SIC VOLVERE PARCAS....

                                                                   

It is usually an exhilarating expedition taking a voyage down the literary seas of Greek mythology. You cannot help but be more amazed at the sights and sounds of their intelligence and imagination than Captain James cook was astounded by the beauty of the Hawaii.

Before the advent of the Greek civilization, it was impossible for earlier civilizations (Egyptian, Persian, etc) to conceive of the image of God so they created ugly monsters with different animal parts to depict their gods, veritable Frankensteins of confusion. The Greeks were the first, by having gods that had human attributes, to have any inkling that YAHWEH made us in his image even before the Holy Scriptures became rife. Uncannily enough they were somewhat aware that our King also suffered our infirmities by attributing human foibles to their gods but they could never discern that He could not be overcome by sin, He is holy beyond holiness. The Grecians practiced polytheism having gods for everything because they could not comprehend that God is everything, He is the EL-SHADDAI (The Many Breasted ONE), and He is everything in one and One in everything. Since Jehovah cannot be understood with ordinary mortal intelligence, they could not fathom that He was the God of war, love, sex, health, wine and all things.

From this rich stew of creativity come forth classic tales (which are juicier than well done prime sirloin) and everyday words like Zeus, Chaos, Uranus, Hermes, Atlas and so on. It is also from them that the Fates originated, three sisters who were said to control people’s destiny by spinning, measuring and cutting the thread of life. These ladies gave birth to the Latin spin-off “SIC VOLVERE PARCAS” (SO SPIN THE FATES) found in Virgil’s Aeneid.

The Greeks said that our fortunes in life are determined by these sisters and we have no power to influence them whatsoever. We cannot help it because what is written is written. It is about our stars, the patterns tattooed on our palms from the beginning of time. Do I hear you concurring, we are predestined to become who we are and everything that happens to us is in accordance to what has been predestinated. Please save us the drivel!

Forgive me for bursting your bubble, there is nothing like that.  WE ARE THE FATES!! We determine what was, what is and what will be and that is by the CHOICES we make every single day. Life coach extraordinaire “Anthony Robbins” in his bestselling “Awaken the giant in you” said DECISION DETERMINES DESTINY!

From vanilla to coffee, lilac to orange, Ferrari to Porsche, life is full of options and it is those preferences irrespective of how inconsequential sometimes that ultimately determines how our fates turn out. Boarding an airline, taking a particular route which are usually no brainers have resulted in the life or death of some people.

Some women give more thought to picking Victoria secrets lingerie than they give to choosing a life partner and by doing so they spin the frail thread of the marriage, measure it to last for a while with the tape of battering and abuse and maybe after two years, she cuts it with the scissors of divorce. You chose your own fate my sister. It was your choice.

Maybe you have a thriving outfit but you never come through for your clients (like most Nigerians do) and they stop bringing you business until you shipwreck on the shores of bankruptcy, you carved out your own destiny my brother. It’s not the fates. You predetermined with your lack of integrity that you were going to have only a decade of financial success before everything would come tumbling down on your head.

If you have children and you don’t spend any time with them because of your high flying career, and you think giving them all the latest gizmo and bathing them with dollars without discipline is what makes you a great parent, then you’ve got it all twisted. If you end up with delinquents on your hands to tomorrow, it was as a result of your choice and your greed. You called the shots. You are the fates; you spun the threads, measured them and cut the destiny of your children with the scissors of carelessness, greed, drugs, alcohol, name it.

Truth is, this message confronts us every day but our nonchalance prevents us from seeing it even if it sinks its teeth into our posteriors like a rabid bulldog. We usually miss the point. For example, in the critically acclaimed “Devil’s Advocate” featuring, Al Pacino, Keanu Reaves and Charlize Theron., Keanu made a choice for a swanky life over the values he once held dear and like William Butler Yeats said, “things fell apart” for him.

We cry everyday about how terrible Nigeria and our leaders are but we chose the leaders. From the emancipation of America, the French revolution, the Bolsheviks uprising until the recent Arab spring, men got tired of their situation and decided to make a change. They knew that continuing to live under oppression is a choice. Their destiny was in their hands and they fought for it. For crying out loud, the oppressors are usually a minority. The black outs we suffer, the looting of our national coffers, the area boys littering the streets and harassing all and sundry. It is how we want it.  It is crystal clear to even a bat that we made the wrong choice last year, but we have a chance to make amends with our vote in 2015. Will we take the chance or watch it slip by as usual.  IT IS OUR CHOICE!  WE ARE THE FATES!

