BashorunsBlog

My loveliest queen to be.

The Muse whom my full days would be spent in continous admiration.

Let me stop with the compliments now.

For i could fill all the papayus sheets along the Nile with words and still not tire.

I thank the creator for His precious gift today.

The gift of Life,
His breath that continually sustains our clay like mortal bodies.

How are you doing my dearest?

I know those boys are still chasing you like bloodhounds on a trail.

Well
Who won't?

With such beauty you radiate like the North star,
Wise men will want to follow.

With such graceful steps in which you move,
All would want to follow never minding the destination.

With such sweet and meek voic...

I am doing it again aren't I?

Well.
Forgive me Nwuye mm.

I wanted to tell you somethings about me Iyawo mi.

I wanted you to hear from the horses mouth Imaami.

Books upon books, you may have read up.

Seminar upon seminars you may have attended.

Burnt plates upon burnt pots, you may have stacked up.

Hours and hours of sitting you may have spent.

Sitting down under the tutelage of your mentors and mama.

All to know more about me.

Keep doing all that aponke mi.
But you can add these to them all.

*Communicate with God more Asa m*

For I am bringing in crazy baggages you will need Him to carry for you.

I am not perfect you know.
And my words will fail to heal your heart anytime I will break it.

*Gird yourself in prayerful attires aponbepore mi*

For the temptress that keeps assaulting me, now and in future, cannot be physically challenged.

*Build your character mi dear*

For no amount of sweet delicacies would mask that flaw.

*Keep a bridle on your tongue Bae*

For nothing turns me off like a woman with a loose tongue.

*I lovee Banga, nwanyi m*

So please stop perfecting your Indomie noddles.

*Ewedu and Gbegiri are my favorites too*.

So Patience would have to be an integral nature of yours.

I will stop here mon baby.

I refuse to fall into the category of them.

Who insisted on the perfect 'this and that',
And ended up disappointed because she was human after all.

*Be yourself dearie*
And Keep communing with Jesus.

Only He will transform you into my perfect queen.

You are special.
Do not let anyone tell you otherwise.

You are unique.
God's fashioning hands perfected you before you were born.

You are priceless.
A jewel of inestimable worth and incomprehensible beauty.

And I remain yours
A man God is building to spread His words across the universe.
#BASHORUN

I looked up.

Observing two pilgrims on their journey ato heaven.

The one.
Saddled with a heavy load of care.
Care for the pleasures of the world.

His eyes stopped looking unto his redeemer.
Rather, he cared more about other people's views on his faith.

There he moved,
Huffing and Puffing.

His heart heaved.
His legs wobbled.

Then, I saw him fall.
Alas!
He could no longer carry his Christianity.

Lying under the weight of the load,
Evil hands extended from the shadows,
Dragging him back to the depths of sin.

Oh how his cry broke my heart
For the chief adversary had added seven more demons to the first that beset him.

I saw the second pilgrim

He too had his load of care.

Upon the hill of calvary.
At the foot of the cross,
He dropped his load.

A wise man he was,
For He could now run without any encumbrance.

He sang as he kept walking.
Inspired hymnals of victory came from his lips.

His eyes never stopped beholding the book of law.

By day,
The sun provided light for his meditation

By night,
His lamp lacked no oil, for he was a man of prayers.

Yet,
He had a flaw.
Pride was his Achilles heel.

Having walked a huge distance in the journey.
Having experienced much of his lords goodness.
Having overcame and cast out much demons.

With each deed,
Seeds of pride grew.

Like Moses,
The seed of anger bore fruit.

Like Saul,
Sacrifices became a better option to total obedience.

Like Eli,
His eyes dimmed to observe the little foxes that came to spoil his vine.

With all these,
The gifts of the spirit never left him.

Oh those gifts given without repentance.

Poor pilgrim never knew,
That the gifts presence could not guarantee his state of salvation.

Having weakened his defenses,
A Little demon came the pilgrims way.

Like Goliath,
The pilgrim Chuckled.

'He would be quick in casting the runt back to the bottomless pit'.

Like Samson,
The pilgrim arose,
His head bald,
His strength gone.

Like the seven sons of Sceva,
The little demon beat the pilgrim senseless.

Grabbing the pilgrims leg,
The demon began to drag.

Dragging him back to the dungeons to be chained up once more.

Like the prodigal son,
The pilgrims senses came back.

Like the mourning David before the prophet Nathan,
He cried out for mercy.

Like the king of Nineveh,
He draped a sack cloth of humility over his head.

A warm glow began to permeate the pilgrims body.

His saviour had forgiven him.
His amazing grace would not let the pilgrim go.

Like the Samaritan pilgrim,
He was carried and made whole again.

Thrusting the staff back into the pilgrims hands,

With a meek voice,
The Saviour said
*DO BETTER NOW MY CHILD*
#BASHORUN

Lady Jennifer was teaching her biology students today.

