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Literature / Behold; Hope Comes by lalaponcus(m): 3:09pm On Aug 26, 2017
BEHOLD; HOPE COMES

All the people gathered
Around the dying man, they all hurdled.
The Medical examiner arrived just in time
Shaking his head sadly upon confirming the absence of a central pulse on palpation.
Mornfully offering his last respects as he confirmed the absence of heart sounds on auscultation.

After a close five minute observation to confirm his diagnosis, he declare the man dead based on confirmation that irreversible cardiorespiratory arrest has occurred.

The Medical examiner quickly placed a call to the coroner
All the while, calling the oldest man aside in order to break the sad news to him.

"Epa o. This man don kpai. Abeg you go find way to tell him wife"

Epa shook his head and a tear escaped from each eyelid.
He had experienced so much hurt, yet none weighed like this on him
For with his eyes, he withness the final passage of his only son into the afterlife.
For with his rheumatoid arthritis stricken joints, he had carried his twitching son to the local medical shelter.
For with his already failing eyes due to river blindness, he watched his son breathe his last.

Epa (old man) signed deeply and spoke up.

"Ma pikin. So you want make I tell him wife say nobody go dey to comfort am for night again? You want make I tell am say the fire of love wey dey shine for him eyes nor go dey again? You want make I tell am say her oyoyo di oma (fine husband) no go pass through their gate and carry him pikin again? With which mouth I wan use deliver that kain message?"

The Medical examiner remained silent while he pondered deeply.

He had seen depressing cases before;

Felt the cold skin upon the ribcage of still born children.
Seen old mothers breathe their last while their arms were up raised in thanks to God Almighty for a life well spent
Watched as the pulse rate, of accident victims, drop from 74 to 0 on the EKG machine
Taken part in the unsuccessful liver transplant of a prominent lawyer whose daughter was waiting and praying in the corridor of the hospital.

Yet, none of those cases touched him like the case of the young man he had just pronounced dead.

While the people began to murmur ceaselessly in foreknowledge of the man's death,
Someone came.

While the wife threw herself on the floor, headgear flung away, hair scattered and dress torn in anguish,
A man entered.

While the children of the diseased stood by, hands squeezing each other tightly and minds already getting weak due to realization that the uncles would take every away,
The hope entered.

While the local 'amebo' (talkertive) woman texted the news of the death on the church's watsapp page,
The king came

While a young man took pictures on his phone with a desire to paste it on Facebook in order to get a thousand likes and 'Amen's',
The savior entered.

"Arise"
The savior said.

An order that was met with jesting from the young men around
An order that was met with pity from the old women around.
For they thought that he was somehow related to the dead man and felt a deep grief.

"Arise"
The savior said again.
More firmly than the last time.

A firmness that caused the wailing wife to sit up.
A firmness that caused the downcast children to come further.
A firmness that caused the medical examiner to squint his eyes further.
For he thought he saw what appeared to be a slight moving of the hand of the dead man.

"Arise"
The savior said the third time.
An order which forced the man to jump up with a start.
An order which brought blissful chaos at the moment.

For the young men who had mocked, began to race away in all directions
For the old women who had pitied, began to hobble away with an unnatural speed despite their aged joints.
For the medical examiner fainted at once just like he had fainted when he had first seen the insides of a cadaver in University Anatomy class.

The hope had done what none could do.
The man called Jesus had resuscitated the man declared dead.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

Never lose hope
Don't you dare lose hope my friend
Poems For Review / Omo Ale Ni Otutu Yi (this Whether Is A Bastard) by lalaponcus(m): 9:32am On Aug 25, 2017
OMO ALE NI OTUTU YI (THIS WHETHER IS A BASTARD)

Ara mi
Permit me to be naughty a little.
For what is life without the 'crazy' to spice up the normal.
For the presence of the Songs of Solomon helps to spice up the ancient word.

Maami, permit me to roll my pen on the raining sheets just like the child rolls his tyre in the raining day.
For I have a tale to tell.
A tale of my intense hatred for these morning rainy whether.

Laaro kutu Hai ni ojo yi bere.
The rain started very early in the morning.
Staying true to its Benin origins, it came without any warnings and mercilessly fell without pity.

While feeling sleepy, I fetched my wrapper which had been gotten from Onitsha,
Slid myself deeper into blanket which had helped me overcome numerous battles against those feelings.
And propped the pillow over my head to help me balance fully.
At last, I was fully prepared to sleep through the whether.

Ni kini yi bade
Then this feeling came.

That hotness one feels even though one is freezing within, came
And my body began to shift uneasily on the bed like a poor man who has just collected a 350 million lotto prize money and plans to take it to the bank the next day.
Lord knows that night would be the longest in the man's life
For his eyes would keep darting from the wall clock to his money and then to the door.

Hehehehehe
That man's lips would recite Psalm 91 so much that his wife would kick him in the legs in order to shut him up.


That overwhelming feeling to have iya Atinuke by my side, came so quickly.
Leaving me with a deep desire to play love like the Hollywood films do.
With the man getting a vase of red roses for his Iyawo (wife) before lifting her up suddenly and placing a kiss on her lips.
Surely that is far better than Nollywood films where the husband gives the wife 500 naira for soup, calls her 'Lolo'm', flashes the widest grin ever and immediately carries her to go and make baby number six.

A love like Hollywood's.
Where the husband takes the woman to the highest parts of the Eiffel tower, or ascend into the Australian skies with an hot air balloon while smiling and holding each others fingers.
Surely that is far better than Nollywood love where the husband takes the wife to the local mama Risi canteen where they both devour the amala without bothering to feed each other small chunks,
Or takes her to the boutique where she keeps on shopping and draining the atm of resources while the man feigns a smile outwardly, and weeps bitterly inside.

Kaii

What could I do to overcome that feeling?
I took up the bible.
Absent-mindedly flipping it to any chapter
The page I fell upon was 432, the book being Songs of Solomon, chapter 1 verse 2.

Iro oo (Na lie o).
Se bibeli mi lo so bayi abi oju n dun mi.
Could it be that I was seeing double or had my bible been switched by the devil while I slept.
Afterall, bible said that the enemy came to sow tares while the people slept.

I quickly closed the creator's manual and ran to the bathroom.
Quickly dousing myself with the water which had immensely cooled overnight.

The water did not do anything.
As the feeling resisted it like Alanipamolekun's body, the seasoned 'arrmi roba' (armed robber), resists the ordinary bullets of any policeman.

Much worse, it returned with full ferocity like an enraged bull which sees a matador that had killed her only child.
It returned like that nasty itch from 'werepe' (devils weed) which temporally fades away from the palm when scratched vigorously and then furiously begin to itch under the armpit.

Seeing that the water held no succor, I left the bathroom and went directly to my reading table.

Picking up a calculator and a sheet of paper, I set out to draft out a quick calculation of wedding expenses and the cost to feed little Atinuke when she comes nine months later.
For I was desperate to just marry anyhow and banish that feeling into the abyss.
For I was fully ready to be an 'okunrin' (man) and jump that Rubicon ledge with Love as my glider and Iya Atinuke as my seat mate.

Money for wedding venue -300k
Money for Iya Tawa's special buffet with Amala, Fufu, Semo, Wheat, ewedu, ila (okro), obe Ata (stew), egusi and Banga - 200k
Money for Iyawo's diamond studded ring and gown -- 350k
Money to take care of umu-Ada who were surely coming from my village- 150k
Money for drinks from oga Jamiu's store- 200k

Money for Cerelac big tin- 5k
Money for pampers for a full month- 20k
Money for music school during the mid-term break- 30k
School fees-

Arrrgrrhhh
My feeling had run away at this time like a local dog that stops barking after hearing the sound of a real gun.

Oro awada ko (this is not play)

Like a night guard, with a touch-light serving as a weapon, who mistakenly walks into a meeting of thieves wielding AK -47s, my feelings 'jejely' respected itself and walked away while whistling slowly.

With each figure I wrote, it receded into its shell while a splitting headache began to arise.
For the calculations were already exceeding 2 million naira, while my bank account sat down beside me, laughing wildly and holding it's side.

Beeni o.
I wanted to make that giant leap into becoming an okunrin (man) with only 2,750 naira in my bank account.

Thankfully.
I have gotten the cure for that feeling.

Beeni.
I have discovered the Kryptonite that weakens it's superhuman nature;
Discovered the little mutant child that renders it's powers useless.
Discovered the Delilah that can subtly sap away all its strength.
Discovered the Helen that can swiftly condemn it to a quick end like Troy.
Discovered the Drake verse that could end it's Meek Mill-like flexing and pride.

Beeni.
That figure on my account balance would always do the trick.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

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Literature / Last Day Of The Term (bashorun Childhood Memories) by lalaponcus(m): 10:09am On Aug 24, 2017
LAST DAY OF THE TERM (Bashorun childhood memories)

This piece is dedicated to Mrs. Popoola, the bestest teacher and the most loved Headmistress.

Mummy o.
Thank you for being a wonderful administrator.
Thank you for being an excellent mother to three geniuses, one of which I was unable to displace displace despite my best efforts.
For I will never forget that prize-giving day when Funmilayo blazed the trail with 7 'best student in' while I followed suit with only 5.

Mommy o.
God bless you ma
_________________

"Holiday is coming.
Holiday is coming.
No more morning bells.
No more teachers beat
Teachers goodbye, students goodbye
As I want to spend a jolly Ho-li-day; A jolly Ho-li-day."

This is not a song raised by a comedian who tries to run down his time because his jokes are empty.
Neither is the humming of a mechanic who is working on the engine of a car while his back is against the ground.

This was a song being raised by a set of pupils whose joy was unmeasurable at the time.

This was a song that was being sang by excited pupils donning white and orange check shirts and green shorts.

A rare end of the term song being sung at the top of their lungs, while the teachers also swayed their heads to the beat.

Who could blame the children for being so excited?

Apparently, for the next three to seven weeks, as the terms differed, they would avoid Mr. Alli's best friend who always tagged along with him during mathematics class and never failed to leave his table.

That friend of his was his beloved cane, a smooth and finely straight dongoyaro stick that always helped to restrain the devils that wanted to manifest themselves in the children.

That friend of his also had a twin brother which resided within daddy's room,
The twin brothers name was 'Bulala', and it was majorly used to install every alphabet software into the operating system of every child in every 'ile-keu' (koranic school).

Apparently for the next three to four days, mothers would not wake their children early in the morning.
And the children would be given the opportunity to fully complete all the dreams which they had left unfinished during the school term.

Akeem Olatinwo, dreaming that he was Samurai Jack, would finally have the opportunity to kill the evil Aku once and for all.

Olumide Bankole, dreaming he was in USA, would finally get to visit Barney and hug the big, cuddly teddy bear.

Little Kosi, dreaming that he was Dagunro, would finally get to unleash hell upon foes such as Agbako, Larude and Fadeyi Oloro.

Much more,
He, acting as Abija, would be able to save any king from any koto Aye (pit of evil)
For he planned to unleash a string of incantations that would even make Orunmila and Sango cringe in fear when they see me.

All these children would be spared from waking up very early for the first three days, and would be woken earlier when they begin to attend holiday lessons later
____________

The teachers had also been praying for that time to come.

Who could blame them?

Apparently they too had become tired of formating the memory cards of the children's heads everyday, while the child returns the next morning with the same virus installed the next day.