A great Hebrew leader knew this and when he was about to die following an impactful life, he called his people and gave them a choice. He said “choose you this day, whom you will serve. As for me and my house we will serve the lord”. He knew their choice would determine their future and that was exactly what happened. They chose the wrong side of the coin and came under very harsh subjugation by their enemies for thousands of years.

Lot chose a lush land and wasted his generation; Abraham chose his slave girl out of impatience and started an enmity that still rages today within his household. Yeah, the consequences of our choices stretch like a sea of desert sand from one generation to another even to eternity. Amazing, isn’t it?

Making a choice is like initiating a never-ending nuclear reaction which can produce useful energy or cause destruction of gargantuan proportions accompanied by radioactive fallout which affects the people around you for years on end sometimes.

Esau chose pottage, Demas went for the world, Judas settled for 30 pieces of silver, and Samson embraced Delilah. WHAT WILL YOU CHOOSE?

The best way to choose is to choose The One Who Was, Who Is and Who is to come in our decisions. He is there to assist if we can only reach out for his help. Engage the help of the One who knows tomorrow, who can see the future.

TRUST IN THE LORD WITH ALL YOUR HEART AND LEAN NOT ON YOUR OWN UNDERSTANDING. IN ALL YOUR WAYS ACKNOWLEDGE HIM AND HE SHALL DIRECT YOUR PATH……………………………………………….

20-0: THE END OF AN ERA

                                                          

I CRIED! Mind you, I did not boohoo like a child whose lollypop had been stolen by a bully, neither was it a torrential downpour akin to a desert storm. No, the tears slowly filled my eyes like sweet drops of palm wine filling a gourd, and then the gourd broke and filled my being with intoxicating and overwhelming emotions. The tears over flooded the banks of my eyes similar to a mangrove stream during the rains and clung to my lashes like lead weights which refused to drop. I felt like an overcast sky that was indecisive about shedding its watery load.

Wrestlemania 28 was sensational, to me the much hyped “once in a lifetime” fight between John Cena and the Rock did not meet the mark even though both men gave it their best. Something was missing that I cannot place my hands on. I personally think the Rock has gone past his best wrestling days. CM Punk and Chris Jericho were also cool but the matchup that stole the show was the one between The Undertaker and Triple H. It presumably might turn out to be Undertaker’s last fight hence the tag, “the end of an era”. And in the battle the Undertaker got his twentieth Wrestlemania victory, making it 20-0.

It was this match that made me cry. Over the years, different matches have made me go through a range of sentiments; I was deliriously euphoric when Ricky “The dragon” Steamboat beat Machoman “Randy” Savage in Wrestlemania 3, miserably sad when Hulk Hogan lost to the Ultimate Warrior in Wrestlemania 6 and completely heartbroken when Shawn Michaels defeated Bret “The Hitman” Hart in Wrestlemania 12 and anytime Jeff Hardy loses but no bout has ever made me cry.

Hold your horses bro! Before you brand my post as jejune for becoming schmaltzy over a scripted and stage managed sport, please hear me out. This is not necessarily about the sport/entertainment but it was about the performance of the two men. All the matches that night were most likely scripted about but these two men stood out over others like the Andes over mole hills. They gave that match their best shot. No one could have asked for more. If it turns out to be The Taker’s last bout, then no exit in the annals of wrestling can be more glorious.

Potential, purpose and Leadership Guru Dr. Myles Munroe always says that we should die empty, meaning we should live to the best of our abilities, give everything in us to this life so that we would not add to the wealth of the cemetery by joining hordes of others who led a mediocre life and carried the potential inside them to the grave. The greatest missionary that ever lived said he had been poured forth like a drink because before he died, he had emptied himself of his purpose of being. Jesus before giving up his ghost said “it is finished” and out of him gushed out his life juice, liters of blood. The Undertaker and Triple H gave their all, threw everything into the grueling mix, blood, sweat, name it. They had left footprints in the eternal sands of wrestling history which the winds of time would never erase. That day it was not about victor nor vanquished, it was about a sterling performance. And performance is what separates the sublime from the mundane.

