Death. Owuo. Gbele. A word which many would like to forget and rather dwell on immortality. Why do you think there are so many wrinkle-removing creams and hair dyes. No one wants to be reminded about being like the flowers in the field. Death like taxes is very certain.

A week ago, my family and I celebrated the life of GranMa and GranPa who passed a year and 15years respectively. As tradition demands, we had to go to their grave sites for unveiling and remembrance. So there I was walking amongst the ever silent dead at the over-crowded Osu Cemetry , with my Canon poised for ghostly action! But as I followed behind my family, a thought struck me (painfully)…so after all is said and done, we end up in a box?

After the struggle for political power topped with generous amounts of insults and violence, politicians will lie still in a marble/golden/stone/wooden box? A box is a box.

After the Bentleys, 4WD, smartphones, Trasaaco houses, material gain and earthly treasures we fight and struggle to possess, we will be stuck motionless in a box? 


After years of cramming for exams, rolls of Masters and PHD’s degrees decorating our walls and endless congrats all round, we will be bound in a box?


I gazed upon hundreds of graves as if seeing them for the first time. So what profits a man if he should gain the whole world and lose his soul? That’s what I asked myself.
We are living in a generation of ‘me’ and ‘me only’ where the most important person is ME. An age of extremely high materialism with little thought given to the ‘how’ of gaining wealth. By all means gain wealth! Be as rich as Abraham or Solomon, but be careful it’s not ill-gotten wealth.


Why are people loving things more than people? Why should a woman say that she can’t marry a man who doesn’t have a car though having a job? Or a man choose a woman because of her higher income? And for what reason if not for money does a young lady date an older married man? 


What went through the politician’s mind  when he promised his faithful masses improved facilities and more jobs but rather dug into national coffers for his personal gain?


We are only pilgrims on this earth, our lives must be a reflection of people aiming for a greater beautiful land where no moth can destroy our treasures, where there will be no broken hearts, no politics , no boss, no servant, just an endless eternal joy which we can’t even imagine.

Brief and powerless is man’s life; on him and all his race the slow, sure doom falls pitiless and dark.



Happy Easter…Christ is Risen…He is risen indeed!

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