tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-224333002024-03-07T11:39:43.171-08:00THE JOURNALSA collection of my thoughts and experiences from my travels accross Europe, US and the rest of the world! (ie. Africa). These journals were birthed during my six month sojourn to Spain and France a couple of years ago and since then I've never been able to put my pen down whenever I travel. I hope you enjoy reading my mini adventures and that you vicariously join me in reliving these experiences as you read!MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-18258310369091484992008-11-09T22:14:00.000-08:002008-11-17T14:08:34.369-08:00The Vindication of HopeThe 4th of November 2008 will forever go down as a pivotal moment in modern history, one we will undoubtedly be talking about for countless years to come, the day a man called Barack Hussein Obama was elected President of the United States of America. For the better part of two years the world has been glued to the political show that America has laid out and it has proved to be unquestionably the most followed presidential election in history. And at the core of the story is the incredible journey of a man who was barely known outside the American political arena just a year ago. <br /><br />Keen political observers would have first noticed him at the 2004 Democratic convention for John Kerry’s failed presidential campaign, where he gave a rousing keynote speech, but to most it was merely an announcement of the arrival on the political scene of a bright young Illinois senator entering his first term. Those who had the foresight to view him as a future presidential candidate had him down for a 2016 campaign, with the baton for the Democratic Party resting firmly in the hands of Hillary Clinton. It is this which probably makes his victory all the more astonishing. The manner in which he prevailed against the dominant Democrat brand for the last sixteen years (Bill and Hillary) in the primaries was quite unbelievable. This was clearly a man walking on a path to his destiny, contrary to the opinions of political experts who largely felt that he was running too soon. It was at the start of the Primary race in January, when he won the Iowa caucuses, that Barack Obama came to international attention, setting him on his way to a drawn out and improbable victory against Clinton.<br /><br />Amongst the biggest challenges of Obama’s presidential campaign lay in fears and misconceptions about his faith (apparently up to ten percent of Americans still believe, incorrectly, that he is Muslim), patriotism and completely unfounded links to terrorism. Pretty early in his campaign he had to respond to questions about his character and beliefs after shocking videos of his former pastor of more than twenty years, Jeremiah Wright, were run by the major television networks and posted all over the internet. This led to his speech - “A more perfect union” - which tackled race relations and politics in America. In truth I consider it unfortunate that Jeremiah Wright’s own legacy was sullied by the video clips, which were largely taken out of context, and subsequent comments he made during Obama’s campaign (He was, after all, a father figure to Obama and the man who led him to Christ, officiated at his wedding, and baptised his children). <br /><br />These are the kind of challenges Obama has had to rise above in a well-run campaign, and in doing so he enabled Americans to rise above their prejudices, to judge the man solely on the content of his character, and not on his race or name. That said, it was little surprise that hardly any mention was made of his middle name by either party once the campaign got into full swing. As a testament to his charisma, and ability to see the funny side of what could easily have been a sensitive issue if handled incorrectly, he even joked at a recent gala dinner that whoever gave him his middle name clearly never thought that he was going to run for president, going on to say that it wasn’t actually what we thought it was – “It’s Steve.” Barack Steve Obama.<br /><br />What we have witnessed has truly been a historic moment but this is even more significant for the American people. Pro-Obama rallies across the nation were unprecedented in their scale and numbers. In the recent past Presidential candidates depended on rock stars or Tinseltown celebrities to draw crowds to their events. Obama himself was the star attraction at his rallies. He was the only draw that he needed. As time went on, the numbers continued to increase, Americans cognizant of the fact that they were about to become part of a great moment in their country’s fabled history, and many who attended did so to be able to say to their kids that they were there. In the same way, many in the UK and around the world did not sleep a wink on election night, if only to witness history in the making. It didn’t take long for those who stayed up all night to watch the drama unfold to realise how much this victory means to the American people, and especially to African-Americans. Many of black and African roots across the globe can admire the man from afar, but seeing the tears of Jesse Jackson, Oprah Winfrey and everyone else in that Chicago crowd really summed up what his victory means to black America. Many were old enough to remember the times when they were segregated and not permitted to vote, as well as the ensuing civil rights movement. They remember the efforts of one preacher from Atlanta who had a dream, who was taken away from this world too soon to see that dream realised. These are things that many of us can only read about, but it is clear to see that America is a step closer to realising Martin Luther King's dream, if it is not there already! <br /><br />In truth, however, the election night proved something of an anti-climax. Ever since the crisis in the financial markets deepened in mid-September Obama moved well ahead in the polls and never looked back. He seemed to handle the situation with far more assurance than his Republican opponent, Senator John McCain, who took the inexplicable step of temporarily suspending his campaign to help deal with the financial crisis (a move which ultimately backfired). Obama also appeared to have a clear advantage over McCain in all three presidential debates, but this alone would not have made the White House a certainty for him. Despite the fact that Alaska governor Sarah Palin gave her party a bounce in the polls when she was named as McCain’s running mate prior to the Republican Convention in August, a series of shocking gaffes in interviews the following month led many Independents and undecided voters to switch allegiance to the Obama/Biden bandwagon. She may have secured the evangelical Christian base for her party, but many argue that her lack of understanding of the important issues (such as foreign policy) and her inability to answer simple questions (such as which newspapers she reads to shape her world view), ultimately lost McCain this race. Even Matt Damon, star of the Bourne action series, was quoted as saying that the possibility of the self-acclaimed “hockey mum” from Alaska becoming President given McCain’s advanced years (he is 72) read like the script of a bad Disney movie! As such one could argue that by election night the result shouldn’t have been in doubt. But there was one nagging doubt lingering in the minds of many – would America really vote for a black man to be their President?<br /><br />In the end, Obama received 364 electoral college votes in a landslide victory, much more than the 270 required to win the election. This was an incredible feat, especially given the fear of the dreaded "Bradley effect" – in which white voters, not wanting to appear racist in polls, claim that they would vote for the black candidate only to go on to do the opposite once they get into the booth. This phenomenon is named after Tom Bradley, a black candidate for the California governorship in 1982 who lost the race despite being well ahead in the polls. This was a victory for all of America and proof that they can rise above the racial divide. With this result they have proved that regardless of race, religion or creed, the country could come together to vote a black man with a funny name into the White House simply because he was the best candidate. In fact, many now argue that Obama benefited from a “reverse-Bradley effect”, where many conservative voters who may have been afraid to say they would eventually cast their votes for him. <br /><br />In his victory speech Obama made it plain that he was never the likeliest of candidates for this office. It has been an incredible feat for him, and how he did it will surely be a case study for political campaigning for years to come! We should spare a thought for John McCain, who was very gracious in his concession speech, and would have made a fine President himself. He clearly loves his country, and having served it for the best part of half a century, would have deserved nothing less than to bow out at the top. But surely this is his last chance to do that, and he can now take a well-earned rest and reflect on his life of service and sacrifice.<br /> <br />Fans of the US television series <em>24</em> will excitedly tell you that the show was prophetic in presenting the idea of an African-American US President (twice), while followers of <em>The West Wing </em>will remind you that the writers of the show consulted David Axelrod (an Obama aide and eventually chief strategist for his campaign) and used Obama as a template for the Hispanic-American character that ran for President in the series long before Obama announced his actual candidacy. Obama then proceeded to run a campaign that had many similarities with the one that was depicted on the show. Talk about art imitating life only for life to imitate art back again! In a twist that would have been daring for any scriptwriter, it remains a shame that Obama’s grandmother, the woman who raised him, passed away the night before the elections and was unable to witness her grandson’s achievement, but it was great to see that he took time from the campaign trail to be with her before she passed. Throughout his campaign he showed himself to be a real family man, one who will present a great example for the First Family of the United States! <br /><br />There is an interesting account in Obama’s book <em>The Audacity of Hope</em>, in which he talks to a media consultant in late September 2001 who tells him the political dynamics in America had changed, with the face of Osama Bin Laden sprawled across the front pages of the newspaper before them. They discuss his political future, given the uncanny similarity between his name and that of the terrorist who still haunts American dreams. Clearly, changing his name would arouse even more suspicion. Either way, things must have looked pretty bleak for him at that point so it must be considered a triumph for the American people that they have been able to look beyond all that to vote for the man who was simply the best candidate. The political dynamics in America and indeed the world certainly have changed forever.<br /><br />All that said, let us join with the people of Chicago, the US, Kenya, and the rest of the world in celebrating the momentous occasion, but let us also temper our excitement with the reality that Obama has a tough task ahead of him. He will not be a perfect president so we must continue to pray for God's will to be done in his life, for his protection, and that of his family (he is set to become the most heavily guarded President in history), and that his presidency indeed makes the US, and the world, a better place for all!MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-70288588527285528412008-11-07T14:07:00.000-08:002008-11-07T14:09:56.191-08:00Lewis Hamilton wins F1 Title!It is a sight that you will rarely see in sport – two opposing teams celebrating victory over each other at the same time. But this is exactly what happened in the exciting climax to the Formula One season last Sunday. In a dramatic final race, McLaren’s British star Lewis Hamilton started seven points ahead of Ferrari’s Felipe Massa, knowing that all he needed to do was finish 5th in the race to win the title, even if Massa won the race. Interestingly this was exactly the same position Hamilton found himself in last year’s final race, where he had the chance to become the first driver in the history of Formula One to win the title in their rookie season. That time, it was Kimi Raikonnen, also of Ferrari, who started that race seven points behind him in the championship race, and that time it was Raikonnen who took the title, one point ahead of both Hamilton and his then McLaren teammate Fernando Alonso. Hamilton was clearly hoping that the similarities between the two season finales would end at the starting grid.<br /><br />Felipe Massa started on pole position in Sao Paulo with the chance to win the championship in his home race, while Hamilton started in fourth on the grid. Massa was to lead from start to finish in a commanding performance, leaving Hamilton to fulfil his side of the bargain. The drama of the day was heightened when a sudden shower of rain delayed the start of the race for ten minutes and forced all the drivers to switch to their wet tyres. But the rain was very brief and this meant that after about nine laps each driver was pitting to switch back to dry tyres. The likes of Toro Rosso’s Sebastien Vettel and Alonso, now back with Renault, pitted earlier to make this switch, catapulting them to 2nd and 3rd positions respectively. Hamilton, on the other hand drove more conservatively. Knowing that he only needed 5th to win the championship, he waited for a couple more laps to change his tyres but then fell to 6th place. From this position he would endure a tense race, but he did seem comfortable as he slowly battled back to fourth place over the course of the 71-lap race.<br /><br />It looked like Hamilton was going to finish in a comfortable 4th place until the rain returned five laps from the end of the race to ensure a nail-biting finale. Neither Massa nor Hamilton could afford to take any chances that this would just be a light drizzle, so they both pitted to change back to wet tyres. However, while Massa maintained his healthy lead in first place, Hamilton emerged from the pit lane in 5th place and with Vettel, breathing down his neck. Toyota’s Timo Glock had gambled and not changed his tyres, jumping ahead of Hamilton into 4th place. His gamble looked to have paid off as the rain refused to fall hard. And in the penultimate lap of the race, the unthinkable happened – the irrepressible Vettel went past Hamilton into 5th place. Hamilton was now in 6th place and was about to lose the championship in the final race – again. He wasn’t fast enough to get back at Vettel and they were both 18 seconds behind Glock going into the final lap. All seemed lost for Hamilton and his fans began contemplating another heartbreaking end to the F1 season. <br /><br />But what happened next will be forever etched into Formula One folklore. When Massa crossed the line he had won the title, for Hamilton was still in 6th position. The Ferarri team burst into scenes of wild celebrations, but barely twenty seconds later, so did McLaren. What Ferrari hadn’t yet realised was that on the penultimate corner of the race, seconds before the final straight, Hamilton went past a slowing Glock, who was now struggling to keep his dry tyres on the track as the rain started to fall more heavily during that final lap. For Massa, it was exhilarating joy, followed by devastating heartbreak all within a matter of moments. For Hamilton, it was a heart-stopping finale, followed by relief and unspeakable ecstasy once it was confirmed to him that he had indeed finished in 5th place and become the youngest ever driver at 23 years and 301 days to claim the F1 Driver’s Championship!<br /><br />Hamilton had already shot to global fame thanks to his image and status as Formula One’s first black driver. However, he believes that his victory, much like Barack Obama’s victory in the US elections two days later, should be an inspiration for people from all walks of life to reach for greater heights, and in his case, get involved in motorsports. With several multi-million pound endorsements under his belt already, he is now tipped to become the sports first billion dollar man, such is the potential of his marketability. But more importantly, the question being asked now of his natural talent is – how good can this guy get? Given his early start in the sport, the question now is whether he can go on to match Michael Schumacher’s seemingly impregnable record of seven titles and 91 wins. Hamilton now has one title and 9 wins. Would you bet against him surpassing that record? Only time will tell, it’s early days yet!MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-67993570198602518562008-10-30T23:05:00.000-07:002008-10-30T23:07:22.478-07:00The Return of the Man of GODHey people! I hope you are having a great week - The weekend is almost here....Happy Friday! Without further ado, I present to you the final chapter in this "Man of GOD" saga! I really do hope you've enjoyed the ride if you've managed to come this far! I certainly have enjoyed writing the story. Perhaps I will pick it up from here in the future! <br /><br /><br />The Return of the Man of GOD<br /><br />1.<br /><br />The days went by, then weeks and months, but no one saw or heard from Johnny. Every night, before she went to bed, Cynthia recounted all the facts in her head. A missing persons report had been filed the day after Johnny had disappeared. Abidel had been charged with kidnapping, though he had not given the police any meaningful leads to Johnny's whereabouts. What was even stranger was that his identity could not be traced. His name drew a blank in all the police searches, he was of no known fixed address, and he certainly wasn't a citizen of the United Kingdom. As far as the authorities could tell, he wasn't a citizen of any country for that matter. According to him, he was the citizen of another world. Another kingdom. According to the police, he must be the member of some kind of crazed deep undercover sect; if they could find this cult then they would apprehend his accomplices and uncover whatever hole they were keeping Johnny, dead or alive. After six months, no one could deny the possibility that Johnny may not be found alive. Under normal circumstances, she would agree with the police's version of the story. But her other-worldly dreams and Abidel's accurate knowledge of them made her doubt common sense. What if he really was from another world? What if Johnny was really there right now, valiantly attempting to bring their baby back? She was deep in these same thoughts she'd had every day since Johnny disappeared when she heard a knock on the door. She looked through the peep hole. It was Detective Carter. <br /><br />"Good afternoon detective," she said as she opened the door. "Please do come in." <br />"Thank you Cynthia. How are you keeping?" <br /><br />"I'm okay, thanks. But obviously my mind will never be at rest until I know what's happened to Johnny. Do you have any new leads yet?" <br /><br />"No, unfortunately we have nothing yet. We have people working round the clock to make sure we find him. We're doing everything we possibly can." <br /><br />"Has Abidel given us anything? Or is he sticking to his original story?" <br /><br />"He's stuck hard and fast to his original story. A real nutcase, that one is!" <br /><br />"I know you're a sceptic, but what if there is some truth to this story of his? After all, in half a year, your best detectives and secret service agents have failed to prove that he is from planet earth!" <br /><br />His lack of objection betrayed the fact that he didn't entirely disagree with her. In fact, if she could read him correctly after six months of knowing him, she could tell that he was holding something back. "What are you not telling me detective?" <br /><br />"I think you need to sit down for this." <br /><br />"Don't tell me to sit down, just tell me what you've got!" <br /><br />"Well, I was going over the autopsy report for your baby." <br /><br />"And?" <br /><br />"As was stated in the coroner's preliminary report, the cause of death was perinatal asphyxia which resulted in cardiac arrest. Unfortunately, the coroner died shortly after and was unable to complete his report, but these documents were recently found in his home." <br /><br />"What do they say?" <br /><br />"It seems that there was a discrepancy with the time of death. According to this, the coroner was investigating the possibility that the baby died sometime before the time of birth, up to seventy-two hours before." <br /><br />"How is that possible? I had a scan the day before the delivery - my baby was alive and healthy!" <br /><br />"There is more. As you can imagine, DNA tests are usually not conducted during autopsies, especially when the course of death is natural as was the case here. I decided to take some DNA from frozen samples from the autopsy to conduct a maternity test. I have conducted the test with three different samples this week, and each time the results were conclusive. There is a ninety-nine point nine percent certainty that you are not the mother of this child!" <br /><br />Cynthia's head spun. She felt dizziness clouding her mind so she sat down to catch her breath. "How could this have happened? How could you let this happen? My baby has been out there somewhere for six months and you let me think he was dead?" <br /><br />"Please understand this, the cause of death is only revealed in about forty percent of autopsied stillbirths. The new coroner who took over the file would have had no reason to keep the file open after the cause of death had been determined! There is no way anyone would have thought to do a maternity test unless they had suspected foul play!" <br /><br />"Or unless they had listened to Abidel!" She got up and grabbed her coat. "I am going to speak to him now to find out everything I can. If you can't do your job right then I will have to find my baby and Johnny myself!" Her words were ignited by the suddenly new possibility that her baby was out there. Alive. Somewhere. But before she could get past Carter to the door, she burst into tears. She grabbed the detective tightly and wept into his chest. <br /><br />"Shh, don't cry," Carter said, trying to console her. "We will find your baby, and we will find Johnny. But there's nothing you can do right now, it's the middle of the night. Get a good night's rest and we'll speak first thing in the morning okay?" <br /><br />After a few minutes, she resigned herself to staying at home, at least for the night, and slumped unto the couch exhausted. <br /><br />"Is there anything I can get you?" Carter asked as he readied to leave. <br />Just then, he got a call and answered his cell phone before Cynthia could respond to his question. He listened to the call attentively and after a few seconds, Cynthia could see his eyes go wide with utter shock and disbelief. "Okay, we will be right there!" Then he hung up. <br /><br />"Quick, put on your coat. We're going down to the station. Now!" <br /><br />"Hold on, I thought you said nothing can be done tonight?" <br /><br />"That's changed. We need to hurry down now. I will explain on the way!" <br /><br />_______________<br />2.<br /><br />Emperor Melek sat in his courtyard playing with his new toy. The gift that Johnny had brought him from the other world. The I-pod. He skipped from one song to another excitedly taking in the deluge of new sounds, beats and percussions emanating from the earphones. This garage music as Johnny had called it was certainly fascinating. The Oracle on the other hand wasn't so impressed. Johnny and Beza had taken the baby he had tried to pass off as the Chosen One to return him to the other world, and for the first time his grand plan slipping away from him. He strode across the room, deep in thought, ignoring the Emperor's playful antics with the I-Pod. <br /><br />"Your Majesty, I do not believe that we should have allowed them to leave with the baby," The Oracle finally said, turning to face the Emperor.<br /><br />"I allowed them to leave. I, not we," the Emperor replied without looking up, too engrossed in uncovering the secrets of the I-Pod. "I believed my wife when she said that baby could not be ours. They shall return him to his world and bring our boy back here."<br /><br />"Why does thy highness believe that they shall return with thy child? What incentive does this Johnny of London have to find the child when he returneth to his own land?". At that question, the Emperor looked up at him and put the I-Pod down. Now that he had the man's attention, the Oracle pressed on, "If thou had kept one of them prisoner, the other would have had to return with the baby! I suggest you go after them and stop them before it's too late!"<br /><br />"You speak with reason, but I don't think that would be necessary. I am sure they shall return with my child..." as he spoke, he noticed the screen of the I-pod flashing with the words BATTERY LOW. Without further warning it went dead, and try as he may, he could not turn it back on.<br /><br />The Oracle realised that his was his moment. "Your Majesty, now thou hast seen with thine own eyes the deception of Johnny of London? How can thy trust him if even his gifts are filled with lies? You must give chase. They are only three days ahead of us. At full stride, we can catch them before they reach the gateway!"<br /><br />After several futile attempts at turning the I-pod back on, The Emperor threw it on the floor in frustration. "Ebed-Melek!" he called for the General of his Royal Guard who was never far away. "Quick, take 100 of the Royal Guard and saddle a horse for me. We set off for the Path of the Oracle immediately!"<br /> <br />Beza and Johnny were near the Oracle's hut when they saw the Royal Guard approaching from the plains of Masai at full gallop in the distance. They hurried into the hut and lay Johnny's baby on the table in the middle of the living area. Beza knelt by the child and said a quick prayer. Beza rose and was leaving the hut to confront to fast approaching men when Johnny grabbed his arm.<br /><br />"I'm not going back to my own world, am I?" Johnny had considered this outcome for a while but had waited until the last possible moment to confirm it.<br /><br />"As you know, for one to be able to cross from one world to the other, another must cross in the opposite direction. Right now, only Abidel awaits to cross from the other side. The Emperor's child died just before crossing over, and too much time has passed since then for it to be part of any exchange now."<br /><br />Johnny had prepared himself for this moment for some time. Given the choice between he or his baby returning to London, there was only one option. The baby would return to Cynthia to restore her joy after being misled to think that her baby died at birth. When they stepped outside the hut, they were face with The Emperor, The Oracle, Ebed-Melek and his Royal Guard.<br /><br />"Where is the child?" The Emperor thundered.<br /><br />"He is in my hut!" The Oracle screamed, "We may be too late. Quick, seize them and kill them!" When the Emperor and his men hesitated, the Oracle hissed and his eyes turned black as the clouds above them went dark. "Then I guess I have to do it myself!"<br /> <br />_______________<br />3.<br /><br />"We're on our way to the prison," Carter told Cynthia as he sped down the highway, "It seems like Abidel has escaped his cell!"<br /><br />"What?! How is that possible? How will I find my baby now?"<br /><br />"From what I've been told, he just disappeared into thin air. There was no sign of a break out and no one heard any noise or commotion. Only the cries of a baby."<br /><br />"The cries of a baby?"<br /><br />"Yes, it appears that a baby was found in his place in the cell this evening. I've been informed that the child is approximately six months of age!"<br /><br />Cynthia's mind spun. What if this was her baby? Could her pain and anguish at having lost her child during labour finally be over? It took two days for the maternity test to come back, and it confirmed that this was indeed her child. She'd missed out on six months of his life, but now she had the rest of his life back, which is more than she had realistically hoped for until Detective Carter got that call. The months and years rolled by and Abidel was never seen again. Johnny was never found either and the official search for him was called off a year after he disappeared. Cynthia thought that whatever world Abidel had returned to, Johnny must be there also. From time to time she wondered if he was happy, and prayed that one day she would see him again, that her child would know his father. And she called the child Johnny, in memory of him.<br /> <br />_______________<br />4.<br /><br />The Oracle's hands rippled with energy. Johnny could see what looked like electricity coursing through the man’s veins and palms, finely poised to discharge bolts of lightning in their direction. "What are we going to do?" he asked Beza, as the Oracle approached them, the winds and rain seemingly at his beck and call now slamming into them.<br /><br />"We're going to stall him. Buy some time, but I don't know how long I can hold him off for!"<br /><br />No sooner had Beza spoken did Abidel come crashing out of the door behind them. With the Oracle bearing down on them, Abidel stepped forward and lifted up his staff. Suddenly, a wall of fire came crashing down from the heavens, separating them from the Oracle, the Emperor and his men. Motioning to Beza and Johnny, Abidel led the way for their escape to Low Earth. The wall of fire followed them every step of the way, burning up everything in its wake including the Oracle's hut. Low Earth would now be there safe haven - having already been banished from High Earth once, there was surely no way back from this.<br /> <br />The Oracle's plan had been thwarted for now, and his hut, the portal to the other world, had been destroyed. However, with the unwitting Emperor's help, he would continue his plans to bring the abomination that would reek utter desolation to the ends of High and Low Earth. Once he used the Emperor and his armies to conquer Low Earth, nothing would stand in the way of his opening a new portal to Earth and taking hold of that world too! And there were only three who could stop him now. Abidel, Beza and Johnny. That Man of God, his clueless assistant and their new apprentice.MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-85156769504353788752008-10-19T15:14:00.001-07:002008-10-19T15:14:43.953-07:00The Emperor and The Man of God1.<br /><br />When Johnny awoke, he looked around and quickly realised that he was no longer in his one bedroom apartment in Finchley. He was lying on what looked like a wooden bed in the middle of a small room. There was a huge fireplace at one end of the room and what looked like a kitchen at the other end. Perhaps the bed was not a bed at all - it could have been an altar of some sort...<br /><br />"Welcome," he heard a voice say from behind him, "how did you sleep?"<br /><br />He spun round and saw a man in a white robe standing behind him. Then it all started coming back to him - this must be Beza, the man who Abidel referred to as his apprentice. He was in this other world that Abidel had called High and Low Earth. Or he could just be having a very vivid dream. <br /><br />"I slept OK. Where am I?"<br /><br />"You're at the Path of the Oracle, the gateway to Low Earth." The man stretched out his hand, "I am Beza. I believe Abidel told you I would be waiting for you?"<br /><br />"Yes, he did," he replied as a look of concern suddenly washed over his face. "This is the same Oracle who Abidel told me has taken Cynthia's baby?"<br /><br />"Yes, the one and the same. This is his hut – we must hurry and leave before we are discovered. Even though he is on his way to High Earth now with the Emperor and the baby, he has eyes and ears about this place who will no doubt inform him of our presence here at the earliest opportunity."<br /><br />"Where are we going?"<br /><br />"We must follow them back to High Earth, to the Emperor's palace, to petition the return of your child!"<br /><br />"What if we don't succeed?" Johnny nervously asked as they discreetly crept away from the Oracle's hut.<br /><br />"We must succeed," Beza replied, "or we may very well be witnessing the abomination that will reek utter desolation to the ends of High and Low Earth!"<br /><br />_______________<br />2.<br />When Beza and Johnny arrived at the gates of the Emperor's Palace, they were taken in chains immediately the guards recognised Beza, the apprentice of the Man of GOD who was banished into the wilderness with his master for making blasphemous comments about the Oracle and doubting the imminence of the Great Prophecy. Even though Abidel was not with him, he was accompanied by a man with very strange clothing. Whatever they were up to, the Emperor would want to know about it immediately. <br /><br />They were brought into the main hall of the palace and presented before the Emperor. There, seated at his right hand as his chief advisor, sat a small man dressed in long, flowing, black robes. He may have been short in stature but had an air of confidence about him; an assuredness that even the Emperor himself could not boast of. Johnny had never met the man before but the moment their eyes met, the man’s eyes opened wide with surprise, his confidence clearly shaken by Johnny's unlikely presence. He knew then that this must be the Oracle that Abidel had spoken of. The man who had stolen his child and given him to the Emperor. Seated on the Emperor's left was his wife Marah, and cradled in her arms, a baby boy quietly asleep. His baby boy. He felt his pulse quicken as he laid eyes on his son for the first time. <br /> <br />"What manner of intrusion is this?" The Emperor's voice echoed loudly in the hall. He was clearly angered by their presence.<br /><br />Beza stepped forward and knelt. "Forgive thy servants your Highness, but it was necessary to bring you an urgent message concerning your child..." He hesitated before continuing, "The chosen one."<br /><br />"Be careful what you say peasant, or I will have your head taken off where you stand! Thou and thy master Abidel persist in spewing this blasphemy, that the child is not the one? Where is Abidel, and who is this fool that has accompanied you here to his death?"