The Lion in the Mirror

I took a last look into the mirror for the umpteenth time, just to ensure that I was looking like a well-kept lawn. Just that last little look of vanity to ensure that I was looking OK, in the white shirt, golden tie and black suit.

Just that last little look to assure myself that I was well dressed enough to get a compliment or two, dressed enough to knock the ladies I might encounter off their feet just by the looks of one as fresh as I.

Just that one little look to ensure that I looked prime and proper like an English gentleman of nobility.
Just that one little look to assure myself that I looked confident and ready to take on the day regardless of whatever surprises comes with it.

Although I knew that whatever I saw in the mirror would be nothing short of a false reflection. A false reflection of masked emotions belonging to a scared little boy unsure of the decisions he had been making. A shy little boy too scared to express his thoughts and opinions fearing that they may suffer the crude criticism of the people he sometimes admired.

Just that one little glance of reassurance was all I took and what I saw was not a reflection of myself but of a lion roaring in the dark. I stood transfixed; a chill went down my spine, if I had a tail it would have dropped off, for the fear and shock of the sight in the mirror.

However, I stood still in front of the mirror, bewildered yet curious. My legs and every part of my body pleaded for motion in any direction but I refused to move. Not that I didn’t have the capacity to run though I was in total shock, neither was I too scared to do so but my curiosity seemed to have taken the wheel. I felt a buzzing near my ears and the roaring of the lion became a baritone voice which I understood clearly.

The voice said to keep calm and be reassured for though I had fallen several times and had gone down several wrong routes I would reach the greatness that lay ahead. All I needed to do was take a deep breath and put out the fear in my heart, which had been masked with seeming pride.

It was going to be alright again but not all rosses and blossoms for the task ahead required strength of spirit, body and heart. For the obstacle course ahead had been created to build way beyond a 6 pack and a GQ look.

Like a flash it all disappeared except for the retreating image of the lion that had metamorphosed into the image of me. It was as though I had met with my future self, who was not going to let me ruin it all.

Sultan Wais: A Different Name

They called me ‘Carrot’ because they attributed my height to eating plenty of carrots, especially after they tried eating beans and it didn't work out for them. The name changed to ‘NEPA bill’ because of a silly joke I made during an English class.

I graduated thinking I had left the nicknames behind, only to realise differently. The nickname became ‘Easy’, which sort of came from the Supa Strikas Goalkeeper, Easy Okola. It was sometimes ‘Eazy’ because of my actual name. I liked either name depending on who was calling it.

A new nickname was born when a lecturer adopted the habit of always asking for me in a funny way during his classes. As much as I tried to reject it, it seemed to have stuck; worse, it became generally accepted by my course mates.

As I warmed up to the nickname, I decided to make an addition to it and fell in love with it thereafter. It became more than a nickname; it became a different persona that I had previously hid away in the dark, away from the eyes of critics and ridicule.

A new me was born, one not too distinct from the original but one that freed itself a lot more from the unknown thoughts of others. I lived life through a different name, a different being that existed in the chemistry that only ink and paper could understand.

The alternate persona created the anonymity that I craved. The alternate lived life in a fantastical utopia, where perfection wasn't the aim but rather perfection in the discovery of middle grounds.

I had intended for the alternate to have a life separate from the original but seen only in words. However, the original became a little jealous and being the neutral party, I allowed the original and the alternate to merge in some places. Places where the original would take on more of the alternate’s persona.

However, the alternate will never be discarded despite this occasional merger, rather live its own life and be called upon to be of service in the moments when the original could not act. The alternate will never have a happily ever after because it was never created to live within the Cycle of Life.

Believer’s Anonymous

The words “there is safety in the gathering of the brethren” lit up in my mind as I listened to the Pastors speak about their experiences.  I realized, they are just like me.

I erroneously thought that the challenges and temptations I faced were unique to me. I had gone and filled myself with information about being unique, about being

different, and  I had forgotten to find out exactly what it meant.

As  I  listen to the Pastor as he spoke about living up to a promise he had made, I  began to understand more of what unique meant. I had fallen so low that I had begun to question the need for going to church.

It was as though I was at the edge of a cliff and was about to dive into a deep hole of nothingness. I 

was about to make that dive, through a promise to myself that for the next couple of days I would not go to Church, but rather sit and re-evaluate what a life without God meant because God didn't seem to be speaking to me. I put a pause on making the promise, instead promising to think it over once I got home in the evening. Little did I know that the idea of that promise would be popped with a pin.

It wasn't until months later, when I heard the Pastor speak on how God speaks to us through our circumstances that I truly appreciated what it meant.

That night on my way home, I realized that I had made a mistake at work, which would cost a lot. Baffled by this mistake, I had nowhere else to turn but to the Comforter. I struggled that night as I wondered what more that mistake would cost, but I trusted God to take control. The morning came and I arrived at work downcast and low in spirit, but God proved that in his hands are the hearts of kings and he can direct it in whatever way he chooses.

I realize now that the church is much more than a place for the Pastor to speak blessings and prophecies over lives. I liken the Church to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, because alcohol, like sin, could be addictive; despite knowing that it is bad for our health and destiny (James 1:14-15), we are still attracted to it because of its fleeting pleasures. Hence, I like to think of the church as a Sinners Anonymous where brethren who go through similar temptations ask the ever loving God for forgiveness and strength to remain true to Him.

I think of the church as a Lover's Cove where brethren profess their love and re-commitment to a God who first loved us, despite who we are. I see the church as a Victors’ Anonymous meeting where people share testimonies of how they have triumphed over life’s hurdles and obstacles.

I see the Church as a Believers’ Anonymous meeting where brethren, by faith, understand that the universe was created by the Word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible.

A Believers’ Anonymous meeting where brethren, by faith, seek to please God by drawing near to Him, knowing that He exists and rewards those who seek Him.

A Believers’ Anonymous meeting where brethren acknowledge that the patriarchs in the Bible all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. (Hebrews 11:1-16)