Beeni

No matter how much Mr. Edetan served Charles a daily dosage of Akara (Mr. Edetan's favorite word for cane), the little boy would return the next morning and still begin to soil his uniform with dirt.

No matter how much little Kosi was warned off playing with 'iso' (nail) during breaktime, he would not stop.
For he was not able to break into the football teams, and the girls also did not like to play 'tete', 'koso', 'tinko-tinko' or 'who is in the garden' with him because he was always prone to cheating.

No matter how much Mr. Alonge peppered Rofiat and Olaitan's backs with the cane, the little girls would never stop talking in class.

Those two were uniquely adept at the art of gossip.

No boy could escape the wrath of their tongues,
For they were no nonsense girls who had learnt to respond to fire with fire of their own.

No girl could withstand the onslaught of their jesting,
For they always reserved their choicest taunts for the girls who boys flocked around more in class

No subject was a forbidden topic for the girls.
As they would keep on whispering, giggling and then feign severe headache whenever the teacher sets a test in the class.


The holidays would also bring new jobs for the teachers.

Mr. Alonge would be able to focus more on teaching at the holiday lessons organized by the popular Mustapha.
Mr. Alli would be able to around to attend to his poultry and take more care of his snails.
Iya Bashorun would have more opportunities to focus on her Turkey business and also put more effort in her masters program which was slacking a bit.

Indeed, thoughts about the coming holidays brought great joy to the pupils and teachers.

_____________

"Good morning Pupils. Let us thank God for the ending to another successful term."
So said the headmistress, Mrs. Popoola as she bowed her head and expected us to do the same in reverence to God.

All the teachers bowed their heads and gave thanks.

While most of the pupils blankly stared at the headmistress.
For Fear and uncertainty was ravaging their little minds.

"What position will aunty give me this term?"
'Will uncle Opeyemi pass me in Mathematics?"
Will I still retain the best in french language this term?"

These were the questions that were being brood upon by the students.

"Mummy will buy me new Kito if I pass"
"Daddy will beat me very well if I come last again"
"Pastor will bathe me with anointing oil if I fail CRK again"
"Mommy would force me to enroll in koranic school if I fail IRS again"

These were the concluding anwers to the questions that the pupils arrived at while the headmistress was still silently praying.

"I pray that God shall answer all our prayers in Jesus name"
The headmistress said as she slowly raised her head and look at the pupils through her ever clear spectacles.

"AMEEEN"
The pupils echoed back.

"Good morning once again to our teachers and pupils. We thank God for the successful completion of another term. As you students go to your classes to recieve your report cards, make sure you remain very calm and obedient. You must also make sure that you show your report card to your parents because I have heard reports that some of you do not show your report cards to your parents."

At the last statement, Ige and Azeez chuckled under their breath and stole a grin at each other.
For they were the prime culprits in that act.

Who could blame them?

Apparently mama and baba Agba, who were their guardians, could not read and it was futile to show them the report cards.

Apparently the teachers blue pen was always shy to visit their report cards while the red pen was a regular visitor that slept over at the boxes next to the subject.

To be continued in later posts
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com
Poems For Review / Behold; He Comes by lalaponcus(m): 5:35pm On Aug 23, 2017
BEHOLD; HE COMES
(Double delight Wednesday)

On a stead of holiness he rides.
A messiah fully ready to save his chosen few.

On a path filled with golden tar, He treds
Glory dispersing at every trot.

Through the thickets of lost hope, He bursts through
Bits of decimated hope steadily forming together

Through the fog of uncertainty, he emerges.
Every sound resounding like a loud bell, to rouse the weakened spirits of His beloved.

To every farmer with backs bent while tilling the ground for riches: BEHOLD
To every 'omoge' (young maiden) quietly humming the lost songs of old while the hairdresser performs her craft; BEHOLD.
To every stressed out 'Bobo' who is presently wiling away time by surfing at the office; BEHOLD
To every wife scrolling down the group chat while waiting patiently for the soup to quickly thicken so that she can return to the Telemundo; BEHOLD.
To every little one scribbling four letter words on the side glass of a wet car while the dad is honking at thinking of how to quickly make it home just in time to watch the Liverpool vs. Hoffeiham champions League match; BEHOLD
To the frantic looking bride to be who is currently sweating out how to put everything in order for the big event holding on Saturday; BEHOLD
To the tired photographer currently eating gala and taking huge sips from the la Casera can while waiting for the wailing child to be comforted in order for the picture to be taken; BEHOLD

Behold all, for your Savior is coming.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com
Literature / Destination: Off Course by lalaponcus(m): 10:56am On Aug 23, 2017
DESTINATION: OFF COURSE

I embraced my demons last week.
Came to halting stop right in the middle of the race and just caressed the lustful one that followed at my heel.
The smell of the intoxicating drink forced me to apply a screeching break
A break that was followed by a mad dash into the tarvern to sit at my former table once more.
A break that was accompanied by a dizzying dash to the mall of sin once
Upon reaching, I filled my cart with all merchandise of death whose expiry dates were very close.

Into the row of fornication, I pushed my trolley with my heart beating at an unusual rate.
Engaging in a quick routine of five breathe-ins and five breathe-outs, I calmed my heart a little.
While I pushed with my left hand, my right hand picked the merchandise.

The gesha of five-minutes sex with the fair Vanessa, I picked.
The cornflakes of viagra induced one hour sex with Titi the instagram slay mama, I picked quickly.

Then, I left and veered into the row of lies.
The indomie packs of bus lies, I picked.
For bus lies are the easiest and fastest to prepare.
Then I picked the custard of church lies.
For this helped me to prepar such a wondrous lie that was thick in content and totally fooled the pastor.

Then I mistakenly picked up the cerelac of office lies.
For I unsuccessful tried to hoodwink my boss into signing some unworthy check
A ruse that brought a response of stern reprove and loss of trust.

While I shopped, the mall management increased the volume of the radio which blared lewd lyrics
An increase in volume that blurred out the tiny words of knowledge coming out from my earpiece.

Then, in, came my Jesus to save me
Dressed in a janitor's outfit.
He quickly raced towards my location and stopped me right in my tracks.

With the words, "I STILL BELIEVE IN YOU" emblazoned in bright colors across His shirt, He beckoned on me.

My heart sank when I saw Him.

My feet shook in trepidation as my dull senses cleared and I realized where I was.
My lips quivered with unexplainable emotions wishing to burst out at that moment.


How could He still love me so much when I failed to keep up the pace?

How could He still place much so much value on me as opposed to humans who would have dumped me since.
For I knew that the church would have branded me a rogue and stripped me of every role.
For I knew that my darling wife would have filed in for divorce papers at the earliest time]
For I knew that my boss would have thrown me under the bus of unemployment and rode over me till I became a squatter under the bridge.

Indeed
Men would have done all that
But my Jesus still places value in me
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

Ìrínisí ni ìsọnilọ́jọ̀ / Good appearance makes for a good impression.
Poems For Review / Opomulero (pillar) by lalaponcus(m): 9:32am On Aug 22, 2017
OPOMULERO (PILLAR)

Mi o ni oke sanmo bi kii se iwo
Ajanaku gidi ko no oke sanmo miran bi kii se

We both dressed for battle.
Putting on the war regalia that had faded from numerous battles fought;
Putting the 'etu' gunpowder into the gun while hoping it would not cease to shoot in the midst of battle;
For a weapon like that, which had not been properly oiled, could fail the user in battle.

The other warrior prepared more than me.

He gingerly placed a live tortoise around his neck.
A weapon that ensured that the bullets of the enemy bounced off his chest like the blows of Rey Mysterio bounces off the chests of the great Khali.

He also swallowed two tiny gourds without wincing.
A weapon which he fully intended to unleash fire upon any unfortunate man that crossed his path in battle.
For his patron god, Sango, was the keeper of gourds.

He also quickly killed the oka 'cobra' that was nearby.
Violent twisting its neck with his bare hands and later extracting its venom.
A liquid, he licked three times while maintaining a straight face.
The venom was to serve the purpose of command.
As he would be able to command any opposing 'omo ogun' (man of war) to shoot himself or go down like the stocks of Barcelona will if they dare to sell Messi.
The venom was from his patron goddess, Oya, the goddess of deception.

The warrior also hit his pregnant wife with a deadly charm and slaughtered her.
Maintaining an indifferent look as he removed her half formed fetus with his bare hands.
An act which showed that he had personally pounded his conscience and thrown away the remains in the deepest part of the sea.

He prepared the fetus into a sacrificial meal for Esu odara
Esu, the black statue in the center of his shrine, accepted the meal and filled a calabash nearby with a black paste.
A paste which the warrior rubbed on his 'opa ase' staff of authority before heading into battle.
A staff which would provide a quick transport to the afterlife to everyone the warrior hits.

Ah!
The warrior was fully ready for battle.
I, on the other hand, placed my safety in a man called Jesus.

We met in the battle that afternoon.

Myself sweating and breathing heavily from much strenght alereadt expended during the battle.
Himself merely swaggered leisurely towards me for he had encountered no real challenge.

"Ile agboko yeri alapo ika. Iwo ni mo pe. Wa je mi loni"
The warrior said as he invoked the ground to open up and swallow the man that dared to 'gbe ija wo ile ekun' (take the fight into a lion's den).

"Lakaye osinmole, olo mi ni le, o tun fi eje we, wa da mi lohun ni oni"
The warrior said as he fired his gun twice in quick succession to take down the man that had dared to bring an ordinary catapult into a fight of AK -47s.

"Laalu ogiri oko, abaniworan ba rida, olokiki oru, eniyan sun ekun, laroye n sun eje. Wa je mi ni ipe loni o"
The warrior said as he hit me with his opa ase.
Hoping to quickly dispatch the duck which had dared to step forward when Edumare asked for animals with the fiercest teeth.

I slowly fell as the wave of the spells hit me.
For sudden invincible hands hoisted me with the intent of smashing me to the ground.

A wicked smile spread across the warrior's face
For he thought that he had me.

Alas.
A cog appeared in his wheel for the first time ever.
A greater power met his blows with a ferocity that shocked the warrior.

Beeni
My Jesus helped me stand and overcome everything that the warrior flung at me.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

Mbe si na ibu bụ nke ya, ya mere o ji kwọrọ ya na-azụ
– The tortoise says that the luggage belongs to him that
is why he caries it on his back.
Poems For Review / Obekisi Bekese (twins) by lalaponcus(m): 10:40am On Aug 21, 2017
OBEKISI BEKESE (TWINS)
Dedicated to Taiye and Kehinde Fadairo.

Tani ko feran ibeji?
Who is not amazed at these unique bundles of joy made by Edumare?

Taye ati Kehinde
Two giants whose birth throes causes a tremor in the earth
Two aremo whose cries form the bata beat upon which the heavenly choir sing their Orin iyin (songs of praise)
Two ajanaku's who mi the igbo (shook the forest) within their mother and shake the world outside with their joint brilliance.

Taiye lolu;
The little warrior who goes forth to spy the outside world.
Bravely donning his kembe (war cloth) and sticking out his head to check if the coast is good;
Bravely uttering loud cries in order to fully announce the coming of an 'akonni' (strong man)
For a king is never received in silence,
Neither are the dane guns silent at the entrance of an Are-ona-kakanfo.

A Kehinde je egbon;
The second 'akonni' (warrior) who is not second in authority.
For he is the one who gives Taiye the order to go and spy.

