CAMP FORTY

CAMP FORTY

CAMP FORTY

My childhood friends were once inseparable. We not only grew up together but we were constantly engaged in each other’s in lives. As a result, we thought it swell to have a weekend slumber party, and catch up with one another last Christmas. Moreover, we figured that we should embark on a camping trip for once in our lives, yet not into the woods like real campers do, but house camping, that was close to our beds. Thus, Bena was one of my longtime childhood friends, suggested a pajama party in her ginormous garage for an entire weekend, and since we were three single ladies, we found the freedom to set up tent, and dubbed the experience as Camp Forty, based on the fact that we were all in our forties. As one would expect, all was going well at our friendship camp, where we bonded in our Camp Forty adventure, while we reminisced of the old simple days. Needless to say, the pitch camp escapade was going so well, up until we started getting into each other's personal business, as women tend to do.

Consequently, our conversations turned sour, so much so that after twenty hours into the seventy-two hours of camping, all our claws were out, and ready for a cat fight, making the campsite unfit for habitation. I already knew that our back and forth bickering would happen, right after Bena and Flo went back in time, to the graveyard, to exhume dusty skeletons of their ex-factors, each time the bitter subject of their entanglements with those bad boys. In addition, I dreaded waiting for the mention of the names of some two hoodlums, who Bena and Flo dated eons ago, before a blood bath would ensue. In all honestly, these two hoodlums have always been a subject of controversy since our childhood, and their topic has always been raw and painful to our mouths. In that moment of conflict, time seemed to have frozen, as Bena and Flo's mood became so ice cold toward each other, that I had to call a time out, but before I could put my opinion across to these two rivals, pounced on me with vicious attacks.

At first, I thought that Bena would tear me to pieces and feed me to the wolves, with sheer ferocity. On the contrary, it was Flo who actually turned against me, by spitting venomous words against me. Firstly; she attacked my hair, then my sobriety, next she went for my singletude, before she made a mockery of my new found purpose of being a teacher, by harshly stating that, "At least Bena and I have tasted love and marriage, unlike you Aunty Betty, who is always giving your unsolicited advice to unsuspecting souls." This vile Flo was determined to cut me deep but thank God for my natural shock absorbers, that were matured by years of traumatic life experiences, skilled clap backs, expert come backs, and hardcore stoicism, Lucky for me, I was able to beautifully retaliate and hit back at the crude remarks rendered to me by Flo. As you can you imagine, this dear friend of mine, actually neglected her lucrative career, in order follow some strange fellow, a bohemian kind of a man living in utopia, on some wild goose chase, in the middle of nowhere, with the vision of nurturing wild horses! Are there even wild horses in sub-Sahara Africa? Yet, if there are any horses, I would bet on my new found purpose, that Flo had never seen any type of horse breed with her naked eyes, let alone rode on one.

Well, at least Aunty Betty is a darn near counsellor or teacher for humans. Nevertheless, what does Flo know about horses, except for the ones she has watched on the national geographic channel? Yet, I am very much convinced that Flo’s hipster lover, had brainwashed her into believing that she was some sort of a mystic horse whisperer, called on by the universe to help the endangered species. Perhaps there was a glimpse of the truth to her magical powers. Nonetheless, why could she not also find it in her big heart, to initiate a just cause of helping all the maltreated donkeys parading down her hometown, pulling water carts all day long? At any rate, Camp Forty had melted, became fiery hot, and thus was intolerable for habitancy.

Meanwhile, at that volatile moment, Flo and I had morphed into grim and evil, parading our dirty linen in public, while Bena was screamed at the top of her lungs, in order to stop our verbal fight. No sooner had Bena let out a loud shriek, than we stopped squabbling, perplexed by her thunderous voice, which carried harsh words of rebuke, that unfolded in this manner, “Both of you are worse than children! You Flo, are a sucker for love, and you Betty, are a lonely coward!" To put it briefly, Bena’s critical words to Flo and I were raw, uncensored, and cut deep like a knife. Nonetheless, what did she mean when she said that I was a coward?

However, before I got the chance to speak, Flo leaped on Bena like a savage, throwing shade and pouring all her tea on the ground, with such cruelty that I was taken aback by her mean streak, and derogatory words to poor Bena, which threatened to rip their friendship apart. "All you know to do Bena, is give birth to children, sit home, to watch Telemundo, and wait for your ex-husband to send your monthly support check. I mean, have you ever worked a day in your life?!" That statement directed to Bena by Flo, was a low blow that even Flo felt miserable, soon as the statement left her mouth. The truth was that with six children, Bena was forced by circumstances to become a stay home mother, while her former husband went to work. But soon enough, the very famous doctor fell in love with the house help, divorced Bena, and married the young uneducated lass, all to our shock. Since then, it had been over twelve years but still, who can ever easily forget being dumped by a rich man, for a village girl?

All in all, why is it that we females cannot behave like males do, forgetting about silly old grudges, and fist pumping to the new times? Instead, we women hold grudges for years, and always looking for any opportunity to bring them up every time our super egos are challenged. Dear God, sometimes I despise the company of women, for it draws me back to those high school days, whereby there has to be the leader of the pack, and everything else was a competition. Well, I guess after that wild exchange we had among us three, we were forced to decamp, went our separate ways, and slid back to our boring lives. So much for a lasting friendship. Perhaps the next time we do decide to talk to one another like human beings, it would be over drinks, when one of us loses their pride, and invites the rest of us for a healing soirée.

THE MURKY AFRICAN JOB MARKET

THE MURKY AFRICAN JOB MARKET

THE MURKY AFRICAN JOB MARKET

The employment market in Africa has always been a bleak sphere of stunted growth for any struggling African, and all because the entire African matrix system is severely skewed, and hence can never be a level playing field, especially so for the ordinary civilians. This fun fact I know, because I lived it, by spending all my child-bearing years, perpetually on a job hunt, pacing back and forth on route eleven, tarmacking really hard, in the hope of landing on any available position, and for what? At that rate, I felt I needed; an ancestor pass, ritual offerings, a warlock’s ring, anointing oil from a prophet’s wand, and ties to a mob, in order for me to magically qualify for anything jobwise. Nonetheless, before I could even get the mystical job connect, I had to first face a rigid panel of interviewers, who had the organization's authority to bombard me with cringe worthy questions, that make up for television entertainment.

