So I went to the market to buy a live chicken, which was of course, killed by the seller. Apart from the bitter woman who parked directly in front of me and insulted the life out of me when I asked her to move her “keke”, there was something intriguing I observed.
“Madam, which one you wan buy?” asked the butcher as he held out two squeaking chickens on both hands.
“Give me the one on the left hand,” I said
And with that instruction, he dropped the other back in the cage.
Whilst he killed the chicken, the others in the cage continued as though nothing had happened, as though the chicken, whom I’d like to call Ngozi, had not just died.
And then it hit me. So many people die everyday, a few make the news, a few leave their world a better place.
As the year runs to an end(…yea…runs cause it’s as though the clock is in some kind of competition with Usain Bolts)… I reminisce on the deaths of quite a number of celebrities this year: Robin Williams, Joan Rivers, Paul Walker, Kefee, Myles Munroe, Chaz B, Nelson Mandela, Justus Esiri etc
I don’t think I’ve covered half the list of people whose life works touched you and me one way or the other. But then try to think about how life has continued, with their memories serving only as embers from the past.
Morale of my story: enjoy life, worship your Creator and always remember that the day of your death ought to be better than the day of your birth. (Ecclesiastes 7:1)