Yellow Bottles

 He sat in his front porch, wrapped in a poor woven sweater that had weathered about two decades harmattan seasons with him mopping into distance.

Half heartedness is how he had been tackling things he was involved in these days. Tired of breaking the resolutions he made in January in third week of February. It had been that way since he could recall. Time it changed for good no matter how subtle. Tire of hanging his hands to cover his shortcomings where they really not belong. Wisdom has many definitions, he is tired of defining it in his own family tree words, ways and actions. Nay, not any more, ancient must give way for modern. Time something give way in his lineage.

Why is he educated without job, without money, without social standing of any kind, infact, he had been covering, down playing the true standing he has with the people, his kinsmen, church people etc. Infact, they rate him where they rate no gooders, not in form of radical or negative form of any nature but the society he found himself in judges how sound one is by how much money he has not even what he has contributed to the society. Poor man's sacrifices are never recognized. They are not tangible in real sense.

Mr Johnson had been pretending he had not noticed that but the way one is talked to in public even by the educated, should be enough indicator. To Mr Johnson, enough is enough. His condition needs to change by force this coming new year which is two days away. His resolutions this year had been prepared last night and all didn't make a single sense to him making them, he decided it was a sign of good things to come. His hopes were high, after last night, and how those radical ideas and radical ways suddenly entered his mind is an indicator that heaven is in support. He had listed all the opposite of what he had ever listed as resolution and padded and jampacked them into a sheet of long notebook torn off a notebook he bought for this.

He decided last night that he would not only write the opposite of what he has ever written but also do the opposite of all he has ever done. He decided that private prayers and mass bookings have not helped for a decade since he started this resolution thing. He has decided in his core to change methods. Collective prayers have to be the thing this time around. He wants to challenge himself, nature, God, and the entire heaven together. They have not heard him for a decade, maybe his means had been wrong. This time around, he decided to do otherwise. His local government used to organize what they called "ushering new year in declaration prayer sessions". Three Days event that starts at 10 in the morning and ends by 12 midnight. He doesn't like all generational and denominational prayer ways. He used to see them as 'anything' goes prayers. Now, they are introducing uniform wear and making the whole event sound and look like a Fashion show. Mr Johnson hates any prayer sessions organizers worry about the aesthetic aspects of it a lot. Why yellow uniform? Why uniform at all?  

     He sighed hard. "How do they even organize those prayers in the first place?" he queried himself. "Why yellow uniform in the first place, why not another color, green or something, why yellow of all colors?"

Since his father died from drinking that local brew mixture he never knew why it's yellow or its true content. The less he knew about that brew and the madman who decided he could make enough money bottling and selling it to the public without regard to the hygiene, safety requirements, and law, the better for his mental health. About seven years ago, his father and eleven others had joined their ancestors after drinking just a bottle of that brew smacking and laughing to their graves. Since then things in yellow have not been his thing. It had been the unvoiced out enemy of many families, including his. Now, the organizers have picked that same color again in what he believes they believed to connote gold. It connotes nothing but death in a yellow bottle as far as he is concerned. Nothing golden in a yellow. Nothing.

He had started to distance himself from some village and church activities and that didn't go down well with some people that never valued him from Adam and he started challenging those that challenged him and sticking his foot hard on the ground on things that concerns him. "Charity begins at home" he murmured to himself. To make true his stand on poverty and disrespect, he decided that there are things humans only could do and things heaven only could do. The earlier the better he start implementing those aspects humans can do for themselves the better for him and his resolution. He has no intention of wearing any yellow to the prayer session and he plans to storm the arena wearing green he believes signifies hope more than any other color. 

Two days later, the sky was a little cloudy, and Harmattan busy laying serious claim to the brand new year. He adorned his green woolen T-shirt on top of his black trousers, hauling his prayerbooks and bible along, he navigated his way to the declaration arena. He had thrown fasting along and decided that when two or three are gathered in the name of Christ, it is far better to a lone voice that has achieved nothing in many decades of fasting and praying. Bouncers stopped him and rerouted him and about ten others who appeared in an off-color to the back of the convention arena. He happily went to the back and sat under the canopy and went to work focusing all the way. He had planned to camp just outside of the gate. Back is far better.

Those in front seem to be focusing on the camera people and state TV stations that came to cover the events. For three days, Mr Johnson seemed to believe that the holy spirit as he felt the impact of the prayers start his journey each day there from the isolated canopy to the uninformed ones. He had challenged himself not to lose concentration like it is always with him. He can not even watch a program or read a book up to two pages without his mind straying. But for three days the declaration lasted, not for a seconds something like that happened. To him, that is a mighty sign that heaven is in control already of the year. 

"This year's resolutions, sorry for you. ultimate changes, here I come" he shouted on the final night.