From boyhood to manhood: Killer of steadiness

THE pang of hunger seemed to grow as he wandered aimlessly in the bush. As he dragged his six-and-a-half foot frame with nothing but a dry and scaly skin that stretched over it, his feet bent succumbing to its lightweight. With the intensity of the hunger that chewed him up, he shivered violently like a soaked puppy. The merciless African sun that slowly paved its way to the west was blazing hot like an inspired fire in the woodlands. He wondered if he would get any asylum in that strange thicket.

He feebly moved with his feet in unison with his sorrowful, tear stained face. The melodious singing of the birds, the occasionally cool breeze, the scent of the blooming flowers and eye-catching scenery did not mean anything to him. Nothing attracted his attention, but he was buried in self-pity.
His self-talk was, “I’m a worthless being,” “But I’m poor,” “What if I don’t get a job?” and “If only I was richer.” “I’m less of a man.” He tried to walk but the last spark of energy left his exhausted body. His thoughts were interrupted by a bunch of fruits he saw a stone’s throw away.

As if injected with a new pint of energy, he darted to the tree. He was fortified with a little hope of success. He courageously looked into his troubled life, amidst its storms and hurricanes. He thought the current storm had subsided; yet his subconscious mind was brewing another terrible cyclone. He jumped as high as his feet could take him.

He tried in desperation, as his red, sad and weary eyes gently caressed the tropical fruits.It had been several days since he last had a meal. His mouth was flaking like an exfoliating slate with little bits of blood dripping gently on his sweat stained shirt. His mouth watered as his stomach chorused along.

The young man had left home in search for work at a nearby farm. The food he had been carrying from home was finished. Now, he faced the challenge of getting the tropical fruit. He told himself that it was not worth the effort, because he was better dead than alive.

“I’m a worthless being, after all, they say I’m not a real man”, he continually told himself. “I’ve been searching for a job but nothing has come my way. I’m better dead than alive.” These thoughts lingered at the back of his mind continually, as he threw a last gaze on the bunch of ripe fruits. This time he refused to give it a try but just stopped and told himself, “after all, the fruits are sour!”

His eyes began to feel heavy. He slept in hunger and a snake struck him dead in his sleep. This was the end of him. Local villagers picked his body. The inscription on the grave of the young man read:

COULD HAVE LIVED BUT DIED HUNGRY UNDER A FRUIT TREE.
How many men have died under a fruit tree? Where is the real problem that kills the steadiness of the sun. Why do some men fail to have the consistency that is needed. I have one solution to this problem. It is a biblical one: “As a man thinks in his heart, so is he” (Proverbs 23:7). I wrote a poem to explain this concept.

Light in a Dark Tunnel
I found myself in a dark tunnel,
Amidst the sewage waters.
The more I looked at its walls,
The darker it seemed.
The more I talked about its waters,
The more nauseous they became.
From whence could my help come from?
Who could rescue me from the problem?
The level of the dirty waters seemed to rise.
Each time I thought of them,
They seemed to overtake me.
I struggled in desperation,
I clung to the roof but got tired.
Then came what seemed like a voice of rescue:
“Swim through the dirty water.
“You will find your way out.”
Was it a voice of rescue?
Had God sent His Angel?
But I needed salvation.
I plunged headlong into the waters,
Dirty and nauseous as they looked.
I did not wait for God’s mindful counsel
But my own wishful counsel.
I swallowed great amounts of water
Gasping for breath in failure
As I manoeuvred in the tunnel
Had God sent His angel?
In a voice barely audible,
And with motions marred by sadness
Choking back at my grief,
I sank and thought of dying.
My thoughts left my body lying,
As they wandered in confusion.
I would be better dead
Than face this bitter threat.
As I led the path to perdition,
Never thinking of salvation,
I did not hear a voice that called
Nor a command that scorned me.
It was Your gentle touch,
That brought light into the tunnel.
Sewage waters were only in my thinking.
The horrible thought of dying
Turned to a thought of flying.
As I led my way out of the tunnel
You were the Light in that tunnel
I’m now not a tadpole swimming in dirty waters,
But a king of life surfing on crystal waters
You were Light in that tunnel.
The darkness was in my mind and
Dirty waters in my thinking.

There are people who visualise their lives amidst dirty waters. They view themselves as tadpoles, which grow into frogs that are good for nothing. The truth is that your perception leads to your conception. “You have what you see.” You conceive what you perceive! Allow light to shine in your darkened tunnel, let it come into your mind and you will discover that you are not a tadpole. If the mind is properly fed, we will discover the truth of the saying, “every person is a goldmine of hidden potential!” to be true in our lives.

l Sikhumbuzo Dube is a pastor, chaplain, counsellor and founder of Shunem Care, a ministry to the involuntarily childless. He has published several articles on spiritual care, mental health, chaplaincy and involuntary childlessness.