Poetic-Verses
CORONATION DAY 2020
Few things repeat themselves. To be King or Queen of England, you must be the direct descendant of King David. As for me, I was so privileged to be one without even knowing, even as a black boy who never even knew his ancestry. Someone had once commented on how turfy my eyelashes looked, funnily calling me "a wizard", since I spoke about witchcraft more than anyone else they'd met. The last person to be so favored before me, was our Queen, Elizabeth II of England. My father died while I was six, the same year my wife was born, and I was born in 1981, the year Prince Charles wedded. I had known from age four through a set of visions I had I will be King even without a trace of evidence. And it was hard for anyone to believe an "African" boy. Then, at age fifteen, I came across C. S. Lewis' book, The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, the first in the series of The Chronicles of Narnia. Then I decided to write mine. It did not happen till I became twenty-five, and no matter how I did, it wounded down in a form akin to a gift I alone had called CRYPTOLOGY: I just knew how to make witty statements and hide the meaning of words. C. S. Lewis had spoken about a set of four kids whose birth order reflected in my own personal family, with the third child, Edmund (my father called me Effiong, meaning, Moon) having an experience similar to that which I had in an arduous experience with witchcraft, having been sleepless for thirty-five years, with the fact that the condition worsened from when I turned fifteen, as invisible people beat me and threatened to kill me. I would wound down at the local nervous hospital in Africa as one of the earliest cases of cerebral malaria as at the year 1998 and would be a patient of that hospital for twenty-one years when contrary to practice, I was one of the about only 3% of patients discharged in 2020. Now, it had become spread so wildly in town, that one choir or church boy had become raving mad, with the implication that people literally said of me: "there goes the mad man". I will not forget how my heart broke when a colleague of mine in the local University I attended in Calton, on opening my bag once and finding so many psychotropic drugs recepits, called me jocularly "PSYCHA", meaning a mad man. I must apologize, I cursed him, and though one of the best brains in school, he left school without a certificate of attendance. I will not forget the night when I was to be killed in this hospital on my 29th birthday, a sort of birthday gift, when a consultant I am not aggrieved with at all, a good old friend I respected so much, called from Austria that I should be killed. I had become like that proverbial wretched sick cow which could be killed so carelessly like killing a man with a venge. When I later related the incidence, everyone said it was a symptom of "the illness" until it was later proven in court, when the collaborators aceeded without force they did it. What was termed insomnia had become mood swings, epilepsy, angina (heart pains which lasted seven years), dementia, paranoia, Manic-depressive Disorder and finally, schizophrenia. Added to it was the fact that I refused to take the drugs as I knew I was supervised by the wrong hands who could not be trusted, witches and wizards, magicians that went for health practitioners in Africa, who demonized drugs, killed patients and made conditions worse than they were before even while undergoing or administering treatment. So, I couldn't trust them. I would not forget when it was as bad as feeling my brain was smashed severally in the cranium and eaten by witchcraft forces, or when I was told I had suffered a brain and spinal cord injury (which still affects how I walk today). I always believed while working out my salvation with fear and trembling as a dreamer that one day, destiny would deliver. It did!
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CORONATION DAY 2020
CORONATION DAY 2020
