God the Father, the sun and my wishes

God the Father, the sun and my wishes

“To God the Father, the sun and wishes I live. To God I bring my praises, fears and rage. My mother always says; ‘my boy commit your ways into the hands of God’. My pastor says; ‘surrender your all to Him… For His plans are of good and not of evil’. My father says; ‘work, watch and pray… The secrets to wealth, health and riches are in the one true God’. (For my father is also my pastor). The brethren say; ‘He maketh all things beautiful in His time’. This preacher promises on behalf of God. He says; ‘peace, security, wealth and joy in all ramifications will be mine if I give my all to the sovereign God.
I keep pondering on how awesome this God is; on how beautiful his plans are. But I don’t feel like the church was made for me; I don’t feel like love was made for someone like me. As much as I try to be one who serves the only true God, the sun, my wishes and my desires kind of get in the way. For every time, I fear to be just like a living shaft. For the poorest in my church once prayed to be rich; he’s deep in the faith, works like the clock but wallows in poverty. But God is a righteous God.
“My heart is as heavy as lead, for where was God when all my siblings died before I came? Where was He when my twin sister left before we were even a week old? For I still miss her being by me. Where was God chilling when my younger sister came out just to be without a voice? These are only few of many questions I can’t stop asking as I look up into the sky. For where was Yahweh when this hole became too deep through my chest? But God is a righteous God who doeth no evil. But I guess this is my world, no one seems to understand me but that girl over there looks so good and her kitties are full and fresh, but God says, “do not pluck”. For even with my mind have I sinned. And Heaven and hell is real while the whole essence of life hides in the light right before my eyes. For God hates iniquity but I’m only human too. I am Tobee Williams and I just want to share a bit of my life’s journey with you. It could be the last that I share with you.
Right from the start, I’ve always been a miracle. Since the beginning, I’ve been a hell of a strong dude. Too strong for fears and tears to break. But it’s impossible to understand me; not a single bit of me will you ever comprehend. But I’m telling you about me not for you to try to understand me. I just want to empty my heart to feel free again.
Trust me when I say nobody loves me; or maybe those who do are just too ashamed of loving someone like me. I feel like a living only on my birthday; my world comes alive the moment it’s 12am on the 19th of the sixth month. I wish everyday could be my birthday even though the love feels too basic. Believe me when I say I have no friends; not a single soul would stand by me through my darkest moments. For the past 21years of my life, I’ve watched friends who promised to stick around, leave. I’ve watched people who swore to the heavens that they loved me and would never leave me; I’ve watched them say “I’m sorry, I’m leaving, I need to be happy and free again”. I’ve seen people love me for just three days and on the fourth day they cry that I’m so impossible and weird for them. Everything feels like a movie now. Maybe it’s all my fault and maybe its not. Maybe I’m too good a soul to love or maybe Im not good enough for anyone. Even my parents don’t trust me. They say; ” we know you have a lot hidden within you… We are not proud of you son”. It doesn’t hurt anymore; at least not as much as the first time they said those words to me.
I’m this skinny, short, small boy looking like a kid even in his twenties. No one wants a small boy; even the smallest girl won’t love a small boy. No doubts, I’m cute and handsome but maybe God was the reason I came being this small looking boy with a lanky body. It’s my felony, don’t envy me. I started battling with a serious chest problem since eleven. All my mother told me was that a rib or two lays too firmly to my heart. The doctor said it could cause a hole in my heart overtime. You won’t understand the pain I feel from a broken heart eleven years gone by now. You cannot understand how it feels when you cannot laugh so hard because your chest won’t let you. My love for playing soccer grew cold overtime just because I can no longer last so long on a pitch. You’ll never understand how pleasing I feel when people see me and laugh so hard because I don’t look so healthy. They say “Tobee looks like a kid with no home (Leeemao!!!)”. No one will ever understand how hard I’m trying to look good; since no one wants to understand that there’s a reason for everything. But for eleven years now, my parents say God can do all things, yet I get worse as the seconds count. My brethren say there’s nothing God cannot do; but I still cry everyday hoping someday, I’ll be whole again. But it’s life I guess. For some it gets so sweet, for others it tastes like vinegar. For me it’s just life upon life upon life, being served on a plate for me. But God sits on the throne and makes all things beautiful in His time.
