Guest Post

Your Child: Your Image, God’s Heritage!

“Olu don’t go!, please don’t!,
you’re from a christian home,
why should you go to a club party?,
why should you go to mingle with the sons of Belial and daughters of Jezebel?,
you should be a light to them”.

I heard Mrs Omoniyi saying to her son Olu,as I was alighting from my car to enter into my flat apartment.

Mrs Omoniyi is a perfect example of what it means to be a godly wife,
but I think she missed it in the aspect of training up her child,
and that silenced me of calling her a virtuous woman,
because I know a virtuous woman should get a kudos in the aspect of being a godly wife and raising a godly child,
whereby producing a christian family (though it takes God’s grace).

Mrs Omoniyi has over pampered Olu,
that boy is morally rotten.

Mrs Omoniyi has been a blessing to me as a bachelor,
with her advises.
Her words always locate a channel to pierce into my marrow,
even when my heart has been concretely made up on going the wrong way,
her modest,
but firm and convictive statements will overpower me and immediately,
my heart get dissolves,
in fact, I can say,
she has being my wonderful discipler.

So with all these her nice attitudes towards me,
I find it very difficult not to help her in counselling Olu,
though I’m tired of it.

Olu will just be clocking fifteen next week,
but he’s already hardened,
stiff necked,
rebellious to authority and notorious.

Since he lost his father when he was seven,
he lost every form of chastisement.

I sometimes would privately call his mother whenever he did something so wrong that really deserves the presentation of strokes.

I would tell her
“mummy Olu, do you know what Olu just did deserves you using cane on him?,
don’t just talk all the time,
lest this boy becomes dull of it,
he doesn’t even understand some of these things you’re telling him,
now that he’s still young,
don’t spare your rod,
if you really want this boy for good”.

But she would always give me this reply of
” ehnn,
you know he’s the only one I have,
no husband,
no other child,
even families have turned their back on us,
beating him will make him shed tears,
which I wouldn’t like to see him do,
let’s just continue nurturing him with the word,
I believe he will change”.

Olu started making worldly friends,
especially after his primary school education,
when he got admitted into Ibadan boys’ high school,
he drastically switched to the other side.

Bible study – Olu will not attend,
revival hour services – mba!,he has forgotten there’s something called that,
Sunday services – he attends only once in a month,
and won’t even appear until some minutes to the last amen.

There was a time I followed a colleague in my office to Ibadan boys’ high school,
when he needed to collect his secondary school certificate for an important reason.

As I was about alighting from the car that day,
I saw a teacher profusely delivering strokes of cane on a student’s buttock,
while the student only stood still without shaking let alone crying.
I said to my friend “chai, boys’ high school students are original crooks,
they’re to be feared,
ever stubborn!”,
I exclaimed.

“Na you sabi”,
he replied,
and we laughed over it.

As I moved closer to where this operation “fayofayo” was going on,
I started battling with the information my retina was sending to my brain,
(I shouted),
then,the he boy looked at my direction.
My eye’s was innocently revealing the truth sha.

what have you done?”,
(I felt like punching that teacher who was beating my discipler’s son like a goat that ate a copper’s original N.Y.S.C. certificate).

“Mr man,
do you know him”
(the teacher said).

I gave him a kind of
“didn’t you hear me when I called his name?” look.

I was so boiling,
“this your boy is bad o”
(he said and I replied),
“what has he done”,
(almost shouting).

“We caught him smoking behind one of the uncompleted classes”.

(My eyes started blinking fast,
my mouth opened without my conduct),
“further investigation made us know that he is a member of one of the notorious gangs in this school”,
(he added and my feet lost their firmness as I staggered backward to rest my back on one of the pillars behind me).

I could only recite three words my brain picked from this heartbreaking epistle the teacher just narrated about Olumide.
I was still helplessly saying
“Olu, smoking, gang” when I heard my colleague calling on me,
to let’s return back to the office.

I couldn’t say something much,
as the shock I got from that information made me dumbfounded,
I only bowed to the teacher,
a sign to thank him,
and I gave Olu a kind of “ipade di ile”
(we shall meet at home) look.

Throughout my stay in the office that day,
I was just thinking on how sad Mrs Omoniyi would be when I eventually unveil the matter to her.

To my surprise,
I got home only to see Olu devouring a mountain of pounded yam and a river of egusi soup with mass of fishes swimming in it.

He was about launching a ball of pounded yam into his mouth when I shouted
“if you dare….”,
he looked at me sternly and his mother also fixed her eyes on me surprisingly.

I ignored those versions of look,and rushed to that “lazy smoker” to release some heavy slaps on his face,
only for me to see both the son and the mother crying.

“Lobatan o,
was this not the boy a teacher was beating like a goat in school some hours ago,
who did not sweat let alone cry?,
this smoker must be a joker”.