A case in point is a job opportunity, which I applied for, once upon a wrinkle in time, within my locality. Sadly, for me, I had to face a body of queriers, the kind who make you wish you were born into royalty, so as not to face the kind of public scrutiny subjected to the have nots. The first question to the grave interview was, "What was the occupation of your great grand-mother, on your father's side?", some overzealous cuss in the team of quizmasters dared to ask me, as if he was planning on granting my late Nana the job instead of me. The truth is that I never my great grandmother, on account that she had already passed on, long before I even was born. Moreover, I had never really thought to inquire about her life. Consequently, did my lack of knowledge of the career of my ancestor, disqualify me from working in that particular local company? Actually, my late Nana and I are worlds apart, for we are of different generations. Therefore, what was the point of this question?

Another callous examinant in the board poked at my nearly perfect resumé and posed yet another irate question, leaving me feeling more vexed than I already was. “It says here in your CV that you only have five years’ experience, yet we are looking for one who has forty years of experience. So, how do you figure?" Perhaps I have exaggerated this second question, still it is not that far-fetched, particularly so when you have been a job seeker as long as I have been under the African sun, because this type of question is designed to knock one off the competition, for the job spot. Anyway, did you get to thoroughly read the question at hand? Can someone please call on all the available mathematicians, because the math is not mathing. As a result, I was so perplexed by this line of questioning, that I had to pose one for the inquisitors that went this way, “I am sorry sir, but did you mean forty years of age or forty years of work experience? Because clearly none of you who sit before me is a day over fifty years, thus how am I expected to have forty years of work experience, when I am only forty years old? Even your company has been in operation for a little over ten years, hence I do not understand this line of questioning you people have.” Ah! These African panelists darn near killed me with their dramatic questions.

By now, you all should be aware that all the above questions were set to debar one, so that the hiring company can fulfil their quota, while they help find their relatives find lucrative job positions. But before I could take a breather, this council of interrogators pelted me with another archaic question, which read like this, “Who was the first local Chief of this Ward?" Again, what is with all these ancestral questions? Honestly, I did not understand why these interviewers loved to go back in time, instead of forging ahead to embrace the future. Although, if I did not have the answer to this next question, then it meant that my chances of securing that job opportunity at hand, were close to none. Having said that, unless I had documented information about the local Chief in question, then there is no way I would have known who he was, if he ever existed. Regardless, where would I find information about the local Chief from, aside from a series of dilapidated photographs stemming from the colonial days? Perhaps the Chief in question is related to the owners of the company, hence the interviewers' prior knowledge of who the Chief was. Hence, why ask such an irrelevant question to a millennial? 

The next obvious question thrown at me was, “You’ve listed para-gliding, kayaking, and bungee-jumping, as your hobbies. Can you explain what these activities are in general?", glared the curious panelist in askance, at my resumé. Even I was not ready for the set question, since it was not my intention to provide them with my internationally-crafted resumé, as opposed to my locally-configured resumé, that suited the current job position. Anyway, the short answer was that these white-painted hobbies were sort of in my bucket list of futuristic plans. Thus, what I meant to list as my hobbies were the usual; reading books, writing journals, and watching informative documentaries. Needless to say, I was put on task, to explain my mystic hobbies, and as soon I did, the whole panel looked at me with contempt, like Joseph the dreamer, who told his brothers of his big dreams, and they all mocked him in ignorance. Anyhow, I was not offended at all by their silent judgements of my white hobbies, even though I was perturbed by their clueless demeanours.

Needless to say, there were so many malformed questions thrown at me but the wildest one, by the last panelist was, "Why are you not married at your age?" I guess this question was the very one that broke the camel's back, and thereby destroyed my chances at securing the coveted job position. In a word, my diplomatic response to their invasive marital question was, “I am not married, because I am waiting on God’s divine timing.” I would have stood up to leave at that juncture, yet good manners, coupled with a few ethical values did not allow my pride to get the best of me. I know that you too reading this could be offended on my behalf, but in Africa, this is the norm, and the unwritten rule to which your level of growth and maturity is measured by your marital status. I guess these rejective panelists would have gladly overlooked the many faults which they considered me to have including, the strange hobbies I listed on my resumé for their perusal, as well as my blasé attitude, with regards to my ancestry but for some harsh reasons, they would not wish to overlook my singletude.

Perhaps, these team of panelists mistook me for a free-spirited hippie, or a recluse battling an existential crisis, yet I believe that too much education, exposure, and a thirst for more knowledge, was what set me on the journey of self-discovery. Nevertheless, I did not blame these set of Africans for their skewed depiction of me, because in their world, I was a conundrum but, in my world, I was just Ms. Betty Baijun. All in all, if you are wondering, I did not get the job. Apparently, I was overqualified for it, and therefore, they thought it wise to award the next best person, and most probably one who did not threaten their worldly position. Oh, well, I went back to tarmacking, and yes, I had better luck in the next job hunt.

THE GODS ARE ANGRY

THE GODS ARE ANGRY

THE GODS ARE ANGRY

I am at loss as to why the gods have for ages been deemed to be an angry lot. Long time ago, possibly before Christ, our ancestors believed that nothing seemed to please the gods, not the numerous sacrifices that were rendered to them, nor the constant praises given to them by men. But why were these medieval gods always invariably angry? Long before the days of antiquity, the possibility of gratifying these ancient gods was close to none, yet these ancient gods were supposed to be a source of great help and protection. Is it not ironic that these deities were supposed to be divine, yet anger was their best-known emotion? Moreover, if the gods are known to be eternally angry, then what are we mortals supposed to do about it? Ever since I was a child, learning about my spiritual heritage, all I ever heard about these immortals, was their constant need to be appeased.

What’s more, these primeval gods often spoke through their oracles, who were also the high priests, commanding my ancestors to make major sacrifices, each and every single waking moment, to which I would have strongly objected to, had I been in existence at the time, to witness their tyrannical demands. Anyway, the gods would send a forlorn diviner, out the blue sky, and into the village square, with a sombre look, and a disturbing message at hand, which read something like this, "Our land has not received rain for close to a year, because the gods are angry at us. So therefore, let us quench their wrath, by giving them our newborns." My people, please forgive me for being too forward, but I do not understand what the correlation is, between ritual sacrifice and gratification of these pantheon of gods. I mean, must mortals forever lose their souls, in order for these amoral gods to be content?

You see, this is why I am also angry at these perennial spirits too, for their burdening requests for appeasement are outrageous. It could be true that the cultural gods helped us to overcome the desert sand storm, which devastated our harvest two hundred years ago. Therefore, must we always self-sacrifice, because the gods performed a righteous cause on our behalf? Moreover, are we obligated to pay through our noses, in order for the gods to help prosper our lives? At this rate, we humans might as well leave it to fate, to guide us wherever the wind blows, or is fate another one of these incautious gods? As a result, I made a point of consulting our resident oracle, one who is the mouthpiece for the gods, as to the reason why these deities were ever angry, because all I ever witnessed the stoic seer declare, were the laws of the gods, by which our tribal community was founded. Nonetheless, and by far, it is the inhumane taboos which annoyed me the most, but I digress.

