War stories: reality check

Home!

Never could get me to lie to paper as its contents come straight from the heart; an indulgence I crave over anything else. Coach says it’s my way of praying. I’m not sure I quite understand that but then, this medium is at best my preferred manner of communicating.

Mom’s in good shape. There’s a war out there! Stepping out of the confines of my four walls paints gory pictures from insecurity, gross misconduct to massive unemployment: epidemics! It becomes clear how much responsibility lies on my shoulder.

Few days ago, out of my four walled ecosystem, my mind was awash with the reality of the outside world. The bumpy ride ignited the harsh realities of the throes of corruption. A day earlier, the long foreseen nemesis of the society we’d sown caught up with us. Faceless individuals long abdicated by the state, long suppressed by its machines struck hitting both innocent and guilty right in the center of the Nation’s capital. In the end, we are responsible. Indeed, we are all responsible for the state in which we find ourselves and that responsibility piles on regardless of our state of denials. Yet, need anyone be surprised by the times of terror we face? It was noted that the day of reckoning would come. The day when the rich and mighty would find the streets hard to tread on with fire and brimstones burning from the ones it long tramped upon. Excuse the religious undertones to the terror attacks; unemployment, poverty and corruption are at the roots and its victims know no bounds.

Back to my journey, I counted close to a dozen religious places spread out across tens of acres of land. For what purpose? To empower my people with gospel news that translates to a life in heaven for them hereafter. Excuse my ignorance or blasphemy as may be interpreted by your beliefs but heaven’s here with me. Hedonism itself paints a picture of heaven here on earth. Or what else do the material prosperity which many seek translate to? Or even more, that which the self-acclaimed champions of these denominations live on.

For all the hellish state we’re in, the best many can offer are interpretations from the Holy books which hint at prosperity on earth buoyed by a need to sow materially towards a heaven that’s best imagined.

There’s war out here! Young ones on drugs, thugs line the streets all day collecting tolls, ladies at night selling flesh. Behold, the time is now when Messianic pursuits I take upon me pledging to do my utmost.  It’s time to put on an armour of responsibility for these scourge which plagues us. Sitting on the fence won’t help and neither will denying that which is obvious by choosing to abdicate our responsibilities to the most High.

Again, it feels good to be home. Nothing beats the country side. Well, I won’t be here for long given the war I have on my hands. Beyond bidding to put food on the table for my wife and kids, there’s even more for the citizenries. The countryside is utopia. Stay too long and I get eroded by the state of delusion. The reality is the world out there. It’s a reality check. There’s a need to regain the innocence that characterized my childhood. It’s easy to forget the ambience of the hood I once lived in downtown. 

Originally written between August 29 and Sept 4, 2011