Life is scripted for everybody, as a great Hebrew king made us know. He said all the days of his life had been chronicled by God ever before he was born. So, since the pages of our lives have been written by Originator of life, what now makes the difference is what we put in.  Just like in the movies where everything is written before the acting but some thespians separate themselves from the pack by giving all they have and go ahead to win Oscars like Heath Ledger in the Dark Knight (I keep citing that).

As those two future WWE Hall of famers carried their battered and bruised bodies from the ring that day to the thunderous applause of 78, 000 plus fans within the stadium in Miami and millions all over the world, I cried when I thought of how I will exit the grand stage. Russell Crowe in the Gladiator said “the things we do on this earth echoes on the shores of eternity”. Will I exit in a blaze of glory like Elijah on chariots of fire? Will the witnesses both present and those gone before applaud my performance? Will the King give me a standing ovation the way he did Stephen the martyr showing that I had done a good job and that He approves?

Will I exit the squared circle of life being fully persuaded that I had worshipped God with my all? Would I make the hall of fame in the golden corridors of heaven? Would I have my wife’s and my children’s commendation that I was the best husband and father they could ever have. Would I have used my talents and my potential to the hilt? Would I have managed my finances judiciously? Would I have made history, given and left a legacy for the world I would be leaving behind? Will I be able to say this like Paul the Missionary……..?

AS FOR ME, I FEEL THE LAST DROPS OF MY LIFE ARE BEING POURED OUT FOR GOD. I HAVE FOUGHT A GOOD FIGHT, I HAVE FINISHED MY COURSE, I HAVE KEPT THE FAITH. FINALLY THERE IS LAID UP FOR ME A CROWN OF RIGHTEOUSNESS………………………..

                                

THE DEA(R)TH OF imagi-NATION

                                                    

I live in Lagos. This metropolis is the most populous in Africa, the second fastest growing and the seventh fastest in the world. Living in this city is like palpating the pulse of Nigeria and even though its pace is absolutely frenetic, aside from Jos and Abuja I can’t imagine living in any other part of the country.

But as I pass through this Lagos every day, seeing people waiting interminably for transport in rain and sunshine, observing others being transported in rickety vehicles that are too tight to fit even match sticks while being choked in the thick smog of poisonous smoke being belched out by others, the irrepressible question that keeps coming to the fore of my mind like a buoy on a restless sea is if human beings were designed to live the way Lagosians or Nigerians (since this civic centre is a microcosm of the nation) live.

If you live on the mainland and work on the island or vice versa, sometimes you spend the better part of eight hours in traffic alone. Then you get home towards the better part of midnight and start battling with your generator sets because most times PHCN, the prince of darkness would have cast its cloak of shadows upon our civilization. Sometimes even with the availiabity of four generators, there would be no fuel to power them. Then there is the issue of water, even if we suddenly find ourselves in the future envisaged by the former bank PHB, where cars run on water, in Naija, loads of people will still walk to work due to scarcity of water. And the whole cycle plays on everyday becoming a life draining rat race. I know a lot of other parts of the nation don’t experience traffic the way it is in Lagos but the other challenges prevail everywhere.

Since the transport system of this country is messed up amongst other things and the government cannot utilize the waterways and provide an effective tube system, everyone takes to the road in their own cars thereby increasing traffic and pollution. Coupled with the long hours at the steering since everybody cannot afford drivers, Lagosians are perpetually in a daze of fatigue. So caught in this race of survival like a hamster in a cage running ceaseless on wheels, the question that comes up is, when do we think or imagine? When do we have the time to envision a better tomorrow for all mankind?

When God made man, He put him in an environment where every system was functional. There was power, light, water, name it before Adam was now placed in the garden to fulfill his potential (this is why i think it is ridiculous for most Nigerian companies to expect the best from their employees when all they provide is a deplorable work system. I guess they expect the workers to work with magic wands). In the cool of the day, man could also fellowship with God so everything was working. The psalmist exclaimed once about the King of kings, “how wonderful are thy works, thy thoughts are very deep”. That means that God was able to do great things like creating the universe because He had enough time to think and imagine. Man was formed in the image of God to function like God that is why the Elshaddai had to put him in Eden where everything was running smoothly to allow him enough time to be imaginative. Adam had enough imagination to name the animals and rule the world.

In this neck of the woods, you barely sleep before its time to wake up and continue the routine, the hum drum. Worse still, the sleep is interrupted by the groans of overworked generators. Lots of people are like walking zombies just going about not giving a thought to anything while performing perfunctory functions. I strongly believe that this is one of the reasons why this nation is the way it is.

