Sorry you didn’t hear from me in a long while now. I had a brain block, at the same time going through some transformation…maturity. Old age, I wish my kids don’t finally dump me in the old people’s home. I wish.
That reminds me. We all did primary biology, didn’t we? I did, and was mastery in human skeleton, and someone said; “that’s why you look like a skeleton.” Do I? But everybody cannot be wrong. I quarrelled often with my siblings when I was still young (now, see what nature has turned me into; may I never be bald). Why? Do you remember that Jumbo Cube advert on television? If you do, you are my fellow senior citizen. An animated cow would appear at the end of the advert, wag its tail and jump inside the cube. Any time the cow appeared on the advert, my siblings would all turn around in unison and look at me, laughing. I always knew it; I looked like the cow tail. Thank God for my mother, “papa, don’t mind them”, she would tell me. That’s why she received the Honour, MON, Mother Of the Niger from me.
Enough of my ugliness; though working hard on my six-packs; I hope I don’t turn to Simpson’s kid. But there is this good friend of mine that always gives me courage to move on, Lancaster. Any time I look at him, I praise God for the way I am, wonderfully made. In my Sunday school class, I was taught not to question God, if not, I would have asked Him why Lancaster was fearfully made. He looks like Dudu Osun soap.
I was walking down to a grocery store one evening and stumbled upon a middle aged woman having a dispute with a cyclist. I looked at the flat tyres of the motorcycle; I looked at the woman squeezing one-hundred naira note in her left palm. I knew the cause of the quarrel and continued moving. I knew because in my elementary mathematics, I was taught that one-hundred over one is an improper fraction. Seven feet away from them; “do you know who I am?” The okada man barked. I turned around, the BIG madam bent down, scooped some sand with her right palm and pushed herself closer to the okada man; “yes,” she stretched her hand with the soil; “this is who you are.” The okada man shut up immediately. Life.
We are all sons of the soil
Life itself is lifeless. If this life here ends in the soil, what then is life? It is not how you look or what you do: any time you walk on the road and see the soil, remember that’s what your body will eventually be. People spit on it…defecate on it…urinate on it…That sexy hip…those sexy lips…six packs…that glowing skin will one day turn to sand worthy to erect a pig house. You think you are too wise, intelligent, smart…just leave that brain to the maggots when the journey ends. You complain of cold, scorching sun and you hide under shelter all day; remember, there will come a time when your body will be laid down in the soil, drenched in the water all day, all night, decaying. Each day we wake up, we are getting closer to the grave. Life itself is lifeless. I was called “a cow tail”, but the truth is that, no matter how beautiful you look or how ugly I am, all skeletons look the same.
Whatever you do now; sleep, wake up, take your bath…eat…dress up…go to work, back from work…sleep…wake up…take your bath…you are waiting for death which must surely come. You feast yourself on expensive meals, drink highly branded wines and chocolate…keep up to date with fashion…you are just waiting for death. Who knows when? Life itself is lifeless. The okada man kept quiet when the BIG woman reminded him who he’s; sand, because she herself would make three tippers of sand when she dies and decays. Let that always be a reminder to us. Whether you are wonderfully made or fearfully made like my friend Lancaster, all skeletons look the same. Just imagine a skeleton on high heels, in a skinny jean and show-belly blouse. That ain’t sexy.
Like I always say, if you are scared of death, you have a skeleton in your cupboard. Imagine the picture painted about heaven and eternal rest there in, and you are still scared to go there? Instead you prefer the struggles and dangers of this life; being obstacle and, bewitching your fellow human beings…engaging in unnecessary competitions, demonizing your soul. Why are you scared to cross the bridge (death) to heaven when the time is up? You are evil.
But, what really matters?
No need for long story, just prepare, you shall surely die. Just have it in mind that you don’t know when, unless you are a suicide bomber. Heaven and hell are the two available houses in eternity. Before you die, pay your agency and agreement fees now while you still breathe to secure accommodation in any of the two. If you want hell, it’s your choice, keep on fornicating, lying, envying, bewitching…living in the flesh. They are enough to secure you accommodation in hell. If you choose heaven, die now before you die. Die to the flesh, look around you and see vanity staring at you. “What shall it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his soul?” Accept Jesus Christ today and live a selfless life. That’s what really matters. John 3:16.
That red rose
In the palm of the morning dew
Dangling like the rainbow’s daughter
Dancing the flutes
From the virgin breeze…
Shall wilt its pride
Upon the scorching belly
Of this battered plain…
BY CHUKWUEZUE NNABUIKE