THE LAST LAP
We all started the race as nerdy and naive blokes.
At the sound of the gun, I took a quick head count and we were just 49.
Everyone was eager and energized, freshly out of their Mother's nest.
It was obviously a breath of fresh air and freedom.
Everyone wanted to be ahead and watch others struggle to the catch up with them.
After the first lap, a lot of wings were broken.
A lot of ankles were twisted, some even left the track field.
Some went to another field to start again.
And some just continued with their blisters and broken bones.
On the second lap, 21 energized people joined the race.
They were fresh and more swifter than the existing runners.
They were neither inexperienced nor freshly out of their Mother's nest.
They were simply Frontliners.
Not too long, we met a lot of casualties ahead.
Unlike us, they had no place to run or anyone to be sympathetic.
They already had enough head start so much was expected of them.
They got down with broken necks, noses and bursted lips.
We continued the journey together.
Not like we were also without injuries or war-marks.
But we knew retreating was not an option, surrendering was not a choice.
We continued at our pace, cheering each other up.
Now after everything, we are in the last lap.
Hands in hands, hearts in one accords.
Hoping to finish well and laughing together.
Having the loudest voice and the purest heart in thanksgiving and worship.
Looking back through the race, people gave up.
Some tried their hardest, but it was like the race was just not theirs.
Some did their best, and it was productive.
Some were just like us, going as it was written of us (Moving in the Power of His Might).
To my partner in this Last Lap (ama_vhee): I wouldn't have chosen a better running mate, you are giving me the best of it. I don't know what comes up with us after this race, but your craziness and mine is a memory I will forever hang on to.
Awwww....inspiring,..,you have fine girls as friends o.,..heheheheh....
You know, on the journey, its our memories, that defines us.
Someone told me once that if he ran the race, its the prize at the end that determines his success and i said he was wrong....the life lessons you've learnt, the friends you've made, the tears you've cried, the hands you've held, the ones you fought, loved and had to leave, including the food you ate, not forgetting the burnt indomie too. All that adds up to the success.
Success is a progressive realization of a worthy ideal.
I pray you finish strong and your scars and bruises become emblems of respect and dignity.
And you had to say my burnt noodles abi.
How about your tasteless rice and spag or your salty efo...Don't mess with me or my culinary skills, or you are eating dinner in Abj tonight 😂😂😂