Entrapped in the roller coaster of this joyless race, we barely have time to fellowship with God, relate with our spouses, commune with our families, invent and create things that would outlive us. We come, see but never conquer. We exit the grand stage leaving it the way we met it.

On the other hand, first world nations where the rat race is not as tiresome as ours, where the basic necessities of life are at least provided for churn out inventions that benefit the whole of mankind. For example in a roomy air conditioned transport, it is easier to think than when you are claustrophobic and ambushed with the odour of unwashed armpits (in this case all you can think about is about how fast you can each your stop).

Since we have a government that is as listless as a rudderless ship, we have to be intentional about creating a conducive environment for ourselves to think and imagine. Albert Einstein said imagination is better than knowledge.  If we cannot have time to think then we are walking a tight rope and this country will keep going backwards as other nations run past it with the speed of a jet fighter. There’s no great breakthrough that comes without some time of meditation and imagination. Jesus had forty days in the wilderness before he could launch his ministry, which has lasted for some two thousand years, Paul did some time in the wilderness too before he became the custodian of mind boggling revelations that has impacted generations, Heath Ledger locked himself away for about a month before he could deliver his magnus opus as the “Joker” in the “Dark Knight”.

Except we break away from the rat race, we would never really make any headway into the future and we would just watch while the things that mean the most in life die around us. Anything that prevents us from imagining is deleterious to our future. It was recorded that even God could not stop the united imagination of a couple of people in the early age of the world and had to put confusion in their midst to scuttle their plans. That is how powerful imagination is. Almost every outstanding thing on earth has its source from this.

OUR IMAGINATIONS ARE AS POWERFUL AS OUR PRAYERS!!! YOU KNOW WHY?

HE IS ABLE TO DO EXCEEDINGLY, ABUNDANTLY, FAR ABOVE ALL WE CAN ASK OR IMAGINE……………..

THE FIGURINE

                                                        

It took another four years. The last time I watched a Nigerian movie which made a lot of sense was in 2008 and that was “Jennifer”. After an interminable wait, I eventually watched “The Figurine”. The movie was worth every second of the wait, it was of the first water, a master piece.

How I usually know that a movie has gotten to me is when it hangs like a sweet mist over the evergreen consciousness of my mind and refuses to dissipate with the winds of time. This flick was that and much more, about top-notch in every department. The blend of Yoruba and English is smooth on the palate of the senses like the taste of Kopi luwak coffee on the tongue (I love movies where traditional languages are mixed with English, they are usually a delightful cocktail).

Paradoxically I found Kunle Afolayan’s languid insouciance refreshing, Omoli Oboli’s uxorial personality was so endearing. I have never been a fan of Ramsey Noah but after seeing the ease with which he metamorphosed from a sick nerd to a stone cold gentleman, I can’t stop doffing my heart. But the butter icing on the cake for me was Funlola Aofiyebi-Raimi; she was like pounded fresh green pepper that makes a meal of fresh palm oil and roasted yam absolutely delicious. Her diction soothes the ossicles like a cool shower on a hot humid day. Needless to say, I fell in love.

The drama was a moving gallery exhibiting African art; I particularly liked the tie and dye “buba and sokoto” that Mr. Afolayan wore when he and Ramsey went into the jungles of Araromire to return the figurine to its resting place. The subtitling was also done pretty well, a resounding message to Nollywood Yoruba movie producers who cannot subtitle their productions to save their lives. I wonder how they are able to thrive in the international market since no one will be able to follow their story lines intelligently. We need to take a cue from other countries like South Korea where an epic/classic like “Jumong” has flawless subtitling.  You don’t have to understand the language to understand its unfolding plot.
 
The only blip on the scintillating screen of their performance was the club Ramsey and Funlola had their night out. The place was too juvenile and common for such a classy duo.

The figurine could also be likened to a flowing brook filled with precious stones and the nuggets below were some of the gems I panned out of it.

The god araromire was made out of the bark of a cursed tree and it ultimately brings pain to its worshippers after an initial seven years of prosperity.  The earth is cursed and irrespective of how much happiness we get from its endowments, the elation wears off after a while. Sometimes they even bring unhappiness. The euphoria of getting the latest car, phone or the best house in the neighborhood diminishes with time and by seven years might even cause embarrassment compared to the ones that are up to date then. That is why people who manipulate and kill others for earthly gains are so FOOLISH because they will eventually get their comeuppance.

