Written by Kolade Segun-Okeowo
NO 1, DESTRUCTION AVENUE,
OFF CONDEMNATION ROAD,
REPUBLIC OF HELL FIRE.
DECEMBER 25, 2007.
MR, CHRISTIAN DO-GOOD,
C/0 FORSAKEN PENTECOSTAL ASSEMBLY,
P.O. BOX 666,
I simply use the word ‘dear’ to address you because I really don’t know what else to use. Besides, time will not permit me to think of other acronym. I have been given only fifteen minutes to write this letter.
Initially they gave me only five minutes, but after strong appeals and tears, they permitted me. I was told by fellow sufferer here in hell that such acts of mercy are unheard of. Any way I’m saying all these for you to know the gravity of this letter I’m writing to you. Don’t ever think you are dear to me. In fact you are everything to me but dear.
As I am writing now, I hate you with all my spirit, soul; and body. If only you know what pain I’m going through here, you will not be surprised to see the tears stains that have dotted this paper all over.
You must remember me very well. You couldn’t have forgotten about me so soon. I died only last month through the bullets of armed robbers who way-laid my car along the Sagamu–Benin expressway.
I was your friend for more than five years. Have you forgotten how we met? Not so soon. Let me take you briefly into memory lane…
I met you in the final year of our stay at the University. As finalists, we were both entitled to decent school accommodation, thus we were accommodated in the same room on the topmost floor of Awolowo Hall. I remember vividly how you welcomed me that day I moved into the room. You had arrived a week before me. You welcomed me warmly and even offered to share your dinner with me. I enjoyed your company.
You were such a nice fellow. I envied your way of life. I recall vividly that while I went around the campus sowing wild oats with girls of easy virtue, you were busy with your books and fellowship activities. Though you told me all I was doing was bad, you never for once share the gospel with me. You never told me there was Heaven and hell. You did not tell me my way of life would lead me to hellfire. You simply condemned me.
I remember the day I brought a girl to sleep in our room; you rained abuses on me and called me names. You said what I was doing was evil; you said I should beware of AIDS. Though I never caught AIDS; but how I wished you told me something greater than AIDS was waiting for me.
Christian! Why? Why did you not take the effort to sit me down one day and tell me about all the things I’m now hearing in hell.
One of my torturers confirmed that you knew what I needed to have been saved but you kept it away from me. I overheard one of them talking to their master, the chief torturer that he sealed your mouth and planted the spirit of timidity in your heart so that you will not be able to tell me what I needed to be saved. Why? Christian, why did you release yourself to their enchantment at my own expense!
Ooouch…!!! That was a painful one. I have just received the seventeenth lash of the whip since I started writing this letter! Yes! They kept on beating me even as I write. The pain is excruciating, but I’ve determine that I must write to you. The fire here is in describable. It’s hotter than heat of the furnace in a steel rolling mill. I wish I will just die, but they told us we would not die, no matter the pain.
I thought they where joking. I thought they only meant to scare us. I told myself there was no way I could survive the fire for more than sixty seconds, but I was wrong! I’ve been here for twenty–seven days and not even one of my fingers have been burnt, rather the pain keeps increasing every day.
Oh! I want death!
Christian, do you remember that you and your friends in the fellowship even came to the room regularly to pray and to do bible studies? On each occasion, they all greeted me and carefully avoided me thereafter. I was like a plague. Why did you all do that to me? Not even one of you could take the audacity to walk up to me and speak about Jesus.
Christian, I thought you loved me by sharing your food with me, but I now realize that the best love you could have shown was to tell me about the salvation of my soul, but you did not. I did not even know that it was the salvation experience you had already got that made you such a gentle creature. I simply thought you were a moralist or some kind of cool-headed guy. Why did you not tell me it was Jesus who changed your life?
I could have been saved from this torment. Can you imagine? That was the very first thing they asked me as soon as I got here? I thought I was dreaming! They asked if I was saved. Since I did not understand what the angel was saying I told him to repeat himself. He asked if I accepted Jesus as my LORD and SAVIOUR while on earth. I said no.
