Unveiled

The Word of God is not just the Truth and Will and Wisdom of God, but the mirror of our identity. It is the mirror that reflects who we are as individuals and as a people. And nothing else, in the whole wide world, can give us the complete meaning and definition of ourselves. For being all that we need for life and godliness, the Word is ultimately applicable to how, in full self-awareness, we take on the world. So, in “knowing thyself” the Word is most definitely our best bet. 

However, only in continued fixation on the realities of the Word, can we draw to the full realization of who we are – like realizing the powers and graces that we possess by inheritance as Kings and Queens.

Yes, we are of royalty, of a magnitude that far exceeds earthly crowns and sceptres. We are a light and a blessing of glorious influence to the world. We are God’s battle axe – a force of nature with limitless and incomparable power. And even most importantly, we are God’s instrument and expression of love.

That’s who we are. And of course, that’s just naming a few. Thus, *Anyone who listens to the Word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at  his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. But the man who looks intently in the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues to do this, not forgetting what he has heard, but doing it-he will be blessed in what he does.

*Scriptural Verse: James 1:23-25 (NIV)

How We Go Up, Up

Our ascension in life is principally dependent on what we know. By stark human experiences, I have come to terms with this old truth and realized that indeed, knowledge is power. For the weak, poor or worthless man is the way he is for lack of knowledge. He is destitute merely because he doesn’t know his way out of ignorance. So, whatever shackles that may hold him down, be it spells of witchcraft spawned from his village or the misfortune of being ruled by corrupt leaders, his only way out is to face squarely the “How?” of the matter, and then spend his time finding out the answer. And in finding the answer, would he, by his own hands, create the footholds for his climb out of the darkness, into the light.

Making Certain Our Dreams

Somewhere on the Lagos Island, near Race Course, you find a billboard with the message, “Make your dreams come true”. It is so big and bold in a way that no bystander with eyes can avoid seeing it.

It’s in ways such as this that this very message, so urgent and pressing, has been drummed repeatedly into our heads. It is the clarion call that says to us, “You cannot give up now, but make certain your dreams come true”.

For our own sakes, let’s not act as though we are deaf to this reasoning! For life, to every one of us, is but a short time between eternities. The time to rise to the occasion is now, not tomorrow. This time is when we stop letting dreams be nothing more than dreams.

Let a great measure of curiosity possess our minds. Let’s seek to know what latent power lies within us. Let’s bring to bear all that we are, so the world will have no doubt of having met us.

By will, by faith, by our heart and sinew and nerve, by all that is in us we must make it against all odds. Excuses must not and never be our defense.

And be it that when the years have well come upon us, our children should brim with pride when we tell of our journey’s tale. A tale of dreams accomplished.

Half Letter [A Silver Lining In Gaddafi’s Mess]

Dear Colonel Gaddafi,

Shoes don't come falling down for no reason. These shoes, embedded with the meaning, “we hate you and we want you to disappear from our lives forever,” were all along going to find your head eventually. You should have known you had it coming. You should have prepared, and saved yourself the pain of being stoned, loathed and insulted by your own people.

But that is not the issue. It is not the reason I have decided to write to you, my comrade and friend. I write to you for a bigger cause, and in the midst of your present crisis, I trust that what I have to say would cheer you up, lighten your mood, and at least, make all your vain attempts at controlling the Libyan uprising count for something. I'd like to call it the silver lining in all the mess and commotion you have created in Tripoli and the rest of Libya. 

As a fellow oppressor, I think I have learned a very meaningful lesson from your predicament. Thanks to the event of your woes, I wouldn't have seen it. It came to me like an epiphany, in three words: “Dictators Are Buffoons”.  Why, for the first time I realized the reason people revolted in spite of our efforts to contain them with fear and………

Okay, okay… I think now is a good time to stop writing this letter. If I continue I fear I might begin to mock too seriously. The man Gaddafi deserves some sympathy, at least….a little tiny bit. I confess I don't know the Colonel personally. I am not a despot like him, I am neither his friend nor comrade, and most importantly, I wouldn't want to treat his difficulties too lightly. However, if I were truly his friend, I might have sent a letter to him in such a fashion as written, of course, without the ridicule and malice – for I would be but a true comrade.

For the purpose of the letter, I would have said the obvious to him: “domination is never foolproof”, especially against the enduring power of the human spirit. For never has cruelty and oppression lasted well with humans - who like birds want nothing more than to be free.

If only Gaddafi had sought to inspire his people rather than oppress them over his four decades as head of state, I think his leadership would have ended well with a legacy to be proud of – one of love and respect. Now, for his methods and ways, he has lost all credibility and influence as a leader.

I point to this because I believe it cuts across every form of leadership and influence in human relations. In the story of Muammar Gaddafi, I think we all have a lesson to learn. I'd bet on it that we'd all prefer and choose the love of our families, friends and influences over their shoes.  For a true and lasting legacy lies not in things, but in our relationships, in the hearts of those we love and care for. 

*Cartoon by Liza Donnelly 

IN THIS ONE, CURIOUSITY SAVED THE CAT

Much like a scientist, I once had a deep interest in  practical experiments. In my case, my test subjects were never other humans (or animals) but my very dear self. It is I, so to speak, you'd find sprawled on the dissecting table, at the mercy of my own poking and scrutiny. Curiosity was essentially my middle name, and I did seek experience with the singular purpose of taking the ride for myself -  experimenting on everything that tickled my fancy. 

So in light of this, I'd like to beg the reader's indulgence in regarding me, even if for just this moment, as an authority on the subject of “Trying It Out For Yourself”.

You know, firsthand knowledge is always the best, far much better than any other means of getting to know about a thing. For instance, I wouldn't have fully grasped the high-marijuana­- induced-feeling expressed by the nameless protagonist in the book, The Beautiful Ones Are Not Yet Born, if I hadn't tried it out for myself. Though his arguments were quite convincing about the benefits of smoking weed, I still had to get high to know exactly what he meant…as intimately as possible. 

In like manner, I have tested and explored the flagrant life of a Casanova. With exuberance and with much, much alacrity I have dated many different girls, particularly based on their geographical representation - all in the name of sampling. And the reason was simply that I wanted to know: like, how does the Tiv girl differ from the Calabar, the Hausa from the Yoruba? Bad, bad I know, but wait... I didn't stop there, for  against my better judgment, I have even tried out what it would feel like to be a drunkard within a testing period of six months. Even the thrill of gambling didn't fall below my radar; for all the betting joints knew me very well. And at the end of all my shenanigans, I genuinely could say that “I had been there and done it all”.

However, in spite of my debauched tendencies, the goodness in me also cried out for some adventure. I wanted to take the trip to know God for myself. And although my interest was inspired by the words of the preacher, I wasn't - as usual - contented in just being told how it's like. Instead, I wanted to prove with my own eyes and mind all that the pastors claimed in their Sunday sermons. Was it truly possible for me to live a life of liberty – a life free from the corruption of this world? Could I really possess powers qualified as incomparable? And most tantalizing of all, is there a chance under heaven I'd actually get to know a spirit God on a personal level? Such were the questions that rambled in my head. But they all remained bull (of course, without the “shit”) as long as it all ended with what the pastors said.