Cheers to the first girl I ever loved. I was seventeen when she caught the whole of my attention. You may choose not to call it love but at least I know how I felt. She was bright and beautiful; fair, clear, skinny and clean. Even though I was her two-year senior at that time in secondary school, I loved her just the way the snail loves its shell; I guess she was my shell. I was in Ss2, she was in Jss3. Don’t blame me for anything. I don’t think we get to choose who we fall for. She meant everything to me; she was as sweet as the lilies and cool like the ocean. I’m still not sure if she loved me too, but I got a little close to her and told her how I felt about her. She was scared; I was going to leave school soon and forget about her. Nothing tangible happened between us, we just left it as being good friends. She was a gold I tried to mine; I tried to make her mine, but I guess life said she wasn’t to be mine or maybe it’s God.
Love and I are two different entities or maybe two chronic enemies. For love has tossed me to and fro, thrown me up and down and made me just like a fool. Believe me when I say, “Only fools love”. For love is for those who feel comfortable being fools. Love looks so ugly to the wise. Love gets beautiful only when we lose our minds. Lovers become mysterious to onlookers who keep wondering how love makes them feel.
There’s only a thin line between insanity and sanity, only a slim line separates the foolish from the wise. It’s only a thin line messing with my mind; who God really is and what life really is. The difference between life and God keeps me up all night. For some say, “Life’s not fair”, but He made life. You’d say I’m crazy if I say, “God’s not fair”. Maybe life and God are two different entities or maybe we all are just pragmatic humans expecting the heavens to pour down as rain.
So, today, it’s a day which the Lord hath made. I’ll just stay in my room and watch pornos till the day fades away. Naomi banxx, Kira Noir, Brittney White, Nicole Beverly and Cassidy banks are my favorite acts. I’ll just light up my mind, have some little wanks and get high on music and smoke all alone today. Maybe the Lord God will save me in church someday. But today is the day I take to get away from the world and its vices. Today is the day I stop to run from my addictions. Let me face them; something must kill a man.
I hope you don’t blame me for anything. I hope you don’t say in your mind that “Tobee is a bad boy”. I hope you’re not quick to say my sins will drown me. Don’t you ever think you’re in anyway better than I am. I’m not saying a golden crown is waiting for me up there in heaven, but you don’t have to pretend you have a glittering crown too. We are all on our ways to hell. Maybe not just the same sins will lead us there; maybe not just the same plane will land us there. Yeah, I feel guilty when I go to church. But the pastor keeps saying that grace is enough for me. He says I’m whole now; His blood atoned for me. Nevertheless, I am as white as snow in church. But my sins show up again a step away from church. Maybe my salvation is in church. Maybe the church is where I belong. But maybe my sins are beautiful to my soul.
Don’t think I haven’t tried my best to be a saint. Don’t think my eyes have not cried in regret for my soul. Don’t think my mind is all at peace with my soul. You should never for once think I am happy doing all that I do. It becomes a sin on your part when you think like that. But the grace my Pastor talks about; the blood he preaches about, I don’t think they are working for me. I don’t think they ever will. I don’t think they were made for a disgust like me.
Let’s talk about the sun. But how shall we talk about the sun without talking about God? But cheers to the sun for not hiding us in the dark all day. Thanks to the sun for always making us see the beauty in nature; beauty in the things that feed our eyes. But I blame the sun for the first time. I feel, if only the sun stood still that day just like the days of Joshua… For there’s total evil in the dark; but evil tastes so delicious in the dark. If only the sun stood still a little longer.
How shall we explain falling into temptation while trying to study the word of God? For it was a cool Friday evening in school when the bible study leader, Tiwalade, came over to have a study time with me. My roommates were all out, so we sat right at the room’s entrance with the doors wide open. The sun was gradually setting, and we were deep into God’s holy word; the Holy Spirit was right in our midst. Suddenly, the clouds changed, and it started raining heavily without forewarnings. The rain came with a rush of wind we both had to enter the room and shut the door. The sun betrayed me big time! The room became so dark and the air was cold as well. The doors were shut but our bodies needed warmth. How it happened I still can’t explain. But we found each other cuddling. We soon forgot about God’s word. I think I made her fall; because I started rubbing her neck and before I knew it, her boobs were hanging right about my face. I couldn’t see her body, but my body mastered her body in no time. I dived into her slowly. She gave the sweetest moans; I went even harder and deeper. Her body felt like paradise. She was fearfully and wonderfully made. How she called my name sounded like pure music.
