“My name is Chief Edwin Clark, an Ijaw leader,” he said cheerfully to the bearded, aged man, who returned the greeting with a knowing smile.
“Welcome. If I didn’t know Nigerians well, I would have assumed you were an impostor. But here, there are no Chiefs, Doctors, Barristers, Pastors, Excellencies, Honorables, Imams, Alhajis, Alhajas, Bishops, or any other grand titles. This is the ‘Waiting Realm,’ where every newly departed soul stays for three months before being assigned to their final destination—strictly based on their record on Earth. Unlike where you’re coming from, here, there is limitless clean water, uninterrupted electricity, free Wi-Fi, organic food, and top-class infrastructure. But take note: you’ll do all your chores yourself. No housemaids, no drivers, no cooks. Every man and woman is equal. There are no religious or ethnic divisions either—so, Edwin, you won’t need to campaign for equity and justice here. Just rest and wait.”
Edwin took it all in, nodding. “Thank you. The journey was fast. This place is beautiful. What is your name?”
“Saint Peter,” the man replied with a smirk.
“Ah! The same Saint Peter who betrayed Jesus three times?” Edwin asked, grinning.
Peter laughed. “Lol! That’s long forgiven and forgotten.”
“You even know ‘lol’? Thank God my children taught me about it. Well, if that’s forgiven and forgotten, then I suppose whatever I might have done wrong will be too,” Edwin chuckled.
Peter simply gestured for him to move along.
As Edwin navigated through the crowd, a familiar voice called out to him: “Edwin, you too?”
The voice was unmistakable. He turned swiftly and found himself face-to-face with his old ally. “Pa Ayo Adebanjo! Na you cause this o. Why did you pull me here?” He embraced him warmly.
Ayo laughed heartily. “There are no ‘Pa’ titles here. We are all just first and last names. But this is a good place. I have peace. We were lucky—we left at old age, after fighting the good fight. We had family, love, and purpose.”
Before Edwin could respond, Ayo tugged at his sleeve. “Come, let me show you something—our one-way screen. You can see what’s happening in Nigeria but can’t communicate back.”
They peered into the screen.
“Look at them, lots of genuine love” Ayo chuckled. “But see that headline? The same person who cursed your name last week is now calling you ‘the best thing that happened to Nigeria.’ Hypocrisy, as always.”
Edwin smirked. “We appreciate them all. Let them mourn in peace.”
Then, suddenly, he turned to Ayo with a puzzled expression. “You didn’t see it happen!”
Ayo raised an eyebrow. “You mean a return to true democracy?”
“You didn’t see it happen!”
“Complete eradication of corruption?”
“You didn’t see it happen!”
“Respect for human rights?”
“You did not see it happen!”
“Good governance at every level?”
“You did not see it happen!”
“A positive overhaul of the Nigerian education system?”
“You did not see it happen!”
“Provision of universal healthcare?”
“You did not see it happen!”
“Compulsory education up to secondary level for all children?”
“You did not see it happen!”
“Gainful employment for the youth?”
“You did not see it happen!”
Ayo sighed. “See what happen? I can go on and on. Did you see any of these happen?”
Edwin smiled. “Relax, my dear brother. I was just reminding you—we had a bet years ago that we’d live to see ‘100 happen.’”
Ayo’s eyes widened in realization. “Ah! That’s true! But in a country where the life expectancy is 55, we must be thankful we made it this far.”
“Indeed. Hopefully, those we left behind will keep pushing for the change Nigeria needs.” Then Edwin turned, teasing, “But honestly, Ayo, I wasn’t ready to come yet. I followed you so you wouldn’t make this journey alone.”
“Thank you, my brother,” Ayo said, touched. “Come, let me show you around.”
As they stepped onto a balcony to admire the pollution-free horizon, a loud commotion broke out near the entrance of the Waiting Realm.
“What’s going on?” Edwin asked.
Ayo squinted toward the source of the noise. “Wait… isn’t that—?”
From a distance, they saw a disheveled, frantic figure resisting the firm grip of two celestial guards. It was an infamous politician known for abuse of power and corruption.
“You can’t do this to me!” the man wailed. “I built roads! I donated to churches and mosques! I sponsored prayers!”
Saint Peter stood unmoved. “Sir, the Supreme Leader has reviewed your record. Your wealth was stained with suffering, and your power was built on oppression. Your donations were mere performances. Judgment is final.”
Before the disgraced politician could protest further, a fiery chasm opened beneath him, and with a single, decisive motion, he was flung into it—vanishing into the abyss.
Edwin and Ayo exchanged glances.
Ayo sighed. “Well… at least we didn’t see that happen in Nigeria either. There, men like him always found a way to escape judgment.”
Edwin chuckled. “Here, justice is swift and fair.”
Just then, Saint Michael appeared.
“Congratulations, gentlemen. Due to your good deeds, the Supreme Leader has expedited your relocation to heaven. It’s time to rest in peace.”
Hand in hand, the two elder statesmen ascended into the light—free, at last, from the burdens of the world they left behind.
NB: Johnson Babalola, a Canada based immigration and refugee lawyer, author, storyteller, leadership consultant and corporate emcee, is a public affairs analyst. He is the Founder of JB Law & Life Compass (JBLLC), a mentorship platform for young Nigerian lawyers, law students and professionals (@jblifecompass). Follow him for discussions on real life issues that affect us all:* https://substack.com/@johnsonbabalola https://medium.com/@jblawyer2021 www.facebook.com/jbandthings
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*You can obtain a copy of his book, REJECTED on Amazon, FriesenPress, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Google Play, Apple Books, Nook Store etc.*