In any case, this is the reason why the oracle does not like my rebellious nature, of questioning the status quo, with regards to the ways of the gods. This mystic seer once rebuked me for being overly inquisitive, and warned me that, “You do not know the forces you are messing with, by trying to defy the dictates of the gods. If you keep going against the set rules, the gods will unleash their wrath upon you.”, hissed the irate seer, to yours truly. Just like the oracle, the gods too were angry with me, for questioning their wisdom, but what is new? Whether I speak my mind or not, will their anger ever subside? According to the seer, I was authorized to offer a white hen, as a cleansing sacrifice, before I could purify myself down by the village pool, with special soap, in order that the indignation of the gods against me would diminish. Look my people, I did not mean to be rude to the seer, yet I felt the need to tell him off politely, because what he was suggesting for me to do, smelled like extortion.

Nevertheless, what do the gods need a white hen for anyway? Do they know just how much a hen costs, in these dire economic times? On the contrary, had they asked me to apologize for being oddly inquisitive, I would have gladly complied. However, for them to demand for an offering, because of my blatant curiosity, is a tad bit covetous. What’s more, do not also forget the unique soap for my supposed cleansing ritual costs money, and therefore, I would rather buy the hen to consume it, and the soap to wash my body with, rather than waste these precious items on some spiritual quest for an energy cleanse. Needless to say, I took chances with my new age opinions, stood my Christian ground, and let the moral chips fall where they did. Sometimes, I do envy the white man, particularly the one who considers himself an atheist, because unlike me, he does not care much for tradition or spirituality.

Further, the reason as to why I reference a white man, is because it is on a very rare occasion that you will ever encounter an African who publicly proclaimed themselves to be an atheist. Nevertheless, if you have met an atheist African, then best believe that he is an Alien breed. Anyhow, as a matter of fact, the white atheist does not believe in the traditional gods of this world, hence he does not care for any religious philosophies, which he deems them to be outdated, and therefore inconsequential to his budding life. In actuality, he is free to be who he wants to be, and choose to live as per his will. To most of us who have lived all our lives inside a religious bubble, know just how hard it is to spread our wings, and fly outside of the religious mindset we are bound to. Even if one should be so benevolent, as to emancipate us from this religious mental slavery, and then what? Are we then supposed to pray to ourselves? Should we then consider ourselves as gods? If so, then that would be outright a terrible abomination or sacrilege, at most. Even the thought of it, is somewhat unnerving. 

Either way, what we mortals need are devoted gods who will show a little compassion to the human race, for we already live in a cruel world, full of pain and sorrow. Thus, what good will it do to us, to have unsympathetic gods who are quick to punish us for every little thing? Needless to say, we humans are not perfect, and as a result, are prone to making mistakes. Hence, we need affectionate gods who will step in to help us, and not castigate us every chance they get. Ultimately, we do not need gods who are indifferent to the human race, but we need gods who are benevolent.

 

 

WOLVERINES

 WOLVERINES

Have you ever noticed just how tactical most predators are, as they appear from the shadows, to mercilessly devour a wounded defenseless animal? As soon as they smell blood on the raw flesh of the scarred prey, and sense fear in their heart, they immediately show their carnivorous nature, as they move with cold stealth against the weak herbivore, with a mission to kill. It is the same with humans with a werewolf persona, who creep in the dark, awaiting for the downfall of their targets of envy, before they can show, face and feed off the negativity, and trauma of those they loath. Be careful of the wolves in your vicinity, for in the light of day, they wear masks to hide their identity, but in the still of the night, they come out to slay naïve souls with a cold vengeance.

These veracious wolves are the very ones who would make blood vows and bind themselves to deathly oaths, just to see their pre-conceived enemies fall. They will even go so far as to conjure up spells that chain their imagined foes, so that they live lives full misery and servitude. The most unfortunate part of being a prey is that you do not see these ravening wolves coming, as they are most often veiled in charm, beauty, and deceit, which is paradoxical, because they hate beauty, and are disgusted by love. What's more, they see love as a form of weakness, and hate more particularly those that ooze it, for they are envious of the fact that they themselves are no capable of generating the same kind of love. In fact, they walk, talk, eat, and sleep like evil doers, always dabbling in sorcery, so that they may sabotage, and manipulate people, to fall from grace. Evidently, everything these depraved wolves think or do is evil continually. They never have anything good to say about others, and soon as they catch a ray of sunshine crowning a soul's head, they quickly jump to block it out. God forbid that they should sense a glimmer of hope in one's aura, because they will work quickly to try to snuff it out.

These savage wolves are demon seeds, the spawn of the devil, ferocious blood-sucking monsters, diabolical and overall bedeviled lycans, who eat out of the devil's pot, with no remorse, while they target to silence God's lambs, without batting an eyelid. Never mistake their kindness for goodness, or else you will become a victim of their devious schemes. Moreover, their words are malicious, as their souls are darkened by the cardinal sins, and one jab of their poisonous lies will destroy the faith of many men. These hell-infested wolves hate humanity but what they abhor more, is the divine light found in children of God. When they see God's sheep beam and shine, all they can do is obsess about how they can siphon that abundant glory onto themselves. Best believe that these killer wolves get no wink of sleep, constantly lying awake in the night, plotting and planning on how to dim the light of God from His chosen, for their light reminds them of how vile, conniving, and cold-hearted they really are, and how they can never be children of the light, because they gave themselves over to darkness.

Heavens forbid that any of God's children be at the mercy of these wolverines, depending on their generousity, and co-dependent upon their energy. They will for sure not hesitate to take away their power, damage their souls, silence their voice, and put out their light. As for you, blessed one, you have to know how to make strategic moves against your nemeses, lest they drive swords into your back, and slay you before your time. The very first cardinal rule is to have ample knowledge and wisdom about your enemy. It has been frequently said that knowledge is power. Hence, most battles are majorly won by wit, as opposed to strength. Further, when you engage with your enemy in full wisdom, then you have already won half the battle. The second most important rule is, to never show up in a fight all alone. This means that you need strong allies to aid you win a battle, and who better to back you up than God Almighty Himself? With God by your side, the battle is already won.

