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Sunday, December 12, 2021

SHORT STORY: Madness of a Gang by Omoruyi Uwuigiaren

 

It’s a cross that I must bear. The weight of which could sink a ship. The piece had eaten deep into the fabrics of my life and things are no longer the same. Marking the time, the desert foxes are ever hungry. The city hustlers barely had enough. No one is safe. The hammer falls and the fly dies. The bell rings and the old crone storms out of sleep. 



You can bruise her petals, eat her fruits but never take a loyal friend for a fool. On a bright Friday morning, I woke up with a start. The cockerel had sounded it was dawn. The rising sun was upon humanity, inflicting pain on some and sending healing on others.

The sun slowly crawled out of her abode and walked majestically to her esteemed seat somewhere on the plains of the beautiful earth. Singing from the horizon, her voice could be heard around the country. Men speak of her legendary. Men worship the rising sun. Her eminence, her clemency were up in the air. She revealed herself as soon as the moon drifted home to her holy interiors. It was a pretty price to pay. Their paths are forged from infinite clays. The toughest of its kind. The best from the corridors of heaven.

People have identities. Tribes should live side by side. Not one trying to dominate another. These bodies are a world of their own. Often they descent in humility to spread love to the filth, the smelly feet and the dusty roads that lead to nowhere.   

I was full of energy but when I remembered the challenges ahead of me, my countenance fell. Disillusioned and frustrated that I was achieving so little in the midst of plenty. So much on my table to handle and I had little time to get the tasks done. The highway to underachievement is never to try. Driving on the autobahn and still stumble makes no sense.

It’s a cross that I must bear. The weight of which could sink a ship. The piece had eaten deep into the fabrics of my life and things are no longer the same. Marking the time, the desert foxes are ever hungry. The city hustlers barely had enough. No one is safe. The hammer falls and the fly dies. The bell rings and the old crone storms out of sleep.


Madness of a Gang by Omoruyi uwuigiaren

My courage have been tasted. Whether the challenges would kill me or not, was my cup of tea. In this ever changing world, any man that fails to run through the wall for his own good will suffer. Freedom cannot be chosen for another. The price is costly and the road is narrow. No mortal man escapes the earth without a taste of her bread of sorrow.

          I was supposed to be at the office by 8 am, fix some things before leaving for an important meeting somewhere in the heart of Lagos. Going to the office right away was a good idea. But there was the likelihood that once I get there, the chance of going to the meeting would be slim. The horrible traffic in Lagos have left many groveling at the feet of despair. Those who could not stand the heat have walked into silence or relocated completely out of the city. It is our charge to stay alive and hope for a better life. If we don’t persevere, trouble times will free our wretched head from our miserable shoulders.

          After I had carefully analyzed my schedule as I laid quietly on the bed, I elected against going to the office first. It was going to set me back some hours and the meeting was slated for 1pm. Which means by the time I will be done at the office, the day would have been far spent. I decided it was safer to head straight to the meeting at Egbeda, Lagos. It was an emergency meeting of Indigenous Publishers Association where I was the interim secretary. Once we end the meeting, I can return to the office to work.

           I rolled out of bed. My pair of legs carried me to the bathroom where I washed my body clean. Not long after, I was back to the room to dab my body dry and put myself in clean clothes. At this point, my mind was made up. And I was happy that I had made the right decision.

          I carried myself out of the house, secured the door and descended down the old dusty road that leads to the bus stop. The bizarre world, the noise, the rivalry and the misfortune that it sometimes bring hardly go away. Some people walk to the grave with truck load of misfortune. It is an essential part of human story. Like an umbilical cord attached to the body from time immemorial. Only separated at the point where the new born sets foot on the beautiful earth. Or when a man finally bade world farewell. All men are going to die. Presumably, it is better to die in a battle of your own choosing.

Humans are free to choose their own fate. Some legs crush the face of the old earth, others slowly maneuver their pair of legs around the corners. I was in my world, dutifully coordinating myself. My legs were following a rhythm. I could hardly hurt a fly as my feet barely touched the earth. I was winning and happy until hunger struck with a dreadful sting.

