real issues by Bola Olawale
Time to Count
D
riving down the Lagos third mainland bridge in the early morning traffic that seems to go on forever, Bimpe already drenched in her own sweat, was caught up in one of those usual moods that left her wishing for a different kind of life. A white sleek Benz pulled up beside her and kept pace with her old Datsun for a few minutes and soon she caught herself admiring the middle aged woman sitting lazily at the corner of the chauffer ridden car trying to catch a quick nap before the early morning meetings. There was something familiar about her and taking a closer look she realised it was her room mate in the University, Rita. Cringing into the car seat, Bimpe prayed she would not be seen in her old Datsun whose exhaust left a trail of smoke. As the car gained speed and sped past her, she heaved a sigh of relief. Yet, the experience aroused in her a metaphor on the imbalances of life so vividly captured by the several cars that now raced past her which appeared to relish the extra distance they gained over her rickety Datsun. How come everyone seems to be passing her by why her life crawled slowly behind? She couldn’t shake the feeling off her all day and she had barely walked into her apartment when she burst into tears, sobbing profusely against her husband’s comforting chest as he cradled her closely, unsure of
what may have caused her such great pain. She told him about her former room mate whom she saw in traffic that morning and another friend who sent her a text the day before to share the news of her new appointment as company secretary in to a leading bank, while she has remained on the same job for years without promotion for no particular reason. Two promotions have passed her by that placed younger staff above her and going to work has become an unpleasant experience. Her husband in his gentle manner began to recount the number of years they have been married - very happily - with 3 beautiful children, two of which were now in the university on scholarship and never a case of admission in hospital. Yes, they lived in a moderate 2 bedroom apartment in the suburbs of Lagos; Yes, they had to jump start their cars at times when setting out in the morning, but she had a very healthy life, with friends and families that loved her dearly. What more, she had the joy of knowing Christ with the peace that comes with it. He made her count the good things of life and by the time she noted a considerable number, she added rather vibrantly, ‘you forgot to add, a fantastic and caring husband’. So when next you feel that life is passing you by, know it’s time to count.
Someone to talk to
A
s an only child, Eileen grew up to see in her parents all that she could ever need in life. They were her role models, and an example of what every parent should be. With a fast start and great opportunities she had attended some of the best schools in town where she court the friendship of the privilege few. She was married to a prince charming, and had two brilliant kids. Being so bright and beautiful herself, she felt accomplished, deciding she could not have asked for a better life. Having learnt from her parents that hard work pays, she cared very little for those who were not doing well, concluding that they were simply lazy. After returning from work one raining evening, she got a phone call and the news, which all but shattered her life. Her father and mother had been involved in an accident along the Lagos-Ibadan Express way, on their way from a business trip. They both died in the accident. This couldn’t be happening she thought. She lived a fairy-tale life and never had any reason to think something so terrible could happen to threaten her fragile world, without giving her enough notice to prepare. 80
Upon the death of her parents, she realised they left her virtually nothing having spent all they had to give her the best of life. As if that was not enough, the bank where she had substantial amount, was closed down two weeks later, while her husband called with the news that the house in which they lived had been on mortgage and they had to move out in a few months. They could only keep one car and now her regular trips to the UK will have to stop. It was then she remembered the Anns and Topes she had snubbed when they called on her for help. Now the tables were turned, to whom could she turn? She felt so sapped and alone. That evening as she sat alone in the sitting room pondering on the life that lay ahead, her eyes caught a tract her cousin dropped for her a few days back. Written in bold were the words, SOMEONE TO TALK TO! She read through the tract and had an encounter with the Lord Jesus Christ. A few months after, as she stood at the entrance of the church welcoming ushering men and women to their seats, she felt a new sense of purpose, living to affect others. gemwoman | July/August 2007
