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*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

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*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

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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

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When all seems down.

When all applause die down and replaced by mute acknowledgement from men.
What replaces the silence?

When the raging roaring wildfire of love simmers to dying embers of disgust.
What and who ignites it?

When the ocean of wealth dries up and leaves a desert of hunger in its wake.
Who do we depend on for restoration?

When the alluring sounds of appreciation tones down to disparaging quakes of over familiarity.
Who becomes our comforter?

When the sweet savory taste of victory gives away to bitter plums of defeat.
Who and what encourages and reinvigorates us?

When we achieve our most sought after passion and realized how unfulfilling it was.
What stops us from slipping into depression?

When the doors of favour slam shut and the riches acquired rot.
Who owns the master key to which the doors are opened?

When the hordes of incoming calls reduces to *No missed calls*
Who becomes our source of inspiration and asserts our relevance to life.

When the wrinkles and beauty defy surgery,

When the dying body features defy enhancements,

When the failing voice defies vocal training,

What and who fills the void and pain following rejection?

When the kids leave to follow their paths in life,

When the *goons* and *Best Friends Forever* are nowhere to be found,

When *Bae* and *Darling* become powerless in face of the storms,

Who turns that tide of depression into a deluge of joy?


One thing I can guarantee,
Earthly possessions NEVER fill such void.

One location I can point to,
The feet of my Lord where strength flows into all bones.

One source of ultimate power i know, who does not trick one to destructive ends.

Jesus Christ is His name.
Strands of grace hang from His mane.
The confessions of haters He puts to shame.
Showers of blessings He causes to rain.

Jesus I know.
His love I preach to all.
#BASHORUN

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*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

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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

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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

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Man know thyself,
And stop living to please other people.

Woman know thy beauty,
And stop falling for every compliment that comes from people's lips.

Man know thy strength,
And stop beating your wife trying to prove an already established point.

Woman watch thy tongue,
And stop wrecking everything that God has given to you.

Man know your weakness,
And work on them in order not to be destroyed by them.

Woman know your worth,
And stop trying to impose yourself on a man that does not value you.

Man know your creator,
And stop living a life filled with vain and unfruitful pursuits .

Woman know your coat size,
And stop wasting resourses trying to 'belong' to every class and group.

Man know God's command to you.
And start being fruitful and victorious in all your activities

Woman know your allure,
And let moderation be your watchword, lest you lead men to doom.

Husbands love your wives,
Lest a stranger comes and wrecks your home.

Wives submit to your husbands,
Lest you push him to using extreme measures to make you submit.

Children obey your elders,
That your days may indeed be long.

The unexamined life is not worth living.
The unchecked habit would lead to disaster.
The unbridled pride will bring a great fall.

Man know your destination after death.
And live a life geared towards its fulfiment.
#BASHORUN

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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

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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

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*Where was the benin kingdom located in pre colonial Nigeria map?*
I asked my SS1 students.

*In the north next to Ilorinn*. The first student answered.

*Noo.*
As I pointed to Joy my best student to save the day.

*Ancient benin kingdom with the oba as its head was located in the south western region of Nigeria with Kano as its borders*
Joy replied with a fulfilling smile plastered on her face.

*Jesuu..*
I had surely carried my sacrifice beyond the crossroads.

With bare singlet on my back and bare hands,
I had volunteered to destroy the Hornets nest.

I should never have come to teach today.

Should have just gone to ibom Tropicana to watch Jupiter Ascending.

Lord knows I needed it.

Marking the SS1 history and Economics scripts the previous night had my head in aches.

Worse still,
Papa at the family house had declared that day a fast
Thus the kitchen under lock and key.

*Mfono ntoro o*
I shouted at the children.
Exiting the class towards Lady J's biology class.

Perhaps I would find a little joy.

Standing before the class in exquisite gown,
I could tell she was not doing great as well.

For three unruly students had decided she was target practice for their squeezed papers.

Whilst sitting by the window,
The sun flies came.

Ibom demonic agents that left bu
mps across your smooth skin.
Angry at their arrival, I raced to the corpers lodge.

'Sosogho Abasi'
Patrick had cooked afang soup today.

With great joy,
Eba materialised within three minutes
.
Lading the soup to the plate,
I noticed the presence of periwinkles.

The Ayaya ibom people, I loved.
The Ayaya ibom culture, I fancied.