<br /><br />"Your highness, this man beside me is living proof that the child which your wife nurses is not of this world." He pointed at the child in Marah's arms. "That baby is an impostor, is not thy child, and is not the chosen one!"<br /><br />An outcry of voices emanated from the crowd present – Chieftains, Elders and Holy Scroll scholars from all over High Earth. "Sacrilege! Blasphemy!" were the cries that began to fill the room. "Kill them now!"<br /><br />The royal guard started to draw their swords but their leader, Ebed-Melek, was already moving across the room towards Beza. His sword stopped at the man's throat, waiting for the slightest order from the Emperor to strike.<br /><br />"Wait! Let the man speak" The Emperor said, raising his left hand. Then he turned to Beza, "Choose thy words carefully and know that they may be thy last breath!"<br /><br />Beza breathed in deeply, Ebed-Melek's blade pressed against his neck. "This man with me is also not of this world. He has come from another world called London. He is also the father of this child!"<br /><br />The ripples of murmuring spread across the room. Beza quickly continued while he had the chance, "Look at his clothes, rough blue trousers and a light red tunic that does not even cover his arms. The likes of which none have ever laid eyes on in High or Low Earth, not until now! And his shoes..."<br /><br />"Lies!!!" The Oracle hissed interrupting Beza mid-sentence. "Your Highness, do not fall for this deception. This man whom thou rightly banished for his blasphemous speech must not be trusted. He is not even a true man of God. He hath no power as he professes to have and I shall prove it!" <br /><br />The Oracle stood up, took his staff and threw it to the floor in front of Beza. The moment the stick touched the ground it turned into a snake, poised for attack and hissing at Beza. Startled, Ebed-Melech took a step back, careful to remain an arm's length from Beza, the venomous snake's supposed target. The sword was no longer at Beza's neck and this was when he decided to act. Flexing his chest and raising his arms he snapped the chains that had tightly fastened him as if they were twigs. When they touched the ground, they turned into three snakes which wasted no time in gobbling up the Oracle's snake. They lifted their heads up, posied for the next attack, seemingly waiting for Beza to give them their next orders. Horrified screams filled the room as people started fleeing. Only the bravest remained, eyes transfixed on the unfolding duel before them. The Oracle took a large rock in his right hand, and flung it at the snakes. When it struck the first one, the rock disintegrated and the snakes spontaneously combusted into flames! The Oracle smiled wickedly, enjoying his momentary victory, however fleeting it may be, as the stench of barbecue snake filled the palace. <br /><br />Beza seemed unconcerned by this, and turned towards the Emperor. "Your highness, we waste time with these petty displays of power. I have come here to expose the truth to thee. We may calleth rain, fire and thunder from the heavens all day and all night to prove whose power really comes from God. Instead, I will let my comrade speak, and if this convinceth thee not, we shall return to the wilderness without the baby. But know that without this child, your child will remain trapped in this other world I speak of."<br /><br />Silence descended upon the room and after a few moments, the Emperor motioned to Johnny to speak. "Sir...your Highness...," Johnny said stepping forward, "I bring thee a gift from my world. It is the power to light fire with your own hands." He brought out a metallic object from his pocket and when he clicked on it, a small flame emanated from his hand.<br /><br />The Oracle laughed mockingly. "How does this tiny flame compare to the display of fire I have just shown you?"<br /><br />"The difference is that anyone can start this fire. The source of its power is not in dispute. It comes from fuel which is inside it. It is called a lighter." Johnny stretched his hand out with the lighter towards the Emperor, at which point Ebed-Melek, who happened to be one of the brave souls who remained, stepped between them to take it from him. He was ready to test it himself and bear the consequences if this was a trap, but the Emperor waved him over and took the lighter from him. After fumbling with it for a few seconds, he lit the flame and stared at it with fascination. <br /><br />The Oracle tried to speak up to interrupt the moment, but the Emperor had turned to Johnny. "Is it possible to make more of these lighters? They would make a fine tool for all our camps and travelling parties."<br /><br />"I suppose it is possible."<br /><br />"Then lighters for all chieftains and generals of the royal guard!" The Emperor said rising up and pumping his fist as he raised his voice excitedly. There was a muted cheer from those that remained, such was their bewilderment at the unexpected turn of events in the Emperor's courtyard. <br /><br />"Come, tell me what else have you brought from this world. London you called it?"<br /><br />"Well, we call our world Earth, but I am indeed from a city called London."<br /><br />"London will do," The Emperor chuckled. "So, Johnny of London, what other gifts have thy brought from thy world?"<br /><br />Johnny reached into his pocket and brought out another rectangular object, this time thin, white and slightly bigger. A white rope with two leads were attached to it. He stuck the two white leads into either ear, and when he pressed the white object, the Emperor and all present could hear an interesting, somewhat melodious noise coming from his ears. No, from the white leads.<br /><br />"What manner of sorcery is this?" the Emperor demanded, though the look on his face wore fascination rather than indignation.<br /><br />"Again, it is not sorcery, it is simply music."<br /><br />"So it is a musical instrument?"<br /><br />"Not exactly. It is a device that plays music, you can download music from the internet and play it on this device."<br /><br />"What is the internet?"<br /><br />"Never mind. Here you can have this one. It's called an I-pod."<br /><br />Again, Ebed-Melek took the device from him and handed it to the Emperor. The Emperor stuck the white leads in his ears and tried without luck to play the music.<br /><br />"You have to press the button in the middle, that's the play button."<br /><br />The Emperor did so, and after about a minute, pulled the leads out and looked up excitedly. "I have never heard music quite like this before. What is it called? Can we also make these I-pods for all the Chieftains and Elders?"<br /><br />"It's called garage music. Unfortunately, it might be a bit more difficult to make more of these than the lighters."<br /><br />"In that case, garbage music for the Emperor and his Court!" The Emperor said, pumping his fist in the air again. "It sounds like dirty music, is it meant to?" The Emperor chuckled. The Oracle looked across and tried to hide his disgust! If this Emperor was his own court jester, he would have beheaded himself a long time ago!<br /><br />"Your Highness, Sir, please let us not forget the matter at hand. If we have been able to convince you, I have come to take my child and return him to my world and his mother."<br /><br />Suddenly, the Emperor's countenance changed. A frown spread across his face, and the Oracle stole his moment while he had it. "Your Highness, thou seest now that they use deception to soften you, lower your guard and steal the baby! Remember I told you it would need my protection from untold evils seeking to end its life! End this dialogue with these snakes while you have the chance!"<br /><br />The Emperor appeared to be ready to have Ebed-Melek and his royal guards take the two men away until Marah, who had not spoken until now, leaned over to him and whispered in his ear, "Melek, my King, I believe this Johnny of London speaketh truth. I have looked upon this child every night since he was given to me, three days after he died, when he was risen again with the Oracle's power, and I have known since then that this is not my child. Let them take him. If our child is out there somewhere, leave them to bring him back. Even if he is not alive, let us find him and give him a burial befitting of royal blood."<br /><br />"What of the Great Prophecy of the chosen one? How can the child not be alive?"<br /><br />"What if Abidel was right? What if this is not the time? Let us leave the matter in God's hands, otherwise I fear that history may record that we took part in a great deception and abomination."<br /><br />Emperor Melek sat back deep in thought. His mind had almost been made up but since he married this young maiden Marah barely a dozen lunar cycles ago, he had always taken her word over all his most trusted advisors, much to their chagrin. Now he would do so once more, much to the Oracle's disgusted annoyance. <br /><br />"Please, Your Highness," Johnny added as softly as he could, "listen to her Highness, a mother would always know. Right now this child's mother is distraught to the point of death in London, at the apparent loss of her baby. I beg you, please put her out of her misery. Let her have her child back."<br /><br />But he didn't need to beg. The Emperor had already decided to let them go with the baby. That night, they stayed in the royal stables with the horses, and at the first rising of the sun, they were given two of the finest of the royal horses, enough supplies to last three lunar cycles, and safe passage to return to the Oracle's hut, which they believed was the gateway to the other world. Marah said her goodbyes to the baby which she had raised as her own for three lunar cycles, kissed his cheek and bade farewell to the two men, begging them to find her own baby and bring him back. The Emperor said nothing as he looked on and saw the two men and the baby disappear into the distance.<br /><br /><br />Does Johnny return to London with he and Cynthia’s baby? Does Abidel escape his jail cell in London and find his way back to High and Low Earth? Find out in the conclusion to this “Man of God” series in ‘The Return of the Man of God!’MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-70897774967149635822008-09-30T16:23:00.001-07:002008-09-30T16:24:32.044-07:00The Detective and The Man of GOD<strong>Recap:</strong> <em>Abidel and Beza, Johnny and Cynthia. A man of God and his apprentice, a praise worship leader and his girlfriend. Two very different worlds collide in one epic story. In a bid to end the famine and drought that plague the Edge of Sara, Abidel and Beza journey from High Earth to Low Earth to see the Oracle. Little do they or the people of High and Low Earth know, the Oracle is not true to their Holy Scrolls. He craves domination of both lands and seeks to open a portal to the other world. The world of Johnny and Cynthia. A place called London. Abidel drinks a potion given to him by the Oracle and he starts dreaming through Cynthia’s eyes, and she through his. The first link with the other world. But this is only the first phase of the Oracle’s plan, of which unwittingly, Johnny and Cynthia are pawns. They sleep together on the first date and Cynthia gets pregnant. With this Abidel and Cynthia’s dreams end and the rains fall on the Edge of Sara once more. The Edgeans rejoice but for Cynthia her world is falling apart at the seams. The Oracle tells the High Earthens of the Prophecy of the Chosen One, and when Emperor Melek journeys to the Oracle’s Path with his expecting wife, everything is in place for the Oracle’s great deception. Their baby dies, but the Oracle swaps babies during Cynthia’s childbirth and she is left to think that her baby is stillborn. Abidel and Beza realise the Oracle’s plan but by the time they get to the Path it is too late – the Oracle has simulated the birth, death and resurrection of their saviour to great effect. Now with the Emperor in the Oracle’s pocket, all of High and Low Earth would worship the Seer as a deity. Abidel must journey to the other world and Johnny must go to High Earth if they are to have any chance of returning Cynthia’s baby to her and stopping the abomination that would reek utter desolation to all of High and Low Earth and beyond!</em><br /><br />First there was the Oracle, then an Old Prophet and then the Prophecy. Now meet the Detective and the Man of God!<br /><br /> _______________<br />1.<br /><br />When Abidel awoke, the first thing he noticed was the lush softness of the bed in which he lay. Johnny's bed. He had not slept on anything so comfortable since before he and Beza were banished from High Earth into the wilderness and even then, he doubted that the royal beddings in the Emperor's palace could match the comfort of the mattress which lay beneath him. He quickly got out of bed and walked into the living room with intent. Though he had not physically been in this apartment, he had appeared to Johnny there in a dream. That made it familiar enough for him to know his way around the place. He was looking for anything that would help him find Cynthia's address. He had to find her and tell her that her baby hadn't really died at birth - he had been taken and replaced by another. He spent thirty minutes rummaging through the living room but found nothing. He did notice a large circular object on one of the side tables. The words "Map Of The World" were inscribed on it and he observed the globe in fascination. Some of the most respected scholars in his world had theorised that their world was perhaps round and not flat, though this had been dismissed by the prevailing school of thought. Perhaps when he returned he would encourage them to reassess their thinking on the matter. If he returned. If Johnny was unable to rescue the child or return himself, then he was stuck in this new world. <br /><br />After a while, he found what looked like a small pouch on the chest of drawers in the bedroom. In it there were coins that looked like they were made of copper and bronze, surely of much less value than the gold and silver coins they used on High Earth. Then there was some paper, perfect rectangular sheets with the picture of a woman with a crown on one side, clearly a Queen. "I promise to pay the bearer on demand the sum of ten pounds," it read. This paper must have some monetary value, he thought. Another interesting concept, which he would no doubt be returning to High Earth with. Assuming he returned. Eventually, he found a card with a picture of Cynthia in this pouch and on it, a line which said "address". Finally, he had found what he was looking for. He locked the apartment behind him with the keys he found on the chest of drawers and went outside to stop one of the black chariots on the street by raising his hands at them, much like he had seen many people of this world do in his dreams. Armed with the coins and paper from Johnny's purse, they should take him anywhere he wanted to go. At least this is what he hoped.<br /><br />_______________<br />2.<br /><br />When Abidel dismounted the black chariot that had taken him to the address on the card with Cynthia's picture on it, he tried to give its rider the copper and bronze coins he had found in Johnny's pouch as a payment for ride, but the man refused. He did however accept merely two of the paper monies from the purse, and even gave him many more coins in return. "Don't you have any notes in your wallet?" The man had asked him, pointing to the pouch. Odd that the paper would be worth much more than the coins, he thought, as he knocked on Cynthia's front door.<br /><br />"Yes, may I help you?" she asked, opening the door slightly as she peered round it.<br /><br />"Well, actually I believe I can help you. Are you Cynthia Robles of Kingdon Street, West Hampstead?"<br /><br />"Yes, this is she."<br /><br />"I don't know how to say this, but I have reason to believe that your baby is alive. There was more than meets the eye to your difficult delivery. If I could come in and explain..."<br /><br />She didn't let him finish. She slammed the door shut, turned both locks, and put the chain over the door. She had suffered a terrible miscarriage only the day before, and was only allowed to leave the hospital this morning only one the condition that her doctor would check up on her round the clock for the next week. Now, a strange man wearing long flowing white robes was at her doorstep, with details of her delivery and claims that the baby hadn't died. As much as she wanted to believe the latter part, she was instinctively wary for her immediate safety. She tried calling Johnny, but his number just rang through.<br /><br />"Johnny sent me to find you," Abidel shouted from outside, as if on cue. "The baby that died isn't yours, he has gone to find your child and bring him back!"<br /><br />After a short pause, she shouted back. "Are you a doctor? Were you at the hospital yesterday?"<br /><br />"No I'm not a doctor, I am a prophet. A man of God. I was not at the hospital but I witnessed your child being taken!"<br /><br />As she thought, the man was a lunatic. Clearly from some sort of cult. She dialled 999. <br /><br />"Good afternoon, please state the nature of your emergency."<br /><br />"I have an intruder who is trying to get into my home. Please get the police over here immediately!"<br /><br />"Okay calm down ma'am. Putting you through to the police now..."<br /><br />When she got through to the police, she gave them her address and stayed on the phone with them, explaining the exact nature of the intrusion, and her fears about the surprising amount of detail this man knew about her circumstances.<br /><br />"Please let me in," the man shouted, "it's imperative that you hear what I have to say!"<br /><br />"You better leave now!" she shouted back. "The police will be here any minute now and then you'll have to answer to them!"<br /><br />"I'm not leaving until you listen to what I'm saying!" He sat down and made himself comfortable on the front porch. <br /><br />No sooner had he sat down did her hear the sound of sirens approaching in the distance. Two of these chariots which he now knew as cars, pulled up in front of the house from different directions and out jumped four men wearing the same uniforms each with some kind of weapon in hand. They began to approach him cautiously. This must be the "police" that she spoke of. Some kind of officers of the law. <br /><br />"Put your hands where we can see them, and don't make any sudden moves!" Their weapons were pointed directly at him. He did as they asked and put his hands above his head. They approached him quickly, grabbed his hands, put them around his back and locked a pair of metal shackles unto his hands so that he could not move them. <br /><br />As they led him away, he shouted back towards the house, "You've got to listen to me Cynthia! I know about your dreams, because you dreamt them through my eyes! Johnny is with Beza at this very moment, journeying to High Earth to rescue your child!"<br /><br />Cynthia opened the front door and stared at the man as the police bundled him into their vehicle, transfixed by the words he had just spoken. Her dreams, the name Beza, another world. Cult or no cult, he was frighteningly accurate about these visions she'd had, just over nine months ago now. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least, now that this strange man was in custody, she was safe, and all her questions about his peculiar appearance at her doorstep would be answered.<br /><br />_______________<br />3.<br />Abidel was taken into a dark room and left seated alone at a desk. There was an empty chair opposite him and a lamp on the desk that only slightly illuminated the room. The room had three walls painted grey, and a fourth wall made of glass. Thick black glass through which he could see nothing. After a few minutes, the door opened again and a tall man wearing a dark brown coat walked in. The man walked towards him slapped some papers unto the table. He placed another object on the table, rectangular in shape and pressed a button on it. <br /><br />"My name is Detective Carter," the man said as he sat down, "Please could you state your name and where you are from for the record."<br /><br />"My name is Abidel. I am from the Edge of Sara, the town at the end of High Earth."<br /><br />"Abidel what? What's your surname? Your family name?"<br /><br />"I have no other name. I am Abidel of High Earth, servant of the Most High. Abidel will suffice."<br /><br />"Yes Cynthia mentioned that you said you were a Preacher. ‘Man of God’ I think were your words. Is that how you knew about her miscarriage? You saw it divinely?" His voice smacked of sarcasm.<br /><br />"In a manner of speaking, yes. I saw it happen, but from my world. Cynthia's baby did not die; it was replaced by a baby that died in my world."<br /><br />"You've got to be kidding me," Carter remarked. Amused, he stood up and walked towards the glass wall. "Can you believe this guy's story? That he's from some other world and that is how he got the info that he had?" For some odd reason unbeknownst to Abidel, the man was talking to the glass wall. <br /><br />Suddenly, Carter's countenance changed from one of amusement to one of seriousness. "Listen," he said spinning around and turning to Abidel, "you need to start talking because you're about to get into serious trouble if you don't. Trespassing and harassment are the least of your worries at the moment. Johnny's wallet was found on your person, and he hasn't been seen since yesterday. We've done a sweep of his house and there's no trace of him. No one has heard from him today, so considering that you had his wallet, you're the only person who we know has been in contact with him since yesterday or knows his whereabouts. A missing persons report cannot be filed until 24 hours after they were last seen, so I warn you, if he doesn't show up before that time has elapsed, you will be charged with kidnapping in addition to the other crimes already mentioned!"<br /><br />"No one seems to be listening to me! I do know where Johnny is. He is on his way to High Earth now to rescue the child from the Oracle!"<br /><br />Carter paused for a moment and gave him a long hard stare. "Okay, let's try this one more time. Who are you and where are you from?"<br /><br />This time Abidel was quiet and gave no answer.<br />"Do you now refuse to speak? Now you listen to me, don't you realise that I have the power to keep you here or let you go? But you need to co-operate if this is going to end well."<br /><br />"You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above. As I told you, I am not of this world. If I was, you would not be able to arrest me or keep me here."<br /><br />"Would you look at that!" Carter smirked, "now he thinks he is some kind of modern day Jesus Christ!" He was talking to the glass wall again. He turned back to Abidel one last time. "I'm going to leave you here to think about your situation for a while. When I come back I want answers. Real answers!" His voiced echoed as he turned to leave the room and slammed the door behind him. <br /><br />Abidel was once again left in darkness and quiet solitude. A darkness only slightly illuminated by the small lamp which sat on the table before him.MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-71678573768301401942008-09-18T15:05:00.000-07:002008-09-18T15:10:57.405-07:00The Prophecy and the MOG - Alternate Ending!!!Hey people! I bring you the alternate ending for the Prophecy and the MOG! In actual fact, this was the original ending for the story, except that it's not actually the ending, it is more like the middle! (It was changed and ended early for publication in Outflow as a trilogy!). Call this alternate ending an interlude if you will, it is simply the prelude to another trilogy of stories for this series! Stay tuned for much much more!<br /><br />Did you ever wonder what might have happened if the Oracle had succeeded in his plan to swap the babies between the two worlds? Did you ever wonder how his plans to rule over High and Low Earth could possibly be thwarted once he had completed this deception? Did you ever wonder how a rescue attempt could be launched for Cynthia's baby if she truly did (and unwittingly too) lose it to another world?<br /><br />All and more will be revealed soon...read on and enjoy!!!<br /><br /><strong>The Prophecy and The Man of GOD<br />The Alternate Ending!!!</strong><br /><br />5.<br /><br />Abidel and Beza rode their horses through the plains of the Masai as quickly as they could. They had to reach the Path before it was too late. After a period of forty days and nights in the wilderness dedicated to fasting and prayer, the Oracle's plan had been divinely revealed to Abidel. The Oracle planned to simulate the birth, death and resurrection of the Chosen One in one fell swoop. By stealing a baby from the other world called Earth, he would deceive the people of High and Low Earth to worship him as a deity and thus cause the abomination that would reek utter desolation to the ends of this world, and beyond. If Abidel was right, they only had three days to stop him! <br /><br />On the third day, the Emperor and his men went to the Oracle's hut to take the baby's body and begin the long procession back home. The Oracle met them at the door, stopping them in their tracks. "Have thou forgotten the Prophecy of the Holy Temple, that it shall be destroyed and built again in three days?" <br /><br />Ebed-Melek, the head of the Royal Guard and the Emperor's right hand man stepped forward. "Of what consequence is the Holy Temple to the Great Prophecy? Hath thou not proved thyself a false prophet already? I should run my sword through you right now!" <br /><br />"O thee of little understanding," the Oracle cried as he lifted his hands to the sky and the clouds began to darken and gather above them. "Now thou shalt understand the meaning of the prophecies and see the very power I have to give life!" The Oracle's eyes turned a pupil-less black as lightning flashed across the skies above and a storm engulfed them. The Emperor and his men began to run for cover but the Oracle simply smiled and lowered his hands as if to tell the storm to calm. As suddenly as the heavens had opened above them did the storm suddenly subside. As the clouds began to move away and the skies began to clear, a cry could be heard from inside the Oracle's hut. The cry of a baby! <br /><br /><em><strong>(This is where it all changes!!!)</strong></em><br /><br />The servant of the Oracle ran into the hut, and moments later, came out carrying the baby, alive and kicking! "Look! The child has risen from the beyond!"<br /><br />There was a riotous cheer from the Emperor and his men. They now understood the meaning of the prophecies - the child was indeed the Chosen One, the Holy Temple that was destroyed and rebuilt in three days! And they had the Oracle to thank for opening their eyes and making all of this possible! Right there, at the Path of the Oracle, they all bowed down and worshipped him. Following this, Emperor Melek asked the Oracle to return to with them to his palace in High Earth to become his personal spiritual advisor. The Oracle accepted the offer with glee. The first phase of his plan had worked like a charm.<br /><br /><br />_______________<br />6.<br /><br />As Abidel and Beza arrived at approached the Path of the Oracle from the plains of the Masai, they could see a long procession readying themselves for the journey back to High Earth. Abidel saw that these people were joyous in song and in the highest of spirits, and it was then that he knew they were too late! From what he could make out, The Emperor rode on the Royal Chariot near the back of the procession, surrounded by the finest warriors of the Royal Guard. And from what he could see, his wife Marah stood by his side cuddling a healthy bouncing baby boy. The boy from the other world, stolen from his real mother who during childbirth unwittingly received, in exchange for her dead baby, the Emperor's baby who had died three days previously. All this to fulfil the Oracle's selfish desires, not the prophecies that he had claimed were being fulfilled. Abidel shook his head in disgust. Righting this wrong and convincing the people of High Earth that they haven't been deceived was not going to be easy.<br /><br />"What do we do now?" Beza asked despondently, as they peered at the leaving procession from the cool shade of the trees that concealed their presence at the scene. <br /><br />"We wait."<br /><br />"We wait? Wait for them to leave? What good can we do here once they tak the baby and return to High Earth?"<br /><br />"The only good we can do is here. We cannot follow them back to High Earth to take the baby. Even without our banishment, that would be impossible. But now, if we are so much as sighted a rising and falling from High Earth they would take us in chains immediately!"<br /><br />"So what good can we do here?"<br /><br />"I have a plan. I believe that the Oracle's hut is the portal to the other world, the place called London. It is the place I saw when I dreamt through the eyes of the woman called Cynthia. Do you remember?"<br /><br />"Of course I remember, thy dreams began the next rising of the sun after our first visit to the Oracle!"<br /><br />"Well, I believe that she is the real mother of this baby trapped in our world. The Oracle found a way to bring him here, and I believe that one can travel there in the same way. It may be our only chance of rescuing her baby and saving this world from the Oracle!"<br /><br />Beza was caught totally off guard by the revelation. "How is this possible? And even if it is, how will this save High Earth from the great deception that has befallen them?"<br /><br />"We shall know by the rising of the sun if my plan will work. And if it does, here is what we shall do..."<br /><br />Beza listened intently and his eyes went wide with amazement as Abidel explained this plan in intricate detail. Only a man of faith could believe that such an audacious and bold plan could possibly work. And Abidel was a man of great faith.<br /><br />_______________<br />7.<br /><br />When Johnny woke up in his living room in the middle of the night, he had barely slept a wink. Earlier that day Cynthia has lost their baby during childbirth so understandably he was too distraught to sleep. He got up to fix himself a drink but stopped dead in his tracks before he could get to the kitchen. Right in front of him, where his own kitchen should have been, he saw a charcoal scarred fireplace with a large obtuse black pot sitting underneath it. While he was still trying to make sense of this anomaly, a slim tall man wearing flowing white robes and brown sandals stepped into his line of sight from the corner of this strangely transformed kitchen and stood in front of the fireplace. <br /><br />Startled, Johnny took a step back, and then the man spoke. "Don't be afraid. My name is Abidel, servant of the Most High. I am from the Edge of Sara, and I'm here to help you."<br /><br />"Help me with what? What are you doing in my house? What on earth is the Edge of Sara?"<br /><br />"Well that's exactly it - It's no place you know of on this earth. In my world, it is the town at the end of High Earth. I am the man of God that Cynthia spoke of from her dreams."<br /><br />Johnny was taken aback at the mention of Cynthia’s other-wordly dreams. They had abruptly ended at the start of her pregnancy, and they now seemed like distant memories. "How do you know about her dreams?"<br /><br />"Because she was seeing my world through my eyes, and I was seeing your world through hers."<br /><br />Johnny paused, at a real loss as to how to respond. He was still trying to digest everything this man was telling him. He was sure that any minute now he was going to wake up and have a very interesting dream to talk about.<br /><br />Abidel continued. "Your baby isn't dead. He was taken by a man called the Oracle and replaced with a baby from my world. I bore witness to this act some distance from where this deception took place, but unfortunately I could not arrive there in time to stop the Oracle."<br /><br />"What are you talking about? Even if such a thing possible, why should I believe you?"<br /><br />"The Oracle found a way to link our worlds and stole your baby to simulate the birth, death and resurrection of the Chosen One spoken of in the Holy Scrolls. You must be familiar with the prophecy? I gather that this has already happened in your world, long ago?"<br /><br />"You mean Jesus Christ? Yes, but I don't know of any Holy Scrolls."<br /><br />"I think you call them the Bible. Well, the ones that we have are part of what you call the Old Testament."<br /><br />"How do you know all this?"<br /><br />"Some things can only come by intense fasting and prayer. I have been in the wilderness forty days and nights. There I discovered what was necessary to appear to you now. Listen, we don't have much time, so I will have to explain to you fully later. Right now, you're the only one who can return your son to your world."<br /><br />Johnny was having a hard time believing anything this strange man said, but he decided it might be easier to humour him and play along. After all, this was just a dream and he’d be awake any minute now. "How will I be able to do this?"<br /><br />"You will cross over to High and Low Earth to convince the Emperor to return the child to you. My apprentice Beza will be there to help you every step of the way."<br /><br />"And where will you be?"<br /><br />"I'll be here, in your world. It seems that the only way for one to cross over is for someone else to move in the opposite direction. It was how the Oracle took your baby. I will remain here until you return with the baby, it's the only way!"<br /><br />"Okay...," Johnny hesitated as he looked across the kitchen. It certainly seemed it was from another world. "So how do we do this? Do we just walk across at the same time?"<br /><br />"No. This is just a dream, but the next time you sleep you will wake up in my world. Beza will be there waiting.”<br /><br />“I didn’t need you to tell me that this is a dream! That much is already clear to me! The next time I sleep I won’t be waking up anywhere else but my bed!”<br /><br />Abidel smiled sheepishly. “Don’t worry. In time, you will believe. You should have faith that your baby is still alive. And you will.”