The angel shook his head and start opening a fat book. He checked through the fat book that was bigger than one hundred volumes of an encyclopedia within five seconds. He declared my name was missing and that I should proceed to hell! I wanted to make defenses. I started arguing; asking why anyone should judge me with a law I did not know about.
Though within me I knew that was a lame argument. As a brilliant lawyer of no mean reputation within my three-year practice, I know ignorance is no excuse under the law. The angels ignored me and called the next name. Within seconds, two of my torturers appeared and whisked me to their territory. I saw the huge flames that rendered the “Jesse tragedy” a child’s play. I screamed and screamed until I lost my voice. That was the beginning of my sorrow on destruction Avenue to where the Chief Torturer allocated me.
Christian! See what I’m going through just because you refused to speak to me about the truth, the way and the life. By now I should have been in heaven. I only saw a glimpse of that place during my trial. Oh!… what a beautiful place. I wished someone had told me and proved to me from the bible that such a place exists at all.
For a session, I mean two semesters, wait…nine months! Think about it, two hundred and seventy days. You closed your mouth and refused to tell me what heaven is like even though you knew. Now I know. In fact, I’ve seen the place before you. I only wish you will get my letter on time so that you can double up your efforts and get there. Not only getting there, but also receive good reward.
I overheard one of my torturers saying that people like you have no mansions there and that the street of heaven will be your abode. The street! If only I could be a street-dweller in heaven, how happy I would have been. The street there is paved with gold! Yes gold…
In order to add to our sorrows and bitterness, our tormentors allow us a glimpse of heaven once in the day. During those periods, the volume of weeping here will reach a crescendo. Many, especially those who were formerly on your side would throw themselves of the ground, scream and curse their luck.
I will not forget, yesterday when they allowed us another glimpse of heaven, a man screamed and jumped around, his weeping was louder than all of us here. I asked one of my tormentors why he was crying that much. The tormentor told me he was the former pastor of large congregation who fell into a sin of adultery two months before he died. He refused to confess the sin even to his wife until his death.
During the glimpse of heaven he saw the Chief-Usher in his church marching into a mansion and couldn’t believe his eyes. Ever since he arrived here twenty days ago, he has been praying for forgiveness. I have joined others here to counsel him to save his breath as no one seem to be listening to his confessions and prayers…
Christian you must make sure you get to heaven, no matter what, strive to ensure that do not become a street-dweller in heaven. As far as you are concerned there’s still room for adjustment; but we are LOST FOREVER!
I must tell you one incident I saw during one of our daily sight-seeing of heaven. We saw believers like you line up and the Prince of Peace was placing crowns on their heads. An angel stood beside him and called names.
As he called the names, the bearers stepped forward to collect their crowns. At irregular intervals, he called some names and no one came forward to collect the crowns. After waiting for a few seconds, the Prince of Peace would drop the crown into a huge basket marked “UNCLAIMED CROWNS”
From what they told us, the unclaimed crowns belong to some of our colleagues here who did not make it to heaven.
I pity them! They must have served the LORD diligently to have won crowns in the first place only to be shown the way to hell and their crowns declared unclaimed!
For those of us who never for once lived righteously, there’s no much regret because we really enjoy ourselves while on earth. We fornicated; we lied, stole, slandered, smoked, got ourselves drunk regularly and sowed wild oats.
However, those ones lived righteously; yet they are receiving the same rewards as we are. Double loss! Christian, though I hate you, but not as much as to watch you come to this terrible place of torment.
Yeeeh…!!! That was the thirty-seventh stroke. My back is completely festering. My skin is peeling off. By tomorrow morning, the wounds would have healed up so that the whole process can start again! Ah! These people are wicked. Anyway it’s not their fault but yours. Yes you Chris, you!
Immediately after our graduation from the University; we received the posting letters for our compulsory youth service. As if God was trying to remind you about the undone task of preaching salvation to me, we got posted to the same state; Kaduna state, for the youth service.
