oppression - Jenniferinspires

FEAR IS THE ENEMY

On a bright afternoon one day in the little town of Gaza, a young Israelite man gathered the wheat he had previously harvested from his father’s farm with the aim to separate the grain from the chaff so it can serve as food for his family. Before he could do so he had to make sure it was safe, so he walked around the house to make sure no one was watching. When he was certain no one was watching, he lifted the bundle unto his shoulders, snuck out the back door and ran into an abandoned wine press behind the family house. The young man is Gideon, the last son of Joash, an Israelite farmer who settled in that town several years beforehand due to the richness of the soil fit for agriculture. Joash and his family were doing well until a few years later when soldiers from the neighboring town of Media started to harass and steal from the farmers of his town. It used to be a small theft from any farmer that fell victim to their tactics, however, in the past seven years, it has become a wild and constant raid that stripped the whole town of food, leaving many families at the point of near starvation. The inhabitants of Gaza felt helpless to confront these thieves especially since many of them were soldiers. Instead, the Gaza community stealthily harvested, processed and stored their food in secret. That afternoon, as Gideon worked quietly and quickly, but he was startled when from the corner of his eye he noticed a man sitting under the large oak tree a few meters away from him. He could almost swear that no one was in that spot when he ran past the tree with his sack of wheat. The face looked unfamiliar so he prayed under his breath he was not a Median. He quickly covered the wheat in an effort to hide it. “Can I help you?” Gideon asked nervously “Mighty hero, the Lord is with you!” The man nodded at him politely. “He sounds friendly. Maybe he is not an enemy.” Gideon thought to himself but it was too early to conclude. He moved closer for a closer look. The man is elderly and does not have the arrogant aural of a Midian. In fact his disposition is completely serene. He must not be from around here. And he if mentioned ‘The Lord’ he must be familiar with the God of Israel. “Sir,” Gideon replied, “If the Lord is with us, why has all this happened to us? And where are all the miracles our ancestors told us about? Didn’t they say, ‘The Lord brought us up out of Egypt? But now the Lord has abandoned us and handed us over to the Midianites.” The man stared steadily at Gideon and instead of replying his questions he said “Go with the strength you have, and rescue Israel from the Midianites. I am sending you!” Gideon was astonished at the way the man addressed him. He concluded that it is either this man has lost his mind or is a total stranger. First, his father has many sons and he, being the last, does not come close in strength or experience to any of his seniors. Besides, anyone who has stayed in that town would know how notorious and dangerous the Midian soldiers were. They would squash anything that attempts to stand in their way. Gideon decided to help this stranger understand the situation. “But Lord,” Gideon replied, “How can I rescue Israel? My clan is the weakest in the whole tribe of Manasseh, and I am the least in my entire family!” The man said to him, “I will be with you. And you will destroy the Midianites as if you were fighting against one man.” Gideon was stunned for a moment. “I will be with you….I will be with you.” Why does that line sound familiar? Then as if a veil was lifted away from the eyes of his mind he sensed he was not talking to an ordinary person. His father had told him stories of how many of his ancestors encountered and entertained Angels unaware. Angels are servants of the most High God and this man could be one but to be sure he decided to test him. Gideon replied, “If you are truly going to help me, show me a sign to prove that it is really the Lord speaking to me.” He asked the man to stay where he was until he returned. The man agreed. “I will stay here until you return.” Gideon went away and prepared his offering and afterwards proved that the stranger was indeed an Angel. Yet, he maintained that he was not good enough to go on such a mission as the Angel was suggesting. He did finally obey and rescued his people from the oppression of the Midianites but not until he had tested and retested the word of the promise to him. Meaning that if God had not appeared to Gideon through an Angel, he would never have realized his own strength nor done anything that heroic in his lifetime. Note that the potential to carry out the great feat was already residing in him when the Angel came to him. I believe that at different times before his encounter with this Angel he must have nursed the desire to do something to bring the activities of the Medians to check but never physically saw himself as capable of doing so. That feeling still holds true for many people today. The burning passion to do something or make a difference would be present but the fear of inadequacy has a way of preventing action. I retold this story to illustrate that the fear of inadequacy can be so great that it undermines ability and limits achievements. In our world today, this kind of fear can present itself as avoiding to apply for a position one

