Our lion, our pillar, our papa,
you're as constant as the millet or maize meal we know you'll always want for supper,
don't even get me started on how you've loved my mother.

The eternal drives to get our education,
with Westlife, Bryan Adams moving my present battles with infatuation,
I'm glad that you eventually transitioned to British Broadcasting Corporation,
the constant encouragement and affirmation,
the care, correction and redirection,
the freedom and support,
the discipline and the remorse,
these words come short,
how could I ever repay?
What else can I say,
I get writer's block when it comes to you,
maybe because your life leaves me speechless,
perhaps your love ties my tongue.
when all is said and done I'll always be thankful for you Obi-Wan.
With love,
Your son.