From the onset it was so clear that Omoni Oboli was making the mistake of her life by marrying Kunle Afolayan. They were not compatible; he was too unserious for her. Till tomorrow, I still wonder why everybody but the lady who makes the mistake of marrying the wrong dude can see that she is walking into a dark pit occupied by a black mamba. She lost her life for that mistake. How many ladies keep losing their limbs, lives, destiny for this error? It is quite disheartening!
 
The flippancy with which ladies get into relationships with guys they don’t know diddly squat about the way Funlola Raimi threw herself at Ramsey Noah is mindboggling. This rush in the name of an increasing age number is as foolish as a prospector leaving everything he has acquired in a life time for an imaginary gold rush and ending up with nothing but sand trickling through his fingers. For some it’s like committing suicide at twilight after waiting for so many years with your knight in shining armour galloping in to see you dead at dawn. It is not worth it. Ask Funlola Raimi, she almost paid with her life for the desperation of having a marriage ring on her finger.

What was wrong with my brother Ramsey Noah, why could he not just go for the ring of the Saturn of his heart? He watched the light of the castle of his affection dim without trying to ignite her fire. His love rode into the sunset with another man until all he had in his embrace was the cold feeling of regret. For crying out loud, what makes some homies not go after the ladies they love? Ramsey’s inaction was what led to all the trouble in the first place. This is not just all about love though, in every area of life, please folks, let’s seize the day! CARPE DIEM!

One other thing that struck me was how the Afolayans ran from pillar to post in search of a solution to the problems plagueing them but could not zero in to the panacea of liberation. That’s is so typical of life where dehydrated people settle for dwindling streams of brackish water instead of slaking their thirst with the crystal clear Spring of living waters.

But most importantly, what kind of god will make its people flourish for seven years of plenty, then destroy them. That is how the gods of this world are; they give with one hand and collect with another. They are evil and mean, ugly and wicked. They demand for human sacrifices, feed on blood and revel in destruction. Thankfully our God is not like that. He drips with love, his affection for us is overwhelming, all His gifts are good and perfect. An ancient Hebrew king said the Lord is good and he doeth good. His mercies endure forever. His thoughts towards us are precious, we can never number them, and beside them the numbers of the sands on the seashore seem countable. While others seek for the sacrifice of their followers, He readily sacrificed Himself. Behold what manner of love this King has for us. It is totally amazing. What great devotion from He who is so uncontainable that He can never be captured by a figurine.

THE BLESSING OF THE LORD IT MAKETH RICH AND ADDETH NO SORROWS TO IT!!!

THE PARODY OF OCCUPYING NIGERIA

                                                                        

I got much needed rest. It was a much needed one considering I live and work right in the heart of the maelstrom called Lagos. The one week that was used to occupy Nigeria afforded me that opportunity. I also used that week to navigate the crystal clear waters of African literature. The long draught I took from the spring of Buchi Emecheta’s “Double Yoke” was quite refreshing. It highlighted the fact that some of the things that have tormented Nigeria are still so much around after 30yrs and more.

The fact that Nigerians came out en masse to protest against our mediocre government for a full week and were spoiling to continue thereafter is one of the rare times I have ever felt so cool about Naija. This was to the chagrin of our so called leaders who felt that we are too complacent to fight for justice. To me it was a rally against fifty years of being fed with rubbish and considering the protest came like six weeks after my post THE GREEN LANTERN CORPS, I felt as pleased as a cat stuffed with prime cream.

But as the weeks rolled by, the whole thing kept rolling through my mind like cud being ruminated in the guts of a Hereford bull.  I went down deep into my mind like a scuba diver searching for pearls and the nugget I came away with is that the whole occupancy was an ELABORATE CHARADE, WAY before Nigerian Labour Congress sold out.

Truth is we were railing against leaders who are corrupt and selfish but these people are not Martians; they are a cross section of our society. They were picked from within us. They are part of us. Thing is if a something goes wrong with a cake, leaving some parts of it edible, all will concur that something that the cake has gone bad. If part of the human body is ill, then the whole body is sick. You don’t point just point a guilty finger to the liver or the kidney as the malfunctioning parts. A doctor tried to save the whole body. Something went terribly wrong with Nigeria a long time ago.

