The Cry Of A Dying Cancer Patient And Her Tribute To October 1st

By Uzoma Ahamefule

October was the month calamity befell my grandfathers, she began. Precisely 1st October 1960 was deceptively the day my grandfathers thought that chains of slavery around their wastes were removed.

They celebrated what they had thought that was freedom from colonists who had invaded the land of their ancestors and conquered them – freedom from being cruelly packed like animals into ships to Europe and America for exploitation, freedom from segregation, injustice, oppression, suppression and being seen and treated as nobodies.

But alas, my grandfathers misjudged as they did not know that the chains removed from their necks and the locks were only handed over to a group in their midst for a modified second slavery. These chains are now back on my neck and legs, oh Lord. The huge danger this time is that they seem invisible to ordinary eyes.

Even many of my own sisters and brothers who saw and understood the enormous threat of these chains have either been bought or are silent in connivance to my ordeal due to their political affiliations or what they stand to gain, and my pains are excruciating. Oh precious Lord, as a human, Hope is hopeless. Please precious Lord, hear my prayers.

I bleed even from my eyes in the hospital bed and nobody seems to see that. I am choking and “cannot breathe” well, but the doctors and nurses seem helpless due to lack of oxygen, necessary equipment and drugs.

One thing I hold strongly, oh Lord, and that has kept me breathing till now is that You are there, and I am Your project. You do not abandon Your projects because You did not fail Isaac neither did You fail Hanna.

As all conquering and all powerful You understand all agonies. Prayers alone are not enough for my freedom, oh Lord. So, while I faithfully work very hard for my liberation without minding the difficulties, show mercy as I have built all my trust of redemption in You.

Strengthen me, oh precious Lord, because as a human, Hope is hopeless. Please precious Lord, hear my prayers.

In the book of Job 3:1-6, Job said, “After this, Job opened his mouth and cursed the day of his birth.  He said: “May the day of my birth perish, and the night that said, ‘A boy is conceived!’  That day—may it turn to darkness; may God above not care about it; may no light shine on it. 

May gloom and utter darkness claim it once more; may a cloud settle over it; may blackness overwhelm it. That night—may thick darkness seize it; may it not be included among the days of the year nor be entered in any of the months.”

Even with my pains and sorrows, oh Lord, I will speak no evil against You. But I would rather do like Job did and lay a curse on October 1st and say may this day perish. Strengthen me, oh precious Lord, because as a human, Hope is hopeless. Please precious Lord, hear my prayers.

As a woman in a dungeon, I am in darkness and in captivity. The forces in support of injustice against me and my freedom are enormously powerful.

Over 98% of those who are supposed to come for my rescue have all joined the oppressors. The presidents never presided well. The ministers are not ministering well.

The members of the House of Representatives are not representing well. The distinguished senators are not distinguished and honorable enough to stand on what is just. In fact, while many of them were alleged to have secretly rigged and manipulated the election process to become senators, some of them were said to have openly held electoral officers’ hostage to declare them winners of elections they did not win.

And because judges in this part of the world are looked at as being too corrupt, and since the highest court in the country – the Supreme Court – can incredibly manufacture votes more than the officially registered voters to make someone a governor, the senators accused of holding electoral officers to hostage may get away with their criminalities.

But like a woman of blood and Job, and for the sake of posterity for unborn generations, I am determined to pay the price for my freedom, and strongly believe that I will overcome. But strengthen me, oh precious Lord, because as a human, Hope is hopeless. Please precious Lord, hear my prayers.

Oh Lord, “Why is life given to a man whose way is hidden, whom God has hedged in?” Job 3:23. I curse the month of October.

As some vultures gather in the name of 2023 presidency – which only selfish interests were their driving force – may they scatter because they are blindly too greedy to understand that the structures they are standing on are structurally structured for them to fail.

Therefore, oh Lord, I am not clamoring for my tribe to produce the next president, for many who are doing that without an iota of consideration to the dirt and fundamental fraud structure in place are ignorant of the fact that such can never be possible without undesirable conditions from their oppressors – conditions that would make such a president a toothless bulldog and at the mercy of the lawmakers from impeachment threat.

I am not asking for peace, oh Lord. All I request and pray for are love, justice and equality. And if You take away these bigotry, ethnic mindedness and nepotism, oh Lord, and grant me equity and fairness, I will not care where the president is coming from – for transparent, fair and just processes usher in qualified, capable, impartial and acceptable leaders.

As You rescued the people of Israelites from the hands of Pharaoh so I trust my freedom in Your hands so that this Egypt I’m seeing today I shall see no more. But strengthen me, oh precious Lord, in this Armageddon for courage does not mean absence of fear. As a human I am getting weak, and Hope is hopeless. Please precious Lord, hear my prayers.

I am in captivity in a dungeon with chains on my hands and legs, oh Lord. When it rains all day it rains on me, and I stand here to witness sunrise and sunset as my hands and legs feeble and tremble. I now even speak the languages of my companions, mosquitos and insects.

I have no sleep nor rest, and my captors are in accord with those that I am supposed to have been singing redemption songs with – for the calamity that befell my ancestors which I dreaded is about to befall me.

Although my spirit is still very strong and very high, and my total trust in You to deliver me from all evil, oh Lord, is not in doubt. But as a human, Hope is indeed hopeless. Please precious Lord, hear my prayers.

If I should die in this dungeon, I will take it as my destiny. But please, oh precious Lord, while I count on your promises to grant my people freedom, do accept my soul for eternal rest, for in dust I come and in dust I must return.

In pains and agony I bitterly lay a curse to the month of tragedy called October. I say “woe unto you”, October 1st. It is finished.

Uzoma Ahamefule, a concerned patriotic citizen, writes from Vienna, Austria.

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