BashorunsBlog

How are you doing my great friends?

I have witnessed the times you were burning hot for God's work.

When your passion and gifts were in total synchronization with God's plan of de-populating the kingdom of darkness.

Days when you handled the microphone and demons fell.
Days when you handled the pen and wrecked havoc on Hell's hordes.

I am witnessing your light sleep now.

For you claim the day to day hustle within the huge cities leave you too drained to burn for God.
For you claim the absence of enough time in making yourselves available for God.

For you keep claiming that you are experiencing the *writers block* in composition of articles and music for God.
For you keep up the claim that the church department has refused to give you a spot to display your talent for God forgetting that you carry the church in you.

Well.
I have news for you sirs and madames.

While you slept,
The world helped define pre-marital sex as lovemaking and not fornication.

While you dozed,
The world read new meanings to the bible and concluded that Holiness does not mean perfection.

While you revved up the tone of your snore,
The devil taught teenage boys that money acquisition and sleeping with hot women were the definition of true success.

And no one was on ground to remind our little sisters of their uniqueness and beauty in face of an onslaught of love advances disguised to make them fall.

While your saliva found an escape route at the corners of your mouth,
Weed became the in thing and nobody was on hand to lecture youths on the adverse effects of smoking shishia.

While you were enjoying your rest from duty,
The clubhouse became the youth official church and the church was regarded as a place habited by *stale old people*

While your pen rested on its stand,
It became okay amongst new couples to consider divorce as a first means of overcoming marital problems and visits to the clergys consulting office dwindled in numbers.

WAKE UP NOW.
The message I pen to you today.
The prod I wish to rouse your sides with.

Pick up that mantle you abandoned and the microphone you dropped.
Wash up your eyes with the scriptural words of truth and ask for mercy from your commanding General.

Yes. Yes.

Raise up your flags once more and wave them highest in the midst of the storms.

The homeless homes,
Visit with gifts of love and message of love.

Uncharted territories,
Break in with the sound and message of goodnews coming from thy lips.

The shackles of religious routine,
Break free from and start extending the word to every location.

For His commission never restricted the goodnews to the church pews.

Rather to the ends of the earth, Preach.
To all audiences, Preach.
On all media platforms, Preach.
With audible sounds, Speak.

There you are,
A Sleeping giant awakened from slumber.

There the devil stands,
A Shrieking tone coming from his lips.

There your Creator and Saviour stands.
A fulfilling smile spreading across His lips.

Here #bashorun stands,
Receiving inspiration from every word you write, every lyric you sing, every decorations you put up and every prayers you render.
#BASHORUN

Sosogho Abasi mi.
All thanks ascribed to you my God.

Our Mfoniso,
The mighty and victorious one in battles and the keeper of our families.

Osa-Nudazi,
The impregnable one who is our shield and fortress.

Ima obong,
We thank you for you boundless love.

Eno obong,
Your countless gifts you gave to us and mercies that remain sure.

Inemesit,
My sweetheart who left His throne on high to redeem me.
And defeated death and the grave to grant me victory.

Ekpe Judah,
The Lion of the tribe of Judah.

Obot Usen,
The creator of the day and giver of strength to our bones in our youth.

Obot Okon,
The creator of the night and heaven to serve as rest when our journey in life ends.

Aniebiet Abasi?
Who is like you in all the earth?

We searched and found none.
For only you can open and shut a door without needing permission or following protocols.

Nsidibe Abasi?
What can be hidden from you o lord?

We researched and found none.
Therein we are assured that our sorrows will end.
And we find our peace, knowing you are omnipresent.

Aniema Abasi?
Who loves or cares like God?

We tried all sources and discovered joy like no other in His presence.
For He called us the apple of His eyes.
Literally, we are sooo close to His eyes.

Mmokutima,
I have seen and met love and His name is Jesus.
He lives in me.
Hallelujah as I abide in him also.
#GodPraiseSundaySeries
#BASHORUN.

The day was a Wednesday.

Ring ring
The morning bell rang at Yellow House city hall.

In a groggy formation,
All juniors marched to the front yard.
Senior Tade was the taskmaster that day.

Having identified the culprits without brooms,
He proceeded to administer our daily morning tea with the belts in his hands.

Sixtus dusted his cane ,
For we knew he always put napkin to pad his buttock.
Bobby feigned his pain,
Poor Kosi cried out in howling pain.
For a dosage of harmattan mixed with cane was never a good combination.

*From you to that boy there, sweep inside*
*Second line, sweep decking and prefect room*
*Third line, Frontage and toilet*

Duties dispatched,
We all ran to the pump.

Woe betide who was last to fetch water,
For like the foolish virgins,
They would be locked out of the dinning hall,
And their morning food consumed by early timers like Lasisi.

Having bathed and dressed in impeccable green and white,
We matched to the dining hall.

Bread and tea was the morning menu.

Bread, they called it.
More like a fist sized ball of eba which could not satisfy a six year old child.

Tea, they called it.
More like a tasteless coloured water that had the aroma of thick smoke.

With half empty stomachs,
The good students trudged to the assembly.
And the bad gang found their way into the classes and the mosque.

Who could blame them?

Apparently, Mrs Akinokun's hawk eye could easily detect a student with slippers on or without socks from a thousand kilometers away.
And her band of beautiful female prefects had no mercy in collecting the slippers.

Apparently, Mr Idowu's roaming eyes always caught talking and erring students with untucked shirts.
And his technique at wielding the cane was better than his knowledge of Intro Tech his subject.

Apparently some students smuggled out bread from the dinning hall to keep in their class lockers.
A fact, poor and hungry Kosi discovered and a point of duty to avoid assemblies, all to help them keep their bread in my belly.

Within forty minutes,
The assembly was dismissed.
Time for the hated Mathematics first period.

*Good morning class*
Our teacher echoed donning  red flowery gown today.
Swaggering in with New General Mathematics on her right hand,
And a long freshly cut cane, she borrowed from Mr Adetola, in her left hand.

Who could blame her?

With a student like me who hated the subject,
You needed the cane to drive home the subject matter.

With a student like Ajani whose second name was trouble,
You needed the cane to keep the class in check.

With a student like Fatoki Shola who kept on stealing glances at Yejide through the whole period,
And Okewale Akin who kept writing unsuccessful love letters to Bukola,
You need a cane to capture their attention.