<br /><br />“Perhaps,” Johnny paused, “hopefully I will wake up and find that Cynthia’s miscarriage was all just a bad nightmare?”<br /><br />“Perhaps,” Abidel responded knowingly. “There is one more thing,” he said as he turned to leave.<br /><br />"What's that?"<br /><br />"Make sure you hold on to one or two things from this world. You will need them to convince the Emperor that you are indeed not of High or Low Earth!"<br /><br /><br /><br />Find out what happens next week, in "The Detective and The Man of GOD"MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-65730709469306934842008-09-09T12:11:00.000-07:002008-09-09T12:15:40.827-07:00The Prophecy and The Man of GOD<em>‘A child shall be born, the son of a King and a young maiden, and he shall rescue all of High and Low Earth from their tribulations. I, the Oracle who watches over all the Earth, must bless the child, for untold evils seek to end its life before it begins. I tell thee truth, the expecting mother must make the journey from High Earth and the child must be born here to ensure its protection and the fulfilment of the prophecies.' </em><br /><br />_______________ <br />1.<br /><br />The Oracle paced back and forth in his hut with intent. Even a man of his short, thin frame didn't need many paces to cross from one end of his humble abode to the other. But not for long, he thought. He would very soon trade this meagre hamlet for the most royal of palaces on High Earth. If only the High Earthens knew what deception he planned to feed them. He would give them their Great Prophecy and in doing so finally get all that he had craved so long for – more power, dominion over High and Low Earth, and ultimately a gateway to the other world. A world where his powers could far surpass anything these puny, primitive people of High and Low Earth could even dream of or imagine. <br /><br />His plan was already well in motion. Abidel, servant of the Most High, had already returned to the Edge, the town that linked High Earth to the deserts of Sara. He had returned with the prophecy as told to him by the Oracle. Messengers were immediately sent to the Emperor Melek's palace with the news that the time for the Great Prophecy was nigh. The fact that the Oracle had subtly implied that the child would come from High Earth was not lost on Abidel. Even though he thought it strange that the Oracle had included such specifics that weren't in the original prophecy, it did help them narrow down the search. Despite his concerns about the accuracy of the Seer's claims, he’d felt obliged to deliver the message. After all, the Oracle had correctly predicted the end of the drought that had plagued the Edge. <br /><br />Alas, of all the Lords and Chieftains of High Earth whom the prophecy might have been speaking of, it was the Emperor himself who had taken a young maiden, Marah, as his wife only two lunar cycles ago. She was immediately summoned and once the medicine men verified that she was indeed with child, all the Emperor's advisors and scholars of the Holy Scrolls agreed that this must be the child spoken of in the Great Prophecy. Immediately, the Emperor and his wife began making preparations in earnest for the journey to see the Oracle. As Abidel had feared, suggesting that the Oracle's claims were untrue caused an uproar in the Palace. The Elders of the Emperor's council accused him and Beza, his right-hand man, of blasphemy and banished them to the desert of Sara to live out their days. They had only been spared the death penalty because of Abidel's popularity as a man of God who had performed many great wonders on High Earth. Still, this was more than the Oracle had hoped for. His plan was unravelling nicely. <br /><br />_______________ <br />2.<br /><br /><br />The course of Cynthia's life changed forever when she discovered she was pregnant with Johnny's child. They had only started dating when the unthinkable happened, and months later she was still reeling from the consequences of what they had done. She had once been the talk of her church as the most elegant, most God-fearing woman who had graduated with a 1st class and owned her own studio flat. Now she was the talk of the church for very different reasons. The youth she had once taught secretly sniggered at her whenever she walked past them, and many of her peers whom she had considered friends seemed to be making less than subtle efforts to distance themselves from her. Things were not much easier for Johnny, she thought. His family had given him a very hard time since the news broke, particularly because it was unclear how he intended to financially support the child. Even his parents had resented the fact that he had turned down a lucrative R'n'B career to lead praise and worship in the church, and now they were pillorying him for what they had considered a stupid decision on his part. Cynthia was startled back to reality by a knock on the window. It was Johnny. She'd been sitting in her car daydreaming about what might have been. They had come to church for the parenting class they had agreed to attend together. They stepped into the class which had already started and couldn't help but note the disapproving looks from the other parents-to-be at their lateness, or perhaps at their presence altogether. <br /><br />"Everyone's staring at us," Cynthia whispered to Johnny as they took their seats. <br /><br />"Don't worry. This is for the best, remember?" <br /><br />"I suppose so. But it's very awkward, how long do we have to bear this for?" <br /><br />"Not for long I'm sure, they're just not used to an unmarried couple taking the class. Give them time." He was right, never in the history of their church had an unmarried couple taken this class, and it was certainly ruffling a few feathers. But they both knew that their Pastor had advised them wisely. There was no point compounding one mistake with another that would last a lifetime. They would resist the pressures to get married just because they were having a baby. They only would if they were sure it was God's will. Right now, they were simply focusing on how each of them could be better parents when the baby arrived. <br /><br />After a few moments she firmly grabbed his hand, and somewhat startled, he returned the squeeze reassuringly. "Don't worry, the baby will soon be here, then we can focus on doing this for real." <br /><br />"It's not that," she responded in a panic, "I think my water just broke!" <br /><br />_______________ <br />3.<br /><br /><br />After the journey from High Earth that took three lunar cycles, The Emperor and his men where nearing the Path of the Oracle when Marah went into labour. They rode at full gallop to meet the Oracle, who was waiting with his assistant to usher the expectant mother into his hut. No one else was allowed to enter during the delivery so the Emperor and his men waited outside pensively, but patiently. A look of anxiety swept across the Emperor's face as Marah's screams only seemed to intensify after she was taken in. Her wailing persisted for another thirty minutes and then suddenly stopped. Ten minutes later, the Oracle's assistant stepped out of the hamlet, holding a blanket with the baby wrapped in it. The Emperor stepped forward to receive the baby but his initial excitement evaporated when he saw the despondent look on look on the servants face. <br /><br />"Your Highness, cursed am I to bringeth thee this terrible news - the child hath not survived the delivery." <br /><br />The Emperor's face twisted in anguish as he fell to the ground. He let out a wail that could surely be heard for miles beyond the Path of the Oracle. His Royal Guards rushed to pick him from the ground as he wept bitterly. After a long time, the Emperor finally composed himself, dusted himself down and once again looked the epitome of dignity and nobility. He turned to Ebed-Melek, the General of his Royal Guard. "Set up camp to the west of the Path and we return at first light!" <br /> <br />At this point, the Oracle stepped out of his hut and all eyes fell on him. The Emperor walked straight up to him looked him in the eyes. "Is this thy blessing and protection of the Great Prophecy? It may be better if thou leavest this place. If thou art still here by the rising of the sun, I may return to High Earth with thy head on a platter!" <br /><br />The Oracle didn't bat an eyelid. He returned the Emperor's stare and responded with an air of confidence that surprised even the Emperor. "At least, thou must remain here three risings and fallings, in accordance with thy customs, to pay respects for the dead. Thou knowest not what wonder thy God might perform if thou abideth in obedience." <br /><br />Hence, Emperor Melek, his wife Marah and his men remained at the Path of the Oracle three days in observance of the time of mourning before making the return journey to High Earth. <br /><br />_______________ <br />4.<br /><br /><br />Cynthia was hauled onto the stretcher when they got to the hospital and Johnny ran along beside her, encouraging her as much as he could. She was pushed straight into the delivery room but Johnny waited outside - they had agreed that this was as far as he would come. Inside the room, the delivery was anything but straightforward. Cynthia had never experienced so much pain in her life. She had a migraine that was so severe that she started suffering hallucinations. She saw flashes of a thunderstorm, lightning and torrential rain. These were very much like her other worldly dreams she'd had just before she got pregnant, but even more intense. One minute, she was lying on the delivery room bed, and the next minute she was in a tropical monsoon, and so the flashes continued. The only constant between the two switching scenarios was the piercing screams, which the midwife no doubt attributed to the normal pangs of childbirth. If this is what childbirth feels like, I might as well die now! Cynthia thought. Then suddenly, the storm calmed and subsided. After two hours of intense pushing and gut wrenching screams, the baby eventually came. But it wasn't crying. It didn't make a sound. <br /><br />After cutting the umbilical cord, the midwife checked the baby's airways. After clearing the airways, there was still no breathing. She turned to the second nurse present, "Turn on the gas supply, and pass me the mask. And get Doctor Patel in here!" <br /><br />"Is my baby okay?" Cynthia asked looking at midwife who strapped the mask across the baby's nose and mouth and started pumping oxygen into the boy's airways. <br /><br />Doctor Patel came in and took over the ventilation process from the midwife. After a few minutes, he moved on to chest compression techniques but there didn’t seem to be any improvement in the baby’s condition. <br /><br />"Shall we try to administer drugs via an umbilical venous line?" the midwife asked. She knew this was a last resort procedure. <br /><br />"I'm afraid there's no point in giving him drugs if he isn't breathing adequately!" the doctor responded. <br /><br />A few minutes later, the Doctor came out of the delivery room to give Johnny the bad news. "I'm sorry, the baby was stillborn. There was nothing we could do for him." <br /><br />Johnny slumped to the floor distraught as he felt his world crumble around him. And then everything went black. <br /><br />_______________ <br />5.<br /><br /><br />Abidel and Beza rode their horses through the plains of the Masai as quickly as they could. They had to reach the Path before it was too late. After a period of forty days and nights in the wilderness dedicated to fasting and prayer, the Oracle's plan had been divinely revealed to Abidel. The Oracle planned to simulate the birth, death and resurrection of the Chosen One in one fell swoop. By stealing a baby from the other world called Earth, he would deceive the people of High and Low Earth to worship him as a deity and thus cause the abomination that would reek utter desolation to the ends of this world, and beyond. If Abidel was right, they only had three days to stop him! <br /><br />On the third day, the Emperor and his men went to the Oracle's hut to take the baby's body and begin the long procession back home. The Oracle met them at the door, stopping them in their tracks. "Have thou forgotten the Prophecy of the Holy Temple, that it shall be destroyed and built again in three days?" <br /><br />Ebed-Melek, the head of the Royal Guard and the Emperor's right hand man stepped forward. "Of what consequence is the Holy Temple to the Great Prophecy? Hath thou not proved thyself a false prophet already? I should run my sword through you right now!" <br /><br />"O thee of little understanding," the Oracle cried as he lifted his hands to the sky and the clouds began to darken and gather above them. "Now thou shalt understand the meaning of the prophecies and see the very power I have to give life!" The Oracle's eyes turned a pupil-less black as lightning flashed across the skies above and a storm engulfed them. The Emperor and his men began to run for cover but the Oracle simply smiled and lowered his hands as if to tell the storm to calm. As suddenly as the heavens had opened above them did the storm suddenly subside. As the clouds began to move away and the skies began to clear, a cry could be heard from inside the Oracle's hut. The cry of a baby! <br /><br />All of a sudden, another cry could be heard emanating from the Masai plains. A battle cry. Abidel and Beza appeared in the distance at full gallop. As they approached the Path, Abidel raised up his staff, and the clouds darkened again. Lightning rippled through the sky and the sound of thunder deafened the ears of all present. The Oracle's assistant rushed to enter the hut and retrieve the baby, but before he could reach the door, a bolt of lightning struck the hut with such force that he was thrown into the air and landed several metres away, body completely fried! Abidel and Beza did not wait to survey the damage they had caused. They rode on to Low Earth, with the Royal Guard led by Ebed-Melek hot on their heels. The Emperor rushed into the Oracle's hut which was now only half standing. His child lay on the altar inside, miraculously without a single scratch on his body. But to his dismay, the baby was not alive. He threw his cloak over the child and wept bitterly. <br /><br />_______________ <br />6.<br /><br />The nurse was about to call the time of death for Cynthia's baby when he suddenly coughed and burst into life, breathing his first breath of fresh air since being delivered, at least in this world. She ran out and met Doctor Patel in the hallway, who had just delivered news that had floored Johnny. She ran towards them screaming "The baby is alive! The baby is alive!" The child's recovery from certain death had been miraculous. Later, tests showed that his heart had been jolted back to life by a charge similar to that from an electrical defibrillation unit, even though no such procedure had been administered. After spending two days on life support and another week in intensive care, the child lived to make a full recovery. <br /><br />_______________ <br />7.<br /><br />The Oracle's plan had been thwarted for now, and his hut, the portal to the other world, had been destroyed. However, with the help of an unwitting Emperor now seeking revenge against Abidel for the loss of his child, he would continue his plans to deceive and reek utter desolation to the ends of High and Low Earth. Once he used the Emperor’s armies to conquer Low Earth, nothing would stand in the way of his opening a new portal to Earth and taking hold of that world too! And there were only two that could stop him now. Abidel and Beza. That Man of God and his apprentice.MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-19197007661234645272008-08-08T17:41:00.000-07:002008-08-08T17:43:53.894-07:00The Old Prophet and the Man of GOD1 <br /> <br /><br />Cynthia had just started dating Johnny when she started having the nightmares. These were like no dreams she had ever had before. At times she would wake up with a parched, dry throat, and the feeling that she had been spent the night out in the scorching sun. At other times, she awoke even more tired than she had gone to bed, with the distinct impression that she had spent the night walking through thick dense marsh lands. The green, humid stench of these swamps filled her nostrils as she climbed out of bed to get ready for work and she couldn't help wonder how it was possible for dreams to feel so real. Johnny appeared considerate and caring when she mentioned these dreams to him, but did not seem to take her too seriously when she when she started talking some nonsense about an old prophet and a man of God. He was just happy to have finally snagged the girl of his dreams – he didn't need her getting all spooky on him. Not that he considered all things of a spiritual nature spooky, after all God had told him that she was his wife. This was how he had convinced her to go out with him. Now it seemed that Cynthia was falling head over heels for him and he was quite excited about this. But something was still gnawed at his mind, bothering him like the constant dripping of a tap. Was this really God's will, or was it just his own will? Had he wanted to be with her so desperately that it blurred the lines between his own desire and what God was really saying? If he lacked any conviction about the relationship, he certainly did not show it. As he picked Cynthia up for their first dinner date, he put all doubts to the back of his mind, at least for the rest the evening. Everything had to be perfect. <br /> <br /><br />----------------------------- <br />2<br /><br /> <br /><br />Abidel and Beza had spent one lunar cycle travelling through the plains of the Masai and into the desert of Sara before they decided to turn back to see the Oracle at the Path leading to Low Earth for a third time. Abidel, servant of the Most High, from the town at the Edge of Sara and High Earth, was no closer to seeing the end of the drought and famine that plagued the Edge. Normally, such a thing would be trivial to a man as annointed as him. He had been known to end many a drought in High Earth with a simple wave of his staff to the sky to open up the floodgates of heaven. But this time was very different. His lack of foresight in this matter had worried the Chieftains of the Edge so much that they had sent him to see the Oracle. Three lunar cycles and two visits to the Oracle later, he was no closer to knowing the end of the drought and famine, but instead had started seeing visions of a strange world. A place where no horses or camels were needed to pull chariots they called cars. A place where men and women packed, like Low Earthen slaves being herded to High Earth, into long carriages that moved beneath the earth. A place called London. Abidel was certain that the Oracle had caused the dreams, and so they returned to him for the third time, determined to understand the meaning of these visions. <br /> <br />'Why dost thou trouble me yet again, Prophet from beyond the Sara?' The Oracle's voice bellowed from the corner in which he sat meditating when Abidel and Beza walked into his hut. He hadn't even turned from the wall he faced to acknowledge them as they entered his humble abode. And they could sense the growing impatience in his voice. <br /> <br />'If I may so humbly address thee, O Great Oracle, thy servants have returned to seek thy wise counsel concerning the dreams that plague my sleep. Visions of another world. They have become even more vivid since our last visitation.' <br /> <br />'Did I not tell thee that thou shalt see like thou hast not seen before?' <br /> <br />'Thou speakest the truth, Great Seer, but of what consequence are my dreams to the Chieftains of the Edge who have sent me? They seekest the knowledge of the plague's end, or indeed the very power to part the clouds and turn the arid lands green again.' <br /> <br />The Oracle sighed as he stood to his feet and faced them. 'O ye of little understanding, how long must I contend with thee? I tell thee the truth, thy dreams shall cease before thou hast returned to the Edge, the rains shall return to Sara before thou hast completed thy journey.' <br /> <br />'Dost thou sayest that the rains shall commence when my dreams end?' <br /> <br />'Indeed they shall, but the famine will linger nine lunar cycles before the land is made whole again. At this time, a child shall be born, the son of a King and a young maiden, and he shall rescue all of High and Low Earth from their tribulations.' <br /> <br />'The child spoken of in the Holy Scrolls of the Prophets?' Beza blurted out excitedly, before recoiling once he remembered that as Abidel's right-hand man he was not meant to speak while the man of God sought counsel with the Oracle. <br /> <br />The Oracle kissed his teeth at Beza's petulance and turned to Abidel once more. 'Indeed, the prophecy spoken of in the Holy Scrolls shall surely come to pass, but not without my blessing. I, the Oracle who watches over all the Earth, must bless the child, for untold evils seek to end its life before it begins. I tell thee truth, the expecting mother must make the journey here from High Earth and the child must be born here to ensure its protection and the fulfilment of the prophecies.' <br /> <br /><br />----------------------------- <br />3<br /><br /> <br /><br />Johnny took Cynthia to a lavish restaurant overlooking the Thames, and they shared a romantic evening together. It was the best date that Cynthia could remember for a long time - she was already imagining walking down the aisle in the stunning dress she had already picked out, the lovely three bedroom house with the white picket fence, and two wonderful kids, Junior and Jacinta. But this was when things started going horribly wrong. A brilliant evening would have ended perfectly if Johnny had taken her to her doorstep like every gentleman should. Instead, insisting that the night was young, he convinced her to go back to his place to 'hang out'. The alarm bells went off in her head at the suggestion, but she threw caution to the wind. They were having such a lovely evening and she didnt want it to end so soon, so ignoring the check in her spirit, she wilfully obliged. A late night curled in front of the telly and a couple of harmless bottles of wine later, left the outcome inevitable....when Johnny woke up, head throbbing, he caught the image of Cynthia hurriedly packing her things together to leave as the dizziness in his eyes cleared. He tried to stop her as she walked out the front door but there was already a taxi waiting for her. He glanced at his watch. 8.30am. It was Sunday morning! He had to be at church by 9am to lead praise and worship! He hurried back inside, had a quick shower, threw on the best looking clothes he could find and headed straight to church. He was inevitably distracted as he stood on stage singing praises to God, though he tried not to let it show. He surveyed the packed auditorium from his vantage point and saw no sign of Cynthia. As the choir took their seats and the Pastor took to the pulpit to deliver his message, his troubled mind was elsewhere. He was so wracked with guilt about the previous night that he just wanted to find Cynthia and beg for her forgiveness. <br /> <br />'The title of my message today is the Old prophet and the man of God' <br /> <br />The words stopped Johnny's wandering mind dead in its tracks. He immediately remembered the words from Cynthia's dreams that he had so easily dismissed. <br /> <br />'Our Bible reading today is taken from the book of First Kings, chapter thirteen. I'll read from verse eleven. Now there was a certain old prophet living in Bethel...' <br /> <br />Now Johnny was acutely attentive. <br /> <br />'The man of God said, 'I have been told by the word of the Lord: You must not eat bread or drink water here or return by the way you came'. The old prophet answered, ‘I too am a prophet, as you are. And an angel said to me by the word of the LORD: Bring him back with you to your house so that he may eat bread and drink water.’ (But he was lying to him) So the man of God returned with him and ate and drank in his house.' <br /> <br />Remorse filled his heart as the reading finished and the revelation of the message sunk in. He was the old prophet, Cynthia was the man of God. He had deceived her into thinking that God had said something He really hadn't said, and now they would both face the consequences for their actions. <br /> <br />'The irony was that when God really spoke through the old prophet,' the Pastor's voice bellowed from the pulpit, 'it was to pronounce judgement for the man of God's disobedience. And truly the old prophet's words came to pass - the man of God never made it home as he was mauled by a lion on the way back!' <br /> <br />The rest of the sermon was a blur. In that moment, he knew that he had to speak to Cynthia. Warn her about the lion. The enemy of us all, roaming around, seeking for whom to devour. <br /> <br />'So the moral of the story is that you must have confidence in what God is saying to YOU....' <br /> <br />That morning, Johnny responded to a forgiveness altar call at the end of the service. He lay on the floor distraught, with tears in his eyes, as the Pastor read from Psalm 51. <br /> <br />----------------------------- <br />4<br /><br /><br />When Abidel's dreams stopped soon after he and Beza left the Oracle, he knew that the rains had returned to the Edge of Sara. They returned to a hero's welcome at the Edge. The people of the town rushed to receive them as they appeared in the distance from the desert of Sara. It had already rained for nearly two lunar cycles there, so the people knew that their expedition must have been successful. Their farmlands had not yet turned green again, but they knew that Abidel would know the reason for that, or even have the solution. Indeed, he did have the answer as told to him by the Oracle, but he doubted the veracity of the great Seer´s claims. Was this really the time in which the Great Prophecy would be fulfilled? Also, he still wondered about his other worldly dreams, their significance, and what sinister part, if any, the Oracle had played in igniting them in the first place. He tried his best to put away any negative thoughts of the Oracle as voicing them would no doubt be considered blasphemy in all of High and Low Earth. Abidel recounted everything the Oracle had told them to the Chieftains of the Edge. According to them, barely seven lunar cycles remained for the child spoken of in the Great Prophecy to be born, and this would coincide with the replenishment of the land, perhaps even be the reason for this renewal. The Oracle had seemed to indicate that the child would come from High Earth, so immediately the Chieftains sent a delegation to the Emperor´s Palace, to tell him of the news and begin the frantic search across all of High Earth to find the unborn child in time to receive the Oracle´s blessing and protection.<br /> <br /><br />----------------------------- <br />5 <br /> <br /><br />Cynthia’s dreams stopped the very night she spent at Johnny’s house. She couldn’t bring herself to go to church that morning, and refused to take any of Johnny’s calls. She was wracked with a range of emotions. A large part of her was furious at Johnny for what had happened, and how he had 'taken advantage' of her, but she couldn't, try as she might, silence the soft voice that kept telling her that she had allowed it to happen...she had more than enough warning and she could have removed herself from that situation anytime she wanted. Eventually, she had to face the fact that even though she was angry at Johnny, she was even more angry at herself and consumed with guilt. After listening to the tape of the sermon from that morning, she also realised now that her dreams were probably some sort of warning to her, and she wondered how she could have been so blind. <br /><br />A few weeks later, when she explained to her Pastor why she had decided to change churches, at least temporarily, he granted her wish even though she had just become a youth minister at their church. He had already known about it because Johnny had remorsefully broken down to him within days of the event. If she felt that she needed her space to heal emotionally and spiritually, that’s exactly what he would give her. <br /> <br />As the weeks passed, Cynthia maintained no contact with Johnny. Frustrated by this, he went to see his Pastor for advice as to what to do. “Let her be,” the man said, and preached a mini-sermon to him about dealing with inevitable consequences despite having sought repentance for the actions that caused them. He needed to assure himself of God’s forgiveness, even if he never had the opportunity to seek hers. It was that night he finally got a call from her. His initially relief at seeing her name on his phone dissipated when he heard the words he least expected to hear – “I’m pregnant.” <br /> <br />Johnny was stunned into utter disbelief at the news, and suddenly felt his world crumbling around him. He was speechless, so she kept the call brief, “The baby is yours, and its due in seven months.” Click. His Pastor´s words from that morning reverberated in his mind. Inevitable consequences. This was an eventuality that he and Cynthia had to deal with together. And deal with it they would, but if only they knew that having a child out of wedlock was the least of their worries. Somewhere, in a land far away, in another time, the Oracle rubbed his hands with glee at the conception of a child that would be his pawn. The pawn in his very own immaculate conception.MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-17629070564955213972008-07-25T15:38:00.000-07:002008-07-25T15:46:09.430-07:00The Oracle and the Man of GOD<span style="font-weight:bold;">1<br /><br />Many risings and fallings ago, before most Edgeans could remember, the town at the Edge of Sara was nothing but a sparse clusters of villagers once considered outcasts in High Earth because of their quick, unintelligible speech and outlandish ideas. But the town quickly grew in strength and influence when the people realised that theirs was a strategic location in High Earth, the gateway between all civilisation and the plains of Sara, the link between High Earth and Low Earth. Of course there were people beyond the plains of Sara, but try telling the High Earthens that those beings were civilised - they were regarded even less than the Edgeans ever had been. The town at the Edge was the portal for trading between the two lands, and crucially it was the main access point to the rich plains of Sara. It prospered greatly for these reasons.<br /><br />But the tide was changing for the town at the Edge. A great drought befell the land and it wasn't long before famine followed. The famine persisted for two dozen and six lunar cycles and the plains of Sara dried up and became desert. The shrivelled crops of the Reapers brought no more coins from High or Low Earth and the herds of the Rearers perished. The Chieftains of the town, desperate to know what the future held, decided to send Abidel, servant of the Most High God, to see the Oracle who lived beyond the Sara and the Masai, at the beginning of Low Earth. Abidel was the most revered man of God in the town. He had performed many miracles and prophesied many things that had come to pass. Many High Earthens came from far and wide to hear him speak and witness the great things he did in the town and beyond. But even Abidel could not foresee the end of the famine and that worried the Chieftains greatly. The Oracle would give them the answers they needed. Abidel and his most trusted companion, Beza, saddled their camels, the strongest and finest of the royal herd, and began the journey across the Sara and Masai that would take two lunar cycles.<br /><br />--------------------<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">2</span><br /> <br />A lot had changed in Johnny's life since he became the praise and worship leader at his local church some two and a half years ago. Since turning his back on a lucrative R'n'B career and all the trappings that came with it, he had become more careful in his interactions with the ladies. He decided to stop serenading them with his soulful voice and unsurprisingly the constant stream of women he had playing to his tune quickly dried up. He soon realised that he longed to meet the woman of his dreams but he knew this could take a while. He would wait patiently for "the one" to appear on the horizon. And appear she did. Her name was Cynthia. She was a girl who defied the saying "beauty is in the eye of the beholder". By all accounts, she was beautiful. She was also very smart - she'd graduated with a first class, had bought her own studio flat and worked as a criminologist. As one can imagine, she had no shortage of suitors from far and wide. Although she’d been praying for over a year about meeting the right guy, she’d just become a youth minister at their church and was trying to keep her focus on God. But it wasn't easy. Her desire was to meet that special person she could share her life with. He started chatting to her casually and it wasn't long before he privately began seeking The Lord's approval to approach her and make his intentions known. After a period of two months of intense fasting and prayer, he was still unsure, so he decided to seek his Pastor's blessing, before going ahead with his plans.<br /><br />--------------------<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />3</span><br /> <br /><br />It was approaching dusk when Abidel and Beza arrived at the thick mud hut with a thatched roof at the end of the plains of Masai, the little hamlet which the Oracle called his abode. The Path of the Oracle, as this place was famously referred to, was literally the gateway into Low Earth. As they entered the hut, they found the Oracle sitting at a table in the corner with three places set with food - he had been expecting them. After they said their greetings, the Oracle motioned to Beza to wait outside.<br /><br />"Dear Sir, if I may so humbly address thee, thy servants hath travelled from beyond the deserts of Sara and the plains of Masai to bear witness to thy word, risking health and life for two lunar cycles. Beza is the man at my right hand, my most trusted apprentice. When I am carried up to the Place above even High Earth, all that I have and all that I know shall reside with him."