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Monday, 5 December 2016

#WisdomTablets (3)


Life itself is a Gamble
________________

You are probably yet to realize that the world is not
unlike a gambling field. And life itself is a gamble. The
truth is, irrespective of the amount of time, energy,
and resources you have sacrificed in a certain project,
if LUCK refused to shine on you, you are nowhere
close to the success room.

Luck has proven beyond doubts to be the supreme
determinant of our respective accomplishments here
on earth. Suffice it to say that if it failed to visit you,
SORRY remains your name. Worse still, it's very, very
selective, and operates beyond mankind's understanding
and imagination. You can't tell whose turn it would be the
next minute. Funnily enough, the next second could be
the turn of that person you referred to as a moron.

However, it's noteworthy that one must make a move
before luck would shine on him/her. It doesn't shine on
someone who is stationary. 'Stationary' in the sense that
you must display a reasonable effort. So, that luck exists
as well as dominates doesn't imply that you ought to await
it even when you are stagnant and docile. Don't forget,
even for luck to visit real life gamblers, they must display
convincing efforts towards emerging victorious.

Hence, summarily, you are expected to work, pray and
thereafter wait for your luck. If it doesn't shine, then keep
working and praying till it remembers you. #ThinkAboutIt


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Nigeria, Still on the Track @56

2016 Independence Anniversary Sonnet
______________________________

It's indeed a lovely day
So, love it with passion.
It doesn't look pitiable
So, why the compassion?

Nigeria as a country
Has not done badly.
So, as a people,
Let's rejoice proudly.

Please, my dear people,
Don't get me wrongly.
Because our dear country
Is still walking boldly.

I truly love this day
So, let's meet today!

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Sunday, 4 December 2016

Forbidden Fruit

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

    “Can somebody say alleluia?” Pastor Afolabi urged right from his pulpit.

    “Alleluia!” the congregants chorused unanimously in a high tone.

    “Can someone shout a bigger alleluia?”

    “Alle – lu – ia!!” they reiterated in a more thunderous tone.

    “The Lord is good.” shouted Pastor Afolabi who wore white suit alongside white plain trousers and black plain shoes.

    “All the time.” They followed suit as the tradition requested.

    Pastor Ken Afolabi, a 48-year-old father of five, of the Jehovah Rescue International Church was a well-known ordained man of God who was seen by all and sundry, both within and beyond, as a man who knew his onions. Everyone including the onlookers felt elated whenever they had a glance of him; needless to state that he wasn’t just highly respected but a reputable cleric. He spent most of his time conducting deliverance among members of his church’s congregation who yearned for such as well as invariably took time to let impecunious individuals understood that the sky was their stepping stone if they so believed. This singular feature of his person made people, particularly the economically less-privileged, see him as a god-sent.

    “Good morning, Pastor.” Mrs Kemi greeted, head bent immediately after the church service.

    She had walked up to him the moment he stepped out of the church building, about entering his private car.

    “Good morning, madam…” he responded cheerfully. “Mrs Kolawole, right?” He quickly recollected, pointing one of his left fingers at her.

    “Yes Pastor.” She clarified, waist bent as a mark of respect.

    Mrs Kemi Kolawole was one of the staunch members of the church that could boast of about three hundred consistent worshippers.

    “Hope all is well?” Pastor Afolabi inquired, stylishly leaning on his ash Toyota Corolla car.

    “Pastor, I will like to see you.” She hinted, standing about a metre away from him.

    Mrs Kemi got married to her lovely husband Mr Gbenga Kolawole three years back; the couple was yet to boast of a baby’s cry, and it presumed that no pregnancy was forthcoming. They thought it wise that it was high time they sought the cleric’s intervention, spiritual wise, after series of persuasions from the affected woman. The partners, who wedded at the said church, met each other there prior to their union; so they could confide in the cleric for any kind of consultation.

    “Okay,” the resplendent Pastor Afolabi replied. “Let’s meet in my office tomorrow being Monday.”