It was a call. Celestial as the windows of heaven. Breakfast cannot be chosen for another. I decided to stop at a spot to catch a bit of breakfast from the restaurant of the morning. I was already close to the bus stop. I raised my head and glanced about. There were many food vendors around and I had the luxury of choosing. I turned a corner and stumbled into one of the restaurants that I felt was right for me. My ego was at work and had grown taller than the pair of legs that carried me. Character defines a man.    

There were about three men or more seated in the little room where the aroma of the freshly cooked meal filled the air. I settled into one of the seats in the extreme. The man that sat before me had already been served his meal. He was quietly eating when I walked in. My plan was to settle for rice, steamed fish and stew. But when I sat next to the Igbo man eating “eba” and “egusi” soup, I could not help but salivate. It was easy to change my mind and order for what had caught my fancy.

The carefully prepared “eba” was a mountain on the table. And the soup was steaming like hell. I have seen enough and there was no going back. The rice and stew was good. But it was hard to say no to the eba and egusi soup. The temptation of a decent meal was tough. The weight of which could sink a large man. I was drawn to the soup because its aroma filled the room and left me salivating. What more can I ask for? I was starting the day the right way. The right food and the right mindset are crucial to a good life. 

I turned to the young lady who stood at the door. The poor soul was nicely dressed. She should be in her late twenties. Her skirt barely reached her knees and the dark skin on her thigh was a constant distraction. Beauty is eternal. Staring at her could ruin my day. This was an invitation that I was not ready to accept. Her skin shone like the rising sun and her round ass filled the room. Her look suggested that she had been expecting my call. She was on her duty post. I don’t expect anything less. Before I could blink and signal her to come, she was already by my side with a broad smile on her face. Her flirtation was going to hurt me if I do not resist and mind my business.  

I raised my head briefly and bade her to give me her ears. She bent her body over. Her blouse exposed what I had not prepared for see. Her boobs were revealed. Even though her bra was in place and tightly fitted to her body. It was easy to see that her bra was doing so much to keep the breasts in their proper place. The breasts weighed a ton. I felt the large mass on her chest were reason why men frequent the restaurant.

However, it will be hard to stare at the lady and not worry about the pressure between your legs. I had a bulge between my legs but my native attire meant that no eyes would see the disturbance that the lady had caused. Pointing at the man’s meal, I whispered that she should serve me exactly what the man was eating. It was an honorable thing to do.

Without hesitation, she rose to vertical and her boobs stumbled back to position. The fountains were slightly sagged and the attraction was rife.  She turned and walked away. My eyes followed her to the corner where she disappeared into the kitchen. I breathed deeply and sank into my seat. She was a distraction. However, I felt good about the whole package. I was in the company of people who I think knew the worth of a good life.

Soon, she was back to my side with a plate of eba and egusi soup. Our plates of eba were competing for space on the table. Each man was in his own world and could barely see one another because the meals had become a fortress and mountain between us.

I requested for a bottle of water to drink and another to wash my hands since what I was about to do will require the active participation of my hands. They were duly served by the same lady.

Then I washed my hands in the bowl of water and proceeded to dismantle the exotic dish. The plate of eba was a monument and I could barely see the other side of the table. Only proper execution would make it plain. As I ate quietly, two men walked in. one sat next to me and the other sat at the other side of the table.

I barely raised my head and glanced at them because the task have been made difficult by the plate of eba. And it was my duty to bring it down to earth. It was an uphill task. But the sweet taste of the meal had only made the job easier. I dug deep and fought gallantly all the way.

The man looked in my direction and spoke in Igbo. He mentioned a bank. I guess he was trying to ask about a bank. Since I wasn’t an Igbo and could not understand him, I ignored him completely and faced my meal.

The man felt I did not hear him. He cleared his throat and decided to ask his question again. Now he was staring at me. As was the first time, he spoke in his Igbo dialect, expecting a response from me.

There was no answer.

Then I adjusted my frame and send some morsels of eba down my throat and pushed them down with a glass of water.

Perhaps, frustrated that I gave him no attention, he finally said in Pidgin English, “Oga, na you I dey follow talk. Sebi bank dey this area?”