That moment was the exception.

For eating became a chore.
Stopping every three seconds to remove hard shells from my mouth.

That week went terribly for me.

A falling out with the CLO left me waiting seven hours to sign attendance at the secretariat.

A fall out with the sisters coordinator left the president insisting that the 6am to 6pm fasting continue for the whole week.

A fall out with the Uncle left me with Toilet duties for four consecutive days

A fall out with the principal left our monthly clearance papers unsigned till the last day.

A fall out with the Area Inspector left me in blisters having been told to clear the bushes around.

Valentines day came.
Love was in the air.

My chance at impressing Ola had come.

At Uyo,
The golden necklace was bought.

From Oron,
The pink shoes were sent.

From Ikot Ekpene,
The earrings came.

At Nung Udoe,
The gifts were wrapped.

At Eket beach,
The gifts were given.

*Oshe kosi*
Ola said
A wonderful smile lightening up her face.

Her voice,
Flooded my heart with a glowing warmth.
Ignited the embers of inner joy in my being.
Instigated the need to spend my whole 19,800 on her alone.

Who could blame me?

A beautiful lady like her would always be admired by all.

An appreciative lady with great character like her would always be lounged-for by the best people.

A friend had brought Origin along.
At last I tasted the much talked about drink.

Another friend rode a horse
At last, I enjoyed the feeling of mid air floating while in top speed.

The beach we all entered,
The salty waters we all tasted.
The ocean tidal waves we all battled.

And victorious we emerged,

Like little kids,
Giggling all the way.
Sharing bouts of unrestrained laughs.
Racing around while engaging in mock games.

This was spirit of ethnic cooperation
And we were its joyful examples.

Within seconds, disaster struck.
Within minutes, chaos abounded all around.

The meek ocean had showed its ugly side.
The salty waters had claimed another victim.

Victor was his name
Kosi is my name.

The letter B was his batch.

The adjectives *macho, intimidating* described his physique.
The adjectives *thin, slim* describes my physique.

The word *none* described his body alcohol content.
The number *32* may have been an accurate description of my body alcoholic content.

The number *7* details the *minutes* he spent in the waters before drowning.
The number *2* details the *hours* I spent in the waters while playing.

The word *near* described his distance from the shoreline.
The words *Very far* described my distance from any form of help.

For the the alcohol in me had evoked a daring *do or die* feeling in me.

Going with the statistics,
I was to be carried away by the waters.

Going with the state of mind,
I would have been lying comatose the next week.

Going by the depths we had both reached.
My family should have been the recipient of #500,000 earmarked as consolation fee.

I knew then that God was faithful.

For on Hells pathway I would have trudged.
Being sped up to eternal damnation by the whips of demons.

For I was not a saint then.
And my name was not in the book of life.

I gave glory to Him,
Who saved me even up till today.

I was twenty two years and this was my encounter with God
#BASHORUN

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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

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THIRTEEN YEARS AND IN GOD

*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

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SIX YEARS AND IN LOVE - EPISODE 2.
*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

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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.
#BASHORUN

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He lived a life of stryggle.

Prayers turned into a chore.
Obedience to authority, became a struggle.

Christian existed in words only and the power was absent

He tried to die daily.
Reading the Bible for the whole day.

Waking up the next day,

His old habits overpowered him,
Dragging him back to the depths of sin.

He needed more
He needed the Refiner's fire.

Refiner's fire,
Burning away the impurities in the believer.

Refiner's fire,
Giving strength and power to achieve the impossible

Refiner's Fire
Igniting the spirit's will to overcome bodily desires.

Refiner's fire,
Breaking all human and spiritual strongholds limiting the believers growth.

The master beckons to all
*Comeee*

Long have you struggled to follow my path.

Revised human methods to live holy.

Devised numerous ways to overcome the battles of life.

Canvassed different sources and people for deliverance and help.

The time has come.
To worship in spirit and truth.

The time has come.
For the refining fire.

Beloved. Have you been to Jesus for the cleansing fire?
Seek Him now, passionately desire the fire and begin to walk in the power of redemption.
#BASHORUN

In Sin's cradle was I raised.

*Raised to ruin*,
So I kept ruining.

Confusing love with lust.
Thus ruining its essence by demanding sex as a concrete evidence of love.

Confusing joy with pleasure.
And so preached a life solely devoted to material chase.
Thus ruining the essence of life's purpose.

