“Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones; So let it be with Caesar.”—-Julius Caesar By William Shakespeare.
Dear Brethren,
It is jokingly said that the life expectancy in Nigeria, has diminished to 40. Despite this crude joke, we refuse to laugh when its reality hits us. Yes, when a loved one, a friend, an acquaintance or a celebrity we worship, dies at below 60 but clearly above the 40 year mark.
The rude truth is, once you are born, you are old enough to die. No amount of faith confession or medication, inclusive of African juju that will keep you here forever.
So when your time is up, it is up but you can do well for your memory, by living how you want to be remembered. It will do your soul no good, to look back at the tributes men are writing, to discover that they are lying and all the glowing adjectives they are using, do not in anyway near who you were while on this side of mortality.
I hope when your ancestors welcome you yonder and ask for referrals from your friends, you will be happy with what they will say? Would you want them to send you to your ancestors with lies?
Your brief stay here, is to influence your environment, for good or for bad and you would be remembered for it. No amount of embalming or application of deodorant can cover the stench of a rotten corpse. Your character is your corpse, beautify it now you are alive, so that we will not be forced to copy and paste other people’s obituary on your grave.
Daily, live like it is your last, particularly if you are above 50 in Nigeria. Daily write your autobiography in clear terms that people will know where you stand on any issue.
Yearly, reflect on your death and memories the living will have of you, in the same manner you prepare for your birthday and Sallah or Christmas. As you send out cards, SMS to invite people to your parties, also send out messages to ask after their welfare, their families and console them.
When the final breath is drawn, be it by old age, assassin’s bullet, motor accident, plane crash, slump and die or sleep and sleep off, you are nothing but memories in the heart of those you will leave behind.
They will cherish these memories for a short time and you will be forgotten like a bad fart but if you lived exceptionally well, you will become an ancestor, worthy of worship by generations yet unborn.
Brethren, choose how you want to be remembered. I will not lie against or for the dead.
Yours in sin but daily in search of Grace.
©Bishop of The Sinners Assembly.
