Conversations: My Covenant With God On Shisha. Episode 8

Me: Maybe someday I will write about my experience with shisha and while I will never smoke till I exit this beautiful world. Till then, I will keep laughing at myself for even attempting to.

Chiziterem Ihekuna

: I am invested in this story, I want to read it

Me: I might just write about it in no distant future.

SoffyChic

: I haven't attempted to try it out, and I don't think I ever will. Imagine looking like a chimney

Me: Please don’t. My experience is one I’m saving for a writeup.

sekemi

: Maybe that one day is now!

Me: Okay, from the court of public opinion, I shall start the writing of my experience with shisha.

sekemi

: Good!🔥

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Religion played a big part in my existence and I’ve always been sanctimonious to show for it because I live a life worth emulating, so I believed. The denominational outfit I belong to then welcomes being a misfit. A crucial part of my formative years was what it was which helped shape my view of life, even if I want to believe have outgrown it.

THE DENOMINATION

I will do my best to give you a picture of it with my description. Every Sunday, you are welcomed with “search the scripture.” other denominations call it ‘Sunday school’ but the GO is a professor and it bequeaths on his intelligence “uniqueness” to stand out. Expository is a word you won’t escape when an announcement is made about the Monday bible study. The Monday bible study is an expository study of the word of God and I will have you believe that it is like that in every English-speaking branch anywhere in Nigeria. To cap it all, every topic is bound to have three points to it and it was always a delight to listen to the GO every first Sunday of the month. Going to Gbagada for combined service I was always anticipatory of because the grey-haired GO I dearly admired. I’m sure by now you know the denomination.

Do you know the denomination? Leave a comment by clicking on the button below.

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You are surprised, right? How can a titled piece about shisha have landed you here? And it’s beginning to seem as though I’m taking you on a journey of which you have no idea. You know what? You, my lovely reader, sit back and relax for as your captain, I’m capable of sailing this ship without hitting an iceberg.

THE SHISHA STORY

It was the first semester of 300 level, my friend who was also a roommate had come home to tell me there was a party. The party was to be held at a bar not so far from where we lived. The day went by slowly because we were so anticipatory of the party and guess what? the day’s brightness disappeared and the journey to the party we embarked on.

At the party, me and my friend were among the set of first people to arrive. The dimly lit bar was a sign for me to make a U-turn but my coconut head was 10x stronger that day. We sat in a corner as we saw people walking in 2s, 3s, 4s and more. The songs from all the speakers were blaring loud and the night’s grooving had begun. On the dance floor, grooving with a beer bottle in my hand, Lil Keshi’s shoki came on and the liveliness within every soul in that bar came to the bare. Successive hits by the raves of the moment were played and the party couldn’t be described as anything short of fun.

In my engrossed state of merriment with a few bottles down, I saw my roommate who doesn’t smoke experimenting with shisha and it was only him seated with it. I paused from dancing to get a better glimpse of what I was seeing so it wouldn’t be a case of a distorted sense of judgement. As I watched him puff into the air like a chimney, I got fascinated by it and I made my way to where he sat.

THE SHISHA ENCOUNTER

The hookah pipe of the shisha was just one, taking turns, we dragged the useless smoke into our body as we gleefully enjoyed the experience. if satan wants to deal with you, he makes you lost in a hurting fun. While the fun was ongoing, I asked him if we could get high on it, and he told me no—a silly-not-so-assuring assurance. True to his word though, I wasn’t high but, I prayed I was rather high than not.

Getting home, we couldn’t do anything and all did was crash. Just a few hours into sleeping, I woke up sweating profusely and my heart palpitating. In my dilemma of total uneasiness, I dashed swiftly to the bathroom to pour myself water to ease my predicament. Dearest gentle reader, my supposed antidote was like igniting the intensity of a burning house with fuel. In all of these, I made sure not to wake my roommate as I wouldn’t want to be an object of ridiculous jesting in the morning. I inwardly prayed to Jehovah to save my life and promised him I would have nothing to do with anything that involved smoking again. Running out of breath, I improvised my CPR on the spot—I started pressing hard on my heart while being scared of death. Thankfully or not, I wouldn’t know if the pressure I was applying on my heart helped or if it was God who meted kindness to a rebellious soul.

In this chaos, I was checking the time and knew I had been awake for 3 hours battling for my life the best way I could. I didn’t do anything medically to have been a saving grace, and neither was the prayer of an imperfect soul like me enough that night to reach God’s ears. But, all I can is that this letter is a testament to a living soul that narrowly escaped death.

MY TAKE

If as humans we want to live in denial of being influenced by those we relate with, a shameless clown in the Townsquare is what we can best be likened to. Granted, we have principles we abide by but, an external influence of detriment is better kept at arm’s length or cut off. Self-confidence is best kept for certain areas of our lives not one that can be conflicting to our personal moral lens. For the few years of my existence on this side of the world, the sum total of our lives I believe is based on influence—religion and culture being at the top of the chart. At all times, we do well putting ourselves into consideration first before we take action.