With a student like Sebiotimo who kept on attacking the girls with rubber band and paper,
You would need the cane very much.

Like a Fervent prayer warrior,
I prayed for the period to end quick.

God answered my prayers,
For Aunty got a call from Mrs Abgoola telling her of the arrival of the fish and aso oke clothe seller.

Like the outburst following the newsbreak of Abachas death,
The whole class shouted for joy at her exit.

All except Oluwaseye,
For she was his guardian whom he dearly loved.

The other periods went terribly.
The English teacher came.
And the whole class was caned for failing the take home comprehension assignment.

The labor prefect came around too.
His treasured book of life in his right hand,
And (you know what) swinging in his left.

Needless to say,
Our backs were the recipients of the rewards of abstaining from labour duties.

Mr Esan came to the class later.
A gentle dove who rocked dark glasses.

Meek when on good terms,
Terrible when provoked.
The latter side we witnessed.
For our noise disturbed the whole class block including a class he was teaching
To be continued.
#BASHORUN

Weary from life,
I trudged up to Jacobs well.

Pitcher in my hands,
Earnest hope in heart.
I hoped to draw enough water today.

Enough human strength to fight all my battles.
Enough inspiration from the marriage seminar to keep my home together.
Enough human compliments to affirm my being special.

Enough money to reignite the waning attention the world was giving me.
Enough fame to keep me in the spotlight thus keeping suicidal thoughts away.
Enough confidence from books in order to stand against criticism directed towards me.

On reaching the well,
I let down the pitcher.

Alas!
The pitcher was empty when brought up.

The search for money had brought more misery than expected.
My friends and Beloved had no answers for me today.

Dr Phil, Oprah and Richard Templar prescriptions for living right had failed.
The sight of my husband in the morning which brought strength and love now repulses me.

The drugs and weed had failed to take me into heaven once more.
The cloud nine I anticipated to reach before the sex, was unreachable even with 2 hours spent.
The army escorts I had in employ were powerless against my spiritual foes.
Worse still, my herbalist had reached a wall he could not scale.

So there i was in dispair.
Putting my pitcher back into its pouch,
Getting ready to go and kill myself.
For nothing gave me the hope to continue.

Then I saw a man,
Coming from Jerusalem towards the well.
Perhaps He wanted to draw from the well like me.

*Sir, the well is empty today*
I said in a disheartening tone.
Hoping to save Him from undertaking a fruitless exercise.

Into my eyes He looked.

*Hello friend*
He said.
And with a smile,
Acknowledged my existence.

Here was a Jew acknowledging me.
A man who God loved, speaking to a man who God hated for his sins.
A race who God had specifically commanded never to have dealings with my race, yet He stands here speaking to me.

I had seen some of them before.

God's people,
They called themselves.

Never pausing for once to say hello to me.
Never pausing to offer help to me or at least pray for me.
A tag of sinner and unworthy, they willingly placed on me.

Here was one who was different.

We got talking.
He told me His name is Jesus.

Told me that the waters from Jacobs well, though sweet, had disappointed much people.
Told me that its dryness had Instigated a deep depression within its visitors that led to their untimely deaths.

*Are you serious??*
*So I am not the only one who has felt this pain before?*
These two questions I asked.
Hoping to elicit common feelings of Dispair.
And get on my way home.

*Yes my friend*
Then He offered me a new well to draw from.

A well within which true peace can be found.
Wherein joy would be found.
A well overflowing with living waters He called it.

Told me that I would need no help from friends and family when I tasted of its waters.
Told me I would need no cravings for the intoxicating substances when I tasted its sweetness.
Told me victory over all things, physical and spiritual was assured if I drew from the well.

*Oga anyi, Please give me this water*
This plea I echoed loud.
For I was at my wits and knowledge end.
And had absolutely nothing to lose.

Of the well of life Jesus gave me.
In gushes, joy flooded my soul.
In stillness, my raging seas of trouble was calmed.

A new man I became.
A greater woman I became.

The need to exceed peoples expectations from me, ceased.
In its place grows the desire to know God better and acknowledge His will only.

The need to worry about the future stopped as I know Him better.
In its place grows a deep seated trust and faith in Him.

The uncertainty about life after death stopped.
In its place grows a yearning for a Home on High with my God.
#BASHORUN

(A self help guide for Peer educators)

Know that SEX is an enjoyable act,
BUT fulfilling and guilt free only within the ambit of marriage.

Know that acquiring wealth is great,
BUT hardwork helps maintain and value the wealth acquired.

Know that alcohol intake may be sociable and helpful for forgetting problems,
BUT a potential gateway to drunkenness, shameful acts and liver/speen damage.

Know that breaking the law is very cool and sociable,
BUT A GOOD NAME IS BETTER THAT ALL.

Know that being a virgin is very uncool,
BUT the greatest of all men are they, who are confident and comfortable with being 'Uncool'

Know that socializing with your kind (Ethnic, Religion and Class) is good,
BUT reaching and loving all others, builds you into a fountain of wealth and refuge.

Know that eating your earnings is good,
BUT SAVE NOW, EAT LATER is much better than EAT NOW, SAVE LATER.

Know that cover up of their misdeeds prevents a 'koboko' (Ass whooping) in the present,
BUT opening up prevents a lifetime ahead filled with tears and unchecked recurring bad habits.

Know that living their free of discipline is very cool and sociable,
BUT will bring painful tears of regrets in yhr future.

Know that following the world trends is hip and cool,
BUT standing apart from the crowd and standing for Christ is the best way to live.

Above all
Know that God cannot be seen or touched,
BUT can be approached by all even when they are guilty of sin. 
#BASHORUN

Ekosodin.. Ekosodin
The Nigerian Iraqi zone

How great men art fallen in thy streets.
How precious destinies have ended in thy stalls
The dirge people raise up at the funeral of your victims are heart wrenching.

There they are,
Dark hooded fellows waiting,
Different colours and banners flying,
Assorted weapons hidden,
All waiting at every corner to make trouble.

*oboy show*
*baby show*
Subtle whistle calls to unsuspecting victims.

Like a rattlesnake, they strike.
Carting away all valuables
Leaving behind a stunned victim with a face peppered with hot slaps.

Ekosodin.
The den of Strong men.
Too old to remember their admission dates.
Too fearful of facing life outside the small village.

At every hostel they wait.
Long term tenants overdue for eviction.
The landlords agent comes knocking.
A distinguished lawyer in his own right.

