Thought Picnic: Comparing my encounters with cancer

Comparing cancer treatments

Fifteen years ago, I was on the receiving end of a cancer diagnosis, and it was the first day of treatment with chemotherapy. Everything was predicated on my ability to tolerate the gruelling onslaught on my body that was eventually delivered every third week on a Monday for seven sessions.

By comparison, between chemotherapy then and radiotherapy today, the latter seems more tolerable though, just as exacting on your body. Chemotherapy was then necessary because, besides the obvious cancer lesions on one sole and the emanating tumours on the other sole, there was a likelihood that cancer could be in different parts of the body.

Rather than try to determine all the localisations of the cancer, chemotherapy with its cytotoxic ability to kill cancer and some healthy cells in the body seemed the best option against radiotherapy. In the case of prostate cancer, this was still contained and localised with the prostate gland and my options were between prostatectomy or radical radiotherapy, and I opted for the latter.

Effects on the body

In terms of side effects, chemotherapy knocked me out by the beginning of the third day, there was no strength to do anything and that was also exacerbated by the inability to keep food down so I had to be given anti-emetic medication. Within the first five days after chemotherapy, I also had to be careful that no one had any contact with my bodily fluids as it was toxic to healthy people.

I was not prepared for the shock of being cordoned off in my section of the hospital ward and any nurses who needed to draw blood had to take full hazardous materials (HAZMAT) precautions when approaching me. That little piece of detail was not communicated in our pre-treatment briefing.

While I believed I would survive Kaposi’s sarcoma, I do not think I was thinking of fifteen years ahead to reencounter cancer in my prostate gland. During the preview of options for treatment, I did ask if chemotherapy could be a treatment option for the prostate and the view was except in the case of metastasis, it was not a viable option.

Experience or newness

I guess my thinking was having tolerated chemotherapy well before, a second experience would not be as bad. However, it would have left me less able to do the usual things with the need for constant care and monitoring as I had back then in the Netherlands.

I write this not to celebrate cancer but out of gratitude and thankfulness that I have been fortunate to survive cancer and tell stories of the triumph of humanity over adverse events through medical intervention and so much more, the mercy and grace of God.

References

Blog - Waiting for chemo

Blog - A life of cytostatic ostracism

Blog - A primer on cancer and chemotherapy

Writing a miracle story

An odyssey at close

Ten years ago, I left the Netherlands to return to the UK with nothing more than a suitcase and a bag of hope. It was the end of my 13-year odyssey, everything I had enjoyed in life and means – a memory; as I had reached a turning point, to start all over again.

In the three years before my departure, my whole life had taken a big hit, what looked like Athlete’s foot in early 2009 was in fact, AIDS-defining cancer, Kaposi’s sarcoma which at the complete diagnosis presented a dilemma of truth my consultant frankly shared, that if I did not respond to the treatment they knew worked, I only had 5 weeks left.

In the aftermath of what I call the long tail of cancer, for those who have a story after surviving it, everything I owned, I had lost, including my home of ten and a half years which I sold at a loss. All attempts to restart my life in the Netherlands fell through, I was in a prodigal spiral in need of a change.

A trial of the times

Making the decision to return to the UK, which to me was my home country was met with opposition and against other counsel, I knew for my own sake, it was time to close that chapter. I wrote to six of my closest friends who I envisioned in my mind would be my pallbearers, I just did not know what time I had left.

In the last paragraph, I wrote, “I am hopeful that things will turn however without intending to sound morbid, if anything does happen to me by reason of the circumstances I have encountered, I will want to be seen by friends and be rested in the land of my birth.” I was not giving up; I was being as realistic as I could be without making assumptions about my future. [My eyes welled up as I read that letter again, I have come a long way, indeed.]

Writing a miracle story

I have been exceedingly blessed because goodness, mercy, and favour followed me. I got a UK mobile number, updated my CV, and started looking for jobs. Within 6 days of my return to the UK, I had secured a contract and a rate hike during negotiations to travel around Europe as an implementation lead. It was to last 6 months, but due to issues with the company in the US, it was canned within 6 weeks, maybe a misfortune of sorts, but I was getting back in my stride.