It stopped raining some minutes to 9:30pm; by this time, the righteous had already fallen. It was until the next morning that I noticed Tiwalade left her bible behind. I took my phone, opened my WhatsApp to message her about last night and at least return her King James versioned bible. What I saw on people’s statuses got me melting down in tears. “Rip Tiwalade” filled everyone’s status. It soon felt like rapture on a Saturday.
I felt as cold as ice. Nigeria suddenly felt like Iceland. Oh, how the sun let me down; oh, how God watched all these happen. I still feel guilty of murder; I still pray, and hope God forgives her gentle soul. Beautiful notes went out in tributes to her; “A lady after God’s own heart”, “A lady who served God with great savor”. So many people were so sure she would be in heaven; sitting in glory with a shining crown by God’s side. She died that same night; while I slept smiling like a fool lost in hell. She got knocked down by a drunk driver on her way to her hostel and that was the end of her. But as everyone said beautiful things about her; while members of the fellowship consoled themselves saying “She’s with God in glory”, I could only mutter within me “God please forgive her, accept her soul”. Only if they knew how she lived her last; only if they knew she fell at the tail end, only if they knew that I made her fall maybe then, they’d cry harder for her and beg the heavens on her behalf.
Tears at her funeral, words at her funeral; I might just melt into the ground. Angry at all the things I caused and can’t change. I never really knew her, but she died while trying to draw me closer to heaven. She died while she fell for a monster like me. Why do I feel she took my place at death?. Why do I feel I should be dead in her stead? Why do I feel like heaven will never forgive me? Why do I feel she would still come back for me? I just hope she said her last prayers before she died. I hope heaven forgives her. But the soul she tried to save now wanders away, closer to hell.
Blessed trinity, for how we fall and rise again. We fall again and rise again; we repeat the same again. But sometimes, we fall so hard we lose the strength to rise again. We just stay there hoping for a good Samaritan to help us up. And sometimes, it’s no human and some other time, it’s God. Sometimes, it’s the sun and some other time legions of wishes running through the dark. But while we hope again, we faint again. While we try to smile, it’s the pain we feel. We could have been out in the Lion’s den but for God the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit who reside in the heavens. But the Holy Trinity seems to lose their grip on me.
We sin better than the devil himself; yet we go before the altar asking from the Father like we still have the right to be called sons. It’s how we live now; that’s how the church is now. We all are an array of sinners raising up cursed hands and voices up to heaven. But He sits patiently in heaven full of pity for the souls He created.

I don’t think I’d ever get over Tiwalade. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself. Flashing memories of the night with her comes occasionally. You won’t understand how hard living with guilt as heavy as lead is. It’s been a little over three years now; I still pray for her; I still ask her to forgive me. You won’t understand how sweet the thought of suicide is until your world starts looking dark and empty. But in all they say suicide is a sin to God but where was he when life turned me to a ping-pong game; tossing me to and fro like the devil’s scrotum. For even as I live, I die. For the sun turned its smile against me; for now, even when I smile, it’s all regret that fills my soul.
But my wishes are blessed and lovely, but none will ever count if it doesn’t please The Father. It gets worse each day. I lose faith each day. Dreams upon dreams, hope upon hope, strives upon strives, prayers upon prayers but we still must pray so we don’t pray amidst. It’s hard to be human. For God already knows the end right from the beginning. But it’s hard to walk in God’s plan, it’s hard to discern between what looks beautiful and what really is beautiful. No matter how hard we strive, if it’s not God’s will, my pastor says it won’t ever come to pass. He says hope only lives for believers and those who will walk in God’s true path. But I wonder how evil now seems like the only route to success; how the righteous now watch the so called “evildoers” succeed. But damn us!!! For how we carry religion on our heads like hawkers in the sun; we lose grip of who God really is all in the name of religion.
We all are just trying to live, trying to love and only trying to be. But, we have no control over our lives; what happens while we breathe and when it ends. We have no control over who and what we love; absolutely no control over who we are going to be. All of that is on God. Yeah, only God knows what happens next. Life happens to be some sort of manuscript we all are trying to sing from. The notes are not so regular; they are planned out and there’s absolutely nothing we can do about it. Everything feels like a scripted movie and we all act out our roles differently; sometimes, actors fall out and fall asleep. God Himself wrote the scripts. They say no matter who or what we try to be, if it’s not in God’s plan, we’ll only be like fools treading on the paths of darkness. The point is, I really don’t get to become what I really want to become if the King says otherwise.