I slowly raised my head, looked at him in the face and replied, “You are talking to me and you are speaking Igbo language. You forgot this is a public place. Not everybody that is light in complexion is an Igbo. Well, there is no bank here. But there is an ATM at the other side.”

“But you resemble Igbo man.”

“I am not an Igbo man!” I sounded sternly.  

“Where you from?” he asked in Pidgin English. He masked his frustration with a smile.

Sensing that if I say I am from Delta state that it could lead to a long argument over where I belong because some people from the South East are of the opinion that people of Delta state are Igbo, I decided to say something else so that I can have my peace and be off his hook. However, my decision only made the matter worse when I revealed to the man that I was from Edo state.

He looked at me as if what I had just said was enough to send me to the gallows. “You are Igbo!” The Igbo man said with the mere wave of the hand. “Oga, una be Igbo. Period! Una dey under us! Una be Igbo!”

Red with rage, I dropped the morsel of eba in my hand on the plate. I looked angrily at him and said, “Oga, you are very funny. So every Nigerian that is not Yoruba or Hausa is an Igbo?”

“Yes na! When Biafra go, una go follow us.” Then he turned to his friend, “Johnny, you no tell am?”

“In Nigeria, na only Hausa, Yoruba and Igbo be the three major tribes. If Hausa and Yoruba go, una go follow us. Na under old Eastern Region una dey. Una be Igbo! Delta and Edo, na Igbo all of una be,” Johnny told me.

I was angry as I swallowed hard and glanced at them coldly. Slowly, I said, “I see your minds have been polluted. No matter how hard I try to explain that Nigeria has over three hundred and seventy tribes, you won’t believe. Every one of these indigenous people have their own identity. An Edo or Delta indigene is never an Igbo man. They do not have the same culture and tradition. The earlier you believe this, the better for you.”

They looked at me and laughed aloud. “Oga, you no know wetin dey happen,” Johnny stated in Pidgin English again. “Accept your fate say you be Igbo man.”

Sensing this was going to degenerate into a problem, I stated, “I have heard enough.” I belched. “If I say my mind, you will not like it,” I told them with a streak of meanness. Then I washed my hands, rose to my feet and signaled the waitress to come. Once she was by my side, I took out my wallet from my pocket, I paid for the meal and walked away. I crossed the road to the other side and got into a bus that was bound for Egbeda.

There are many people out there who don’t respect you because you are an ethnic minority. It is easy to wipe out minority tribes. For this not to happen, every tribe, no matter how small must stand their ground, have a say in the national discourse and resist any attempt to debase and trample on their rights.

It is evil and wrong for an Igbo man to think other tribes from the Southern region of Nigeria are under them or should identify with them. People who have this mindset will hardly tolerate diversity. People should not be forced into any union simply because they are next door neighbours.

If you don’t respect people, their identity means nothing to you. It is dangerous to dwell among people who are easily threatened by diversity. Some people don’t believe in diversity that is why they can argue that an Urhobo or Itsekiri man is Igbo. The earlier we see that unity does not mean there is no diversity, the better for us all. There is strength in diversity.

 


About the Author

Omoruyi Uwuigiaren is a former cartoonist turned writer. When he was a kid, he loved music and composed songs for his high school band. After school, he wanted to pursue a career in music. Instead he embraced writing and studied Mass Communications. His literary works and books have appeared in Moronic Ox Literary and Cultural Journal, Qwenu.com, Open Books, Urban News Express Online and many more. He’s the owner of Ruyi’s World of Books and Stories. 




Related stories

In the Line of Duty

No Longer The Same

The Bone in Our Neck

The Winning Mentality

Miracle, Medical Breakthroughs and the Losers

 


Read 

The Adventures of Nihu

 on Bambooks!

CLICK HERE TO READ NOW


Nihu is falsely accused of a crime and is banished to the Lonely Forest. He is challenged with a mission by a magical character. As brave Nihu quests to fulfill the mission and gain his freedom, he is sucked into a world inside of a stone, visits a powerful ruler in an underwater city, and makes friends with a group of refugees only a hero could love.