Looking back 10 years, I have lived a miracle, for with the condition I had, apparently, some medical studies suggested survivors did not live beyond a decade after the disease and we are in the baker’s dozen years, I am here, doing well, keeping well, living well, full of hope and prospects, truly, deeply, and madly in love with the most extraordinary man who swept into my life in December 2018, Brian is my joy.

There is so much to write about, but I want to celebrate life, the power of hope, the showers of blessing, the mercy of God, the love of the heart, the pursuit of happiness, the support and candour of friends, my wonderful parents who have travelled incredibly unimaginable journeys of my experiences, my siblings, siblings (nieces and nephews), and cousins, sadly departed uncles and friends, and the spirit that never gives up.

Thank you all for being part of my story.

Thought Picnic: When to bin the traditional hand-me-down rags of parental control

I was quite distressed

A few days ago, a video clip of a boy negotiating with his mother went viral. To many, it was pure entertainment, I, however, was very distressed by it that I do not intend to share it to propagate the scenario.

We have no backstory to the episode, but from what I could glean, the boy had done something wrong, probably seriously wrong for which there was to be some severe retribution. The boy crying with terror showing on his face, and in his terror was pleading with his mother to calm down, take a rest, or have a break before she unleashed her anger on him.

Some commentary suggested the boy was smart and trying to run rings around his mother. That is possible, especially when you know the kind of parents you have, you adopt strategies to escape their ire. The conversation mostly controlled by the boy was instructive and reflective, his mother is no doubt prone to irrational anger venting her frustration with severe punishments, else she would not have been advised to calm down.

Awareness lost to expediency

Towards the end, he asked to be given the last chance, the last chance in the world. That scared me like the boy could consider doing himself harm than face the wrath of his mother. None of this got through to his mother, she was insistent on beating him because somehow the boy had probably handled and broken something he was not supposed to touch. At the same time, he asked if his mother was videoing him.

This boy is aware, very much aware of himself and his failings, I am not sure his mother who decided to make a global show of his distress is half as much. In my view, a boy so mentally alert even at the imminent threat of harsh retribution needs to be dealt with in another way. The times when corporal punishment was the only tool parents, guardians or teachers had to command and demand the unflinching ultimate respect and fear of their wards is fast becoming useless.

Find better discipline tools

Corporal punishment is for mules and whatever your religious leanings, I would suggest it be the last resort having exhausted everything else and there is much to do, much more to learn to do to adapt to looking for more useful means of instruction than inflicting pain and nursing bleeding welts on the buttocks. The deprivation of freedoms or privileges with the prerogative of mercy is novel and yet effective.

I have watched some parents brutalise their wards in the quest for discipline and correction, sadly, the children now approaching middle-age are estranged, they do not have a wholesome relationship with their parents and that is sad. No, children do not outlive the cruelty meted out to them by their presumed protectors. Those who appear to do so are simply being pragmatic and able to compartmentalise usually for their own peace of mind in spite of and despite what they have suffered.

The future is a harsh judge

If you want a useful voice in the lives of your children, not so much to command or instruct them, but to have the honour of being approached from guidance when they are at crucial junctures of their walk of life, you need to review the hand-me-down rags of bad parenting and break that vicious generational cycle of visiting trauma instead of counsel.

Watch the child grow and begin to use reason and conversation, offer autonomy with good guidance on how to use the responsibility they have been offered, make mercy and forgiveness with consideration visible in times of disappointment or conflict. Find the expression of love beyond the provision of shelter, protection, sustenance and education, by being a bit emotional, because it shows you’re human and approachable. You can even give a hug and said the occasional “I love you, child.”, from deep in your heart.

You cannot tell how much that would mean to a child and how that would redound to their development in adulthood. These are the kinds of circumstances that make for good parent-child friendship and takes away the need for the child to scheme with cunning when they know they can trust you with anything going on in their lives.

Consider new possibilities

I am a man in my fifties, I have looked at many things about my relationship with my parents and other guardians. One uncle stands out as the one who gave me both the time and nurturing, we have one of the tightest relationships that even my parents would envy.

