WASTED YEARS

Growing up in the interior was a life with mixed experiences, fun and deprivation to extremes. Fun, in that the serenity of a village setting offered an endless play time for village folks. The routine life of rising early to do your chores, go to stream with peers, prepare for school, return to farm in the evening, eat, out for moonlight play and sleep did not give room for serious thought about the future. Life was a merry go round with activities that have been discovered to be of little consequence.

Everyone was like the other, farmer, petty trader, teacher and at most civil servant. Though there were some citizens of the community living in the cities few made it to the top then. Only a storey building built by his uncle, who retired as a Manager in Nigerian breweries, was standing in the whole community. His big family was privileged to produce some elites the community could boast of at this time. At least, another Uncle was an Assistant Police Commissioner before the civil war. His own Dad was a teacher before he opted for business and in all sincerity a successful businessman by every standard at the time. Another was purchasing Officer of a construction company, Tel Woodrow. Some others were average people in different fields of life. There were couples of houses made of corrugated iron sheets but thatch ones out numbered. In fact, only three families could afford Gen Sets and Television. Emeka and other children would be scrambling to peep through the window to behold this white man’s wonder whenever it was put on at night.

      One might pause to ask why such poverty? It was one of the communities devastated by the shelling of civil war. The people were just recovering from ruins of the war. Men had been displaced and dispositioned from work and business places in the cities. Some who made efforts to return at false reconciliation propaganda of the Federal Government aimed to buy face with outside world were eliminated serially. So, men out of fear and frustration found solace in the village, doing miniature jobs to ache a living. Since no good job was coming from Federal government offices, agencies and companies headed by Nigerians because the Biafrans were defeated in the war, majority made due with trading. No mind boggling challenges came from anyone. All these happened in the seventies.

        At that time, food was not a problem to provoke to serious thought, at least for children. The land was still yielding increase despite the effects of war. If there was need to think about the World and its problems, we did not realize it. We always believed that our parents were in the corner, not until we are left alone to try.

         As we look back, none that we could remember looked beyond what the environment could provide, artisan of various kinds. So going to school was not called a business. Parent’s desire was for us to read and write in order to prepare us for a handiwork. Back from school to farmland because we must work hard to earn a little naira to run the other family expenses. Money was not easy to come by: people were selling their different stuffs to keep life. The use of Biafran currency has been outlawed by the Gowon government in power. And only 20 pounds fiat compensation was handed to every Biafran no matter your previous savings before the war.

By this, to succeed in school required additional hard work which was really lacking then. Some friends will go on game expeditions; hunting rabbits and squirrels.

At night, we keep wake to tell folktales in the moonlight.

 Emeka’s Dad had just returned back to his kano base to begin life afresh amidst fear of the unknown, so none else could stir us up to read our books. His mum had little education. Often times, she would ask whether we would not read our books. But it was not forceful to secure our obedience.

         Gradually education awakening started coming in again but only few of us had caught the zeal and Emeka has fallen among the play loving group.

He failed his primary six exams while some other friends passed. A little sense came into him. He was determined to succeed the next sitting and so it happened. His performance in two years in secondary school was excellent as he never came beyond third position. Temptation into the world of fun swept him the second time. He got addicted with music such that we could go during break to Record shops to listen to new LPs in town and remain there only to realize we have missed some lessons. He joined the gang of night crawlers for the sake of music. He never smoked nor entangled with girl friend affair. The only popular drink was palm wine which his Grand dad used to tap, beer was not for children and money was not there too. And he was not a drinker. In fact, the desire to become a priest was still very strong despite his failure in the final interview. Night crawling was just for the fun of music, no one could stop him even his disciplinarian Dad until an incident that brought him back to reasoning again occurred. He resolved to live right and face his studies. By this time gap has been created in his academic performance that he could not do pretty well to gain admission into the university until after four years. Coming out of youth service was unemployment that greeted Babangida regime until now. He would not have been a victim of unemployment few years before if he was diligent with his studies, so he was caught in the web.

Years went in search of job. Though he has got additional certificates to his credit and a job to keep life going yet looking back are lost years and opportunities which he wishes he could regain. No one taught him to live up; He always felt the urge in him.

 God was helpful; some friends of ours did not survive the mess.

          Living in the town offered a leverage which village could not, at least my own. Challenges as you see people bent in pursuit of one ambition or the other and being insatiable of goals attained keep you on the toes. It was absent in the village then. Everyone was comfortable at nothing. When he reasons now that some Directors of companies, Governors, Senators and Some Presidents and Billionaires are not much older grief will almost slay him. In regret he wishes hand of clock could turn back again. There is so much to be done with little time left. If it is possible to live a second time, he would without delay offer his prayers to God.

        This is Emeka’s story. You may have none, similar or worst still. There is a wastage many are guilty of, may be you too, that is, wasting life in worldly pleasure, passion and pride.

 Just as he played away his time without thinking about the future, too many people are doing so for a number of reasons without eternity in view. They might not be lucky to redeem the time as God enabled him and might wake up one morning to realize that the Saints have gone or slip into eternity unprepared.

Some Folks never bothered to ask hearty questions about eternity and how to be there or who takes one there. Others frown at Religion, Christianity but comfortable with occultism and free thinking.

Those with little interest have no time now to think about religion, only when certain set goals have been achieved. Besides, they were not taught to believe in Christ nor the born again stuff.

Living in vanity and pride without care, nor accept that Jesus was crucified on the cross for all human being or to spurn his word might be fatal at last. It will mean foolishness to spend ones life in sin, fear, doubt and unbelief while the Savior is still granting salvation.

How long then will you wait to embrace his open wide stretched arms for you?

Remember, it is in the Earthly Courts that people could be guilty with reasons and obtain the audience of the Judge for defense.

Please do it now and don’t waste your own years.

 Think about it.

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