<br /><br /> "Very well," the Oracle replied after a short pause, "He may remain, but he shall not speak." Beza bowed his head in agreement, saying nothing. The Oracle continued, "Man of God, I knowest why thou hast presented thyself before me."<br /><br /> "Pray tell thy subjects, dear Sir, when shall we see the end of the drought and famine that plague the Edge of Sara?"<br /><br />"I tell thee the truth, when the time is right, The Lord shall speak to thee and thee alone."<br /><br />"What shall I tell the Chieftains upon our return to the Edge? Surely the Lord shall not speak to thy subject without giving a word to the thee who watches over all of High and Low Earth?"<br /><br />The Oracle chuckled. A brief silence followed as he walked over to the window and lit a lantern to illuminate the encroaching darkness as nightfall approached. "Knowest thou the tale of the Old Prophet and the man of God?"<br /><br />"Thy speaketh of the tale from the Holy Scrolls of The Chronicles of Kings?"*<br /><br />"Indeed, thou art truly a man well learned in scripture." The Oracle smiled with admiration. "The servant of the Most High before me is like the man of God the Scrolls speak of. Thou speaketh prophesies the same and performeth many great miracles alike. Dost thou recall the untimely end the man befell?"<br /><br />"Certainly. The old prophet lied that the word of the Lord had come to him, inviting the man of God to his home to eat and drink. The man of God in agreeing to this, was disobeying the word that The Lord had already delivered to him, forbidding him from doing this. To punish this disobedience, God spoke through the old prophet, declaring that surely, the Man of God would not be buried with his forefathers. And surely as the old prophet had spoken, the man of God was mauled by a lion on his journey home!"<br /><br />"I tell thee the truth young man; trust no one's word but thine own. Not even mine own. For a time cometh, an hour cometh, when thou shalt possess nought but the Word thou hast receiveth from on High."<br /><br />--------------------<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">4</span><br /><br /><br />Johnny had not gotten the approval he was looking for from his Pastor. He had expected two thumbs to approach any girl in the church that he desired to court. After all, he had served faithfully for many years now. Instead, all he got was a vague response about being sure that God had told him that Cynthia was the one. He decided to go ahead and ask Cynthia to meet up with him for coffee after church. She was cautiously excited by this. Finally, a Godly man noticing her! Cautious because she knew of his past reputation of womanising but surely this was all in the past? Such was his stature in church now that she was even surprised that he would be interested in her. Perhaps he was just being friendly? Any doubts about his intentions were dispelled the following week when they met for lunch. They had barely exchanged pleasantries when he stunned her with the words she least expected to hear - "God said that you're my wife"! She was lost for words. He assured her that she didn't have to respond to his revelation, at least not immediately anyway. However she couldn't hide the fact that she was pleasantly surprised by the way things were progressing. But did God really say? She reasoned that since he had been a leader in church for a while there had to be some truth to his words and her friends told her in no uncertain terms that she'd be totally crazy not to consider a guy like Johnny - he was a great catch. As Johnny laid his head down to sleep that night he prayed for a sign, perhaps a dream, that would confirm those words he had spoken to Cynthia.<br /> <br /><br />--------------------<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />5</span><br /><br />It was the first falling of the sun after their visit to the Oracle that the dreams began. As they camped in the plains of Masai not far from the Path as they began their journey back home, Abidel's sleep was troubled by visions of another place. A land so different from their own, that many of the things he saw were utter mysteries to him. Six risings and fallings later, his plight had only become worse. Each night, he would awake well before dawn grasping for breath as he struggled to understand the strange images that he saw in his sleep.<br /><br />"Perhaps we should return to the Oracle to discover the meaning of these dreams," Beza suggested on the morning of the seventh rising.<br /><br />Upon their return to the Path, the door of the Oracle's hut was wide open. This time, Abidel asked Beza to wait outside and this time when he entered, the Oracle had just two places set at the table.<br /><br />"Thou dreamest of things which thou hast never laid thine eyes upon?"<br /><br />"Thou speakest the truth, O Great Oracle. Mine eyes hath seen a place with more black chariots than the sands of Sara, and red chariots so large that ten dozen men can ride upon each one. All the paths therein were paved with perfect stone and it appeared that they had achieved what the Babylonians had attempted but failed to do long ago in the Holy Scrolls; They had built towers which stood as high as the heavens. Every night since our visitation, I have awoken with images of being trapped in a vessel which rides not on the high seas, but beneath the very earth itself. In appearance, the vessel was like the great sea serpents told of in children's fables and each time I tried to escape, I could not, for the gates were locked firmly shut."<br /><br />The Oracle, stood up, pensive. He walked to the wall by the window at began to scribble things, deep in thought. Things which even a man as learned and well travelled as Abidel could not comprehend. "Thy dreams began the very night thy journey resumed?"<br /><br />"What thou sayest is true. The first falling of the sun after our first visitation."<br /><br />The Oracle walked back towards the table, pulled out some herbs and spices from the cupboard underneath and walked to the fireplace, where a pot of water was already coming to boil. He carefully mixed the condiments into the boiling water and when he was satisfied with the broth that formed, he scooped a portion in a wooden bowl and handed it to Abidel. "I tell thee the truth, when thou drinkest this potion, thine eyes shall be opened, and thou shalt see more clearly than thou hast ever seen!"<br /><br />Abidel was hesitant. He would not have been surprised if the Oracle had not given him the answer which he sought, like the first visitation. Indeed, he had prepared himself for generalities like seek the face of the Lord or pray until thy breakthrough cometh. But the idea of drinking a hurriedly prepared concoction took him by surprise. Was this even in agreement with the ways of the Holy Scrolls that the Oracle claimed to follow? Watched by the approving eyes of the Oracle, Abidel first sipped, then slowly drank from the bowl when he saw that his tongue could bear the taste.<br /><br />That night, as Abidel and Beza began their journey back towards Sara a second time, Abidel's dreams became nightmares. His visions returned, doubly vivid and vicious. "Beza!!! Beezaaaa!!!" He awoke with screams, grasping for the dry air of the Masai.<br /><br />"BEZAAAAAA!!!!" Cynthia screamed, waking up terrified as she struggled to catch her breath. She was in her studio flat in West Hampstead, screaming a name that she had never heard before. She knew it was a name and not a place or thing, but she did not know how she knew this. The house was eerily silent and she began wishing that she didn't live alone. After a few minutes she composed herself but could not sleep another wink that night. She felt like she had momentarily been elsewhere. Another place, perhaps even another time. She could make no sense of this strange experience, but she decided to put it out of her mind. Little did she know that her recurring nightmares would serve as a warning of the dangers that lay ahead. And little did Abidel know that his actions had opened a fissure. A link between two worlds which where not meant to be linked. And this is exactly what the Oracle had intended.<br /><br />*The passage that the Oracle refers to as "The Old prophet and the man of God" can be found in 1 Kings 13:11-25. Tune in next month for the conclusion!<br /><br /></span></span>MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-53923909448692622962008-06-30T14:49:00.000-07:002008-06-30T14:53:07.356-07:00A Town Called OFFAComing shortly...MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-54918539093140116952008-06-16T09:03:00.000-07:002008-06-16T09:30:07.321-07:00The ConstantHi All,<br />here is a piece published in the June edition of Outflow, the Jesus House monthly magazine. It was written before the end of the fourth series of <em>Lost</em>, so while some of the questions posed have now been answered, I think the the message remains constant! (no pun intended! ;-) ) Enjoy!<br /><br /><em>The Constant</em> is the title of one of my favourite episodes of the hit television series <em>Lost</em>. If you’re not familiar with the show, it charts the experiences of the Passengers of Oceanic Flight 815 who crash land on a mysterious island. Since the dramatic plane crash in the pilot episode, viewers have been subjected to four agonising seasons of the survivors desperately trying to get off the island, little knowing that the outside world thinks they’ve all perished in the ill-fated crash. Only a fraction of the show’s initial record-breaking viewership remains now, but after three and a half seasons, it seems there are glimpses of hope for the faithful who remain, as the light at the end of the tunnel is beginning to flicker for the lost passengers trying to escape the island. <br /><br />For three seasons, the show contained flashbacks – in each episode these flashbacks would focus on a different character, giving viewers an insight into who these characters were and how they wound up on the ill-fated flight that got them to the island. In the current season, “flash-forwards”, instead of flashbacks are used to give an insight into what happens to them after they finally get off the island, implicitly indicating that they do eventually leave the island - well, some of them anyway. This has given viewers renewed hoped that four years of sticking with the show have not been in vain! The format for the episode in question has an extra-special twist, incorporating a concept from the sci-fi genre that would perhaps be more at home in a Star Trek or Dr Who episode – time travel. <br /><br />In <em>The Constant</em>, the spotlight is on Desmond Hume, a Scotsman who wasn’t on Oceanic Flight 815, but shipwrecked on the island years earlier while trying to sail around the world in a pointless and futile attempt to prove himself to the love of his life, Penny and her father. Now a mysterious freighter ship has appeared just off the island, and while they are shuttling from the island to the freighter on a helicopter with one of their would-be rescuers, they encounter a storm. Temporal side-effects from the storm leave Desmond’s consciousness shuttling between 1996, where he is serving in the British army, and 2004, present day in the <em>Lost</em> series. A side effect of his time travelling is amnesia, or more precisely, he has no memories beyond 1996, which means that he doesn’t recognise anyone in 2004 nor does he remember how he got to the island! <br /><br />Desmond’s condition is familiar to Daniel Faraday, a physicist on the island who appears to have studied the phenomenon. Faraday explains to Desmond that he must find a constant in the two eras, something familiar in both times to cure himself of the time jumps, which are beginning to occur with increased frequency and will eventually cause a brain aneurism that will lead to his death if not dealt with. He must find something or someone dear to him in both time zones that can anchor him, that he can use a reference point. He decides that his ‘constant’ is going to be Penny and now he is in a race against time to contact her in 2004, in order to save his own life. This may prove near impossible, considering that in the 1996 timeline, he has just broken up with her and she has moved house and changed phone numbers to make a clean break. A dramatic scene ensues, where he asks an angry and reluctant Penny for her new phone number, promises not to call her for another eight years and begs her to pick up the phone on Christmas Eve of 2004, the date that he is due to make the call that will save his life! <br /><br />The concept of <em>The Constant </em>reminds me of our passage through life. Sometimes life can be confusing and lacking in meaning. It is difficult for most people to live a meaningful and fulfilled life without knowing their purpose or reason for living. Even though as Christians we ought to know the reason we are here on earth, we sometimes need a constant reminder of the facts, otherwise, rather like Desmond, we run the risk of our world being turned upside down completely when we encounter the storms of life. Our relationship with God should be our Constant, and we ought to be continuously anchored in His word, the Bible, lest we forget our purpose, abandon our callings and are found wanting when the big tests in life come. The confusion that engulfs Desmond’s life when he is trying to find his constant is rather like the confusion that can set in, either gradually or suddenly when we take our walk with God for granted. The trials of life can sometimes force our hands, causing us to exhibit tendencies and traits that we were unaware existed within us, leading to identity crises, and in the extreme, a fight for our very lives – our spiritual lives (Ephesians 6:12 tells us the we wrestle not against flesh and blood!). <br /><br />But <em>The Constant </em>is also a love story. In a dramatic final scene, Desmond makes the call that will save his life in 2004 and Penny answers the phone. It’s the first time they’ve spoken in years and Penny reveals she’s been searching for him for the three years that he’s been missing. They profess their undying love to each other several times and she promises to never stop trying to find him (the exact location of the island is a mystery to the outside world – in fact she’s one of a handful of people who even know it exists!). And this is what makes this closing scene so dramatic, that despite having overcome impossible odds to find each other, they both know that their reunion in person has to be put on hold, and indeed may never happen. Will she find the island? Will Desmond make it off the island or freighter alive? Only time will tell, but experience tells me that some love stories, like that of agiant-sized ape and a petite New York City actress, are ill-fated from the get go! <br /><br />Nevertheless, since we all enjoy happily-ever-afters, let’s hope that things work out for Desmond and Penny. After all, for two people who’ve endured a terrible break-up to hold on to their love for more than eight years is nothing short of amazing – one could argue that it is taking love to Biblical proportions! Jacob working for seven years for Rachel’s hand in marriage and another seven years when he finds out he was given Leah instead springs to mind. Just like the prodigal son, Desmond is welcomed back with open arms and all past transgressions are forgiven. For Penny, the overwhelming joy of finding him again made any prior resentment she harboured against him irrelevant! Likewise, in our walk with Christ we must truly understand that He wipes the slate of our past clean – His love is all encompassing, transcending the boundaries of time and unparalleled when compared with the finite nature of human love! So the pertinent questions that everyone ought to answer for themselves are these – Who or what is your Constant? Is your Constant firm enough for you to feel secure in the knowledge of your past, present and future? Is it strong enough to anchor your identity for all eternity? Like Desmond, to make sense of the present day and where we are headed, we also have to go back to the past, some two thousand years ago to find our Constant. The Constant who is the same yesterday, today and forevermore – Christ who gave His life for us on the Cross of Calvary!MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-1992477188654957052008-06-10T13:23:00.000-07:002008-06-10T13:38:49.003-07:00Memoirs of a Motor Racer“When I grow up, I want to be a race car driver”. These were the words I spoke to my bemused father when he asked me what I wanted to do for a living when I was older. I was five years old at the time and he had no reason to take my childish ambition seriously. He probably dismissed my words as quickly as one would dismiss any misguided dream harboured by a child untouched by the harsh realities of life. But that dream was about to become a reality... <br /><br />After putting on my race suit, I check that my gloves are correctly fitted and then I try my helmet on. I check my gloves again. My palms are sweaty. After a moment of deep meditation, I take a deep breath, stand up with my helmet in left hand and stride purposefully out of the locker room. While it may be my first race ever, I am determined not to let any anxiety get the better of me. I climb into my car for the start of the race. I am third on the starting grid. Yes, I was third fastest in qualifying – not bad for a rookie. The weather had been great, my car was buzzing and I had simply been in one of my “do you feel lucky” moods. The conditions had been perfect; I drove some stunning bends and finished less than half a second behind pole position. The big question on my mind now was whether I could repeat such a flawless performance in the real thing, when the stakes were highest. <br /><br />I look up and I can see the dark clouds hovering above us. It looks like the skies aren’t going to be so kind today. I am deeply focused as I take my place on the grid. I’ve got the Ferrari in pole position and the McLaren in second in my sights. The break of light showers from the heavens can barely break my perfect concentration as I expectantly wait for the red light to turn green….and there it goes! My car seems to jerk into motion and the BMW, which started fourth on the grid storms past me as we turn into the first bend. The cars in fifth and six are on my shoulders as we emerge from the bend. I try to block their paths but my start hasn’t been quick enough. I let them go past me knowing that if I remain calm and perform like I know I can, I’ll still get my chance later on. No race is determined after one lap. I hold seventh place for about half the lap, but something seems awfully wrong as I feel eighth breathing down my neck. The power and drive seem to have deserted my vehicle – it’s not performing with the zest with which it undertook the qualifying session. My team signals a pit stop after just one lap. Oh no, this is a disastrous start. As I pull into the pits, I begin to contemplate the most disappointing debut in the history of sport, and this after promising so much too. I change karts, and despite the record breaking four-second pit stop, when I leave the pit lane I’m in sixteenth place and it’s only the second lap of the race!<br /><br />Okay, remain calm, I tell myself. I may have fallen way back and while I now have a mountain to climb, all I need is some inspiration to spark me to unprecedented glory. Think Chariots of Fire, Think Miracle of Damman, Think Cool Runnings....no wait – not Cool Runnings – they didn’t cross the finish line! The new vehicle is absolutely purring and I get into a nice rhythm. It doesn’t take long before I am in the ascendancy; I’m going past my rivals at the rate of about one driver per lap. My car change has paid off handsomely and I’m going faster and faster with each passing lap. I’m overtaking like a man possessed. With twenty laps gone I’m back in eighth place. As I turn into the long stretch of the track I can see seventh in the distance. I have him in my sights but I’m focusing on the road now as it will take me a while to cut his lead down to size... <br /><br />Ten laps to go. I am now breathing down the neck of seventh place, who is in a fierce battle for position with the two cars ahead of him. He’s barely a second ahead of me. This doesn’t give me much time to react when, turning the sharpest corner on the whole circuit, they become entangled and are involved in a nasty three vehicle collision! My heart skips a beat and as would anyone else’s who is becoming gripped by my enthralling comeback. It looks for a second that it might get cut short prematurely....but then my unscathed vehicle emerges from the dust and the rubble of the multiple car pile-up. My reflexes are too good to be stopped by such accidents. Destiny beckons. I’m back in contention now and before long I am approaching the McLaren and the BMW in second and third places respectively. They’ve been in a bitter battle for second all race long, overtaking each other several times. But all that is about to change. As we approach the sharpest bend on the track once again, the two of them are deadlocked. With laps running out, I will have to take my chance now to stand any chance of catching the Ferrari. There’s no room to pass on the outside or the inside of them – there is barely the width of a car between them but somehow I manage to squeeze through. I feel the strong torrent of wind between them rush across my face and there is barely a whisker separating my kart from theirs on either side of me. As we emerge from the corner, all they can see is my exhaust. Wow! They’ll be talking about that manoeuvre on the news tonight! The final lap. And I’ve finally caught the Ferrari. The momentum is with me but he is still ahead of me, by fractions of a second. He will do well to hold me off. He proves up to the task at every bend and corner. Until now, I have been untroubled by the light drizzles but now it is raining heavily. This doesn’t help overtaking conditions on sharp bends. It seems that the end of the race may have come a lap too soon, but I must keep believing that I can still win. In my mind’s eye, I can see myself beating him at the chequered flag, but in reality, the heavy downpour is blurring my vision. I have one final chance to realise my vision as we enter the final straight. I put my foot flat on the accelerator and I seem certain to zoom past him....but suddenly he swerves in my direction. My reflexes are quick but the conditions are poor. The front of my kart clips his and I go skidding into the gravel and slam straight into the course barriers! I’m too stunned to tell you at what speed exactly I was going when I careered into the barricades. I can tell you that I didn’t cross the finish line. I’m sitting in my kart stuck and with my hands raised up, waiting for the paramedics and rescue services to arrive to cut me out of this mess as quickly as possible. I see a couple of people running towards me but I can’t really make them out. As they arrive, I hear a very familiar voice call out to me, “Son, are you okay?” I look up and as my dizziness from crash clears up I can see my father standing with the course marshal. “Do you want to continue the race or would you like to retire?” I give them a thumbs up and the marshal pushes my kart back onto the track. I take the chequered flag in fourth place. Not bad for my first time go-karting. I narrowly miss out on a podium place, but I live to fight another day. I am twelve years old now and my dream of being a formula one driver is very much alive. After all, even Lewis Hamilton started out racing go karts!MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-67027191279069085822008-06-10T13:10:00.000-07:002008-06-10T13:23:26.715-07:00777 Saga Returns in 2009Hi All!<br />I just wanted to say a big thanks to everyone who followed the 777 saga through to the completion of the Quintology! I do hope that you thoroughly enjoyed reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing the story! I'll be taking a hiatus from this particular story for now, but I plan to return in 2009 to pick up from where I've left off in 2008, so watch this space!!! <br /><br />In the mean time, a writer never ceases to do his thing! So do please sit back and enjoy the random musings of this restless mind!MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-25492235458738870842008-05-28T13:48:00.000-07:002008-05-28T15:52:06.156-07:00777 Rebourne - The 300!!!<em><strong>The Final Recap:</strong> The 777 Saga comes full circle in this final chapter! Samuel is in his hospital bed in San José, Costa Rica, recuperating after waking up from 2 years in a coma. He and his friends were holidaying in the country on the 7th of July 2007 when they suffered a horrific car accident.It appears life has moved on for everyone else and before long Samuel realises that his friends are desperately trying to keep the truth of hislost years from him. While Deji and Dami must hide from him the fact that they are now married, Afua inadvertently lets slip to Samuel that perhaps the 777 scripture and the 300 that it speaks of may be the key to unlocking the dark, hidden secrets that he struggles to uncover. And finally, there is the mysterious figure of Miguel Barbosa, the Director of Special Ops for the SJPD, who saved them from a drug cartel in a small town called Jacó. However with Barbosa, there appears to be more than meets the eye… </em><br /><br /><br />There was a knock on Samuel’s door and before he could respond a man in police uniform he recognised almost immediately walked into the room.<br /><br />“Hi Samuel, It’s good to have you back. Do you remember who I am?”<br /><br />“Yes Señor Barbosa, I remember. I never got the chance to thank you for rescuing us in Jacó.”<br /><br />“Don’t mention it. I have a few questions for you if you don’t mind.”<br /><br />“Sure, go ahead."<br /><br />“What happened after you left Jacó?” He took out his notepad and pen in preparation for Samuel’s response.<br /><br />“We continued on our way back to San José. We were almost there when we reached a crossroad and a car jumped the light and collided with us. I remember our car somersaulting several times and then I lost consciousness.”<br /><br />“Do you remember anything else after that?”<br /><br />Samuel thought hard for a moment and then responded, “No, the next thing I remember was waking up in this hospital bed two days ago and realising that I’d lost two years.”<br /><br />There was a short pause as Barbosa scribbled diligently into his notebook everything that Samuel said. “Are you sure you don’t remember anything else?” he asked looking at Samuel intently.<br /><br />“I don’t. Is there something else I ought to remember?” Samuel said returning his stare.<br /><br />“No, of course not. Thank you for your time. Here’s my card. If you remember anything else about that day, don’t hesitate to give me a call.”<br /><br />“Sure.”<br /><br />As Barbosa turned to leaving the room, Samuel kept his eyes suspiciously locked on the man. He had the distinct impression that Barbosa wasn’t being entirely truthful. And he felt troubled by strange images. Though he knew that these images couldn’t be anything but vivid dreams, Barbosa’s visit had only served to question whether these dreams were more real than he had thought they were.<br /> <br /><br /><strong>Two Years Ago</strong><br /> <br />Dami, Deji and Afua stood over Samuel’s hospital bed as he lay there motionless and unconscious. He was strapped up with all sorts of pins and wires attached to him and he was connected to a life support machine to the left of his bed. Green intermittent zig zag lines across the machine emphasised the fragility of the life that it supported. And the doctor’s prognosis wasn’t positive.<br /><br />“Samuel has suffered heavy internal bleeding and has a blood clot in the brain. I’m afraid to say that it’s impossible to say for how long he will be in a coma, and he may well never wake up again.”<br /><br />They were stunned into silence by the doctor’s revelation. He stood with them quietly without saying another word, allowing the friends to come to terms with the gravity of Samuel’s condition. The brief silence was broken by a knock on the open door, and a man in a police uniform walked in. It was Officer Barbosa, the Director of Special Operations for the San José police. Only two days earlier, before their fateful accident, he had saved them after being kidnapped by a tyrannical drug lord in Jacó.<br /><br />“Good afternoon, Señores y Señoras. I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”<br /><br />“No, that’s fine,” Deji said responding for the group, “What can we do for you Officer?”<br /><br />“Well, I appreciate that you haven’t been able to come to the station since the accident. I was hoping that I could take your statements about the drug ring we busted in Jacó.”<br /><br />“Sure that shouldn’t be a problem...” Deji started, but then he was interrupted by the sharp ring of his mobile. He pulled the phone from his side pocket and checked to see who the caller was before continuing. “Sorry, I need to take this call. It’s work.” <br /><br />Officer Barbosa, the doctor and his friends all nodded at him as he stepped out into the corridor. He found a secluded area down the hall from Samuel’s room, looked round to make sure no one could overhear him, and then he answered the call.<br /><br />“Hello, Deji speaking.” After a short pause, he continued speaking. “Yes, Samuel’s condition doesn’t look very good. Perhaps we were wrong about him. He’s not one of them.”<br /><br />After listening to the voice on the other end of the phone he responded, “Something is not quite right about this scenario. I don’t trust this<br />Barbosa character – there is something rather suspicious about him. Have you been able to pull the files on him yet?”<br /><br />He listened intently for another minute, as if he was mentally taking downvery detailed specific orders.<br /><br />“Understood. I’ll make it so and report back to you at 07:00 hours. Over and out.”<br /><br />Deji flipped his phone shut. He stood contemplating his next course of action for a few seconds before returning to Samuel’s room where Officer Barbosa had already started questioning his friends.<br /><br /><br /><strong>Two Days Earlier</strong><br /> <br />Samuel awoke to the noise of blaring sirens. The room was dark, he could barely see anything. He tried to move but his hands were strapped to the narrow bed on which he lay. He felt the ground moving underneath him, and it was bumpy. As far as he could tell he was in an ambulance. A man, who he could hardly recognise in the dim lighting, towered over him and he could hear him say, “He’s waking up; we’re going to have to do this now or never”. His voice was unmistakeable. It was Officer Miguel Barbosa.<br /><br />“Officer Barbosa,” he managed to get the words out, “Where am I?”<br /><br />“Actually, the name is Agent Shenouda. My team was only working undercover as San José Police. You’ve just been in an accident on the road from Quepos. Do you remember?”<br /><br />“Of course I remember – my head still hurts.” Samuel responded. “So, who are you, really?”<br /><br />“Egyptian Secret Service. I’m the head of Unit 777, the counter-terrorism unit of the Egyptian armed forces. We have three hundred operatives across the globe dedicated to preserving the safety and security of not just our country but the world we live in today.”<br /><br />Almost immediately, Samuel recalled Judges 7:7, the scripture they had discovered just before their accident. The LORD said to Gideon, <strong>"With the three hundred men that lapped I will save you and give the Midianites into your hands. Let all the other men go, each to his own place."</strong> Was this the answer to the 777 riddle they had frantically been searching for?<br /><br />“Why are you telling me all this?”<br /><br />“Have you heard of Phase-one memory wipes?” On seeing the blank look on Samuel’s face, Agent Shenouda continued, “It is the most basic form of memory manipulation – specific memories, dates and occurrences can be extracted from a person’s mind by use of invasive techniques. The reason you’ve never heard of this is because you have been subjected to the procedure yourself.”<br /><br />“What do you mean? When did this happen?”<br /><br />“A long time ago, in your childhood. In 1977, the year that The Unit was set up, a group of ten thousand children born on the 7th of July were purported to have physical and mental abilities beyond that of the average human being. We felt compelled to act on this information and over a number of years, we recruited these children for extensive testing and monitoring.<br /><br />Most of them did not manifest these abilities, but the few that did were tagged and returned to their normal lives until they were ready for<br /><br />re-integration into The Unit. You were one of the children that we tagged!”<br /><br />“This all sounds very fantastic, but even though I was born in ’77, the 7th of July is not my birthday!”<br /><br />“This is exactly what you’ve been led to believe, thanks to the Phase-one memory wipe. This was necessary for your own protection from other agencies and terrorist cells that may have been privy to the same Intel that we possessed.”<br /><br />All this was incredulous. Samuel paused to digest the information overload for a moment before he spoke again. “What if I am not interested in being reintegrated as you put it?”<br /><br />“Well, you have two options. If you choose not to accept our proposal, you will wake up in San José general hospital tomorrow morning with a bump on the head and no recollection that this conversation ever took place. On the other hand, your mission, if you choose to accept it, will take you through rigorous high physical fitness and combat training, deep cover reconnaissance and ultimately a part in bringing down the biggest terrorist threat that mankind has ever faced!”<br /><br />Samuel stared at him directly and thought for a long, hard moment. He was being given the choice to lose his present life and gain a whole new one. And as dangerously exciting as the new one sounded, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to let go of the one he had already.<br /><br />“What about my friends – what will happen to them?”<br /><br />“Well, do you think that the ability of Afua’s dreams to predict the future is purely coincidental? She was also tagged and we have been tracking her too. Look, don’t worry about your friends. Besides, they aren’t all exactly who you think they are. Deji is MI6, for example. If he knew of our links to the British SAS, he probably wouldn’t be trying to interfere so much.”