I would not be ambitious as to suggest how anyone should raise their children, but if you are going to make a public spectacle of them, ensure you are not making a worse spectacle of yourself in the process. Whilst many might agree with what she was about to do, I have no praise, commendation or encouragement, my disappointment cannot be more palpable for those who cannot learn from history, especially their own personal history are destined to repeat the failings of the past more worse than the precedent.

We can agree to disagree, but do not completely dismiss this perspective, I think it matters along with everything else in the toolbox of child-rearing. Thank you.

Some reference blogs

Blog - Childhood: My aunts saw red

Blog - Child sexual abuse requires greater parental indignation

Blog - Thought Picnic: House helps in the family setting

Blog - Thought Picnic: Don't mistake a troubled child for a bad one

Thought Picnic: The gospel was never about Karma

Not what I believe

“Coronavirus is not God’s judgment on the world. We need to stop preaching Christian Karma. The Cross of Christ destroys all Karma. God wants to save the world, not hurl disaster at it!” Dr Andrew Farley

Coronavirus is not God’s judgment on the world. We need to stop preaching Christian Karma. The Cross of Christ destroys all Karma. God wants to save the world, not hurl disaster at it!

— Dr. Andrew Farley (@DrAndrewFarley) March 23, 2020

This was a tweet that appeared to encapsulate ideas I have not been able to articulate for a while. The number of religious people who look for disasters to project of a version of a vengeful and truculent deity who can only gain our attention by visiting calamity and catastrophe on his creatures.

Too many times we have heard, after an earthquake, a tsunami, a hurricane, a plague, or some natural disaster, where hapless lives are lost in stories that never get told except in the sheer spectacle of the horror that leaves us with a sense of the fragility of life and the suddenness that could end it.

In comes a religious figure who in their Jeremiad finds a greatly unmistakable sign from on high, as if we are back to our primordial animist worship practices, the gods are angry and we need to bring sacrifices up to the temples, mountains or grottos to appease the gods to spare us from another disaster.

Come with Noah’s Ark

The Christian variety of the evangelical or charismatic strand are the biggest culprits, from prophets who see the evil to come but are rarely able, willing, or equipped to navigate their flock from the apparent wrath to come, but are ready to gain the fame of having foretold the passing of the disaster. Their revelation never goes as far as to be inspired to build a Noah’s Ark as a sanctuary from the many floods, saving life and more.

Neither do I believe in Christian Karma, I separate the revelation of the God of the Old Testament from the God introduced in the New Testament through the ministry of Jesus Christ. In my view, his only act of mischief would have been when he allowed the evil spirits in a possessed man to enter swine and that drove the swine into the sea, at which point those spirits would have needed to find other hosts. [Bible Gateway - A Demon-Possessed Man Healed]

Our capacity in calamity

Like a friend opined yesterday, he said apart from the fragility of humanity, there is a resilience and strength that cannot be fully understood, the capacity of man to face adversity and come out the stronger and wiser to life and purpose. The spirits could not destroy the man even though they made his life miserable and yet the swine had no capacity to handle those spirits, their entry was an immediate suicide run in the swine.

Anyway, one of the reasons I do not believe in the concept of Christian Karma was in the words of Jesus Christ himself, when you look at the verse after John 3:16, John 3:17 says it all, “For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.” (NKJV)

Salvation is not for retribution

You don’t save the world, believer or unbeliever, sinner, or saint, Christian, Gentile or any identity you might care to possess by destroying them. Condemnation is not the purpose, even if a natural disaster, plague, or some other adversity comes our way. The prevailing purpose, opportunity, and desire are to save, it is of salvation and triumph. That is not in any way the spirit of Karma.

So, it is with sadness when I could in my basest human instinct lay hold on Schadenfreude that I learnt that a preacher who thought COVID-19 was an exciting bout of mass hysteria had now fallen victim to the Coronavirus and passed away.

