WAY TO HEAVEN

By Favour Martins SAFACS 2023 ENTRY 29

You found God on your way to heaven.

As you rolled the paper, inhaled that white powder and let yourself fly.

How did you even get here?

How did Mum’s prayers lead you here?

You shook off the thought and sucked in more of the powder. It was exhilarating. Beautiful.

The high you felt was short-lived.

Because you heard a voice.

************

The voice was small. Not God’s.

It was Efe. The girl that had followed you all your life.

From primary school where you met her till the University of Lagos where her frail body and wide eyes sought you out in a crowded class.

The first time you prayed in tongues, it was Efe that laid hands on you. You remember her quivering hands as much as you remember your monosyllabic, fervent prayer.

And she was here again. Knocking.

Whispering.

“Samuel this is not you. No. You’re not the one Kefi says is smoking weed.”

You could hear her raspy voice through the thick wooden door.

You knew she was crying.

You flung the wrapped paper at a corner of your room and walked to the door.

*************

Ten years

It would sound surreal when you’ll tell the story at Efe’s funeral.

Her small body finally went to rest. Sickle Cell had lost her eternally.

That day, as you stood on the podium to tell her story, the world was silent.

You told the story of how Efe took you by the hand and led you to yourself.

Your actual self. The one God made. The one that didn’t need drugs for temporal euphoria.

Why did she even care about you so much? Why did she spend her life leading you to the cross?

“God is not mad at you, Sammy. He’s just worried that you don’t know who you are.”

“Who am I?” You asked, a bit puzzled.

Efe opened the Bible to 2 Cor.5:17.

“You’re a new creature, Sammy.”

“You can get out of this. You’re not like these other boys! You’re different. God has changed your heart.”

You remember how comical it all sounded. If it was that easy, this addiction won’t hold you in its palm and squeeze so tightly.

A tear fell from your eyes as you spoke to the crowd.

All these people. Here for Efe. For her life that radiated so much light.

You tell the rest of the story slowly, a river forming at your neck.

How in the weeks that followed, Efe showed you the Lord’s heart. She painted God’s love to you. And you listened.

It wasn’t magic. But the transformation was budding.

She helped you through it all. Till you were totally free. Till you lived years without any of that powder.

You were free. Your heart was filled with the savior’s love.

And you, still a new creature. Just like before.

You smiled when you were done.

You knew that Efe was only sleeping. And you’ll see her soon. It was just a matter of time.