Wolves are always hidden in plain sight. How you spot them is, by tracing their parasitic ways and leeching mentality. The third and most crucial rule is, to never become friends, co-sign a business, or worse, marry a wolf, because it will be to your own detriment. Remember that wolverines have nothing worthwhile to give you but a life full of pain, and heartache. In fact, they will take everything from you but will give you nothing in return. Nevertheless, if you do happen to fall in love with a wolverine, then best know that they will use your love as an opportunity to entrap you. Moreover, should you decide to look out for a wolverine, and then best believe that they will only look out for themselves. Further, if you are a constant source of money supply for a wolverine, then best count on them to drive you into debt. What's more, if you give your heart to a wolverine, then best wait for your takedown, for they will sacrifice your life for their own life.

No battle has ever been won in weakness or cowardice. Even the kingdom of heaven suffered violence, and only the violent do take it by force. In a word, you always have to be battle ready, and when the situation requires of you to fight, just like your enemies morph into lycanthropes for an attack, you also have to transform into a lion, in order to defeat your enemies. Unlike the wolverines, your warfare is fought on your knees. That means you have to be solely dependent on God, for these battles are most often spiritual, and therefore you cannot solve a spiritual problem with a physical ideology, for you will always loose.

That is why, as a lamb, God Almighty is your shield and protector. Know this that the wolverines know and understand about the light of God, and what it does to their crude souls. Many before you have fought the wolverines, and lost the fight, while others joined in and became one with them. Yet, a few won against these wolves, turned their kingdom down, and lived to tell the great story of how they overcame. It is not an easy road to travel in life, where wolves are constantly lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce and take your life away. Hence, you must be vigilant, as the bible says that we should be as cunning as a serpent, while we remain as humble as a dove.

THE MAN OF YOUR DREAMS

THE MAN OF YOUR DREAMS

I have to start this creative piece, by being honest with all you my dear ladies. Many of us always claim that we desire Prince Charming to be the man of our dreams, when we darn well know that the Dark Knight is whom we mostly admire, and want to be with. The truth is that the Dark Knight can play us like a fiddle, and we will still gift him a mix tape of our favorite love songs. Come on ladies, you know that I am right. Prince Charming is safe and boring. Moreover, he is intentional, and loves you dearly, yet you cannot help yourself but crave for that non-committal player. Many times, you wish you would just infuse that rude boy's personality into the mind of your Prince Charming, just so that you can enjoy the best of both worlds. However, unfortunately for you, the choice is always of one, because you cannot have your cake and eat it, for Prince Charming has a good head on his shoulder, and therefore refuses to be juggled, or play the part of a substitute lover.

So, why then does Prince Charming have to be so terribly rigid? Why would he not just break character for once, and live a little? Yes, he is very respectful and stable, which is what you mostly admire about him. Nonetheless, he is so stiff such that if he became any stiffer, he would snap like a twig. Moreover, Prince Charming is your safety net, of which you cannot afford to lose, and therefore you must make it work with him, for the long-term benefits. You know that he is a man of law and order, and every step he takes or every move he makes, has to follow divine guidance. What's more, should you for a moment let him slip or slide from under you, you will find out that in no time, some Sunny Sue did snatch your Prince from under your nose. Nevertheless, the walk down the aisle with Prince Charming seems like a punishment, for when will you ever get the chance to play and live life, with Captain Stiff by your side?

Furthermore, when you think of longevity with Prince Charming, you feel a little cold, and cannot help but fantasize about your other option. At least the Dark Knight radiates fire, even though you are somewhat afraid of it burning you to ashes. It is obvious that you and your playboy are a complete mismatch, a bad idea, and an unsafe combination. You already know that the Dark Knight would very much like to cast you in the next tragic episode of fatal attraction, where you will the victim of a toxic love affair, and he will be the man that leaves you on red, who will also be on the run from the scene of crime, having backstabbed and betrayed you one too many times.

Yet, you are more willing to forgive him when he calls you out of the blue, three months after you had a mental breakdown, and despite of the red flags waving hard in your face, you will still go running back to his mouse trap, knowing very well that he will never change. Nevertheless, you like the thrill of the chase, and you are addicted to the pain and the drama, which keeps you in a trauma, worsened by the lies he feeds you. Further, you are obsessed with his pathological nature, and just when you think you can survive another emotional rollercoaster, you end up in that sunken place, but only this time, you drown from this crazy love affair. Deep within your heart, you hate the Dark Knight with the same intensity of love you have for him, and on goes, the sickening love-hate dynamic you both are chained to.

Nonetheless, when you are at depths of sorrow, crying over a man who has depleted you, and who does not care to love you the way you deserve, it is Prince Charming you always run back to for healing. It is the prince who is normally left in your corner, to mend the pieces of your broken heart. You know well that how you treat him is unfair, yet you always run to him, like Olive Oyl always does to Popeye, not only for his healing energy, but to also keep you safe from that barbaric Bluto. Yes, Prince Charming is the hero in your story, but he is dull and boring to you, and that fact does not seem to change, no matter how hard you wish upon a star, in order to change his personality, because you hold no such power. At this point, so many of those sad love songs come to mind, that make me wonder if this crazy love is a worldwide phenomenon.

Riddle me this my dear, exactly what do you see in that Dark Knight anyway? What is it about him that has had you stuck on stupid? Why would you want to risk your golden crown for a bad romance? Why would you want to jeopardize a lifetime of happiness, for fleeting moments of barbaric pleasure? Come on Princess, is this bad boy worth you risking your happily ever after? You know that I am asking you all the right questions, yet I am not sure whether or not you are hard of hearing, with your logic being stuck in the mud, while your emotions are hard bent on running wild.

To tell you the truth, it will take for you to loose Prince Charming for good, in order for you to come to your senses. After all, experience is the best teacher. To you, I am merely barking but when the universe finally steps in to take away your excellent opportunity, that is when you will wish to turn back the time, yet you already know that you can never bank upon wishes. Further, no amount of crying, chasing, and begging will let you out of that rut this time, once the door to Prince Charming's heart is completely shut for good. After all, you had excessively many chances to love him right but you did not, therefore, you snooze, you lose, dear sister.

Eventually, when you lose Prince Charming, due to immaturity on your part, I am afraid that the pain you will experience will be far worse compared to the pain that the Dark Knight put you through. As a result, your pain will turn into resentment, and then transform into sheer hatred, especially for the Dark Knight. However, this time round, you will finally see your wanderlust for who is really is, a bad omen, yet the damage will have already been done, and you, my dear princess, will have no one to blame but yourself.