*The landlord said you people should pa.*
The words froze in his lips.
For sight of the gun was enough to shut him up.

*Landlord say make una take good care of the hostel*
Quickly changing the content of the message meant to be delivered.
Who could blame him?
For a wife and three kids awaited his return home.

To the primary school field I went.
Hoping to enjoy a bit of banter among social gathering.
The shirtless team was winning and the game tempo building.

Midway through the game,
A harsh tackle ensued against a shirtless player.

The referee feigned ignorance.
The spectators maintained their silence.
The shirtless team maintained remarkable muteness.

They all knew who the referee was.
I did not.

There I was.
Yelling with a maddening roar at the injustice ignored.

A side step, two side steps,
Friends around had began to distance themselves from my location.

The referee blew a halt to the match.
In short strides undertaken with dwarvish legs,
He raced down to my location.

*Who you be*
He asked.
Blurting our the most idiotic question I thought anyone should ask.
For I was a Jew in the country of Rome
And a spectator in the midst of initiates.

*Well, I am kosilala for your information*
I replied while lacing the words with an exuberant tone.
For I thought he was just another student.

Within a fraction of a second,
An eclipse occurred before my eyes.
For the afternoon sun became obscured by a dark cloud.
Bright stars appeared in my vision that moment.
And the chirping sounds of birds around became more audible.

Two more slaps followed in quick succession.
Two more tsunamis that eroded my calm and beautiful face.
Two more hands in my pocket relieved me of my new phone.

A baptism of fire,
I called it in narration to friends afterwards.

Your first lecture in Ekoso 111,
My roommate called it.
And the second lecture came that Saturday.

At the viewing center I sat,
A yearning expectation swelling in my heart.
With a win from Manchester United over Arsenal,
My betslip winnings of #4000 would be guaranteed.

So the match began.
Rooney bumped in the first goal.
Danny Welbeck supplied the second.
Ashley Young added a third with a sublime curling R2 goal.
And the floodgates slammed shut at Seven-nil.

Ecstatic described my state.
Wilding jumping and hugging unknown strangers.
For winning in football always elicits a joy universally shared.

While exiting the door,
The minions gripped my hands.
And with unspoken threat escorted me to the lair of oga at the top.

Oga was very angry with me.
For he was a fan of the loosing Arsenal side.
And my jubilation had inflamed the sadness in him.

In the middle of the slapping and kicking session,
My orientation changed.

Whilst spending my last #2000 buying beer for everyone around,
My support for Manchester United rescinded.
And my dire love for the gunners was born.

With deep seated thanks I hail thee.
For my fears you heightened
And my belief in God you strengthened.

To Him I ran to secure me.
For I could do nothing to secure myself from the chairmen.

In God's presence I found true peace.
And in His word I found true wisdom to moderate my associations within  that dreaded place called Ekosodin.
#BASHORUN

Sitting out here.
Eyes fixed on the stars.

Gazing at the beauty they radiate.
Reflecting on the light they create.
In deep thankfulness for the darkness they alleviate.
Praising the God whose beauty the stars enunciate.

Like Stars on earth believers are called to be.

Seeds of love we are called to procreate.
God's Dominion over all things we are expected to recreate
Acts of evil we are meant to remediate.

Selfish thinking we must be ready to repudiate.
The great Commission we are must always permeate.

The hordes of Hell, our actions must infuriate 
The path of Destruction, we must make sinners to deviate.
Like our father in heaven,
the office of kings we must officiate.

And at all circumstances and over all creations,
WE MUST DOMINATE.
#BASHORUN

*Bastard*
She shouted
Hurling a chinaware at her son.

A fool who pulls down her home with her hands.

Forgetting that children are a heritage and rewards from Him according to Psalms 127:3.

Forgetting that death and life are the power of the tongue according to Proverbs 18:21.

*Useless man*
The wife shouted at her husband.

Scratching and biting her way out of choke hold of her husband.

A woman with loose lips.

Forgetting that a soft answer would always turn away wrath according to Proverbs 15:1.

Forgetting that a loose mouth would always bring destruction to life according to Proverbs 13:3

*It is in your blood*
She said with a vicious tone.

Reminding him of the past misdeeds he thought had been forgiven.

Forgetting that Forgiveness without Forgetting brings separation amongst the best friends according to Proverbs 17:9.

Forgetting that love keeps no records of wrongdoing as God keeps no record of our wrongdoings after forgiveness according to 1 Corinthians 13:5.

*You this devilish woman*
He said.
Punctuating each word with blows to her head.

Forgetting that according to Genesis 2:23, he is hurting his own body.

Forgetting that Ephesians 5:21 told him to also submit to the wife as she submits to him.

Forgetting that his prayers will definitely be hindered because of this act according to 1 Peter 3:7.

For one plus one never equates two in marriage.

A union of two bodies it should be,
Unity needed in bringing forth children to fulfil God's command of fruitfulness.

A merger of destinies it should read.
Merger needed to fulfill God's command of dominance over everything.

A fusion of both aspirations it should speak.
Fusion needed to withstand the onslaught of discouragement and enemies in the race to perfection.

An example of true love it should paint.

A love that would always be ready to lay down individual interests in other to make each partner better.

A love like Jesus's for the church.

For He, being in the form of God,
Was bruised for our iniquities,
Chastised for our rebellion,
And endured the worst form of death invented by humanity.

All to save us from damnation.
All to restore our authority over everything created in the heavens and earth.

Beloved let us always be mindful of everything we do even in the state of anger.
For we are called to be salt to the earth, without which darkness would prevail.
#BASHORUN

*Drop it low girl*
*Nwa baby shake ukwu*
*Olomoge twerk eeee*

The above lyrics kept banging through his earpiece into his spirit.

Going through a mime routine as he walked on the street,

His hands unconsciously depicted the shape of a woman's backside.
His mind fantasized on the perfect shape and size which would satisfy his lustful desires.

Sunday morning came,
He was in front of the altar once more.

A damaged sinner seeking forgiveness once more.
A backsliding Christian wanting a regeneration of heart and mind.

He danced well in church that day.

He figured that through praise routine,
He would be delivered like Apostle Paul and Silas from the prison according to Acts 16.

He put five hundred naira into the offering box that day.

He figured that he could provoke God into forgiving him,
For the offering of Abel had sent a sweet smelling savour to God in heaven according to Genesis 4:4.