*Raised in fear*,
So I fretted.

So much afraid of the future that I forgot to enjoy the present.

So much afraid of what people would say that I spurred the love of Christ.

So much fearful of losing my worldly possessions that I forgot they could not go with me to the life beyond.

So much afraid of death that I never took to chance to hear Jesus tell others
*Because I live, you will Live*

*Raised to fail*.
So I became chief amongst the fallen.

Masked my failure at doing good by insisting that man can never be Altruistic.

Masked my failure to love my wife by insisting all women are to be always handled with a strong hand.

Masked my failures to trust my husband by insisting that all men are dogs.

Masked my failures to forgive others by insisting that total forgiveness lies in the realm of the gods.

Masked my failures at having true joy by creating an illusion for everybody who looked up to me for answers.

Coke, Crack, Meth, Xcstsy, Weed?
I did them all.
With a life empty and dull like mine.
Who didn't?

Tall, Short, Caucasian, Ebony?
I slept with them all.
With a need to sustain my dopamine 'highs'.
Who didn't?

Jesus pieces, Maybachs Jordans, Gold chains?
I rocked them all.
With a dire need to sustain social acceptance.
Who didn't?

Zaron, Mary Kay, Allure?
I wore them all
With a need to cover up my facial tears
Who didn't?

No one cared
Or so I thought.

Then, I met Him.

Him,
Who through ages past remains the same.

Who healed the sick and raised the lame.

Who touched my heart and healed my pain.

Who bore my sins and shunned the shame.

Who, in the book of life, wrote my name.

Who, in the templeof death, removed my frame.

Conduit of God's love I have become.
Complete in Him through grace.
Culled from the fatted cows for slaughter.
Called to be His own.

And sent forth to tell you these words over and over.

*God loves you*
*God loves you*
And *Jesus loves you*
#BASHORUN

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A Holy vessel chosen by God.
Redeemed by His mighty hand from deaths claws.

Living Stones.
Rejected by the men of the world.
For they stand on the truth at all times.

Living Stones.
Desirous of the pure milk of the word.
Daily drinking the word into a stupor.
Dying daily to self will for the enthronment of God's will.

Living Stones.
Terrible at keeping malice.
For in their hearts resided the Spirit of love.
Their hands,
Always outstretched in good deeds.

Living Stones.
*Fools*. People called them.
For they used a just scale to dispense their judgement.
And offered a fair price for all their goods.

Living Stones.
Hypocrisy was foreign to them.
Their thoughts,
Refined with the fire of love.
Their actions,
Living definition of the word 'Love'.

Living Stones.
Envy hated them.
For they believed in Solomons maxim 'All is Vanity'.
Thus, becoming rocky soils upon which seeds of envy never grew.

They were the true chosen generation.
Called to reign in His marvelous light.

Beloved, becoming a living stone for Christ may alienate you from other people but will most definitely make you elevated by God.
#BASHORUN

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DEAR FUTURE WIFE.

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

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The man was excited
Dispatching his official duties quicker than before.

His mind,
Picturing all the desires the night would bring.

He had met a jaw dropping diva last week.
With much words and gifts, she agreed.
Tonights rendezvous would consumate that agreement.

He had a wife at home.
Lord knows he loved her much.
But she was spice less now.

Once upon a time fiery and crazy,
Now their sex life had become boringly cold.
He would revive that coldness tonight.

Monique
Yes.. Monique would be his spark.
She would make him whole again.

Evening came.
He drove to her place.

Monique set his desires on fire.
The sex session was totally on point.
He sang, she danced.
A perfect harmonious routine that lasted 44 minutes.

Deed done,
He left her apartment.

New spirits had merged with his.

One, whose name was Stagnation.
The other, whose name was drunkenness.
The last, whose name was legion.

Reaching his home,
The man kissed his wife in welcome.

The family demons,
Formerly depleted by the wife's prayers,
Spread welcoming arms to their new comrades.

Help had come.
They could wage a more destructive war on the family together.

The man never knew.

Never knew that sex is a unifying ceremony.

A unity of Destines.
A marriage of Curses
A merger of habits.
A transference of spirits.

Fifteen days later.
He sat in deep thought, at his work desk.

New traits had showed up in his home.

His son had stolen at school.
Junior, who never lacked anything he wanted.

Neighbors had caught his daughter having sex.

