Saturday, 15 April 2017

A SINGLE STORY BY EMMANUEL NOSIKE

A SINGLE STORY
Written by "EMMANUEL NOSIKE TOBECHUKWU"

         Many said I was born just like every other human, that I have a mum and Dad just like others. Yes, I do have parents. But to me, I like to believe that I was created for a particular purpose. I was born years back, at least I'm an adult now, I can stand in for myself. Many difficulties and suffering surrounded my birth. From inability of my Mother to get a proper anti-natal care, to her inability to be delivered of me in a proper and well equipped hospital. I was born in an unbearable and disgusting place. But, God saves his People. My mother and I came out alive.
        I grew up like every other human being through stages. I was breast fed, I  crawled, and walked holding the wall lest I fall. I had no friend as a child. My childhood was a true Definition of "boring". I loved to read and teach. It was inbuilt. The sight of teachers teaching in classes and churches pleased me but I could not attend school. We were Poor and could not afford the fees.Did I tell you that my Father is a Carpenter? Yes. He is a carpenter. So, as a child, I helped my father in his carpentry work while my mates went to school. This did not affect me. Though my family have no money, but we have love and that is all that matters to me. I was always spotted teaching people because like I said, I loved teaching. God blessed me with knowledge. What the Igbos call "uburu". We were Igbos.
        As days ran into weeks, weeks into months and months into years, I grew into a tall man. Though people say I'm handsome, some use the word "cute". I was obedient and very respectful to everyone and I was loved by all.
One day, I called my parents and told them that I was leaving home to some other place which I didn't know to find my purpose in life. My mother kept weeping just like every other loving mother will do and kept singing "nwa m ooo". My father was strong and happy. My parents blessed me.. I left.
As I moved into a new community, I met a lot of people. I taught. What exactly was I teaching? I was teaching the word of God. I called Him "Father". I wasn't a pastor or a priest, but it was God's gift. I have an inner spirit that speaks to me always. Everyone does, but the big question is "do u listen to yours?" I listen to my inner spirit whenever it speaks.
It didn't take long before I made friends. I made friends through my teaching or how people prefer calling it "preaching". These my friends listened to me, I prayed for them and they became born again. Afterwards, we went everywhere together.
In life, when you do good, some people still won't be happy, and when you do bad, they will still persecute you.
"The world is Insatiable".
 I was persecuted in many places I went to. The elders of the community, the so called pastors and teachers in the church who felt that I came to steal their shine. I ignored them all and continued doing the work of He who sent me, God.
       One faithful night, I was praying with my friends in the garden, Lo and Behold, some people with swords, pistol etc approached us. They seized me and took me away and my friends ran away.The day prior to that day, my inner spirit had already told me that such a thing was going to happen, so I was prepared. My friends and I ate supper together. They thought it was normal but No, I knew it was my "last meal" with them. I even washed a part of their body. It was so strange to them but, I knew what I was doing.
So, I was taken to the chief in council. Here, I was accused of doing all sorts of things, ranging from blasphemy to things I know nothing about. The accusations were terrible but I uttered no word. From there, I was taken to the Igwe of the Community. One thing about this Igwe is that, He knew that I was innocent, but was not courageous enough to set me free because the council threatened that they will impeach him. So, the Igwe gave his Verdict.
I was sentenced to death. "Death by hanging". What did I do? If I was to be hung just like that, it would have been far better. But No, No, they made me suffer so bitterly first. I was beaten, flogged, slapped, spat on, matched, and mocked. I shed tears so sorrowfully.
I am fair in complexion, so the flogging made me turn Red. I was treated like a local criminal. In my case, a local or foreign criminal was even better than me. I asked for water, and I was given urine to drink. My friends deserted me. One of them even denied knowing me. That hurt so bad.
My Mother heard what was been done to her son, so, she ran across. A child she carried in her stomach for nine months, and breast fed, was to be killed before her eyes. She wanted to die with me. But she was held. That was the most touching thing, I suffered in the very eyes of my mother. How wicked the world could be. I knew my end has come, and nothing, absolutely nothing could be done about it.
I was Hung. I died a painful death.
My mother cried out her eyeballs, she kept shouting "my son, nwa m oooo", my friends appeared from the blues, humans. The cried "teacher, teacher".
Many people called me different names, some called me Teacher, some, Obinna, and lots more. But, my real name was the one given to me by my parents at birth. They called me "Jesus".


©Emmanuel Nosike.
April, 2017.

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