It’s a shame, I doubt his religious beliefs would have expected that, yet, we are only human. Things happen to us, but I hope in our story, we can take whatever happens and create a better happening. May his soul rest in peace and may his survivors be comforted and strengthened with fortitude in this time of loss. [RawStory]

Reeva Steenkamp: Sorry, still no justice for your murder

The rebuke and the circus

The greatest rebuke one can ever receive is one given to you by your professional peers when they question the decisions you have made and advise you to review your original conclusions.

Nowhere is this more obvious than to have the decisions of a judge firstly reversed on appeal, but to have the same case sent back to the same judge for reflection, review, and reconsideration.

The popular circus of Oscar Pistorius and the bit-player wielding the gavel in the person of Judge Thokozile Masipa returned to the glare of global media again today.

When the circus first came to town, it was incredulous that having had an introduction to Latin on the spectrum of offence resulting in the death of a victim and we need not go over that, Oscar Pistorius was found guilty of culpable homicide and a few minor offences resulting in a five-year jail term and a probationary period of three years for the other offences.

The appeal for justice

Oscar Pistorius did not languish in jail, he was out in about a year and fighting to stay free. Meanwhile, one can only commend the tenacity of the National Prosecution Agency that would not give up on the case, but appeal the judgment to a higher court.

When the court returned a judgement on appeal, it suggested Judge Masipa erred in her reading of the issue and concluded, Oscar Pistorius could not have been oblivious of the consequences of his actions, therefore, it could not have been culpable homicide, but murder. Oscar Pistorius’ appeal to the constitutional court failed and he returned to the court of Judge Masipa for sentencing. [Independent][CriminalLawZA]

Now, Oscar Pistorius has been sent to jail for the murder of Reeva Steenkamp for six years, just a year more than what he originally got for culpable homicide and nine years short of the recommended prison term for murder.

Mercifully unjust

It is clear that Judge Masipa has in many ways been sympathetic to Oscar Pistorius, in both the first case and this new sentencing, serving the needs for justice in her conception for Oscar Pistorius and seriously at the expense of the victim Reeva Steenkamp who died a horrific violent death at the hands of her boyfriend.

Justice, in order to retain its humanity, must be tempered with mercy, however, where the victim has no voice to state their case or grievance, it behoves the judge to give the greatest consideration to the voiceless, especially where the perpetrator has hired the best legal guns to shoot down the prosecution's case to smithereens.

For whatever Oscar Pistorius might have lost in career, in earnings, in freedom and much else, it cannot come close to having deprived a young woman with all to live for of her life in what was essentially an evil domestic violence situation. I have no cause to believe Oscar Pistorius’ explanation of the events of that fateful Valentine’s Day of 2013, everything he did was reckless in the extreme to be completely unforgivable.

We mourn still

However, for whatever reason yet unfathomable, he finds favour, grace, mercy and compassion at the actions of Judge Masipa, it feels like Reeva Steenkamp has become a side issue when the whole reason why we have had this odious circus was because Reeva Steenkamp was mercilessly slaughtered.

For the kind of justice that Oscar Pistorius has received, we might well say Reeva Steenkamp has now for a third time suffered an injustice, first at the hands of her boyfriend and twice at the hands of Justice Masipa.

We in our hearts mourn Reeva Steenkamp knowing she has been wronged again, just as many other women in South Africa and beyond have suffered fatalities in a domestic setting and are literally invisible as their murderers traipse off into the sunset getting away with murder.

Reeva Steenkamp – Rest in peace, it seems we would never get the justice you deserve and that is a deeply sad shame.

The Gift

I have a gift

It dawns on me daily as I write that I have a gift, a great gift like talent put to my care, to tend, to nurture, to grow, to use, to do many things to the glory of my creator.

They call it cognitive dissonance, the idea that we believe what we cannot logically explain, inexplicable but wondrous. Yet all around us nature breathes miracles of order and disorder, my perspective not dimmed that as order prevails over disorder, each day is a blessing to be thankful for.

Unforced expression

I know the power of originality, the spontaneity of inspiration, the presence of flow that comes with each moment I set my fingers to my keyboard with a thought seeded in my mind and growing on my screen as if possessed of something beyond conscious arrangement.