Jesus!!!
My little baby that knows the word of God by heart.

Three days back,
Iyawo had drank a full bottled Red wine.

A very coincidental trait his mistress had.

Pretty lady could finish three MacDowells at a go.

This morning,
Madame dearest had called him a fool.
A virtuous woman whose lips never uttered a curse beforehand.

*Fool*
Gosh, that word stung him

For Monique used the word at every angry outburst.

Hmmpf!
Funny.

'London Bridge is falling down' had been his favorite recital as a child.
Now his marriage was doing the falling.

Gathering up his wits.
He met with the pastor.

In prayers, they waged war.
In prayers, he was purged.
Purged of all willingly acquired spirits.

Having being saved,
He realized it was all fruitless.

Beloved, sex is a sacred act meant to unify a husband and his wife.
Because it involves a union of spirits, it is an easy means for the devil to wreck unsuspecting lives. It is never casual.
#BASHORUN

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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

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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

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They all walked the same streets we walk now.

We felt their essence.
Laughed at their jokes
Partook in their painful moments
Rejoiced at their victories

They all left.

The cold kiss of death plastered on their lips.

Reminding us of the inescapable reality of this transcient life.

We cried,
For we were touched by their lives.

*Sunday Alabi was his name*.
But they called him Newton.

For he believed,
In the excellency of Jesus above all.

For he advocated,
The strive for knowlegde and love.

He uttered no word,
His life and actions spoke all that was needed.

*Felicia Azibiantu was her name*
But they called her the true Christian.

For her arms of charity embraced the whole town.

And her love for prayers inspired and healed many.

*Inetanbor Reuben was his name*.
The man who rocked a beard and had a big heart.

Elegance of character was his imprint.

Words of encouragement were his constant gifts ti all.

*Omolara Balogun was her name*.
Pretty little lady with a big God in her.

Her smile was the imprint.

Genuine in sight,
Bringing love to light,
Putting sadness to flight.

*Patience Ogbor was her name*.
She was loved by all.
Literally LOVED BY ALL.

Against the battles of life,
Patience was her weapon.

Against the evil doers that crossed her path,
Charity was her greeting word.

Despised no one
Pride was a foreign and unwelcomed entity.

Her imprints,
Visibly seen in lives she left behind.

Her love,
Soundly heard in every home her feet entered.

Their lives,
Built on Jesus the solid rock.

Their actions,
Found in the ancient word, the Bible.

Their legacies,
A life of service,
With fierce devotion to keeping God's house in good shape.

They were God's generals.
Now they reign with Him in glory.
#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

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I was battered.
Beaten, by sin, to an inch of life.
My mouth uttered no complaints.
I was a victim of my provocation of sin.
Yet, He healed me.
Oh love that would not let me die.

My hands were bloodied.
My heart was hardened.
My conscience was wrenched.
Yet, He restored all.
Oh love that would not let me lose.

Here I am chained up,
A prisoner of my own actions.
Condemned to fruitless struggles.
Deserving of no mercy for I gave none to anyone.
Yet, He severed those chains.
Oh love that would not let me rot.

A wretch I was,
Leaving the abode of sweet petals.
Ran away to dwell with the pigs.
For the pig farm looked good from afar off.
Yet, He came.
Left His mansions to come pick me.
I stank, tainting His glory with my sins.
Oh love that did not care about my sin.

About falling of the ledge.
His hands came holding me tight.
I fought Him.
Kept on biting off His fingers.
Kept on pushing away His hands.
He did not let go.
That boundless love did not let go.

Jesus...Jesus.
I merited nothing.
I squandered all my inheritance.
Still He gave me everything back and more.

Just as He called me.
He calls you too.
*Because of what I have done for you, You can start all over again*

Come one, come all. Everlasting life and victory awaits all those who believe.
#BASHORUN

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The accounts department looked at the numbers.

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

At the far end of the prop,
The IndecentStar 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

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ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

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

DEAR FREDRICK NIETZSCHE

While your book characters killed God.

My characters in reality killed millions to justify your maxim
'God is dead'.

And a new superhuman must take His place to guide humanity.

Your superman came.
Charging on the horse of charisma to save his nation.
Exuding an aura of Aryan superiority.

Hitler was his name.

He fit your descriptions. Didn't he Frederick?

Relentless in his strive to purge 'unclean influences' tainting his people.