CLICK HERE TO READ NOW



There was trouble. 

Tom was at the heart of everything. 

When it involved the police, 

things did start to spiral out of control. 

You don’t need to know everything. You only need to know enough.




The City Heroes by
Omoruyi Uwuigiaren
BUY


 

Saturday, November 27, 2021

More Than a Beer by Omoruyi Uwuigiaren

More Than a Beer by Omoruyi Uwuigiaren


On a wet Sunday morning, I strolled by a church. Service was in full swing and it was a full house. There was hardly any space left for anyone to sit. It’s the culture in this part of the world for church service to be packed with humans seeking the face of God for solution to their problems. The days are evil, things are hard and many people are disgruntled. So they are constantly on the lookout for any resemblance of Jesus Christ walking on water.

In this dark times, the church is where some people unwind or find succor. Armed with dangerous prayer points, members could imagine themselves beat Satan to death. It’s almost a free world. Everyone is encouraged to engage in mental and spiritual exercise to stay alive. With the exercise, comes the right to cry their hearts out and then walk back home either to face the mountain killing them or be liberated. It is hard to be in this system and not get drawn into the emotional hole. It is a nightmare. Not throwing your weight behind this could make any overzealous soul target you Satan. Anyone riding on the wings of righteousness is not far away from redemption.

Some are fortunate to overcome after the marathon prayer exercise. Others stay the same and may need to look elsewhere for solution. In reality, not every nightmare requires some spiritual exercise to overcome. Some problems require strict adherence to physical solution before they can go away. So don’t approach physical problems with spiritual solutions. It’s like a Carmel trying to go through the eyes of a needle.

The world is not some distant country that must require a local travel guide in that country to show you the way round. Life is tough and it is far more complex than mere praying every now and then. Some people have died trying to figure out their problems. In clear terms, not all problems require you to fast and pray before they can be solved.  

Back to my story. The pastor was preaching about beer and beer parlour. He was spitting venom from the altar and the microphone was going to go up in flames. Words that could set a thousand feet on the run were dropping from his mouth like the night rain. It was his turn to sound like John the Baptist!

Break the camel’s back and get his pound of flesh. Whether his utterances were going to mislead the sheep was not the question. His neck was stretched like the peacock. His eyes crimson red. And his broad shoulders were almost competing with the skull that sat on his poor neck. Today was his day. Perhaps, the best day of his life. People will have much to worry. He was desperate to leave an impression that he was the next best thing.

The pulpit should be his stumping ground. He needs the space to pass his message. He has come of age. His type should never be in the background doing all the dirty work for the General Overseer. They should share the responsibility at the very top. Eat from the same table and if possible share the proceeds from the church equally. He needed to drill home his point before the time keeper takes the microphone from him and dispense him like a piece of trash. The work of God is not bread and butter. It is not an avenue to escape from the cruel hands of hell, escape problems caused by your poor judgment. It is a battle field where God’s generals are born and made. As hard as it may seem, God does not discriminate against anyone.

Mega churches like the Living Faith Tabernacle aka Winners Chapel are notoriously time cautious. It is understandable why they are so. Most of the time, they have three or more Sunday services to complete before the setting sun. It’s a marathon. The race never ends until the sun goes down. The setting sun is the target. Once the services are done, they can go home. So anything that will hinder the church from meeting this target is considered satanic and is easily dispensed.

On a good day, a pastor hardly exceeds an hour preaching on the pulpit. It is no news that people from all occupations attend church service. The pastor could run into trouble trying to impress people who are even more educated than himself. To be safe, be as simple as possible and as quickly as you can.

The pastor is expected to consistently put the devil to the sword or his employers will look elsewhere. It’s a rat race. Every preacher should know it’s a thin line between love and hate. Night and day. Winning and losing. Once you are at your wits end, the church wields the big stick and the culprit is tossed out of the window. You cannot last in the defense of evil. It’s a pain in the ass and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Preaching about beer and beer parlour is an interesting topic. But it could get some members agitated, especially men with protrude bellies who can hardly do without tasting a bottle of beer. You are expected to choose your strength over your weakness anytime you are asked to preach. The areas that attract people positively to you is your strength. Give it everything you have got to drive home your point. It is easy for anyone to preach about holiness, salvation and the love of Jesus Christ. If any preacher finds himself struggling to do these things, then he should leave the stage and find another job.