For many a time, I have started with something and ended with something else, the direction like a boat on the water, resting on the rocking of the waves even though a rudder ensures we reach the place, the place called a destination.

The gift comes in the first draft, a rough diamond of a gem, if that draft is lost to the ravages, imperfections or careless use of technology, I am left with signs that a gift has been used but I can never reproduce that original stream of inspiration. My memory only recollects what it believes it has seen rather than what my brain has first processed, it remains a wonder when I read back to myself what I have done.

The talent

Yes, the gift shows up in many of the things I have written, that is because of use, it is not because it has been perfected but because there is a realisation that ability exists. God-given ability.

Then I confessed to a niece as I have confessed to a friend and maybe too many others in one way or the other about this gift. For it is not one that comes for the reason of money, of fame or of glory, for it brings something greater, it brings honour. I have learnt to be grateful for the absence of popular recognition but the abundance of honour from those who know and know it well.

“I am coming to the realisation that somehow I have been blessed with a gift, yet, like the one talent given to that servant, it has been buried for the fear that I might not use as well as I am supposed to.”

Such great honour

Each time I recognise the blessing of the gift I have, I feel like the servant who was given just one talent according to his ability.

I know I am no accomplished author, no distinguished writer, no recognised commentator, I would win no prizes, I would make no lists, but the gift has enduring quality. Buried as it seems to be, the talent has not increased like it increases for many whose talent feeds them, but its value is undiminished.

One talent, used for over 10 years, giving words to deep things of experienced life from the ordinary to the deep, from the joy to the pain, and now, I come into 2014 full of gratitude as I unearth this one talent and pledge not to be fearful and ungrateful, but to find ways to use it better and increase it.

To give voice to the voiceless, to give hope to the hopeless, to encourage those facing defeat, disease, despair, disgrace, debt, denigration, denudement and much else, for I know by experience and observation many of these things have tried to take cornerstones in my life, but have been smashed to smithereens.

As I began writing this, I was listening Steven Furtick of Elevation Church on the New Year’s Eve party and he said, “Count your battles* and consider them blessings.” @stevenfurtick

*The battles that didn't beat you

*The beatings that didn't break you.

This is God

This is beyond counting our blessings, and yes I have had battles, prominent amongst them is my battle with cancer in 2009. I have had many other battles and beyond measure I am blessed above anything I have ever deserved to wake up each morning to new life, to new hope, to new things and new inspiration.

That is grace, that is favour, that is mercy, that is kindness, that is love, and that is God.

Take it or leave it, believe it or not, because Albert Einstein is considered one of the greatest minds that ever lived, soon after he died, his brain was removed by Thomas Stoltz Harvey for analysis. Then, he did not think there was much special about the brain until recent science suggested differently. [NPR]

In the knowledge of 1955 pathology, that gray matter was no different from that which we all have except for what the man who lived in the body that had the brain did with it.

Know your gift

And so, as we realise the gifts bestowed on us, let us know to use them better for application, for usefulness, for increase, for good, for honour, for goodness, for humanity and for the glory of God, whether you believe or not.

The talent you have is useless when there is no life in the body that needs to utilise and express the wonder of the unique and amazing gift you have. Each of us is unique, as you can read from the stories shared on my #YourBlogOnMyBlog Series, 24 to date with 11 stories to go to commemorate my Decade of Blogging.

Blog - To Celebrate My Decade of Blogging

Use your gift

This gift opens doors, as I was made to realise after discussing how I got 35 people out of 44 confirmed interactions to submit blogs from the 9^th of December to Christmas Day inclusive.

This without as much as a strict deadline but through sheer persuasion with the greatest latitude given them to write anything that takes their fancy. I am blessed, and I am thankful, full of gratitude the gift has not given me enough words to express yet.

You have a story, you have a gift, you are talented, let it shine. That is my resolution for 2014, to be as expressive as I can ever be of this amazing gift and bring increase to the talent placed in my care. My responsibility can no more be left to others to wonder why it is being wasted or being left unused. Think on this.

Happy New Year, Happy 2014.

Thought Picnic: Winning the battle of ifs

Unrefined

The thoughts in this blog are still unravelling, the words working into a framework and yet without a clear indication of what the structure will be. One of those ones.