After Tiwalade’s death, I vowed never to go carnal with any girl till my death. Every second kept feeling like the next to the judgement day. Even though she was gone; in truth she had the intent of changing my life for the better. Even though she fell trying to save me, she ended up turning my life into shatters. I had no one to talk to, even my roommates were barely humans to me. There were nights I would take a walk out for hours and sit at a corner near the school’s football pitch. It became my regular spot, I would be alone not thinking, not talking, not doing anything but just crying. Words from my heart would roll down my eyes down to my lips; I would taste them again and have my words back within me. Those words never really left me. Everything got too much for me to handle alone. People around me seemed not to care so much. I didn’t feel so much trust to tell anyone what was going on within me. But “why did God let that happen?”- Was a question that never left my mind for a second.
How it happened I would not know but I found myself moving with some guys; three of them- Peter, James and Victor. They were chronic smokers. You might be wondering why people named after Bible heroes fall so hard for Lucifer. That did not matter to me, I’m the son of a Reverend and I started smoking. I stopped caring about my looks and what people thought of me. I thought if I would not be able to let out my mind in words, I could make them evaporate in smoke at least for little moments. Don’t be too swift to judge those who smoke. Don’t be like the others who call us chronic sinners and chant “smokers are liable to die young”; we all are sinners anyways and we are eventually going to die. This phase of my life ruined me forever. Everyone who tries to help ends up getting hurt.
A girl in my department tried to look out for me. She kind of showed concern for me. I initially paid no attention to her but Pelumi inquired about me. Where she got my number from I’ll never know. I remember the first time she called me, she asked if I was fine and undisturbed. She said she noticed I’ve been looking like someone who needs help, she told me she was willing to help if I let her. But really, I felt there was no point. She would never understand. I’ll always be this small guy no one gives a damn about. At first, she felt like disturbance to me but with time, she became a little close to me. We started getting along well, we started sitting together in class and doing some things together. Soon, the whole world thought we were dating. Rumors started flying around saying Pelumi was hooked to a stoner. She lost friends because of me. Her friends were so disappointed she chose to be close to someone like me. I felt like sin to the world but for her friends I was still better in looks than their boyfriends. She didn’t mind that I smoked, she never for once judge me for smoking. But she kept on asking for reasons why I smoked; reasons I covered up with a tickle each time she asked. I covered up a deep pit full of guilt with silent sighs and laughs. She said she wanted to make me stop smoking and help resuscitate my dying grades. Pelumi was a bright kid. She tried taking the sticks off my fingers. She tried blowing off the lights from the rizla. She was not a church girl; no, she was no saint either. She hated smoking and really wanted me to stop. But I guess I could not. She succeeded in making me drop the sticks, but it was only for one night. But I guess she shouldn’t have for that was the last of her. We were mostly together but never been together at night prior to that day. She came to see me, so we took a stroll out that night. I took her to my lowly corner where I cry and stay blank. We talked about life, God, people and a whole lot of things. I found out she was just like me, we reasoned along in the same path. Our thinking was alike. I felt a connection which I know she felt too. In our words, we unraveled some secrets. She told me about how her parents both died in a car accident and I told her about my hearing issue too. But while she opened all to me I kept so much to myself. She held my hands, looked into my eyes and said; “Tobee, we’ll be fine, I promise” just then I thought about how quickly the night falls; I thought about promises and how the tongue fails. It was something different that night. One thing led to another and our lips were soon locked to each other’s. Things escalated so fast that we had sex right at the corner; her hands up against the wall, I drilled into her from behind. Oh Lord, she was deep, I had to dive in harder till I reached her depth. For a moment, it felt like love than lust that I forgot about my vow never to go carnal with any girl till death.
It was a good night that night, we kissed so well, and her lips tasted like some parts of heaven above. I walked her back to her hostel laughing and cuddling like lost saints. I hugged her tight, kissed her on her forehead and said; “goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow”. I got back to my room and thought about everything and how easy it was for me to break my vow, but I didn’t regret it and I really hoped to see her the next day.
Tomorrow came. I had a class by 8am, a class Pelumi was to attend too. First time in a long time I got to class few minutes before the actual time for the class only to hear that the class had been cancelled. A student just died was the news going around. As I was still hurt for coming to class so early, I picked my phone to call Pelumi to know if she was coming around; it was then that one of her friends came to me in tears saying “Pelumi just passed away this morning”
The ground beneath my feet shook. My phone fell off my hands as I went down to the ground in tears. Everything immediately felt like emptiness. I felt like death in human flesh. I felt the same way the devil felt when he was thrown out of heaven. So now, close to hell I feel, farther from love I get as time flies.