Consider this, that when God finally lifts off your karma, after all your debts are paid in full, and all your hard knock life lessons are successfully learnt, He will perhaps send a King your way, the man of your dreams, as part of His redemption plan for your love life. Only this time, I am certain that you, my dear sister, will cherish the King better, and swear to never make the painful mistakes of the past, because you have finally grown to maturity, and gloriously transformed into a Queen.

A BLAST FROM THE PAST AND REBOUNDS

A BLAST FROM THE PAST AND REBOUNDS

After two divorces, six children, and two alimony payments, all over sudden Kunle, my soul kryptonite, has had an epiphany about us. He wants us to reconcile and relive our part-time love all over again. I guess rejection, is God's protection, right? Well, it is most definitely a rebound proposal on Kunle's part for sure. Of all his past ex-factors, he only thought to call me, for a reunion. Yet, once upon a time, Kunle was convinced that Mera, his first wife, was the one, his divine rib, until she viciously dragged him to court, wringed his pockets, and took him for all he had. Then he met Doro, who broke his heart, and left him struggling financially.

Now, he has become a nuisance, blowing up Betty Baijun's phone as if his life depended upon me. At this point, I am not sure whether to laugh at the irony, or cry at his selfish intent. Furthermore, Kunle is hoping that I will still be smitten enough to set myself on fire, in order to keep him warm. Nonetheless, I am still ignoring his never-ending calls for a reunion, as I do not wish to meddle in Kunle's emotional affairs. I also do not want to keep biting the poison apple, which keeps making me sick, to the point of losing my senses. Besides, I am trying to move on from my past, after twenty years of still trying to move on. I even turned into an ice queen, in order to wade off his advances, but unfortunately, for me, all the ice melted to water, with a simple hello on his part.

What can I say? I am seriously whipped, and totally sprung on Kunle. Yet, he insists that I am not being fair to him, by persistently rejecting his obvious attempts to bag me once again. Kunle is relentlessly trying to offer me his cup of love, yet the cup seems broken, and the love is non-existent. All his lies, fairy tales, and fallacies are still ringing loud in my head years on end. Thus, I am not trying to be anyone's rebound, even though Kunle is bent on forcing me into that sticky situation.

"Look Kunle, I have issues of my own, and therefore, I do not care to bear yours!” I told him off loudly inside my head, and deep within my thoughts. I obviously cannot voice out my reservations about him to his face, for the reasons that; I am too chicken to do so, and it is rude to do so, and that he is clearly in a pickle. The truth is that I cave every time I am in Kunle's presence, and after two long decades, this man still has a hold on me. In fact, it is because of him, that I cringe hard at love songs, and everything sentimental, for it is a cold reminder of unfulfilled love, which always leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

Fortunately, for me, I moved far away from my hometown, therefore, Kunle would not know how to locate me, no matter how hard he tried, that is, unless he went fishing for my private information amidst my siblings. Darn! This man wants me to flip and transform me into that naïve school girl once, again for his own barbaric pleasure. Nevertheless, I will not give in to his trappings. Rather, I must stay the cause, stand my ground, ignore his existence, until he gives up, and moves on to someone else. Strangely, I wonder why I am so tempted by this ex-factor. Why am I not able to let him down easy, by lying to him that I am happily committed in my non-existent relationship? "Kunle, I am sorry but I am seeing someone and we are very happy together!” is the set plan on my mind to lie to Kunle, in case we accidentally bump into each other.

The truth is that I do not wish to be the next ex-wife of Kunle, not that he has ever asked me to be his wife, though I am anticipating his next move, which is also a fantasy running through my head. Nevertheless, what is wrong with me? I am a well-bred, educated, and hyper-independent type of lass, therefore, I do not need Kunle to come and shake my kingdom down, by making me crumble at his handsome face and charming smile. On the contrary, I should in fact give other few good men a chance at my love, and stop daydreaming about this disheartened brother. What's more, it is bad enough that I have issues of vulnerability, and it is even worse that Kunle keeps swinging back at one, to poke at my wounds.

That is why I am constantly running away from him, putting up walls, and fortifying my boundaries, just in case of any possible triggers on my part. Hence, I really must emotionally move on from Kunle, and completely, and permanently end this cycle of an emotional roller coaster. Actually, I am well deserving of good loving, than breadcrumbs, with a sip of cheap ale. "I hate to do this to you Kunle, but I must move on, for my own sake", said I to Kunle deep within my thoughts. As a result, I am finally releasing myself from the friend zone, which Kunle had conveniently pushed me into for years, and taking all the benefits with me. No more playing nice, freely giving all of myself, and getting nothing in return.

Furthermore, it is high time that I google on how to take an eat, pray, love journey, for the sake of my future. As for Kunle, he has no choice but to lean on his other friends or family. I bet you that my girls will be proud of me, for finally taking a stand against my never-ending entanglement with Kunle. "You deserve better Betty Baijun. Leave that ungrateful man in the dust, where he belongs", spoke the voices of all my caring friends to me, inside my head. I am mostly proud of me, for finally learning how to love myself. It is a slow journey though, but I am taking it one day at a time. However, I am still afraid of reverting back to my old ways of being Kunle's backup plan but in case I do, please pray for me, or slap me senseless, whichever way you prefer, if only to bring me back to reality.

At this point, I could blame the devil for always dragging Kunle back into my life, every time I feel ready to walk on sunshine. Yet, just when I am at the brink of moving to better people, places, and things, Kunle re-appears into my life, like the ghost from the past. Yet, as soon as I am caught up again in the rapture of Kunle's unrequited love, he turns ghost on me again, and once again, I return to that sunken place, where I am left to pick up the pieces of my broken heart.

Well, it does not matter anymore, for this moment in time; I am determined to have my happy ending, now that I have learnt to love myself unconditionally, because I am a queen. "Goodbye Kunle, and I do wish you nothing but peace and happiness", I finally bid farewell to Kunle in my heart. Whoever said that freedom is coming tomorrow was right. My tomorrow begins today, with a happy smile and a merry heart. Therefore, perhaps I will be together with Kunle in the next lifetime. However, for now, I am ready for a new start, I am willing to go the distance, and I am definitely determined to ride this life, on my newfound wings!

 

 

THE MARRIAGE ACT

 THE MARRIAGE ACT

With the institution of marriage being so saturated with clueless adults, who go into it without proper knowledge or understanding, and who are not utterly equipped with the new age shock absorbers, will always come out broken, busted, and disgusted with the entire experience. These days, getting married is a risky business, because one has to literary give themselves over to another, until death comes knocking at their door. Now, a marriage contract is only meant for the mature men and women, and not grown boys and girls, desiring to play house, until they get bored, and decide to jump ship.

