Letter 2: He Says We Should Come
Dear Omobolanle,
How are you doing? Like, for real for real?
I have started shedding my uncle-ly ways—in bits that I am able to. Honestly, not really. I am not shedding it; I am still weird like that. But can you imagine? I have started using phrases like ‘frfr’, ‘tbh’, adapting to this Gen-Z thing. Low-key, I like it because it increases my sense of belonging among those who use it. I get to connect with everyone and flow freely in conversation—especially chats (you know, those WhatsApp chats that I sometimes loathe). Low-key, I’m also not very comfortable with it. But who cares? Shakespeare’s time has passed.
(Tell me what you think about this, my new Gen-Z thing o. Do you like it? Do you think I should keep it?)
I do understand that… Before I keep rambling on and on about language dynamism, evolution, and my grammatical fascinations and choices, let me jump straight into why I am writing this letter.
Do you still pray? Like, for real for real (frfr)? Does your alarm still wake you by 5 a.m.? Do you still slip out of bed at that early hour of the day when the eyes are still asking for more rest? Do you still kneel at your bedside to commune with God?
Remember I told you to stop praying lying in bed. And you wrote me saying that you try pacing—that it clubs off sleep.
Do you still pace the room by 6 a.m.? Do you just read and read and read? Do you still remember that He says we should come? Do you march through each day forgetting the Lord?
‘Mobolanle, do you still pray? Do you still trust God? Do you still believe in God?
Yours in highs and lows
Uncle Akin