We met on daily basis for twenty one days at the orientation camp but you never said anything about salvation, Jesus or heaven. You only joked about my wayward life, condemning my drinking habits and warned me against AIDS. I wish I got AIDS and gone to heaven. At least that would have been better off.
At the camp, you saw the life I was living. I was always the first to get to the mammy-market and the last to leave. I was frequent at the ‘gyration’ of the Keggittes Club. Although I was not one of them but I enjoyed their company and drank myself out regularly. I remember you once saw me at the palm-wine drunkards joint dancing my heart out, you simply shook your head and walked away.
I saw you with the Christian Corpers Fellowship and expect that you would at least invite me to join you people, but you never did. I guess you thought I was too rotten to join Saints like you. How I wish you were reasonable enough to know that it was people like me who needed your gathering most. Christian, you contributed in no small measure to my final condemnation in hellfire here.
Twice, you called me during the N.Y.S.C orientation programme and said you wanted to talk to me. I responded to your invitation, but each time, you simply warned me generally about life, counseled me to be serious, and gave me wisdom tips on how to succeed in life. However, I heard nothing about Jesus, heaven or hell from you. In fact I’m beginning to doubt if you yourself genuinely believe the Jesus whose name you answer.
If I were you, I would convince my friends about what I believe. If I could not convince them, I would at least try. As a carefree campus guy who believed so much in girls, drinks and smoking, I did everything I could to convince you to join me. I stopped only when I realized you would not budge. I remember I even bought beer for you several times and encouraged you to taste and see its goodness. If I could do that, why did you not attempt to convince me about what you believe? Your neglect and refusal to tell me the truth has led me to Destruction Avenue, my present and permanent home address!
It seemed as if our destinies were joined together, because we were again posted to the same place for our primary assignment, the Secretariat of a Local Government Area in Kaduna State. I read Law, while you read Public Administration, so our services were required at the Local Government secretariat.
Consequently, for another ten months, we worked together and lived under the same roof at the Corper’s Lodge where the Local Government authorities accommodated us. I now find it hard to believe that for those ten months you did not find a reasonable opportunity to share the Gospel with me. You simply minded your own business while I continued living my sinful life.
My evils were so much that I put a young secondary school girl, Hauwa in the family way. You were so furious with me after the deed was discovered. Though you vehemently stood against abortion, I went ahead and forced the girl to remove the unwanted pregnancy. Oh God! Now I know my hands are stained with blood.
The first week I arrived here; I guess, it was the third day; my torturers took me to the valley of Terminated Destinies. I wept when I got there. I saw millions of babies whose destinies have been terminated by their wicked parents who dubbed them ‘unwanted’. They were weeping and wailing very pitifully. They carried placards of protest asking God for quick judgment and punishment upon those who forced the sun of their lives to set without rising. On their necks were hung bands where their purposes, visions and destinies in life were written.
Some of them were destined to be Presidents of Nations, Senators, Army-Generals, Doctors, Astronauts, Supreme Court Judges and Professors. The list of the enviable destinies of those babies was endless. I actually saw one of them who appeared to lead the others. He was more vocal and seemed to be most hurt. I asked my tormentors what was special about his case.
They told me he was destined to become the American President by the year 2024 but his mother had terminated his pregnancy on Tuesday, September 26, 1978. Since then, he had been waiting eagerly for his mother who is presently childless and living in Boston, USA to arrive for judgment. It was at that point I knew the fate of abortionists and those who aid them.
I was pushed into the valley of Terminated Destinies. In a matter of seconds, the babies pounced on me, pricking me with sharp needles while some of them cut me with blades all over my body. I screamed and screamed, but their weight over my body was enormous, I was helpless. At a point, some of them brought a drum of boiling palm oil and poured it all over my already festering body. I screamed the more! My flesh was literally frying. I thought the end had come; but I was wrong!