A proud flyer of your flag which you engrafted 'GOD IS DEAD' upon.

He created his moral code.
Why won't he have done that?

For you and Richard Dawkins your devoted student had given him the free pass.

You both told him there was no absolute moral law.

Hitler wrote a book.
Yes, Mein Kampf was its name.
He espoused such lofty ideals in it.

Here, let me tell you some.

He and his Aryan brothers deserved to rule the earth.

Yes..The other peoples were to be slaves to him.

Or guinea pigs to fuel the research to better the Aryan race.

I think you said it was necessary
Your dear friend Mr Darwin called it Survival of the fittest.

He killed 20 million Jews. Frederick.
Can you hear me!?

A man like them,
The same 46 chromosomes in each cell of theirs and his.
The same nucleotides present in both of their DNAs.

But God was dead now.

So He, Rudolph Hess, Josef Mengele, Gobbeles and other cohorts could sit and drink tea,

Watching twenty people gassed alive without fear of judgement.

Hitler was not the only superman you created.

Oh no.

There were many others, profoundly two.

Stalin and 'That Great leap' guy Mao Zedong.

I will write a letter to your friend Karl Marx about that.

For his little red book which denounced God
Wrecked millions of lives.

I write no more Mr Frederick.

For there are teardrops breaking free in my eyes now.
For abortionists have started using your words Fredrick.

Your words to justify the murder of God's precious gifts to mankind.

I guess you knew the implications of your words.

I wish you had come out of your fiften years coma state.

I wish you had seen your mothers tears as she read you the scriptures.

I wish you had lived longer.

Enough to witness firsthand the devastation of your words.

Long enough to see the futility of man's efforts to pave a way for himself in this world without God as his moral compass.
#BASHORUN

Sister Gloria ooo.
You are my light
The one God sent to brighten my world.
You are my balm
The one God destined to soothe my soul.
You are my rudder
The one God sent to steer me unto greatness.
I was nothing but with you, my life has meaning.
You are beautiful on the inside and outside.
I am always joyous to see you
This priceless joy helps my dream.
*Are you sure?* She asked.
*Yes my love*
Like the peacock,
You are elegant in speech and radiant in beauty.
Your eyes,
Tiny eyeballs reflecting God's glory.
Do you know what the Bible says?
It says Man that is in honor and understands not is like the beast that perish.
Further and further, He continued.
Farther and farther, her smile widened.
She was in love.
Her head,
Bursting with pride at being the center of Bro Dele's universe.
Her heart,
Filled with a fierce devotion to keep him at all costs.
Sound reasoning had took flight.
Overdrive of emotions had taken charge .
She was ripe for his taking
A woman who allowed love transcend reasoning.
He took the shot.
Promising her his continued love if she would grace his bed.
He quoted scriptures to emphasize the essence of love expressed in action.
Told her that intimacy would solidify the bond of love.
He adorned his bed with roses,
Told her it would continue like that even after the marriage.
Well,
Sis Gloria fell for it.
It is four months now.
Her monthly visitor refused to come last month.
You are three months pregnant now. Doctor said.
You have to evacuate this thing. Dele said
I told you to listen with your ear and think with your head. Dad said.
*Bro Dele, bro Dele. May God punish you*.
Her last words as she took the rat poison.
For the shame was too much.
My sisters.
That he is a brother in Church does not mean he is in Christ. Never allow emotions rule your actions.
#BASHORUN

THE LAW OF AVERAGES
(Deuteronomy 8:1-18)

The more you try the more the chances.

With this mindset,
He moved

Like a worthy general of God, spreading the gospel.

Kicked, insulted,
He kept at it.

The world saw a man without a home.

The saints on high saw him as the man with the biggest mansion and crowns.

With this mindset,
She prayed.

Like a virtuous woman hoping for God's touch of her husband.

Assaulted by his drunken rages,
Condemned to daily dose of worry.

Yet she kept at it.

The world saw a foolish and hopeless believer.

The saints on high saw a woman at the cusp of long lasting victory.

With this mindset,
He read.

Like a diligent student hoping to excel in the department without cutting corners.

He gave the monies to the church,
Invoking the Almighty to bear witness to his faith

Daring the wrath of the tough lecturer.

The world saw another fanatic whose failure would be phenomenal.

Heaven saw a man already basking in the euphoria of being the Best the school had ever produced.

With this mindset,
She persisted.