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WHY THE FLAG WON’T FLY

7 Comments / Blog, Short Stories

Written by Jennifer Azubuike Fayemi appeared in the living room in khaki shorts and a singlet with a small bag slung over her right shoulder. She carried her sneakers across the room and without a word to her mother, dumped them just outside the front door before going back inside. A couple minutes later, she re-emerged with a t-shirt over her singlet unbuttoned and seemed ready to hurry out the door. “Where are you going, young woman?” Fayemi was reluctant to reply. She knew her mother would not support her joining a potentially volatile thing as a protest. She had waited for the elderly woman to leave the house before going out but Mami lingered and didn’t seem to be going anywhere soon. Besides, there’s been pressure mounting on Fayemi from watching the protest unfold online. She craved to be part of it; to be part of the peaceful protests that have been going on nationwide for about a week, including in her city. “I am going to the protest, Mami.” “Which protest?” Thank you for reading! The rest of this story will be available in a book coming soon. Read other interesting stories here

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Wind of Judgement 2

Leave a Comment / Christian/Biblical content, Short Stories

By Jenn Azu “We expect him to come around soon.” A male voice said. “His vitals are stable but we will keep him on ventilation until he comes out of coma.” “Thank you doctor.” Replied a familiar female voice. At first, the blurred images above me moved sluggishly like tall trees and my body felt too heavy when I tried to move. Where in the world was I and why are trees talking? I heard some footsteps and it seemed someone or people walked away. “You will be fine honey.” The female voice whispered close to my head and at the same time a soft hand caressed my arm. “You will walk out of this place on your own two feet.” I recognized the voice this time, it’s my wife’s. I have missed her. I wanted to scream and hold her but still could not move. I could not understand why my body would not obey my desire to move. I struggled awhile within and was about to give up when I heard her start to cry. Her cry did a solid blow to my heart. I could be all shades of evil but not heartless to my wife. I have always known she is one good thing, if not the only good choice, I ever made. How do I tell her I can hear her? I felt helpless. What happened to me anyway? “Honey you are crying!” She suddenly said with awe in her voice. “Oh my God! Those are tears running down your temple. That means you are awake. Hallelujah! Praise God.” She said pulling her hands away from me momentarily. I imagined she threw them up in the air in worship as typical of my very religious wife. I had adored every bit of this woman except her piousness. When I first met my wife, she had no particular religion, yet conservative. In fact, she first caught my attention because she was extremely beautiful but modest which was a rare combination among girls her age. However, I fell in love with her for her personality. She was innocent, shy, introspective and intelligent. It was two years after our marriage she started changing. Not that she deviated from her normal self. She just became deeply religious. “Dear, I enjoyed us more when you had no religion or made obeisance to no god like me.” I would complain. “Honey, every man worships a ‘god.’ People just don’t think of it that way but they do.” She would retort. “How do you mean?” “Some people worship money, some fame, and some others worship pleasures like appetite, sex, alcohol etcetera.” “Those things are normal to life, dear. They don’t make demands or have laws to abide by as your faith and God demands.” “And that is exactly why no one sees their idols as ‘gods’ but whatsoever reins control over a man is his god and they do make demands too.” “How? ” I wanted to understand her view point “Take money for example, to be rich, one has to dedicate time and resources and also understand the rules of building wealth and follow them tenaciously. In doing all of this, a man will be following the laws of money and striving to meet the demands of owning it.” Listening to my wife at moments like that make me a proud husband. Not for what she was trying to defend for that makes no sense to me but that she understood things like ‘rules to build wealth’ well enough to use it for her analogy. “There is nothing wrong in making money, dear. It answers to our needs.” “Money is not wrong in itself but when a person cheats or kills to get hold of it, it has become his or her god.” She would explain. At such point, I would shake my head and give up on the conversation because I may start to feel condemned by her responses if I pushed any further. I did not understand why someone would have so much reverence for an unseen God and believe so strongly in a book written about that God that they try to practice whatever is written in it regardless of how inconvenient it may be to them. One day, Michele had told me that her God does not approve of sex outside of marriage. Not that I approve of unfaithfulness for the married but I don’t see anything wrong with the young unmarried ones choosing to express their natural emotions. What? Are they supposed to repress their emotions until they are married? Such unintelligent and stupid set of laws to follow. it makes no sense. I’d shake my head that the thought. I still loved my wife but maintained my hatred and distance from her religion or any religion until I ran into trouble at work. At the time, I was only a junior inspector of police who managed a police unit. The adult son of a state governor was accused of crime and was kept in the custody of my unit until his trial. Unfortunately, My team was attacked on our way to court on the day of trial by a gang of armed men and the man got kidnapped. Not only was I afraid of losing my job, I was afraid for my life because top powerful people quickly got involved. I still clearly remember my distress that period. I was stripped of my uniform and sent home to await my fate while intense search continued for the missing person. “Honey, the boy will be found.” My wife blurted two days later while serving dinner. “How do you know? And he is not a boy.” I sneered “While I was praying this afternoon, the Lord impressed it on my heart that he will be found.” She insisted. “He will be found before the end of Thursday. His captors will cheat on themselves and one of them will spill the truth.” Needless to say it happened