AKehinde, koredele.

The little 'arugba' whose calabash contains great blessings for the family.
The richly arrayed little one who comes to discard the rags of his parents.
The strong hearted one that refused to cry until iya Agba smacked him with her bony frail palm.


Tani ko feran awon iranse edumare?
Who dares reject these riches gift wrapped in mortal flesh?

Much more than a bag of cowries, is their worth
Much more than a cauldron of honey, is their sweetness.
More more than an enraged horde of Siberian Tigers, is their ferocity.
Much more than the degrees of a thermometer, is their propensity to succeed

Much more than a billion dollars, is the gift of ibeji to any parent.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

Ẹ̀jìrẹ́ ará ìṣokún.
Ẹdúnjobí
Ọmọ ẹdun tíí ṣeré orí igi
Ọ́-bẹ́-kẹ́ṣé-bẹ́-kàṣà,
Ó fẹsẹ̀ méjèèjì bẹ sílé alákìísa;
Ó salákìísà donígba aṣọ.
Gbajúmọ̀ ọmọ tíí gbàkúnlẹ̀ ìyá,
Tíí gbàdọ̀bálẹ̀ lọ́wọ́ baba tó bí í lọ́mọ.
Wínrinwínrin lójú orogún
Ejìwọ̀rọ̀ lojú ìyá ẹ̀.
Tani o bi ibeji ko n'owo?
Poems For Review / Atinuke Mi by lalaponcus(m): 9:00am On Aug 19, 2017
ATINUKE MI

My heart longs;

To hold my little girl in my hands.
To fit her perfectly into one hand while placing her feeder in her mouth with the other.

To say 'abutu butu papa ya' and watch her blurt out a giggle even though I have absolutely no idea of the sentence I said.

To watch her wrap her five tiny fingers around my index finger.
To watch her try to bite my thumb with her toothless gum while I feign a painful look like papa Lion does.

To wrap her firmly across my back with her mother's blue-coloured 'aso ofi' wrapper while I jokingly promise to undo the love portion that her mother had prepared for me.

To watch her attempt to lick every scoop of ice-cream in the mall, and also attempt to give out presents to every child in the orphanage home.

I long to see her rise, attempting to touch the top of her little crib and walk the length of her pink-painted nursery.

To see her little face recoil in disgust when I try to feed her her vegetables while she longs for her sugar-filled diet again.

To watch her try to beat daddy in a singing competition being held in front of mommy's makeup mirror.
All the while urging mommy to be quick in getting dressed so that we would not arrive late in church

To watch her throw a mini tantrum when the red-haired feeling of me pushes my button and forces me to put my foot down concerning an issue.
Then later, I long to walk gingerly to her room, enter with a sorry look on my face and a plate of jollof rice as a peace offering to cool her anger.

I long to take her on those walks to the park.
My left hand firmy steering the leash of my loyal doberman and pitbull;
My right hand gently nudging her stroller forward
My mouth humming Sinach's 'We are a chosen ge-ne-ra-tioon, called forth...' under my breath;
And my head, thinking of the best lingerie that would fit Iyawo at home in order to stoke the flames of love anew

To wake up in the morning, get down on both knees with one hand touching Iyawo and another touching the legs of my little girl
All the while dedicating them to the only one who can keep anyone.
All the while declaring that their paths would be much more smoother than yesterday's.

Beeni.
Atinuke omo mi.
Daddy longs to do all these.
But first, he must grind his butt off to establish something for you.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com


Tí a bá wo dídùn ifọ̀n, àá họ ara dé egun / If a person gives in to guilty pleasure, they will lose themselves in it.
Politics / Gestapo by lalaponcus(m): 10:38am On Aug 18, 2017
THE GESTAPO

From their hideout, they espied the building.

Watching as the man daily kissed his wife while hurrying to grind his daily hustle

Watching as the wife hurriedly packs the kids Cereos into their lunch box along with their frozen yogurt specially ordered from Australia.

The stomach of second-in-command of the watchers grumbled loudly.
As it had been forced to make do with 2 cups of garri and groundnut- all borrowed from the mallam's store.

The man smiled mischievously and tried to pacify his stomach.
Promising it a full pack of yogurt immediately the team forces their entrance into the home they had been observing for a long time.

From their hideout, they crafted plans.
Backs bent over sheets of paper which strategies were drawn upon.
Eyes sore from looking too closely at the exit plans because the room was a dimly lit one.

They waited patiently.
Awaiting orders from the oga at the top which would kickstart their covert operation.

Awaiting to engage in the 'smash and grab' style of arrest which had so much served them in the time past and had enabled them overcome the judicial process which acted as a bottleneck to their plans.

Awaiting to whisk the suspect away into dark rooms where a single florescent light would withness the gradual snuffing out of the inner light of the room's occupant.

Those rooms where statements were coaxed out of the suspects with multiple blows to the face that disconnected the jaw.

Those rooms where the fire of every man was cooled by the act of pouring ice water on his naked body while he is strapped to an iron bunk.

Those rooms where the security man, donning a mufti garb and having gotten only a Primary school leaving certificate, can feel like he is the most high.

For no one would challenge him if he decided to squeeze the suspects nipples with a plier
And no one would dare stop him if he decided to taunt the suspect by painting a gory picture of him raping his wife.

Aye

Within the walls of his personal home, he is a dog who whimpers and cowers every time his wife shouts at him.
Within the church walls, he was 'that man that could not even hurt a fly and always gave the little he had to the needy'
But within those dimly lit walls, he was the Alpha and Omega who could waste any suspects life while claiming accidental discharge as the cause.

My country tumbles.
Into the dark tunnels of autocracy, it flings its burly weight.
Into the deep gorges of dictatorship, it begins to fall.

The citizenry mutely watch from afar.

Lulled by many lullabies being sang at the top offices and blared at all public places.

For we are being told to keep calm while being forcefed with the gruel of pain.
For we are being told to seal our mouths and conscience while being stabbed with the dagger of campaign betrayals.
For we are being to smile and pray for the change to quickly establish itself while the worms gnaw daily at our innards.
For we are being told to be patient while they battle the hydra headed beast called corruption

Alas!
We have not yet recognized that the soldiers have already been swallowed up by the enemy.

And, for the few who have recognized this fact, the Gestapo lies and lurks.

Awaiting orders from oga at the top to whisk them into those rooms.
Those rooms where the security guy awaits with a toothpick stuck between his teeth and a full day's ration of eba nestling within,
Awaiting to play God once again
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

This is not meant to sway anyone to any political side. Rather, it is meant to open the eyes of the citizenry to the present wrongs of the system.
Poems For Review / The Ways Of The Awo by lalaponcus(m): 10:48am On Aug 15, 2017
THE WAYS OF THE AWO

Tani o mo ona awo?

Who can know the paths thqat are tred by the white clad initiates.
Who, with the gift of the odu, can fully decipher the right footprints among any distorted mess.

Can you tell what invincible features they see when they correctly pick out a grief-striken woman from a marketplace of insane 'bugi-je' women.

Ona awo soro di e.
(Their ways are a bit difficult)
As they do not become awo (wise) by accident.

With an iron rod, the master called 'experience' made their ways straight.

With a goblet filled with gall, discipline welcomed them to his home.

With a thin thread of books, placed on the wet grass in the maze, acting as a guide, they charted the course towards discovering treasure chest of knowledge.

With the keys of patience, they unlocked the 'tokoz-like' padlocks of the chest to uncover its contents.

With the life jacket of humility, they avoided drowning in the lake of pride.

And with the flare of counsel, they escaped being stranded on the island of unwise decisions.

Suu re tete wa papo pelu wa.
(Come quick to join us)

The initiates shout to the young.

Ready your hide for the whippings of setback and ready your mind to glide through short victories without stopping to revel long in them.
For the way of the awo is not like a child's.

Incline your ears to recognize the siren of rebuke and firmly fix your eyes on the teacher's ways.
Take heed to take your reasoning and conscience everytime you go in search of treasure.
For money is a means to an end and not the end itself.

Edumare is the ultimate end, little ones.
The great One every Awo (wise) and Opele (novince) will give an account of their lives to.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

A kpara akwụ kpara akwụ, Ewere nkata jee, ọ bụrụ
oshi.
– It is okay to help ones self with a few palm nuts, but
when you go gathering with a basket, it becomes
stealing.

1 Like 1 Share

Poems For Review / Lullaby by lalaponcus(m): 11:38am On Aug 14, 2017
LULLABY


The headphones lodged within the soft part of his ears.
From its holes emerged the lady that took a trip to the brain and heart.
With her was a wooden flute which she gingerly placed on her lips and played
Spurting and regurgitating lewd images at every sound.

With a necromancer's touch, the tone revived the dead man.
And with a fireman's touch, the tone unscrewed the stopper holding back the muddled flow of thoughts
Wild ferns littering the feeding troughs

A lullaby she sang.
A rabbi of the forgotten way, she was
A tone which gently stilled the alarm bells that rang.
A piece of cloth that slowly covered the rays of the light which gleamed.
An intoxicating substance which obscured the view of the advancing fang
A firm and subtle hand tiptoeing with an intent drag away from the congregation of the redeemed.
A temporal meal it offered to quench the eternal pang.

Lullabies they are.
Every ad preaching the total ability of man.
Every kid flashing wads of Benjamins without having no clear purpose to life.
Every pulpit solely dedicated to earthly enrichment.
Every act and pursuit focused on generating envy and defeat to perceived black ensemble wearing long nailed old women.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com
A child without parents to counsel him- what is to prevent him from mistaking foreign shit for a delicious national dish?
Ngugi wa Thiong' o
Poems For Review / NOSTALGIA 2.0 by lalaponcus(m): 9:07am On Aug 11, 2017
NOSTALGIA 2.0

Continued from yesterday's post.
_______________

I miss the good old days.

Sunday morning moments when I would drench my flowery Tshirt in daddy's perfume with the sole interest of impressing the teenage girls at RCCG Cornerstone parish.
Offering little smiles while sitting at the back of the class with Wale, Kunle, Ayo Kataina and Olumide Bankole.
A group of five boys who the messages centered on Holiness never seemed to penetrate their thick heads.
For those heads were always scheming, always picking and always crafting the best opening lines that would bring down the 'Jericho-like' defenses of each girl.
Maybe I should thank God that most of our efforts were in vain.
For such failed attempts steered us away from eating the forbidden fruit which is meant for only couples.

I miss the good old days.

Moments I would trash, kick and scream all the way to school at my first years in Ijagbo and Maranata nursery.
Then later settling down to the enjoyable class session of; 'A for Apple, B for Boli, sorry Ball, C for Cat, D for Davido, sorry Dog (lord knows the music industry was still sane at this time)'

Aye.

Those class sessions were so enjoyable that I would be reluctant to leave the class when mama indicated that it was time to leave.

Thank God for those moments.
For it was a major lession that unsavory beginnings may later yield to great endings.

I miss the good old days.