    “Around what time, Sir?” the 37-year-old Mrs kemi enquired, stood still.

    “Would 10am be okay by you?”

    “Yes Pastor.”

    “Okay then,” he said, shook his car keys. “Let’s meet by 10.” He landed, dashed into the car.

    “Thank you, Sir.” She appreciated, majestically took her leave.

    The following day, they met as scheduled. During the meeting, having disclosed to the cleric her mission, he suggested deliverance for her which according to him would be due after a rigorous seven days fasting and prayer to be observed by the couple. In addition, he told her that while the proposed fasting period lasts, she would be expected to spend her days and nights in the church, after which she would be eligible to go home.

    After all said and done, few weeks later, Mrs kemi took in; the segment ushered in a jubilation galore in her matrimonial home. Nine months on, she successfully gave birth to a bouncing baby girl. She was named Opeyemi.

    At this time, her hubby Mr Kolawole couldn’t hesitate to disclose to everyone that came to cheer with the family that Pastor Afolabi was the brain behind the family’s emancipation.

    Subsequently, in four years time, the couple Mr & Mrs Kolawole could boast of three children – two males and a female.

    Opeyemi the first child and only daughter of the couple wasn’t academically bright, hence they considered sending her to a boarding school where she would be closely monitored towards attaining academic excellence, though the school she was sent to – Greater Children Primary School was also situated in Ekiti State, South-West, Nigeria, where her parents hailed from and lived too. When she got to 11 years, she proceeded her secondary education in Greater Teenagers Secondary School, a sister school to the former, founded by the same proprietor.

    Coincidentally, Pastor Ken Afolabi was in good terms with the Proprietor of the aforesaid schools, Chief Dan Olabiyi. So the cleric usually went to both schools, which were situated in the same compound, to counsel the pupils and students. This was one of the reasons Opeyemi’s parents sent her to the school.

    At 17, Opeyemi wasn’t living up to the expectations, most especially regarding her social life; and she alongside her peers were preparing for their Senior Secondary Certificate Examinations (SSCE). Hence, her Principal sent her to Pastor Afolabi’s office for private counselling, and deliverance if necessary, as it was often done in the school. The cleric never knew the girl’s parental background and he wasn’t bothered to ascertain either.

    Having met the cleric, it was assumed that all her problems had been solved. Funnily enough, few weeks later, Opeyemi tested positive to pregnancy; the diagnosis, which was conducted by the effort of her school’s management, was occasioned by the abrupt weird attitudes of the teenager.

    When the news was broken to her parents Mr & Mrs Kolawole, it was like the end of the world for the family. Everything was ostensibly happening at breakneck speed.

    When interrogated by her parents right before the school’s management, Opeyemi disclosed unequivocally that Pastor Ken Afolabi was solely responsible for the pregnancy.

    “What…?” Her mother, Mrs Kemi managed to exclaim, passed out instantly.

    Everybody stared at the poor girl in silent awe.

    The untold truth remained that Opeyemi was Pastor Afolabi’s daughter; a secret only known and kept by the cleric and Opeyemi’s mum, Mrs. Kemi Kolawole. That very week 17-years back when she was placed on a compulsory one-week fasting, which made her to spend nights at the church, owing to her alleged inability to conceive, the cleric convinced her to sleep with him, stating that that was the only way she could take in; and the hidden melodrama yielded Opeyemi.

     But as God would have it, Opeyemi’s siblings were Mr Kolawole’s biological children; which implied that the couple was just impatient or in a hurry to have a child.

     Opeyemi was raped by the so-called pastor - her supposed biological father, right in his office on that very day she was sent to him by her school’s principal. She was urged by the randy cleric not to discuss the incident with anybody, unknowingly to him that the unwarranted tango would yield a forbidden fruit.

     So, are we to charge the cleric for deceit, infidelity, adultery, rape, incest, paedophilia, or what have you? Think about it!

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