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Monday 13 April 2015

THE COLOURFUL WORLD


I do not want to sound like a pastor for the fear of leading people to eat grass or dance worship songs naked redirecting all actions to the holy spirit.

What if I try to convince you that the voidlessness of the earth at its genesis is the proper description of the world. Do you consider arguing with me? Or wish to go garner points and come for a logical debate? Describe the colour of the environment which was your first habitat for the first nine months of your lifetime. Yes! I imagine same thing as you do; The darkness. Although indescribable not until the stage of maturity.

That nine months were basically composed of kicking(to give your mother and the family joy), eating and living in dark comfort.
Finally, am out falling into a cold hand, a whisking breeze, blur colour spectrum more refreshing than my close-to-a-year of lightless experience. That peg served as an insignia on my belly button to tell that I have arrived. I do not recognise its colour.

After all the post birth hospital rites, I go home with my family. The day following is described by an unending inflow of visitors for subsequent days. These visitors come in such amount twice in your life. My eyes are filled with too much colours at my age, they think I can’t see properly or at all, how dumb. Their static reasoning is that my vocal mumbling is legal baby gibberish. I see that my carriers(although countless) are coated with two colours either black or yellow, I discover that I fall in the middle. All these colour fill and disturb my head during my sleep. The nocturnal period seems soothing for me, the best colour. My first colour.

Advancing to the teenage stage of my life, I learn academically how to mix colours and get an end product. This is my stage of mental development, I indulge in deep thinking. What is the constituent of the globe? Eye catching colours that are overrated, which is not given a second thought before acquisition. Does it make the less caring materialist colour blind? As I walk home, to my right, that man feeling he possesses a strong brain just downloaded a carton of 33 export larger beer. Fifty steps away from my left, I hear a hot moaning sound, my conclusion- sexual activity. The district I just passed, those youths smoked hell out of the shisha for highness sake. I do not condemn all these actions. But I ask, what does extravagancy profit? I root all these evil to the devil at the creation phase, his honey-tongue swayed the wisdom seeking first mother Eve, and the story moved on to Adam then to leaf dresses and the recognition of colour and rot.

I get to that stage where I work so hard studying basically for 1,461 days to make a good out of my self and appreciate my parents. My four years is extended by uneven breaks mostly for financial reasons. My story ends at the 3rd year of my academic pursuit. I got battered and killed by a colourful man made material; an automobile. An expensive demi-god like me at a young age and stage.

I get a massive turn up of visitors once again, but in a different mode and state of mind. At birth you get visitors from near, far and wide with an euphoria of joy, visiting happily with beaming smiles and laughter presenting gifts and cuddling you with much love. Congratulatory phone calls on per second basis comes in from those who can’t make it.

The death stage, best described with sour and bitter emotions. Your visitors return with tears, saddened faces. The less caring or emotional visitors seek for drinks(mainly alcoholic) and food, to celebrate a life well spent? Or gone too soon? Leaving before those who brought me. So sad and improper. However I give thanks for all things, firstly for leaving this encompassment of various colours and heading to one of the many mansions built and maintained for my inhabitance and comfort during my arrival as promised by my heavenly father.

I rest in peace. Amen.

*written in remembrance of Master Justine Efenji Oko
Died on the 29th of March, 2015.
In our hearts you will forever dwell.