Moreover, the pastor had proclaimed a word of victory upon those who emptied their pockets into the offering box.

He lifted up holy hands that day.
Making sure his hands were physically the highest extending towards the church ceilings.

He figured this would grant him victory.
For God made Israel defeat Amalek in battle this way through Moses according to Exodus 17.

Alas!!
At the church gates,
The devil waited.
Hands in pocket.
A wicked deceitful grin adorning his face.

Waiting patiently until the believer came out of the church.
Waiting patiently until the euphoria of dancing left the believer.
Waiting patiently until the resounding pastors message died down in the believers head.
Waiting until the believer picked up his phone to peruse his playlist.

Barely five hours later,
The believer had fallen again.

A song eulogising the rythmic movement of the female buttocks did the trick.
For the whole images and lustful fantasies came flooding back into his mind.

Placing the cuffs of masturbation on his wrists once more,
Leading him back to the prison of depression and stagnation again.

The believer never knew.

That, what he fed his spirit would determine his spiritual output.
Never knew that seeking to live a victorious holy life meant the constant intake of God's word.
Never knew that oneone seeking a victorious life in Christ Jesus could not afford to flirt with the world.

For he became a pilgrim upon confession of sins and belief in Jesus.
A citizen of the city of God as Saint Augustine describes.
A Holy Nation as Saint Peter puts it.
A New Creation called forth from darkness into God's light.
His body is now God's temple in which there must be no filth.

Beloved, Garbage taken in would always bring a garbage life lived.
That is why we are enjoined to always steer clear of the path of sinners so as to avoid a tainting of our vessels.
When we take in God's word, we become more like Him, when we turn back to admire the world, stagnation always comes.
#BASHORUN

Lived a man upon this earth once.

*God's general*,
A tag christians call him to this day.

Aggressively insane was his passion for lost souls.
Acutely poignant were his messages on sin.
Deep seated were his groanings for revival.

Forty thousand times,
He preached.

Upon his horseback,
Moving from place to place.

The hymn *amazing grace* on his lips.
Always in remembrance of God's unmerited grace towards his life.

For out of twenty seven brothers and sisters given birth to by his mom,
God singled him out for the evangelical revival.

The hymn *Onward Christian soldiers* his daily anthem.
Always in remembrance of Christ great commission.

For the harvest is ripened for the picking.
And he was accorded the greatest honour of being fellow Harvester with God.

Standing, Siting?
His preaching podium and posture mattered not.

Negroid, Caucasian,
All races he catered for.

Rich, Poor,
All audiences his message om Christ love for mankind reached.

Lepros, Healthy
All audiences He spread out his hands to embrace.

Forty thousand times,
He told of God's love and preached Jesus as the way to eternal life.

Traveling on Harzadous paths to reach the farthest locations.
Battling to crossover treacherous waters all to tell of God's love.

How great a passion for the cross.
How maddening a zeal to save people from damnation.

How loving a heart to engage his legs to move even when tired.
How obedient a man to heeding the call of duty.

Forty thousand times,
He preached.

Forty thousand times, He made God smile.
Forty thousand times, He made heaven rejoice.

Forty thousand times, He caused a great mourning in Hell.
Forty thousand times, He loosened the chains brought upon his listeners by sin and devils.

Forty thousand times,
God fashioned a new crown for him.

Beloved, now you know of John Weasley, a God's general. It is a clarion call to us to spread the Love of Jesus wherever we are, however we can and to all peoples through our word.
Speak His word and make God proud of you
#BASHORUN

*Here am I lord, I did it again*

The forbidden fruit, i tasted once more.
The allure of world, i casted my gaze upon.
The paths of destruction, I diverted to.

The first look started the rumble within my mind.
For the passing lady had the force of attraction to arouse the dead man in me.

The second look cemented the tumble into sin.
For I failed to remember and apply God's words at that moment.

*He that is in me is greater than he in the world*
The above was my favorite scripture.

So I followed my friends to the bar.

A whiff of the alcoholic drink did the enticement.

Within minutes, four bottles had materialised in front of me.

For I thought I could overcome the entanglement with sin even if I went to the bar.

I never knew,
That Psalms 1:1 also instructed me never to walk in the path of sinners.

For the company I keep would always determines my progress in defeating temptations.

For my refusal to severe ties with old friends who were not in the faith, left me stagnant in my faith.

For no man can serve two masters at the same time without experiencing destruction like Lots wife.

So I sit here,
My joy replaced with a deep seated sadness.

Like Esau,
The temporary hunger that gnawed my innards has subsided.
And the sweet taste of the devils porridge has washed away.

Here I am at this point.

A critical life decision i have to make.
My lost joy and glory to forsake or retake

My former ways to awake or the total severance of its ties I am to undertake.
The handshake with sinful pleasures to continue or a plea to Jesus for the marriage feast to partake.

The pleasurable land of the dead to recede to heavens paths to proceed.

My bible, I picked
Like lead, it weighed.
My heart, guilt choked.
Nevertheless, I opened.

For I could not go back now.
A fallen champion will not be my tag.
A faltering Christian I will not be called.
A light to my generation I would not quench now.

Not when I still have the breadth of life in me.

Not when all creations are earnestly waiting to see my manifestation as a son of God.

Not until I am forgiven and freed totally from the bondage brought on by my habits.

*Hallelujah*, i cried,
Lord Jesus's voice, I heard.
The garment of shame, He shred.
The account of John I read.

Mary, a prostitute, Jesus saved.
Her accusers, He chased.
A stop to flirting with sin, He craved.
Everlasting life and joy, He promised

Direct into my eyes, He gazed.
The following words He spoke.

*Gird your lions my son. I have overcome the world*.

LOOK UNTO ME, THE AUTHOR AND FINISHER OF YOUR FAITH, BECAUSE OF JOY SET BEFORE ME, I ENDURED THE CROSS, DESPISED THE SHAME AND SITS AT THE RIGHT HAND OF GOD. (Hebrews 12;2)
#BASHORUN

How are you doing dearies?

Beautiful daughters of zion in whom God delights in.
Beautiful muses to whom Bashorun pen down these words to.

I feel your pains my dear ones.
I see the struggles you go through.

The desire to be accepted among the *cool cliques* in your schools.

The longing for someone to call you beautiful and affirm you as a special girl to him.