<br /><br />“How can that be possible? He doesn’t even have a British passport!”<br /><br />“That’s all part of the act. I’m sure whenever he’s travelling he tells you he needs to go to some embassy or the other to get a visa. An easy way of covering up what he’s really doing.”<br /><br />“That’s difficult to believe. This all sounds very improbable!”<br /><br />“How improbable is it really? He’s told you he works for an Investment Bank<br />but has he ever really told you what he does?”<br /><br />“Yes, many times.”<br /><br />“But have you ever understood what he told you when he explained?”<br /><br />“Never.”<br /><br />“And haven’t you noticed the frequency with which he excuses himself to take calls from work, even on holiday?”<br /><br />“That’s not unusual for investment bankers...”<br /><br />Shenouda started to grow impatient. “Look, we don’t have very much time. We’re less than 5 minutes from the hospital and we need to be in place by then to cover our tracks. So what will it be?”<br /><br />“Will I ever get my old life back?”<br /><br />“Depending on the success of your mission, you may be returned to your old life after a two year period.”<br /><br />Samuel considered his options and in that moment, his desire to know the truth about his upbringing and everything happening around him far outweighed his fear of venturing into the unknown. “Okay, I’ll do it. What do you need me to do?”<br /><br />“We’re going to inject you with a controlled dose of a cocktail of pentobarbital and thiopental – drugs that will induce a coma-like state. Once we’re satisfied that your friends and the relevant authorities are convinced that your coma is permanent and that your condition is too precarious for you to be moved from Costa Rica, we’ll revive you.”<br /><br />Before Samuel could even give his consent to the plan, he felt a sharp pain shoot into his right arm. As he lost consciousness he contemplated the loss of his old life and the beginning of a new life he was about to discover. His rebirth.<br /> <br /><strong>THE END</strong><br /> <br />Judges 7:7 (New International Version)MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-56991633934830631172008-05-14T14:49:00.000-07:002008-05-15T13:55:03.123-07:00777 - Bourne Again!!!<strong>Recap:</strong> <em>Samuel, Deji and their friends were travelling on holiday through Costa Rica on the 7th of July 2007, when it occurred to them that the date was of some major significance to their destinies. They had figured that it referred to the 7th verse of the 7th chapter of the 7th book of the Bible, but just when they were on the verge of discovering the implication of Judges 7:7 they were involved in a terrible road accident. When Samuel awoke two years later Dami, the woman he loved, had gotten married and he had no recollection of any events since the accident...</em><br />When Samuel woke, Deji and Afua were at his bedside. He sat up and observed them cautiously. <br /><br />It was Deji who broke the silence. "How are you feeling?"<br /><br />"I'm fine thanks," he replied, but he had things other than his wellbeing on his mind. "What is today's date?" <br /><br />Deji and Afua looked at each other, but before either of them could respond, Samuel continued. "Let me see your phone," he said. Deji took his phone out of his pocket and passed it to him. He immediately checked the date. <strong>09/07/2009</strong>. So he hadn’t been dreaming; he’d been unconscious for exactly two years…and two extra days.<br /><br />"Dami told us that you had already found out," Afua said. <br /><br />"We weren’t meant to tell you," Deji added, "the doctors thought that the shock would be too much."<br /><br />"Where am I? Are we still in Costa Rica?"<br /><br />"Yes, you’re in San José hospital’s special patients ward," Deji replied. "We flew in from London a couple of days ago when we heard your condition had improved. Your mother had to return to London to sort out a couple of things but she will be back here tomorrow."<br /><br />"How is she?"<br /><br />"I spoke to her this morning," Afua said. "She absolutely can’t wait to see you!"<br /><br />There was a long pause before Samuel finally said, "So what have I missed these past couple of years?"<br /><br />"Where to even begin..." Afua started.<br /><br />"Well, let’s start with you lovebirds. Are you married yet?"<br /><br />Afua wasn't very good at disguising her feelings and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.<br /><br />"Go on," Deji said, trying to lighten the mood. "I think you can tell him. After all, he already knows he’s lost two years. What's the worst that could happen?"<br /><br />She looked him in the eye, as if hoping to gain strength from him, and then nodded.<br /><br />"Well," she said to Samuel, "we broke up shortly after the accident."<br /><br />"Really, what happened?"<br /><br />"I had a dream that it wasn’t meant to be."<br /><br />"Let’s just say that we both realised that we weren’t compatible," Deji explained.<br /><br />"Wow!" Samuel exclaimed. There was a barely noticeable pause before he continued. "What about Dami – who is she married to?"<br /><br />Deji hesitated. "I think it’s probably best if you heard that from her directly..."<br /><br />Samuel was satisfied with the response, at least for the moment. After a short ponder he continued, “You know Quepos reminds me of the word ‘queso’ in Spanish.”<br /><br />“Really, what does that mean?”<br /><br />“It means cheese. Have you read the book ‘Who Moved My Cheese?’”<br /><br />“Yes,” Afua said, “it’s about two mice and two little people in a maze going around looking for cheese. Why do you ask?”<br /><br />“Well,” he continued, “the cheese signified what they wanted out of life. Our trip to Quepos reminds me of their journey to find the cheese.”<br /><br />“Really,” she responded, “how so?”<br /><br />“The unpredictability of everything. It’s like our passage through life. You embark on a journey to a certain place you aspire to but on the way things barely turn out the way you plan them.”<br /><br />“And when you reach your destination or achieve your goal," Deji added, “it never feels quite how you expected it to.”<br /><br />“Yes,” Samuel agreed, “and the people you start your journey with aren’t necessarily the people that you complete it with.”<br /><br />Afua also chips in. “So it’s like an underground network where people get on and get off at different stops?”<br /><br />“Exactly,” Samuel continued, “and most times you have no control over when and how they come into your life, or indeed when they leave.”<br /><br />“That’s certainly interesting,” Deji concluded. “Anyway, I brought you some books to read. We ought to leave so that the doctors can see to you. You’ve been out for a long time! The good thing I guess is that on this journey of life, God always gives us second chances!”<br /><br />Deji put the books on the coffee table as they left the room. When Samuel turned his head he noticed that a Bible sat on top of the pile. It was bound in black leather and had the words “NUEVO TESTAMENTO” inscribed on it. <br /><br /><em>Second chances</em>, Samuel thought. The Bible is made up of two testaments. <em>Two years, two days,</em> he thought. Second chances. <em>What if the seventh verse of the seventh chapter of the seventh book is in the New Testament and not the Old Testament?</em> It was an epiphanic moment. Samuel jumped out of bed and grabbed the New Testament Bible, shaking his head at the irony of it all when he realised they had found similar Bibles in Quepos but didn’t check them because they only contained the New Testament. He looked at the contents page and counted to the seventh book. It was 1 Corinthians. He hurriedly turned to 1 Corinthians 7:7. <em><strong>Sometimes I wish everyone were single like me—a simpler life in many ways! But celibacy is not for everyone any more than marriage is. God gives the gift of the single life to some, the gift of the married life to others.</strong></em> <br /><br /><em>Oh no, not the gift!</em> Samuel thought. What if this was the path he was meant to take in life? Perhaps this discovery was to help him overcome the struggles from his past. Perhaps this all made sense, considering that the woman he loved was now married - God gives some, like him, the gift of single life while others, like Dami, the gift of married life. He couldn’t help but feel that this was a second birth and he determined that he was going to live it to the fullest. In that moment, Samuel knew what his calling was – at least he thought that he did.<br /><br />When Deji and Afua left Samuel’s room, they returned to the hospital reception, where Dami and Officer Barbosa were waiting for them. Officer Miguel Barbosa was the head of Special Operations for the San José police who had rescued the four friends from a kidnapping by a Costa Rican drug lord shortly before the accident. When Dami saw them emerge, she ran into Deji’s arms and hugged him tightly.<br /><br />"How is he doing?" she asked. "Did you tell him about us?"<br /><br />"No, I didn’t," Deji replied. "The doctors think the shock might be too much for him to take if we told him too soon."<br /><br />Afua agreed. "If he fainted for two whole days when he found out you were married, who knows what will happen when he finds out who you’re married to!" she said.<br /><br />"I’m really worried how he’s going to take it," Dami admitted.<br /><br />Deji held her reassuringly. "Remember that this is for the best. The alternative would have been much worse. We have to keep reminding ourselves of that even if Samuel never learns the truth."<br /><br />“Speaking of the truth,” Barbosa interrupted somewhat impatiently, “did he take the bait?”<br /><br />“Only time will tell,” Deji responded, “Like we agreed, I made sure the New Testament was top of the pile of books, so we’ll have to see if he bought it.”<br /><br />“You do realise that I’m going to have to ask him some questions to make sure that he doesn’t remember anything that’s happened?”<br /><br />“Of course,” Deji replied, “take all the time you need.” <br /><br />As Barbosa left for Samuel’s room, Afua turned to Dami and Deji. "Since we're not telling Samuel about you guys yet I think it would be a good idea for you to lay low while he recovers. Why don’t you return to London for now until he is well enough to leave Costa Rica? I can stay back here for a few days to keep him company." <br /><br />"Okay," Dami said, with some reluctance. "But make sure you keep us updated on his progress and let us know when it’s okay to come back out here – we’ll have to tell him sooner or later."<br /><br />They hugged Afua, said their goodbyes and left the hospital, taking their rental car back to their hotel room.<br /><br />The mood in the car was sombre and neither said a word for ten minutes. The tension in the air was palpable; Dami had noticed a change in Deji’s body language the moment they left the hospital, and she knew him well enough to detect when he was keeping up appearances in public. Something was clearly troubling him. She tried to put her hand on his but he chose that moment to place his free hand on the steering wheel.<br /><br />"What’s the matter?" she asked. <br /><br />"Nothing," he replied as tears began to well up in his eyes. "I just feel guilty about what happened to Samuel, and what’s happened since"<br /><br />"Deji, we’ve been through this a thousand times, you’re not responsible for what happened to Samuel!"<br /><br />"I know, but it doesn’t make this any easier. I knew how Samuel felt about you and that’s all he’s going to care about when he finds out about us!"<br /><br />"Hold on, weren’t you the one reassuring me at the hospital that this was a small price to pay given the alternative?"<br /><br />“Yes, but it seems like I’m the fall guy in all of this. I just wish there was an easy way of getting him to understand the circumstances.” <br /><br />Dami pondered for a moment and then continued, “So would you rather we told him about the 300 and what really happened to him?”<br /><br /> “Of course we can’t do that. Remember that it’s in his best interest that he doesn’t remember all that?”<br /><br />“Not to mention that it’s classified information?”<br /><br />“That’s also true.”<br /><br />“Look, don’t worry about Samuel. He’s mentally strong. He’ll get over this in no time.”<br /><br />“You’re right, and once Barbosa confirms that he doesn’t remember anything, we can all move on.”<br /> <br />Dami was silent for a while, staring out of the window at the passing scenery. "Don’t you believe that we would have gotten married even if Samuel hadn't gone into a coma?" she eventually asked.<br /><br />Deji didn't respond, but that was as much an answer as anything he could have said. She shifted her body ever so slightly so that she was now turned to face the window. They continued their journey to the hotel exactly as they had begun it – in complete silence.<br /> <br />When Samuel woke up later that evening, Afua alone was sitting by his bedside. She was crying. He quietly observed her for a minute, noticing that she was holding some documents. Looking closely he could see the phrase <strong>‘The 300’ </strong>written in bold on the file on her lap. Unbidden, his mind immediately shot back to Judges 7:7, the scripture they had discovered just seconds before their fateful crash. He didn't know how, or why, but he could remember it verbatim. The LORD said to Gideon, <em><strong>"With the three hundred men that lapped I will save you and give the Midianites into your hands. Let all the other men go, each to his own place."</strong></em><br /><br />"What’s wrong?" he asked, once he was ready to let her know he was awake. <br /><br />She hurriedly reached up to wipe the tears from her face.<br /><br />"Nothing…nothing at all." She wasn’t very convincing, as she barely managed to get the words out. <br /><br />"Are you sure?"<br /><br />"Absolutely."<br /><br />"Well, if you insist." He stared at her for a moment to see if she would change her mind. She didn't so he continued. "Something has been bothering me since I came out of my coma. I had these very vivid dreams about being in an ambulance after the crash. So vivid that they felt real. Barbosa was there. He asked me several questions. He said his name was actually Agent Shenouda. It's not a name I'm familiar with but I remember it so well. Ordinarily I could have dismissed this as a meaningless dream but his coming in to see me this afternoon seemed to confirm it. He asked if I remembered anything about the crash. Of course I told him I remembered nothing." <br /><br />Again she did a poor job of concealing her thoughts. Her hesitation and the slight worry on her face betrayed the fact that she knew something she wasn’t willing to say. <br /><br />"Afua, is there something that you’re not telling me? Do you know anything about my dream?" <br /><br />When she remained silent, he continued, "What is that you’re holding? It says something about three hundred." <br /><br />"Oh, that’s nothing," she replied, putting the file away more hurriedly than she would have liked. "Didn't we see the movie together? The one about the 300 Spartans who fought against the vast Persian army. You said it was a classic tale of the underdog emerging victorious despite overwhelming odds."<br /><br />"Didn’t they lose that battle?"<br /><br />"I think you meant they gained personal victory despite being defeated. You remember Judges 7:7 don't you? Gideon’s valiant 300 defeated the Midianite army numbering tens of thousands. You used it as a comparative story. You said they gained a public, as well as personal, victory. I think you were using it to highlight the difference when God is on your side. Didn't you say that's what the story of our whole episode has been about?" <br /><br />Samuel couldn't remember saying any of the things she now attributed to him, though they sounded like statements he could have made. And he couldn't remember Afua being a convincing liar so it had to have been true. Didn't it?<br /><br />"So you're saying that everything we’ve been through - the 777 riddle, your dreams and the two years I’ve lost all have something to do with 300 men?"<br /><br />"No Samuel. I’m saying you said that. Look, I have to leave. You really should get some rest." <br /><br />"Wait," Samuel said as she made her way for the door. "I don't remember any of the stuff you just said. Tell me about the 300? And why do I have memories from after the crash if I’ve been in a coma all this time? What really happened to me? You have to tell me." <br /><br />Afua got to the door and paused. Her friend was more formidable than any of them had given him credit for. <br /><br />"The answers you’re looking for are somewhere in your subconscious. To find them you have to go back to the beginning, where it all started." And then she left the room.<br /><br />The beginning, Samuel thought. Whatever the future held, he knew that it would involve digging for the missing pieces of his fractured past. A past so mysterious that even those closest to him were intent on keeping it from him.<br /><br /><strong>THE END</strong><br /><br /><em>1 Corinthians 7:7 (The Message)<br />Judges 7:7 (New International Version)</em>MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-45254096372597582102008-05-03T15:52:00.000-07:002008-05-03T16:14:35.803-07:00777 - The Final Destination<em><strong>Recap: </strong>Samuel and friends were on holiday in Costa Rica. On the morning of the 7th of July 2007, the seven of them left the capital city San José on a trip to a beach town called Quepos, little knowing that this particular road trip would change the course of their lives forever. Daniel, Belinda and Brenda had lost their way early on in the trip and returned to San José, while Afua, Dami, Deji and Samuel had continued on to Quepos. The signs were unmistakeable. From the Boeing 777 plane they had boarded for Costa Rica, to their room 777 at the San José Marriott and various other signs they had encountered on their journey that morning, it was clear that the number 777 was intricately linked to their collective destinies. And if Afua’s dream the night before was anything to go by, they had until 7pm to figure this riddle out. The seventh verse or the seventh chapter of the seventh book of the Bible was the best clue they had to go on so far...</em><br /><br /><br />Deji and Samuel tried to make light hearted conversation as they sat locked in a small jail cell in Jacó, a small town near the mountains in Costa Rica. They had been lured there under false pretences by a gang who had taken them to what they had thought was a police station.<br /><br /><br />“So, how are things going with you and Afua?” Samuel asked.<br /><br /><br />“Well, I’m not sure,” Deji responded, “she’s smart, beautiful, intelligent and God-fearing. Everything a guy could want in a woman.”<br /><br /><br />“So what’s the problem?”<br /><br /><br />“Well, we do have our differences. And also I think I had always imagined I’d marry a Nigerian.”<br /><br /><br />“So what if she is Ghanaian? Look I don’t think you should be so picky. My mother is Nigerian. My dad was from Equatorial Guinea. I don’t really care where my future wife will come from and I don’t think you should either.”<br /><br /><br />“Okay, I’m working on it. So have you made a move on Dami yet?”<br /><br /><br />“Well, no I haven’t. I just haven’t found the courage to do it yet. I just have the impression that she’ll only be interested in the Investment Banker types like herself and you of course. And I'm a bit worried that my rather wild escapades in the past might put her off!”<br /><br /><br />“My friend, there is nothing wrong with Freelance Photography. And forget about the past, old things have passed away, behold all things are new! I suggest that if we ever make it out of this mess alive you waste no time in asking her out!”<br /><br /><br />They continued talking for another half hour, and it was while they were wondering whether their predicament was somehow linked to the July 7 bombings in London exactly two years before, that a series of explosions shook the building. After a ten minute shootout outside their cell came to an abrupt halt, about a dozen men in commando black burst into their prison cell and led them back to the reception room of the building which they now knew was actually a drug cartel operation fronting as a police station. There, they were reunited with Afua and Dami. The friends hugged each other with a deep sense of relief, but an uneasing air of uncertainty persisted as they sought to understand the intentions of this mysterious new group of men.<br /><br /><br />As the four friends stood in the reception their contemplating their fate with their new captors, the scar-faced drug baron, a picture of invincibility only an hour ago emerged from a room in handcuffs, flanked by four heavily armed men. They lead him outside into a black van with tinted windows. On the sirens went, and the van left hurriedly escorted by two black police vehicles. Their gaze at the ensuing scene was interrupted by one of the men who approached them.<br /><br /><br />“Buenos Dias, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Officer Miguel Barbosa. I am the director of the special operations unit for the San José Police Department. We’d like to thank you immensely for helping us apprehend Senor Cordoba. He’s been on our most wanted list for a long time and you helped lead us to his hideout.” He continued as they stood there dumbfounded. “Our country owes you a great deal of gratitude. For now, you’re free to return to San José this evening to rest but please do come into the police station tomorrow morning so that we can take your full statements.”<br /><br /><br />They were soon on their way back to San José but before getting there, they once again had to navigate the dangerous bends on the high altitude mountain roads. Deji looked at his wrist-watch. It was nearly 5pm, and as they ascended into the mountains a burly mist descended around them, seemingly from the heavens themselves. They could hardly see 10 metres ahead of them and by now Samuel was driving the jeep along at barely 5mph. He was very careful to stay in the centre of the road – a tiny slip towards the right could easily result in a freefall of thousands of feet down the side of the mountains. The local drivers, undeterred by the hazardous driving conditions, were speeding past them and overtaking at dangerous bends despite being blind to oncoming traffic. Samuel let each one through, cars and trucks alike.<br /><br /><br />As they turned a corner they approached a nasty looking accident. A car had plunged into the rocks on side of the road bordered by the rising hills. As they drove past in what felt like slow motion, they could see the driver of the vehicle still strapped in, trapped between his seat and the inflated airbag in front of him, blood trickling down his face. There were amateur paramedics at the scene but they hadn’t bothered to remove him from his vehicle. The friends feared the worst for him. They continued on their journey in the most reverent of moods. <br /><br /><br />“Guys, do you think everything that has happened today is connected to this puzzle we’re trying to solve?” Dami said, breaking the eerie silence that had filled the vehicle.<br /><br /><br />“They probably are,” Deji responded, “I am a bit surprised that we weren’t held for questioning immediately or that we didn’t at least get a police escort back home”.<br /><br /><br />“That’s true,” Afua added. “Since we don’t have a Bible on us, does anyone know what Judges 7:7 says from memory?”<br /><br /><br />“We should be asking you that,” Samuel said, making eye contact with her through his rear view mirror. “Wait a minute guys, can’t we check on the internet from one of our phones? Why didn’t we think of that before?”<br /><br /><br />“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Deji responded, “we’ve been out of any Wi-Fi network coverage since we left San José in the morning.” By this time they had descended from the mountains and were nearing their final destination. As Deji spoke, they passed a sign post which said 7km to San José. He checked his phone. There was no coverage yet. After looking at the time he exclaimed, “Samuel, I think you need to step on it. It’s seven minutes to seven!”<br /><br /><br />Samuel put his foot on the gas, and Deji constantly kept rechecking his phone, waiting impatiently for the precise moment it would reconnect to the internet. 5 minutes later, as they approached the city centre, he got connected.<br /><br /><br />“Quick,” Deji said, where do I need to go?”<br /><br /><br />“Try Biblegateway.com,” Afua responded frantically, “type in Judges 7:7 and hit search!”<br /><br /><br />It took him seconds to enter the website and punch in the scripture. “OK, I’ve got it! This is what is says,” He read the scripture out loud – The LORD said to Gideon, "With the three hundred men that lapped I will save you and give the Midianites into your hands. Let all the other men go, each to his own place."*<br /><br /><br />“So what does that mean?” Dami asked. They all looked at each other and silence once again engulfed the jeep. It lasted only moments as the silence was broken by the high pitched shrill of the alarm on Deji’s phone.<br /><br /><br />“Is that the alarm for 7pm?” Samuel asked as he looked back towards Deji.<br /><br /><br />Before Deji could answer, Dami screamed “Samuel, look out! There’s a...” <br /><br /><br />But she wasn’t able to finish her sentence. In the split second that Samuel had taken his eye off the road, another car jumping the red light at the intersection was about to collide straight into them from the left. Samuel managed to swerve sharply but they skidded, hit the central reservation and were thrown into the air.<br /><br /><br />They say when you are about to die your life flashes before your eyes. As the car spun in the air, they seemed for a moment suspended in time. It wasn’t so much a flash that Samuel saw, but rather like a slow movie reel cutting from one shot of his all too short life to the next. And then there was impact! The Prado jeep hit the floor and rolled over several times before coming to rest in a ditch by the road side. Samuel turned to look up as he felt something warm trickle down his face. All he could see was bright white lights.<br />When Samuel opened his eyes, he looked up. He was in a white room. He looked down and saw that he was wearing a white robe. He tried to move but he couldn’t. It was just when he was beginning to wonder if he was in heaven and why his head hurt so much if he was that he heard a familiar voice.<br /><br /><br />“Samuel, how are you feeling?” It was Dami. He turned his head and saw her sitting at his bedside. He may not be in heaven yet, but she was the one person he would have liked to wake up beside.<br /><br /><br />“Where am I?” he asked as he tried to sit up.<br /><br /><br />“You’re in hospital,” Dami responded, “don’t try to get up, you were hurt pretty badly.” She gently placed her hand on his arm to restrain him.<br /><br /><br />“How long have I been here for?”<br /><br /><br />She hesitated before she responded, “…just a couple of days. You were in a critical condition, but your progress has been great.”<br /><br /><br />His head was still throbbing. “How about Deji and Afua, how are they doing?”<br /><br /><br />“They’re fine. They escaped the accident with minor injuries. We’ve been taking it in turns to sit with you.”<br /><br /><br />Samuel closed his eyes for a moment and then looked up again. “How about you, how are you feeling?”<br /><br /><br />“I was pretty shaken, but I’m doing okay.”<br /><br /><br />Samuel smiled as their eyes met. “I’m glad you’re okay.” Dami smiled back and then there was an awkward pause as Samuel’s penetrating gaze caught her slightly off guard.<br /><br /><br />“Look, I’ll be right back,” she said, looking away. “I need to let the nurses know that you’ve woken up.”<br /><br /><br />“Wait…before you go, there is so much I want to say to you that I thought I’d never get the chance to with the day we had on Saturday…” <br /><br /><br />He placed his hand into hers and squeezed it gently. Before he could continue, he felt something metallic on her ring finger. He lifted her hand up slightly to meet his line of sight to see that she was wearing a silver wedding band. A million thoughts ran through Samuel’s mind in a second. <br /><br /><br />“How long did you say I was unconscious for?” he blurted out, as she pulled her hand away in a somewhat delayed reflex action.<br /><br /><br />“Don’t worry yourself with that,” she responded as she got up to leave. “I’ll go and get the nurses…”<br /><br /><br />“No, wait!” Samuel looked to his right and saw a newspaper sitting on the coffee table. “Could you pass me that paper?”<br /><br /><br />Dami was hesitant once again. <br /><br /><br />“Please pass me the newspaper or I’ll get up and get it myself!” he said raising his voice slightly as he started to become visibly distressed. <br /><br /><br />She reluctantly passed him the broadsheet and his eyes shot straight to the top right hand corner. Tuesday July 7 2009. His head was spinning. He closed his eyes as he struggled to digest what he’d just seen. He looked up at her again. He tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. She held his hand again as his vision slowly blurred and he drifted into unconsciousness.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />What happened during those missing two years? Find out next week as the story continues in 777 – Bourne Again!!!MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-51657739775802724702008-04-20T09:24:00.000-07:002008-04-20T09:26:32.228-07:00777 - The Return from QueposThe black Prado Land cruiser finally pulled up by the beach in Quepos. Afua, Dami, Deji and Samuel piled out of the jeep. As they stretched their legs from their long journey, they were met by the locals of the small beach town who immediately tried to sell them everything from jewellery to tour guides. But they were preoccupied by other thoughts. They waited some 15 minutes but there was no sign of Daniel, Brenda and Belinda in the silver Honda. They had taken a wrong turn soon after they left San José on the four hour trip to Quepos. Deji pulled out his cell phone and checked it. He had reception. He dialled Daniel’s number... <br /><br />The date was 07/07/07. The seven friends had flown to Costa Rica on a Boeing 777 and the boys were staying in room 777 at the San José Marriott. They had risen at 7am that morning and paid $77.70 for gas for the trip to Quepos. While they may have ordinarily dismissed the recurrence of the number seven as freak coincidences, they could not dismiss the fact that Afua had a dream the night before predicting doom if they did not solve “the riddle” by 7pm. And Afua never dreamt amiss. Well, almost never. <br /><br />Daniel picked up the call. “Hello?” <br /><br />“Hi Daniel, its Deji. Where are you guys?” <br /><br />“Well, we got lost. It took us almost 2 hours to get back on the road to Quepos. When we got to the mountains, Brenda and Belinda insisted we turn back! We’ve been hanging out in San José since.” <br /><br />“Okay, please do me a favour – can you find a Bible and check what Judges 7:7 says?” <br /><br />“Why? What do you need that for?” <br /><br />“I’ll explain later. Please can you just check it and call me back?” <br /><br />“Sure, will do.” <br /><br />Samuel looked at his watch. 12 noon. They had exactly seven hours to find the scripture and figure out what it meant. Samuel spoke to a few of the locals in Spanish to find out where they could find a Bible. Afua, Dami and Deji tried their best to be useful – they went round to anyone they thought might understand their Spanglish saying “Biblia?” while holding out their hands in a book shape! Eventually Samuel came back to them. “Guys, I think we’re in luck, one of the tour guides said there is a church down the road” <br /><br />The friends got back into the land cruiser and before long they had whisked themselves down the road, along the full stretch of the beach and to the bottom of a hill where they found a small church. They walked into the small brick building with a thatched roof. It seemed deserted. They couldn’t find a soul inside but they did find a few Bibles scattered on the benches not very far from the pulpit. Samuel picked one up to flick straight to Judges, but to his dismay, it had only the New Testament! He checked one after the other – they were all New Testament only. They went back to the beach but tried as they may, they couldn’t put the day’s events out of their minds and enjoy themselves. <br /><br />“I just tried calling Daniel back, but there was no response,” Deji said, as they lay on their towels a few metres away from the sea shore. <br /><br />“Let’s start getting back,” Samuel responded, “it’s obvious that’s all we’re going to be thinking about all day!” <br /><br />It was unanimously agreed that Samuel would drive back, even though Dami had driven them to Quepos, given the dangerous nature of the mountain roads which they had to face once again. Samuel was the far more experienced driver and nobody wanted a repeat of the widespread panic that Dami had exhibited behind the wheel at 10,000 feet! Samuel sped down the highway towards the mountains as quickly as they could. They knew that navigating the mountain roads when it started getting dark was a proposition that none of them wanted to face. <br /><br />It took them less than an hour to get close to the mountains. However as they approached they suddenly heard sirens behind them. Samuel looked in his rear view mirror and could see what looked like a police vehicle fast approaching them. <br />“It looks like they’re asking us to pull over,” Afua said, “what should we do?” <br />“Pull over of course,” Dami said, “it’s not like we’ve done anything wrong. Just remain calm and we’ll be fine. Samuel, you do the talking!” <br /><br />Samuel pulled the Jeep over and the police car stopped a few metres behind them. Two men emerged from the vehicle wearing uniforms that likened them more to army officers than policemen. One stayed by their vehicle, while the other, hand near his hip, approached the land cruiser cautiously. Samuel wound down his window as the officer approached. The others looked on in silence as a conversation with the officer in Spanish ensued. After a couple of minutes Samuel reached for the globe compartment and handed the man some documents. <br /><br />“What did he say?” Afua asked as the man walked back to his vehicle, “I hope everything is OK?” <br /><br />“He said we were speeding. I tried to explain we were trying to get back to San José before dark. Anyway, he’s checking my driver’s license now.” <br /><br />“Will they accept your UK license here?” Dami asked. <br /><br />“They should do,” Deji replied, “I guess we’re about to find out.” <br /><br />When the man returned his conversation with Samuel was much briefer. He didn’t hand Samuel back his papers, and the look on Samuel’s face worried his friends. <br />“What’s the matter?” Afua asked. <br /><br />“Well, they’re not satisfied with my UK license; they want us to come down to the station!” <br /><br />Samuel started the car and followed the police to a quaint little town called Jacó. When they arrived at the police station, they were surprised by how run down it looked. They were led through the front door and into the reception where they were motioned to sit on benches packed with dozens of other people who seemed to be waiting their turn to report or resolve one altercation or another. On the right of the room towards the back, there was a corridor leading jail cells which were visible from the reception – they could tell they were packed with prisoners and very noisy too. It appeared no one here could speak English. Samuel was left to do all the talking. He had a few words with an officer by the counter while the others were seated. At this point the group was fully dependent on him to get them out of this mess! <br /><br />Afua shifted uncomfortably on the bench, sandwiched between a woman twice her size and a man sweating through his pores like he was in a sauna. She needed any excuse to leave the bench. “Samuel, I need to go to the bathroom. Can you ask them where it is?” <br /><br />After Samuel said a few words to the man behind the counter, he motioned towards and open door on the left of the room which led to a long corridor. She found the bathroom at the end of the corridor on the left. There was no door, just a large entrance where a double door should have been. She was sure that she must have walked into the gents because all she could see were three urinals lined up next to each other against the wall. She checked again but there seemed to be no ladies room. Perhaps no female inmates, she thought. