t even google search the symptoms cos google might tell you you’re dying and you might like it.  Depending on anything and nothing, you sit there thinking, this makes sense and no sense at all. And what would going to a doct

Death is meant to be simple Straightforward You die, lay in a coffin and sink into the soil We all know our day is coming.   Hold a funeral, and grieve your loss till you can walk again No one talks about the death you experience while breathing, while laughing.   Tell me why is there a coffin in my chest The best of me laying in it My body pretending It isn’t a corpse, battered and bruised by half promises and ‘maybe’ hopes. Tell me why can’t I see past today? It’s like, tomorrow doesn’t exist My today is tired of   carrying yesterdays mistakes This coffin is heavy, and so everyday I wake with it sometimes hoping that today will be burial day

I caught the bus the other day It was a rusty old thing  Didn’t really know where it was going  I didn’t even wanna leave I caught the bus the other day It still had those open windows with The tapuline looking thing That tapuline looking thing  Didn’t even keep the rain out Only the sun I caught the bus the other day And I don’t even know when I caught it Where I got on from When am I getting off I caught the bus the other day And now I’m scared to get off