A few months back I went with the marketing team of my organization to sell a product to a tertiary institution and we met the student union, young students in their late teens and early twenties who called us after the presentation to ask for millions of naira in bribe before they can give us the contract. I later learnt that the same scenario occurred with the other companies prospecting with us. They were looking for the highest bidder and were not even interested in who would offer the best health services to their colleagues.

We live in a country where people take money and don’t give the services they were paid for, commercial drivers knowing well enough that their vehicles aren’t good take fares from passengers then drop them in the middle of nowhere, the huge branded transport companies do the same, administrative officers inflate prices of diesel, fuel and other things until they cripple an establishment, drug peddlers supply fake drugs in the bid of making quick bucks, politicians shed innocent blood to win elections (this one really gets me, these mean guys decry a fuel hike of a few hundreds but will be comfortable spilling invaluable blood, it’s a crazy joke). I heard about a local government Chairman who instead of filling the local dispensaries with drugs got his own home and filled it with a fleet of cars within six months. Of course he made some of his godfathers richer in the process. This country is filled with jokers worse than the one in Gotham city but sadly enough Batman is hardly in sight yet. Most of these people played an active part in the occupy Nigeria riots. It does not take a genius to know that these folks will do the same thing if they were in the position of the people they are fighting. It occurred to me that what most of these people fight is being on the receiving end of the system and not the system.

It has happened over and over again in human history; the Bolsheviks fought against and toppled the ruling class in Russia but caused the people more pain than they suffered in the time of the Czars. Uncle Mugabe did the same in Zimbabwe. Thing is you cannot fight fire with fire; a different entity with dissimilar characteristics is needed. You cannot be corrupt and fight a corrupt system. You fight fire with water, hate with love, and ignorance with knowledge etcetera.

For Jesus to beat the world’s system, He had to be at odds with the system and that is why He kept saying he was not a part of this world. He said the Prince of this world could not find anything in him. He was at variance with the logical order he came to destroy. The Galilean also told his disciples that they were in the world but not a part of it. That the government of that age could not stop their movement is not in any way surprising.

We need a different kind of men to change things, if not we can occupy Nigeria until hell freezes into an ice cold mountain range. All we will achieve will be going round in circles like a game of ring around the roses until we all get blue in the face and fall down in exhaustion.

It is written that “the log must be pulled out of our eyes before we can objectively see the speck in another’s”. This is the only way that occupying Nigeria would work and we might never even have to take to the streets ever again. Since the chosen will always be one of us, let the change begin with you and me. Let the revolution start within us. LET US START BY OCCUPYING OURSELVES.

DON’T CONFORM TO THE WORLD’S WAY OF DOING THINGS, BUT BE TRANSFORMED BY THE RENEWING OF YOUR MINDS, THAT YOU MIGHT KNOW THE GOOD, PERFECT AND ACCEPTABLE WILL OF GOD.

..........which TLC?

                                                                      

For some reason it has been difficult to let go of a lot of things I grew up loving, Entertainment Wrestling is one of them. Some of my friends have laughed it off as infantile indulgence but I have still stayed stuck to it like a Rastafarian to hashish. My wife has told me that the passion I have for it equates me with the wild mobs of ancient at Rome going wild with excitement while watching souls destroy themselves in the Coliseum. I actually thought hard about that one but still can’t help it. I think you have to be part of the WWE (World Wrestling Entertainment) universe to understand the thrills that come with the membership but that will be the post of another day.

WWE has structured their events in such a way that their fans always have a major pay-per-view event to look forward to every month. That is part of what keeps the promotion alive.

The one held last December was TLC. In this show, wrestlers that have a lot of bad blood between them go extreme using Tables, Ladders and Chairs to destroy their opponents which explain the acronym. It is usually such carnage but what got me thinking was that it was held during Xmas a festive season of joy and so much love. Quite incongruous I must say. It is certainly a wrong mix.

But the truth is that it is a reflection of our world. We live in a world created by Love (God is love) yet there is so much cruelty, hatred, wars, genocide, bloodletting, goring, smashing, bickering, quarrellings, savagery, abuse, malice, insults. We go at each other like fighting cocks, constantly display enough animosity to make a mongoose and a cobra seem like sparring chums. It is absolutely astonishing and heartrending. From the home to the classrooms, work places, markets, roads, churches, this scenario constantly plays out. It is really sad.

