Days have gone

Mornings and nights have changed

Every new day my lifespan gets reduced

I keep on seeing people changing

Relatives fighting and allowing hate to occupy their life

And all this makes me think about you my son

Who is about to come to this world of ours.

Here, life is not easy or fair

People eat after sweating

Panhandlers on the streets beg

Some get coins from good hearted folks while others get beaten

A tycoon with a plenty of things snatches the little of the pauper

And at times, no proper justice is given for the oppressed.

Women cuckold their spouses

Others have severe accidents

To the extent they’re left with no chance to breathe again

They make their way to heaven or hell.

Well, my son, I’m not writing all these words with the intention to threaten you

Instead, I want you to know how this world is

And by the time you’ll come in it, try to speak and express yourself, walk with the truth and maintain a distance between you and the fools.

Stay away from drugs; help your mother and siblings in case I’ll not be there with you

Enlarge your eyes and see

Open your ears and listen to those in need

Promote a strong friendship

Between you and the paper and the pencil

They’ve been my friends for a long time believe me

They’re good friends and I’m pretty sure that they’ll comfort you in times of depression and difficulty

This is written from the bottom of my heart.

I love you my son.....

BY OBED SHYAKA