File photo of religious leaders
Forgive me father for my rambunctiousness. For the very fact that I frequent the Church to cleanse my heart of my despicable deeds confirms my fallibility.
I dare say what I say now because in my baptism, you did not only anoint me priest and king but a prophet. Father, it was a night of terror, a night of hallucinations but I know what I saw. I was soaked in my own sweat and the tears that stood in my eyes were enough to douse a bushel of flame. But again, I have to doubt my own sanity. It was one of those nights that I never wished to have.
I saw the angel of death riding on a pale horse. Is the day of rapture due? I was baffled. Yet the invincible forces that held me informed me chaos would soon be unleashed if the gods did not wake up from their slumber. “How is it so”? I feebly asked. As usual, and as it was with my predecessors I was asked to watch and not to talk.
It was reiterated to me, judgement would start in the house of God, and those of whom elected to lead. For those who worship in the synagogue of Satan, the reaper would soon come and their torment would be twelvefold the others.
I mustered courage and asked: “but is our heavenly father not a merciful One”. Yes! My guide told me He is not only rich in mercy, slow in anger but He also punishes the unrepentant souls.
So long they have gloated of their natural resources and many of them will thank God for blessing them beyond measure. Yet still the torture they mete to themselves is saddening. The bowels of mother earth have been scavenged for its precious minerals leaving in its wake, death traps, destructions of vegetative cover, which is home to millions of medicinal plants.
The very waters that sustain the souls of the impoverished have been rendered toxic. My guide then told me the perpetrators may be lucky to escape punishment here but the incorruptible hand of God cannot be twirled. The hereafter is not an illusion. They that have ears should hasten and cleanse their fetid souls.
Too long they have endured this plague. A strange disease that has baffled science and religion. Yet again this would test their own commitment to love, and desire to keep one another. Inherent in the blood of many is the tendency to scam and exploit.
As the health workers are overwhelmed, and infrastructures running out, I saw a horde of invincible gods hoarding for themselves, the donations meant to alleviate the suffering of the people. To them, it is their time to ‘chop’. I was told their punishment would be grave for soon, the reaper would cast them into the inferno.
I pleaded for pardon for those caught in this web. There and then, a sceptre was thrusted into a wall. I saw a picture of Professor Allotey: The great mathematician and scientist. A voice asked me how soon the gods would set up the Allotey Mathematical and Science Institute (AMASI), to investigate tropical diseases as well as to gather young mathematicians and scientists to explore space science.
When I informed my guide that our economy is in distress, I was told $10 million meant for rehabilitating a Cathedral in faraway France is enough to commence (AMASI). I was told to warn the gods to avoid religious, and ‘political tokenism’ since it would never earn them a seat in the hereafter. Vanity is it and vanity it would be. Jah Jehovah El-Shadai Elohim Adonai should be worshiped first in the hearts of humans then, maths and science.
From afar, I could see the clan elders grappling with the very things that threaten their sovereignty. For eight days and nights, they each were allowed to spew out from their hearts what they felt could be done to advance and preserve the sanctity of their clan. ‘To criticise is to restore’, were the words of their sages, which they had believed and held.
It was not long before they were sent into a frightful scamper. The chief orator, through his scribe, has mandated that the days of critiques were over. No one dared question the divine king for god, he said was beyond reproach.
One of the clan heads who had attempted asking if they had retrogressed into the dark days when rogues and dictators had seized the reins of governance, was dragged before the chief executioner. Slowly and painfully, his tongue was wrenched, his eyes gouged out and finally, his head decapitated.
The diviners, scribe leaders and those whose voices were loud went silent. The elders were afraid of their own whispers. I pleaded with my guide not to let me see such callousness again. My frail heart was never meant to withstand the sight of those things.
After departing from this sickening spectacle, a chapter in First John 19 was flipped to me. In it, my divine guide spoke of God’s love. One that requires another to lay their lives for their friends. One that requires His people to love their fellow irrespective of: religion, tribe, political affiliation, stature and status.
A trumpet sounded and a voice so loud that it could reach all the ends of the world bellows: Woe to those who trade the house of god to marauding leeches, woe to those who do not see beyond the sin of the sinner—the bigger sin, the warmer the welcome. Woe to those who make the house of god a den of thieves, magicians and gamblers.
Woe to those whose deeds shackle the children of God to perpetual economic servitude. I was then asked to capture all that I have seen. When I doubted in my mind, for in the recesses of my heart was my own fear of losing my tongue, mouth and head, I was told my own verdict would be grave if I did capture every detail of what was shown to me.
Nothing puzzles God. As it is granted to me to live this day by divine will, it is my obvious duty not to keep what I am instructed to say.