How I stay alive is all on God. I struggle with nightmares and suicidal thoughts on a regular basis but there is no one to talk to. No one to carry a bit of my burdens; even though I’ll never feel comfortable being a burden to someone else. On several occasions have I considered murder against myself, but something keeps holding me back. My parents are only concerned with my grades and the church of God back home. I keep everything to myself. But I gradually became strong, too strong to believe in lies and promises, even too strong to want to listen to the truth. I can feel my heart getting worse. The hole is probably so deep and wide now but that won’t take smoking away from me. Yes, I know it’s detrimental to my health, but I need to be free; I need my mind to be clear even if it doesn’t last for so long. I’ve grown so chronic as a smoker. Smoking now feels as important as oxygen to me.
I’ve gradually became something everyone tries to stay away from. Even the church could not help. At first, I never stopped going to church even though I knew I was next in line for the devil’s crown. But in all, all I have to say is damn the church!!! I hate Sundays, fork the church!!! The people of the church only preach things they will never practice. I hate the church. Don’t get me wrong, my hatred for the church does not mean I hate God, or I don’t believe in God;

I believe so much in God, I love God, but I guess I just find it hard to live His will; for even the preachers and teachers of the Lord find it difficult to do His will.
My home church ended up putting me all out to the world. Somehow, in mysterious ways I will never know, the news got to members of my home church that I’ve become an addict smoker. The son of the church’s pastor; a Baptist reverend is breeding a smoker was certainly how they felt about it. They showed me everything else but love. First, they suspended my father indefinitely just because his son smokes. I faced and still face so much persecution for smoking. I ruined my father’s ministry; I know my parents will never forgive me, but I will be forever sorry my actions cost my father his ministry. But there are so many things the church isn’t doing right. For a reason or the other, I did not stop attending my home church despite my father’s suspension. The so-called holy church of God made me feel like the devil himself. I soon became a loner in God’s own house that I started wondering if I was growing horns on my head. I heard rumors of things I wasn’t. I was accused of trying to woo all the young ladies in the church. Several meetings were held because of me, parents asked their children to stay away from me. I used to be close to a girl in church, but I felt rage within me when she told me that we should stop talking in church all because her father didn’t want to see us doing anything together in church anymore. Her father was the president of the Men Missionary Union (M.M.U), who always spoke about showing love and caring for one another as God’s disciples. He started to look like the devil to me.
No one came to speak words of love to me. Those who spoke to me only ended up preaching against me, pilling up blames and reminding me how real hell is. No one sat me down to ask what load I carry so heavily in my heart. No one sought to ask how I have been coping without a hand of help. All they did was paint me as evil and stay away from me. Maybe it is alright to say God really cannot be found in the church no more; the church feels more like a ritual being performed. Damn the church!!! Fork the church!!! For God truly reside in individual hearts and minds only; He resides in me, so does He in you. I know I’m the least to be called righteous, yes I know I’m deep into sin but I know God loves me so much but after all these so called followers of Christ did to me and my dad, I made up my mind never to set my feet into the premises of a church again. Damn the church!!! Fork the people of the church; they should never be a yardstick to measure your stand with God. They are all fools who fool themselves and think that they fool God the King of glory. Again, I say damn the church!!! Fork the people of the church!!!
Dreams have come and gone. Hopes have lived and died. Fantasies of a beautiful castle have faded. It feels like everyone now stands against me. It feels like heaven is not on my side. It doesn’t feel like the host of heaven will ever be on my side; no, not anytime soon. I used to be strong but now my strength is all gone. I had friends who always had my back; friends who encouraged me, friends who promised to stay till forever but watching them leave one after the other still hurts and will forever hurt till the day I take my life.
