The Day I Shot Jesus: Chapter 8

"Thanks. Please remind me to call him later in the day," I said while grabbing the keys to my room on 85th floor. We had barely taken 3 steps away from the check-in desk when I saw (by the elevators lobby entrance) the profile view of a photographer I have had the privilege of training over 120 years earlier. Basirat was a Muslim that had eventually given her life to Jesus after the aftermath of the Rapture that saw many Christians and children disappear from the face of the earth. {I smiled and hoped that all these people I was meeting and greeting will not make me late for my dinner with John & co.}

I slowed my walking pace while checking the time on my Sioca wristwatch. Time was 11:41pm and I was supposed to be back at the hotel’s dinner hall in about 34 minutes.

"Hope yawa no dey? Abi why my oga dey slow down? Shay ko si nkan nkan" Favour asked in her customized mixed-language accent. If only she knew what was going on in my head.

"I just saw someone I know. Interestingly she attended eloPhotos Academy about 4 years after you graduated," I replied.

I had met Basirat Akorede in 2016 at a networking Conference organized by Abunibi Media. She had asked the most questions in one of the sessions and had proved to be a lady with Beauty & Brains. I remember the moment she asked one of the facilitators a question that seemed to create a 1-minute silence as if a tribute was being paid to a martyred loved one.

I remember the question vividly because I had developed the habit of recording conferences I attended (beginning 2016) on my iPhone 7. Looking at her from a distance glancing through a book titled THE BEAUTY OF UGLINESS, I could remember vividly the question she had raised: What advice do you have for a Muslim photographer like myself who seems to be in a puzzle regarding her future as a Muslim artist. The photography facilitator had been short of words to respond to the question mostly because they practiced different religions. I had met her during the lunch break and our conversation had resulted in her enrolling in our 9 months photography diploma program.

She had missed the Rapture and was one of the victims of the catastrophic accidents that had ensued. Her 2 legs had to be amputated as a result of the ghastly accident she was involved in. The driver of the bus that hit her car at 144 mph had suddenly disappeared thereby sending the bus headon for Basirat’s taxi. She eventually gave her life to Christ 2 years into the Tribulation years. How she manage to survive amidst the turmoil, torments & trials of the Great Tribulation – without 2 legs – is indeed a testimony.

Her testimony was sealed when she became one of the first set of people to enjoy the creative miracles Jesus performed when he returned to earth: in the span of about 33 seconds, an audience of thousands had witnessed 2 new legs sprout to existence when Jesus touched her hips. That encounter with Jesus seemed to have sealed her commitment to service for the Kingdom. Besides, not everyday do you see such creative miracles happen to someone who was once an ardent follower of Islam.

We had met countless times since the beginning of the Kingdom of Peace & Prosperity and here she was again in the same hotel I was lodging in. I wondered what she was doing at the New Gate Hotel.

"Oya gist me now now who this person is," Favour interrupted my thoughts.

"Seun, time is far spent and we need to hurry up," Folu interjected. I like the way he always seem to keep me on check whenever I seemed to be drifting off in thoughts or talk. By then, I was 9 feet away from the 143-year-old "beauty & brains." I turned to use one of the 12 elevators at the other extreme where she stood. We can always chat later, I thought. Judging by the way she was standing, she seemed to be waiting for someone to highlight from one of the soon-to-arrive elevators. Perhaps it was her husband. Perhaps, one of her 16 children. I didn’t want to find out yet.

"I’ll gist you later," I said to Favour while holding her shoulder.

Within a few seconds of waiting, an elevator arrived at about the exact time Basirat’s date met her. Apparently she had been waiting for her husband, a handsome fair-complexioned Indian that had endured the horrors of the Great Tribulations with Basirat. He eventually became a follower of Christ the day before World War 3 broke out. If I were still human, I’m sure I would have envied the way they hugged and cuddled each other as if they had been apart for ages.

Entering my elevator, I was greeted by one of the two angels that manned the 5 square metres room.

"Good evening Seun, we’re so excited you’re finally here," he greeted me as if we had met before. Though that would be the first time I would meet him, he seemed to have known me while I was still in my human form before the Rapture. I would later find out that he had been the angel God sent to prevent a surmalsulting danfo bus from hitting my bus in September 2002. I remember coming down from my bus to see if we could save anyone from the accident but by the time we got there, 8 of the 14 passengers had died on the spot (including a 7month old baby).

It wasn’t until that elevator moment did I know that God had sent an angel to prevent the bus from running into ours. Talk of the many dangers I had been delivered from without being conscious God’s hand was in it.

"I’m Jaiz and my colleague here is Zchabi and we will be escorting you to your room," he said.

"Its really a honour meeting you," I replied and shook their hands. As if the elevator was waiting for my response, its doors close and the 25-second journey to the 85th floor began.

To be continued…

What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.