Could life be a dream?

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 25^th 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.