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved by that or terrified! She was still deep in thought when she heard a noise from the other side of the restroom. She noticed a small crack in the wall so she went to take a look. <br />She peered through the crack in the wall to see a hidden room, and there were lots of people. At first she couldn’t make out what they were doing but then suddenly it became startlingly clear to her. Oh my goodness, she thought as she ran as fast as she could back to the reception. <br /><br />“Guys, we need to get out of here. I don’t think this is a police station at all...” <br /><br />“Of course this isn’t a police station,” she was interrupted by a husky deep voice. <br />Silence descended on the room as a tall man walked into the room from the corridor Afua had just fled. He was dressed in a sharp grey pin striped suit and red tie, had a visibly deep scar running all the way across his left cheek to his lower jawbone, and towered above almost everyone in the room. He was intimidating to say the least, and he spoke perfect English, though in a deep Hispanic accent. <br /><br />“Samuel, I’m disappointed,” he said, breaking the brief silence his entrance and profound revelation had caused. “I thought you would have figured that much out by now.” <br /><br />The friends were dumbfounded. Samuel startled. How did this man know his name? <br />“Okay, I don’t know what type of sick game this is,” Samuel said, “but it needs to end now!” <br /><br />“Of course this is a game – and it’s only the beginning. And the four of you are my little helpless pawns in this game!” <br />He motioned to the people sitting on the packed bench and they got up, picked up their belongings and hurriedly left. He spoke to his “policemen” who grabbed Deji and Samuel, handcuffed them and started to take them away. <br /><br />“I saw what you’re really doing back there,” Afua shouted, “You’re not going to get away with it!” <br /><br />“In case you didn’t realise,” he retorted, “I already have, and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do about it!”<br /><br />“Drug trafficking is a serious crime,” Afua shot back, “and now you’re about to add kidnapping to your list of offences! Look, we’re British citizens. Our government will find us and then your petty drug peddling is going to be shut down!” <br /><br />“Actually,” Dami tried to speak to Afua with a whisper, “Deji and I are not red passport holders; we only have the green of Nigeria!” <br /><br />Ouch, Deji thought as he was being led away. He could see the headlines on the morning news back home – ‘Two Britons have been kidnapped in Costa Rica, The British consulate is doing everything in its power to negotiate the release of its citizens. They’re being held with an unknown number of other hostages whose nationalities have not been identified!’ <br /><br />Samuel wanted to shout to the girls not to worry and that everything would be fine, but of course he didn’t know if that was true. Two men who were big enough to be sumo wrestlers, yet built enough to be bouncers, took Deji and Samuel to an empty cell, threw them in and locked the door behind them. They were locked up for a while so they had time to contemplate their dire situation. <br /><br />After conversing for an hour or so Deji said “So how do you think this will play out?” <br />“I have no idea,” Samuel responded. “This is absolutely crazy! Do you think this has anything to do with the July 7 bombings in London?” <br /><br />Before Deji could respond, there was a loud explosion! The cell they were in shook violently, the lights went out, and before they knew it, they could hear gun shots. Machine guns. The rounds of shooting went on for what seemed like an eternity. Samuel and Deji buried their heads under the bed as they could see rounds of fire fly past the door of their cell. After about 10 minutes, there was a brief respite. The shooting stopped. They pulled their heads out from their hiding place to assess the situation but suddenly there was another explosion at the entrance to their cell. It startled them, but it was a more controlled explosion than the first one. The door of the cell flew open, and men, dressed in black commando gear trooped in. Samuel and Deji looked at each other in bewilderment. They were picked up and led out of the room by the men in black! <br /><br />Look out next week for the next instalment of the 777 saga. Will the friends make it back to San José before 7pm? Will they finally solve the 777 riddle? Who is the scar-faced drug cartel baron and who are the mysterious men in black? Find out next week in 777 – The Final Destination!MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-59582150428370655962008-04-13T02:55:00.001-07:002008-04-13T02:55:35.025-07:00777 - The Road to QueposSamuel, Dami and their friends are in the third and final day of their Costa Rican holiday. Based in the capital San José, they’re preparing for a day long trip to the beach in Quepos, a small town about four hours’ drive away. Little did they know they were in for the trip of a lifetime - literally…<br />It was the 7th of July and deep in the hurricane season in Central America. Samuel was awakened by the loud banging on the door of room 777 of the San José Marriott. He rolled over and looked across him to see Deji and Daniel still lying in bed. He glanced at his wrist watch. 7.07am. He gazed into space as he tried to snooze and seemed deep in thought until he was snapped out of his slumber by the persistent knocking. He lazily dragged himself out of bed, walked to the door and looked through the peep hole. It was Dami. She looks so different from when she’s in her work clothes, he thought. She was a bit of a workaholic so he rarely saw her dressing casually. He couldn’t help but feel that her business wear didn’t do her enough justice. She had an unassuming, subtle beauty which could have easily been lost on a less observant guy. As he reached for the door knob to open it, he realised that he probably didn’t want her to see him in his current state, having just crawled out of bed. <br />“Who is it?” he called out.<br />“It’s Dami. Are you still in bed? We’ve been ringing your room for the past hour – aren’t you guys coming anymore?”<br />“Of course we’re coming, we’re almost ready”, came the easy lie.<br />“Fine,” Dami paused, “just hurry up okay. We were meant to leave at 7am so we’re already late as it is!”<br />As Dami walked away, she had to restrain herself from going back and beating the door down with a rain of insults – these guys clearly had no concept of time!<br />While Dami and the other girls waited in the lobby, Samuel got the other guys up. After briefly contemplating sleeping in and spoiling the party, they eventually got their act together and hurriedly joined the ladies at 7.30. The valet attendants brought their rental cars round and they were ready to leave. While Afua, Dami, Deji and Samuel poured into the black 4X4 Prado Landcruiser, Daniel and twin sisters Brenda and Belinda got into the silver Honda Accord. Dami and Daniel were the designated drivers, though Dami had only gotten the chance to drive after throwing a tantrum about the guys not wanting the girls to drive. That was just sexist, she thought.<br />“We’re not trying to be sexist,” Samuel said as he climbed into the passenger seat, as if he had read her thoughts in that moment, “you only got your license six months ago so you should be very careful with driving on the right side of the road and on a different continent.”<br />They made their first stop at the petrol station to fill up their tanks before embarking on their road trip. After pulling in, Dami parked the car by the gas pump and switched off the engine. “Sam, can you do the honours?” she asked turning to him on her right. He looked right back at her wordlessly , almost in silent frustration, then he turned his head and glanced at Deji and Afua in the back seat with their hands clutched together. Heaving a sigh of acceptance, he got out of the car to speak to the attendants filling their tanks up. Being the only Spanish speaker in the group, he’d spent the past three days doing everything for the group. He was just about fed up of this but figured he’d just bear his cross for the final day. After paying the clerk, he pocketed the change and took a look at the receipt as he got back into the jeep. $77.70. He thought there was something peculiar about the bill but dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it had come.<br />“What’s wrong?” Dami asked him as she started up the car, “You look puzzled.”<br />“It’s nothing. I thought I noticed something but it was nothing.”<br />Before long they were on their way out of San José city centre but it didn’t take much longer for the two cars to get separated. Daniel had taken the lead but he missed the exit clearly signed posted to Quepos. Luckily, Dami spotted it just in the nick of time and turned off the dual carriageway. After waiting in vain for a few minutes for the Honda to find them, they realised they had no choice but to go it alone. Their phones were no longer in the coverage area so they had no option but to hope they’d meet their friends at their final destination. As they settled into the road trip, the guys recounted the events of the night before. <br />“Samuel insisted on checking out the clubs in Costa Rica,” Deji chuckled, “so we went to La Rhumba while you ladies were in the spa.”<br />“And how was it?” Dami asked.<br />“It was fine,” Samuel responded swiftly.<br />“Just fine? Deji shot back, Samuel just left Daniel and I standing there while he went to chat up the Costa Rican ladies in Spanish!”<br />“So how did that go?” Afua asked giggling.<br />“Well,” Deji continued, “it was quite funny because he got chatting to and dancing with this J-Lo lookalike. Everything seemed fine until she whispered something in his ear. Before we knew it he grabbed us and we were heading for the exit!”<br />“What did she say to you?” Dami asked, glancing in Samuel’s direction while keeping one eye on the road. <br />“She gave me her phone number and then asked if I wanted to go home with her!”<br />“Okay, so is that why you had to leave the club altogether?”<br />“Well, if you knew where I was coming from, you’d understand why we had to leave immediately!”<br />In the past. Samuel had had what he’d call a woman problem. Born to an estranged Equatoguinean father and raised by his Nigerian mother in London, as a teenager he wooed many an unsuspecting girl with his Afro-Latin charm. When he became a Christian, he couldn’t understand why he persisted in many of his old habits so now he made it a point to flee from temptation whenever possible.<br />As the friends continued on their journey, the road started to narrow and get windier. Also, they hardly realised the slow but steady ascent they were making from ground level. For a while they were bordered by hilly terrain and rocks on either side of the road so they were unable to see their true altitude. When they turned a corner near the peak of their ascent, the terrain suddenly opened up and on either side all they could see for miles were deep valleys on either side of them. There was no hard shoulder, a single narrow lane in either direction and barely a barbed wire fence on either side that would surely not keep anyone who wanted to from making a precipitous dive off the side of the mountain! The mood in the car which had been joyful and playful only moments ago quickly turned to one of sobriety and deep thought. You could hear a pin drop. Their astonishment at the magnificence of the scenery lasted only moments before it was replaced by acute fear and anxiety in the realisation that their lives were on a knife-edge, suspended in mid-air, on a remote mountain road a long way from home. It was like the moment the wily coyote confidently chasing the road runner across the mountains suddenly realised that he could indeed not run on thin air! Samuel saw that Dami was clearly shaken so he broke the brief silence.<br />“Dami, look straight ahead. Whatever you do, don’t look left or right!”<br />“Yes,” Deji agreed, “keep your eyes fixed firmly on the road!”<br />Dami however was fretting. “Can we stop or turn back? Can one of you guys take the wheel? I’m feeling a bit dizzy, I’m not sure I can do this!”<br />“What?!” Afua panicked, “you want us to stop in mid-air?”<br />“Calm down,” Samuel cut in, “Dami, it’s a bit late for that now. We can’t stop here and the road is too narrow to do a U-turn. Don’t worry; we’ll get through this...”<br />“Next time,” Deji muttered under his breath, “You’ll listen to us when we tell you not to drive.”<br />That’s if there will be a next time, Dami thought.<br />“Chill out, Deji,” Samuel said, “now is not the time for I told you so’s”<br />As they continued their passage through the narrow mountain roads, Samuel couldn’t help but spare a thought for their friends who were most certain to encounter the same cliff-hanging roads not far behind them. Their descent from the hills was equally as slow as the ascent, but soon enough they reached the foot of the mountains on the other side. They would soon arrive at their destination. The first notice of the distance to Quepos clearly signposted caught Samuel’s eye. QUEPOS – 77 KILOMETROS. <br />“That’s interesting.” He was thinking out loud now, “I’ve been seeing the numbers 7 or 77 all day long and I’m beginning to wonder if it is more than just a coincidence.”<br />“What do you mean?” Deji asked.<br />“Well, when we filled the tanks up before leaving we paid $77.70 and I just saw a sign saying 77km to Quepos. Oh, and our room number at the hotel is 777. I have a feeling someone is trying to tell us something.”<br />“Come on,” Dami blurted out, “don’t be absurd! Soon you’ll be telling me that since there are seven of us on this trip, that’s a sign too, or that our flight number to Costa Rica was 777!”<br />“Actually,” Afua responded pensively, “Our plane was a Boeing 777 from Miami. I did think it was unusual to have such a big plane on a short haul flight...”<br />“Not that I’m superstitious,” Deji added, “but today is the 7th of July 2007. That’s another triple seven right there. Maybe it does mean something. What’s the significance of today’s date?”<br />“Well,” Dami said, “it’s the two year anniversary of the London bombings, but I can’t see how that’s relevant here. We’re thousands of miles from London and I doubt anything here is going to be a target for terrorists.”<br />There was a brief silence as they all digested the deluge of information, but Afua soon broke the silence. “I had a dream last night. The details were a bit fuzzy, but there was a man whose face I couldn’t see. He said that something would happen today at 7pm unless we solved the riddle. Obviously it didn’t make any sense to me then but now it is beginning to make perfect sense!”<br />“Okay,” Dami said, “now you’re starting to freak me out!”<br />“Afua, assuming that you and Sam are correct,” Deji started in the logical fashion that only he could, “we have a riddle to solve which somehow relates to the number 777 and we have until 7pm today to solve it or else something bad is going to happen?”<br />“It would appear so,” Samuel responded, “I’ve known Afua for a while and her dreams are known to come to pass...”<br />“Really,” Dami retorted sarcastically, “what about the dream of the plane crash she had while we were on the plane to Miami? Thank goodness that one didn’t come true!”<br />As much as Deji didn’t want to believe something he thought to be so farfetched, he knew that his girlfriend was a dreamer – ignore her visions at your peril. He glanced at his watch. 11.07am. “Look guys, let’s not squabble about this. We still have nearly eight hours until 7pm. By that time we’ll be home and dry, back in our hotel rooms and out of harm’s way. Besides, that should be enough time for us to figure out this riddle.”<br />They continued in relative silence as they racked their brains as to what these cryptic clues could mean. As they approached Quepos, Afua’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Isn’t there something in the Bible about forgiving your brother 77 times?”<br />Samuel turned to look back at her, paused for a minute, and then responded. “Isn’t that 70 times 7 – so 490 times?”<br />“It doesn’t matter which one it is,” she continued, “I think we’re all meant to forgive the grudges we hold before the proverbial sun goes down on our anger. So what do you guys need to confess?”<br />“I don’t know,” Dami started, “perhaps I need to forgive an ex-boyfriend?”<br />“Where do I start,” Deji added, “there is a long list of people I have issues with!”<br />“Hold up guys,” Samuel interrupted, “Even if it is 77 times, there is one seven missing. Besides, I think it’s got to be something more specific than that!”<br />After a long pause, the Landcruiser began to approach a truck in the distance. As they got closer, the small poster sign at the back of the heavy duty vehicle came into focus. It was in English. THE BIBLE HAS THE ANSWERS. <br />As they overtook the long vehicle, Deji and Samuel exclaimed almost simultaneously, “What if it’s a verse in the Bible?”<br />“So you guys think its verse 7 of chapter 7 of a book in the Bible?” Dami tried to contain her excitement as she spoke. If this was the X-Files, she’d definitely be Scully! “What’s the 7th book in the Bible?”<br />Afua counted with her fingers for a few seconds before responding. “It’s got to be Joshua. No wait...actually it’s Judges, I’m pretty certain about that.”<br />“Okay, so who has a Bible?” asked Deji, “What does Judges 7:7 say?”<br />“Come on, who takes a Bible on a road trip?” Dami responded, “We’ll have to find one when we get to the beach.”<br />They could now see Quepos in the distance. Dami put her foot on the gas to get there as quickly as possible. They were very close to finding the answers they were looking for. They could just feel it.<br />Will our four friends find what they are looking for in Quepos? Will they be reunited with their other friends? Will they make it back safely across the death defying mountain roads to San José? And will they solve the riddle before 7pm? Find out all this and more, next week , in the 777 - The Return to Quepos!MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-89221072343372246332008-04-13T02:19:00.000-07:002008-04-13T03:08:05.886-07:00777 - The Saga Begins...Hi All!<br />Welcome back to my blog! It's been hibernation for a while, but consider this the ressurection! While you may have previously been accustomed to receiving travel journals from me, I got a bit bored of writing them (and I'm sure you got a bit tired of reading the A,B,C's of what I did on holiday), so about six months ago, I decided to try my hand at fiction! After a crazy group holiday in Costa Rica (there was about 16 of us!), I thought why not fictionalise the events that transpired and see where it leads? Well, the story has since grown wings of it's own, so now I present to you 777 - The Saga Begins...<br /><br />So what's this story about exactly? Well, keep visiting my blog to find out! Starting today, I will be posting 1 part of the Quintology every week on Sunday! I must warn you, one of my television staple foods is the show "Lost", and I would say my approach to this story is very similar to the story-telling approach used in Lost - as the story unravels, there are generally more questions posed to you than the answers to previous mysteries that you'd be searching for! Some of my other influences from TV include shows like Alias, Heroes, and 24, so also watch out for similar themes in the 777 tale as the saga unravels...<br /><br />4 parts of the 5-part story have already been published in the January to April editions of Outflow, the monthly magazine for Jesus House. For my Outflow readers, who would surely be logging on today to catch the final part, please be patient! Come back in a month when the final part will be released (expected release date 11May08)! In the meantime, join us on the ride if you missed any parts, and please feel free to post your comments after each posting here. (NO SPOILERS ON FUTURE EDITIONS PLEASE!)<br /><br />For everyone else, please fasten your seatbelt and enjoy the ride!!! 777 will form the basis of a book idea I've love to explore in the future, so please drop your comments as we go along - your feedback would be invaluable!MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-24347763578828008282008-04-13T02:16:00.000-07:002008-04-13T02:19:10.512-07:00Final Destination (published Nov07)Turbulence. Every flyer’s hidden fear. Well, not exactly. The real fear flyers have is falling out of the sky and not being able to do anything about it. In other words, the fear of meeting one’s abrupt, untimely demise. On a recent trip to Costa Rica via Miami on holiday with friends, Deji and Afua are forced to confront their fear of flying head on, on a flight which may well be their final one....<br /><br />This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between the characters depicted and real people or similarities between the events that transpire and real life events are purely coincidental…<br /><br />Deji scrambled out of bed at the sound of his alarm. He had barely gotten two hours of sleep but he was very alert – he knew that he had a plane to catch. After aimlessly throwing clothes in and out of his suitcase, he called for a cab to pick him up and before long he was on his way to Dami’s house, where his friends were meeting up to make their way to the airport.<br />“Hi Dami, its Deji here.”<br />“Where are you? Don’t you realise that we need to be at Heathrow by 7am?”<br />“I know, I know. I’m already on my way. How about Afua and Samuel, are they ready?”<br />“Yes, don’t worry about them, just get your butt over here already.”<br />“Chill out okay, I’ll be there in 15 minutes”<br />“Don’t tell me to chill out, everyone is ready and our taxi will be here in 10 minutes! If you’re not here on time we will...”<br />‘That Deji guy can be real annoying sometimes,’ Dami thought, ’How dare he just hang up on me like that!’. She got over it very quickly and went back about her business of making sure everyone else was ready and everything was set. <br />As soon as Deji arrived, they hurled his luggage into their taxi and set off for the airport. On the way they recounted the events of the night before:<br />“Afua, G Factor was fantastic, you guys did a great job,” Samuel said.<br />“Yes,” Deji agreed, “your team did a good job, though I really think that Chidinma should have won!”<br />“Well, I think Wanda really deserved to win,” Dami interjected, “but I wish that guy had won, he was so hot!”<br />Afua was a leader in their single’s ministry at Christ’s Chapel. She had just successfully organised their first ever gospel talent show the previous evening. She used to be a well known glamour model on the London scene, so it caused quite a storm when she converted and decided to cut short her promising modelling career. She now worked for a charity dedicated to providing for needy children in Africa but it seemed like everything she touched in church turned to gold. Many a guy had come to church because of her and ended up finding Christ instead! Most of these guys decided to move on when she started dating Deji a few months back. <br /> They arrived at the airport soon enough. It was while they were at the gate waiting to board the plane that Afua raised her fears about flying.<br />“Guys, can we say a short prayer before we board the plane? I haven’t been on a plane in four years and I’m a bit nervous about it...”<br />“Okay,” Deji said reluctantly. He felt that it wasn’t the time to start voicing fears about flying. “Do you want to lead us in prayer?”<br />“Fine, can we join hands? Lord our heavenly Father, we thank you that we are alive today;You have the whole world in your hands. You keep the planes in the sky. We pray for journey mercies...” <br />On she went for a couple of minutes. And then suddenly it happened. <br />“Ba ka ra shey ma ti fah rah ka la, rah ta ka rah ta ka rah ta ka...” <br />Deji looked up with raised eyebrows. Everyone else had their eyes firmly shut and focused on the prayer. He remained calm until she finished but determined to ask her privately about the exuberance of her prayer before they boarded.<br />“I thought that you didn’t have any issues with speaking in tongues?” <br />“Yes I know, but do you have to do it so loudly in public?” he responded, almost whispering. <br />“Why not? Is it something that we should be ashamed about?”<br />“Okay, I know it isn’t, but you shouldn’t start scaring other passengers about to board.”<br />“Why are you being so insensitive about this?”<br />“I’m not. Besides, it is just a plane. People fly everyday. It’s unreasonable for you to think that something will happen to the one plane you’re getting on!”<br />Deji used to be quite blunt, brash and insensitive. Though he had been delivered from this, he still had some momentary relapses. Besides, he reckoned that despite being a Christian he needed to retain the ruthless streak that helped him snap up a job as a high-flying city trader with Goldman Sachs. And even though he didn’t mind hyper-spiritual, tongue-speaking Christians, he just felt that wasn’t for him. He was much too logical for that!<br />Nevertheless, this particular relapse cost him his seat next to her on the flight. She opted to sit with Dami, leaving him next to Samuel.. <br />As they took their seats in the middle section of the plane, a gentleman already seated in front of them was flicking through the Sunday Times magazine. Deji was quick to notice one particular page, which had the title “Speaking in Different Tongues” spread across in bold letters. As much as he tried to dismiss this obvious coincidence, he couldn’t help pondering upon what the article said and he spent the early part of the flight wondering if it would be rude to lean over and ask for the magazine once the gentleman was done.<br />“So what do you do you do for a living?” he said, turning to Samuel.<br />“Well, I’m into photography,” Samuel replied. “I do mostly freelance stuff. In fact I knew Afua from her modelling days, which is how she ended up drafting me into G Factor to help with the photo shoots.”<br />“Yeah, she tells me that you’re our Spanish meal ticket when we get to Costa Rica. How did you learn the language?”<br />“My father is actually from Equatorial Guinea. I spent a few years there before moving with my mum to Nigeria.”<br />“They speak Spanish over there?”<br />“Yes. Actually it’s the only African country where Spanish is spoken....”<br />As Deji’s Afro-Spanish education continued, Afua tried to calm her frazzled nerves. She had given up trying to make conversation with Dami, who was deeply engrossed in her copy of the Financial Times, so she passed the time listening to her iPod and flicking through the movies on the in-flight entertainment. The flight was relatively uneventful until they ran into turbulence about an hour before arriving in Miami, their first stop-off point. <br />The plane began to jolt up and down violently, and Afua clutched onto her seat tightly. She started getting that horrible sinking feeling that she used to get whenever she was on a roller coaster. She looked over at Dami but her friend seemed more concerned about the financial stock listings.<br />“Don’t worry, this isn’t unusual,” Dami said with barely a glance in Afua’s direction. “I’m always flying with work, after a while you get used to these minor bouts of turbulence.” <br />Further ahead in the cabin Deji noticed that the onset of the turbulence coincided with their passage over the Bermuda Islands and this brought to his mind the urban myths about disappearing ships and planes in the Bermuda triangle. All of a sudden his hard-as-nails macho front was tested to its limit. Like a self-fulfilling prophecy, the intensity of the turbulence began to increase, and their trays started vibrating like they were in an earthquake quickly growing in ferocity. When their cups and plates started sliding unto the floor, Deji and Samuel looked at each other and just laughed. That was all they felt they could do, not that anything was actually funny.<br />After about half an hour, the captain eventually came on over the loudspeakers. <br />“Apologies for the slight turbulence we’re experiencing at the moment. At 38,000 feet we’re just on top of the clouds and flying through some air pockets. We’re going to reduce our altitude to 30,000 feet and from then on it should be plain sailing.”<br />As reassuring as the captain tried to sound, Deji knew that their situation was direr than he was letting on. He had been on enough flights to know that this was out of the ordinary. As he contemplated his helplessness, he remembered the article he had caught a glimpse of in the Sunday Times and realised that now was a good time as ever to find out what it said about speaking in tongues. A surprised Samuel looked on as he leaned forward to have a few words with the man in front of him, and before long he was hurriedly fumbling through the magazine as if the words of that article would have some kind redemptive power to save them from any harm. To his dismay, he had to read a full three page spread about Bruce Springsteen before he could find any relevance to the title which had caught his attention in the first place. The final sentence of the piece read, “And a line from his upcoming single Radio Nowhere reads ‘I want a million different voices speaking in tongues!’”<br />On the opposite page he found a review of a song, “Jesus Blood Never Failed Me Yet” by Gavin Bryars, and after reading and meditating on this for a few minutes, he began to pray silently. He soon realised he could not find the words to express himself. “Sha ka sha ka sha ka...” he continued under his breath, making sure that even Samuel would not hear him! <br />‘Okay, I’ve learnt my lesson,’ he thought, as he continued his prayer. ‘I’d better apologise properly to Afua when this plane lands safely!’<br />Though the last thing she could remember was trying to fall asleep as the turbulence began Afua was now feeling more nauseated with each second that passed. She pulled the sick bag out of the pouch in front of her in readiness to hurl back the tikka masala meal she had just been served. There was a thunderous clap and the plane dropped what must have been about 5,000 feet within a second! Everyone started screaming hysterically as the airbags popped out from above their seats. Afua hurriedly grabbed hers and as she fumbled it on she wished she had paid more attention to the safety video at the start of the flight. As sirens started going off and red and white lights started flashing, she looked over to Dami, who calmly fitted her own airbag over her face and went back to her broadsheet like nothing was wrong!<br />“This is your captain. We’ve been hit by a bolt of lightning. The right wing is badly damaged and we’re losing altitude very quickly. We’re going to attempt to land the plane safely as we’re only a few minutes away from the Florida coastline. Please assume the crash landing position!”<br />The captain’s words were in vain, and as the plane began to nosedive towards the ocean, Afua couldn’t help but feeling that that which she had greatly feared was about to come upon her. She let out a piercing scream which she was sure would be her last and then shut her eyes tightly in acceptance of their impending fate. Suddenly, she felt Dami tap her strongly on the shoulder and when she opened her eyes, the plane wasn’t freefalling into the sea. And it seemed like every passenger in the cabin was staring in her direction. You could literally hear a pin drop.<br />“Are you OK?” Dami asked. “You were asleep then you suddenly started screaming!”