The search,
To confirm what true love tastes like,

The feelings love leaves in your heart and head,

The warmness one feels when you cuddle your beloved,

And the fulfilling smile of self-worth when he calls you *Asa'm*

*Iwalewa*
Your character is your beauty.

This i choose to tell you today.

The love words I choose to coo into your ears today.
The cupid arrowed message I wish to strike your tender hearts.

For your beauty exceeds the boundaries of your body features.
And your uniqueness transcends the realm of the five senses since you are a daughter of Yahweh.

*Build your intellect my little sisters*.

For beauty without brains will usher in a tears-laden future.

Fraught with ceaseless and needless falling in love drama episodes with joyless playboy characters.

Ending with painless surgeries undertaken by countless lab-coat wearing *doctors* in nameless hospitals,

All together painting a sad shameful masterpiece to be exhibitioned in the future.

Now,
Beauty WITH brains?

That will help you paint  inspiring experiences which would make your God proud.

For you will become unstoppable and not confined to someone's kitchen, living room and the *other room*.

*A woman like thirty men*,
People would hail you.

*A virtuous woman*
Your husband and kids will call you.

A worthy queen like Esther,
You will become.

Brilliant Economists like Okonjo Iwela,
You will surpass.

World leaders like Angela Merkel,
You will eclipse.

And like Mother Teresa of Calcutta.
You will Live a purposeful life that will cause the whole world to continually remember and celebrate .
#BASHORUN

They say our words paint an ideal world.

Their words,
Lashes, meaning to wake us to the real world.

Their motives,
Shield our words from wrecking their built up beliefs and world.

They say,
*You have never been hurt by anyone*

Told us to shut our mouths and don't say the word *forgiveness*      

They forget,
That Forgiveness is for their personal good.

They say,
*You have not had job interview doors shut in your face*

Told us to stop echoing our belief of "no source of income, no wife"

They remain,
Blind to the knowledge that NO means Next opportunity.

They say,
*You don't know how important it is to keep your jobs in this unstable economy*

Told us to stop echoing the need to engage in God's house and vineyard.

They forget,
That their sustenance is that same God and He is the owner of the earth and all within it.

They say,
*You am too crazy in your belief in Holiness*

Told us to soften up our stance since we can never be God.

They forget,
That the roaring lion seeing only ONE slip,
Enters and sows tars to spoil our tender vines.

They say
*You am just another word penning Romeo emphatic on "one man, one jewel*

Told us that we have not yet seen the latest instagram model with eyes and hips.

So alluring and seductive, that makes one question the existence of love at first sight

And affirming existence of love at numerous sight.

They forget,
That true beauty is found in the heart because facial beauty withers with time
     
They shout it loud,
*WAKE UP*
*For the thoughts you paint are not real*

We look back at them and scream
     
*God thought of man before creating him and men built all these visible wonders in his mind first*

So yeah, we are idealists with the hope of changing the world one word at a time and with the offer of the cross at all times
We are #BASHORUN

Bitter describes my heart condition.

Dying lies my pride.
For their words,
Like a pin piercing a hot air balloon,
Had deflated it.

The were my friends.
They had the license to kill.
And thank God they did just that.

*You messed up real bad*
Olumide said.

*You are wrong on all sides*
Cynthia added.

*You need the touch of Christ*
Funke chipped in.

*Get your act together*
Kelechi said.

Like the bite of rapid dog,
Their words stung.

Yet, Truth,
Like the famed maxim said,
Is a bitter pill to digest.

I recoiled at their words.
Hated their boldness in speaking.

But my spirit thanked God for their presence and love.

For Dumbledore was right about Neville.

It takes great courage to stand up to a foe.
And greater courage to stand up to a friend.

Their courage was an evidence of their true love.

I am a better man now.
Thanks to these friends.

I can be brought down to earth now.
Thanks to their courage.

I can move on from failure now.
Thanks to their encouragement.

Pride could be extinguished in me now.
Thanks to their license to kill.

I  can attain perfection now.
Thanks to their prayers.

My smile broadens,
My heart gladdens,
As I write of these friends now.

They are far from perfect.
But they are not sycophants.

Only a fool surrounds himself with praise singers.

And walks away when told the truth to his face.

Joy to the wise
Joy to me.
I am not that fool.

Beloved, we need to have friends who have the license to stand up to us.
Not necessarily acquiring more friends because quantity never equates quality.
#BASHORUN

You are good man Karl
Alas..
Goodness of character cannot keep a man away from wrecking harm upon humanity.

I loved your work.
*Dialectical Materialism* you called it.
An ad infinitum documentation of Thesis and anthesis class struggle.
The rich pitied against the poor.

You wanted equality of men.
Equity in resource sharing.

Love amongst all men
But you jettisoned THE GOD OF LOVE.

I guess you forgot Karl.

That love is culturally relative
For some cultures eat their friends as a display of affection.

You never knew. Karl
That a child raped by his father.
Would psychologically grow up, believing Rape to be a means of love expression.

Your idea to disavow God brought to power many superhumans.
Superhumans whose definition of universal love were very 'vague'

Let me tell you of Josef Stalin.
He so much believed in your ideals.

Organizing the whole nation into communes.
Oh such lofty ideas he espoused in his 5 point socio-economic agenda
Yet he sent millons of his people to Siberia to show his 'love' for them

Do you know how Siberia looks and feels like.Karl?
I guess you don't.
For you would not have lasted a week in those cold and deathly gulaks.

Millions were purged.
All because of the absence of belief in a Transcendent law to check Stalin.

Feeling a knot in your stomach yet?

There is more my friend.

In China, Mao Zedong came.
The chubby leader who the people adored.

He carried your red book. Karl.
It never left his breast pocket even when he purged his party.

Great Leap.
He called his socio economic programs

More like Great Murder
For his people starved to death in their millions.

Have you heard of Pol Pot?
Don't even get me started on that Cambodian beast.

You fought against including God to your writings Karl.
You tried to define Love without presenting the originator of Love itself.

Needless to say, your philosophy will keep running into Brick wall.
But take heart,
God is moving Mightily now

In China, the world's fastest growing church.
Russia would be next.

And when this world ends,
We would be transported into a classless heaven.

Where the true Love Himself will permeate all hearts and reign as a just King.

A king,
Just in character.

His glory,
Lighting up the new earth thus banishing darkness.

His reign,
Ushering in true love rooted in equality and lasting worship in His presence.