I narrated the whole story to Mrs Omoniyi,
and all she said was
“Olumide, hell fire is real ooo,
thank you bro Mayowa,
God bless you”.

I was so embarrassingly astonished,
and with surprise I said
I was so disappointed,
and she only repeated the “thank you bro Mayowa,
God bless you”.

I looked at Olu,
and he gave me a
“what else do you want,
bro solo” look.

I shook my head and made my way to my apartment,
fumbling with my car key,
as I walked coldly.

This and some other cases made me tired of interfering in Olu and his mother’s matters.

Olu is lazy,
he’s just an embodiment of bad attitudes.

But whenever you try correct him,
his mother will just stylishly calm your nerves
and water down your corrective words.

So,when I heard Mrs Omoniyi cautioning Olu not to go to the club for party that evening,
I felt like not interfering at all,
but I just won’t allow that proud boy cause contention between my discipler and I,
plus I love the boy too.

So I moved into their apartment,
Olu was already dressed up, “eehwoo!!”,
come and see dressing,
is it the womb of my dynamic and precious discipler that produced this man dressed up like an hooligan?.

In sin do mothers conceive their children truly!,
there’s nothing like immaculate delivery at all.

I greeted Mrs Omoniyi,
and she answered calmly.

“Hello Olu”
(I greeted him too),
(he answered),
I was used to that anyways.

I asked Mrs Omoniyi what the matter was,
and she explained.

So this “to be fifteen years old” boy would be leaving his mother to a club party from this Friday evening till Sunday morning!.

I looked straight to him and said,
“Olu don’t go”,
even as the words were escaping from my mouth,
I felt its weakness,
and I know it couldn’t amount to something huge,
Olu was more than that.

“Egbon you use jazz?”
(he said laughingly in pidgin).

I felt like rushing at him to beat that stinking mouth of his worn out,
but I remembered those three words I picked from his secondary school teacher’s speech,
few years back.

“Olu, smoking, gang”,and knowing that his mother will also be displeased to see me do that,
I humbly added,
“please, for your mum’s sake,
just remember…”

I was still saying,
when he said
“mummy bye”,
and he flew out.

“God will go with you ooo” (I heard his mother say),
“to the club house?”,
(that statement escaped from my mouth),
then I quickly added
“well, His presence is everywhere”,
I didn’t want to make her so sad.

Olu didn’t return home on Sunday as he said he would.
Monday passed,
Tuesday followed,
Wednesday came.

We didn’t see Olu ooo,
I had to join his mother in the search of him,
a man advised us to make a report in a police station.

We went to Iyaganku police station to file the case,
only for us to find out that Olu was in one of the cells there,
how come?,
what happened?.

The police response made us know that Olu didn’t actually go for a party,
but went to join some group of notorious boys in robbing a retired general’s house,
they killed the RT general in the act,
and luckily for the armed men,
they were arrested.

Standing here today as an eye witness of Olu and his company facing the firing squad,
the commander shouted,
“Omoniyi Olumide,
give your last statement”,
and all I heard Olu screamed out was,
you never love me,
when you ought to chastise me,
you spared your rod,
don’t bother to cry at all!,
you caused the greater part of it!”.

I was unable to hold it in any longer,
no more tears to release,
I had wept sore,
my eyeballs were aching me seriously,
my heart jumped into my mouth as I heard the commander say,
get ready and listen to my order,
“They are fools!,
Destroy them!!”

P.S. : Hmmn,
Daddies and Mummies (and the to be’s),

please don’t spare your rod,
chastise us,
pray for us,
open the scripture to us,
continue to do us this with love,
we pledge not to put you in shame.

My brothers and sisters,
let’s listen and submit to the elders instructions in the Lord,
it will go a long way in saving our souls.

Fellow students of His Word,
we can’t afford to company with fools,
haters of God’s word,
mockers of the Cross,
despisers of instructions,
excusers of the narrow path. Our ways are not the same with theirs.
Dwell with the wise,
don’t be an Ephraim,
don’t be a Dinah,
you won’t want to be a Lot.

Though helping and pulling some out of fire,
taking your burning and shinning candle to light up their darkness,
yet save with fear,
hating even the garment spotted by the flesh.

Wisdom is crying!.

Author: Alao Gabriel Oluwamayowa

I am Alao Gabriel Oluwamayowa.
I’m a lover of God and His word,
I’m a light that shines, a voice that speaks, a pen that writes – all these I do to see others come to the knowledge of my (their) Creator.
I’m a scientist – an agronomist (prospective),
I love creativity and art, I love to commune with God,
I’m jovial, hospitable, yet principled,
I’m that kind of Homo sapiens you’ll love to be with.
Welcome to my Empire!

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