A Week After My Funeral

I was still in an awe when I was jolted back into reality and the time now was 5:47 PM and two nurses came to move my body to the morgue. I walked out from the Hospital this time not through the doors but through the walls. I spent my time on the streets watching as people went about their daily business

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After several attempts to resuscitate  my dying body the doctors for the eighth time charged me up using the defibrillators and reluctantly gave up, I watched from where I stood as the Head of the medical team took off his hand gloves and announced my time of death “5:56 PM”  he said with his face looking more lugubrious than ever, cause of death Cardiac arrest but he was wrong I died sixteen minutes ago as I recall seeing myself outside my body  at “5:40 PM” and yes my  Vacheron Constatin Tour de I’lle wrist watch still told the time even in the afterlife.

I never really read the bible but at that moment the Ecclesiastes of it all came to me “Vanity upon vanity all is vanity”, I was just in my late twenties and I had a such  taste for the luxurious life something my fragile head was ready to defend when I see my maker, I had shoes worth over millions in Naira, I drank  expensive wine, had sex with beautiful ladies of different race, drove flamboyant cars , partied on the Streets of Monaco, sat with Kings and dined with queens. My life was a fairy tale too good to be true I was just at the Exodus of my life when the next verse was “The grace of the Lord Jesus be you with all Amen” Revelations 22:21. Wasn’t His grace sufficient for me ?

I had no family of my own, I had no kids  all I had was money and I did love her.The love for money made me live a less deserving life maybe because I was from a poor family and worst an only child  raised by a single parent, neglected by family. I lost my mom to malaria and that gave my life a new direction, for it wasn’t malaria that killed her but lack of funds to provide proper health care; with tears on my face and my knees on the muddy floor of our thatched mud house I decided I was going to make this money.The only family I had died right in my arms she had no last words she died in pain and I watched her, for there was nothing I could do.  Was I wrong to make  this money ?

 I was scared, I was scared of everything I once overlooked, I was scared of hell I was scared of pain I was scared of been judge, did I mention I saw no white light, no golden gate, no man with wings, I saw nothing I was alone in the upside down, I was alone in life and still alone in the afterlife. I had my life flashed before my own eyes, if it were to be a movie I won’t pay to watch it, every thing was wrong the cast, the plot, the lighting, the sound down to the cinematography nothing made sense but the end credits. “To God be the Glory”. If my life was a parable was I a sheep or was I a goat ?

Moments  I din’t really consider as part of my life turned out to be the most beautiful, I remember a lot of things; the first time I  saw a caterpillar turn into a butterfly, mummy showed me that at Mr Agho’s farm, that feeling you experience when a mosquito pierce’s  your delicate skin, my mom giving me a proper bath in the Nigerian way with my two hands on the bucket one leg on the floor and the other on the air, the early days of my life, where the best meal were the  partially burnt part  popularly called “under pot”, I remember my first kiss with Adesuwa under the Mango tree, I remember Mama bole she had the best roasted plantain in the village I remember eating rice with joy every Sunday, I remember stories under the moonlight. I remembered everything all in a flash.

I was still in an awe when I was jolted back into reality and the time now was 5:47 PM and two nurses came to move my body to the morgue. I walked out from the Hospital this time not through the doors but through the walls. I spent my time on the streets watching as people went about their daily business, some walked right through me others had a feeling that someone was watching them but they couldn’t put their finger on it. The time now was 11:34 PM in the streets of Benin when a man stopped and asked me “what are the numbers” and I said “numbers for what” and he said “Baba Ijebu” he could see me and interact with me because he was mad and then i realize the truth  that the afterlife was an open vault for all knowledge passed and a pinhole view for what to come. I gave him the numbers with Joy, never have I felt so good conversing with a man nevertheless a mad man. The afterlife was a cold place different from living, here you know all already, I had answers to all my questions both in life and in death, for example I knew what 9/11 was really about, I knew Our former President was never buried in the country, I knew where God came from the answers are all here in the afterlife in your time you too will know.

Fast forwarding back a little, today makes it one week after my funeral and everything’s  is different, I finally can see the white light In all its glory, I see the golden gate, I also see the man with wings I see everything. I feel warm I see a man, I hear a voice saying time of birth 5:41 pm, I see a woman weak but yet joyful I see the doctor delighted and I see myself I’m different I hear a man saying we name her Charvin I see everything but I know nothing. I see I am alive.

Responses

  1. BlackPearl
    It could have been so much better without all the distractions that could have been eliminated with proper editing by the TNC team.
    So… reincarnation ehn? Nicely done. I saw the stranger things insert by the way… 😉
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