That Karl, would be the true utopia.
#BASHORUN

Much treasures he laid up.
Daily immersed in the hustle of acquisition.

Acquiring resources to feed the kids and family

Acquiring more money to save for future.

Acquiring houses in growing numbers to secure protection for the family.

Acquiring cars to firmly secure acceptance within social circles.

With a fierce determination, she strove.

Daily striving to breach the boundaries of gender inequality.

Daily putting all efforts towards climbing up the ladder of success

She was a woman of focus.

Fully focused on raising sound and brilliant kids.
Fully focused on building the perfect family.

Perfect in adherence to dietary prescriptions and routines.

Perfect in knowledge of societal etiquettes and obligations to all classes.

Perfect in knowledge and application of the laws of wealth creation and sustainance.

Their intents were indeed noble.
Their strive were indeed legal.

However,
They both forgot God in their dealings.

Forgot to give Him all the thanks for the strength to strive.
Forgot to give God the glory for all He gave to them.

For numerous were the unseen forces that assailed them.
Yet God fought them off.

Devious were the inner thoughts of men towards them.
But God kept them safe in the face of all.

Devastating were the climatic/physical forces that could have killed them both.
But God's mercies continually kept them safe.

Mortifying were the plaques that could have visited their homes.
But God's mercies kept the plaques at bay.

Beloved, let us endeavor to give God all the glory for everything we have so that we are not referred to as Fools by God.
#BASHORUN

Still he laid,
Smiling, knowing he would bring mankind a whole lot of joy.

His creator destined him to an applause filled life .

Created to find HIVs cure in the multitudes of failed human attempts.

Curled up, she laid.

Her tiny hands clasped together.

Lips making faint noises that flooded the mothers body with strength.

A little prayer warrior in the making.

Destined to end the vicious cycle of Stagnation in her family through prayers.

Raising his little feet, he kicked.

A pang of pain the mother felt.

*A troublesome one he will be*,
The mother thought within.

He smiled,

Knowing that with his footballing talent, he would put his mothers name in mouths across the world.

For they would call her womb blessed.

Clutched,
His little fist was.

Adorable facial features registering a firm look.

The time had come

God had answered the masses call for a saviour
And he was God's chosen Herald of hope to His people.

In their womb, they all laid

Then,
The instruments came.

The pills and the surgical tools of removal.

All meant to extinguish their weeks old existence.

The little ones fought back

With their little fingers,
Trying to push the instruments back from hurting them

Like a weaponless soldier tries to parry the thrust of a sword aimed at his heart.

*Mama, mama help me live*
Their voice shouted

*I have got something for the world*, they cried.

Alas!!

The world failed to care.
For they were concerned with more important things like deciding the most beautiful girl in the world.

As if God's fashioning hands stopped being perfect immediately after the girl was created.

The mother failed to listen.

Mama was more preoccupied with what people would say,

Still hurt by papa's denial of my existence,

She said she had the right to her body.
I guess she forgot I had the right to my own existence too.

The drugs won.
The surgeons tools conquered once again.

In their dying breadth,

The little ones asked
*Who are you to play God over my life?*

Beloved, abortion is not only an aberration against God but a crime against humanity for a life is always lost. If you are not ready to have kids, then stop trying to, for like murdered victims, the little ones cry out to their creator and woe betide thee when the Almighty unleashes His wrath upon the for the murder committed.
#BASHORUN

The day was going totally wrong.
The actor was acting off-script.

HIS 220 test was a disaster.

Lord knew I had written on the Bantus instead of the Tiv people.

*Scholarrr, I know say you don finish work for dia*
GoldenVic said.

*Kosilala, your head just dey bring out fire there*
Peace and Maro chipped in.

*Kosi kosi the scholar of our time*
Hilary and Clarke finished off.

I smiled.
A pained and feigned smile that appeared real.

They never knew.

Never knew that my combination of kolanut and Nescafe robbed me of sleep the previous night.

Sleep, in turn, robbed me of vitality and remembrance in the test hall.

Walking down to my hall of residence.

I became caught in the crossfire of Hall 2 girls and Hall 3 boys

*Otondo*
*Bloody Jambite*
*Your head like my pot of soup*
*O boy see as your shoe don expire. Forgive am make you troway am na*

They kept at it till I walked past.

Entering Hall 3,
Walking along the corridor
A shower of Palm oil soup decended on me.

Obviously a student on the top floor was blind to the presence of drains.

*Jesuu.. eshe wo ni mo se (What sin have I committed)?*

A rhetoric question that came to my lips immediately.

Entering my room,
I muttered half greetings to all around.

Kai!!
Moses was sleeping on my big bed at the moment.
And I was to rest my head on another persons bed.

Opening the wardrobe,
I brought out my pot of rice.

For hunger pangs were gnawing in my stomach .

Bringing out my spoon,
I proceeded to open the pot.

A shock registered on my face at the emptiness I saw in my pot.

Surely the the witches in my village had chosen today as my day of visitation.

Surely the girl I insulted in my night class had taken my case to her coven in the midnight.

Surely God had remembered the false pledge I had made in Fellowship on Sunday.

Who could blame me?

All the students were coming out.

And woe betide me if Elizabeth, the lady I was in awe of, saw me staying back.

Or maybe God was punishing me for cursing that early morning flyover preacher.

Who could blame me?

For in the midst of collecting a car gift in my dreams,

The preacher had shouted
*Give your life to Jesus*

For in the midst of being adopted by Lil Wayne in my dreams,

The preacher had shouted
*Jesus is coming*

Being very hungry and angry,
I marched on to Toseton kitchen.

The last three thousand naira in my pocket.

Being filled with pounded yam and goat meat,
I proceeded to board a bus to Oluku.

I am going to sin well today abeg.

Get me a nice street lady to take care of my needs.

Walking down the highway of damnation,
Cat calls abounded from all sides.

*Hey fine boy*
*Come make I do you well*
*Only five hundred naira, you go see heaven*

The daughters of Beliah were honing their trade.

With quickened steps a man walked up to me.

*Brother.. Do you know Jesus loves you?*
He asked while extending a tract to me.

Dispair gripped me,
For this oga wanted to kill my morale and quench my dopamine rush.

*Yes.. I know. And I have accepted Him as my personal lord and saviour*
I quickly chipped back.

Hoping he would get the idea and leave me alone.

*Brother, God is telling me to pray with you. Do you mind?*
He asked while extending hands towards me.