<br />She had only been dreaming. She wanted the ground to open up, or at least the emergency exit next to her so she could just disappear into the clouds! Still, though she was quite embarrassed, her overriding emotion was relief that they were still cruising at 30,000 feet. <br />A safe landing in Miami and a few uncompromisingly difficult US immigrations and customs officers later, they were met at the airport by friends from another church, Trinity House, who were also in Miami on holiday. As they recounted their experiences from the flight, Afua spoke about her bad dream. When she asked Deji how his flight was, he merely said, “It was cool, I told you there was nothing to worry about!” The apology failed to materialise.<br />The next morning, as they prepared to catch their flight to Costa Rica, their final destination, Deji and Samuel turned on their hotel room TV and the local weather forecast made for frightening reading. “Heavy rains in downtown Miami and tropical storms in the Florida Keys area are making both road and air travel very dangerous at the moment. Gale force winds exceeding 60mph means that we have a category one storm on our hands. Our advice is, if you don’t need to go out anywhere today, stay at home!” <br />“Next time,” Samuel muttered with dripping sarcasm, “it would be wise for us not to schedule a Caribbean holiday bang in the middle of the hurricane season!”<br />Deji agreed, and as they headed to the airport he wondered whether this flight would be their final one, and he prayed for a sign – anything – that would give them good reason not to board the plane to Costa Rica!MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-69260237654660634742008-04-13T01:36:00.000-07:002008-04-13T01:40:58.250-07:00How to Miss a Flight in Madrid! (published Dec07)After the last debacle in which you nearly missed your flight to Madrid, one would have thought that you had definitely learnt your lesson, but on the evidence of the following, there’s certainly no stopping you....<br /><br />Air France Flight 4190 from Barajas Madrid to London City – ETD 7.05pm<br /><br />4.00pm – After having a typical Spanish lunch of tapas with colleagues, they advise you to leave for the airport by 4.30pm. Though it only takes 30 minutes on the metro to get there, it’s a Friday so you can’t take any chances. They remind you to go to terminal 4 for flights back to London.<br />4.05pm – There’s no way you’re visiting Madrid without popping into Zara. The £ sign on each price tag is simply replaced by a € sign, so we understand your excitement.<br />4.10pm – You’ve told yourself you only need 10 minutes to do your thing. You know which coat you’re after and a friend has asked you to get something similar for her.<br />4.16pm – You’ve found your coat but not in the right size, so you decide to pick out another one. After all, you can’t go back to London empty-handed. <br />4.30pm – Decisions, decisions. You’ve picked out three other coats you like but you don’t know which one to choose. You’re thinking about closing your eyes, pulling out the credit card and buying all three.<br />4.35pm – Meanwhile, you realise you haven’t picked out your friend’s coat. You rush to the women’s section to find something suitable.<br />4.45pm – You find a couple but there’s always something wrong. If it’s not the right size that’s missing, it’s a button that’s loose and you refuse to pay for damaged goods without getting a discount. Not that you have the time to get out the phrase book and start haggling in Spanish!<br />4.55pm – By this time, you’re frantically combing the store with the help of at least three attendants, bent on making sure your trip to Zara hasn’t been wasted.<br />5.05pm – You’re at the till now with seven jackets in tow. With the clock ticking, you remind yourself that unplanned purchases cost more than they are worth. You stick to your guns and pay for the two items you came for.<br />5.12pm – You’re running to the metro station to catch the train to the airport.<br />5.16pm – This has to be the number one thing NOT to do when you’re trying to catch a plane abroad – stop to ask a cab driver whose taxi you’re about to jump into whether it’s quicker to get to the airport by road or by metro.<br />5.20pm – Despite your driver’s assurances that there won’t be traffic, you quickly realise that you may have made the wrong choice jumping into his cab in rush hour!<br />5.45pm – Luckily for you, the congestion clears up once you’ve left the city centre and you’re glad to find that his promises of getting to the airport in 20 minutes weren’t totally empty! You head straight to terminal 4 to check in. <br />5.50pm – You can’t find your flight anywhere on the screens and your heart starts pounding when you realise that it may have been at 17:10 hours and not 7.10pm as you had thought! <br />5.51pm – You tell yourself to remain calm as a more likely explanation is that you’re in the wrong terminal. You confirm at the nearest information point that you need to be in terminal 2! Why you didn’t check this yourself online is beyond me!<br />5.55pm – You’re boarding the shuttle bus to terminal 2 ten minutes away. Incidentally, you had driven past it on the way to terminal 4.<br />6.05pm – You eventually find the Air France check-in and join the long queue. With an hour left till your flight, you’re cutting it really fine!<br />6.20pm – The unthinkable happens. You get to the front of the queue and you’re told that your flight has been cancelled! How on earth will you be back in London for the whole weekend – you have plans! You’re asked to join yet another queue to consider your options...<br />6.35pm – After patiently waiting, it’s finally your turn and you’re put on an Iberia flight to Heathrow, instead of your original destination, London City. At least you’ll be back in London tonight. <br />And guess what terminal your new flight leaves from? Yep, that’s right – terminal 4! And so the race against missing your flight begins once again...<br /><br />Iberia Flight 1871 from Barajas Madrid to London Heathrow – ETD 7.55pm<br /><br />6.50pm – You’ve taken the shuttle bus once again to get back to terminal 4 and you head straight to the Iberia check-in. <br />6.55pm – You get to the front of the queue and after handing your passport and new ticket to the attendant, he inputs your details into his system and seems to indicate that there is a problem. <br />6.56pm – You nod your ahead as if you understand his explanation in Spanish as he walks away with your passport. But you really have no idea what he just said to you.<br />6.57pm – As he walks away with your passport in hand, he takes a couple of glances back towards you and then as he turns a corner he makes a run for it!<br />6.58pm – You chuckle as you snap out of your minute-long daydream . That wouldn’t be funny at all. <br />7.10pm – After nearly 15 minutes, you’re really beginning to get anxious about your passport. You’re about to shout over to one of his colleagues when he finally reappears. <br />7.11pm – He explains that your e-ticket wasn’t transferred properly by Air France. When you wave your paper ticket at him again, he takes it and disappears again with your passport. <br />7.15pm – This time, as he returns he gives you a thumbs up, which you’re sure must be a positive signal even in Spanish!<br />7.16pm – He gives you your boarding pass and as you walk off, he shrugs his shoulders apologetic and appears to say something to the effect of “Well, blame it on the French!”<br />7.25pm – You’ve safely navigated customs and with half an hour to go you’ve got ample time to spare – or so you think.<br />7.26pm – As you enter the departure lounge, the first store you see as you look to your left is Zara! It must be fate. Now you can get the coat that you initially wanted.<br />7.35pm – You’ve found some new styles that you hadn’t seen before and your indecision sets in again as you’re unsure which ones to settle for.<br />7.40pm – You’re still trying to make up your mind when you realise that with 15 minutes to take off, you still haven’t checked which is your departure gate, or indeed how far away you are from it!<br />7.41pm – You hear a voice telling you “It’s a trap, leave now, don’t look back!” You realise that you’re not going to make any exchanges and you’re still going to miss your flight.<br />7.42pm – You drop everything you’re holding and you are hurriedly fleeing the scene as images of Lot’s wife flash through your mind!<br />7.45pm – You check the big screen and now you’re making a run for it to get to your gate 10 minutes away, unsure of whether it’s even closed already.<br />7.55pm – You arrive at the gate, certain that you’ll have to beg to be let unto the plane. Luckily for you, boarding hasn’t started and everyone’s still waiting at the gate. <br />8.20pm – You should be relieved that you’ve made it but instead you’re annoyed because you could have done all the shopping you wanted without hurrying yourself!<br />As you board the plane which is now nearly an hour late, you’re ushered to your seat in business class – thanks to the gaff you were upgraded. As you enjoy the first class treatment on the flight back home you think that you could get used to this. Just make sure you don’t get too used to nearly missing your flight!MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-38110848784567188952007-06-04T13:24:00.000-07:002007-06-04T13:26:16.427-07:00How to miss a flight 5 minutes from Home!It was with great aniticipation I looked forward to my first ever flight from London City Airport - it´s just one stop away on the DLR from my home and I felt there was a certain irony in having used all the other London airports except this one. Nevertheless, I´d like to give you a step by step guide in how exactly to miss a flight 5 minutes away from home......<br /><br />Air France flight from LCY to Barajas Madrid - ETD 2.30pm Sunday<br />1. On friday, order more books than you can possibly read on your holiday from Amazon. You know you´re cutting it fine, but you´re saving more than 50 pounds by getting them online than from your local Borders.<br />2. On saturday, forget to pick up your delivery from the concierge who is only available between 9am and 12.30pm on weekends. It´s a pain, but you´ll have to pick the books on d-day.<br />3. Make sure you see your family & friends before you go. This is very important, even if it means getting home at 1am the night before your flight.<br />4. Make sure you don´t start packing until the night before. And when you do, make sure it takes the whole night to pack just one suitcase. Plus, you can´t really finish packing until you receive your package in the morning.<br />5. Wake up at 8am to get ready and wait for the concierge to arrive at 9am so that you can pick up your parcel of books. Obviously much to your annoyance he doesn´t arrive till 9.30am but you finish packing by 10am. Make sure you disregard the weight limits for your luggage (afterall 1 piece of 20kg is just ridiculous).<br />6. You´re making good time. There´s no harm in attending the 10.30 service at church 45 minutes away. It should be done by 12.30, so you should still have a couple of hours to catch the flight afterwards.<br />7. After the service, hang around in the foyer to say hi to one or two people. But don´t stay too long, you´re beginning to push it...<br />8. You´re back in East London by 1.30, you have just enough time to stop at the barbershop before heading for the airport. After all, you have no clue where you´ll find a barber in Madrid.<br />9. You walk into the barbershop knowing full well that five pounds isn´t enough to cover it.<br />10. You cheekily tell him you´re trying to catch a flight and ask him if you can pay him the difference on your next visit. Luckily, you´re a regular so he reluctantly agrees.<br />It´s 1.45pm and you´re racing to the airport. Luckily, you had enough foresight to stick your luggage in the boot before you headed to church!<br />1.55pm - you´re checking in now, make sure you play dumb like you didn´t know and look all helpless when the attendant tells you that your luggage is several kilos overweight.<br />1.57pm - Try to explain that you´re going on a "study trip" and you have a lot of books. At her request, you desperately attempt to take some books out of your suitcase to transfer to your hand luggage (which is also already overweight, I might add)<br />1.59pm - After she lets you off for making the effort, even though you´re still blantantly over the weight limit, just appear to be grateful. Actually you are grateful, after all you had already decided to pay for the excess luggage to avoid what would certainly be the greater cost of missing the flight altogether.<br />2.00pm - She checks in your suitcase and tells you that boarding begins in five minutes, but this is where it starts getting tricky - you´ve parked your car at the airport, so you have to take it back home and return on the DLR before boarding the plane.<br />2.10pm - As you pull in to your driveway, you see the next DLR to the airport pull into your station. You´ve already missed it, but you should be able catch the next one.<br />2.12pm - You haven´t eaten, so you decide to warm the burger in the fridge that you had bought the night before. You stick it in the microwave for a couple of minutes while you make sure everything in the house is turned off. Afterall you´re going away for a while, and as usual your housemate is off galavanting somewhere in Europe (don´t hate on him, unlike you, it´s all work and no play!)<br />2.16pm - You go back to your room to pick up that book on Excel you suddenly remembered you wanted to use to practise while on your break. Another hefty addition to your already overweight hand luggage.<br />2.17pm - If you run, it takes you exactly 3 minutes to get to your DLR station. You´ve taken a huge risk by guessing that the next train will be around 2.20pm. You have your 15kg hand luggage in tow so that´s bound to slow you down...<br />2.19.40 - True to form, as you approach the station you see the next DLR to the airport approaching. Only problem is there are four flights of steps to get to the platform. From experience you know if you wait for the lift which is at platform level to come down and return you to the platform, you´ve already missed the train (and consequently the flight!). On the other hand, it´s impossible to carry that rock up all those flights off steps without stopping to catch your breath...<br />2.19.50 - It takes you a second to weigh your options. Knowing that anything more would seal your fate, you start belting it up the steps with your asteroid (which you had previously been dragging by it´s wheels) in both hands.<br />2.20pm - Pure adrenalin has carried you to the platform without a pause and you literally fly into the DLR train as the doors are shutting.<br />2.22pm - You return to the airport and at first you´re not running, partly out of relief and partly because you´re still trying to catch your breath from your vertical 100m dash. But you are still about to miss your flight.<br />2.25pm - You get to customs, and as usual, they ask you to strip. You throw all your valuables and your belt into your coat pockets and put it through the X-ray machine. They ask you to take your laptop out of your tightly packed hand luggage and you sigh heavily because you´re wondering how you´re going to repack that and still get to the gate in five minutes<br />2.26pm - You hear your name blaze over the loudspeaker as a last call for flight 4841 to Madrid. Your name has seriously been butchered but there´s no doubt in your mind that it´s you. You shout to the airport attendants to tell them you´re on your way!<br />2.27pm - Luckily, they try to rush you through as they can see your total desperation. You force your laptop back into your "rucksack", and though it doesn´t zip up, you don´t care as you´re running as fast as you can to Gate 11<br />2.30pm - The Gate is further away than you´d have liked - you´re winging it down a long hallway but you´re still at Gate 5. You´re being weighed down by what now seems like three pieces of hand luggage and you see your intricately schemed plan for catching your flight slipping away. And that´s not the only thing that´s slipping. You would be hard pressed explaining to anybody at this point that you don´t normally wear your pants sagging down to your knees, it´s just that you haven´t had time to put your belt back on!<br />2.32pm - You arrive at Gate 11, but unfortunately they´ve already taken your suitcase off the plane! You´ve missed the flight, and you only live five minutes away! How stupid could you be?<br />2.33pm - Fortunately, they haven´t closed the plane doors yet, so they decide to let you on the plane and they put your suitcase back on the aircraft.<br />2.35pm - You´re finally seated and just thanking God that even though you don´t deserve to be on that plane, you still made it! He was gracious enough to let you make it....<br />2.40pm - As the doors shut you´re helplessly panting and you feel like you´re having an asthma attack or something. The last time you felt like this was after winning a 400m race at high school which you didn´t practice for! At this rate they´ll have to take you off the plane anyway!<br /><br />As the air hostesses bring you one glass of water after another to calm you down, they ask you to show them your passport and once they´ve confirmed your identity, they hand you your wallet and phone, which most certainly must have fallen out of your sagging jeans somewhere between customs and the gate. You don´t know where or how exactly they got them to you on time, but you don´t really care, you´re just extremely relieved that you didn´t get to Madrid before discovering that you had no money, no cards and no way of contacting the outside world!<br /><br />Well, I hope you´ve learnt something from this experience, make sure you don´t do it again!MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-63249424387992141402007-05-16T06:56:00.000-07:002007-05-22T10:09:35.016-07:00A Tale Of Two Cities Part II (originally sent May07)On Saturday morning, the three day For Men Only conference hosted by TD Jakes was over, and we had a day and a half to finally leave the resort in Grapevine and experience downtown Dallas. Luckily for us, we had a friend drive up from Austin and another who flew in from Pheonix to keep us company these last couple of days of our time in Texas. And on Saturday it was all about shopping! Well, it was after we had stuffed ourselves silly at the Cheesecake Factory. I am usually a twice-a-year only-out-of-necessity shopper, but recently, I’ve discovered why our female counterparts absolutely adore this exercise that I had only once considered as a rigorous chore (unpleasant memories of spending hours wandering around stores on Oxford Street as a child while my mum shopped spring to mind). I had gone shopping and enlisted the help of a lady friend in making some good picks, and I was intrigued to find that her impatience grew the more I shopped and the longer I lingered in each shop as I worked my way through the mall. When it finally hit me, it was an epiphany – ladies love shopping so much because its always for themselves! But the moment you flip the script, they start to exhibit men-like tendencies – irritability, impatience and disinterest….I also discovered that shopping can be therapeutic – I’m sure I’ve heard ladies say this for the longest time without ever truly appreciating what they meant. Anyway, I digress. Luckily, being on holiday in Dallas, our friends were more than happy for the shopping to be all about us. Unfortunately, on the only full day we had to catch the stores in Dallas, someone had to insist on getting an American fade before they left the US! Anyway, after a “brief” two hour or so interlude at “The Fade Shop”, we returned to the mall and crammed in as much last minute shopping as we could before they closed. <br /><br />After the mall shut, we went back to our hotel room to get ready for a night out on the town! This was truly the highlight of our trip…After being recommended several joints by our friends and also getting lost for a while, we eventually ended up at a Latino club call Blue. We only managed to get there fifteen minutes from the end and judging by what we met when we got in there, we might as well have not bothered at all. Even when I used to go clubbing, you would never have found me in a place like that. Grimy, slimy, “durrty south” are some adjectives that readily spring to mind. Women dancing on tabletops akin to strip clubs you’d see in the movies - being in that environment reminded me exactly what I don’t like about the clubbing scene; the smoke, the lasciviousness, half the club downing themselves into a drunken stupor, and the other half (not mutually exclusive) seemingly in a trance as they bump their heads hypnotically to a “phat beat” that admittedly many times I would describe as infectious. In Club Blue’s case, the music had a monotonous “dirty south rap” backdrop (connoisseurs of hip hop music will know what I mean) that left you begging for the exit after just about ten minutes. And we were heading for the exit soon enough. There was however enough time for one of our friends to be approached by a dodgy looking guy (heck they all looked dodgy). As he opened his mouth to speak, you could see his teeth fitted with pale metal which looked anything but precious, and you could also tell that whatever he was saying to her would be nothing but crude. After a few moments of his advances being entirely ignored, he turns to me with a drunken stench in his breath and asks, “yo, is that your girl?” I respond affirmatively to his question to get rid of him, and although I didn’t quite catch his response as he walked off, it sounded something like, “well all the girls here are fair game, but if you say she’s yours, man whatever, I’ll leave her alone!”<br /><br />It’s fair to say that on leaving Club Blue, we headed straight for the car and sped off, thanking God that we weren’t robbed, stabbed or shot at. The experience did make me marvel at why people (especially women) would subject themselves to the meat-market type treatment that is the meted out in such clubs. I was also grateful to God for the grace to be able to see beyond the lie that clubbing for a young person was a necessity when in reality it creates shackles of bondage that we unwittingly impose on ourselves by the seemingly harmless act of frequenting night clubs every Friday and Saturday night. Also, when people go on holiday it’s not unusual for them to want to have a taste of the night life in the city they visit, however recently I’ve been more interested in what the church life is like in the cities I visit. It’s fair to say that there was no way we were going to be in Dallas without paying a visit to the Potter’s House, Bishop T.D. Jakes’ 28,000 member church. And that’s exactly what we did on Sunday morning before catching our flight back to the UK later that day. We got there for the first service at 8.30am, to give ourselves enough time to do some last minute shopping before heading for the airport. As you approach on the highway, the monumental structure of the Potter’s House is the only building that can be seen in its vicinity – its presence as part of the scenery is unmistakeable. With acres and acres of land surrounding the church dedicated to the dozens of parking lots servicing church members, and bearing in mind that hardly anything in America is accessible by public transport, we’re talking about tens of thousands of parking spaces. In fact after parking, we still needed a ten minute walk to get into the building! As you can imagine a set up this massive requires an equally impressive team of traffic wardens to regulate the flow of traffic and that is exactly what they had. And if you think that Jesus House has a traffic problem then picture this – on leaving at the end of the first service, the traffic pile up to get into what I’d imagine is a more heavily attended second service (just like in JH) at 11am was overwhelming to say the least. A queue on the interstate highway stretching back for at least 45 minutes was an incredible sight which could leave no observer in doubt as to the indelible footprint this church has left on the landscape.<br /><br />Okay, enough about architecture and geography, I suppose you want to hear about the Word, the message, the sermon?? As we came into the building, I tried to use the “I’m from London” card which had already worked so many times on my trip to get us front row seats, but unfortunately we hadn’t arrived early enough so these seats had already been taken by the score of men who had also been in town for the just concluded men’s conference. As we were ushered to our front row seats on the upper balcony (great view, I must say), Bishop Joseph Garlington, the Senior Pastor of Covenant Church in Pittsburgh, was taking the pulpit to deliver the message for the day. Any initial disappointment that may have stemmed from the realisation that Bishop Jakes wasn’t about to deliver another heavy, inspiring message was alleviated as Bishop Garlington instantly captured the hearts of the crowd, breaking into a series of breathtaking worship songs which the likes of Byron Cage and Donnie McClurkin would have been proud of. After about five minutes of this, I was thinking that this guy just needed to sing the whole sermon and we would go home happy. His theme melody for the day was short and catchy, it went “Tomorrow, about this time, things are gonna change” – then he went on to explain what was keeping us from getting to our brighter, better tomorrows. Using Job 22:28-30 in several different versions (KJV,The Message, NLT) for emphasis, he explained how nothing happens in the Kingdom of God until something is said. If we have the power to make a decree, then it’s time to say something. Many times, we’re waiting for God to say something, when He is waiting for us to say something. From verse 28, we can see that although we have to do the decreeing, it is God that does the establishing, and then light shines. When we make a final decision on a matter, then God will stand with us in that decision as long as it is in line with His word. In verses 29 and 30 we see that we have the power to decree things in the lives of others who don’t understand what it means to receive things. God didn’t just save us so that we could be blessed, He saved us so that we could also bless others, and there ought to be something within us that gives us the desire to help someone else. He gives us a perfect illustration of this using the story of the Shunammite woman who Elisha decreed would have a son within a year (2 Kings 4:8-17) and then later restored the same son to life after he had died (verses 18-37). <br /><br />I could go on an on about this message but mere words would not really be able to articulate or capture the uniqueness of this experience. How Bishop Garlington seemed to burst into a catchy melody to drive home every point he made lit up the atmosphere in a special way – you’d be forgiven for thinking you were watching a show on Broadway. I’d recommend getting hold of the CD or DVD to really get a taste of what I mean. At the end of the service, as people poured out of the church into the parking lots, you could sense the blissfulness in the air. The community and family feel was undeniable with everyone making wisecracks about the humorous yet truly inspiring and uplifting message. Even the marshals sang along to the tune of “tomorrow, you’re only a day away!” as we walked towards the car to make our way to the airport via some more last minute shopping. There’s a movie called “Stranger than Fiction” I saw on the plane to Dallas in which Will Ferrell pays a man who begins to hear a narration of his everyday life in his head and soon realises that he is merely a character in a book being written about his life. He soon has to figure out what type of story he is in – a tragedy (in which he meets his untimely imminent demise) or a comedy (where he finds love and lives happily ever after). Well, as we left the Potter’s House, I couldn’t help but feel that we were in a musical with all singing and all dancing characters that were permanently in a state of euphoria. It was what you could describe as a “kodak moment”, a moment in time you just wanted to take home and frame so you could walk into your living room and behold the sight each day. The Potter’s House experience was truly an icing on the cake on a truly memorable time in Texas, including a few days in Houston and three days at the For Men Only conference in Dallas. Not the most popular tourist destination, a few people have told me they would never have thought of visiting Texas, but it turned out to be a fantastic choice!MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-26873229842671477182007-05-16T06:53:00.000-07:002007-05-16T06:59:04.160-07:00A Tale Of Two Cities Part I (originally sent Apr07)Hi people! I hope everyone is doing good? I just wanted to share with you my journal from my latest trip to Texas! Hope you enjoy it!<br /><br />Live and Direct from Houston Texas!<br /><br />Up until now I had never been beyond the East coast of the United States of America. NY, NJ and DC were the limits of my sojourns in the land of stars and stripes. But my world was about to get bigger – a whole lot bigger! I got home from work on Thursday night knowing that despite not having packed and not having had time to really plan my trip, I had to be on a plane at Gatwick at 10am on Friday morning…such was my exhaustion from yet another whirlwind week at work that I went to bed half packed, setting my alarm to get me up at 5am to finish packing and make my way to the airport.<br /><br />I lazily dragged myself out of bed at the sound of my alarm to get ready, but despite my unprepared-ness, I had a distinct lack of any sense of urgency. At 5.30am I sat and watched Creflo Dollar, as I leisurely threw clothes which I deemed holiday worthy into my suitcase. Creflo, the senior pastor of World Changers Church in Atlanta, was one of many preachers on the Christian TV networks that I had become familiar with. Another was Marcus Witt, senior pastor of the Spanish congregation of Lakewood Church in Houston, and the sheer magnificence of their church building meant that it was top on the list of sites I had to see when I arrived in Houston. Anyway, it wasn’t until the clock was approaching 7am that I hurriedly decided to stop deciding what to pack in the realization that I could miss my flight if I kept dillydallying…I got on the DLR at about 7.15 to start making my way to Gatwick Airport. Luckily for me, it took barely an hour and a half to get to Gatwick, I was there before 9am and boarded the plane without being in a mad rush not to miss it (thank goodness for online checkin).<br /><br />The flight was pretty cool, I hadn’t been on a flight ten hours long before but the time flew by as I used it to catch up on movies that I hadn’t seen yet. I saw three movies in all including the new(ish) Bond (why did I even bother?) and Stranger than Fiction (interesting concept). The highlight of the flight was passing over the glaciered landscape of Greenland….the pilot interrupted the in-flight entertainment to announce to the passengers to take a look at the awesome scenery of Greenland as we passed over this mass expanse of rocky white ice. As I marvelled at the view, I wondered how populous this massive island could be, and indeed whose bright idea it was to call it “Green”. Anyway wikipedia tells me that it’s the third biggest island in the world and the country with the lowest population density, but don’t hold me to that, you know you can never really trust wiki sometimes…<br /><br />10 hours later, at about 3pm local time, we landed in Dallas, where I had a 3 hour stop over before taking a connecting flight to Houston. What struck me immediately apart from the cowboy hats, trousers and boots being brandished by some men who were obviously arriving back home, I couldn’t help but notice the deep sense of Latin American culture in the air. It seemed that every other person was Hispanic and catching even just a hint of Spanish was like music to my ears. As I stood in the queue waiting to go through customs, I excitedly looked forward to arriving in Houston, quietly hoping I would experience more of the same flavour over there (and I wasn’t to be disappointed either!). <br /><br />So after the three hour stopover in Dallas, I boarded the plane to take me to Houston. It was already 7pm local time, so by this time I was quite knackered. My body was saying 2am and I barely realised when we took off. I awoke as the plane started it’s descent to Houston. On arrival at George Bush International Airport, I was met by a friend who I had met a few years before on an internet site called Naijaryders (NR). He went by the name of LK (Louis Khan – not from mortal kombat, it’s an anagram of his Nigerian name). NR was an online forum where Nigerians in diaspora could go and network and chat with others like them across the US and other parts of the world. I met LK back in 2002 when the forum had its inaugural reunion in DC at memorial day weekend – I was one of two “UK Ryders” that graced the event. Many of us were able to form friendships that would transcend the realms of internet space and make a longer lasting impact in each of our lives. And this was the case here – with just a phone call from London, LK and E.I., his housemate who also used to frequent NR, were inviting me to stay at their home for the duration of my stay in Houston! And did these guys look after me or what? I was given a cell phone to use throughout my time there and I almost didn’t pay for a single meal in five days!<br /><br />On Friday night, after LK had picked me up from the airport, we went directly to a home fellowship that he attends. Although we got there late, it was refreshing to see Christians meeting together in the same way in an entirely different part of the world. While we are sleeping in London, there is a bunch of young men and women in Houston (and elsewhere) meeting to fellowship together in Jesus’ name. After the meeting ended, I met a few other ex-NR members who I had previously only known by screen names and many other nice young ladies and gentlemen. Quite a few of them including LK were members of Dominion Chapel, the main parish of the Redeemed Christian Church of God (RCCG) in Houston. After the fellowship, I tagged along with LK and a few others for a more intimate meeting the 24 hour IHOP (International house of pancakes!). This meeting was to discuss ideas and the direction they had for Jesus House Houston, a church plant from Dominion Chapel that this young group of people had been called to be a part of.