Sacred cows vol. I

   If you have ever been privileged to attend a church, live close to a church or have a passionate brother or sister in Christ come and preach the gospel to you about accepting Jesus into your life as your Lord and Saviour, then you would have heard them, in their bid to convey the message of God's love, say something like 'You know God loves you the way you are but he doesn't want to leave you the way you are'. You've heard that before, right? Of course you have. You’ve probably even preached it to someone before. Now that statement, on the surface actually sounds like it makes sense but on further rumination, I realized that just like many other prevailing notions in our churches society, it’s far from that.

   Now before you start venting and rolling your eyeballs at this, just be patient and reason with me for the next few minutes. Imagine you won a car in a contest. The car of your dreams: a metallic black Bugatti Veyron (relax, I said imagine you pessimist!). You're about to totally freak out and perhaps, faint in disbelief but then there's a little problem. Not actually a problem but a slight glitch; the car is green. Like chlorophyllous green,and shiny. Now it's still a Bugatti, right? And still very much as valuable but still the point is, your dream car was a black Bugatti not a green one. In fact, you hate the colour green. Luckily for you, the organizers of the show hear about your displeasure and eventually agree to change the colour of the car to black (still plausible since it’s an imagination). Now you're ecstatic! You totally loooove your new car! Okay, end of imagination.

   Now look at the story again, and using your church mind(no pun intended),would you say you loved both cars the same? The green Bugatti vs the metallic black Bugatti. You really don't think you loved one more than the other do you? Of course you do. And that's my problem with that statement. If God loves me the way I am, why doesn't he want to leave me the way I am? Why does he want to change me from my green Bugatti into a black Bugatti? I thought he loved his Bugattis green? Or in any colour they come? Or is it really that he doesn't love me the way I am but he loves the potential of what I can become? (which are both two different things by the way). It's like clay vs a beautiful pot. Seems God loves the beautiful pot but clay is the means to that end so he kinda has to love the clay too, although the pot is his real dream. And I am clay at the moment. Now this is the message people who make that statement actually convey but they don't know and perhaps wouldn't even want to admit it because then, it contradicts the point they're trying to make; which is that, God loves me.

   But I dare say that if that indeed is the message they are trying to pass across, then the message should just end at God loves me: the way I was, the way I am, the way I'll be. So am I saying God's love shouldn't seek to change us? Yes! May we be changed by the knowledge of his love? Definitely! But those are two different things. The aim of love shouldn't be to change but to appreciate and cherish. After all, his love is meant to be unconditional, right?

No 5, Ezeobi Street V

The sun's rays danced in through her kitchen window, reminding her of her childhood days when she would play ten-ten with her playmates. Freedom! Yes, that was what the sun rays reminded her of. 

She struggled through the weight of her eighth-month pregnancy to reach for the salt sprinkler.

"Efe! Efeeee! Where are you? Please come and help me pass this salt"

"Madam, I don tell you say make you go rest for upstairs you no gree. I for serve the food for upstairs for you now, eh?!"

"Efe pass me the salt and stop all this your wahala jare. Who told you am not resting?"

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"Odion! Thank you for coming! I almost lost the baby o, hmm, if not that Obinna flew back to Nigeria, I would have almost died. Help me thank him o."

The naming ceremony was celebrated on a large scale with the local "City People" magazine present to capture the creme-de-la-creme of who attended the event.

"Vero please meet my sister's fiance, Victor, he's an engineer with Royal BP" said Rosa, her university roommate 

"Ahanna!"screamed Vero

Obinna stared blankly at Vero. He knew the time had come for him to say the truth. 