I’ve tried loving. It was so real I could literary see the butterflies flying in my stomach. She was just like the sunflower. Her lips felt like the succulent touch of love itself. She meant the whole world to me. She was probably the only human who has shown me the greatest and purest form of love yet. She hated my parents for the way they treated me. She would caress my chest, play with my nipples, and say so softly “Baby, you will be fine, I promise”. But then we’re only humans bound to fail in every promise we make. She always prayed for me. I could see passion in her eyes: I could feel care in her lips; I could feel fear right underneath her skin; the fear of ever having to lose me. We always vibe to Jon Bellion’s songs each time we were together. He was our favorite. Her favorite song of him was “Simple and sweet”. We would kiss and move to every string from Jon’s songs. She was my muse, my happiness, my joy, my strength. I loved her with the whole of everything in me and I never felt stupid for that. Maybe I’d be a lot better if she was still here. No, she didn’t bring with her peace, for she was pure Bliss in herself. She would talk about us finally ending up together. After all the struggles, we would start our life together, and build a castle together. But I guess love was not made for a lost soul like mine. I think love will never stop escaping from me.
You might be wondering why I waited this long to write about her. No reason to be precise, but she deserves a lot more than I gave her. She was the first girl I met as a new student in this University. I met her on my first night in school after I went to buy a late-night snack. She also came to get something, shawarma to be precise; it was her favorite. Her purse dropped without her noticing. I saw it drop, picked it and followed her; she was such a fast walker. I returned her purse but even though it was dark, I kept her face in my head. Our paths crossed again and lo! we started getting along well. No, she was not a trouble-free person, she was not perfect neither was she complete, but she was beautiful and had a good heart. She had the right keys to unlocking my heart. Her parents were well to do, and she was the only child. It would be right to say she was lavishly in love with me. We got so intimate and became so fond of each other. After a while, I asked her to be mine and yes! she became mine. She was so proud of me that even in my low state, she was there to help me up. She was the reason I kept hoping. She became a reason I lived for; a reason I hoped to wake up again the next morning. Soon, we both became the strength and weakness of each other. I knew her friends but only from a distance. We kept ‘us’ to ourselves. She was shy but not as shy as the clouds. She had no choice but to love watching Manchester United play. Lingard was her favorite. She always said she loved Lingard because I look like him. In her eyes, Lingard was my look alike “but he’s taller than you are baby”, she always ended up making fun of me. She was everything I ever want in a lady, but life took her away from me or let me just say I took her away from life.
Her parents travelled for two days; they were to return on the third day. She had to stay at home and feed the dogs and rabbits. Her parents’ house was not so far from School. They had two huge boerboel, she named them Jon and Bellion. The male was Jon while the female was Bellion. Yeah, she was that obsessed with Jon Bellion. She invited me over to keep her company while her parents were away. She told no one I was going with her. I went with her for there’s no better moment than being alone with the love of your life. We gisted, played and kissed so hard. We also had enough time for long make out sessions. Oh Lord, her body was like fresh bread, out directly from the bakery. Her boobs were so round and firm; the kind of ones that makes me go crazy.
How we went to school and came back home together felt so cool; like we were married already. On the second night, which was the last I was staying for, we were only kissing when she suddenly dared me to have sex with her. It was not so difficult for her to persuade me even though we had the major problem of being virgins. Our amateur selves found it a little difficult at first but as the sharp guy that I am, it did not take long before I dived in. We first had it in missionary style; I plunged into her slowly and carefully, her moans were so sweet and pitiful too. She tingled my soul. After I broke her hymen, we both went to the bathroom to clean up and there we ended up making love like dogs. We were under the shower; I was behind her drilling in all her ways. Everywhere was slippery; I got carried away and wanted to go a bit faster when we slipped, she hit her head so hard against the bathtub. She did not bleed, and it didn’t stop us from continuing.
After we were done, she complained of headache throughout the night and all I could do was kiss her forehead head saying “sorry”. Morning came and I had to leave early for school her parents could be back anytime, but she had to let her parents meet her at home before she left for school. As early as 7am, I kissed her and said, “goodbye love, I will see you soon”. Little did I know that was the last time I was going to see her. At school, I called her severally, but she did not answer her calls. I became worried but I kept calling till around 12pm when her dad answered the phone and said, “Michelle is dead”. I could not believe my ears; I could not believe it was real. She was truly gone. I shed loads of tears; I could not imagine life without her. I preferred to be dead in her stead. I felt and still feel guilty of murder. Autopsy later revealed that she had an internal injury in her head which led to her death. Her parents met her lifeless at home, it was too late for them to take her to the hospital. I knew I was the murderer but there was no way I could have spoken. I was so scared and lost that I kept it all to myself.
Before you judge me, put yourself in my shoes and tell me if you would have done otherwise.