That is why we mortals should review the marriage act, make a few little tweaks, modify the set adjustments, and sell it as more appealing, as well as palatable for human consumption, with solid permission from God Almighty of course. Speaking of God, He is the one who created the institution of marriage and sanctified it, in order for it to be a blessing for His creation. Nonetheless, it is we humans who have ruined the holy sanctimony of marriage, disrespecting its values and principles, by breaking every rule in the marriage act book, in effect destroying they very thing that was meant to bless our lives, thereby turning it into a grimace experience.

Again, most of us have no idea as to what marriage is all about, perhaps because the importance of marriage was never taught to us, or maybe because we do not have great examples of healthy marital unions to emulate. That is why; I have come up with a few ideas that will hopefully revolutionize the change needed to make marriage a successful institution, starting with my nation at least, before I decide to go global with this ideology. However, before I share these golden nuggets of wisdom with you all, I would like to make a loud disclaimer that I, Betty Baijun, am not in any way a marriage counselor, although I do wish that I were. What's more, I am just a free thinker, with a mega mind, too many wishful ideas and a lot of creative time on my hands.

Therefore, let no one hold me responsible for any alleged future mishaps, concerning my proposal on amending the marriage act, for I am only able to lead the donkey to a stream of water, but I cannot force the donkey to drink the water. With that being said, it is my prayer that all who are already married, attempting to get married, or getting out of marriage, will benefit from this found marital philosophy, courtesy of yours truly.

Firstly, the "till death do us part" clause shall be thoroughly revised. Dear Lord, please forgive me for what I am about to recommend to your people, however I feel that I must first let you know that ever since the emergence of feminism, equality, technology and such, both men and women have become hyper independent and very individualistic. As a result, nobody wants to compromise on anything anymore. Thus, in the today's world, it is about me, myself, and I together with these humans. Also, "until death do us part", sounds like forever to the hearing many, and while it was well and good for couples in the seventeenth century to hold up marital vows for eternity, it scares the holy out of these twenty first century new age millennials, who can only commit to their smart phones, and Tiktok accounts.

Therefore, I humbly suggest that all marriage contracts should be renewed every New Year; in order to allow all the ignorant, misinformed, oppressed, suppressed, and depressed spouses the opportunity to terminate their contracts, before they suffocate and choke to death in those marital trappings, which they legally bound themselves to. Furthermore, My Lord, most people are helplessly chained to unions they cannot escape. That is why I propose that, every married person should file their renewed marital contracts, just like they file their annual taxes. Equally, anyone who will not be legally married would be considered as, persona non grata, if only to combat the spirit of confusion from wreaking havoc within the holy matrimony. In a word, there would be no marriage, without a legal marriage certificate.

The second amendment of the marriage act would be that, there should be no birthing of babies, until after five years of marriage. Before I expound further on this proposal, may I boldly proclaim that this rule would only apply to those individuals below the age of ninety years. As for the senior citizens, they would do whatever they want, at no charge. However, if legible couples are caught slipping into parenthood early on, they will attract a huge fine, for not upholding the law. For the first five years of marriage, couples would strictly be required to bond, to be well acquainted with one another, with an additional full year of mandatory back-to-back marital counseling sessions, aimed at their own marital growth. However, in case of any break ups to make-ups on their part, they will be forced repeat their five years all over again.

The third amendment of the marriage act would be that, a marriage contract should not be awarded to anyone with two divorce counts. One divorce record is forgivable but two divorce documentations will render one ineligible for marriage, and hence a permanent ban on obtaining another marriage certificate. This means, marriage would no longer be suitable for anyone with a two-count divorce stamp on their record. Instead, it would be preferable that one lives a single life, waiting for the second coming of Jesus Christ, rather than wasting precious time by frolicking in an institution, which does not suit their mindset, as well as their evolution.

The fourth and not so final amendment of the marriage act would be that, there should be no marriage contract given to anyone suspected to be engaged in a polygamous union. Yes, I said it and I fully support this notion, on account of only two people are allowed to sign a marriage contract, as God intended it. To this effect, any more parties to a marital union would be rendered as a felony. As I always tell those who care to listen to me; a romantic relationship between two lovers is considered as a partnership but a merger of three, is regarded as a crowd, a crowd of four is seen as a deadly contraption, and five people entangled in confusion, are a breeding ground for utter chaos and destruction. I rest my case.

 

THE AFRO-MANCHURIAN LEADER

THE AFRO-MANCHURIAN LEADER

The advent of colonialism, and its widespread western philosophy of democracy, ushered in a new breed of Africans, who were skewed in diplomacy, and international affairs. As a matter of fact, the Church and State are responsible for the creation of the Manchurian leader, one who is Afropean, religious, political, and pro-everything. As a result, there arose a new crop of African leaders, different from our ancestors, who were not afraid to venture into the world unknown, take on European names, adopt new gods, adorn exotic garments, and speak foreign languages. Forget magic, these Afropeans were able to conjure up new identities, to suit their modern lifestyles, absorbing the white man's system as their own, while detaching from their traditional values, deeming them as backward. As a result, the Afro-Manchurian was made, ebony on the outside, white on the inside, and everything else in between.

Fast forward to today, and what we have is a cocktail blend of Afro-Manchurian leaders who are not afraid to kill, steal, and destroy, if only to get to the top of the ladder of success, any cost, and by all means necessary. Moreover, do not let the patent African print suits fool you to believing those soggy lies they love to tell, spinning tales of deceit, of how they were born to serve our nations, using the name of God, together with the gullibility of their citizen, in order to loot the coffers in plain sight.

These Afro-Manchurian leaders need not to be mind-controlled or brainwashed, in order to be made into national puppets. As a matter of fact, one need not even go as far as threaten them with prison or sanctions, in order to get them to conform. Instead, one would just throw money at them, and watch how quickly they would lose their religion for Mammon, and pledge allegiance to whomever has the power to make it rain. African leaders fear poverty, worse than a soiled reputation, for most have experienced the ugly side of perpetual lack, and thus have come to hate it with a passion. That is why they live by the hood mentality of, get rich or die trying. In a word, Afro-Manchurian leaders are only loyal to Mammon, aside from themselves, and it shows in the way they pillage the poor, without a tinge of remorse.