*Okay.. No problem*
I answered.
Graciously wishing he would be through in a minute.

Whilst praying,
A call came through.

Mama was calling to check up on her 'pekin' today.

*Hello..Ma..*
*I am fine ma..*
*You sent?*

(Getting excited)

*Twenty five thousand*
*Jesuuu. Daalu shiine Nnem oma*
*Yes ma, I will love God more ma*

Call ending.
Another came through.

Cynthia was on the phone

*Kosi the scholarrr... You got the highest in the test oo*
She said.

*You must be high Chiwendu*
I replied.

All the while in confusion
For she never lied to me at all.

God did it again.

Saved me from the path of damnation once again.

Showed me His loving kindness despite my momentary intent of sin.

Then I knew,
That the God that watched over me neither slept nor slumbered.

I was eighteen and this was my ecounter with God
#BASHORUN

*Kosi stand up there and tell us the circumference of a circle*

The maths teacher was at it again.

Knowing fully well that my head rejected maths vehemently.

Knowing fully well that my score and red ink were best friends.

*Ee-hh-mm, eehhm, I don't know ma*

In a split second,
Her hands twitched.

Like an unwanted guest gate crashing a wedding.
The cane suddenly landed on my back.

Amidst the tears
I knew that God existed and He simply hated me.

Saturday came.
That dreaded day of house inspections.

The day of joy had come for most SS3 students.

Like hyenas surrounding a gazelle while going for the kill,
They surround all junior students while still in their drawals.

Who could blame them?

They had endured five years of beating and were entitled to dishing it out now.

The hour hand clocked 5am.
The house prefect rang the wake up bell.

With satisfaction,
I rose from my bug infested bed.

Today was going to be different
Because I had a bucket and had fetched water.

Been a long while I felt this way .
For the bushes around and toilets had always been my place of refuge.

Refuge from those seniors obsessed with finding erring junior students.
Refuge from the whole sham process they called Inspection.
Refuge till the dinning bell rang and the seniors were dispersed.

Today was definitely going to be alright.

Sliding down my bunk.

I sighted senior Francis.

The lazy and dirty man was getting his whips ready for the assembly.

Bending down and looking under the bunk.
The greatest shock of the century gripped me.

Someone had stolen my bucket of water.
And my long brooms too.

*Aaaeeee*
I cried out loud.

My heart beating faster now
I was going to be canned.

Worse still,
Riding a bike mid-air was going to be my punishment.

A means of escape began to devise in my mind.

'Back of Mr Shittu's house would be my refuge'

I began to tiptoe towards the south exit of the hostel.

*Kosi come here*
Senior Seyi roared.

For his hawk like eyes had been on me the whole time.

*Lie down flat there*

Amidst the beating
Amidst the jeers from fellow students,

I knew there was a God
And He hated me much.

Sunday afternoon came.

The dinning bells rang
Jollof rice and egg was the meal to be served.

Like Flash on a mission to save the earth,
I ran to the dining hall.

Spoon, fork and knife all in hand.
'Na God go punish any teacher or senior wey ask for cutlery today'

Sitting at the edge of the bench.

Embracing the food bowl a little too tight.
An evidence of my first place position in the race for the dinning table.

The time had come.
To show forth my serving skills and acumen

While waiting for the hall to fill up,
My mind fantasized.

*Yes, I will heap my plate big. Then put small thing for Austa. I will punish him for laughing at my predicament*

*Enifome..Enifome. I will put two more helpings to her plate. Being the only girl at the table, I needed to impress her and this was my opportunity*

Hands on my shoulders detached me from my thoughts.

It was Tokede again.

What did he want?
For his table was far away from mine.

*Kosi,Kosi. I hope you remember our deal ooo*

Our dealll
Our deal!

*Which deal Toke*
I asked in apparent confusion.

*My Thursday evening Asaro  (Porridge) wey you chop naa*
Toke answered.
Obviously puzzled at my forgetfulness

*Yesss. I remember oo. You made a deal with Him*
Lasisi spoke out.

Who could blame him?

He was the second to reach the table and he too had fantasized on the heavy rice he would put on his plate.

*Jesuuuu, mo gbe*
Three words that came out of my lips.

Like Esau,
I had traded the future glory to satisfy a fleeting momentary pleasure.

In my gluttony,
I had traded my Sunday rice and egg for his Porridge that evening.

Shame faced and downcast,
I trudged out of the hall towards the hostel.

At least my locker held small garri and sugar I could manage.

Reaching the hostel,
My locker was wide open.
The 'chairmen' had plundered me.

*I have had it*
I shouted to the heavens.

Marching furiously towards the chapel,

It was time to tell God that He was wicked to His face.

Entering the church,
I began yelling.

*You are just wicked, you this God. They said you are good and yet you allow all these to happen to me?*

A hand touched my shoulders.
It was a certain Senior Tobi the head boy.

*God loves you* He said.

*Psst. Then why am I facing all these problems* I answered back.

*To bring you back to Him and make you realize that He is your maker* He replied

*Have you eaten?* He added.

*No sir*

Senior Tobi took me back to the dinning hall.

As it was custom,

Twelve students were given one food bowl.
While prefects had full bowls for themselves.

Having came with Senior Tobi,
I ate directly from his bowl.

Four eggs and twelve helpings of jollof had been my portion.

There and then I knew.
Knew that God existed.
And He loved me dearly.

For even though everything was working against me,
His plans towards me always reflected a blissful expected end.

Like a king I ate,
In the presence of my table members who gazed hungrily at my plate.

My cup ran over with joy.
For Senior Tobi sent Lasisi to go and buy Fanta for both of us at the Tuck shop.

Surely, God remained my fortress.
For I could always go and report anyone to Senior Tobi

I was thirteen and this was my first encounter with God.
#BASHORUN

*Mi o ba e sere mo*
(I am not playing with you again)

The first profound break up statement that left me sad.

Sad till Sunday evening at least.
For no one could be sad while seeing mommy prepare rice and stew.

Thank God for brother Nnamdi then.
For the sight of him, sending the chicken to its maker, warmed my heart very much.

Five weeks later,
I had another Muse in sight

Tinuke was her name
And my heart wanted to love her for all times.

I set my plan in motion

*Mommy buy me kito*
Became my daily cry for the next three weeks.
Who does not know that children are fascinated by new things.

