For Those Boys Who Think Like Me – John Chizoba Vincent

John Chizoba Vincent
I have always told you how brave it is to have you in mind, i have always told you that nothing should stop you from being who you are.  You have the most powerful brain in you and there is no how you can not create a better future for yourself. Think and grow rich everyday. Never you underrate anyone.  Never you look down on anyone.  Serve the masses of pride in the dungeon of hopelessness.  You are dreams and Hope in the eyes of the world.  When the time comes for you to manifest nothing will stop you from shooting down fear.  I have always loved you, I have always loved teaching you the creed and prayers of comfort and communication, I have always loved to hold you in my thoughts and allow you to sit closer to what seems like a dream and aspirations gallantly standing in my mind.

Boys do not remember what the society told you before you started writing your names on a piece of papers. Boys do not  bank your beliefs in what the society said about you.  If we have to visit and sing together in the room where goodness reign,  let it be possible through the laughter once created by the atmosphere of miracle not molestation. I have known you even before the slum picked you in dire rejection.  Think like me and hope like me,  rip of yourself into memories of love.  I will always hold this against you when tomorrow comes and I have no prints of your deeds.

Remember home,  leave home as you journey loosely into the world of pain but don’t forget to visit home.  My empress prince  have you in mind.  I have called Jaja yesterday, I wrote to him and told him about and why Chimamanda created him.  Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie made him voiceless from the beginning. She made him seems like a forgotten boy.  I still have him in mind.  I wrote about him in pains of how feminists can treat boys like us. I told him not to worry about the pains he went through. I knew she manipulated him into a ticker bull.  I know she ruled his passion through the voice of Kambilinudo. He was created in absurdity, think about him boys.  But boys,  let your mind be at peace,  we have over come.

To Ikemefuna, I wrote to him with a trembling muse. I allowed myself into his soul to reach out to those lyrical moment where he sang of lost.  If a man’s  mouth is small,  must he borrow a bigger one to talk to his children?  No.  If a man’s  penis is too small must he borrow a bigger one to birth truthful and certified boys?  No.  I have you in mind boys.  I truly do. For you who wear my skin and never get burnt by the fury and anger in it.  For those of you who think like me,  for those of you who are of my kind and caring and loving, for those of you whose shadows were dedications to the spirit of Nri  brotherhood; for Nkporo boys, I won’t forget you in a hurry.

Do not cry over anything. Do not point accusation fingers over the weed of your neighbours. Do not rebel against your brother or your sister. Do not remember home as foliage of silence. Do not remember home as armies of proud torment.  Do not remember home as a pyramid of awakening unbroken madness. Do not remember home as soon as you think of me.  Leave home,  get rejected for once, get abused,  get molested, get hungry and never think of going back home as this is going to happen. Remember to remember that home is an endless atmospheric nightmare but do not think of it.  A handful of thoughts  interwoven with plans will do you good everyday.  I am not ashamed to be called a boy.  I am not ashamed to look into the eyes of the world and I tell her that I am not ashamed.   I am liking the man I am becoming.  I can look the sun in the eyes and mirror my echoing self into instances of esteem.
I have told you do not come home to a land where the god is apeased with a strange daily toll of skulls rolling from east to west and from North to South.  Do not remember all these things when the pleasures of your harvest return home because home is where we first started talking about me and you before we left to a foreign land.

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