It was towards the end of my turn at the gate of Gloryland. A group was approaching. I’d finish my stint after receiving them.
The beaming faces of new arrivals was a joy watching. Their excitement was extremely contagious. Each group had very special kinds of, as we call them in Gloryland,sodo-sodo dance.
A couple at the back of the group, seemed to extract unique emotion out of me. I ushered them in and followed behind. They kept on turning to look at me. I realised the affinity was mutual. I increased my pace to catch up with them.
“Hallo, my name is Saul”, I introduced myself.
“Pleasure to meet you, Saul! I am Salbyg Kende and my wife—or should I say my companion? We’re told we don’t remain married here—is Mercy”, the man responded and then probed, “Where in the world did you live and in what generation?”
“I am not quite sure about that. I actually never lived on earth”, I answered.
Puzzled, Mercy repeated, “Never lived on earth! Are you an angel?”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a piece of paper on which I wrote a lamentation poem about my abortive life on earth. I handed it to them.
Foetus Unvoiced Appeal Against Abortion
It was a dark day,
A decision had been reached;
An innocent life to slay,
Their priorities not to be breached.
I cried out,
Please let me live,
But how could they hear me shout;
Against my will, I had to leave.
If only I had a voice,
I could have debated my right;
But they made a choice,
Without considering my plight.
If I had hands I could have held firm,
On the walls of nourishment, the womb;
But my hands were yet to form,
Therefore the womb became my tomb.
My own parents colluded against me,
I had nowhere to turn;
In their life, I wasn’t welcome;
Nowhere to turn! O yes, to my Maker I will return.
They read the poem, looked at one another then looked at me, blankly. I could tell that they could have cried but no pain was allowed in Gloryland.
They stared at me with a ‘tell-us-more-about-this’ look.
God made for me a body but my parents destroyed it few months after conception. The Lord called my soul back to Gloryland and named me Saul.
After a moment, Mercy found courage to ask, “The tone of the poem is chilling, were you bitter for having been denied a chance to live on earth?”
“Bitterness is irrelevant in this place”, I answered.
I was asked to write that poem so that it could be sent back to earth through dreams to some selected parents who in turn were expected to pass it along.
The couple looked at one another once again and looked at me.
Just then, a Seraph appeared and asked us to a company him. He took us to a room and asked us to watch a DVD entitled: “The Life of Saul on Earth”.
“But I never lived on earth! Or is it about another Saul?” I asked.
“If you were not aborted, what unfolds in the film is what your life could have been”, he answered and left.
At the end of the first segment, a message appeared on the screen: “Remain seated for the last segment—coming shortly”.
As we waited, Sabyg couldn’t help commenting. “I can’t believe you’d have solved this problem plaguing the world!”
If guilt was allowed in Gloryland, he could’ve been overwhelmed by guilt as he said this.
“That could’ve been a wonderful life! Your parents could’ve been proud”, Mercy added.
If guilt was allowed in Gloryland, she could’ve also been overwhelmed by guilt.
What appeared on the screen next was stunning. It was a 30-seconds flash of: “And now, please meet Saul’s parents”.
No wonder we had a mutual affinity at the first sight. Sabyg and Mercy were my parents.
No wonder they looked at one another when they read the poem I gave them. My was-to-be mother was one of the women whom the poem was sent to through dream. They repented, realising that abortion was a terrible sin against innocent blood.
When the film stopped we all simultaneously fell into triangular hugs in what could have been an outpouring of emotional pain. Nevertheless, pain is irrelevant in Gloryland. When we thought we were crying pain, what manifested was proclamation of praise.
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