Holy, holy, holy; blessed trinity for how we fall, struggle and grace pick us up again. Blessed trinity for how we fall, rise and fall again. Holy, holy, holy; blessed trinity of sin, guilt and death. All thanks to The Giver of life; The author of love, The One who made us so beautiful in imperfection. Tribute to life for the things I will never understand till it ends. Shout out to the sun for it scares away darkness for a while but even in its rays, dwells evil. Peace to my wishes, my thoughts, my lusts, my cravings, my hope for they closer to death they bring me.
Things, they say, happen for a reason. Some reasons we will never know. But I struggle against all odds. It’s just funny how our lives don’t get defined by us; by we ourselves who carry the breath in us. For pressure flies all around; too much pressure from the world around, the land is enough to end life in agony. So much pressure from parents who think they have the right to make their children who they want them to be; forcing their wills and decisions on us right from birth and never want to grant us our freedom even after they are long gone. They kill me the most, stabbing me with words sharper than the two-edged sword. They never for once tried to understand me for how, what, and who I really want to be. They suffocate me just so they protect their ministry. Closer to my grave I feel each time they compare me to other kids out there. Their words never brought life to me, it never will. I was always never enough to them. I have been dying since my birth; imagine dying for over 21 years and I’m still not dead yet.
Tribute to my heart; it is the bravest part of me. It beats like it is going to stop its beats soon, it feels like it will say goodbye soon. But it’s all love from me to my heart, for it stood by me all these years. It never gave up on me. It kept beating in different rhythms, it kept fighting against death. And even if it is not ready to stop its beats, I will make it stop; for it needs to rest. It needs freedom from all pains and sorrows, it needs to be at peace.
Grace and hope to my sister, for every time I think of my life, I feel lost for her. Life doesn’t seem fair enough to her. She deserves more than what she has gotten from life but all they say is “God allowed it for a reason”. They keep giving reasons to see reason we will never really see. If only God can do me one favor and make her whole, make her speak and help her reasoning function well, then I will be ever grateful even if I burn in hell. Ill love her in my grave, I will keep watch over her while I sleep.
Peace to my sister, my twin, the one who left even before a week. Why did you do that to me? Why did you evil leave me? Why did you ever think of leaving your twin brother here behind? I still miss you; I still feel you around me. I’m coming home soon; I’m coming to join you soon. I will come with full ‘gist’ about life and how it defeated your brother. Keep a special place for me, you’re about to have a new friend sister. I will hug you till I shed away memories of life from my eyes; well, that’s if people cry over there too.
To hell with the church. To hell with the people who call themselves a part of God’s own body. To hell with those who preach love as the greatest command but never live in practice of what they preach. To hell with the church, for hell awaits the church. Damn the church, damn us; lost sheep who play the innocent game so well. Holy people? Damn your holy! Damn the church, damn the reasons for which we go to church. Chronic sinners!!! Fork the church; fork us for we are sinners who lift holy hands up to heaven. Soothsayers!!! OH, kill the church, kill us all for how we judge even before the rain comes. Pretty petty liars!!! Burn the church. Burn us all for the truths we have turned into lies; burn us for the sanity we have thrown away all in the name of religion. I hate the church; I hate the people of the church for we live in pretense and deceit thinking that we fool The King. Damn me, damn you; instead of us living and dying in pretense, let’s just make friends with the devil; maybe hell is not as bad as we think. Let’s make friends with the devil; no, we will be without horns, let’s stop our eye service and make friends fully with the devil, maybe we can be like angels and fall from the skies. Even the scriptures preach love for our enemies; so why shall we not love the devil? Why should we not make friends with the devil so we will be free from all hypocrisy. Let’s see if we can talk the devil to turning from evil. Let’s make friends with lucifer so we will feel no guilt at all when we sin; let’s make friends with the devil, we will find another name for “evil”. Let’s just make friends with the devil already, for it feels like we are way worse than the devil himself. The church threw me off; I hate everyone called the church; I will never forgive them.
I hail friends who promised to stand by me at all times but left even before noon came. I still love you all and remain hurt that you left for whatever reasons you left for. I wish you the best in all you do; my heart will never forget you. You only remind me of promises and how the tongue fails.
