Many hopes and dreams were, once again, shattered after participating in the worst election in the history of the country. Was it even an election? Some say selection. A conception of deception, full of imperfection aided by suppression and oppression.
No, this was everything but an election. It is a predilection for corruption. Whatever it is, we all feel a cessation of life so palpable and tangible it hit differently. Death knell echoed throughout the land as grandparents hissed, fathers cursed, mothers sighed and children wept. Three generations denied sight of the promised land. How many more lifetimes do we want?
Head resting upon his wrinkled hands, death grinds his teeth and lets out a loud belch. The warm air was soon filled with the putrid stench of decomposition. He chuckled as he tossed yet another log into the fire.
He knew all along I was staring at him and looked up momentarily. Our gaze locked. I stared into his cold sullen eyes looking for some form of remorse or guilt in his visage. He looked past me and he was gone.
Gone, before I could ask him if he had any regrets at all. Did he regret taking an unborn child, a newlywed bride, the brave soldier, the only son, the single mother, the breadwinner father? Death, do you even have an iota of a conscience? Show me where you have drawn the limits? Tell me do you have any boundaries?
Silence all around as my questions echo in my head and reverberate in the corridors of my mind.
Again, left alone, I weep for my country. ” But Death, this was like the killing of an innocent woman?” I screamed. ” What did she do to you? Has she not given you enough? Have you not drunk enough blood and maybe even worse than that, taken enough of her time, devoured her years?”
I recall as many gasped for breath after witnessing her bloody and brutal crucifixion.
The nails were driven in slowly and after three weeks, suspecting she was still alive, they sought to finish what they had started. Blood mixed with water, sorrow and tears flowed a ceaseless ebb.
I remember how they stripped her, cast lots for her possessions and then placed her battered body in an unmarked grave. Even in death, she was deprived of every sense of dignity or honour.
Unable to fathom the outcome of events, many are disheartened and disillusioned. She, that should be light by darkness has been slain. Weeping and lamentation everywhere. The sun sets as we adorn ourselves with graveclothes, our souls completely shaved in sullen procession.
Hope makes its way through the throng distributing blankets, encouraging the weak, strengthening the feeble, comforting those who mourn. But will it be enough to sustain what we know to be possible?
I close my weeping eyes, too tired to figure anything out anymore. Perhaps in the morning light I will see it as a dream.
Then I heard a little voice whisper to me this morning… “why do you weep? Resurrection morning is coming. Nigeria will burst forth in glorious day…up from the grave she will rise again….Death has no power over her. No devices of man can ever derail the plans and purpose of God for her. Wait and see. But it is important you wait in hope and wait in faith.
Hope this brings you a measure of comfort and consolation.
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