Moments when all students would line up class by class on the assembly ground;

Primary 5A boys taunting primary 5B boys about the defeat they experienced in a football match the day before;

Mr. Alli, Mr. Alonge and Mr. Edetan at the corner discussing about the latest regulations which Union Bank Ibolo was putting them through in order to collect their salaries;

Mrs. Egunjobi, Mummy French, Mummy Ilori (mother to the beautiful Fade who had to be forced to eat meat in class) all standing with canes in their hands, and discussing the best Aso oke to be worn to the 'ikomo' (naming ceremony) of Mr. Opeyemi's child;

The headmaster, Mr. Asiedu and headmistress, Mrs. Popoola both standing in front of the students, and teaching them values of neatness, brushing of teeth and reading of books;

The children would be shouting on top of their lungs while singing, 'We are H-A-P-P-Y 2x', 'Mr Marcaroni riding on a bicycle, if you want to marry me, Mr Marcaroni', and 'Wherever you go (go go gon go) wherever you be (sisi eko) you don't say yes when you mean to say no (Baba Ibadan!)'

Arrrgrrhhh
Thank God for those moments.
For, imbued within them were seeds of comradeship and love which have lasted through the years.

I miss the good old days.

'Igbà Awe (time of Ramadan) early mornings when the sound of pounding would be heard from Alhaji Oyinlola's storey building.

A pounding of 'iyan' which would be accompanied by the hunger inducing wonderful smell that originated from Alhaja's pot of egusi.

I also miss the 'igba ileya (ileya sallah period).

When uncle Mojeed and uncle Shehu would drag the unwilling agbo (ram) to the backyard, slaughter it and put it fire to remove the hair like feathers being removed from a chicken.

Then, my favourite crew of Aunty Fehintola, aunty Ramat and Alhaja would take over.
Frying the boiled huge chunks of meat in the sizzling hot oil and over the firewood which burned out quickly.

Then my eyes would behold the same film scene that brought great joy to my heart every year;

Alhaja moving gingerly; step by step; adjusting her shawl with her left hand while carrying a huge cooler on her right; knocking 'ko ko ko' at our iron door; gently shouting 'Halo o, alaafia fun on ile o'; mummy coming out with a kitchen spoon in her hand and flashing a perfect set of teeth; mummy replying 'alaafia fun alejo o'; mummy collecting the cooler with a big smile; mummy COLLECTING the cooler with a big smile (for emphasis sake); mummy saying 'Barka de sallah, opolopo odun ni a ma se o; Alhaja retreating while telling mommy to greet Doctor, my dad; mummy dropping the cooler on the dining table while returning to the kitchen; and then me tiptoeing to the cooler to remove one fried meat to taste.

Thank God for those moments.
For they were the times which united all humans into a family even though we worshipped differently.
Those unique moments when all that mattered was the fact that you were celebrating good life and health with your neighbor.

Now the tables seem to have turned,
As some con men mascurading as pastors and charlatans mascurading as imam now preach that adherents of both religions should not even sit at the same place.

A message of hate which tears our world apart and transforms the hearers into loveless beasts who are constantly self seeking.

To be continued at another season
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

Ugo chara acha adịghị echu echu.
– A mature eagle never fades
Poems For Review / Yejide by lalaponcus(m): 8:12am On Aug 11, 2017
YEJIDE

Eyin temi

Out of a momentary impulse, I made a promise to someone.

A promise that now seems like the Sisphus task;

For the more I try to describe her, the more the boulder of explanation keeps rolling down;

For the more my pen tries to conjure up her beauty on paper, the more it comes up short in efficiency like Ron Weasley's broken wand in Harry Potter.

"MORE!!" My mind screams;
Angry at my weak visualizations of her beauty.

"MORE!!" The creator thunders.
Sorely disappointed at my finished product despite having warned me not to pick up the gauntlet of describing His beloved child.

Edumare's creations are unique abeg.
But Yejide is much more.

Yejide's face is like the early morning sun rays
A warm vital light which replaces the dark night.

She is like the 'okin'
An elegant arewa whose being radiates a combining light of rare diamonds.
Her heart is as strong as ten thousand mama bears protecting their young.
Her glory is as blazing as the combined light emanating from ten thousand gas plants.

Her face is as clear as the crystal and an undisturbed morning stream,
Much smoother than a finely sawed ebony wood at a master carpenter's workshop,
Much resistant to flaws like a door doused in chemicals that repulses every termite from a mile away.

Mo re ile Osun (I went into Osun's groove)
Dove into the depths of the sea to search out treasure which could rival Yejide's glow.
With her three pronged pitchfork that resembled Poseidon's trident, Yemoja the goddess drove me away.
For I had wanted to use a river treasure to compare to the apple of Edumare's eyes.

Mo re ile Oya (I went into Oya's groove)
Placed my fingers together in supplication for her to show me the charm that she used to keep Sango the thunder god spellbound.
Perhaps that charm could un-bind me from the charm wielded by Yejide.

With a whip fashioned out of twisted bulrushes which bore semblance to Aphrodite's rod, Oya the goddess drove me away.
For I had dared to elevate her charms to that of Olodumare
The 'akoda ati aseda' that had imbued Yejide with too much sauce and 'atarodo' (pepper) that even forced the Chairlady of Pepper dem gang to immediately cede her position to Yejide upon seeing her.

Yejide
Omo re bi iyan
Omo Egbedire Akonni okunrin mefa.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

This is a dedication to my secondary school crush who still amazes me.
Literature / Nostalgia by lalaponcus(m): 9:22am On Aug 10, 2017
NOSTALGIA

I miss the good old days.

Moments when I would rush to play ball at the mini Iyeru okin pitch with Olumide Bankole and get a big bruise as compensation for my efforts.
Then returning home to a loving mother who would offer a rebuke for my head and TCP or iodine for my bruise.
Thank God those bruises have turned to lesson laden scars.

I miss the good old days

Golden moments when I would eat pounded yam at Akeem Olatinwo's house and make use of good bushmeat to wash down the semovita eaten at Mustapha Afeez's place.
All the while defying the order of my loving mom who had insisted that I stopped eating out at other people's houses.
Thank God that I did eat out.
For the word 'friendship' connotes an element of trust and an expression of freedom.
Afterall, the good proverb had said 'Kokoro ti n je efo, inu efo lo wa' (the insect that eats the leaf is inside the leaf)
And 'ile ni aseni ngbe'(the culprit resides within)
Two proverbs that show that even ones family members may be the ones trying to bring down an individual.

I miss the good old days.

Moments I would fidget so much while waiting for my date, Popoola Funmi to come to Mr Biggs Offa branch.
All the while having the sum of nine hundred naira in my pockets, a text message pamphlet (which had Omotola Jolade and Genevieve Nnaji's pictures on it) which I had already vigorously read the love messages in other to lay down my game, and a wonderful smell emanating from my shirt which had been drenched with mommy's perfume which she specially reserved for church.
Thank God that I did take her out.
For her polite decline of my love proposal taught me that life was not always sweet, and that girls would always eat that free meal even though they know that the offer would be declined.

I miss the good old days.

Golden moments in class where five teachers and all the class children would gather around an exicted child who was stretching forth her/his hand to cut a birthday cake.

Oyinlola Alawaye's birthdays were the best.

As the rolls of buns, biscuits, sweets and a little portion of cake would make their way towards every child and I would snatch Kehinde Adio's portion and run away.
Thank God for such birthdays.
As they were a timely reminder of the reason why we needed to number our days, apply our mouths to thanks, and our hearts to wisdom.

I miss the old days

Moments when I would trek great lenghts across the roads and the railway tracks just to go and play the game of football on the Sega which was within Emmanuel Oni's home.
Running away from their vicious dog during the first ten minutes of arrival, while laughing hysterically during the next hour as the commentators 'RESHOOT; GOL" kept reflecting the fact that I could never beat the duo brothers, Faith and Emma, in any game.

Thank God for such moments.
As lifelong friendships are forged over such banters and lifelong lessons on love are taught in such seemingly insignificant moments.

I remember the good old days.

Moments when mumsi and I would attend elaborate weddings and I would not be allowed to taste any meal.
Instead, such packaged jollof rice would find their way into the fridge and on the third day, would be surveyed if it had turned black or transformed into any human part.
For nollywood movies and church testimonies had taught us that poisons disguised as jollof rice would transform into a dark substance at the third day.

Beeni.
All meals had that three days rule which must not be broke.
Thank God for such moments.
As they taught us the value of always saving for the future.

To be continued tomorrow.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

Agadi nwanyị anaghị akaru nka na egwu ọ mara agba.
– An old woman is never too old to perform her
favorite dance step.
Literature / Ero Meji Loku 2 (a Bus Conductors Tale) by lalaponcus(m): 2:28pm On Aug 09, 2017
ERO MEJI LOKU 2 (A Bus conductors tale)

Continued from yesterday's episode.


____________________

I must confess that I could also be trusted for other things too.

When my classmates needed someone to organize exam cheating formation, I was a tactical mastermind.

For I would assign Tajudeeni and JesusTobi to the front seat.
That boy whose knack for engaging in nefarious activities showed that Jesus was not big at all in his life.

Gboyega and Soji would pass the papers to the back according to my instructions
And myself and Tawa, the head of female jaguda of the full 'abule', (village) would recieve the expo and destroy after sufficiently reading it.

I must confess that I could be trusted for other things too.

As I was previously the tactical genius in helping boys escape the long hands of the 'ojo' (police) back then before the harsh life within the prison wall tamed that part of me.

Ah.
I remember those days with a sorrowful heart.

Those evenings when Tade and Gbade would go and stand within the Tejuosho market.

When Tade would pretend to be a lost traveller asking directions and Gbade would sneak up with a razor to cleanly slit the bags of the unsuspecting victim who was busy acting like a good Samaritan.

Those evenings when I would order the boys to put on a show of tricks while using Gbade to pick the pockets of unsuspecting onlookers who stopped to look because they evidently had no clear place to be.

Those days when I would be forming Usain Bolt or Justin Gatlin in the hood while running away from the 'aja bingo' (local dog) that would be chasing me because I had carried away the pot of soup of its masters wife.

Those days when I organized my school boys and prepared them for a fight against the other school boys.

How did I prepare them, you may ask?

Well it was easy.

I made three hundred incisons on each of their shaven heads,
Rubbed the incisions with red hot powder which Tawa (Olori ebi of the clan of the jagundas, head of the clan of the trouble makers) claimed she had gotten from the seventh most powerful 'emere' in the world.

A claim I personally confirmed when I had shot with a dane her twice and saw that the bullets refused to penetrate her body.

I had told the boys to stay away from eating any salt at all.
For that was the 'nkan abami ti o le ba ogun je' (forbidden thing that could spoil the charm.

My ayeta had worked at the battlefield the next week.

For our boys were victorious against the other warriors from the other schools who had been decieved by their own charms maker.

The wicked herbalist had promised them rings which, he said, would cause mountains to level at their touch.
And had ended up giving them black rings that could not even kill a cockroach.

Little wonder I hated taking my boys to any babalawo for fortifications.

Thankfully, those days are gone.

Replaced by memories which I sometimes laugh over but never wish to return to.

(Extending hand towards pure water seller)

Oni pure water, tete bosi ibi.
Wa fun mi ni pure water.

Abi you nor get eye to see say this sun dey hot anyhow.

As if the angeli wey regulate the heat and cold temperature of the universe dey take some time off to sleep.

Why e no go hot sef?

Perhaps God dey plan to turn Lasgidi into plain land of desolation like Sodom and Gomorrah.

Perhaps one dragon dey plan to pour out im anger on this Lasgidi like that desolation of Smaug film.

(To a passenger)
Why are you so much surprised oga Ade.
Oh. So you think I don't watch such films bah?

