There are some sets of people I am convinced will never make heaven. Well, I don’t know if they will go to hell, either. The ones who not only know it all, but know better than you what is good for you.
Case in point:
Someone met me once in an office, holding a bottle of Coke Zero.
“Do you know that thing has “aspah-tar-May”? And that “aspah-tar-May” is used as embalming fluid so what you are drinking is toxic materials and that it can kill you?”
I look at him, pray for Jesus to take the wheel before I run this human being over, uncork my bottle of embalming fluid worreva, take a looooooooong drag out of it to help with regulating my temper; and then turn back to him.
“Do you know Sir, that going out of this door is a risk? A bicycle can knock you down. A trailer will climb you. And they’ll have to use shovel to pack your remains into a wheelbarrow for dumping into an unmarked grave since your people can’t identify you? And you didn’t even have to drink Coke Zero to die such a horrible death?”
“Hey”, he retorted. “I reject it in Jesus Name.”
I slowly uncork my embalming fluid and take another long drag out of it before responding,. “Never say never oga. Walking out that door today will be a deliberate risk you are taking”.
Suffice it to say the chairman avoided me through out his stay in that office – me and my embalming fluid – and kept muttering what I am sure were fervent and effectual prayers as he left the office.
People who cannot mind their business will definitely not make heaven.
Every well intentioned advice offered unsolicited to a total stranger, is one brownie point taken off your book of life register. And that is how people edge themselves slowly into hell without knowing.
Think about it. You are seeing me for the first time in your life in a pizza and ice cream parlor, “eating the life of my head”. You do not know me from Adam. Also, you do not know if this would be the first time I would ever be stepping foot in that establishment.
You do not know my struggles. A lot of people self medicate or wean themselves off depression with food. I am one of those who fight off dark moments with a sugar binge. After that, I am good to go for the next decade or so.
But there you are – Omni-knowest of the Universe – you are seeing me there. Or in an amala joint. Or at a donut shoppe. I am deliberately stuffing my face.
Common sense has not told you yet that this kind of binging can not be sustainable on a daily basis. It must be a one off thing. Even if it is not, your wallet will not take the hit. Mine will.
Yet, the hounds of hell will not stop beckoning to you. Whispering your name in the hot afternoon like it is in the still of night and they are your sultry mistresses.
You will walk up to me or whoever – because you have taken one look at us and decided that fat people should starve until they die – and come and offer your unsolicited advice.
Well done o, Patron Saint of salad and vegetables. What are you looking for in an ice cream parlor? Did you come on evangelism? You want to see how the other side sins? Or you just came to observe?
You all know where I am going to with this, right?
The last time I ever watched Big Brother, was in the days of Ofunneka Molokwu. Can’t remember the year or what that was all about. But I had a cousin who was in the house during her “gap” year and spent 99.9% of her time in front of the TV. Sometimes, I would stop and try to understand the lure. But fly on the wall doesn’t work for me – so I walk past.
I bought the television.
I subscribed to DSTV.
And I bought the generator.
It is my house.
I fuel it for her to catch up.
Heck, I even fueled my generator like two years ago for my neighbor to catch up. This was at a time when I was “restructuring” my life and didn’t have a TV in my room. So, every time this neighbor who hardly said a word of greeting to me knocked on the door on Sunday evenings, I would ask my cousin to ensure there was fuel in the gen, pack my property and enter my room.
In this day and age of our Lord 2019…
There are human beings…
Who claim NOT to be interested in BBN…
But yet, village people are ministering to them daily that BBN is a fornication sontin.
And because of that, they have left their own businesses, and are attempting to mind the businesses of other fully grown adults who…
Spend their time.
Spend their money.
Put their blood pressure at risk.
Spend their effort.
To cheer on their favorite housemates.
These professional business minders are fans of Western football clubs o. Is it not ironic that they can’t see it is the same train that is carrying them and the BBN fans?
And you all wonder how the kingdom of Hell will be depopulated at this rate when we are still trying to police the viewing and entertainment choices of other independent adults?
The more of you that are headed to hell, the greater the chances that I will be considered for a bigger mansion in heaven. One where I do not have to tolerate the antics of a gateman called “Musa”. I can even hire a security guard company to man my gates in heaven. Well, that is because too many of you over-sabbies are definitely hell-bound.
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