WHO IS IT ALL FOR?

I write for my mama
Reveling in every smile that cuts across her face as she reads every line.
Ecstatic at the sound of her thanksgiving praises unto God that her little 'pekin' is serving the Lord in the days of his youth.

I write for Iya Atinuke.
My dearest muse who would peruse my works and laugh.
A proud laughter at the 'crazily gifted' man who God has given to her.
One who would keep pushing the message of Christ always and finding new ways to elucidate her beauty to the whole world.

I write for Atinuke mi.
My unborn girl child who would walk tall among her mates.
My mini wonder who would conquer the world with greater ideas while following daddy's words and daddy's God as a ready compass and strenght.
My little queen whose ideas would eclipse her dad's and establish the Bashorun name for eons to come.

I write for my sisters.
Priceless jewels who possess inestimable worth.
God's special ones who I strive to remind of their beauty and uniqueness.
Fragile ones, who I continually pray, would become excellent vessels fit for the masters use.
Budding mothers of nations who, I always pray, would become virtuous.

I write for my brothers.
My 'egbons' and 'aburos' who are created to reign.
To remind them of their purpose in life.
For a purposeless man breds a purposeless society.
One filled with little thugs whose perceptions of life are false and generally have no rudder to guide their ships.

To infuse my brothers bones with life, lies my purpose.
Wisdom bones for their teeths to crack open.
And introducing the giver of life, Jesus, at every line of my stanzas.

I write for my mamas and Papas.
Evoking trips down memory lane to get their ribs cracking in laughter.
Presenting life in few stanzas for them to correct or give the thumbs up button.
For they have toed the lane which I am treading now.
And their wisdom is far more invaluable than the advise of ten thousand peers.

I write for my God.
Dadi m who gave me all I have to give.
Baba mi whose commission rouses me in the middle of the night to pen down words.
And whose messages, I must deliver to individuals even though my head aches from lack of sleep.

I write to take at least 50,000 people along with me to heaven.
Leading them in frenzied dances of thanksgiving into the courts of the new Jerusalem.
Showing them their mansions and hearing them give thanks to God for sending this lanky Boy called #Bashorun to preach the goodnews to them.

What and who do you live for?
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

Watch out for a trip down NYSC CAMP LANE tomorrow.