I speak rage to everyone who ever shamed me for who I am. Those who ever mocked me for my stature and how sick I look. Those who laugh so hard but never know how hard I have been trying to live; how long I have been trying to stay strong for. Thanks for letting me doubt myself in my corner. Thank you so much for making me feel bad for who I am. But just to let you know that I did not create me, I did not give myself the body that I inhabit. I will never blame you for all you did but I will never ever forgive you all, not even in my grave. And if it is true that ghosts have the power to haunt people, I will come back for all of you, I promise.
But to others reading this, never be the reason people get to feel bad about themselves. Never be a wet blanket to anyone. Speak love and show love in all you do; you will never know who you are saving. Not everyone has a strong heart for the death you speak and laugh about.
I seek forgiveness from every girl I ever laid with; from every one of them who now rests in their graves, I hope they all are truly resting…, in peace. Tiwalade, I’m deeply sorry for making you fall, I hope I get my punishment when I die. But what could I have done?
Dear Pelumi, I hope you are still beautiful in heart where you are. I hope your heart has not gone cruel towards me. I hope your body speaks forgiveness to a saint as worse as me. Thanks for the care you gave, the time we shared together, the talks we had, the sex we had in sweet memories and all the rest. Yes, I know I deserve nothing but anguish and pain. I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. I know I am the worse human ever, but I guess it is something I will never be able to change.
To the love of my life, who now lay low in her grave; you are gone all because of me. You came into my life and changed it, you leaving in such manner has also changed it; my life is now miserable. I’m sorry I could not speak out; it was too much for me to handle. But I still go to your graveside and I promise to die at your graveside. You still mean a lot to me; I appreciate you and I love you even in your death but please forgive me. My life with end soon, I will join you soon and maybe we’ll talk forgiveness when I get there. I hope people fall in love in heaven and hell; for you will still be the love of my life in death. I hope to see you again my dear Michelle.
So, here today I write in loneliness about my loneliness. Today, the 18th day of the seventh month; I write because soon, everything will be over. I write because it is the only way I can pour out this heaviness in my heart; the only way I feel like a being. I’m tired of this emptiness, this load of guilt which lingers daily in my heart. I’m giving up only because I know that I have tried enough. I was strong for too long and the sun let me down. No, do not blame or judge me; or you can for all I care for it is not an act of cowardice to come face to face with death or to let death take me through my own hands; believe me, it’s bravery.
But to all of you who will still be living or just breathing, I hope you never get tired of life, I hope your strength will never fail you just like mine has. To the weary, there is hope. Even if everything goes so wrong and you can no longer move, do not take your life, do not be like me; I’m not the savior. But remember during the storm, in the midst of life, in the midst of the people of the world, under the rays of the sun and around your wishes is where you live. Do not stress anything, do not live for the praise of people. Trust no one, for these people do not mean love when they blow you kisses, they do not mean peace when they send a dove. Do not be deceived, for these people do not mean soda when they are offering you coke; it is a jungle out there. Remember I wrote this, stay strong. If you are lucky enough for love to find you, please love well; it is the only thing that makes life so beautiful. And when it gets so tough and you get so confused of what to do or where to go, just relax for it is only a world full of things you will never be able to change. Call on God always, for He alone is sure. Love God but hate the church; for their ways will take you closer to hell. Live beautifully hoping for the best, never try too hard and never ever feel bad about who you really are. Never let anyone make you feel worse of yourself.
So, from me, it is a goodbye to life and everything it gave. Rage to those who laughed at me for who I am, I hope they will be so happy when they find out that I am gone. Not much words to my parents, they hurt me so much, but I love them; I forgive them. Please, take good care of my sister; I will watch over her from the skies too. Keep this little ring on the middle finger of my left hand; it is the only thing of Michelle that is left with me. On to hell I commit my soul, accept me O lucifer; for I know that it is of hell that I take my own life, but it is for the peace that transcends life.
So, tomorrow is my birthday, it is going to be my death day too luckily for me. I’ll die at Michelle’s graveside; my body will lay right beside her graveside for she brought me hope when she was here. Surely, no one will cry for me; my life will soon be one hell of a miserable life no one will ever wish for. But all thanks to The Giver of life even though He left me with so much questions left unanswered. But in all, I’m ready to be free from all forms of pain and guilt. By this time tomorrow, I will be long gone and forgotten, so those people can now talk and laugh the hardest about how weak I was when I was alive. I will soon be a thing of the past. So, I surrender my life to God the Father, the sun and my wishes. Damn the life that brought me onto death!

The end.

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  1. This is the most emotional piece I’ve read my whole life… Bro, you’re too good

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