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| THE ADVENT |
Could life be a dream? The
minute I parked my car in front of Protea Hotel Ikeja, I saw four ladies coming
directly towards me as if they knew me before. They stood with their face
tilted looking at mine with such a loving smile. They dressed half naked in
silky and transparent cloths, with tattoos over their skinny bodies. I was
wearing a bulky sweatshirt, leaning on the side of my car facing Isaac John Street.
I made calls that had lasted for five minutes yet they waited till I finished.
As I turned to face them, one of the ladies had crossed her legs, and her
dress, which had slipped up to her knee, revealed shapely slender legs, in artificial
colours. Another lady quickly showed me flowers hanging in her chest. I let my
eyes drift over the flower appreciating it, then I looked back into her eyes as
if I knew the symbol of the flower and then recalled when I was driving to the
hotel from the city centre, about 3km from Murtala Muhammed International
Airport when I thought to myself that it would have been better to drive home
to see my family first than to the hotel.
Imprisoned by the
emotions, I reached out my hand and held the two of the ladies, feeling the
coolness of their hands in my hands, I took them to the swimming pool in the
hotel, taught them how to shoot a 22 rifle and even instructed them how to
swim. With ice cream in our hands, we returned to the hotel hall to eat and
watch a bit of television.
When we were settled in
the hotel hall, one dance hall girl bearing the number “2” came from the other
side of the stage still in her nightgown held my hand and then took me to the
stage to dance. She started dancing before me. Her body was young and boneless,
she seemed scarcely to be holding me at all, but we melted together and danced
as if we practiced prior to the time. We talked, sang and danced, took photos
and promised to write each other as we descended the stage with standing
ovation emanating from the hotel hall. I did not mind spending my time and my money
in the hotel because I was on cloud nine. After spending hours enjoying with
them, I decided to take those four ladies to my home.
On entering my car,
those ladies were already seated and immediately I started the car, double
check all the mirrors, turn head behind
to revise, I heard a very familiar voice of Nnadi Faith calling me, “Izunwaonu,
please tear two sheets of paper for both of us, I have written something in the
centre of mine…
Without realizing that
I was dreaming, I momentarily closed my eyes again and actually delayed opening
my eyes for just a fraction to make sure it was not actually happening. The
last thing I remembered was when the lecturer entered the lecture hall. I did
not hear when he said that he was going to conduct a quiz after teaching but
Jane Ijeom averred that he did say it.
Even though I wrote the
quiz, I failed it because what he set was what he taught that day and no way I could
pass it when I was sleeping throughout the class period.
This was what I would
have prevented but allowed myself to be imprisoned by “sleep”. The sleep that
always remind me of the season we are. The season I always term as the end time
reminder. Just like in today’s Gospel,
Jesus challenged us to watch and pray at all times, so that the day of the Lord
(QUIZ) does not come upon us unprepared. Every day is a new opportunity for us to
draw closer to God and we should not allow ourselves to be imprisoned by the
things of the world.
After reading BenedictAgbo’s Friday 25th November homily which he titled “MY WORDS WILLNOT PASS AWAY!” It became certain to me
that the end must surely come that we should not allow ourselves to be lulled
into slumber rather be prepared for the “end”. “…The most important message is the glorious
triumph of the children of God at the end of time.” Ben Agbo said.
We may forget the need
to wake up because of the things of the world that would pass away, as I was
captivated by my dreamscape. Our physical lives have many similarities with our
dreams when we sleep. They are both temporary: while dreams may last minutes or
an hours our life span may just last for some years. For the youths who think
that the end time is for the old people… sorry, if you look at how things
happen now, you find out that the youths die more than the old.
When I was dreaming
where I was spending money with women, riding cars… I never remembered that I had
not paid the lecture’s hand-out N200. So my brothers and sisters, everything in
this world is temporal. Let it not deprive us our main goal which is to return
to our creator. Happy First Sunday in Advent.
