******
I have always
believed an arcane machination to disrupt the delicate balance of life, by
influences beyond my comprehension existed. I have also, unequivocally
acknowledged that we are not alone, and that our actions were being scrutinized
and recorded by a higher power for future retrospection. Even though I
sometimes wished my beliefs were wrong so that I could somehow justify my
iniquitous existence, I still believed. When I was much younger and blinded to
the deeper imports of our existence, I had believed we just simply existed out
of a whiff. I mean literally existed without the craftsmanship of something
greater. But who could blame me, after all I was just three years of age when I
had reached that naive conclusion.
Forty three
years after those naive thoughts, my perception has changed tremendously. My
experiences in life has made an unflinching believer off me because my life in
a nutshell has been by a far stretch, a very tumultuous one. Despite the fact
that my life had been filled with one too many disappointments and personal
tragedies, I still held on. I held on because I learnt that without faith, it
is impossible to please the maker. Try as hard as you wish, work as hard as you
will, it will be for nought, because you cannot just please him without it.
******
My earliest
memory of the bitter taste of disappointments and personal tragedies was at the
tender age of five. I had woken up that Saturday morning overly excited because
it was my birthday. My father had promised to travel back home to celebrate
with me, but sadly, he never did. The fact that he never did wasn't as a result
of negligence or an error of forgetfulness or lack of concern, but as a result
of the most infelicitous of circumstances. My father had died in an auto crash
accident on his way to Ibadan, where we resided and the sinister part was that
the fifteen other passengers in the same crash all survived unscathed. I and my
brother were too young to understand the magnitude of the situation but my
mother on the other hand, took it hard. She wept her soul out, tore off her
hair, starved herself, blamed the cruel world and questioned her maker
relentlessly.
She was
heartbroken, a woman completely torn by a despair she never recovered from. She
denounced her religious beliefs, neglected I and my little brother and withdrew
from the world as she saw it. She escaped into a place within her, where I
presume and hope she found solace. Months later, she selfishly followed suit in
our father's unfortunate path and thus left us alone in this cruel world. For a
time, I couldn't bring myself to yield through the path of forgiveness until I
came upon this piece of quote from a poem by Alexander pope, "To err is human; to forgive,
divine". The message was so abstruse in its simplicity that I came to
these stark realizations; with forgiveness follows inner peace and tranquility.
Also, if the maker could forgive my trespasses, who was I not to forgive my
mother's weakness and desertion?
With our
parents gone, we were obliged to live with our uncle Jide who had no kids of
his own. In his house, we lived in subjugation because uncle Jide's wife made
us pay for her incapability to bear the fruit of the womb. Uncle Jide also
meted out his own form of horror by sometimes creeping into my room late at night
to perform sacrilegious acts on my person. On nights like that, I'd weep
bitterly, lash out at the maker and question his motives for allowing this
befall us righteous children. But in the end I prevailed and still believed. I
still believed even after Yemi my brother, a haunted and lost soul who had been
tortured by the inequities of life, took to the streets and began to commit all
sorts of atrocities. I haven't set eyes on him till this day and I know not if
he still breathes.
I struggled
with physical, mental and psychological abuses while undergoing my secondary
school education and finally, battled my way into the University of Ibadan for
my tertiary education. In my third year, my English Professor, Prof Adekunle,
left me with a hard choice; his bed or my guaranteed failure in his course.
What he offered went against all my morals, so I adamantly refused and reaped
the heavy dividends. I repeatedly took the course, failed and spent two extra
years in school, yet I prevailed.
When Aminat
Musa, a close friend of mine questioned the direction of my faith and wondered
if they weren't misplaced. I remained firm and reminded her that by faith, Noah
prepared an ark and believed it will not be crushed. By faith, Abraham
traveled, looking for the Promised Land. By faith, Sarah was able to give birth
to a child when she was past the age of child bearing. By faith Moses' parents
weren't afraid of the king's command and hid him for three months. By faith,
the same Moses chose to associate himself with the children of God rather than
immerse himself in the riches he was entitled to as the adopted son of
Pharaoh's daughter. By faith, Moses left Egypt not fearing the wrath of the
king. By faith also, the Israelites passed through the Red Sea and the walls of
Jericho crumbled.
These were
all different people in different times with more hardship and lesser
opportunities, but they all had one thing in common, hope. And they all died
for it without having received the promises, but rather, having perceived it.
What was perceived convinced them to embrace and confess that they were but
mere strangers and sojourners in this bitter cold world. They all strongly
believed in what they did not yet possess and died without receiving it, so who
was I to act otherwise?
By then, I
had already come to understand that our world was framed by the sacred words of
the maker, such that things which can be seen are not made of things which do
seem to appear. Simply put, we should go in accordance with the biblical
account of our creation, rather than any other opposing theories. Few have
agreed with this line of thought and more have labeled it blind faith and
therefore pointless. But I ask them these;
Does blind faith exist? Is it a valid phrase in the
actual sense of its supposed significance? Aren't we making a common
grammatical blunder by placing blind before faith and thus making the phrase an
almost useless repetition?
I ask all
these because faith is said to be an assurance of things hoped for and the
evidence or proof of things not seen. Faith is blind and I am not expected to
see what I believe, I just believe because I know there is a higher being and
he resides in my heart. So I proposed another line of enquiry;
Are we being blinded by our faith or lack thereof? Or
were we born blind to the stark spirituality of this world, and thus left with
no other choice than to believe in what cannot be perceived?
I have held
on to my beliefs because I made myself left with just that choice. And it had
filled me with great joy that because I had held on, I had finally found
happiness when I got married to Tunde, the man I loved. I still believed even
when we searched for the fruit of the womb for seven years to no avail. I still
believed even after the pressure from his family had forced him to take another
woman for his wife. I felt so much hurt but still believed when I witnessed the
birth of their three beautiful children, children that could have been I and
Tunde's. And I still believed even after I was eventually diagnosed of having
terminal cervical cancer.
Even on my
death bed, I believe more than ever because I can now feel him, for he hasn't
deserted me. I have no one here to comfort me physically but the spiritual
comfort showered upon me can never be replaced by all the physical comfort in
the world. My time is near and my energy slowly dwindles to a trickle. I feel
the cancer cells voraciously devouring my inside, but I also feel his
comforting presence the strongest. It is like the warm soothing feel of the
early morning sunlight on one's face after a refreshing night rest. The feeling
holds my pain captive and plasters a smile on my face because I know that even
though I have lived a tragic life, I will die filled with mirth. For the first
time in my life, I am at peace with myself and I will die smiling because I can
now feel some of the things Abraham, Joseph, Noah and the others perceived but
never received, and it is only because I believed.
These are my
last words, this is my testament. This is the legacy I leave behind for others
like me, who have been treated unfairly by their lot in life. All these I have
written as a symbol of hope for them because a human devoid of hope, is in a
perpetual state of self inflicted sorrow. So hold my words dearly and celebrate
my life for its all I ask. Remember my name for I have no one on earth to
accord me such honors. Remember the name, Adeola Folorunsho for this is my
testament of hope.