If a bottle of beer belongs to Caesar, don’t kill yourself trying to remind the people how it looks like.  They already have an idea about it. Preach the love of Jesus Christ. There is no end to what the power of Jesus Christ can do. If a man cannot elevate himself above mediocrity, he is finished.

So I slowed down to listen to the preacher. It was necessary. I could learn a thing or two from him. I wanted to know the category that the preacher belongs. Many are too quick to judge and they end making terrible mistakes. I don’t want to fall into this hole. I stood in a corner, leaned against the wall and faced the church. Heaven may have recognized my presence as one of the many people that attended church service that day. That cannot be said of the church. I am not sure anyone knew that a poor creature like me was outside the church listening to their pastor.

I wanted to be sure if he was educated or not. Most times, education plays an important role in how people approach situations. This is so about preachers too. The level of education of a preacher reflects in the way he or she understands the Bible and explains it. They are going to act along this line. If the preacher is educated, it is going to be his strength and advantage. If he could barely read and write, he will rely heavily on “hear say” and the level of his own understanding of the Bible to teach. In some cases, they may frown at the idea of doing research, studying to improve because they feel the Holy Spirit will always guide them. This could be calamitous if such person is allowed to handle sensitive matters.  Often than not, they will preach from this weak point of view and poor knowledge base.

If he was a mature pastor, it would show in his utterance. He will not sound stupid to everyone listening to him. He was either going to win me over to his church or lose me. One thing is surely going to happen.

Pastors are advised to preach from their strength and not from their weakness. Trying to impress people could backfire. Trying to teach on topics that are not familiar could put the pastor in the spotlight. Nowadays, nobody wants to listen to a fool, especially when he calls himself a man of God. You are easily scrutinized and slaughtered. Your chance of making is so slim that you need to be at your best. To do this, preach from your strength. If teaching solely about holiness is what gets people attracted to your church, stay on it. Preach holiness for as long as you can. Weave your stories around it. When you try to stray and talk about issues that you know nothing about, you will ruin everything.

Preaching from your strength gives vigour, power and zest. You are easily released to the supernatural and the members are easily touched and carried along. Doing it the other way, will only make you struggle and in the long run, you will sound stupid.


Ruyi's World of Book and Stories

As I listened, I noticed the pastor was struggling to choose his words. It was as if he was made to eat hot yam porridge against his wish. His maturity was called into question. His weakness was glaring for all eyes to see. He was boring and cold.

Why is this fellow talking about beer on a wet Sunday morning? I wondered as I waited for him to maneuver through the problems he had created for himself and drop the main crust of the message.

Then he cleared his throat and said it was sin to be seen in a beer parlour. I was not inside the church but I could imagine how uncomfortable some of the members could have been. He argued that people who see you in the beer parlour will think you are a sinner.

The moment he made the point, it was like he had won a lottery. Or perhaps, he had finally found his voice and was going to break the head of Satan. Things are suddenly falling into place for him. The frog that was in his throat had disappeared and heaven will fall.

The reward for his comment was a deafening silence in the church. I guess the members were not comfortable. This type of message is going to affect his rating going forward.

Many people still do not understand that we are in 21st century. Telling people who know that there are many activities that go on in a bar that it is sin to be there is evil enough. It is poor on the path of the preacher. You shouldn’t make statements that will warrant people to doubt your calling.

His argument did not go down well with me too. First, why do people worry about how people view them? Is that not a sign of weakness? Why do I have to worry about what people say about me? Even Jesus Christ ate with a sinner like Zachaeus.

The preacher forgot that almost all beer parlours in Lagos sell pepper soup, fried meat, soft drinks and lots more. It is called beer parlour does not mean only beer is sold there. He should know that not everyone that goes into a beer parlour to drink. Some people go there to eat and have meetings. God’s work is more than a beer.

