The events of these recent days sit beside my right foot, with legs gathered together and hands tucked in-between; the position of a sad-faced child, who is grudgingly fed by its stepmother. And as we sat together, balls of tears crawled out quietly from the lips of many eyelids, ran down slowly with a cold movement through the cheeks and then, found their seats on the floor. The mother earth as always, received the hearts of her children into her maternal bosom; she dried those tears. Words don’t often follow us into the grave yard and so, we were all quiet. Only the innocent breeze managed to squeeze out some sounds. But they too, were careful.
My country’s backyard has indeed become a living graveyard of corpses. Violence has become the new method of exchanging pleasantries. Anyone could easily be swooped by the feet and flung onto a gibbet. Why? For something, as little as reacting on a keyboard ruled platform.
Mothers are being de-mothered and fathers de-fathered as sons and daughters are continuously sent on errands into graves by fellow men, who shall one day, too, kiss the sand thuds of a grave. And so, men and women grope in the fear of not knowing who dies next. All because of the monsters we have become.
The other time, I was at a bank and had just finished my transactions and was about to head for the electronic bank hole for exit. Then, I saw a sight that I never forgave: the red eyes of a young mother dripping tears. ‘ please help me send a text message to my son……..(her words choked with tears and I buried my eyes into my legs)”. That was all she could let out. What happened ma? I tried to inquire. “ I was just robbed and everything was collected from me including my phone”. That very moment, more tears flowed down her cheeks. It was as though they accompanied those words in an entourage. I felt the pains of an already suffering mother, who had just been subjected to a more saddening sadness by men who were themselves born by mothers. What sort of heart is able to withstand the tears of a mother?
In those tears, I saw lines of sadness and sorrow for those stolen sweats , toils and moils. But, that is the sort of monsters we have become. Our hearts have grown cold to ill-sights. Something that had never happened in the elder days has now happened: we have grown eyes that are used to blood.
My dear friends, which way are we headed? One thing is for sure: God still lives. And, let me quickly remind my friends who make men and women weep that, like my people say ‘igwe lile jeko n’uzu’ ‘all metals are heading to the blacksmit’s workshop. They too, who have become givers of death, shall in due time receive from God the death they serve others on a dish. All men die…of course! But it is how we die that makes the difference and determine what happens next.
The devil has really been shocked beyond words by this generation. Indeed, the monsters we have become bedevils the devil.
May God help us through Christ our Lord.