To set the scene, My friends dad had a chicken coup at the back of their house where they reared chickens whose destiny was not to wake everybody up at 5 am with renditions of "I believe I can fly" to the tune of cock crow at dawn, but rather it was to add meaty substance to various soups and meals prepared for the household.
The problem was that occasionally the chicken nets would be found ripped open and at least one chicken would have vanished.
Since detailed interrogations of the chickens in different languages yielded no information on the kidnappers or chicknappers in this case, my friends dad decided to install some proper chicken wire to ensure that the thief would not be able to gain further access to the chickens.
Anyway, one night, my friend and other occupants of the house were woken up by the sound of loud tapping from the locality of the chicken coop and going outside to investigate they discovered on getting to the coop that there were several dents in the chicken wire. Assuming that the thief was a person, they began to look around for the person as the front gate was still locked but then the live in help or houseboy as they were called in those days arrived, inspected the chicken wire and announced that the dents were caused by a snake.
Having so said, he dashed to his room and reemerged with a huge cutlass and a beautific smile on his face. He went on to announce that he would make a wonderful meal from the hapless snake that had dared come after the chickens.
On hearing it was a snake, my friend looked around and got a heavy piece of wood to smite the offending philistine of a serpent once found while one of the girls who lived in the adjoining flat but came out when she heard the commotion grabbed one leg of a pair of flip flops or slippers as we called them in those days as a weapon of offence while the security guard also armed himself with his billy club.
Now appropriately armed, the four of them approached the hen coop again looking for the snake but after a quick search realised it was nowhere to be seen.
The snakeologiist.....I mean houseboy then started looking around and spotting a huge pile of wood that had been stacked near the hen coop for firewood, announced that the Snake must have slithered under the pile on hearing the approach of the four chicken Avengers.
He wisely instructed that rather than delving into the wood, the safest way to bring out the offending serpentine allocator of other people's consumption resources for Judgement would be to sprinkle some Kerosene (Paraffin) on the wood.
Following this earthshaking insight, he swiftly got a bottle of paraffin and proceeded to sprinkle it on the wood. After soaking the top logs everybody stood back and waited expectantly.
Several seconds passed with no result and then finally the snake's head appeared and the rest of it began to emerge.
I want you to note my choice of words. I said began....
I can only relate to you what I was told and although I heartily wish I had been there to witness the ensuing scene, it was sadly not to be.
As this behemoth with its black scales glittering appeared, the assembled avengers realised that this was the serpentine equivalent of Goliath emerging from under the firewood. At the same time three things happened. The first was that my friend realised how the Children of Israel felt on seeing Goliath for the first time.
Secondly, he realised that their combined weapons including the aforementioned flip flop being wielded by the modern day Deborah beside them were unlikely to be a match for the monster of a serpent that was unconcernedly emerging foot after foot from under the firewood. The third and most important thing that happened for me as the narrator, I pause here to say a gentle hee hee hee, was that as her ocular receptors received the information on the snake, the girl with the flip flop in hand screamed, flung away her offensive flip flop, flung herself across the yard faster than Usain Bolt, flung herself into her room, flung the door shut and began shouting in other tongues from behind the closed door. A few too many flungs here in this paragraph I must admit.
As the snake continued emerging, my friend found himself unconsciously stepping back and realised that everyone else on the battlefield was retreating too. He looked sideways at the Snakeologist who with his long sharp blade and knowledge had hitherto seemed invincible and whispered, get it.
Now, although this was over 25 years ago, the response of the houseboy has stayed indelibly in my mind.
He turned to my friend and said, "Oga, this one very danger".
The rest of the Snake finally emerged and as everyone kept backing away, supported remotely by the girl still flinging out tongues from her room, it slithered unconcerned past everyone, went out through the front gates and into the bushes leaving everyone including the aforementioned Snakeologist to quietly return to their rooms.
The moral of the story
Don't follow the person who talks the most. Follow someone who through faith and patience has inherited the promises. That's why we boldly follow our Man of God, Rev Dr Chris Oyakhilome DSC DD and the mighty Men and women he has raised. He has always led us with the example of Jesus in a triumphant procession.
Don't go into battle with the wrong information or wrong tools. The weapons of our warfare are not flip flops, flap fits, of fit flaps, but the word of God.
During this month of meditation, recieve the word like never before and internalise it. You would realise that we are equipped with the right tools to win every battle. We don't use the wrong tools, we are trained by our Man of God and victory is sure.
God bless you
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