You think I spend all my night watching films where Ogogo and Yinka Quadri keep offering seasoned advice like Pete Edoche in Nollywood films.

You think I spend all my time watching films where Odunlade Adekola keeps giving sleepless nights to the police force due to his acts of armed robbery which cannot be checked until they kill one old witch in the village or set a woman in his path.

You think I spend all my afternoons listening to Paso wonder and Orin Osupa Saidi (song of Osupa Saidi) and not knowing anything about artists like Ed Sheeran or Zayn Malik.

Rara ooo.

Emi ti lo international fa.
I have transcended the local borders and I fully enjoy everything.

(Back to the other passengers)

Lasgidi is messed up eyin ore mi
And that is why the heat is just so much that it seams like Lagos is shifting closer to hell fire.

Lasgidi yi
This Lasgidi ...

To be continued in later posts
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

Anuụ gbala taa, echi bụ nta.
– If an animal escapes the hunter today, tomorrow is
yet another day to hunt.
Poems For Review / Ero Meji Loku (a Bus Conductors Tale) by lalaponcus(m): 9:51am On Aug 08, 2017
ERO MEJI LOKU (A Bus conductors tale)

Ojuelegba
Ojuelegba
Mile two mile two.

E wole pelu change yin ooo. (Enter with your change)

Mi o wa ija laaro yi oo edakun sugbon eni to ba gbe ja wa, e mi a gbe fun e ni double. (I do not intend to fight this morning but I will give you double of any trouble you bring my way)

Hello my friends.

This are not just some strings of melodious and sometimes annoying words I choose to say everyday.

Unnhun o (sound of 'no')

They are my 'irin ise'.
The tools I use to coordinate eba and egusi into my empty pots at home

The tools I use to 'ginger the swagger' of my son's teacher in school so they dont send him away from the classes.

I don't kuku blame them.

After all, the government has turned the same teachers into peddlers of snacks, pure water and recharge card even while in class.

What do you expect from one you refuse to pay?

What efficiency do expect from an agbero who has not drank Iya Mukaila's hot agbo in the morning?
Surely that boy would keep sleeping on the job and may need to be gingered by a hot slap from his oga in order to boot his brain and update it to run the latest OS.

What kind of driving do you expect from a driver who has not been paid for almost three months at work?
Surely the driver would not give any heed to the pleas of the passengers at all, and would surely drive them into a ditch while humming 'tati billion for d akanti o'.
For a man without food in his belly cannot think enough to value his life or other people's lives

What kind of soup do you expect from a wife who has not been given 'owo obe' for more than three weeks.
Surely that husband would be served starch mixed in water as pap, and clay moulded in a ball as Akara.

Let me return back to my story.

Those words are my daily mantra.
My national anthem that I recite, just like those recited by school children on the assembly ground.

Those words are the hustlers anthem that I recite every morning just like yahoo boys who listen to 'double your hustle' by Orezi.

Those words are the opening prayer which I daily start off my day like the 'raba-shada-kada-rede' fired by the 'olusho-aguntan' pastor that intends to begin a 'fire fall on my enemies' crusade.


This is my tale.
A tale of a bus conductor, told by Edwardi, your amiable 'condo'

My father named me Edwardi.

A crass and local imitation of a name from a film he had watched at a neighbors house when he was younger.
He had been fascinated with the lead actor of the film who was called Edward.

A lead actor who, my father said, killed more than 'egberun lona egberun boossi' (one hundred thousand boss).

A lead actor, who my father said, 'gun eshin wo ni ija' (rode on horse back into a battle and whacked off the heads of twenty enemies with one swing of his battle axe).

A lead actor who, my father said, kicked thirty people into the sky like that kung-fu hustle boy, and took their women away.

My father can lie sha o!

But I dared not contradict any tale he told.
For that would mean that I was ready to dig my own grave that night.
Worse still, he was always a little high from 'emu Ikire' (palmwine from Ikire) when he weaved such wondrous lies.
And he would have definitely whipped me to death and back to life with his koboko if I had dared to say that he was a liar.

My mother calls me 'ayanfe mi'.

Poor woman had lost her true ayanfe, her husband, to the embrace of alcohol a long time ago.

Poor woman who continued to endure the shame of going to constantly pick up her drunken husband from the tarvens early in the morning of each day.
For her husband would be too drunk to walk and would have definitely passed the night in a gutter if he had dared to walk home after a night of drinking.

Poor woman who had suffered so much and is now stricken with arthritis.

Poor woman who suffers a severe back ache after having split so much wood during her youth.

So forgive me my friends if I am a bit grumpy when you see me in the morning time.
For I may have just rushed maami to the hospital where the nurses may have turned me back due to lack of money or out of sheer spite for someone of my status.

Anyways, my friends call me 'Heady wonder'.
Of course they call me that because I am a wizard with the ball.

Messi ati Dinho eleyin le gege o (Messi and Ronaldinho the natural advert for close up, can dribble the players keeper and post o)
Christiano Ronaldo ati Ibrahimu le je goal o
(Ronaldo and Zlatan Ibrahimovic can score goals even if the eleven players, coaching staff and fans pack themselves at the goal post o)

Sugbon wo o ni ori to mi
(But none of them can come close to me in headers)

Just like the legendary Drogba can be trusted to control the ball with the chest and score, all my team mates always trust my heading.

To be continued tomorrow
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com


Okwu a na-asọ anya anaghị ebi gboo.
– A subject that can not be freely discussed will not
have a quick closure.
Poems For Review / Beautifully Empty. by lalaponcus(m): 10:55am On Aug 07, 2017
BEAUTIFULLY EMPTY.

There she was,
A stunning figure eight diva who turned heads around when she walked.
Her eyes were like the eyes of Aphrodite, luscious, charming and melting the hearts of every guy that set eyes on her.

Her trap caught a big fish.
A rich guy who just could not wait to shackle himself with her for eternity.
For her beauty blinded every little alarm that were ringing while they still courted each other.

The wedding came and the pastor led them both into the jail.
Receiving no objection from the jury, he dutifully padlocked them with a diamond encrusted ring.

The tale went downhill from there.

The great sex failed to mask the gross ways of the new 'nwunye'.
The beautiful 'iyawo' had failed to tell the truth that her body had undergone twelve abortions and could not conceive due to doctors prognosis.

The 'omotena' who had wowed from the outside was a beautifully empty vessel.
One that could still be useful only when she fully surrendered to the maker of life.

There he stood,
A tongues blasting brother whose early morning reply consisted of only 'kadabosh'.
So committed, was he to cleaning the chairs that the pastor called him out as a special worker.
So committed, was he to singing in the choir that he had remained the choir coordinator for four years straight.

A certain day came and the uncle boarded a bus.
Sitting next to a short man who chewed kolanuts while minding his business.

Uncle stepped on the man and failed to apologize swiftly.
An action that caused the short man to unleash a string of incantations that drove uncle 'kadabosh' mad instantly.

Everyone wondered.
Kini o se uncle 'kadabosh'
Where lied the power that followed the string of tongues which the good uncle spoke every day.

None knew that brother was a pastor who held special services for aunty Onome in some dark lit hotels outside town.

None knew that uncle was the Baale of the gossip committee, while the elders wife was the Olori and they loved to drink maltina while mocking the holy spirit that resided in the pastor.

None knew that uncle could 'lie for Africa' and had kept insisting his ignorance of certain loss of money in the church box.
No wonder He had remained a faithful cleaner over the years.

Uncle 'kadabosh' looked so beautiful outside, but He was as empty as a dried up river bed in the midst of the Sahara desert.

He could be revived also.
Only when he surrenders to the miracle worker who Glowreeyah said 'can do a miracle today'.

Your life and mine too can be made whole today.
Only when we submit totally to the destination changer who Glowreeyah says 'can change a destiny today'
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

Hello friend. Jesus loves you and wants to fashion the best out your life.

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Literature / Madame Koi Koi Final (a Trip Down Fgc Ikirun Lane) by lalaponcus(m): 2:25pm On Aug 05, 2017
MADAME KOI KOI FINAL (A TRIP DOWN FGC IKIRUN LANE)

This piece is dedicated to Mrs Osobu and Mr. Adeoye.
Two teachers who we thought were specially sent to frustrate our lives.
Two parents who we thought were more terrible than 'esu laalu ogiri oko, abaniworan ba rida' himself
For these two teachers did not shy away from wielding the 'egba'

Nay
They ensured that we got a full dosage of the chloroquine of sense everytime they realized that the malaria of indiscipline had started coming.

They ensured that the koboko provided a good blanket which kept out the cold of laziness from affecting our bones.

These two ensured that our eyes of understanding were fully opened, an act which helped us to avoid the paths of destruction.

Eshe gan o

___________
'Kiloshele. Kilode? (what happened)
The questions pouring out from the lips of everyone and directed to the student.

Some students had already bought liquid condensed milk for him to drink.
At least that seemed to be the cure for people who faint,
And it seemed to be a good cure for people who screamed out loud from their sleep.

Perhaps its unique taste would easily calm them down, and remind them that some things in this life that were still sweet.
A timely reminder that may dissuade their minds from thinking of joining their ancestors on the 'odi keji, orun' (other side, heaven)

The milk began to work and the student calmed down.

Slowly, he narrated his tale.
Telling us of how he had been dreaming excellently well until they came.

Until they, who were the emissaries from the witch coven in his village, came to pay him a visit.

Until they, who could have been acting on the orders of his ex-girlfriend, who he had kissed once at the basketball court and dumped two minutes later because her mouth odour was so offensive that it mistakenly killed a family of flies who were unfortunately flying by, came to avenge their mistress

He had been dreaming an excellent dream until, those 'eleye (witches), who had filled Oba Adedapo's stomach with water and turned him into a pregnant woman in 'Koto Aiye' film, had decided to come and fill his tommy too.

Those witches had come to press him, and no matter how hard he tried to say Jesus, they did not leave.

How could they leave?

When the poor boy trying to call Jesus had successfully paid a visit to the locker of his friend the previous day without asking for forgiveness;

How could they leave when he was part of the ringleader of male students who secretly went to peep through the windows of the girls hostel.
No wonder a big 'koko (bruise) was still in the center of his head, as one girl had slammed the wooden window hard on his face when her fellow 'bunkie' told her to shut the window.

How could they leave when the student was a powerless christian who constantly slept through the messages and prayers in chapel on Sunday, only choosing to be active during the family song when he would get the opportunity to hold a girl's hand and sing.

"Oh.
Se iyen lasan lo se e?"
(is that the only thing that happened to you?)
Some seniors asked.

Already getting angry that their precious time was wasted by a student who could not handle what normally happened to some of them daily.

Beeni o.

Getting visited by these unusual visitors had become a daily thing they looked forward to with less gusto.

Little wonder they were always waking up on the wrong side of life and could easily kill anyone with their wicked looks early in the morning, when they idly sat on their bunks or when they shouted 'last boy' to get students to run errands for them.

________
"Kpele o. You too start putting a bible under your pillow before you sleep."
Senior Fola said.
Re-echoing the popular belief that most students shared.

At least it was believed in by those ones who were too lazy to read one chapter within the bible.

Their pastors at home had told them that the word of God was like two edged swords.
And being the imaginative children they were, they had innocently thought that the bible would transform into two flaming swords to cut down any devil whenever they dreamt.

Like the watch of Ben, the students believed that holding the bible would automatically transform the owner into a magnificent power ranger, radiating a yellowish light that would blind the forces of the enemy.