Fangs of grief

 His body just lay there,stiff and pale as a board. I looked hard at it hoping just for a second that I'll see his chest rise; hoping that the tickling sensation of the cotton balls in his nostrils will make him sneeze; hoping that the pain I was inflicting by pinching hard on his skin will make him wince and withdraw his hand.
I got nothing. He was still gone,cold as ice. It's been 7 days now. Guess I'll have to try again tomorrow.
  And then I overheard them,trying to console her as she wept uncontrollably; the lady who would feel this loss the most,my older and only sister. Ever since our mum died 3 years earlier,my sister had grown so fondly attached to our dad. Our mum's loss hit her the hardest and now this. "He's in a better place,okay?". "God has called home his beloved". "Don't cry". I looked down from the living room upstairs where I was and I could feel the anger and frustration well up within me but I tried hard to remain calm. "Imagine him smiling now at the feet of the Lord,a good and faithful servant". What is all these? Are these people for real? "Folashade,ye sunkun mo nau...otito",one of the mourners said. "Pele,he's where he belongs now".
   I rushed downstairs at this point and went straight for the remote of the home theatre system. I turned it on,scrolled down to a song and pressed play. "...We are happy people we make you happy...we are H-A-P-P-Y...". The song by Adewale Ayuba started playing and the whole room suddenly fell silent as they all wondered what was going on. I stood there glowering at everyone in the room for the next minute and then I turned it off. "That's what you all want na,shey?! You want us to be happy! Our father is dead but we should be happy he's in a better place! Halleluyah! Glory to God",I ranted sarcastically. At this point the room was so silent I could hear my rapidly beating heart. All eyes on me. Say hi to Tupac for me,Dad.
  "He's in a better place? Is that supposed to make us dance for joy? Is it a better place that will cater for the orphans he left behind?! Is it a better place that will tell us how much he loves us and how we are his joy every morning? Is it a better place that I will run to when I'm confused and need advice? What the fuck is wrong with all of you?!". Yes,I just cursed at my elders. They all just remained motionless and transfixed at how this 15-year old boy got the nerves to do that. I didn't believe it either but I really didn't care. I also curse the day I was born at this point if it makes them feel better.
   "Don't tell me he's in a better place. If it really was a better place,why are you still here??? Go and join him na!!". I could hear my voice reverberating all over the house. My sister burst into more tears. "Don't tell me he's in a better place!! Where could be better for a 45 year old man than being with his young children and family?! Don't tell me he's where he belongs!! DON'T!!!".
  I knew they were just trying to help but they weren't. And I had to let them know that. I didn't realize when I fell to the ground and started weeping. I cried for the first time since his death. I guess I had finally accepted that he was gone for good. I'm so screwed.

 PS: I believe the best way to comfort those who grieve isn't to try to sweet-talk them out of it but as it says somewhere in the bible, to mourn with those who mourn. Our words can't bring back the dead or restore what has been lost but they can indeed make things worse,even though unintentionally. Remember, the thing with pain is,it demands top be felt!

No 5 Ezeobi Street IV

"Please do you know Makama Hall?" asked the stranger

"No, I don't. I'm a jambite and am even confused with this whole campus arrangement. Sorry I can't help"

"Ok thanks, but where are you off to? Can I drop you?"

"No, thanks I'm fine."

With that the stranger parked and alighted.

"Please don't walk out on me. My name is Obinna, Obinna Madueke. My dad is the Minister of Transport and I just got back from Germany. I'm here to see my junior brother who resides in Makama hall. Don't be scared, I don't bite biko!"

With that Vero and Obinna became friends, or maybe more than friends. Because she wouldn't admit that they were going out until one day when her roomate, Rosa,decided to become friends too with Obinna.

"Leave Obinna alone oo! He's my friend and that's it!"

"You no go talk true now o! Is he your bf? Yes or no?!!"

"Rosa na! You no say Ahanna dey abroad, Obi has asked me to marry him but what do I do? Ahanna hasn't replied any of my letters since 1991, can you imagine? Mama says maybe he's busy with school and that I shouldn't break his heart, me I dunno what to do."

"Vero you know you are a fine girl. Don't hurry to marry abeg but don't chase Obinna away. He'a been taking care of you and your family, he looks cool but I think you should tell him now if you aren't interested. Don't waste his time oo"

With that, Vero decided to accept Obinna's proposal in her third year in school, 2 years after Ahanna promised to return. Her love for him had waxed cold; only silent winds gently whispered the moments they shared to her on some nights. She pushed those thoughts away all the while saying, if he truly loved me, he should have come as promised.