Friends

I was speaking to a friend of 27 years standing yesterday [The use of 'standing' is more Nigerian-English parlance for stress and emphasis in speech.], and I mean a friend, one who just about knows enough of my deep secrets to keep them safe regardless of what happens to us or between us.

Yes, I have that kind of friendship and only three people stand in the place, the stature, the element and the knowledge of what is the I of me. I cherish them for they are the winds beneath my feeble wings.

Struggles

As we conversed, I told him of the many things I have been doing to match up; interviews I have attended and stuttered in, stumbled through or flunked badly, seemed to reveal personal inadequacies of knowledge, depth, ability or experience, many of which I was struggling to fix or patch up with limited success – I’ve been running out.

Out of steam, out of ideas and still juggling balls of doubts and fears in the swirling winds of worry and anxiety, this all requires an intervention.

The intervention came in the words of my friend, he reminded me that there is no job I have ever embarked on, no matter how challenging that I have not performed well in – that is true.

Chance

There are jobs where at interview I have been promoted to a higher role for the depth of knowledge or wealth of experience I had, but not in that particular activity or use of certain sets of tools in the job specification, I found favour and they were favourable towards me.

Whilst ability is important, my friend indicated that I may not or will not get through on ability alone and what matters might come down to likeability, favourability, maybe personality or amiableness.

Chance is opportunity and timing meeting at the point of access and before me is an open door where many before have been closed.

Faith

I remember my toughest battles and realise that I have thrived the most when I have let go. Buoyed on my faith and my beliefs, the times when I was weakest facing death are when I have accepted where I am to gain strength to move on and live.

Therefore, my friend was saying to my hearing words I have spoken to my many friends in their own difficult times, a healthy form of plagiarism, considering my recent blogs. For the biggest battle is in the mind and then in the mind-set – shift those mind-sets and things begin to shift, the sense of being overwhelmed lifts for you to latch onto the possibility of overcoming.

I must live full of gratitude and thankfulness for the many things that have become my story.

If

I was caught in a battle of personal ifs making me inadequate for challenges where I should use the divine knows to take me beyond my learnt and limiting limitations.

“If I could, I would, BUT I am, I can, I do, I will, I excel.” The 'BUT' in that quote is my struggle; it is the bridge most difficult to cross.

Whereas, that same bridge is sure, is strong and is built to withstand all influences, the first step and the next step, one after the other to the other side – I can, I have to regain the belief I can and go to do.

Favour

Favour and mercy – Finding approval of those who have the power to decide might partly result from your ability, but it is rarely as objective as that. The liking people might have towards you is the difference between being presentable, which is what you can do, and being acceptable which is their prerogative.

For those who believe, the variable that is not in your power to control is the one that either finds you helpless or the one where your prayer is to find favour and in finding favour you gain entry.

Trust

Know to commit, know to pray, and know to trust, for the one that trusts will find the wind that lifts beyond fears, doubts and anxieties to excel in courageous exploits.

I am a man of faith, I trust in God, where I have been weakest and unable to produce but realised that He is my rock, the fall is never to the ground to shatter into smithereens but into loving arms of assurance – He has got my back and this journey; I will come through with a better story. That is the power of hope above despair.

Thank you, God. “Lo, I come (in the volume of the book it is written of me, to do they will, O God).” Hebrews 10:7

There is a destiny to fulfil written to a script of assurances and promises, never inadequacies; that understanding is what I must gain and appreciate better. I am loved; I should begin to love myself more.

Thought Picnic: No Parable of the Prodigal Friend

The Prodigal Friend

I wondered why Jesus never told a parable of the prodigal friend, He did tell one of a prodigal son and the redeeming power of fatherly love despite the failings of that son who justifiably should have been consigned to the scrapheap.

The story of realisation and reconciliation is both profound and deep; it is however amazing how that could easily be seen in real life.

As I thought on this, I realised there was no need for a parable of the prodigal friend because friends have a particularly practical significance that is either of clear dedication or sad betrayal.