Almost every election season, we always have a new crop of Afro-Manchurian leaders, who fight tooth and nail, in hope of occupying those juicy seats of power. In their heart of hearts, they believe that they are the change needed, to replace those corrupt and disloyal predecessors. Some even go as far as soliciting help from spirits, to help in their journey to leadership; however, that is beside the point. Nonetheless, when these Afro-Manchurians manage to get a taste of the power they so desire, it is as if the same Manchurian spirit takes over them, and pulls them almost immediately to join in the band wagon, and consequently, the change they so wished for, seem to be gone with the wind.

Nowadays, Afro-Manchurian leaders are in all sectors of our African economies, reading from the same script, trying to sell rocks to the common person, being blind to the plight of the underprivileged, and leading the blind into a ditch. Moreover, the more potent of a Afro-Manchurian leader one becomes, the more glass ceilings he breaks, and transforms into a gate-keeper, one who is not only disloyal but a corrupt, morphing into a lethal pawn. Once his cheques are cashed in, he is bought and paid for, by his puppet master. Hence, his job is to put on a mask, in order to align with the agenda of divide and conquer, for the sake of his lord, the rain man. Otherwise, why else would the Afro-Manchurian leader taint himself with evil, if not for his own personal gain? Is money not the motivation of this well paid marionette?

However, one would argue that any African could transform to become an Afro-Manchurian leader, because anyone can be bought, if the price is right. Still, not everyone has an insatiable thirst for wealth and power, and certainly not everyone can sell their soul for money. Contrary to popular belief, some people have good morals, albeit a handful, yet who cares about those people, when we have a legion of mindless goons bastardizing our society, for the sake of their bottom line? Need I address that ancient devil again? On the other hand, will I be accused of blaming him for everything? Well then, whom else do I blame, aside from the obvious villain? I guess this time; I will sweep him under the magic carpet, right alongside other bigger problems such as, our warped economy, as well as the never-fading communicable diseases like marasmus.

Speaking of which, it is the year 2024, and Africa is still grappling with Ebola and Malaria, much to my disappointment. It is as if the more things change, the more other things are retrogressing with rapid speed, but I digress. I wonder what our Afro-Manchurian leaders will do, when their time come to be replaced by cyborgs, and artificial intelligence. It is not a far-fetched idea, considering that we are on the verge of the creation of Afro-China, where the Orientals are slowly taking over Africa, one nation at a time. Once Africa mutates into Black China, there is no telling whether our leaders will still be economically viable, to be allowed in the seats of power.

Nonetheless, if artificial intelligence takes over our leadership, then at least our Afro-Manchurian leaders will have the Church to fall back on, for is the Church not the solution to all our continent's problems? When the Manchurian leader has exhausted all his lies, and has fallen on the wayside, he tag-teams with the Church, in order to sell God to us, hoping the we will overlook all his crimes, forgive, and forget, because after all, the Bishop has already prayed for the salvation of the Afro-Manchurian leader, he has anointed him with oil, and God has automatically pardoned his sins, therefore why then can we not extend the same grace and mercy to him, like God has? Oh, Africa? Who will save us from this Babylon system?

 

A BLACK CINDERELLA STORY

 A BLACK CINDERELLA STORY

If I was Cinderella, I would have choked the life out that cringe old step-mother, and hanged those two hag sisters on a poisonous oak tree. I figure that if I have the strength to clean house and cook, I surely do have the strength to haul three ugly heifers out of my life. This is something that any normal Ebonian girl would resort to, if she was forced to step into her glass slipper shoes, and go combat on her haters. Although, glass slippers, in the afro-universe? Mmh?! We shall soon search for their existence, as the story unfolds. Yes my people, this is yet another exclusive fairy turned folklore, by yours truly. You all know that everything changes and gains a new perspective whenever other worlds converge into the afro-universe. So, kindly bear with me, as I take you on yet another wild African adventure in to the world of Black Cinderella or to put it in simple terms, perhaps Nubirella will be a suitably mashed up name for one gentle Nubian Princess.

Like I said, there is no way I would allow some gold-digging ox of a woman to rain on my parade, while I still have breath in me. No sir, would I allow some rodent-looking hood rats to come into my palace, knock me off my throne, and turn me into a helpless maid. I do not care which magic spells they are working with, to wrestle me out of my God-given inheritance. I have all my great ancestral mothers watching over me, to clobber any type of witch attempting to steal my shine.

Not on their watch, will my god-mothers allow their own son to be reduced into a simpleton by some strange woman, whose background is unknown. For all we know, she can easily be a mami wata, although this comparison is a bit of a stretch even for me, as mami watas are known to be beautiful seductive sirens, and unlike like this loathsome maleficent.

What of my mother's people and my siblings? Where is the extended family? Surely, they cannot be missing in this context, as the afro-universe cannot function without its inflexible cultural traditions. To put it plainly, polygamy runs this afro-verse. Yet, this is not my story at all. Ofcourse, it is my duty to give you an exclusive tale of Nubirella from an African perspective, and how she finally clinched her happily ever after. Alright, now come along with me, as I take you on a journey through the afro-verse, where enchanting fairy tales turn to epic folklores.

Once upon a time, beautiful Nubirella was still mourning the loss of her beloved mother, when out of the blue, her grieving father through intense enchantment, bumped into a vile female, whom he quickly rushed into marriage with, while having acknowledged her two cocky daughters as his own. All the people of the kingdom far away wanted to know was, where did the Cruella of a step-mother emerge from? Who was her former husband? But most importantly, what magic spell did she conjure up in order to trap the poor widower in an unholy matrimony? No sooner had the wedding band slipped through her chubby hand, than her red horns began to show, leaving her new husband more vulnerable than he was before, and his only daughter to her wicked intentions.

Nonetheless, when Nubirella's grandmother got wind of the impromptu marriage between his son-in-law and the alien broad, through her cowry shells, she arose and set sail toward the kingdom far far away, in an attempt to rescue her beloved child from her wicked step-mother. Meanwhile, in the kingdom far far away, Nubirella had assumed the role of a house help, in her father's house, pandering to every whim of her jealous step-mother and her ignorant and overly pampered step-sisters, to her father's displeasure. He was at a loss of how he would be of help to her, either because he did not want to ruffle the feathers of his new wife or was under heavy mind control.

Consequently, it was Nubirella who bore the brunt of her step-mother's cruelty, not knowing how to get rid of the beautiful girl for good, so that her daughters may take her shine, as well as her inheritance. Everytime she attempted to put out the young girl's light, she instead budded and bloomed like a lotus flower, radiating in flawless beauty, while her own daughter's became more venomous and dark.

