Just maybe...

I cried.Very loud I cried.So hard I cried.Like I don't care.Like it was the only thing I can do.It wasn't in my room that I cried.It was in the church,in the front pew of the choir side of the church.Many eyes might have seen me but I wasn't bothered cos my heart is crushed.God needs to hear me.He needs to see me.

The Pastor was giving the message.I have heard the message before but not this way.It was bringing tears to me.Uncontrollable tears.My Pastor was talking about rapture.

I hated this topic.It gets me scared and so I often don't listen to it when it is preached but not today.I was in the message.I was thinking of what would happen to me if...

If I miss heaven.If I go to hell.The sorrows I would feel.The pains.So I cried.

I cried for I would have gone to hell if rapture took place before this message.

 I have had sex with a girl I met in the club on friday night.My pastor called it a sin.It was worse because I'm the choir leader and the Youth Secretary of my pentecostal church.I had cried because I lied to my Mum just to get three thousand Naira from her.I inflated the price of the hot plate I helped my sister buy just to get some money.And these are all wrong in the sight of God.

Maybe the only things I did this week that can't take me to hell was sleeping,eating,bathing.So I cried.

I had gone to answer the altar call when my Pastor had put the call across.To make more people pick this call.My pastor said,"it will happen all in a second,you wouldn't know,just in a blink of an eye,It may be less than that because the Bible said that a thousand years on earth is like a day in heaven,so why not seize..."He was still saying when I screamed.

I shouted.Again I shouted.Now I cried more.It was becoming a disturbance I guess because I felt the hand of one of the ushers on my shoulder.

 More people came out.My Pastor prayed for us.The service continued.And ended after some minutes.We went for a few minutes counselling.

I had asked a question during the counselling.About the a day in the sight of God being a thousand years on earth.My Pastor read it out to me from the Bible in Psalm 90:4 KJV.He told me that wasn't what I should be concerned with.But living a holy life.

I went home immedaitely after service.All through since after I heard that thousand years stuff I didn't concentrate in all he said again.

I had cried more during the alter call because I was fooled.I cried more in my room when I got home.

Is that true?So Heaven is just two days old since after Christ died.And our earth is two thousand and fourteen years old already.Mystery.

Then I picked my diary and wrote down the date.My Pastor said I should do that.I didn't write the date because my Pastor said I should.But because I started doubting God.

 What nonsense I thought.How possible is this?I thought.A thousand years?A day?I asked myself.Is that how powerful God can be?

I stood.I walked.I lied on my bed.I sat.I moved and moved all about my room taking different positions.

This is sounding like a fairy tale to me.Who is the god mother?Mary?I rolled on my bed.Answers are not coming.

 Who has the answer.The kingdom of God was at hand while Christ still lived.And it's two thousand years now.Rather two days and some 'mini-mini seconds'.Yet the kingdom remains at hand.

"The signs of his coming is everywhere",my Pastor said."It may happen even this year or next year even".He said.

How many days was the world created?Six days?Or six thousand days?Christ was dead for how many days?Three days?Or three thousand years?

On whose scale of measuring days was the Bible written.The 24 hours a day of the earth.Or God's 'a thousand days on earth-a day in heaven's'.

Come on,what more is there to think?I just wish I have answers.I'm not happy I gave my life to Christ.I'm confused.I just don't know.Maybe Heaven is really not real.Just maybe.

Don't drink Fanta anymore

This morning while I did my laundry,a neighbour came and sat close to where I was.I didn't see her come with a can of fanta.But I saw her open one.

As she drank of it and I in want of things to talk to her about.I asked her how much she got the drink.She told me it was given to her from where she bought recharge card a few minutes before she came to join me.

My throat had gone into the canned fanta.And perhaps that was the reason I asked about the drink's price.I felt like snatching it from her.Even when I know I wouldn't .

I remembered I haven't seen her drink fanta before.And how she have made me drink coke instead of fanta within the four months we have known each other.