The involved friends

The practical example of this friendship was demonstrated at a meeting Jesus had in a house where he was teaching, the house was so crowded full of the Pharisees and scribes that no one else could have access.

A lame man had four of his friends help him to that venue, no doubt with the view to having the miraculous power of Jesus heal him. When they could not get into the house, they climbed on the roof, removed the roofing tiles and let their friend down into the midst of the crowd in the presence of Jesus.

As the story goes, Jesus saw their faith and with that he told the lame man his sins were forgiven and he should pick up his bed and walk, which he promptly did to the marvel all present to see the miracle and the consternation of those who debated the issue of forgiveness of sins.

What was clear was what the friends did to contribute to the lame man’s access to healing, most importantly, they wanted him fit and able as themselves than for him to be limited in his interaction with them – a prodigal friend of sorts.

The Prodigal Brother

Conversely, what is said of the brother of the prodigal son is interesting that I am inclined to call him the prodigal brother by reason of the fact that he had status, opportunity and privilege but failed to realise any of that until when he noticed the merciful and loving expression of his father to his brother.

What he always had with his father but never deigned to live in the fullness of, led to his nursing resentment, anger and offence at what was so avoidable if he had availed himself of the standing and the reality of who he was.

Friends can stick closer than a brother, a friend showed such great love that he laid down his life for his friends. It is a matter of character and personality to find friends who are ready to bear you down in your bed into the presence of the biggest miracle of your life – friends are experience and much more but we need discernment to determine true friends from fair-weather friends or just mere acquaintances.

For those who have felt betrayed by those they call friends, have mercy and keep the ones that do really care. For there comes a time when friends do matter, because then, we are totally helpless and needful of them.

Note: The first publication of this blog was full of errors, I probably should have left writing it until the morrow, but I was determined to get it out. In any case, my friend @zebbook on Twitter noticed the poor editing and discreetly informed me of the poor copy. I hope I have repaired the damage; else, I’ll have another look when the daze of my pills wears off. Thanks Bukola.

Somali woman mercilessly stoned to death

This Islam is strange

This aspect of Islam is one I find so unfamiliar and devoid of any iota humanity, it loses the real function of religion and lets a kind of evil barbarity lose on a hapless people.

A 20-year old “adulteress” was stoned in Somalia [1] whilst her boyfriend was given 100 lashes of the blessed rod for his sins.

Sometimes I wonder who gives the judges the domineering influence over people to the extent that they can take life without mercy on the premise of the adherence to a religion or creed.

My Muslim heritage

At the risk of being labelled as someone who does not understand the vagaries of Islam or Sharia law, it is really beside the point that I do have a Muslim heritage in that my paternal grandfather was Muslim and so is my uncle.

If I ever met any two people who ooze with humanity, compassion and humility, I would put those two Muslims at the front of the line, so it really baffles me when I hear of these rather heinous acts of crime and punishment procedures that terrorise people in conformity rather than persuade of them of a goodly situation.

Does Sharia law know mercy?

This was a 20-year old girl who really could have been mercifully forgiven, put under the care of a matriarch who could help her mend her “immoral” ways and make her a better citizen in the society in which she lives.

In fact, the harbingers of “real” Sharia law whose outlook does not include the concept of leniency surely should in their prayers for mercy and forgiveness to God not expect to find any mercy from the god they worship, who in their minds allows for this kind of violence in the name of justice and purity.

Casting the first stone

What I even find most primitive as to label it Neanderthal is that they can find people who would willingly pick up stones and stone a half-buried woman to death with all the blood, screaming and goriness of it all – is our humanity really that inured to any feeling that people cannot for once constrain themselves and jointly appeal for some sympathy?

At this point one wishes there were a Rabbi like in the times of Jesus [2] who whilst not condoning the adulteress highlighted the fact that sin is sin, from the little white lie to the seemingly egregious act of adultery. He sanctioned the punishment of stoning but asked that the one without sin cast the first stone – even amongst the most pious of the adherents in Somalia, none can be so pure to have been able to cast the first stone.

