To Be Or Not To Be?

“In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth. But was that the beginning?”

The air in the class was dry, dusty; harmattan had been around the past month, and the dust clung to the furniture in the room. The question hung like death over the students on the receiving end of it, who knew better than to answer at this point.

Professor Onwuche was transfixed at the window at the front of the class, staring beyond the glass. He abruptly turned back to the class with a slight grin etched into his small face.

“My period is over but I don’t mind keeping you all in here for the next 20 minutes to discuss out-of-curriculum matters.” His watchful eyes darted to the student sitting directly in front of him.

“Matters of the soul.”

Nobody ever left after Prof. Onwuche’s class. The best part was the 20 minutes following the boring 2-hour lecture.

He began then, to pace up and down the class, locking stares with every student as he moved. Finally, he stopped at the front, his table, and picked a Bible off it. He raised the Bible.

“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. Who are we to say that was the beginning? What was God’s beginning? We will never know.”

“Where did you begin? Do you think it was your mother and your father? A subjective issue. Or did you begin when your great grand-father met your great-grandmother in that reading class? Or did you begin when one of your ancestors smiled at the other during the war? When? You do not know.”

A silence settled over the class, accentuated only by the squeaking fan above it, circling wearily.

“Where did we begin, Professor?”, a brown-eyed boy sitting by the wall asked. “It seems you know. Maybe we should ask you.”

A giggle rippled through the class. The Professor smiled.

He patted the top of his afro softly as he began his pacing once again, this time forth and back at the front of the class. He suddenly stopped, close to the door and turned in at the first row. He took a few steps before stopping at the seat of the boy who had just spoken.

“Therein lies the problem, Victor. I do not know.”

“Rather I will ask you. What if that forefather, did not smile at the other during the war? What if the war never happened? Would you have been? What if your great-grandmother skipped that reading class to sleep in that day? Would you have been? And that is the problem, I do not know. You do not know.”

The silence ate deep.

“Oh, dear sir,” Victor grinned, “whatever are we to do now?”

The class burst into a fit of laughter, unable to hold it at this time. The Professor smiled even wider. The boy’s good-natured jokes were never lost on him, and he didn’t mind either. Victor was the most attentive in these sessions anyway.

The Professor raised his hand, and the class fell silent as quickly. He walked slowly to the front of the class, and down to the window, staring into the distance again. At something, no one else in the class could see.

“None of you began when you were born. None of you, began, when your parents conceived you. Nor when your great-grandmother attended the reading class. Nor in the safe house where your ancestors met. None of you.

I cannot help but think that the events in this world are orchestrated. Every little act, every relationship, every smile, every service, the smallest disservice. So then what happens to man’s power of choice? Is it useless, or is it a tool to fulfill these events? Or is the power of our choice used as a betting stake, being watched by the powers that be, what these puny mortals do?

From the initial question springs another. Why? Why was that safe house built to accommodate up to 50 people? This is where I stop, my dears, for fear that I may go mad. I have a wife and children that would prefer me sane.”

“That is my answer, to my question, the one I have put in your hearts. The question of when and why. I do not know, and you do not know either. You may go now.”