Visionaries -- A True Tale of Religion and Mystery #10

This is the story of an event that happened in a catholic school in Nigeria, events which I witnessed and was a part of, and which have never been resolved till date. Names have been changed, but the tale is true, and told as I remember it.

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Part 1
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Part 9

1:15pm

I left Miko and headed up to the chapel. I had very carefully offered no advice or verdict on his vision and he message he had received, just nodded along to his suggestions. He needed to pray? Sure, why not. He needed to make amends for the wrongs he had done to others? Not a bad idea either. He needed to be a better person and stop breaking rules blatantly? Might even help him become better at his duties as the senior prefect. But as he went down to the dormitories to begin to implement these and join in the free day sporting activities, I veered off my mission to get my novel from the classroom and went to the chapel instead. There, I sat on my usual seat two rows from the back.

My mind was buzzing. The intensity of the visions, it seemed, was increasing rapidly, and more and more credible persons were getting involved. I myself, in all honesty, had no idea what I believed at this point. Unless this was an elaborate prank spanning across the student hierarchy, I couldn’t not believe the visionaries had seen something. But why? And what was I supposed to do about the whole affair? Everything I had read and studied told me visions and apparitions didn’t just happen – weren’t just given – for the sake of ‘seeing’ alone. There was usually some bigger purpose to them. Also, I had never heard of a case of so many unconnected visions being seen by different persons at the same place and time. What possible purpose could they serve?

Perhaps if I had a vision myself, I would be told. There would be no harm in trying, would there?

Would there?

I looked up at the crucifix above the altar and began to meditate, concentrating hard on it and trying to block out everything else. It was a wooden crucifix, though the sculpture of Christ hanging on it had been recently painted white. Not white as in fair in complexion, but white as in the colour of snow, with glistening trails of bright red blood flowing from his palms, feet, and side. I could remember the afternoon those trails were added and we saw them for the first time – the entire school had stopped in shock at the chapel entrance. In our defense, the blood did look real. Nonetheless, it had been quite funny hearing the gasps and seeing the fear from the juniors and seniors alike. It still was.

I shook my head. My thoughts were drifting. I needed to concentrate on the crucifix and image of Christ and think on my questions.

The problem was, unlike Miko and the rest, meditation wasn’t the least bit new to me. I did it almost everyday, and it had never had anything to do with clearing my thoughts. On the contrary, during meditation, I dwelled on them. I would think on things happening to and around me and try to analyse them rationally and religiously. I would pray and ask for guidance, yes, but I never expected to actually see Jesus, Mary or the Holy Spirit coming down to speak to me. I couldn’t do it now.

So I sat there in the chapel, trying to clear my thoughts and utterly failing for 15 minutes before I finally gave up on the attempt. If some divine power had chosen to show me something, I would have seen it already. Perhaps it just wasn’t for me. Igwe had said it too – not everyone would see.

Still, I couldn’t accept that my role in all this was merely to observe. This might have been a tad arrogant –there were over 200 students in the school, why should I be special? – but I didn’t think of it that way. I believed firmly that the divine being called God had a reason for every event that occurred in every person’s life, and in this particular event, I was in a unique position, being at the same time very high in the student hierarchy and very respected as knowledgeable in spiritual matters – a sort of spiritual leader. The encounter with Miko proved just how willing people were to open to me. All that wasn’t for nothing, was it?

I got up and left, still contemplating deeply. I had no answers and it seemed none were forthcoming. It would be wiser to return to my usual activities and leave everything else for the divine. Que Sera Sera. Whatever happened, happened.

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