After all the punishments in the hands of the babies, the torturers picked me up and returned me to Destruction Avenue. By the time we got there, my wounds were already healed up! Ah! …Hell is a terrible place.
Christian and you knew I would end up like this, why did you not tell me abortionists have horrible punishments like that waiting for them. You only dwelt on the moral implications of my actions and the maltreatment of the poor secondary school girl. You also warned that the NYSC authorities could seize my discharge certificate.
Oh my God, for all I care now, they could have seized not only my discharge certificate but also my allowances and even my degree certificate. Of what use are all those to me now that am languishing in hellfire. I wish you told me I could repent and ask forgiveness, but you never told me I had opportunities to remake my life.
While we were peeping at heaven yesterday, a young man walked to the presence of the Prince of Peace to collect his crown. He was turned back to the street, that he had no crown. However, he still jubilated, as he was able to make it to heaven. At our own end here, one of the ladies with whom I was taken to the Valley of Terminated Destinies screamed aloud and said that was the young man who impregnated her and gave her money to remove the unwanted baby.
She protested and questioned the decision of the authorities as to why her co-sinner was allowed in heaven. The Chief Torturer immediately roared from the throne and told her to shut up! He said her fellow sinner; her boyfriend repented and turned his life over to the Saviour three months before he died, thus his presence in heaven. So, such opportunities exist, Christian and you never told me! I could have repented too.
Anyway, since it is too late for me to repent now, I better take solace in the fact that this letter will get to you and you can at least go on to warn others of the dangers involved in what they call pleasure but is sin. I know you will be able to save others like me who assume that life after death is a mirage.
You will also warn those who believe they can always find the opportunity to repent someday just like I did when I eventually had the opportunity of hearing the truth of the gospel. However, that was too close to my death.
If I knew how near my death was last month when a learned colleague tried preaching to me after a session at the Lagos High Court, I would have listened to her patiently. She walked up to me and congratulated me; having won a case for my client the respondent against hers, the plaintiff. That was the third time I won a case against her client in quick succession during the first half of the law year. So, when she began to talk about finding lasting and permanent success in Jesus, I simply looked at her as a frustrated lawyer who has taken solace in religion, turning the concept of Jesus into opium.
She spoke for almost ten minutes. I never knew I could have the patience to listen for that long. However, as far as I was concerned, she was rattling! Suddenly, I remembered I had to see a client at Sagamu within the next one hour and there I was at the premises of Lagos High Court Ikeja.
I stopped her and excused myself. That was the first and last opportunity I had to really have a close encounter with the gospel. What she said would have touched and probably changed me but for the fact that I had defeated her thrice in the court. I simply concluded she was looking for an opportunity to level up with me using religion as a spring board. I wished it was you who said all those things she told me that afternoon. I would have believed you.
I was only a few kilometers from Sagamu when the armed robbers attacked. I guess they simply needed my car for another operation, but I misunderstood their motive. I tried to save my car. They pursued me from the mechanic village immediately after the Sagamu Toll Gate up to Abamba hill, site of the proposed Remo Polytechnic where they overtook me, crossed my path and shot me at close range. Everything went blank thereafter.
Chris, you were supposed to lead me to the Saviour, but you left me to wander and finally end up here. Make sure you don’t come here! Don’t ever imagine it. In fact, my sorrow will be greatly multiplied if I should ever see you here. In my pain I know I can still rejoice. Yes I can, if one day I peep into heaven and I see you march majestically to receive your crowns and move into one of the mansions.
Then I shall rejoice that my letter actually got to you, changed your orientation and made you a candidate for heaven. Then my name shall enter the GUINESS BOOK OF WORLD RECORDS as the first man to win a soul right from the flames of Hell! For me it is TOO LATE! I am LOST FOREVER, but as far as you are concerned, the chances are as plenteous as the sand on the seashore.
Please do me a favour Christian, send this letter to as many believers as possible. Publish it if you can, make it available to unbelievers. Who knows, they may have a change of heart. Bye for now…my greetings to all you care for.
Your suffering Friend,