Entertained with death

In what can only be a kind of bizarre sense of satisfaction, no men ever get stoned for adultery – women always seem to get the rotten end of justice – as if the public enjoy the wail of death as the woman’s blood gets splattered all over the ground and the judges applaud themselves for having such great control over the people.

The last thought in this matter should be deep enough for anyone to understand and it must be true for all intents and purposes in this world and hereafter. “They who show no mercy, no matter what cause they stand for; deserve no mercy ever.”

Sources

[1] BBC News : Somali woman stoned for adultery

[2] John 8:3-11 - Passage Lookup - New Living Translation - BibleGateway.com

Religion for bitter or better people

Left as kids and lost as adults

In the light of recent events, let us examine the matter of crime, punishment, rehabilitation and social consequence.

Our liberalising values have consigned the heretofore corporal punishment as a deterrent to children and juveniles to the moniker of barbarism as we try to reason with toddlers and attempt to bribe adolescents to be socially responsible.

Certain commentators would opine that discipline in our youth is a big problem and as we have come up with innovative ways of curtailing their freedoms they have likewise come up with more bizarre ways of thumbing their noses at society. The growing prevalence of gun and knife crime as well as social ills like juvenile drunkenness, pregnancy and anti-social demeanour has its roots in things we have left undone in the formative years.

Doing the law with flaws

One then questions the fairness of meting out strict, strong and extreme punishments for crimes committed as adults when as children the issues of actions, consequences and responsibility had been deprecated in favour of rights of the child over any other important aspect of upbringing.

The result is, we end up with bitter people rather than better people; this concept turns on the application of religious laws enacted in times when men were illiterate, living in feudal societies, subject to the whims of those in power who acted with impunity, when not much value was placed on life and self-respect was about knowing your place in society – a position from which you never saw promotion.

I worry about the gap between religious adherence and social consequence; one law would require that the hands of thief be cut off as punishment, another would suggest that he who steals should steal no more and engage in work – one executes wrath whilst the other embraces mercy – it should not take a social scientist to determine who would end up the bitter person and who would end up the better person.

Irreversible punishments

The person who has his hands cut off becomes a social misfit, unable to work as the law applied does not cater for rehabilitation to re-enter society, whilst the person is a sign; a deterrent – making examples of people without the recourse for possible reversal or correction is both barbaric and unjust.

There are however societies that remain backward and unprogressive, shackled to religious tenets that prevent the people from becoming part of the more emancipated global village.

No doubt public flogging is meant to humiliate, but having exacted grievous bodily harm in keeping with the letter of the law one wonders if there is a social element that help the punished nurse the wounds and regain self-confidence before they are caught in a downward spiral of infection, shame, depression, seclusion and isolation.

Leniency and mercy

There must be an element of mercy in the administration of punishments; not so much the leniency of cutting off one hand instead of both hands or reducing the number of floggings but total exculpation, with the person realising that they have been spared horrors and given another chance.

Unfortunately, some belief systems excel at punishment, manage aspects of leniency, grudgingly attempt mercy, fail woefully at forgiveness and know nothing of absolution. They make no provision for rehabilitation and do not accommodate societal changes that would entertain another perspective, they in fact, do much to make bitter men than better men.

Old teachings in new times

We need to check as see if the teachings we received of old have become out-dated in these civilised and modern times. The consequences of certain punishments may in the eyes of the conservatives look like justice but to observers might appear as mean, unpersuadable, illiberal, intemperate and usually quite immature.

If I got upset every time I was called names and sought to mete out the most severe revenge in the name of some perverse form of justice, I would be considered an impossible person without self-control – contrast that with being able to rise above it all – that is a sign of maturity and in some cases a high self-esteem.

Adherents really need to review their perception of their religious dogma and the laws they so fervently espouse more to visiting violence on others than stepping forward and boldly owning up to their own misdeeds.

In essence, one wonders if religious laws have a civilising effect on society or they just suspend endearing qualities of humanity which include reason, analysis and thought in the selfish need to maintain a strangle-hold on the people and keeping them in the dark from other humane perspectives

As a point to ponder, if there were better prosthetics, would the person whose hands were cut off be allowed to take that therapy?