Planted, buried, and Okro that went to Harvard
Not long ago, My PoP said that the outcome is what differentiates planting from burial. Both planting and burial involve putting into grounds that were dug what we have prepared. The farmer takes the seed like we take corpses after digging the ground, puts it in the drilled hole, and covers them. The one who put the corpse into the ground leaves having performed dust to dust, hashes to hashes, and seldom returns except to decorate this spot without expecting what it puts in the ground to come back in the form of harvest. The farmer puts a seed in the ground and covers it much similarly but with the hope of harvest. The farmer will visit this spot often to water it or perform other agrarian practices in the hope of harvest. The process seems the same, but the outcomes he suggests are different. For many years through several life turbulence, I have constantly declared that I am planted, not buried.
Recently, I have changed my confession that this is not my burial, and if it is, there is hope. It seems to me that both the planted and the buried have hope. It is why I am convinced about the postulation of one of the foremost film scholars who work on the dead and undead in African cinema, who suggest that the dead are not only our past but they are also our future. Our ancestors are not in our past; they are our future, waiting for us. It is the hope I have for my loved ones whose physical bodies may have decomposed in different places they are buried that one day there would be a reunion. Various religions call this great union different things, but in the Judeo-Christian faith, it is called the resurrection of the dead in Christ. This hope of all planted/buried in the harvest of resurrection is the fulcrum of the Christian faith. I love how Apostle Paul puts it. If Christ has not risen, our faith is futile. And if only in this world we have hope, then we are of all men to be pitied.
Given the above, I will honestly acknowledge that both planting and burial do not look or feel good for the seed or those who see our loved ones buried. If the seed could talk, it would speak of this unpleasant period of being covered in the dark soil. This is the period that tries every human heart. That season of wondering, will I ever get up? To this question, My PoP suggests that if God and what he is going in our lives is always visible and arguably intelligible, Preacher will have no Job. There would be no need for coaches and motivational speakers. All these people are sometimes there to convince us to trust the process between planting and harvest, burial and resurrection. Like me, I hope this commemoration season gives you hope that the story does not end in the grave, whether burial or planted. That your current pain is not permanent. That you will rise out of whatever negative situation you are facing. That you have been planted, not buried.
Finally, I have been thinking lately that maybe planting myself in the gym and not always beside Efo riro and Amala will increase my chances of looking like Kate Henshaw at 50. Additionally, since learning that okro is good for weight loss, I have been planting myself beside seafood okro that went to Harvard via Wisconsin with plenty of obstacles with some white Amala(Lafun. P.S. my mother would be shocked in Heaven that I now eat Lafun). But you see, I have resolved that, Notwithstanding where I plant myself, there is still hope of a fine, beautifully sculpted woman because it is in my gene. Fine, like wine gets better with time.
Happy Easter people!
Posted on Facebook on April 9, 2023
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