At the slightest provocation we bring out our fists faster than a Texan outlaw draws his .45 Colt. Venomous words pour from mouths like corrosive spittle from a serpent. Hurricane Katrina seems like a gentle breeze compared to the destruction left in the wake of some couples altercation while their children watch. Class rooms are riddled with bullets. We use our utterances like chairs to batter one another’s self esteem, throw down other people from the sky reaching ladders of enmity, and smash their hearts through the tables of violence, injuring spirit, soul and body in the process. We observe nonchalantly as relationships bleed away into nothingness and the shock is never felt until it is too late to salvage anything. Humanity is a mixed ball of yarn filled with the wounded and the hurting.

Ironically the panacea to the above is also TLC; the acronym in this sense stands for (TENDER, LOVING CARE). Tender touch, loving word and a caring nature.

I read about studies that have shown that couples who kiss each other live longer (pucker up and live long according to Zig Ziglar), children who grow up being touched fare better in life than those who do not. The scriptures are filled with examples of where Jesus healed people by touching them. In a particular instance a leper who went about with a bell telling people to give him a wide berth met Jesus and asked for healing and instead of Jesus covering his nostrils and speaking a healing word from a distance, He touched the leper. It was a tender touch of acceptance, a touch that said you belong, and a contact that removed the gulf that made him a pariah. The guy was made whole not just physically but emotionally. There was a woman with an issue of blood who by Jewish law was required to be sequestered in isolation because of her infirmity. The lady touched Jesus and got absolutely healed. The touch she gave was not an ordinary touch because a crowd was milling about Jesus. It was a pure and special touch that made the Master know that someone had touched him differently. This lady’s life was hemorrhaging away, relationships, finances, health; name it but she got her healing through a touch. Which issues are you having today? They might just be healed by a tender touch, an embrace of love. These stories show that a touch is healing for both the “toucher” and the “touchee”.

Healing words are quite essential as well. All through the history of man, we hear God whispering sweet something into ears and hearts. He affirms that he loves us with an everlasting love; we are the apple of his eyes. He tells us that even if the mountains were removed, his loving-kindness for us will remain; He said He proudly carries a tattoo on his hand which bears our names and so much more. Little wonder that His words are healing since they contain so much love. Good words are like water that makes people bloom like exotic flora.

Thirdly, a caring nature will help to heal the hurts in our world. Instead of being prickly as human hedgehogs, let us care more for one another. We should begin to love our neighbours like ourselves like the Son of David told us to. The man was caring. There was a time when he had a seminar for families numbering more than five thousand and there were limited resources after the programme but he insisted that the crowd was hungry and they should be fed even though his men resisted the idea. Another time his disciples went fishing all night and caught nothing but before they came back in the morning, He had made breakfast and had a fire going for warmth because he knew they would be cold and hungry. Jesus did all these even though he had recently being betrayed by his friends.

The thing about Tables, ladders and chairs is that it maims, cripples and could even lead to death. It shortens careers and life span. They that live by the sword shall die by the sword (check out Ghaddafi). You sow violence, you reap violence.

So which is it for you……..TABLES, LADDERS and CHAIRS or TENDER LOVING CARE?

THE CHOICE IS YOURS! But remember which ever choice you make will determine how you will fare in the ring of life and thereafter. Instead of hacking people down the way a native Indian slashes at entangling brush in the floor of a rainforest.

It would always help us to remember that………………….

……………………………………………. LOVE IS KIND…………………………………..

EROS' ERRORS!

                                                                        

I absolutely love romance! Oh, the sheer magic of it! I wonder about my love for it sometimes since it’s gotten me a lot of flak from the wife recently for allowing the madness of Lagos to dry up my creative juices. But there is no denying that it is so beautiful and heartwarming. Anytime I remember Sabrina being serenaded by the musical group hired by Jason before he proposed in “jumping the broom” a sweet incandescent fire lights up within my heart and gently spreads through every fiber of my being. I can watch that scene a gazillion times. What about great romantic stories woven around it like that of Cupid and Psyche, totally engrossing! I guess if I were an ancient Greek heathen, I would have bred swans in honor of Aphrodite, the mother of Eros (Cupid), the Greek god of romantic love and desire.

All the fallout of amour is attributed to this brother. Rains of kisses, drizzle of chocolates, lines of poetry, forests of roses, the rollercoaster high of it all. This guy sure is something (anyone that controls romance certainly is for me). A sip from his pool will beat any drink that Bacchus brews any day. I like the dude. Of course I sought his friendship and made him my pal.

