Divinity's Epistle

Sophie sat on the metal bench just outside the ICT office. Her fingers trembled slightly as she typed in the 9-digit code on her student ID card for the fifth time. The screen blinked. Access denied. She exhaled hard, gripping the card as if squeezing it could force the system to respond differently. She knew the number by heart. She had carried that identity for five long years—lectures, exams, clinicals, even student dues. So why wasn’t it working? She stood up and approached Deji, the ICT personnel seated in the corner. He looked up, unconcerned, and asked for her details again. He barely glanced at the ID card before shaking his head. “This number is outdated.” Sophie’s face twisted in disbelief. “Outdated? What do you mean? I’m a 500-level medical student. I’m not just enrolled—I’m active. How can my ID be outdated?” Her voice rose with each word. A mix of confusion and insult. She paced the room, anger in her steps. What kind of system erases a student who’s still breathing withi...

Chidi, my childhood friend and best friend, held my hand gently as we walked toward his room. It was my 25th birthday, and if there’s one thing Chidi had mastered over the years, it was giving me the most timely, uncanny, and precise gifts. Many times, I hadn’t even known what I needed—until he gave it. This year, I was curious, expectant. What could top all the previous gifts? Chidi: "Just a little bit more..." Me: "I can't wait abeg. Where's the long-awaited gift?" Chidi: "Yeahhhh... Here we go... Have it." I took the small box from his hands, opening it with anticipation. Inside was… a pair of medicated eyeglasses. Thick-lensed. Heavy. Possibly around -6.25OD. Me: "I... I don't understand. Why are you gifting me this? Was this the surprise? How?" Chidi: "Yes, Sandra. This is the gift I was setting up for you. The best gift for a MYOPE." Me: "Me? Myope? But I never said I had problems with my eyes..." I looked ba...

The doctor’s voice cracked like glass in the silence. “I’m sorry… we lost her.” The air shifted in the room. Her mother’s scream split through it—raw, primal. Her father stood frozen, eyes glassy, the weight of years collapsing on his shoulders. The world dimmed. Treasure couldn't die. She just couldn't die. Not now! Not after living so painful a life! Wasted 24 years! Goddddd! _______________________________________________ Treasure walked a lonely, unfamiliar path. There was no pain in her bones anymore, no needles in her veins. But her heart... oh, her heart carried a heaviness words couldn’t hold. She whispered into the wind, “So… this is it? My life—over, and I’ve told no one of You? Your victories left untold. Your melodies left unsung. All our encounters ended with no ears hearing them. Was this all I was capable of?” Tears spilled freely. “I thought I would do more,” she said. “I thought I would be more.” She remembered the prophecy her dad had told her abou...