“O my God!! I will be thirty-three tomorrow.” He blurted out
as if he suddenly realized it. He had decided to stay indoors the whole day.
It’s 3:05pm and his thoughts were
beginning to take the better of him. He eyes were heavy and his head ached on
the left side. He had no regard for food though the hunger pangs kept
announcing with audible sounds. His mouth wouldn’t dare betray his frame of
mind. His silenced phone had been beeping consistently since 11am calling his attention. He had no desire to
speak to man, no not today, he would rather petition heaven.
Max Olootu was tall, dark and handsome. Many attributed his
beauty to the harmony between his flawless white teeth and his dark face. His
teeth had an even spread and all seemed to be of same size and width. It was a
rare kind. People loved it. He kept a rich full beard will curls all the way to
his chin. He was the kind of guy ladies considered to be a good ‘husband
material’ when judging by looks. He had had it good with them. Ladies seemed to
see him as a confidant; many times he had helped a number with issues on their
cycle and two had asked his counsel on whether or not to abort an illegitimate
child. His friends called him “the counsellor”.
He looked around the scarcely furnished room scanning his mind for what
he had achieved during the year. “My God it’s another wasted year! It’s another
year of empty hopes!” He swung his head back making it to give a cracking
sound. He barely felt the resultant pain and instantly he buried his face in
the hand towel he had been using to wipe his running noise. When he raised his
head he had traces of tears in his eyes.
He was born on the same day one of the country’s National
Zoos was officially opened, January 1,
1975. His Uncle Ben always reminded him of how he ate and drank to
stupor on his christening day plus he was one of the dignitaries at the opening
of the zoo. Uncle Ben
had promised to link him with some of his friends if he did well in studies.
But that promise was never fulfilled. Things went wrong.
“What kind of life is this?” Max asked out loud.
He got up from the edge of the bed where he sat. Everyone
who had promised to help him had made empty promises. They left him with
nothing more than mere hope that all would be well. He felt alone in the world.
And time was running out. He felt he had passed the age he marked for major
feats he hoped to achieve in life.
His birth was the kind that everyone would consider lucky. Coincidentally,
the Governor had earmarked the day of his birth to visit the State maternity
centre to inspect the new facilities that were largely publicised would reduce
the mortality rate during child birth. He was one of the children the Governor
granted life academic scholarship to study in any school within the country.
This he enjoyed for 11 years until the government at the time limited the
scholarship to State owned schools within the state claiming an improvement in
their standard. To him that was the beginning of the downturn in his life. He
was re-enrolled in a Model college, a truly state of the art school with
standard buildings, teaching resources and renowned teachers. It was there he
made friends with Isa Blackson, Benson Ibom and Emeka Brookes. These boys would
teach him things he never imagined, they ruined his academic life but for the
intervention of Rev. Badejoko the Chapel priest. Of the four he was the only
who escaped expulsion.
The Reverend tutored him for Six years, spanning till after
his college days, during that period he gained admission into the higher
institution. Then the Reverend was transferred out of the country. They kept in
touch for a while finally both got ‘too busy’ to keep in touch. Life in the
university was bliss, he had good grades, he was famous – the ladies loved him
and some guys paid him to woo them in their favour. It was a time to cherish
until he contested for the office of the social director. He was visited by
“the owners” as they were called. These men weren’t just cultists but were the
“rulers” on campus. Their word was law. They made demands he couldn’t meet and
he made the wise decision to withdraw his candidacy. Albeit it was a little too
late; the rest of his days on campus were those of unwilling service to them.
Finally, the clearance list for the graduating students was out. He matched
with great joy to the records department to confirm as other students did that
there were no errors on their files. He was shocked to discover that his name
was not on the list. It took three years to recover his files which had disappeared
without logical explanation. His guess was “the owners”.
During those three years he smoked, drank and partied with
reckless abandon. His mother called him a wreck but he cared-less. He was
detained severally by the police and his file was in the active section of the
police records. Then he met Christ for the umpteenth time; he got saved, become
a regular in church and even joined the choir.
As he thought on the progress of his life, he sighed “I am
saved” he paused to look at his palms “But saved from what?”
“Lord my life is still in shambles. True in church I laugh,
I sing and feel elated but out of church I am a mess. There is nothing good to
say about my life.”
“Those who are jobless make better money than me and I am
yet unmarried. I don’t have a life!”
He picked the key to the room he had been living for three
years now and headed for the door. The pastorate had gotten the room for him
and another brother who had since gotten a decent job and married. At the time both men were the most committed
brethren in the church. They never missed a service, never came late and were
willing to do a little more than everyone else. The pastor in one of the
meetings in referring to them said “these men pertaining to zeal are blameless.”
The offer to use the church quarters’ spare room was made to them and they
obliged.
Max walked past the gate which had the church’s logo
engraved on it without acknowledging the greeting of the gateman. He did not
hear or see anything. He headed towards the highway. There was a heavy dialogue
within him. He needed answers from somewhere. “Lord things have not changed. I
have prayed, fasted and believed. What else? Lord what else?”
He could hear deep within him that he was justifying himself
before God. The voice he perceived asked him, “Are you more righteous than
God?”
Suddenly he began to speak out loud swinging his hands
widely, “I don’t care! I don’t care!”
“I’m fed up.”
He had gotten to the bus stop before the T-junction flowing
into the major highway. He sat on the metal bench and began to scratch his head
as though it had been invaded by lice. He had the urge to plunge himself unto
the busy road. He began chanting what no man could understand; he also could not
understand it. He knew if he continued in that manner there would be no
birthday to celebrate. He knew he was losing his mind.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
THE INVASION shows a
major weapon the enemy uses – discouragement. Many believers today fail to see
the wonders of God in their lives because they are blinded by their unfulfilled
wants. They focus wrongly on what the enemy pushes to them. It is time to throw
back the devil’s rubbish to him and accept the joy that the Lord paid dearly to
give us.
The concluding part of
Nehemiah 8:10 says “the joy of the LORD
is your strength.” What the devil wants is for you to be sorry and sulky
but don’t give in. The joy of the LORD is you strength. Focus on God and not on
man. Remember this: the things God gives us without our asking is a proof that He will give
us what we are asking.
I know someone reading
this may be in a terrible mess and there seems to be no way out, DON’T QUIT. To
win the battle against discouragement the cheapest weapon is praise. As tough
as the situation may be make it of no value, praise God. Praising God in tough
times will shame the devil and bring God directly into your situation. Stop complaining, Start praising.
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