Like Luikeng against Sharukhan in final battle of the mortal Kombat film, they believed that just holding the bible would turn them into a great eagle that would kill any demonic serpent .

Like a 20 naira note which is placed at a crossroad in any village, they believed that the bible possessed immediate transformative powers that could even turn them into cheetahs which would run away very fast if the battle seemed too hard for them to win.


"What is wrong with you this boy? I have told you to come and collect honey to lick before you go to bed every night. You will also put two drops in your bathing water before you sleep"
So said senior Dami, the student 'oloogun' (herbalist) who people feared sometimes.

For his bald head bore the marks of 201 incisions.
A feature which he always proudly showed off while daring anyone to touch or fight him.
"Beeni. Oni to un a di eni igbagbe. Rara, a kan ku gbe bi eni ti ara san pa ni (Yes. That person will become a forgotten person. No, the person would die suddenly like a person who thunder strikes).


He was telling the student to add 'adun' (sweetness) to his dreams.

Honey to transform the dreams into Hollywood videos where the dreamer becomes James Bond and ultimately kills the boss and gets to sleep with stunning girl as an added bonus of doing his country proud.

Honey to transform the dreams into Bollywood films, where the dreamer becomes Amir Khan or Toofan that single handedly destroys a gun wielding army of 200 men just with punches and a iron rod.

Honey to transform the dreams into a Nollywood film where the dreamer becomes Ramson Noah, the pastor who defeated the demonic big eyed Segun Arinze in the final fight of the film 'seven pilgrims'

With honey or the bible, anyone could defeat the evil ones, the two seniors believed.
Claims which I found to be highly ineffective when put to the test.

Beeni
I had been visited by those faceless and bodiless things before.

Wicked beings that kept sucking away every little joy I had, like the dementors in Harry potter movie.

Scary entities that burst into a sardonic laugher when they saw me placing the Gideon new testament bible on the iron bunk underneath my bed.

Beasts that held their sides in more laughter when they saw that I returned the next night with a borrowed complete bible since I thought that a Gideon's bible was not enough to kill the devil.

I had also tried spicing up my dreams with honey too.

An unfortunate experience for those beasts kept beating me up and leaving me in bruises like a boxer who comes up against Tyson.

An unfortunate experience because they kept hunting me in the dark with pitchforks, chainsaws and knives like Freddie (in nighmares on elms street) and that dreaded toy Chuckie (in a child play).

Ah

Those bastard demons showed me that the weapons of warfare are not physical.
Rather, they were very spiritual and only with intense prayers could I defeat them.

I would have told the student my own cure.

But I was already sleeping peacefully in the Niger (blue) house hostel that was nearby.

Let me rephrase that, I was already sleeping in the Niger house hostel.

For there was nothing peaceful about sleeping on a bare and cold iron bunk with nothing but a boxer and singlet on.

For there was nothing peaceful about sleeping close to a damp area where soldier ants may decide to use as their route anytime.

Again,
Let me rephrase that assertion.

I was already sleeping peacefully in the Niger house hostel.

For a man who is sleeping peacefully on a mere bunk is better than a man that is under demonic oppression while sleeping on a water bed.

For a man that does not have a car is much better than the Ololade Mr. Money, whose dead wife is chasing up and down because he used her for rituals.

For a man who cries in a beetle 'ijapa' car is much more better than that man who is being caned by 'al janu' (genie) in his limosene which has a fridge that is filled with champagne bottles and choice dishes.

Beeni

I think I was better off than the poor bloke who had truly experienced the visit of madame koi koi.

The end of madame Koi Koi episodes.
Thanks for staying till the end. The next FGC IKIRUN trips will be on INTER HOUSE SPORTS EXPERIENCES

Stay tuned.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

1 Like

Literature / Re: Aka Aka Ya (that Hand Of Jehovah) by lalaponcus(m): 7:11pm On Aug 04, 2017
Oyindawealth:
Lalaconpus dat was so thoughtful of u!!! Believe me it's so different from wat I've been reading on nairaland.It's also so inspiring... Dere's no one like my Jahovah!!! I so luv him!!!

Thank God for that dear
Literature / Aka Aka Ya (that Hand Of Jehovah) by lalaponcus(m): 9:43am On Aug 04, 2017
AKA AKA YA (THAT HAND OF JEHOVAH)

Nwa nnem forget ihe gi na ko.

Bone dat level na im I dey talk before you stand there dey look like yahoo boy wey EFCC wake am up with better slap for face and cold handcuff for wrists.

I say make you forget that tin wey you dey yarn.

Who tell you say Jehovah hand nor long reach?
Na which news station tell you say e get one time wey Jehovah don fall man hand before.

Abi na dat Doubt TV you buy for house na im dey feed you this yeye news.
Abi na that fine mammy water looking news presenter for Fear TV, na im you dey watch all the time wen ya wife don sleep for room.

Na which physical town crier beat the gong to inform you say God name don change from 'Jehovah over-do' to 'Jehovah some-do'

Abi you don begin listen to that mama Dipo, amebo international, wey her ear nor dey gree hear good news.
That woman wey use better lie take frame the Kabiesi of her village, wey come make the village ban her from coming home.

Abi you don begin drink pap and chop Akara from mama ifedi store;
That chairlady of 'gbeborun women's association' wey her mouth dey run like tap wey the head don spoil.

Abi you don go begin work for baba Tunde mechanic yard;
That man wey anybody fit bribe to tell a lie with only two wraps of fufu and egusi soup without meat sef.

I wan hear from your mouth gan gan gan.

Which time you don call God wey Him nor gree answer?
Shey that God nor answer for that time wey you dey shake for bed like leaf wey heavy rain dey mama (hit hard) im head.

Abi Him nor gree send angel come liberate your destiny wey that old mama tie for top of the village palm tree.
You sef know say na for Africa na im the witches nor dey gree use their power for positive thing.
Na to dey tie womb upandan na im the idiots sabi pass.

Shey im nor gree bless the work of your hand, na im be your complain.
Abi na say im nor give you the power to make wealth.
You sef know say your current poverty na your own fault because im don provide you with the mind to take make the wealth.

Dakun oo
E be like say yesterday message nor touch ya heart.
I want make this one pierce through every thick hide of depression wey you don cover yasef with.

Beeni
Aka Jehovah has always pulled you through those tough moments and will continue to do the same for you.

So cheer up o. Sunday na thanksgiving biko.

A trip down FGC IKIRUN lane would come out tomorrow.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

Hello friend. Jesus loves you

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Literature / Thank God For Kini? by lalaponcus(m): 10:38am On Aug 03, 2017
THANK GOD FOR KINI?

Dakun o
Wetin I dey give thanks for?
Shey na for my empty kitchen wey church rats dey fear to enter?
Abi na for the 'shin-gbain nothing' wey nor dey my pockets.?

Oh
Shey you feel say because I enter sweet sensation and silverbird last week,
That na why you think say omo boy don hammer better.

Well.
Na cleaner work I find go dia o
And that work nor even reach my hand unto say unemployment don kpafuka we country.

Na so some chairmen welay me for road join sef.
Begin romance my cheeks with better slap because I no wan gree release the last 500 naira wey dey my hand.

Na so one yeye boy use me take shine sef.
Dey call me 'dead broke-ass-niggur' because say I no wan gree give am chance to jump line for atm queue.
Thank God say me nor even know wetin e mean sef.
Otherwise kasala for burst for inside that banking hall that hot afternoon wey sun dey wire me for head.

Now you dey tell me to go do thanksgiving.

Make I go church dey begin smile like who don chop food wey woman jazz with love portion.

Make I dey dance go drop offering like fowl wey don mistakenly pass where ukwani boys dey smoke igbo.

Make I dey smile tell my neighbor say 'God is good', like pikin wey fear of im mama koboko force am to go apologize to teacher wey im abuse.

Make I come begin say 'bless you sister, bless you broda' after church like person wey don get assurance say im go chop belle-full after church eh?

(Bashorun intercepts)
"OGAAAAA"
You too complain abegi.

Na only you dey carry the problem of this world for back?
Abi you never hear say the rich also cry too.

I say make you go give thanks.
For the life wey baba supply you, go thank am.
Say those gbo gbo Haram boys never blow up your legs, go thank am.

Say them nor born you for place where them dey cut person lip for fun, go thank am.

Say you get small garri to soak and you no dey bend down to drink mud water, go thank am.

Say stray bullet nor dey lodge inside your skull, like nasty visitor wey no wan leave, go thank God.

Say you even get house for head, go thank am

Go thank am because na person wey dey give, na im dey recieve.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

Hello friend. This Sunday is thanksgiving service for most churches. Let this coming one be an extraordinary one for you by your act of genuinely thanking God.
Literature / Omo Mi Ni Omo Yen (that Girl Is Mine) by lalaponcus(m): 10:59am On Aug 02, 2017
OMO MI NI OMO YEN (THAT GIRL IS MINE)

Ara Aye e teti ki e gbo o
Open your ears and listen to the beat of my Bata drum.
All you other boys, force open your sealed ears and avoid treading the paths that you wish to tred upon.

For your end will be as unfavorable as that soldier whose head was suffocated to death by the crown in the 'Saworode' movie.

Beeni
Baby mi ni baby yen.

Forget all dat girama wey I don dey try force myself to speak since.
Bone all dat accent wey I wan dey form ever since I don meet Taofeek, a returnee from the UK, who I don dey try to emulate.

E be like say I go start to dey wear my dansuki, agbada and abeti Aja for you to know say I nor dey play for hia

Ti ija ko, fi omo mi le
Nor be fight.
Ani leave my fadekemi alone.

Your dey lucky sha.
Say she don calm me very well.
Nitoripe I for don off shirt begin engage you for gidigbo (wrestling match) here.

You dey lucky sha
Because na her voice note be the only music wey dey my brain memory card.

That voice note wey dey always tell me to 'se medo medo' (calm down).

That voice note wey dey always remind me say her love for me na 'labe igi orombo' kind of love

That voice note wey dey always tell me to be a perfect gentleman.

Kaii
Na that voice note dey help you o;

Otherwise I for don remind you say na me be husband to Efunsetan Aniwura wen she dey alive;

Otherwise, the fire wey I go unleash on you go remind you say Sango come learn work from me before him go become orisha;

Otherwise I for teach you say big difference dey between igbá (calabash) and Igbà (two hundred);

Dakun leave her for me o.

Leave her for me make I fit rest my ori (head) in peace at night knowing say my aponke is very safe.

Leave her alone so I fit unleash the might of my love on my orente.

Shey na food she wan chop?
With opolopo erin (plenty laughter), na im I go use fry the akara tabi 'moi moi elemi meje' wey she go take with eko for early mo mo

With Adun okan (heart of joy) na im I go pound the 'iyan' and cook the 'obe egusi' wey she go dey chop for afternoon time.

With good cheer na im I go run go uproot my yams and collect eyin (egg) from my adiye (birds), just to fry am for her in the evening.

With 'ayo pi pe' (full joy) na im I go take run go farm to pick the mangoro ati ibepe (pawpaw) wey she go use do dessert.

Shey na cloth my asabi wan wear?

I go carry all my 'apo owo' (bag of money) go oja (market) to buy her the finest ileke to adorn her neck.

I go even sell one of my lands wey dey isale ikotun just to buy her that fine wura (gold) wey go make her dey radiate a queenly glow always.