I watched from the window

*Diffusion is the movement of molecules from a region of higher concentration to a region of lower concentration till it is evenly spread*

While savoring her teaching,
The word came.

The more intake of God's word,
The more accostumed we become  to His principles.

The more we seek Him,
The more He reveals His purpose for our lives.

Sin's corruption of the mind started as a trickle until it engulfed the whole body.

Sanctification, too starts as a trickle.

The word of God forming a small puddle,
With much rain, the puddle grows,
Transitioning to a river and a ocean.

Ultimately becoming a tsunami,
A flood too strong to be held back.

Destroying every established foundation of sin in the mind.

A mental picture flashed

My younger self emptying the contents of Nutri C into a glass of water.

The more I poured,
The more the water changed its color and taste.

I understood.

The more we seek, the more we shall find.

The more we knock, the more the door shall be opened.

The more we believed, the more we would recieve.
#BASHORUN

There she was,
Sitting at the far end of the bar
'Dressed to kill' was the popular lingo that could describe her outfit.

To the physical eye
She was alone.
To the seasoned eye,
Fiendish minions surrounded her.

To the dulled senses
She needed a companion for the night.
To the spiritual senses
She was needy for a slave for all eternity.

To the fellow club dancers
She was just another 'Hot' girl.
To her fellow minions around
She was indeed the marine queens daughter.

He approached.
Swaggering step by step to her seat.
Like a ram led to the slaughter.

*Hello baby*
*Can i have a dance with you*

Like a crafty hunter whose trap caught game.
She smiled.

*Alright*
She rose.
Walking on to the dance floor

Hips swinging as she perfected her rehearsed cat walk.

*Oh lawd, oh lawwwd*
He echoed,

His pulses, in rythmic vibration with each of her steps.

Eyes, transfixed upon her seductive backside.

Mind, massively devising means of sleeping with her that night.

Heart, silently offering thanks to whatever sent this 'opeke' his way.

At the dance floor,
She was on fire.
Wringing, swinging,
Going down low as her body caressed his.

He was in ecstasy
'Cloud seven' as his friends would call it.

*Can I take you to my place?*
He whispered to her eyes.

*Take me anywhere you want baby*
She cooed back.

*Yekpaaa*
He had won the jackpot.
Other girls charged money for the night.
This one was free.

This sugar had entered into his pap.
And no way she was going to come out of it.

He patted his pocket.

Yes...The condom was still with him.
Lord knows he was not ready to contact gonorrhea or Aids.

He drove her home.
He played every record he knew.
She danced to his every song.

The midnight clock hit.
The time had come.

Like the true queen she was,
She ascended.

Taking the poor bloke's glory with her as she descended into the depths of the sea.

Now she would play the record.
And like a puppet,
He was already condemned to dance to every tune.

The morning rays hit his face.
He rose up

A victorious grin on his face as he surveyed her body features.

He tapped her gently

Now was the time to discharge her quick.

God forbid if the girl started catching feelings and forgot that it was just  a 'one-nighter'.

She got dressed within twenty  minutes.
She exited his door some ten minutes later.

Chuckling at the devastating chords she was going to play on his destiny.

Some ten hours later
She was in another far corner
A guy approaching
She grins
*You know her endgame*
#BASHORUN

The people gathered at his home.

Some to console him.
Others to celebrate his 'freedom from bondage'

They filled their plates with choicest delights.
The bar was crowded with drinks being passed around.

The offender came back

On her knees,
His wife came to his side.

She had been caught in the act days back.
Forceful eviction from her home had been the reward for her 'infidelity'

Now she was back.
A broken woman who wanted to fight for her marriage.

*Dakun Olowo ori mi*.
*Akanbi iko, omo ekun*

She spoke his oriki.
Those words that swelled his head once.

*Ranti igbati oti ife pa wa*
She reminded him of the good times.

Promised him of her unflinching faithfulness to him.

His 'so-called' friends cut her short.

Sycophants whose tongues were filled with deceit.

*Na so all women dey do o*. They said.

Fools, whose tongues were yielding instruments for sowing discord for the devil.

*She will teach your children the same*

They forgot that children of broken homes were always broken in ways unnoticeable with the human eye.

*You will get another woman*. They told him.

A fact,
Not to be contested because of his looks and wealth.

A lie,
Disguised to derail him from achieving God's plan for his life.

For she was God's perfect gift to him.

The destined second mate in his ship on the voyage across the raving stormy sea of life.

At the nick of time,
His true friend spoke out.

That friend who had the permission to tell him the bitter truth at all times.

*Listen to this woman ore*
Her knees,
Signifying her humility to you.

Her tears,
Evidence that God has made you worth crying over.

Do you remember my friend?

When we both spent time with those waitresses.