Unfortunately as I got to know him better, our friendship started going awry. I am not the kind of guy that gets unnecessarily carried away. As I observed his ways, I noticed there was something wrong with his magic. It lacked the kind of potency I sought for. The relationships he created petered out like a rivulet of water in the desert. They had the lasting power of tapestries woven in the loom of an arachnid. I wanted more, I want something that will last forever, something that will make me live happily ever after.

In all honesty, I love his imagination, he waves a wand over a bloke and the Romeo gets the idea to propose to his Juliet in a glassy submarine swimming in the guts of an ocean while guppies and marlin gaze on in bright eyed wonder and sea anemones clap their colourful tentacles in ceaseless amazement. The whole arena is lit by floating water resistant bulbs in the shape of oyster shells and quietly in the background Kenny G in conjunction with Chante Moore masterfully mixes the windy enchantment of the sax with sugared throaty tones producing a cocktail of delightful music. The whole experience is spellbinding. But a few months down the line, the two are deeply immersed in a messy altercation/divorce. Something is certainly wrong here and that is my grouse with Mr. Eros. Love should be forever, endless, eternal.

During Valentine season when Mr. Eros is mostly venerated, there is enough romance in the atmosphere to make Shakespeare speechless but paradoxically, the cauldrons of mother earth froth over with implacable hatred. It’s a befuddling occurrence, a shameful sham. Check out my earlier post VALENTINE BLUES .

Princess D had it all, castles, princes, flowers and horses, but I can almost wager she died of a broken heart. There is sure a missing link, a lost piece in Mr. Eros romantic puzzle.

During my ruminations, I met another fellow, who is not as glamorous but there was something about his own ways that appealed to me. His name is Agape and he is the custodian for charitable love, the God kind of love.  His kind of love is committed and practical. His love is the real deal. It is not fleeting, IT’S ETERNAL!!! This was the kind of love that made Jesus love and die for humanity even with all our depravity.

When push comes to shove, Eros gives way but as unexciting and as unglamorous Agape might seem to be, it is stronger than death. While Eros only lasts when the going is good, Agape goes the whole hog. Eros makes the mistake of being carried away by the zephyr of romance and does not bother to see the face behind the bouquet of flowers not knowing if it is a beast that would smack its chops while feasting on the raw pieces of one’s heart. Agape sees everything, warts and all and still decides to love deliberately, intentionally and unconditionally. Some I know say “ if you love me, love my fart”, that is Agape for you (for God commendeth his love towards us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us). Agape would keep loving until the Beast turns into a lovable prince.

Agape believes the best, when your partner forgets to get a gift on a memorable day, it would make excuses but Eros would fight like a wounded boar until someone is left bleeding or hurting. He would charge like a bull in a china shop until emotions have been destroyed like delicate crystal. Eros can be merciless, Agape is merciful.

Eros is mostly self centered, he would saturate you with champagne, forget-me-nots and earrings made from lapis lazuli for sex or for the security he gets from being around you or for your money or because his esteem gets pumped up when he becomes the cynosure of all eyes as both of you walk into a restaurant (selfish bugger that he is). In contrast Agape is selfless, he would carry a cross; go through any kind of pain for his beloved.

Eros insides are darkened with bile, he would continually wave score cards of how you did not do this and how you did not do that, he never lets go of a grudge but Agape never keeps scores.

I am not saying romantic love is bad but it’s like the spice that adds flavor to a dish. It’s not the main dish and no one can live on spices. We need real meals to survive. Charitable love is the real dish, the main course and it is only through it that relationships can survive. Of course when the spices are added it makes the meal more delectable.

I think it is sheer folly and madness to build the foundation of our relationships solely on Cupid, a blindfolded cherubic baby who flys about shooting arrows at random.

For true love to flourish, we have to allow God flow through our hearts… FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HAS BEEN SHED ABROAD IN OUR HEARTS BY HIS HOLY SPIRIT…….

In a world where everything is crumbling with failing systems, we need the COMMITTED pillars of Agape. Eros will always come short of the mark despite the fact that Cupid has been shooting his arrows since time immemorial. He still can’t hit the bull’s eye of our hearts no matter how much he tries. All his shots are like the occasional high induced by drugs but…..

LOVE (AGAPE) NEVER FAILS…………………