Instead of snatching the drink.I asked her when she started drinking fanta.She told me she collected it because it was a gift.And then told me a story.

She told me the story of a dream she once had.She told me of how someone had given him a bottle of fanta in the dream.And another someone came and warned her not to drink the fanta.And never to drink fanta again in her life.

I laughed out loud.Very loud.And queried  her on how long that has been."It's been long o,it's been up to a year,a year plus",she said.I laughed more."And you have never taken fanta since then?",I asked still laughing."And before then it was fanta or nothing",she said.

I laughed harder this time.I was about telling her that I forget my dreams as soon as I wake up from them when her attention was called by another neighbour.

I can't even remember the last time I had a dream.I know that her kind of dream won't make me not to drink fanta.I would have taken fanta the day after the dream.In the evening.When everybody will be at home so that I can tell everybody my dream.And laugh over it.My mum will so laugh.My immediate younger sister will laugh the most.But that is if I remember that I dreamt that kind of dream.

I began to think of what people make out of dreams.What the reactions of some of the people I know will be if they have her dream.

Was a message passed to her?Was there something about fanta that will kill her?Will she face danger now that she have taken fanta?I asked myself in real want of answers.

I thought of Joseph.His dreams came true.His dreams were meaningful.Then dreams say something to us I thought.

Is this the reasons for men of God 'binding and casting' when people tell them of eating in the dream?Is this why they 'delivered' when people talk of having sex in the dream.

I was still thinking when my neighbour's steps jerked me up.I was still washing.I have a blue t-shirt in between my hands.I rushed through my washing.

And walked into the house hoping to seek my siblings view.Nobody was in.When did they all leave?No one to tell my story then.So I typed.Hoping to get answers on if I should also no longer drink fanta.

Anu ohia.

My mother sent me on an errand to my uncle's place.A few poles away from our new house.I was about leaving when I remembered she would have been gone before I come back.I therefore requested for some money with which to buy bread for my cup of lipton and bread breakfast.

She gave me some money for the bread.And then an additional one hundred Naira with which to buy a bag of 'pure water' while coming back to the house from my uncle's place.

After an about one hour stay in my uncle's place with my message delivered.I decided to take my leave.I was on my way home when I entered a shop to buy the bag of 'pure water'.We are new in the area.So I don't know most of the shop owners.

 In this shop was a beautiful lady of about sixty.And a boy of about thirteen years whom I thought may be this lady's grand son.Or perhaps her son if she didn't become a wife early enough.

I need not be told she was the shop owner.She was comfortably sitted with her lens on.As she read aloud from the christain's holy book.She must be reading the psalms or the proverbs I thought to myself because of the rhythmic flow of the words she read out.

I was about telling her what I wanted to buy when the boy mumbled something to her.She responded.Her words wasn't very clear.But I heard her clearly as she ended her speech by calling the boy an 'anu ohia'(the igbo way of saying wild animal)

 I nearly bit my tongue in my surprise.'Wasn't that the bible', I asked myself.As I looked at the boy whose facial expression has speedily changed.

I have heard mothers call their children worse names.But not mothers reading the bible in a genial morning.

I bought my bag of 'pure water' and a loaf of bread and .left.But all I could think of was what the woman learn from the bible.From the psalms and proverbs that she was smilingly reading out.

 I remembered my primary school days when I had acted a drama.My then mother in the drama had called me a bush boy and I had happily packed up and gone to the bush.Where I lived for days.Until she came looking for me.Found me.And talked me back home.


I was not yet home.But I laughed at my thought.As I remembered some classmates whose contacts I may never get.And how I have acted the drama almost perfectly.


It all at once occured to me what importance mother's could be.How they can make or mar their children.I smiled as I thought of my mother who will never call me an 'anu ohia'.Or a bush boy.

I just got home.Picked my pen and wrote away.And then picked my phone replied my bbm,whatsapp and facebook messages and type up my little story.Made my breakfast.Ate and continued with my daily activities.