<br /><br />The following day, Dominion Chapel’s singles ministry was having a careers event, so I went with E.I. as he was giving a speech at the event to the students who were in attendance. There was also a panel of more senior professionals, some of whom I was able to meet during the midway interval. The Dominion Chapel building was very nice and the set up of the church reminded me of our very own Jesus House. As you can imagine, what had really struck me about my hosts LK and E.I. on this trip was how much we had all spiritually matured in similar ways since our playful Naijaryder days despite having led totally separate lives. It’s ironic that before I landed in Houston, LK was worried that he’d have to take me out clubbing when that wasn’t really his scene anymore, while I was also worried about what he had in mind when he said “he’d show me a good time”. I also had the pleasure of meeting Pastor Bayo Fatugba, the head Pastor at Dominion Chapel. He is a delightfully pleasant man and I had the honour of having lunch with him and his team a few days later. I learnt that he had practised law for about ten years before he went into ministry full time to do what had really always been his passion – to serve God. After the careers event, I went with LK for a birthday party at a bowling alley, where I was able to meet even more “Naija Houstonians”. As the evening approached and night fell, I realised that my body was still on UK time – we got home sometime after midnight and I crashed straight away. <br /><br />The next day was Sunday, so that meant church and my long awaited visit to Lakewood Church. Luckily for me, E.I. attended Lakewood so I went with him. We got there slightly after 11am and I jumped out of the car to get good seats while he went to park. I soon found that saying you’re from London can get you very far and I soon found myself sitting very near the front despite that area already being “full”. To give you an idea of how big Lakewood is, 42,000 people attended it’s opening service in 2003 when they took over the Compaq Centre from the Houston Rockets after they moved to their new arena following the 2002-03 basketball season. That’s more than 1% of the total population of Houston! In London, you’d have over 100,000 members if you had 1% of the population in your congregation. In which case, even taking over the new Wembley stadium wouldn’t be able to hold you all. And the Compaq Centre really is a magnificent building – as you can imagine it was the home of a team that was back to back NBA champions in the mid-nineties (a team which included MVP Hakeem Olajuwon). Having watched Lakewood on TV, I had always thought that it looked like a stadium of some sort, and it turns out that I was right! Currently, about 30,000 people attend their Sunday services. <br /><br />In the absence of head Pastor Joel Osteen, Pastor Marcos Witt took both the English and Spanish services. A very energetic and witty man (no pun intended!), this was the first time I had heard him preach in English (his sermons on TV are in Spanish). And he preached about fear and how to overcome it. Apparently, the number one fear people have in life is not death, it is the fear of speaking in public speaking. Of over 500 known phobias listed, he mentioned some of the wackier ones like nudophobia (the fear of nudity) and panophobia (the fear of everything!). E.I. left after the main service, but I stayed behind to catch the Spanish service. In between I went to pick up a copy of Marcus Witt’s newly released book “How to overcome your fears”. However when I went to get the book signed there was a very long queue which they had closed off and I was told to return the following week. Once again, I used the “I’m from London” card and when I explained that I wasn’t going to be there the following week I was allowed to join the end of the queue and get the book signed. After the Spanish service, I went to peruse in the Lakewood bookstore until LK came to pick me up. As the evening wound down, we set off to rent a car for my remaining few days in Houston (I was flying to Dallas on Wednesday evening). As the week was about to start, LK and E.I. would both be at work so using a hired car was going to be the only way I would get around. <br /><br />The final few days I spent in Houston were great. Soulbrotha, another young guy who was also a member of Naijaryders came by the house on Monday morning and we chatted for a few hours catching up on old times. He’s an up and coming Christian rap artist and was just about to drop his debut album the following weekend. I hadn’t met him in person until this trip, so it was great putting a face and real character to the internet persona (people are rarely how you imagine them to be when you’ve only chatted with them online!). After he left, I lounged for a while and it was late afternoon when I decided to eventually venture out on the roads of Houston to get myself to the Galleria shopping mall. Driving on the grand six-lane interstate highways was an exhilarating experience. The roads are big, the cars are big, and it was a stress-free driving experience – very different from the hassle of driving in a country where the roads are so small that one always has to think three steps ahead to give way to oncoming traffic. Being mobile greatly enhanced my enjoyment of this trip - I was able to meet and have lunch with friends, family friends and even Pastor Bayo. And ofcourse, I was able to do all the shopping that I wanted! On Tuesday evening, we met up with some other guys at a sports bar at the Galleria, where among other things, they were planning Soulbrotha’s album release party. It was another great evening and a fitting way to spend my last evening with these Houstonians before I left for Dallas. On Wednesday, I returned to Lakewood to pick up some of the books I had seen on Sunday. In the evening, LK took both E.I. and I to the airport to catch different flights, but this wasn’t before I had managed to leave my suit at their house – I had to get them to overnight it to me in Dallas.<br /><br />It wasn’t until much later when I was back in London that I was asked if I visited NASA – you know, the guys that say “Houston, we have a problem!” in the movies. Well, I guess that gives me something to return to Houston to see, but there certainly weren’t any problems this time around – I’d had a fantastic five days, but it was time to experience a new city, the home of the Mavericks and the Cowboys! And there was a small matter of a men’s conference and retreat hosted by TD Jakes scheduled for the coming days. There was much to look forward to!MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22433300.post-41598869386482323532007-05-16T06:00:00.001-07:002007-05-16T06:59:50.370-07:00The Sights and Sounds of Accra! (originally sent Oct06)Hi Guys and Gals!<br /><br />For your reading pleasure, the journal of our recent trip to Ghana - I hope you enjoy it! It is extremely long (I think the longest journal I've written so far) so you might want to print it out and read it later. I have just finished it and haven't proof read it at all, so excuse any grammatical or spelling errors!<br /><br /><br />------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br /><br /><br />The Sights and Sounds of Accra<br /><br />These are the memoirs of my first ever trip to Ghana. It’s been a great 4-day adventure, and an experience that has been laced with joy, sadness, excitement and utter surprise, each to varying degrees. When my brothers and I set out from Heathrow on Thursday for Accra, we thought that we were just going for our mum’s 50th birthday celebration on Saturday, but we got a lot more than we bargained for! It turned out to be a much bigger party than we had envisaged – 150 guests from different countries around the world convening at the La Palm Beach hotel in Accra signalled that my dad was really going all out to celebrate this milestone in his wife’s life. The choice of Ghana may not seem so obvious, but given that he went to University there and needed to relinquish a 30-yr promise of taking my mum to Ghana, then the choice was in fact perfect!<br /><br />The journey actually started the day before we travelled on Wednesday – after working late, we literally had to drive across London in the middle of the night (with like 2-hour traffic on the A406) and to Reading and back, making sure we picked up all the big cardboard boxes that had the party gifts we were to take to Ghana with us for the festivities. After a full night of driving, we didn’t get back home till 6am (people were already on the way to work!), which gave us about 3 hours to pack before leaving for the airport. There weren’t really any complications at the airport, we left London as scheduled after 2pm and embarked on the 7 hour or so trip to Accra. For me, one of the big bonuses of this trip was that as Ecowas (Economic Community of West African States) citizens, Nigerians do not need visas to go to Ghana, so that saved the trouble of numerous embassy visits and appointments – finally that Green passport has been useful for something!<br /><br />A word about the flight – too much turbulence! It didn’t help that I recently listened to a message in church where the speaker described how on a trip to Africa the plane he was in dropped by 1000ft suddenly in turbulence – the message may have been about overcoming fear but my remembering it during our own period of serious turbulence didn’t exactly help matters! Not much else to say about the flight – since we hadn’t slept all night, the initial plan was to sleep for the duration of the flight, but instead I decided to use it to catch up on movies I hadn’t seen. I started off with “Cars” – very deep and funny animated flick which really had me thinking over and over about the moral of the story. Then there was “Click”, typical slapstick Adam Sandler comedy about a guy who was using a remote to fast forward parts of his life he didn’t like – let’s just say that I was dying to fast forward the whole movie to the end! By the time I got half way through, I decided to see it through so that my time wouldn’t have been wasted – and in the end it actually had quite a deep message also – so I guess it wasn’t all a waste! I managed to squeeze in Lion King before we landed – yes, to all of you who said I had a deprived childhood for never watching this movie – eat your hearts out, I finally did it!<br /><br />Finally, we landed at Kotoka International Airport at about 9pm local time. As we stepped off the plane, I saw the sign “Akwaaba” at the entrance to the airport and I knew I was certainly in Ghana (I believe it means welcome?). The air was warm yet cool, and not too humid – quite a contrast to the sea of humid heat I was expecting and was used to from my trips to Nigeria (perhaps it was simply because we landed in the evening?). My dad had an old Ghanaian colleague who was on the same flight as us who had offered to put us up on the first night, before we moved to the La Palm Beach Hotel on Friday night, so we had met him on the plane before take off. However when we landed my younger brother Sola aptly pointed out that we didn’t even know whether we were being picked up from the airport. Luckily for us, our parents, who had flown from Nigeria on the same day, were at the airport to welcome us. So we went to my dad’s friend’s home in Achimota and we had dinner there and got acquainted with him and his wife before we were shown our rooms. It was barely midnight when we crashed – remember that it had now been 48 hours since some of us had slept!<br /><br />Before we went to bed however, we did receive some really sad news. My parents were coming from the funeral of my first cousin, which was held in Lagos earlier that day. Quite tragically, he was among fifteen Lagos State University Students who died when the boat cruise they were on capsized about a week ago now. Although he had visited and stayed with us briefly some 10 years ago when we were still in Nigeria, we were never really close and never really in touch. My heart goes out to my uncle’s family because I can only imagine what they must be going through right now – a young promising life snuffed out way too soon – he was only 24 years old, and I understand that he used to play an instrument in his church. It was a sad reminder that sometimes life is way too short to lose touch with certain people, to harbour grudges with people you may never actually see again, or indeed to not cherish loved ones and people that you care about while they are around. May his soul rest in perfect peace.<br /><br />So on Friday, we eventually lazily crawled out of bed around 10 or 11am, had breakfast and started getting ready to move over to the hotel. We had a long day of packaging gifts (that would be given to all the guests) ahead of us. I tried to get in touch with Mide and Tomi – they school in Ghana (Accra and Kumasi respectively) and they were in town. Their dad was my dad’s best man and had apparently introduced my parents back in the day. Their parents had also flown in from Lagos for the ceremony. Before I continue, to my Ghanaian brothers and sisters, I’ve really got to give it up to you – everything you’ve told me about Ghana is true. I am beginning to understand why so many Nigerians are now furthering their education in Ghana as a viable alternative to moving to the US or UK. You guys are truly more sophisticated, more organised and much cleaner than Naija (sorry all my Nigerian peeps, its true!). Okay, apart from Abuja. But if it’s a choice between Accra and Lagos, Accra takes it hands down! I haven’t been to Lag in nearly two years now, so maybe I need to go back to update my notes, but there were a whole lot of stores in Accra that I wouldn’t have dreamed of seeing in Naija – Wranglers Jeans, Woolworths, Nandos etc. Several branches of Barclays Bank were also littered across the city – guys, watch this space, I could ask for a transfer to Africa – if I pack up and move to Accra, then you'll know why! Meanwhile for Barclays, Nigeria is one of two NCCTs (Non-Compliant Countries and Territories), along with Myanmar (I know, I’d never heard of this island either!). Actually, stop press – I just checked and Naija was removed from this list in June – hallelujah!<br /><br />After seeing some of the sights of Accra, we arrived at the hotel at about 3pm and waited for about an hour for our rooms to be ready to for us. In the meantime, we chilled out in the lobby meeting a lot of guests who were also arriving from all over (mainly the UK and Nigeria) for the festivities. You can’t imagine the number of times that we were approached by old friends of our parents who would say things like, “don’t you remember me?” or “I knew you when you were still a baby!” – but it was cool though! Friday was pretty uneventful, Tomi came to the hotel with her friend AJ and they helped with the packaging of the gifts, which we spent most of the afternoon doing. Mide arrived at the hotel later on and then we joined her friend Ngebi (from Cameroon) for dinner at Frankie’s, a restaurant in Accra’s famous Osu area aka Oxford Street. We went out to a couple of bars and clubs afterwards and by 2am or so we were ready to go home. We decided to go back to Mide’s to watch some home movies, but when we got there her selection of movies wasn’t that great and since we were all so tired anyway, we just crashed there until the next morning.<br /><br />Saturday was finally here, this was my mum’s big day. We woke up at about 10am and took a taxi back to the hotel. On the way back we managed to see a few more sights and chatted with the taxi driver about Hearts of Oak and Asante Kotoko when we passed the football stadium. When we got back to the hotel, our parents and most of their guests where in the hotel restaurant having the buffet breakfast, so we joined them. We wished her happy birthday and grabbed something to eat as the buffet was closing. Again, most of the day was spent getting ready for the evening festivities which were due to start from about 8pm. We had loads more packaging to do for gifts that others had brought, so we sat and did this while watching Chelsea beating Portsmouth live on Supersport as well as the highlights of the other Premiership matches on Saturday. By 7pm, we were all running around all over the place, making sure that everything was in place for the big event. We all had to give speeches, my brothers and I, and also my mum and dad. My mum had brought the hairdressers to her room and she was working on her speech while they put finishing touches to her hair. At this point, it was literally a few minutes to 8pm, my dad called me into the adjoining room and then closed the door. He said to me that after the opening prayer and remarks, there was going to be a surprise that my mum didn’t know about. He proceeded to bring out 2 rings from his pocket and explained that he had gotten a priest for the ceremony and he was going to ask her to renew their marriage vows! My brothers and I were to be the page boys, so we were to bring the rings on a cushion towards them when called upon to do so! Whaaaaattttttt??? My mind was truly blown – I was almost speechless! This was truly on another level! What a special gift to give your wife on her 50th birthday!!! <br /><br />My dad gave me the rings, and I left his room to finish off running some other errands that needed to be done before the ceremony started. I placed the rings carefully in the side pocket of my tuxedo – I kept checking my pocket every other minute just to make sure they were still there – I wanted to be absolutely sure they’d still be there when we needed to present them. My brothers eventually joined us at about 8.30pm and we walked down to the hall where the ceremony was to take place. With our parents not far behind, I whispered to my brothers what the plan was, and they were equally surprised – dad had kept that one quiet. I couldn’t help feeling like a secret agent, who was passing on highly classified information to his fellow secret agents. The intricacy of the planning was indeed second to none – our dad didn’t let us know what he was planning until minutes before the ceremony, because we didn’t need to know a moment before. When we arrived at the hall, which was in a building adjacent to the hotel reception, we were ushered to the entrance, where we were to be shown to our seats. At that point, a lady came up to my brothers and I and asked which of us was going to hold the plate (which the rings were to go on). My mum, within an earshot of us, heard this and asked what it was we were going to be holding, but my dad dismissed this and said it was nothing! Phew, that was a close one – even if she was suspecting something at this point, she couldn’t have guessed how big the surprise was going to be.<br /><br />We walked into the hall and there was a band to our left playing some soft soulful jazz music and a dance floor, which was for later on in the evening, to the right. Ahead of us and down a few steps was the main part of the hall, well decorated with about 15 round tables for guests and a high table for special guests of honour, who included my dad’s best man and his wife, and the wife of my dad’s boss. My brothers and I were ushered to our table at the far left corner of the room, which were not exactly the best seats in the house, I might add. Never mind, I was planning on moving around with my camera the whole night to get the best shots of the high table, the speeches and of course, the renewal of the wedding vows. The ceremony eventually kicked off at about 9pm. After the opening prayer and remarks, it was announced that the couple were to be renewing their wedding vows. My mum’s jaw dropped – the look on her face was one of utter shock and disbelief – absolutely priceless! As the priest stood up and called them forward, you could see she was shaking. My dad read his vows and when my mum read hers with a quiver in her voice. This was like being in a movie! I really couldn’t believe my eyes….it is truly amazing to be able to witness your parents getting married – this was all I could think as I looked on in total awe. I never realised or thought that my dad was such a king of romance, but this was confirmed when he gave his speech afterwards – when he talked about how we won my mother’s heart back in the day, wooing her for the better part of four years, I began to see exactly how he was able to capture the heart of a woman as beautiful as my mother. And I dare say that he has done it again! <br /><br />The ceremony continued with my mum’s sisters who had flown over from New Jersey and London giving speeches – they both mentioned how privileged and honoured they were to actually be there, having had to come from such a long way. I too sat at my table and could only marvel at how surreal it was to actually be at such an occasion. It felt special to be one of a select few who were in the room that night. It was the second time in a fortnight I had felt that way. A couple of weeks before, I had the privilege of being at the wedding of a Ghanaian friend of mine in Birmingham – it had the same feeling of exclusivity that wedding receptions I had previously been to didn’t have. Essentially, when you get married out of town, you can be sure that your whole community isn’t going to turn up at your reception uninvited. So you can imagine how extra-special “out of continent” must have felt. The ambience in the room that night is truly something that words fail to replicate. As the groom at his wedding, my Ghanaian friend gave such a heart warming speech about how his mother had sacrificed so much in moving to the UK to give her kids a better life, and I echoed his sentiments about my mother in my own speech that night. Olu, myself and Sola rendered our speeches in that order and we each showed a lot of appreciation for our parents in the best way we knew how to. We each presented our mother with a gift – let’s not get carried away and forget that this was her 50th birthday celebrations! <br /><br />In between speeches we had nice spells of dancing, music and comedy. The first guy that played that night was Mark Tontoh, who was part of a band called Osibisa, which was part of my dad’s vast music collection when he met my mum back in 1976 (apparently, he was really into his music then – he still is!). Translated from the local language, Osibisa means “criss cross rhythms that explode with happiness”, and their music was a unique fusion of African, Caribbean, Rock, Jazz and Latin – you can imagine my surprise when I heard the guy singing in Spanish! The second act that played that evening was Malek Grayem. Apparently, he has four bands in Ghana and was the entertainment prefect at the same secondary school that my dad attended all those years ago! And for anybody looking for a good MC, I would recommend this guy called Holy Mallam (I think), who is a comedian that was flown over from Nigeria to MC the event – a lot more charismatic and funnier than many MCs I’ve seen in recent times! <br /><br />My mum gave her heart-warming speech, thanking all the special guests and everyone else who had taken time out to be there on her big night. There were also closing speeches from a couple of the special guests of honour on the high table as the event began to wind down and draw to a close. By this time it was 2am and everyone was really tired. But even as the formalities were over and the event was coming to an end, there was still enough time for everyone to hit the dance floor one last time – and boy did the golden oldies show us how it was done back in the day or what? My dad especially, I couldn’t even be on the same dance floor as him! It was real nice to see him enjoying such moments as I know how hard he’s worked in life for his family, so he deserves to enjoy such moments and many more! The scenes that night were really reminiscent of one of those wedding movies where everyone is on the dance floor switching partners, being merry and basically just celebrating life – if only every moment could be like this.<br /><br />It’s 3am and guests are leaving – I’m totally shattered so I retreat to my room to crash while Olu and Sola take our cousin Della out to see the night life in Accra. She had missed her flight from London on Friday, thanks to some rather bizarre circumstances surrounding some really atrocious customer services with Virgin on Friday, so she had to take the BA flight which only got her to Accra on Saturday night, just in time to catch most of the ceremony. She was instrumental in sorting out all the gifts for the party that we had carried to Ghana, and many thanks must go to her from us for all the effort she put into arranging the party gifts!<br /><br />I’m up by 9am on Sunday, and getting ready for the church thanksgiving service we were having and also packing to check out of the room. Again, we had the buffet breakfast at the hotel and headed for the church at about 11am. I met some French speaking colleagues of my dad who had read my journals from my time in Nice last year (didn’t realise that he used to send these to his friends!), and we conversed in what little French I remembered for a bit. They were very encouraging about my level of French and it was nice to be able to understand them and say a few words, one day I hope I’ll be able to pick up French again properly and maybe even return to France, I think it’s a difficult language, but a very beautiful language to speak if you learn it properly! Anyway, I digress – we had the thanksgiving service and they recognised people who were celebrating birthdays, including my mum, and they also recognised the whole Nigerian party (that’s us), who had come to Ghana to witness my parents renewing their vows. After the service, we returned to the hotel and we basically chilled out for the rest of the day. We hung out in the lobby a bit, saying bye to a lot of the guests who were leaving, and we even had time to watch Arsenal totally hang Reading out to dry! As it approached the evening, we decided to go out to buy some last minutes souvenirs as our flight to return to the UK was for 10.30pm that evening. After getting a few things, we returned to the airport, said goodbye to Mide, Tomi and their parents, and also to our parents who were staying back and then travelling to Kumasi the following day for their second honeymoon (at least that’s what I’m calling it!). We left the hotel at about 7.30pm with our Aunt who was returning to the UK on the same flight as us.<br /><br />I would say that getting on the plane and the journey back itself were pretty uneventful, but this story would not be complete if I didn’t mention the behaviour of the Ghanaian custom officers, both on our arrival and departure from the country. On arriving on Thursday, a customs guy at the exit of the arrival lounge was trying to demand the visa in Sola’s passport – they would have taken us for a ride if we weren’t sure that we didn’t need a visa. And on leaving Ghana on Sunday, at the departure gate, the guy was trying to claim that a “security feature” was missing from Olu’s passport – of course he just wanted money, so we handle the situation calmly and after 45 minutes or so of claiming that his superior on his way to inspect the passport – he quietly returned the passport when he realised that he wasn’t going to get anything out of us. So, we arrive back in London at 6.30am on Monday morning. The story should end here, except that our exit from Heathrow airport was so eventful that it is definitely worth a mention (bear with me, I know this is longer than usual, if you’ve come this far then well done!). Yet again, we were stopped by customs, this time supposedly because their sniff dog was a bit too interested in Sola’s hand luggage for there not to be drugs in it. They used this as their excuse to empty every single one of our suitcases and hand luggage we had. After observing how they selectively let loose the guard dog on only certain passengers passing through customs – I had to conclude that the dog was a bit clueless and really was just excited to be smell different aromas from around the world. I tempered my impatience by telling myself that they were only doing their jobs, but I couldn’t help thinking that it was all a bit of a joke, how they looked in every single nook and cranny of our boxes like they really expected to find some kind of illegal substance?<br /><br />So after brazing our last brush with customs, at least until our next trip, I decided to go to the British Airways counter to buy my ticket to Naija for Christmas, however when I got there my credit card was not being accepted. While I was on the phone to the credit card company to sort out the issue, I noticed a young black guy (baggy jeans, Tims, Bling bling chains, ring and watch – you get the picture) come up and try and talk to me. I initially ignored him as I was on the phone, but he actually waited till I was done on the phone before he proceeded to beg me for money to get to Norwich. My first reaction was what my first reaction usually is when strangers beg me for money – it was “I’m sorry, I can’t help you”. But he kept on and I realised the desperation in his voice when he went as far as saying that he would leave his luggage or watch or anything with me (I guess as collateral), until he could get the money to pay me back. I asked him a few questions and it turns out that he was a Portuguese national, who had grown up in Houston Texas, and he had arrived from Portugal this morning to England for the first time ever and with just 20 euros. I decided to help this guy get to Norwich because I knew that nobody else would, especially with the “young black youth” image he had going. In fact he told me that the police had asked him to leave the airport because they had noticed that he was begging passengers for money. In fact they even told him how to connect to Norwich. Before we left, I went back to the BA counter for the 3rd time and my frustration was heightened when I realised that my payment was still not going through, but I calmed down when I realised that perhaps I had gone there not to buy that ticket, but in fact to help our young friend Mutaro. His story was that he had gotten a job at a factory in Norwich through a Portuguese agency and he was going to work there to get started while he was in England for 8 months to save money to go to University and to realise a dream in the US (a dream he preferred not to say what it was, but that I’ll know it when I see it happen…). While I was careful, I wasn’t too worried about whether his story checked out, he did have an American accent, and when I asked him what languages he could speak, he said 5 including Spanish, French, Portuguese and English (and his folks are from Guinea-Bissau, so maybe their native language?). So any fears I had were kind of allayed when I tested his Spanish and French for a few minutes and it was very clear to me that he was fluent in both.<br /><br />So we made our way towards terminal 3 to meet Olu and Sola to get the underground, and I was going to escort to Mutaro to Liverpool Street and help him with his ticket to Norwich - this was a young 21-year old guy who it was very clear to me had no idea of how he was going to get around, not to mention the fact that he had no money to get to where he was going. After we got our underground tickets, we were about to go down the escalators to get the train, when suddenly a policewoman came out of a room and bundled him inside very quickly. At this point, we began to ask ourselves whether it was the right thing to do to help him – I mean the moment anything becomes a police issue, then we really ought not to get involved or make it our business. But Olu said to me that if we left now, then the guy would still be in the same position as he was before even if the police let him go. So we bided our time, and after about 20 minutes, they let him go, and the policewoman explained that sometimes they just do random checks – the truth however, as he previously mentioned to me was that they had been monitoring him on cctv so they needed to check him out before he left the airport due to his “suspicious” behaviour while he had been hanging about the airport. Who knows, perhaps he had found these three customers for whatever dodgy dealings he was involved in and was leaving the airport with them. Afterwards when we were on our way, he told me how scared he was when they called him into the room and interrogated him for 20 minutes.<br /><br />As we talked on the way to Liverpool Street, it became clear to me that despite the fact that his father was pretty well off and had homes both in Portugal and the US, he didn’t have a great relationship with his father, and in fact, was trying to be his own man, by coming to England to make something for himself, even without his father’s knowledge. This struck me as rather strange – it must be a serious wedge between father and son, for a son to leave the comfort of his father’s home and go to a country he has never been to before without any money to work in a factory. I told him about the story of the prodigal son in the Bible (at this point he mentions his family is Muslim but he doesn’t practice), and basically advised him to always honour his parents no matter what – and do what he can to make the relationship between himself and his dad better. Before we got to Liverpool Street, I tried to give him some advice about surviving in the UK – I told him to talk more clearly with less slang, and told him to forget about that whole business of wearing his baggy jeans half way down his boxers – he seemed very appreciative for all the advice. It was about 11am when we got to Liverpool Street Station, and after buying his ticket and giving him some lunch money, we parted ways. He couldn’t find the words to express his gratitude and I basically told him that God orchestrated our meeting in this way and that one day when he has found his feet in life, God will put him in positions to help others in similar ways.<br /><br />I got back home eventually just before midday and crashed for a few hours. It certainly has been a long and very eventful four days. Now back to the hustle and bustle of real life tomorrow! Look out for the pictures from Accra – I will be sending them very soon! </tt>MR Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609172393417527431noreply@blogger.com