There was once a man who mistook attention for affection and applause for destiny. A man who believed that generosity without wisdom was a sign of greatness. He often scattered all his money the way the harmattan scatters dry leaves rashly, proudly, and wastefully. People from all over followed him like bees chasing an open pot of honey, and with his wide smile and open hands, Women with all kinds of shapes, complexions, sizes, and from different tribes praised him.
Friends surrounded him as the man of the people because with him, it is never a dull moment. Strangers also admired him for his friendly nature. He was the king of every room, the ladies' man, the hero of every party, and the man whose pockets spoke louder than his conscience. But he forgot that a king who lives without discipline will eventually dethrone himself. When his river of generosity dried up due to some bad decisions, the world that had enjoyed with him soon developed selective amnesia.
The women who once called him my “darling” when the going was good now became historians and experts in reminding him of all the hearts he broke and how he disregarded them and their kids, ignoring who he was and the commitment he already had when they met him in the first place. The friends who once ate from his plate vanished faster than smoke in a windy market. The strangers who saluted him could no longer even recognise him in the crowd due to the way life had happened to him.
For the first time in his lifetime, he realised that he had built a kingdom where loyalty only depended on the weight of his wallet and his impact. Life struck him really hard. He didn’t just go broke, he went bankrupt. His wife, exhausted from so many years of betrayal till old age then passed away amidst all the Chaos. His body which was once his instrument of pleasure, became the very battlefield where sickness and grief declared war. Pain became a professor, gradually and mercilessly teaching him what wisdom and self-control should have.
Blindness soon visited him; first of the heart with grief, then of the eyes. And in that darkness, while lying on a bed soaked with regret, he discovered something very frightening: When a man falls, the world watches him, and when a man learns, heaven listens. But as soon as a man repents, God moves. Most of his friends and family deserted him and blamed him for the cause of all his predicaments, but God in his infinite mercy didn’t. God reached for him when humiliation pushed him to the ground. Grace picked him up when old choices tried to bury him.
And from his own lineage and the same bloodline he took for granted, God raised one unwavering soul who refused to let him die in shame. One helper, One voice, One gift disguised as family. That was the beginning of his resurrection. Now, years later, the man who once chased women now chases wisdom. The man who once wasted money now invests in purpose. The man who once lived without caution now writes with conviction. Although, his crown was not returned to him as gold, the Lord God Almighty reshaped it as a pen.
The chronic Womanizer who chased everything and anything in skirts with reckless abandon until he was broke as a pauper and had a near-death experience, has now been given another chance at life to do better. And now, his pen, scarred and humbled, has been resurrected to share stories so that young people will learn from his mistakes and not repeat his errors. This is the tale of a king who squandered his crown but found a kingdom inside redemption.
✍🏽 William Z. Bozimo
Veteran Journalist | Columnist | National Memory Keeper
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