It took exactly ten solid days for Nana to reach the shores of the kingdom far far away at twilight, and just in time for the royal fire dance festival. The family of Nubirella was invited to the royal event, whereby the young Prince, among other bachelors, was expected to choose a wealthy madien to be his first wife, and Nubirella's family were to gladly attend, except for her, whose step-mother intended to keep her hidden from the royal lime light, so as not to hog all the attention, to the detriment of her unpleasant daughters. Besides, they had attained the prime age of marriage, and hence needed eligible suitors to woo them in marriage.

Nana finally arrived in the kingdom far far away, much to Nubirella's surprise, and fast spoke the mystery plan to her granddaughter at her doorstep in the same night, while the rest of her family was away attending the royal fire dance. Nana's plan was to push her grandchild into her destiny, as divine timing was nigh. Hurriedly, Nana weaved a blessing onto her granddaughter, while chanting for her ancestors to join together in on the fire dance. In the twinkle of an eye, Nubirella turned into a royal lady, with her print blue dress, raven nubilocks on her head, glass sandals on her feet, and a black Pegasus as her ride to the fire dance. So therefore, she bid her Nana farewell, as she hopped on the winged horse, which flew her off to the night festival.

When Nubirella arrived at the royal fire dance, all eyes were on her for she was a sight for sour eyes. Of course, the Prince was taken by her beauty so much that he could not help himself, and was compelled to ask her for a dance, for which she obliged him. Therefore, they danced the night away, while gazing into each other’s' eyes, and jamming to the rhythm of the music, way into the night. At exactly midnight, both the Prince and Nubirella began to slowly ascend supernaturally whisked in the air, and away from the fire dance, his crown and her glass sandals shone like gold, to the amazement of the royal guests, who gazed at them, star struck by their glorious transformation into crowned king and queen.

Next to them, were their ancestors and guardian angels who appeared in the night sky, dancing along with them in approval of their impending union. As you can imagine, all that was made wrong, suddenly became right as rain, and as the king and queen finally landed on ground, that evil step mother and her ugly ducklings had already disappeared into thin air, paving way for a happily ever after.

The moral of this story is that even African girls can transform into beautiful princesses. Also, never allow envy to drive you into dimming anyone's light, in order for yours to shine, because such a reckless action on your part will seriously backfire on you, and as a result, you will end up on the losing side of karma. End of story.

 

MEETING THE ONE

 MEETING THE ONE

Young ladies, forget what you witnessed in those romantic chick flicks, for they are a skewed version of what true love really is. Based on my wide range life experience, I can certainly affirm that one's true love does not come in a perfect package, and especially not after you whisper a short general prayer to God, expecting that He will magically shift bible verses, in order to align you to your soulmate. Indeed, if wishes were horses, we would all be riding a herd of them. Nonetheless, the reality about true love is not a fairy tale, as some deem it to be. Before you get to find your true partner, there will be many forks in the road for you to overcome, and each is designed for your painful growth. If you think that the universe will grant you the ultimate gift, before it can test your ability to recognize, accept, and keep it, then think again. The truth is that your perfect partner will be hidden from you, until you awaken to your higher self, ascend to your greater self, and pursue your calling, is when you will come across your soulmate. There are no two ways about it, where true love matters.

Therefore, get your head out of fantasy land, romanticizing everything, soon as you begin to pine for someone new. God answers our prayers for a soulmate in the most transformative way, taking you through a difficult growth process, whereby you die to the mundane, and resurrect to the ultimate purpose. God does not want to loose His soldiers to wicked souls, hence he has to work on you, until you are ready for true love. If you really desire true love, you also must be true love material, otherwise you will always be on the lowerside of the love fence, next to the dirty dating pool pond, swimming with the frogs, rats, and snakes that continually take you for granted, bruise your ego, and eventually deceive you in the worst way.

In short, meeting the one is not a walk in the park. It is a journey for the brave at heart. Yet, I have met a few ladies who dared challenge me on this matter. "I bumped into my true love, and we moved in together a month later, and we have been inseperable since", one youngin once gloated but I forgave her ignorant self for she was a child. At twenty three years, you have not seen nor tasted anything yet, to be chiming in grown folks business. Most twenty three year olds have just left their parents' nest, stepped into early adulthood, and are in college or working to become independent. Therefore, the only type of real love they have experienced is parental love, if they are lucky to have loving parents in their lives.

Puppy love is what twenty somethings are still exploring with the opposite sex, from their teenage years, of which many budding adults will later learn the hard way that this kind of innocent love turns toxic real fast, and hence it is the mother of all heartbreak songs ever produced in all lifetimes. As yet, we have not even began to touch on sacrificial, struggle, and self love, which are in themselves, are painful character development tools, used to push us into maturity, as well as self-actualization. I bet you that when you get to this stage of your life, all those romcoms you love so dearly, will turn into punchlines for your seedy jokes.

Contrary to popular belief, love is not only for the birds but for us all. Although, to be fair, I do believe that the birds have mastered the art of being in satisfying monogamous relationships, until they drop dead, by a predator's deadly claw. Once the gentle bird meets up with the lady bird, they seal the love deal for a lifetime, dedicating their lives to one another, building a nestling for their baby birds, watching them grow, until they fly off into the sunset. Because their life span is short, perhaps their decision to stay with one another is beyond love. Maybe the two love birds, pun very much intended, decide to stay together for connection, protection, and preservation. I believe that these winged creatures trust and obey God's leading of their natural lives, than most humans do.

Yet, the law of the jungle is not kind to any creature, be it bird or man. It is a man eat man society afterall, and no creature is safe within the pecking order. In a word, we live in a fallen world, where none is safe, not in love nor in life. In fact, it is every man for himself, and God for us all. When it comes to love or to be loved, God is the one put on a pedastal before anything or anyone else. Who you worship, is also the one you glorify. Anyone or anything that comes before your God will lead you into disappointment, betrayal, and sometimes even to a sad fate.

Once you have learnt to put God first, then you graduate into self-love. Before you decide to dedicate your love and affection to anyone, make sure you direct love and care to yourself. Anyone who is quick to love others more than they love themselves, is a people-pleaser, looking for validation. After, finding your purpose follows in this direction of sacrificial love. You were not brought into this earth, merely to occupy space. Therefore, you must ask for God's guidance for your higher calling, before finding your true love. You will come to learn that in your purpose, is where you will find your soul mate.

Next, your happily ever after chapter in life opens up when you least expect it. Take que from Cinderella, the most favourite of disney princesses, and learn after her fairy tale. Once she conqured her toughest of battles, is when she met Prince Charming, who came in the nick of time, to rescue, marry, and live happily ever after.