 

About the Author

Omoruyi Uwuigiaren is a former cartoonist turned writer. When he was a kid, he loved music and composed songs for his high school band. After school, he wanted to pursue a career in music. Instead he embraced writing and studied Mass Communications. His literary works and books have appeared in Moronic Ox Literary and Cultural Journal, Qwenu, Open Books, Urban News Express Online and many more. He’s the owner of Ruyi’s World of Books and Stories. 



Related stories

In the Line of Duty

No Longer The Same

The Bone in Our Neck

The Winning Mentality

Miracle, Medical Breakthroughs and the Losers

 


Read 

The Adventures of Nihu

 on Bambooks!

CLICK HERE TO READ NOW


Nihu is falsely accused of a crime and is banished to the Lonely Forest. He is challenged with a mission by a magical character. As brave Nihu quests to fulfill the mission and gain his freedom, he is sucked into a world inside of a stone, visits a powerful ruler in an underwater city, and makes friends with a group of refugees only a hero could love.





CLICK HERE TO READ NOW



There was trouble. 

Tom was at the heart of everything. 

When it involved the police, 

things did start to spiral out of control. 

You don’t need to know everything. You only need to know enough.




The City Heroes by
Omoruyi Uwuigiaren
BUY


 

Wednesday, October 6, 2021

MOTIVATIONAL TONIC: "In Touch With the Nation" (PART 1) by Omoruyi Uwuigiaren

 

In Touch With the Nation

We are gods but there is a “Supreme Being” that rules in the affairs of men. This Supreme Being is the God of us all. “Behold, I am the LORD, the God of all flesh…” Jeremiah 32 v 27a. He is ever willing to accept people irrespective of their weakness and shortcoming. He is eternal, glorious and powerful. He is open to help anyone because we are all inscribed in the palm of his hands. This Supreme Being is not a material God that requires sticks and stones before He will respond to our call. He is a spiritual being and it requires a high level of spirituality to work with Him. “God is a spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth,” John 4 v 24.

We are grossly at a disadvantage if we appear before God empty. No matter how tough, identify with your maker and resist whatever will take his place in your life. Poverty is not an excuse to remain clueless and empty. God is all you need to have all your needs met. You cannot afford to fail or fall short of his glory. His power reveals a backing like no other. When placed on a scale, there is nothing heavier. There is absolutely nothing to lose if God is on your side. You are not only more than conqueror, you dictate the pace and rule in the affairs of men.

While you are spiritual in your service to God, you are expected to be in charge of your own life. As children of God, you have the power to take decisions, rest when you are tired, and find something to eat. You can also cloth yourself, seek advancement, embrace modernity and have a personal relationship with God. You are the number one prophet of your own life. If you have Jesus Christ, you do not need a middle man no matter who he is. According to the book of Genesis 1 v 28, mankind have been prophetically unleashed by the his Maker to dominate, control, multiply and subdue the earth irrespective of his religion, race, background, affiliation and ethnicity. 


In Touch With the Nation by Omoruyi Uwuigiaren
 

In Africa, especially Nigeria, not many have encountered this God because He is not popular. God is slow to anger. Slow to react because He is a God of process. God thrives in orderliness.  God moves faster where there is order. Because many people are not willing to follow due process, they seek alternative route. A project that ordinarily should take five or more years to achieve, many Christians in Nigeria want to have them overnight. Some Christians are like a student who gains admission into college for a four year program. After just two days in the school, he is already thinking that he is due for graduation. With the little or no knowledge, he jumps into the labour market to seek employment. He believes that since he has paid the tuition fee for the first year and spent some days in the class, he is good to go. He is qualified like the person who endured the hardship of learning for years. His status has to change since he is a child of God whether he is qualified or not. Sadly there are people who are willing to feed the ignorance to their own advantage. All they need to do is tell the people what they want to hear. Large percentage of the people wants to hear that the process is not as important as the proceeds. Just give or sow seed and you are going to be blessed. You will receive power from the miraculous. God will break protocols to bless you. He is a merciful God. He is going to turn your sorrow to joy right away. When mischievous people tell their followers that God is a miraculous God and that things can be achieved quickly by trusting Him, they don’t tell their followers how the seventeen year old Joseph who was sold to Egypt by his own brothers. And it took Joseph thirteen years of hardship, perseverance, serving the Lord in truth and in spirit, and frustration to become the governor of Egypt. “And Pharaoh said unto Joseph, See, I have set thee over all the land of Egypt.

