Is religion a way to finding God, or is religion a culture. And if it is the former, then why did Father stop me from praying on the Bago Super Sack like a muslim, and why did Halimas mother warn me never to teach her daughter the Lords prayer? Was she worried that her daughter would grow up confused? Was my Father worried that I would grow up confused? I realize that this entire novel would be incomplete if I avoid talking about all of the things that troubled me as a kid. Did my God profer the one and only way to heaven, or did Halimas? And if our religions were a way to finding God, to knowing God, to loving God, and to becoming better human beings; then why did our parents stop us from exchanging religious ideals? Let us not pretend that christians havent heard bad things about muslims, and let us not pretend that muslims havent heard bad things about christians. Still, wouldnt it be safe to say that God is religion? And that our common faith is in the belief of one supreme being? There were a lot of things that Halima and I traded. We traded prayers, we traded worships, and we traded songs. She would ask me to clasp my hands together like a bowl of water and pray. I would ask her to bread her hands together and pray. She would ask me to kneel and bow my head facing mecca to pray. And I would ask her to close her eyes and pray. Do not intrude on my story. This is my story. You can go somewhere else to write yours if it makes you uncomfortable. Halima and I would act many dramas in the abandoned garage about a Muslim man and a Muslim wife married together. She would bring me my Jesbi and I would pray for Allah guidance and protection upon our drama family. As children our idea of a home was me going out to work and bringing home the beacon, and she serving me food when I arrived. In our bedroom scenes we would jump on the bed, say goodnight, and sleep. We would trip the lights off. Has the problem with the world always being the persistent need to create a divide? And is there such a thing as religion transcends? Halima and I planted an orange and watched it grow. Everyday when we would get back from school we would hurry to the backyard to check if the orange had grown a little taller. Itd take years before that orange starts to bear fruits, my Mother told me. I told Halima what Mother had said. Yes it would, but atleast it wont grow alone. Theres you, theres me to always water it, Halima said. Its easy to not to notice the tiny words of wisdom that flow from the lips of children. Its easy to dismiss it. And on the day Father told us that we would be leaving Lagos I wept in Halimas arms. Father says the police are posting him to Jos, I said; crying. Dont worry, Kelvin. Wed be calling each other, she said. 20years later I met Halimas Mother and Father at the Maitama Central Hospital in Abuja. I asked them how Halima was doing. I asked them if she was still as wise as she used to be. Halima has grown up now o. She has stopped doing all those childish things that she used to do, Halimas mother said. I am not quite sure that I was happy to hear that. Grown up? Yes, I expected her to be grown, but Stopped Doing Those Childish Things? I wondered if Halima would still be as open to my religion as I was with hers. I understood that she was a girl, and I was a boy. I knew that things would change. I just never wanted them to. As children we were neutral, and maybe neutral isnt that bad of a common ground to stand on. Neutral is peace. Michael Ogah.
Posted on: Fri, 28 Nov 2014 19:42:45 +0000
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