The Abortion Series


When I was younger and less God conscious, my stance on this was categorical. If I ever found myself pregnant and unmarried, I would quietly pay the doctor a visit and end the matter there and then. I wouldn’t tell anyone so as not to give them the opportunity to try and convince me otherwise…or judge me. No one would know about it, not even the father of the child. Life would carry on and I might feel a little bad initially but I’d get over it.

Now that I’m older, I realise it’s not that simple…mentally, emotionally and physically.

Now that I’m more God conscious, I better understand the spiritual gravity of the action.

Fundamentally, I am anti-abortion but I understand why it’s an option for many.  There are many reasons why people choose to have abortions, some seemingly frivolous and others, arguably justifiable. Nowadays, I’d like to think that if I was ever faced with the option, it wouldn’t be an option but every now and again I stumble on a scenario that makes me question my stance.  I can only pray that if I ever have to make a choice, God helping me, I’ll do right by Him and by association, me.

I’ve been thinking about this incessantly for the last 48hours and have decided to do another series. The first story is in the pipeline and I aim to publish it tomorrow *fingers crossed.* How many stories will make up the series? Will it be a collection of shorts or a sustained piece?  You’ll find out when I do!

Stay tuned!!!



Introducing: Waila Waits

Hey Guys,

It’s been an interesting morning for me.

For many months I’ve toyed with the idea of starting up another blog. In fact, I setup the blog the same time I did this one but it has been lying dormant. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve tried to go live with it. The timing never felt right.

This morning I woke up and the first thing I did was reach for my laptop. By the time I headed into the shower to get ready for work, I’d written my first post for Waila Waits. Yes, it’s called Waila Waits.

A few people have asked me why, what’s the difference between WailaCaan and WailaWaits?

Waila Waits is my online journal of my thoughts on God, the Bible, spirituality and being a Christian at my age, in this day and age. Unlike Waila Caan, its mandate is very specific.

It will be honest. It will be real.

It will be written from my heart.

Check it out!



Dear God, Please Help Waila!

Dear God,

How are you? I bet you’re fine, after all, you are God and nothing fazes you. As for me, I have a little problem. I feel a bit silly complaining about it because I know there are many starving children in Africa and millions of lost souls in the world. In the grand scheme of things, my issue is irrelevant but seeing as I know you care about the little things too, I’ll tell you anyway. The sun is out and I feel fat. Actually, I don’t just feel fat, I am fat. I thought by now I would have lost all my Christmas weight but no, if anything, I’ve thrown a few more pounds in for good measure. It’s not like I ate much over Christmas. Okay, so I ate an insane number of beef rolls from Tantalizers and overdosed on that mayonnaise infested Chick Wizz from Chicken Republic but surely, that’s not enough to turn me into a baby elephant?! Wait, I did eat quite a lot of Mossa and suya too.  Plus there was my secret stash of Cadbury’s Fingers. Oh, I also ate plenty of Indomie, Chinese and Jollof rice but I wasn’t the only one so why did I get ALL the flabs?!

Anyway, what is done is done. My problem now is that the sun is out and I’m fat. I need you to magic all these pounds away. You can do ANYTHING and you know I BELIEVE that! I saw a girl walking the streets near naked today. I realised I had a problem when instead of being appalled at how tiny and transparent her dress was, I was vexed that I didn’t have a body like hers to flaunt. Is that why you won’t help me lose weight…because you know I will walk around naked too? I won’t God, I promise! I will cover all my reproductive organs and at least half my thighs (gotta flaunt a little something) and I won’t wear short t-shirts with leggings. I promise! You know I have till the end of April to look hot for Tomato’s wedding. April only just started but you know how time flies. I hear there will be cute guys at that wedding and my statistics must be up to date.  You know, 34-24-34. And so shall it be!

While we are on the topic of weight loss, there’s something I’ve been dying to know. Is there food in heaven? I reckon there isn’t which is why I try and eat as much as I can while I’m still alive. My friend Stinkus reckons there is. Is she right? If there is, is it stuff like manna (not sure I’ll like that stuff) and quail or will there be Thai food, complete with chilli o? Please tell me before I eat myself to an early grave only to meet food in heaven…it won’t be funny at all!

I know there are many more prayers you need to attend to so I won’t take up any more of your time. Please just do this for me and I promise not to get fat again…not immediately anyway. God bless you or rather, please bless yourself.



The Summer of 2006: Beware of False Prophets

I couldn’t stop fainting and the doctors couldn’t tell me what the problem was. Each time I fainted, I would get rushed to A&E. After running umpteen tests the verdict was always the same; we can’t find any irregularities.

Where I come from, every problem is spiritual. A cold is never just a cold. It is your grandmother’s cousin’s friend’s enemy’s spirit tormenting you. “I know what we should do,” said Aunty H to my mother, “let’s take her to see my pastor. He is a prophet too.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said to my mother.

“You have started. You are too stubborn. Is it not just prayer? Why do you always think you know best?” On and on she went. After receiving dozens of phone calls from concerned family members, I gave in.

As soon as I walked into the ‘church’, the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. I knew I was in trouble. Dear God, if you get me out of this place in one piece, I will never disobey you again! We walked into the prophet’s office to find two characters waiting for us. Nollywood movie time. Prophet was sporting the strangest looking beard and his sidekick looked like something out of the Pirates of the Caribbean. God, I’m grateful you know how to handle jokers like this ‘cause I certainly don’t! I searched my memory for every scripture I knew on warfare. I realised I hadn’t been reading my bible as diligently as I should. God, I will change. I promise. Just deliver me!

‘Madam, what is the matter?’ asked the prophet.

‘She has been fainting and the doctors can’t find any reason for it,’ my mother replied.

Suddenly the sidekick started hopping around on one leg. “Argh, argh, argh!” he groaned.

Shut up my friend, what’s wrong with you?!

“There is a crown on her head!” the pastor screamed.

Blood of Jesus! I reject it! He who the son sets free is free indeed! Thunder fire you!

“There are rings on her fingers,” he continued.

God forbid! It is you that will marry the devil. Rabababarobobo!

“Release her now!”

Robosandarababa! No weapon of the enemy fashioned against me will prosper! God help me o!

“It is lifting, yes, it is lifting!”

Father, forgive me for coming here. Have mercy on me!

The sidekick, who had been hopping and groaning all this while, suddenly stood still.

“Madam, it is over now but there are two things she must buy, said prophet. The deliverance prayer book is £10 and the special oil is £15. There are some other things too. You can buy them if you have spare change. ”

Giving all present the dirtiest look my eyes could manage, I stormed out of the building.

Shababarobobo. I didn’t stop speaking in tongues for days!

Prophet, three words for you. YOU NEED JESUS.

xxx MEE