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Wind of Judgement

Leave a Comment / Christian/Biblical content, Short Stories

By Jenn Azu It was on a dark and lonely road like one of the bush paths in a rural village. I was lying there on my back struggling with this creature trying to strangle me. At a closer look, it has the shape of a man but faceless. It also has no legs and seemed to move with the wind but its strength is ten times that of an ordinary man. At first, it had chased me sore with a glittering sword in hand until I fell over. It pinned me down to the ground and was overpowering me when I remembered that my wife had once mentioned that a man in the bible fought with an angel and won. So, I tried to do a rollover maneuver and landed on the tiled floor of my room with a loud thud. It had been a dream. I laid down there for a minute breathing heavily as I pondered over the dream. Ever since my last operation, it has been one terrible dream or the other. The man I have in custody is not an ordinary man, I knew, but my dreams are definitely telling me there’s something more. “But why me?” I queried. “I am only carrying out instructions from the President.” I tried to raise myself from the floor but felt an ache in my side which must have resulted from the impact of my fall. My bed is thirty inches high so I prayed silently not to have broken something. As I pulled myself up to sit on my bed, a cold mysterious air blew in my face and sent shivers up my spine. I looked straight at the window, it is shut. The air conditioner is also turned off. Where could that wind be coming from? As I surveyed the room to determine the source of the cold air, I felt it again but this time as a light touch on my bare back. My heart went cold in my chest as it dawned on me that I was not alone. The curtains hanging over the window starts dancing to the move of the wind as if the window is open. The creature followed me to real life? I wondered in shock. I felt the strong presence of a being even though I saw no one. “What do you want from me?” I cried. By this time half my body felt paralyzed. “I say who are you and what do you want from me?” There was silence. The thoughts of my wife crossed my mind and I wished she was home. I quickly reached for her bible on our bedside drawer and opened it to find anything that could help. I know very little about prayer, but I remember how my wife does it and will mimic her. I opened to the book of Psalms and my eyes caught chapter two. “Why do the nations conspire and the peoples plot in vain? The kings of the earth rise up and the rulers band together against the Lord and against his anointed…” “What?” My eyes widened at what I read. I hissed and was going to turn the pages for something more comforting when suddenly a voice invaded my thoughts. It is unmistakably clear and certainly not my own. “Continue!” The voice commanded and I did. “The One enthroned in heaven laughs; the Lord scoffs at them. He rebukes them in his anger and terrifies them in his wrath.” I read aloud and stopped. “Please who are you and what do you want from me?” I cried. “Don’t kill me.” “How dare you touch the Lord’s anointed?” The voice said I could have feigned ignorance of what the voice referred to but that was not possible because at that instance I understood the question. “I am a police inspector sir. I am only doing the bidding of the President. Please don’t kill me.” “Like Your master, you are judged!” It said. My actions in the past months played before me in quick moving frames and for the first time I saw the evil I am. I had been appointed to my position six months ago by my country’s President. It was for his selfish desire to carry out dark deeds and have his tracks covered. He fed off of my greed and ruthlessness. The moral decadence in the force tripled under my watch. There were extortions and careless killings by the police I ignored. Personally, I have oppressed and eliminated people who the President desired eliminated. Many were his political opponents or activists whose activism threatened his presidency. Last month, a staunch political opponent of the president had been very outspoken about the incompetence of his leadership and rallied for impeachment. When I received the president’s call to take this opponent out, I arranged for his kidnap, did a quick job that included charing his remains. He was simply declared missing and has remained missing. The man in my custody is a pastor. Him like others is outspoken. At first, it was difficult to track him down but rounding up his family smoked him out of hiding. I was not afraid to lay hands on him because I thought he was like any other man. “I am sorry. Please don’t kill me.” I cried. A soft hissing sound blew across the room and I felt life draining out of me. Suddenly, my phone rang. I pushed back on the prevailing weakness and picked the call to cry for help. “The President is dead.” Said the voice at the other end and my heart failed. I simply gave in to the force pulling my life away and darkness took over.

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