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| Sen. Bassey Albert |
The spell of conviction has broken your bridge, you can no more walk to the river, nor return home to your family.
You become a Prince of tragedy, a cripple in the season of battle, a half-wit in days of wisdom and incapacitated in days when capacity is profound.
A man once full of courage, now helpless like a worm, projected for failure, when success seems the right choice. Harlots become your cheerleaders as virtuous women abscond from you in the face of shame.
You are fainthearted because of shame, the complexities of your thoughts made you to wonder if there will ever be a way out of this quack-mire.
You sighted the hilltop mansion from afar, you became Moses who saw the promised land, but his feet were halted by dead, a hundred miles away.
Criminal conviction has galvanized your glory as opium of shame, it chains you to the bridge foundation with fitters of iron. It led your soul to the mud and crumbled your mission as a broken rail.
Your bridge has been cut down and suddenly, your labour of many years has been ruined by your sins, you become restless as a pig without siblings and ancestors.
The goddess of conviction swore by their blood, never to let you go beyond the bridge, you become a mourner of your soul, while sobbing your tears as fine wine.
And weakness claims your flesh as the venom of a cobra.
You become a wanderer with your vision, your mission, become a nightmare right before you.
And your sudden woes takes away your peace.
"OH WHO BORN DOG!!! Where is your throne?
You once shone as an astonishing man of valour, but criminal conviction puts off your light from shining, see how your past is hunting your future. Mbom ye Ata Ata mbom, the shame of conviction has taken your glory.
You were running this race as a cat with nine lives, suddenly you lost your limbs to conviction, it has broken the bridge of your Track and cut down your hope.
Furthermore, you are now panting as a sick dog, weary and limping as an aged witch, your mission becomes a bridge of no return.
Not only that, but you are like a dead living-rat, you now faint all day and your energy become a faded force, see how your past have hunted your future to tatters
You now look like an expired bomb, gasping for oxygen to explode but like a cradle baby, you are without no speed to contest with this adult running.
Many may wonder—why have you been shot out of glory? Why have you been bashed as a cracked wall? Look into the heavens, you will find the answers.
God doesn't Give glory to those who qualify themselves, but he dashes it to those he qualifies for His use.
God doesn't make kings who are already kings in their deeds, but he makes for himself humble men kings to sit on his throne.
God loves to make for himself a king, and he caused those who wanted to be Kings to stumble on their path to the throne so that he can enthrone his meek elect.
Your conviction is not man made, this sort of things happened. Most times when men go against the tides of God. He will sweep them away with the stormy waters and drown them to the River bed, though their lives will never end.
The spanner on your wheels is Divine, to stop you from fighting God's plans. When He fulfills his plans, you will be left alone to face your woes.
Like a painful injection that goes down to the bone and marrow, you are now gnashing your teeth in pains and agony, though I sympathize with you, I have no power to set you free.
Your heart has become the Center of war, your thoughts are like troops of ants, they go up and down like a floating meter.
Your praise singers’ voices are going down slowly, what is left are tiny sect of blood suckers, though they shout on a high octave, yet they are not heard from the hills of victory
Those who were waving the leaves as mourners of nineteenth century, are all weary and the green leaves in their hands are becoming brown, many have left behind the leaves on the road and picked up the umbrella of safety.
Though you are temporarily free from the prison walls, you are still behind it in your thoughts, though you are free from the control of warders, you are not free to go where you wish to go and do what you wish to do. So where is your freedom “Who Born Dog”?
Those that their intention is to milk you dry, will continue to colonize your conscience so that you won't know when to walk away.
Their only mission is to milk you dry and continue to reap from where they did not sew.
I share in your grief but as a deep thinker, I know you are suffering from the pains of fighting against the will of God.
When Saul fought against God's enthronement of David, he became mad, when Absalom fought the enthronement of Solomon he died on the tree, when Abacha perpetuate himself in power, he died from eating apple and when Pharaoh wanted to stop Israelites he was killed at Red Sea.
Nothing survives God’s anger, when that object stands on the way of God's mission, he made mountain plain land and made valley a living throne.
The wall of Jericho couldn't stand firm when God wanted his children to take over the promise land, the Jebusites were crushed to mire because God wanted his Covenant children to possess the land flowing with milk and honey.
Pastor Umo Eno is anointed by God, all that stood before must suffer affliction until they leave his path.
God gives his throne to the meek but rejects the proud, and bring them to the mire of shame.
Your bridge has been broken, you are left in the middle of nowhere, may God grant you another path to take you to somewhere, for Pastor Umo Eno has found favour in His sight.
The conquest of Canaan by Joshua and the Israelite tribes was swift and decisive, Pastor Umo is the Joshua of today, he will conquer all before him speedily.
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