“Then Pharaoh took his signet ring from his hand and put it on Joseph’s hand, and clothed him in garments of fine linen and put a gold chain about his neck.

“And he made him ride in his second chariot. And they called out before him, “Bow the knee!” Thus he set him over all the land of Egypt.

 “Moreover, Pharaoh said to Joseph, “I am Pharaoh, and without your consent no one shall lift up hand or foot in all the land of Egypt.

“And Pharaoh called Joseph’s name Zaphenath-paneah. And he gave him in marriage Asenath, the daughter of Potiphera priest of On. So Joseph went out over the land of Egypt.

Joseph was thirty years old when he entered the service of Pharaoh King of Egypt. And Joseph went out from the presence of Pharaoh and went through all the land of Egypt,” Genesis 41 v 41-46.

In the kingdom of God, there are no short cuts. There is nothing like quick fix. Samuel anointed David as the King of Israel when he was just a boy. When David was anointed, King Saul was still the king of Israel. Anointing is not a guarantee that you will not encounter trouble. It is only symbolic that you are for something special. It does not guarantee safety from attacks, enemies and struggles.

However, ascending the throne ordained by God for him nearly cost David his life. There was enmity between the house of Saul and the house of David which lasted for several years, and David had to flee for his life. Because the work of God is a process and you cannot cut corners, David had to learn the hard way. First, instead of becoming the king of Israel, he was first appointed the king of Judah. All these are part of the process.  2 Samuel 2v 1-4.


Ruyi's World of Books and Stories


You must accept the challenge and pay the price. There is nothing free in heaven. Even if the gifts are given freely, you must earn it.  Natural laws must take its course. The atheist, Christian or Muslim all have equal chance to make it in life. When God commanded mankind to dominate, subdue, multiply and replenish the earth, He did not limit this to any particular race, religion, affiliation or people. “And God blessed them. And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth,” Genesis 1 v 28. You don’t need to be a Christian to be rich. Anybody who understand the rules of how to get rich and applies them will be rich. Wealth has nothing to do with your affiliation to God or any religion. The earlier you know this, the better for you. Having God by your side is only a bonus. The power to decide whether you want to stay poor or rich is in your hands. God did not create you to have ears, mouth, eyes and brain for nothing. They are all you need to have all your needs met. Financial security does not come by being a Christian. You need to know the process. It is the process you apply that will make you rich. Do not allow anyone to deceive you that sowing seed in the church will make you rich or lead to instant miracles. It does not guarantee success.

Becoming a Christian only enhances your chances of going to heaven or having relationship with God. Being born again does not mean you will be financially secure. If your pastor tells you will be rich once you are born again, he is deceiving you. The true God does not require financial inducement to get His attention.

People who struggle or want the quick blessings always connect themselves to where they can get result without following any process or they are made to commit financially to cut corners and get the attention of God. In reality, they are only sowing to the wind. Breaking protocol, cutting corners or paying to get what you should ordinarily access for free is not the hallmark of God. It is Satan appearing as the angel of light. If God cannot answer your prayers in your house, He cannot answer your prayers in the church.


Meet the Author

OmoruyiUwuigiaren is a former cartoonist turned writer. When he was a kid, he loved music and composed songs for his high school band. After school, he wanted to pursue a career in music. Instead he embraced writing and studied Mass Communications. His literary works and books have appeared in Moronic Ox Literary and Cultural Journal, Open Books, Urban News Express Online and many more. He’s the owner of Ruyi’s World ofBooks and Stories.  



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Nihu is falsely accused of a crime and is banished to the Lonely Forest. He is challenged with a mission by a magical character. As brave Nihu quests to fulfill the mission and gain his freedom, he is sucked into a world inside of a stone, visits a powerful ruler in an underwater city, and makes friends with a group of refugees only a hero could love.





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The City Heroes by
Omoruyi Uwuigiaren
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