This life…

One of the drama series from the stable of legendary Wale Adenuga is aptly entitled, ‘This Life’.

And, yes, this life! Wale Adenuga started off small. I remember in my secondary school days, his Ikebe Super, Papa Ajasco and Dauda gave us youngsters much to talk and laugh about.

Adenuga kept graduating his game and, today, he has become a colossus, bestriding the business of entertainment. In fact, it is no more a laughing matter but a serious business with even a group of schools, including a polytechnic where theatre practitioners go to hone their skills.

Pencil in God’s hands, that’s how he describes himself. Yes, pencils in God’s hand; that’s what we all are! However, are you a blunt or sharp pencil? In whose hands are you and what are you writing?

I remember again how my late uncle, Dee Cyril, taught me in my grandmother’s sooty kitchen, holding my hand with charcoal, as I wrote. Later I mastered the art of writing and have never stopped writing. In fact, writing is my life and I can’t imagine any other trade for me besides writing.

Indeed, everyone writes something, even if not professionally. You don’t really need ink and paper to write. You write with your conduct and speech, and like we submit our scripts to the examiner after writing an examination, a day shall come when we submit ourselves to the Chief Examiner, God Almighty, to vet and reward us accordingly.

Let me note here that I had fumbled so many times. I had done many forbidden things. I had said things I should never have said and gone on unapproved trips in flagrant disobedience to Him who gave me life. I kneel before Him in repentance and contriteness, pleading for mercy and forgiveness. I do so now because He could call for my scripts anytime, as He could also call for yours. When the Chief Examiner shouts ‘time up’ and calls for our scripts, what would be the likely content. Wasted blood of the innocent? Humongous wealth engendered from sleaze and slime? Putrid odour of fetuses cooked in abortion theatres or what? Dripping blood of the innocent bludgeoned on the slabs of ritualism and occultism?

In this Exam Hall we call the world; we are all in the same class. There is neither senior nor junior. There is no president or slave, rich or destitute.

The old die; the young also. Even infants die on the birthing table. It is God, who sets the time and only He knows the right time for each student.

I don’t know when He shall call for my own scripts and I’m sure you don’t know yours either. However, wisdom demands that you and I prepare for that inescapable eventuality by doing the needful. Take note too that in God’s court, there is no Nigerian angel or man of power to bend justice as is customary in our clime. Before God, justice is naked, fierce and just; you reap what you had sown.

Sowing is like writing. Some write jagajaga like I did when I first started while others write legibly even though we’re equally taught. In sowing, we choose our crops; nobody imposes cassava on you when your interest is cocoyam. However, having planted cocoyam, how do you think you could reap cassava instead?

This life; yes, this life!

Life is an irony; nobody but God can fathom it. He gave it to us as a trust but we are inclined to shutting him out of His creation. How possible can that be?

“Woe to him who strives with his Maker! Let the potsherd strive with the potsherds of the earth! Shall the clay say to him who forms it, ‘What are you making?’ Or shall your handiwork say, ‘He has no hands’? Isaiah 45:9

However, God chose to allow us run the life He gave as we please, but not without instruction. The bible   tells us in Joshua 24:15: “Choose you this day whom ye will serve; but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”

Joshua made his own choice. So, what is your choice? Carousing and a debauched lifestyle? A witch doctor in cassock, luring people to hell? Two-faced, not necessarily singing African Queen but covering the truth, because anywhere belle face brings you gain?

You are a raging heathen. God will laugh and hold you in derision (Psalm 2:4). He promises to laugh at you on the day of your calamity that is around the corner (Proverbs 1:26).

Ask the rich man that despised poor Lazarus (Luke 16). Ask the rich young fool that had no time for God but his wealth (Luke 12:16-20).

Or better still ask the wiser Nicodemus, who stole to Jesus at night, hungry for the Word of life. Being a top shot in society, he didn’t want fellow big men to mock him. Is that why you are running away from God? Your varnished, vanishing title; your wealth, your social status…? All these shall fail you on the day your script is called and you become shawarma for worms.

It doesn’t matter if you do like Nicodemus; thank God he did, even if it was nighttime. You can go secretly; get the Truth and then proclaim it openly; it will save your life. The church is not a place for saints but a place of sinners, becoming saints. Nobody comes to church as a saint. So, don’t be inhibited by your sins. Zacchaeus was a fraudulent taxman; Paul too was once a murderer and persecutor of the church. Mary Magdalene was demon-possessed and purportedly a prostitute but all that changed when the blood of Jesus cleansed them of their filth. Jesus is asking if you would like to be made whole from your leprous lifestyle. Would you?

This write-up offers you an eraser from God to wipe off the jagajaga you have been writing on your script; you can begin afresh. Jesus is present at your heart’s doorway, knocking. Please, open to Him and sup with Him. It is for your own good; He wants to hear you welcome Him so that He can accept and comfort you.

‘‘For he saith, I have heard thee in a time accepted, and in the day of salvation have I succoured thee: behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.’’ 2 Corinthians 6:2.

So, do it NOW; before your script is called. The Chief Examiner approaches fast and vengeful; don’t delay for even another second. When this life ends and you wake up on the other side, what life awaits you there? It is yours to choose; wish you chose wisely.