I go even buy am that embroidery wey all those Alhaji dey bring from Morocco and those fine gown wey all those India girls dey wear.

Shey na work she want make I help her with?

With inu didun (joyous heart) na im I go tie our Atinuke for my back with better iro while my iyawo go dey rest.

With opolopo suuru (patience) na im I go help her to remove the Ewedu leaves from their stem while she dey slice alubosa (onions) for corner of the kitchen.

With opolopo ife (much love) na im I go help her pick out the best attire when we go shopping.

Beeni
I will do all these and more
Nitoripe omo mi ni omo yen.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

Hello friend. I could do all these for the one I love, but Jesus did much more for YOU whom He loves.

1 Like

Literature / Oreke Lewa (the Fair Maiden) by lalaponcus(m): 11:24am On Aug 01, 2017
OREKE LEWA (THE FAIR MAIDEN)

"Adunke jade."(Adunke come out)
The gende okunrin (young man) said as he beckoned to the village maiden.
Breaking into a breathtaking dash, he ran towards the section where she sat with other maidens.

Suddenly, he began his trademark energetic acrobats.
Flipping backwards and drawing rounds of "ahhaa, hoo" from the over-excited crowd who could not seem to get enough.

"Se le kan si." They kept shouting.
Urging him to give the physically exhausting routine one more try even though they could see that he was panting heavily.

"Adunke jade"
He blared one more time.
Raising his hands in mock exasperation at not being answered by the fair maiden.

He had won the contest for her heart.

From the wrestling bouts against other champions from the seven villages which surrounded his own, he had emerged victorious.
Posting a personal record of defeating Okeshola, village cat, within twenty minutes.

From the trial of going into the evil forest to retrieve the 'opa ase' (staff of authority), he had emerged victorious.
Posting a personal record of being the only one to come out unhurt despite fighting ten terrible 'egbere' (spirits) and escaping wrath of laalu ogiri oko, the chief caretaker of the forest.

From the trial of withstanding the charm and allure of the 'omo osun' (children of the river goddess osun) spirits, he had emerged victorious.
Posting a personal record of being the first young man not fall for the fair skinned marine spirits whose voices were like the Sirens of Greek mythology.
So seductive and alluring were their voices that many young men had willingly walked into the river where the spirits resided and had drowned.

From the trial of wealth acquisition, he had emerged unscathed and victorious.
Posting a personal record of being the first man to ever own an 'ijapa' beetle and Vesper car at the same time.
A feat that was possible because he owned more than ten cocoa farms and two logging companies spread across the seven villages.

The maiden blushed and did not answer the first and second call.
Dressed in a white apparel with red beads adorning her neck, waist and each leg, she had made up her mind not to act so cheaply before the full glare of the village.

Her mother had taught her well.

She had been taught never to be moved by outward show of strenght.
For that does not always equate to a firm moral character.

She had been taught never to be moved by the monies her eyes could see.
For money is a visitor that could develope wings to fly away at any point in life.

She had been taught never to esteem a fearless individual over every other person.
For such individuals sometimes even decide not to fear 'Eledumare' their creator who gives them such might;
And such individuals who do not fear their creator ultimately end up challenging their creator to a wrestling match in an attempt to crown themselves king:
A wrestling match that brings swift doom upon such a person.

Beeni
The fair maiden had been groomed very well and she knew.
Knew that one should never make a choice solely based on the appearance and feelings of the human heart.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com


Happy new month to everyone.

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Nairaland / General / A New Day by lalaponcus(m): 9:55am On Jul 31, 2017
A NEW DAY

Nwa baby
Gini na e me gi na?
Wetin dey sup and why ya face dey dull?

You know na,
Say na you be the one wey dey 'mechie uzo' (close the door) to pain in my life.

Okwa gi ma (I hope you know) that one with you dey make me unstoppable.
Dey make me unshakable and unmovable like that man from Aba wey just chop five wraps of fufu and ofe egusi.

You know say na you be the fuse wey dey keep my brain circuit from burning up.

The 'mmiri' (water) wey dey cool my red hot and smoking radiator.
The 'mmanya ndu' (life beer) wey dey shark me day by day.
The hot water and salt wey dey soften and sweeten my ube (pear).

Nwa gba a ra m maka chi a fu go.
(Forgive me for a new day has come)

Abeg make you forget all those times wey I don break your heart.
Make you carry super glue begin piece all of them together so we go start on a new plate; sorry, slate.

Ka anyi bido (let us begin) a new kind of love.

One wey I go raise you up, put for shoulder, and begin to dey run the lenght of bar beach.
Sorry nwa, I forget say you don add small weight for everywhere.
I mean say we go hold each other, dey run into the bar beach water and outside again.

A new kind of love where we go run go village for a sweet weekend getaway.

Where we go dey go ugbo (farm) together, where I go dey clear the farm and you go dey roast the yam on top fire made from sticks.

We go dey go the village stream to swim, dey spash each other water while those village maidens go dey eye us with better jelousi for eye, while we no go care.

We go dey go the village 'uka' (church) where we go te-egwu (dance) together without feeling ashamed, unlike our Lekki church where 2pac 'all eyez on me' kind of people, dey always form too much.

Make we start a new kind of love nwanyi m.

A new kind of love in Tokyo wey I go sofree prepare your favorite food for early mo mo.

All those breakfast in bed kind of love wey dose oyinbo people dey do for film.

I go begin listen to you more.

Dey open my ear down for you to patiently unload everything wey dey bother your heart.
Then I go support you when you need me to asa m.
Sorry nwa, I fit doze off sometimes wey you go dey talk oo.
I nor be person wey perfect before.
Still I go try everything wey I fit do to make you happy nne.

All na because God don provide me with a new day to love you.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

Hello friend. Jesus loves you very much.
Poems For Review / What A Friend? by lalaponcus(m): 1:53pm On Jul 30, 2017
WHAT A FRIEND?

Ewu nbe ni oko Alonge o Jesu.
Big trouble looms in the horizon.

That hymn (what a friend we have in Jesus) provided a spark
A lyrical balm to soothe my wounds
So sweet was its sound
So calming was its effect.

I spoke extensively to Jesus that day
Groaned intensively to the one who loves me
Went on the offensive in my struggle against pain
Backtracked comprehensively in every aspect I had erred
And banished my apprehensive thoughts to the abyss.

I prayed so much.
Encouraging others to tow that same line.
Wondering why some people dont find it easy in praying.

I smiled so much
Urging others to be grateful for the present bliss
Innocently disturbed that some people found it hard to thank God.

Now I am back to that spot.

The wheels of life has spu
n once again.
Placing my feet in the 'not too lucky zone'
Dropping my heart in that frightful valley once again.
Seeping my happiness slowly with the straws of worry.
Reopening the blisters by listing the reasons why prayer is not the key.
Creating a false picture of victory by presenting a means I can take to help God.

Beeni
Ewu nbe loko Alonge.
Sugbon (but)

This time is different.

For I know;
Even through the feasting and anguish, my lord stood firm for me.
A fact that keeps my soldier boots and war regalia, fully on.
A reality that girds up my mind, hardening it to withstand a greater wave of doubt.
A truth that keeps me on guard at night, making me to stay even when my trench is taking a heavy shelling and my comrades are deserting quick

Though my heart yearns for these 'up and down' moments to stop, I know that it will be well in the end.
Because I have a priest who understands.
Because I have a God who braved it all.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com

Happy Sunday
Poems For Review / DEAR DEBORAH (A Letter To My Niece) by lalaponcus(m): 11:38am On Jul 29, 2017
DEAR DEBORAH (A letter to my niece)

Omo Alayo.

Booni oo.
Uncle Bashorun watches your growth with a keen eye;

Awaiting to see your manifestation as a Zoe
Awaiting to see kingdoms tremble at the sound of your coming.
Awaiting to see your lance stained with ichor from the wounds inflicted on the foe called fear.

Awaiting to watch you reclaim the belongings of the weak from the strong men who dispossessed them.
Awaiting to watch you spread out your arms to embrace the low spirited ones and infuse strenght to their bones.

Awaiting to see you consult the great books with a burning desire to invent cures to benefit the world.
Awaiting to see you fall, yet standing back up, and repeating the circle until you rise to fall no more.

Awaiting to see you race to the cross for succor and to grandma for wisdom.
Awaiting to see you grow in wisdom so as to become a great niece to Atinuke when the little one would finally come.

Deborah o.
Your uncle pens these prayers for your dearest papa and mama.

A prayer that their bond of love and friendship would never break
Rather, like a fine wine, they shall value each other better with every passing day.

A prayer that they would never lack.
With the yams of favour, their barns shall be full.
With the fishes of good health, their ponds shall be filled.
With the ugwu of wisdom, their farms shall be full
With the cowries of good money, their banks shall be filled.
With the goldfish of mercies, their tanks shall be filled.
With the spice of 'love nwantintin', their soups shall be filled.
With the paste of seasoned words, their mouths shall be brushed.

Deborah o.
Your uncle sends his love.
#BASHORUN

Okontas.com
Nairaland / General / The Newd Broadcast 2.0 by lalaponcus(m): 9:34am On Jul 28, 2017
THE NEWD BROADCAST 2.0

The pizza store received the highest order since it had been established, and worked tirelessly to fill them.
While the pizza sizzled in hot oil and emitted an appealing smell that warfed through the kitchen, the cooks hurdled across the potato table, slapping each others palms in a 'high-five' motion, with genuine smiles spread across their faces even though the bin boy and the carrots guy had tried to loop each others heads with knives in a morning fight.
While driving to the various homes for delivery, the truck drivers increased the stereos in their cars to fully listen to a recap of the news.

The office manager burst out of his office, running across the hallway and poking his head into every cubicle while shouting, "He did it".

The workers also joined in the public show. Flinging office papers in the air, like graduands do their caps on graduation day, and quickly picking them up to file on the table to avoid mix ups.
The office maintenance guy broke into a break dance routine, moving his body to an imaginary beat like a robot being controlled by an exicted child.

The traffic warden momentarily forgot his job and began to jump wildly in the air, while some car owners pushed hard on the breaks to avoid collision.
The car owners came out of their cars to share in the joy. Commuters running to hug other commuters and altogether causing a huge gridlock in the streets and underground train stations.

The air hostess in a frenzied excitement almost rushed to the cockpit to inform the pilots of the great news before restraining herself.
For the news would cause the pilots to momentarily forget their stations and cause the ride to delay longer with some possible complications.

The occupants of the first class cabins had run to share the news with the second class cabin passengers.
Bringing along their unopened bottles of champagne and glasses, passing them around and clinking glasses in a celebratory fashion.

The news anchor could not hide the tears as he read directly from the prompter.
The deliverer of the news had promised to give the editor the news of the century and had fulfilled her promise.

The entire news team in the news room were shouting and clasping each others hands in a show of elation.
The 'foodie girls' anchor had left her stage set and ran to hug and kiss her husband, the anchor of the metrology 'weather forcast' program.
The sports guy, who was a recluse due to deep depression, was jubilantly hugging the tech guys.

