GOD'S DEATH

I have seen this before. The clutching of the throat for life, the gasping for breath and the tears flowing out of the eyes. The faint whispers calling my name and and the outstretched arm advocating for help. Now I am seeing it again and this time, its my very own blood involved.

When I was still a kid, I had watched my mother drift away slowly from me. Although mother loved God and talked to him everyday, God never loved her as he called her home quick. Mother spoke highly of God like they were best of friends. Whenever we wanted to eat, mother would always call on God to come dine with us in our little kitchen. Most times, if I got sick, she would sit all day beside me, begging God to heal me, which he always did after series of bitter pills and mentholated syrups.  My relationship with my mother never had a strain, at least not until she started caring about God more than me. Not until she started always asking God for help every time, making her look like a beggar. I started seeing God as my father's rival, Even though I never knew my father. I had heard words about him. Words of him loving the bottle than his family, words if him using human body as punching bags and all, but I still loved him and it always pained me to hear her talk of God far better than my father. Sometimes, I would even hear her say words like "ooohh Lord, take me" and I wondered where he was taking her to. Even during prayers, she would ask him to come and be her husband and father to her son - me. She would even ask God to provide for our daily needs and to guide us right. Then I started seeing God as an adulterer. One day in Sunday school, I asked what the punishment for adultery was. The teacher answered that only God had the right to judge and at that point I knew that God would never judge himself. That he was a cheat.  Even when my father would come home for punching practice, she would still say "God would judge you". This would anger him and he would go ahead to beat her more and I supported him because since God was a Judge, he would never judge himself nor my mother for adultery. 

On the day when the wife of the cheating God wanted to pour down little children in form of rain, my mother was outside tending to her little vegetable farm hoping that God would hold the rain for her, God failed to answer her prayers and the rain started its heavy downpour. It fell immediately and hard that my mother never had the chance to get away quickly into our little shelter. I ran outside, wanting to help her pack the oversized farm tools, only to find her on the floor breathing hard, her hands outstretched beckoning for my help. Immediately I got to her, she told me to get her inhaler for her. Even though I still had a grudge with her and God, I ran as fast as I could into our shelter with wet clothes and a shivering body. I came out back after five minutes of unyielding search only to find mother fully stretched on the floor with her gaze fixed to the sky. The rain poured hard and hit her bulgy eyes. God himself had killed her.

....... and here I am, seeing the whole scene play out again, except that this time, There is no rain. Just me and my daughter. Little Mary lay on the hospital bed. Her hands fully stretched at her sides. Her face looking at the ceiling and her eyes secreting fluids from a heart of pain. I hold her hands hoping to feel the warmth I have always felt but this time, all I could feel was cold. Ice cold.
"Papa, am I going to die?" She asks in unclear whispers. The only reply I can think of is to go down on my kneels and pray to the taker of life, to give her my mother's life. All I can do is to pray to God to please spare her life. The same God that had taken my mother's life.

Kindly upvote and comment... Remain my humble self (AJIBADE)