cancer drama

how walking with lions helped me walk through cancer

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It was the summer of 2021. And we were at the Cap Vert Peninsula. Seated inside a restaurant at les Pointe Des Almadies.

I hoisted myself onto the low wall separating the restaurant from the Atlantic Ocean and sat on it. Knees pulled up and arms folded across, I stared mesmerised at the beauty as the evening sun messed with the waters. Streaking its rays across the surface which purred idly like one being caressed by a lover.

We sipped Bouye and Bissap while we waited for our A la carte seafood. The Senegalese somehow found a way to combine both drinks [baobab & Hibiscus] into an exotic blend. In Northern Nigeria where I grew up, we drink them separately.

Dinner over. And a little bit of sightseeing, my friend dropped me off at the hotel.

Later that night, my phone rang.

“Did you see what I sent on WhatsApp?”

“No. Let me check”

“I saw this and I know it is your type of thing. Maybe you can talk to them?” her message read

The only thing I could make out of the flier was that it was a Safari plus the amount in USD. Then it was at 6am the following morning.

I was still staring at it piecing my basic French together when she called back.

“But babe I do not understand French. Moreso, this tour is by 6am the next morning, they must have closed out”

“Send them an email. Forward it to me for translation and if you really want to do this, then let’s do it”

It was a back and forth. The tour had closed off. Accommodation booked with the resort for the weekend. Tourists paired in rooms. If I wanted to come along, there was an extra late charge in addition to paying extra for a solo room. I jumped on it. Afterall, I had no plan.

And that was how I had one of the most adventurous weekends ever. Click here for link

In that single weekend was packed a safari.  In addition to crossing the Atlantic to a tourist village in the interior where the oldest Senegalese woman lived. Overnight stay at an exotic resort nestled by the Atlantic Ocean – this included kayaking, fishing and sumptuous 3-course meals. When I got back to my hotel room on Sunday night, my memory trove was richer.

Little would I know the part that weekend would play in my life in the following years.

Nevertheless, as I faced off with the battles this phase of life presented, that memory served as an anchor. On days when I could barely put one leg in front of the other; when I came close to ending it all, my mind would call up the triumphant feelings of walking through the jungle with the lions, that feeling of squatting beside them and touching them. It felt like God saying

“child, you already walked with the lions and they did not consume you, so what is this one?

on the road to shangisha 2

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  click here for part 1

“I always have Altars commemorating my encounters with God”

“Altars kwa?”  I responded

“Yes.  Altars like Bible times”

I knew about Altars.  I mean, both of us are Old-time religion, faith-based bible followers.  We shared similar foundational upbringing and the bible was one common area for us. 

However, when I thought physical Altars, the image which drew up was the type in my friend Esso’s Catholic home.

Howbeit now, my Pentecostal friend was talking Altars

“Tell me about it” I returned quietly across the line.

“I learnt to set up Altars.  For each major encounter I have with God I set up an altar at the location where it happened” 

And I listened to my friend go on about memorials as statutes of remembrances of God’s faithfulness. So much so that by the time I drove off, that billboard location became an altar for me.  I would eventually set up others.

Years later, after I had moved away from Magodo, that location remained an Altar. A place which held the presence of God for me strongly.  It also served as a place of Refuge for me. 

For each time I drove through that environs, I would cast a glance to that landmark and say a prayer. 

I recall during the Pandemic when I was super-stressed and floundering.  This particular day, driving to the Fruits market at Ketu; I stopped by the First bank after Caleb College to use the ATM. 

Overwhelmed, I parked and walked down to the billboard.  I stood there for quite some time seeking solace.  I felt the security which you would find when you run into a Safe House.  Then, feeling grounded, I left. 

Now, as I stand 110 metres above sea level drinking in the views, I feel so relaxed and peaceful.

I recall the first time I was up here – the week before the surgery.  Crushed and groping my way to understand what this new drama was all about, I had stood at this same spot closer to the heavens monologuing to God.

“Cancer?” 

“Surely Lord, you know I trust you enough to make this this disappear and we would not have to go through this process?”

I reasoned.  Pleaded.  Argued my case as I stood up there.  By the time we left there, I had built an altar on the clouds of the Spinnaker Tower.

God did not make the Cancer disappear. 

Yet, standing at this altar again today, I know that victory comes in shades. 

 

 

Why Emotional Intelligence can sabotage you

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“You seem to be very high on managing your emotions” “yes, I have a very high emotional quotient” “and I see it is helping you a lot on this journey” “somehow” I whispered across the lines “care to explain?” he prodded “Well, I choose to see the pluses in my situation because there are a … Read more