I paid mama's purse it's unofficial visit too that week.
Forty naira was the full dividend of my endeavors
Who could blame me?
I was only taking back the money Aunty Isioma gave my mommy to keep for me.

The next day came.
I ran to iya bisi first
*Mummy mummy*
*Eclairs sweet twenty naira*
*Okin biscuit ten naira*

Then running westwards towards the day care class,

I me iya Ismaila.

*Guguru and epa  (popcorn and groundnut) ten naira*

Having gathered my gifts.
I marched to primary 1b again.

Shinning kito on my feet.
Red plastic wristwatch on my hands,
Blue plastic sunshades on my face,

Both gifts from father Christmas last December.

Or at least that is what Uncle Leke had wanted us all to believe.

Too bad his sweat had wiped off all the face powder when I got to seat on his lap.

Too bad his voice was heavily laced with the Ijebu accent that it corrupted his English language.

Entering the primary 1b class I walked over to Ayo's desk first.

Lord knows I needed to nullify the potential threat going to be posed by an ex-girlfriend.

*Aaa-yo I have a gift for you oo*

All the while, bringing out the three Okin biscuits one after the other and sliding it into her hands.

*Okay thank you*
Ayo replied with a lazy response.

Hallelujah.
My heart sang
My momentary joy could only be rivaled by the joy of seeing daddy put on the TV to watch my power-rangers.

*Open Sesame* I almost shouted.
Doing my best impression of The chief of thieves in 'Aladin and the forty thieves'

Ayo had fallen for the ruse.
Now I proceeded with a delightful gait towards Tinuke mi.

Tinu had on a 'skuuku' hairstyle today.

Her earrings had a golden look with a smudge of silver.

Her shoes were kito too
*We would make a dashing matching couple*
My mind envisioned.

*Hee-loo Tinuke*
I said in whispered tones
For Aunty Lydia, her class teacher, desk was nearby.
Lest her ears latch on to loose words from my prepared love speech.

*Tinuke do you like TeleTobies*
I asked.
Trying to find a common ground from which to launch my assault.

*Yeessss. I love lala and Dipsy very much*
She said in sing song voice.

*Me too. I like Tinkie Winkie and boy*
I replied.

Even though Tales by moonlight and power-rangers were my only two programs.

*I have a gift for you o. You will like it*

All the while pushing the Eclairs sweet towards her.

*My mommy said I should not...* Tinuke started to say.

Up until her eyes sighted the Eclairs sweet.

With a sweet like that, which child could refuse?
For everything about it was just perfect.

A very attractive blue wrapper.
And a two layered, milky and chocolaty taste that could rival the ambrosia of the ancient Greek gods.

*Thank you*
She said as she popped two sweets into her mouth.

*Will you be my friend*
As I laid down the popcorn and groundnut at her table.

*Yess*
She replied.
Opening the gateway of joy inflow into my soul once again

I was as lucky as Akpan Akan Udo.
Was feeling so much fly that Samurai Jack would envy me*

*Run to your class now*
Aunty Lydia thundered at me.
As I scampered towards the door to primary 1a.

Our relationship lasted four days.

Who could blame her?

Apparently her mommy discovered an Eclairs sweet in her bag and had made Tinuke remember the presence and essence of koboko in character building.

Apparently I could not recollect three episodes of TeleTobies and did not even know Tinkie Winkie's color.

Apparently, like Ayo, Tinuke hated maths and expected me to always solve multiplication table.

Who could blame me?

Apparently mommy was the new owner of the money I thought belonged to me in the first place.

Apparently, Ayo, my ex girlfriend, told Tinuke that I was an *atoile* bedwetter.

Apparently, the feeling of love can be washed away with a hot slap from an angry mother.
This fact I learnt when mommy discovered the loss of her money two days later.
#BASHORUN

ajan kolo kolo.
eleshi shi lori.

They all chorused around her.
Making fun of her hair.

Fuming with a childish ire,
I ran into their midst.

Swinging the stick in my hands with a view of defending her worth.

I was six and already in love.

Her upper incisors were far apart.

People called it eji when she smiled.
I told mama I wanted mine like hers.

Perhaps she would notice me then.

Mum cooked ewedu the night before.
With tiptoed steps, I paid the pot a visit in the midnight.

Wrapping the stolen meat in a nylon bag,
I slept with anticipation of the joy the next day would bring.

Morning came, I danced around in gleeful preparations for school

Mama was confused.

*Is this not the same boy that cries all the way to school*

She never noticed the sour taste of the soup and one missing occupant.

Arriving at school, I ran to the vendor.

*Iya bisi*
*Bread and butter 15 naira*
*lolli 5 naira*
*Okin biscuit 10 naira*

I was going to declare my intent that day.
I was going to confront my Goliath that day.

Like a soldier,
With a well ironed shirt.
Gator lined shorts.
And,thanks to mama,
Already laundered boxers
Lord knows I did not want to be called *atoile* bedwetter.

I marched towards primary 1b.

*Hh-ee-lloo Aaa-yo*
*I have a gift for you o*

Raising her *pineapple* plaited head from her book,

My Ayo smiled at me.
Her cheeks adopted a brief tint of pink.

*What do you have for me?*

With a brisk eagerness,
I brought out the nylon wrapped meat.
Not sensing its rotten smell while gingerly placing it on her desk.

*Nnnyaamaaa*
She said adopting a disgusted look as she surveyed my gift.

Heart Racing at the prospect of losing this chance to impress,

I quickly brought out my other gifts.

*See this one*
I said
Nudging the Okin biscuit her way.
For I had noticed she loved eating it.

Her eyes brightened.
I had provided the spark.

*You are fine*
I said.

Her heart softened.
I had provided the magic words.

*Will you be my friend?*
I asked with an expectant look.

*Okay* She replied.
The assembly bell rung thus ending our batter.

Two weeks later.
Ayo and I patted ways.

Who could blame her?

For I had broken her Hb pencil approximately five times.

I had pushed the playground swing too much while she sat on it.

And I had failed to solve her multiplication table homework.

Who could blame me?

Ayo always wanted to use my money to buy Okin biscuit.
*As if her mommy did not give her feeding money*

Ayo always wanted me to play *tinko tinko* with Titilayo and Tinuke her friends.

Ayo had made my mum spank me much for my informal visit to her pot of ewedu soup.

I was six and this was my first encounter with love.
#BASHORUN