When we were engulfed in the arms of strange women.
And dulled our senses to keep out guilty emotions about our wives.

It hurts.. Yes it hurts
Alas.. we are humans.

Subject to the falling into temptuous  pleasures of this life.

Victims of errors we commit everyday.

Listen to her.
Receive her back.

Remember not her past mistakes.
For what benefit will it bring, but to only sow seeds of discord(fight) in your future.

Pay attention to her.

*Se o ngbo?*
*Inu go?*
*Can you hear me?*.

For I know you failed to pay attention.

You fell into the pit of chore.
Starting each day of your marriage with fixed routine.

*Be spontaneous ore*

Spice up your marriage.
For I perceive that you regard her as a log of wood incapable of exciting reactions.

*Take her out more ore*

Bring her to our boys night out.
And truly enjoy her favorite fashion channels when the remote finds its way into her hands.

*I know no one but Jesus ore*

His presence in your home will make you both one again.

It is five years now.

It is her birthday today.

Driving with His dearest and their kids at the back.

On the way to surprise her with the best gift.

He looks in the mirror,

Thanking God for making the painful decision of accepting her back years ago.

Thanking God for his true friend's harsh but true words.

He looks at her.
Leans over and plasters a huge kiss on her cheeks.

Thank God for giving him this queen.

For though she was not always perfect.
She was a clear reminder that God's blessings always resided in his home.

She was indeed, a priceless jewel to him.

Beloved, divorce is certainly not the best way to solve marital problems. Being humans means we could and we would fall. Nevertheless, when we do, let us endeavor to work things out with our spouses instead of condemning the union to an early death and raising up the children to believe divorce to be a great means of conflict resolution.
#BASHORUN

The accounts department looked at the numbers.

Fifty million dollars in profit.
People, worldwide, were insatiable.

At the far end of the prop,
The pornstar laid.

Foundations of makeup masked her tearful face.

A prisoner of pleasure, she was

Being raped repeatedly,
While feigning ecstasy and pleasure for the cameras.

Slapped, mutilated bodily,
All meant at sustaining the arousal of her fans.

She was at the doctors four hours back.

Diagnosed with Chlamydia and Syphilis.
Her fans did not know that.

Her male companions took enhancing drugs,

Suffered penile fracture during the act,

Risked the threat of stroke and heart failure,

But the fans never knew.

*Break time is over* The director shouted
Breaking up her train of thought.

Back to creating an illusion of the highest deceit.

She shouted in agony
Her fans interpreted it as pleasure moans.

*Save me*, she shouted
*Oh yeah* the fans thought they heard.

The video shoot finished,
Teary eyed, she drove home.

Knowing the havoc she had helped create.

For she had painted a false picture of pleasure.
She had invoked an unmatchable yearn within her fans.

She knew they would suffer.

For their fantasies could never be satisfied in the real world.

For their frustrations would drive them to addiction.

Addiction would drive them to loneliness.

Loneliness would bring self destructive thoughts.

She had helped destroy their chances for a blissful marriage.

She bowed her head

*God, if you are there, save them all*,

For they were in greater bondage than she was.
#BASHORUN

Majestic,
He sat on his throne.

A human skull scepter in his hands

A crown interwoven with fangs rested on his head

A strong man in his domain.

At his behest,
Destines had been locked up.
Glories had been covered with veils.
He was drunk with blood of saints.

He had some Christians in chains.

Family lineages tied to a tree.
Unbelievers confined in the pits of law.

For their eyes were cloaked by belief in ethics.

The strong man stirred

A voice of discontent sounded in his prison.

The Christian eyes were opened.

His knees were bent in prayers

His lips uttered a cry for help to the King of Kings.

His heart was set upon recovering his lost glory.

The strong man was in panic mode.

He knew the battle was at his doorstep.

For such prayers elicited a charge from the host of Heaven into his kingdom.

GBIM!!!
GBIM!!!

Battering sounds from the catapults of the hosts of heaven.

The intensity increased with the Christian's increased prayers.

In Crisis mode now.

The strong man shouted to his minions.

Go and distract him now
Make him think he is weak

Send him a false vision
Do anything!!

The minions tried.

Alas!

Their efforts were fruitless
Like pouring trying to fetch rain water using a basket.

The Christian was truly tired.

Tired of being stagnated in his pursuits.

Tired of the recurring cycle of death and failure.

At last.

The doors of the strong man's  lair are smashed open.

The hosts of heaven charged at him.

Picking up his sword,
He hoped to keep the Christian down.

Alas!

His blade failed him.

A sword drove into his chest.
Screams of pain erupted.
From his lips came the throes of death.

He fell within the second.

For he had tried to fight against the ALMIGHTY.

The strong man was dead
The house was filled with treasures.

The Christian was free.
He got back all the enemy had stolen from him
#BASHORUN