A faithful child, fully trusting in God's grace to provide her school fees.

'People dey do am' people around her said
Trying to goad her into sleeping around for money.

'We sef be Christian' they said
Using religion to veil the presence of Karma.

Despite all,
She clung on.

The world saw a dulling girl consigned to the realm of poverty and dismissal

Heavens saw her rich uncle in a distant having sleepless nights while getting the money to send to her.

Beloved Though tears may tarry, or the taste of bitterness lingers, hope is on the way. Never give up and never give in.
#BASHORUN

SAINT FRANCIS PRAYER
God, grant me strength to accept things I cannot change.

Leave hurtful relationships, wasting no physical and emotional energy trying to change them.

Recognise the futility of changing any individual's mind and character, simply by the amount of words we speak.
Rather, recognize that only God touches the heart of men and seek God's help always.

Accept all children's distinct characters and loving them nonetheless.

Spend no time listening to hateful remarks from people around,
Rather accept their status as spectators ever confined to watch us shine.

Engage in a mad dash to make wealth thus devising crooked means,
Instead of patiently building the capacity of making sustainable wealth.

Accept the existence of the seasons of plenty and lack,
Thus spending no time grumbling against God when things are not working fine.

Accept the permanence of temptations as challenges meant to usher us into greater heights in Christ.
Not, wasting time praying against the occurrence of temptations.

Accept that all the gifts that the devil offers, are Trojan horses.

Offering riches, in exchange for the soul, a far more valuable commodity.

Offering freedom from laws, thus setting a trap of habit and condemnation to a fatal end.

Offering children, disguised demons meant to destroy the glory of the family.

Finally, open our eyes to the understanding that the world is a marketplace, and after a period of time, an account of how we lived will be given.
#BASHORUN

GOD'S SOLDIER (AGAINST TERRORISM)

He was the chosen one.

He smiled,
Strapping the vest to his chest.

Bombs, were God's tool of love in converting the infidels.

*Be careful* he said.

Telling his comrade to firmly secure the metal lock covering his penis.

Woe unto him if he blew that part of his body up.
Al Jana will not be sweet then with the absence of his joystick.

Seventy virgins he had been told.

Waiting on him everyday with a fresh change the next day

*My God*... He echoed
Licking his lips

He had downloaded all porn videos he could find on earth.

Lord knows he would need the sex styles to satisfy the virgins

Yesss

He would be their lord and have them all beg at his feet

Excited by the thought, he felt a bulge down

Patience, patience. he thought

Blow up at least fifty infidels and recieve unlimited strength to keep at the sex.

*What else will heaven be like?* He tried to visualize

Seventy virgins!!!
Cable TV!!!
Viagra!!!


He could think of no more.
He needed no more.

His conscience tugged him.
Reminded him of the sanctity of life.

Surah Al-Baqarah [2:256].
His conscience said.

Shaitan came quickly

Dangling metal pictures the naked bodies of seventy virgins before his mind.

His conscience snuffed out,
He advanced to the site.

A mosque, the leaders had instructed him to blow up.

His conscience came one more time.

Why are you taking the lives of fellow Muslims.

Subtly reminding him to reflect on the teachings he had received.

Shaitan came again

That ancient foe who feeds religions with an overdose of emotions.

Thus dispensing away the need for sound thinking.

The soldier of God looked one more time and punched in the kill switch.

In a fraction of a second,

His eyes were opened.

'Near death experience' as some would call it.

The soldier saw Shaitan.

The devil laughing as he strode in graceful steps to claim his latest victim.

The soldier looked down to his pants

Alas!!
The metal lock had failed him and was shattering to a billion pieces

His eyes witnessed the scene of Abraham and his son
When to prove his devotion God Abraham almost sacrificed a son.

But his God stayed his hand, providing a sheep instead as an evidence, to prove the sanctity of human life.

The soldier saw his God last.

Visible facial features expressing disgust at him.

For a mere creation had tried to fight for His creator.

An infinite being had deemed himself stronger than his infinite creator.

The disgust turned into pity.

Pity that the deluded soldier was not the only one.

Pity that millions of His believers still followed their fellow humans without thinking.

Pity that they regarded logic as evil and embraced emotions as supreme means to know their God.

Pity that the soldier's reward was eternity with seventy vipers taking turns to inflict him with unimaginable pain
#BASHORUN