The news anchor still reading the teleprompter could not believe what his mouth was uttering,

"The evil one is defeated: Death is swallowed up in victory. Jesus Christ of Nazareth has done this priceless job and paid the sacrifice with His life. He only commands we continue to abide in Him always. He only wishes that we abide in Him. That's it folks, join us later at 10 o clock for a recap of the days news"
#BASHORUN

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Hello friend. Jesus loves you very much.
Literature / The News Broadcast by lalaponcus(m): 9:36am On Jul 27, 2017
THE NEWS BROADCAST


The palmwine gourds emptied upon the broadcast of the good news.
The pots filled with 'ofe nsala' quickly sank like the Titanic.
The jaws worked at a faster pace, munching and cracking every flesh and bones of the grass-cutter.

The television screamed with its volume tuned to the highest.
The headmaster's radio squeaked from a weakened battery, blurting out the good news in between a cracked transmission.

The wares of the clothe seller was visited and carted away by the reknown thief, while she was jubilating with her infant crying loudly at her back.
The plantain seller gave the, tin carrying, mad man a hot chase after he had come to claim one head of plantain, when her back was turned on her wares in momentary.

The local champion of the wrestling contest lifted up his friend and feigned a mock move to dash him against the tree stump in jubilation.
The pretty maiden, with firm breasts in her prime, raised a victory song while her friends danced when the news reached them at the village stream where they went to wash their clothes and take their bath.

The palace clown, out of sheer joy, ran out of the 'baluwe' (bath hut) with only his loin clothe on; causing the palace guards to momentarily place him in the rust coated iron-gated prison
All to prevent the royal wives from beholding, and perhaps falling for another man since it was a reknown fact that the 'alase-ikeji-orisha' (second to the gods) was a man with a small reproductive organ who could not satisfy his wives despite marrying seven.

The chief priest hit the ground ten times with the ikenga stick, and threw the three kola pieces on the surface of the white rectangular cloth, to inquire from the gods if the news was a benevolent act from them which deserved a sacrifice in return.
The gods stayed silent for a while before uttering "NO"; they were sad because they knew that their time would soon be up and the news would result in a slow desertion of the old ways.
A trickle of old practioners would leave and the trickle would eventually result in mass desertion of the practices of offering sacrifice and cowering from the wrath of the gods.

In between the squeaking of the radio, the news continued to be sputtered by the exicted news anchor.

"The evil one is defeated: Death is swallowed up in victory"
In between the commentary, the people heard the name of their hero and saviour; JESUS
In between the jubilations, the people praised the name of their hero and saviour; JESUS
#Bashorun

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Hello friend. Jesus loves you very much.

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Nairaland / General / BI DONGOYARO (bitter But Necessary) by lalaponcus(m): 9:27am On Jul 24, 2017
BI DONGOYARO (Bitter but necessary)

Tunji bo si ibi ki o wa mu agbo yi.
(Tunji, come here and take this herbal drink)

So said the loving mother to her young one while I watched from across the street.

The little one's face soured.
Like a fowl drenched in water, he stood, shivering from the malaria that had seeped into his system.

Rooted, he stood on the spot like a child who mistakenly enters wili wonker's chocolate factory and never wishes to leave.

Rooted, he stood on the spot like a young lady upon entering a diamond store.

Rooted, he stood on the spot like a music critic who enters a room whose occupants are Handel, Bethoven, Yanni and Enya.

Rooted, he stood on the spot like the village idiot who enters the tavern after he has been told that all his drinks have been paid for by a wealthy patron.

Rooted he stood, not wishing to advance to take the severely bitter concotion

The ice-cream truck came by.

Playing its familia tone, over the loudspeakers which drew children close.
Playing its popular tone which caused some parents heart to sink.
For their purses were lean, and their little children would surely have a fit when denied the opportunity to 'lick ice cream'

Mama Tunji rushed over to the lad.
Using a belt to redirect his course from the path to more troubles.

Dragging him to the backyard and forcefully opening his mouth to drink the concotion.
For she needed him to be well and strong, even though he thought that she was a wicked ogre hell bent of making his life miserable.

My mind went to my walk with my God.

Remembering the times I skipped certain 'dongoyaro-ish' portions of the bible

Those portions that laid down specific curses for children who did not wish to incline their ears unto wisdom.

Those parts that severely hammered on the fact that I needed to work in God's vineyard.

That part of the bible that told me to forsake the world, my family and friends, just to follow my master.

That part where He instructs me to be patient in trials.

Those parts where He told me to go the extra mile in pleasing my enemies and turn the other cheek.

Those were the dongoyaro parts of the bible I did not wish to drink.

Instead, I usually ran to the ice cream trucks.

The portions of the bible where blessings were decreed upon the child of God.

The portion of the bible that told me to love myself (without the neighbor part biko).

The portion of the bible that told showed Elijah calling down fire on his enemies.

The part of the bible where Jesus says that greater works shall I do.

Those were the ice cream I ran to.

Like a loving father.

God caused adversity to come my way like Jonah.
All to redirect me to obeying His message which I have been called to spread.

God allowed pain to come my way like Job.
All to cause my faith in Him to remain unshakable.

Gods' voice echoed so loud in my ears like Samuel.
All to make me desist from falling like Hophni and Phineas.

God caused my eyes to be blind for a while like Paul's.
All to drive me to work in His vineyard and wrestle destinies away from the evil ones grip.

God redirected me like mama Tunji.
For He knew that I could not afford to go on taking ice cream all the days of my life.
#BASHORUN

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Beloved, do not wait for adversity to drive you to obeying God's call and living a purpose driven life.
Religion / His Principles by lalaponcus(m): 1:20pm On Jul 23, 2017
HIS PRINCIPLES (Inspired by Church Unusual pastor)

Father lord, bless me.
Enlarge my coast that my barns would be full of yams.
Enlarge my fruitfulness that my goats would give birth in sevens.
Increase my worth that my feet would only tread on golden carpet.
Bless me that my enemies would begin to use my name for prayer point

So he prayed.
Twisting violently with hands firmly holding the pole.
The pastor said that heaven had brought an open cheque for them.
And by god, the man planned to withdraw all the blessings from the bank of heaven.

God took one look at the cheque and laughed
The heavenly inhabitants were seized with His infectious laugh and partook.
The laugh sounded like a thousand thunders on earth.
Causing a magnitudinal 9.0 earthquake that split the earth's surface into two at many locations.

"This child asks me to give. Yet he would not read my words
"This child implores me to give yet he would not give at all
His time, he failed to give in service of God.
His little money, he failed to give to bless the lives of the poor and the widow.
A part of his little income, he vehemently refuses to give to the church from the missionary efforts to go on smoothly.

Words of hope are alien to his lips.
Curses and rain of fire, he keeps urging upon the heads of everyone he is in conflict with.

The little I gave him, has drawn him a little to the world.
The large I would give Him, would definitely draw him totally away from the cross.

Angel Michael.

Go forth and bless the Bill Gates, whose foundations feed millions of starving children of Africa while the rich Africans themselves sit idly.
Go forth and bless the Aliko Dangotes, whose welfare package for the poor is the best in south of the Sahara of Africa
Go forth and bless the Adeboye's who spend more than seven hours of their time praying for other people and not themselves.
Go forth and bless the Rehard Bonke's who travel around the globe spreading my word and being sold out to me.

Go forth and tell them
That I am the God that causes rain to fall on the saved and the unsaved.
And even though my presence ushers in great joy, my principles would NEVER change even though that child goes on a twenty years dry fast.
#BASHORUN

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Hello friends. Jesus loves you very much.
Literature / Nysc Camp Experiences ( Episode 5) by lalaponcus(m): 1:18pm On Jul 22, 2017
NYSC CAMP EXPERIENCES ( EPISODE 5)

Continued from yesterday's episode
____________

After ten more minutes of searching and proper documentation of my details, the police man and women let me go. Giving me a small tag and directing to go and join the queue in other to be cleared and assigned a bed space for the night.

The queue was a long one abegi.
Like a snake with an unending tail, it stretched across the offices down towards the mami market.
All filled with graduates from every state of the federation.
The blend was unique and the sight was comical.
The ajepakos who came from Uniben and other federal and state universities, but sometimes tried to form' were standing for more than five hours straight.

An evidence of the fact that they had passed through the lions den and would not bothered by the bark which was coming from 'this local NYSC dog'.

In groups of twos and threes, they were hurdled.

A group of Men and women from the same universities who were sharing banter on how they had overcome the last stressful procedure which their universities had tried to force them through during the clearance for statement of result.

A group of women from the same faculties who were discussing the latest Jennifer series which was taking the whole of the TV screens by storm and how they could not wait to be done with the camp to return back to their normal lives.

A group of men from the same state who were discussing how the reality of unemployment hit them hard immediately after school.
For they had gone to meet their uncles and had been politely told to 'go and look for a job young man'; a venture which did not quite turn out well as the job interview venues were filled to the brim with job seekers including some of their friends who had graduated ten years back.
'This country hard oo' a member of the last group echoed out while his comrades shook their heads in pitiful acceptance of the hurtful but truthful assessment of their nation.

The other members of the queue were the Ajebutter graduates
The Covenant's and Babcock's were heavily sweating or sitting down
Their posh suitcases by their sides and their faces which was sending a clear message reading 'I AM NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE'

Who could blame them?
Apparently their eyes had not been assaulted with so much negativity before that they wondered if the last group of men were Nigerian or Niger citizens.
For the Nigeria, these ajebutter's lived in began in Lekki and ended in the posh districts of Abuja.
For their minds could not harbour the thoughts of themselves struggling to impress an interviewer talk less of getting a job.

Apparently the sun flies of Akwa Ibom were giving them a good welcome gift.
Tiny wicked things that kept biting the ajebo students and leaving little red moulds littered across their soft and fresh skin.

In groups of twos and threes, they were hurdled too

A group of boys and girls from the same university gathered around discussing the implications of the new NUC ruling on their school.
One which would ensure that the students were given greater freedom of expression and would be exempted from some of the distressing rules and regulations which the school had laid down

A group of girls from the same faculty relating their summer experiences in Paris where le croissant (that is french bread) and the exquisite weddings they attended in Dubai where mousse au chocolate was served for dessert along with crème brûlée.

A group of guys discussing the latest surge in prices of the stock market and also the recent hike in the prices of Air Jordan sneakers.
'Jordans should not cost that much. It is not like it is much better or fitting to the feet than Kanye West's Adidas Yeezy sneakers' a member of the group said while his friends nodded in affirmation despite the fact that they had secretly made up their minds to buy the latest Jordans even with the hike in prices.

I slowly walked towards the end of the queue.
Taking in the sights and getting a little disappointed at the state of the hostels.
The hostels were about seven in number.
A number which was made up of three female hostels and four male hostels.
The paint on the walls had faded. A previously luxuriant yellow colour now replaced with a colour that could be called white or light yellow.
The kitchen was at the extreme right of the first boys hostel.
A place, I vowed I would immediately visit if I got my meal ticket for my pockets were quickly running dry.

"Please is there anyone at your back"
I inquired from a short light lady whose tired pose suggested the presence short temper which would be sparked by any little provocation.

"Yes. There are three boys and they are there" she replied, pointing at a group of boys who were on their way to take personal pictures with an army officer who stood close to the mami market with an AK-47 in hand.

Let me not drag the mat farther than its lenght,
Their journey did not end well at all.
For in between the frog jumps, they were educated on the need to adopt a special civility which can only be found in an army cantonment.
Later on, corpers could take pictures with soldiers when the commandant had told the soldiers to relax.
But at that entry day, those boys fully partook of the pot of punishment which was served by the soldier.

To be continued in later posts
#BASHORUN

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