My muse.

Nwunye m who I joyfully look forward to dragging heads of plantain to your doorstep and balancing kegs of that local elixir, palmwine, in order to seek your hand in marriage.

Iyawo mi who my hands desire to hold tightly like the way that ruffian stoway, Jack, held that pretty paragon of beauty, Rose, on the deck of that famed ship whose owner swore would never sink.

Onye obi m choro who throws a match to the gunpowder of my heart, causing it to explode and erupt a blazing inferno of loving emotions.

Nne, I kid you not,
Yesterday was war for me.

A faceoff of two opposing knights who swore to duel to the death in fencing.
An duel between two gung ho shooters whose hatred for each other caused the very earth they stood on to tremble and forced the whole town to stay indoors for the duration of the whole fight.
A conflagration between nations who had stockpiled all the weapons of destruction in their arsenal and awaited a slight 'slight' in order to unleash hell while watching the devastating mushroom form in the sky and listening to the stinging wails of the people in pain.

Aye.
Yesterday was painful for me.
For I had to make a life defining choice nne.

A choice between you and God.

"An easy choice"
Some may say.

More like choosing the winner of a football match between Barcelona and Awka United.
More like picking the likely winner of the 'Money in the bank' fight between Great Khali and Rey Mysterio.
More like picking the likely winner of a Quiditch match between Hufflepuff and Gryfindor.
More like choosing the victorious wizard in a duel between Albus Dumbledore and Ron Weasley.
More like picking which Jollof rice is the best between Nigeria and Ghana's.
More like choosing who could win a Hollywood audition for a crying acting role between Mercy Johnson and Karen Kapoor.

All of the above are easy choices,
But leaving you was not.

How could I find it easy leaving your warm embrace just so I could chart a new course on a lonely and windy road?
For my lot is like Lot's and my creator beckoned to me like Abram.

How could I find it easy looking at the surgeon as He removed that part of me that loved you so much?
For my lot is like that of the Israelites who endured forty years in the surgery theater.

How could anyone think that following the master is always as interesting as a child's visit to Willi Wonka's chocolate factory or to Disney land?
For He personally guaranteed pain and rejection from loved ones for His sake.

Anyways, I have decided to follow my master.
And this is my farewell letter to you.

Indeed you provided me with moments of intense happiness, but I am ready to follow the one who provides everlasting joy to my soul.

Even though you hardly provided any visible scourge to hurt my tender back, I could feel worms growing within me due to the over ripened fruits you fed me with when we sat together in the gardens with luxuriant vegetation providing a shield against prying eyes.

Even though I know that He who calls me would chastise me a bit, I know that, like a Igbo boy who endures under his master for years in Lagos, my ending would be excellent.

Here is a goodbye letter to my former lover called SIN.

Ajosepo wa ti tan loni o.
Ma gbe keke re lo nitoripe mi o ba e sere mo.
#Bashorun

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