Woli Garbage

Shivering vigorously and ringing a bell repeatedly, I watched the dreadlocked prophet bellow in a loud voice saying "Hear me and hear me well! o ye inhabitants of this accursed world; a time would come where all would amount to nothing and nothing to all; just tears and sorrow. The wealth of the rich would lose face, the poor would delight in their lack....kin would turn against kindred, Flora would turn against Fauna, fathers would rape their daughters, women would cook their young just to feed...it is gonna be anarchic I say unto you", the man cried out in sorrow.

 I stared as if I was hypnotised and with more strength, he cleft to the biggest crucifix that could be found in sub-saharan Africa. He cleared his throat and announced to the crowd that he was the chosen-One; the one highly favoured by the spirits, endowed to tell the world their fate. I felt a cold rush down my spine, saliva went dry in my mouth, goose bumps appeared all over my body as I stood there, rooted to the ground; sweating.

 The prophet sprinkled some murky looking water around his circumference. His voice thundered and his eyes probed, nevertheless he managed to say in a calm voice, "Trouble is coming!!! Trouble is coming".

 He predicted that the world would end tomorrow and he didn't need to be a descendant of Nostradamus to know that.

 "I forsee a world where women would wail and gnash their teeth, the strong men would weep like babies yearning for motherly breasts. The sun would raze homes, many farmlands would become desolate, water bodies would dry up, children would live like orphans, currency would be valueless and the streets would stink of decomposed bodies", He cried out in anguish as we all listened in fear.

 "I see the annihilation of the earth, then the disappearance of the stratosphere. The world is on the verge of collapse...can't you see this people?", He questioned in a frustrated manner.

 "Tomorrow, the earth shall cease to be....we shall all lose our lives, breath shall leave our bodies and we would return to the maker", he prophesied amidst tears. This news made everyone uneasy; some women wailed, the men bowed their heads looking dejected. Every one was taken aback by the words of the prophet as he left on his way with his assistant ringing his bell and screaming "Trouble...Trouble...Trouble is coming". 

 I went to bed with a heavy heart that night saying my prayers to God with the hope of waking up in paradise. As I rolled on the sheets, I could hear the noise from the streets; people calling to whatever the served as gods. 

 The next morning, I was awoken by the screams and jubilation of the people. I could hear a talking drum beat in the distance....The prophet was wrong or maybe he couldn't hear the spirits again.

 "I shouldn't have believed the prophet", I muttered. I sat on my bed with my head in my hands feeling stupid. How could I take the word of a man as the will of God? How could I be setback because of some negative predictions? I vowed never to allow any man's words determine my feelings, actions or inactions.