Coronary Artery Diseases -By Hassan Idris

Just like some famous writers would say that‘‘ in death, there are no accidents. No coincidences. No mishaps. And no escapes. What you have to realize is that we’re all just a mouse that a cat has by the tail. Every single move we make, from the mundane to the monumental, the red light that we stop at or run, the people we have sex with, or won’t with us, the airplanes that we ride, or walk out of; it’s all part of death’s sadistic design leading to the grave.”

I’ve since seen in my worst nightmares my departure. I’ve sin enough that I fear that my soul would rot in hell and God would surely reject my devilish soul. I’ve dreamt that the earth would reject my soul whenever I’m buried, it would  push my dead body out-cursing it here and there. I’ve raped people’s daughters, kidnapped people, ganged- robbed people with my goons and even when I’m being told to stop it, I ended up  insulting those telling me that or even going ahead to kill them. In fact, I’ve hated God so well that I don’t pray or even believe in him. Where will my soul go after death is never my concern. I believe in my silly mind that I’m just existing in a world of my own, clubbing, partying here and there and getting drunk till I get tipsy. Sadly, I’ve slept with more than thirty prostitutes and I’m never stopping soon.

My social media pages are full of pornographic pictures, videos, and I’ve engaged in homosexualism for years that I even looked like Bob Risky. Bleaching my skin is another thing that I’ve done and I’ve admired. I’m just weird in my own ways; cutting women breasts for money ritual is what I’ve done all the time to keep getting richer.

Now that the angel of death is on his way coming and I’ve been inflicted with serious illness that I’m  praying for passive euthanasia to end my life because of the unending pains, I want to repent. I can’t walk, talk or even do anything. I only shit on my trousers and being fed through my stomach instead of my mouth. These didn’t stopped there, I’ve Coronary Artery diseases and cancer. My time for departure has arrived and I’m beginning to shiver and remembering there’s God, life and death. I’ve been thinking of asking everyone to forgive me. Death has taught me a lesson and I want God to give me another chance but I think it’s too late. I’m struggling, but my sins have overshadowed my good if I even have any.

Everyone is rejecting me, no one wants to visit me in the hospital not to talk of praying for my dead body or burying me on the shores of the earth when I die. I’ve some few requests to make to everyone and my friends on this blue app. Please, when my soul is forced out of my body by the angel of death, please go through all my social media pages and delete all the pornographic pictures and videos on my social media pages. Use the little money on my account for charity and pray for my soul. Let my story and death be a lesson to all and sundry that we’re mere mortals under the yoke of death.

It’s true that ‘‘man no more knows his own time than fish taken in the fatal net or birds trapped in the snare. like these, the children of men caught when the time falls suddenly upon them. And so, before we can heal… before we can escape the presence of death and time we must mourn and celebrate others death with this memorial we say that the hour of death cannot be forecast. But when we say this, we imagine that the hour is placed in an obscure and distant future. It never occurs to us that it has any connection with the day already begun. Or that death could arrive this same evening. This evening, which is so certain and which has every hour filled in advance’’

Hassan Idris

idrishassan035@gmail.com.

Kaduna, Nigeria.