DANA Plane Crash & The Limits Of Prayers By Rudolf Ogoo Okonkwo

Maimuna Anyene was killed with all her kids in the ill-
fated flight 992
Some people who know me well very often ask me why I
lost my religion. I don’t yet know why, but I will tell you
when.
After many years of being cajoled and dragged and
mandated to go to church, one of the few things I learned
was that once you die, you are dead. Your report card is
sealed. Nothing can change it. I was taught that after
death what comes next is judgment. It doesn’t matter if
you cool off a little bit in Purgatory. You next court
appearance after death is on Judgment Day.
So it baffles me when people pray for the dead. What
would such a prayer accomplish? Would it change the
grade the dead scored based on his or her life on earth?
Would prayers alter the evidence accumulated against the
dead? Would it change the judge’s verdict? How would our
supplication for the dead to rest in peace be fulfilled if his
work on earth had earned him a place without peace?
I believe the only use of mourning after death is for the
living to reflect on their lives. It is okay to recall the life of
the dead and the impact the dead made in the lives of the
living. But as far as influencing what happens when the
dead gets to the Great Beyond, I believe that is what is
called ‘medicine after death.” If there are people who
need prayers after a death, it is the living and not the
dead.
I hereby pray for Nigerians who are still living following
the deaths that occurred due to the Dana plane crash of
June 3, 2012. I pray for those Nigerians who will board a
Nigerian plane today and tomorrow. I pray that the
technicians who will work on the plane will not choose a
short cut in their maintenance work. I pray that the pilots
will have the strength of character to refuse to fly a faulty
aircraft. I pray that the government officials charged with
supervising and inspecting airlines and making sure that
they are maintained and are fit to fly do not collect bribes
and just sign off on works they did not see.
Of course, prayers are not enough. Rather than prayer,
people who really wish to help can take concrete steps to
ensure that the technicians do their job; that the pilots fly
only air-worthy planes; and that the government agency
overseeing airlines diligently monitors what the airlines are
doing. It is needless to say that a whistleblower is more
valuable than a prayer warrior.
I know that before I finish this prayer, many more
Nigerians would have died unnecessary deaths. Whatever
day it is that you are reading this, ten times the number
of deaths in the plane disaster occurred this day. Some
kids died in Nigeria from convulsion due to fever their
parents could not control because they had no money to
buy children’s Panadol. The Nigerian roads, ever in bad
shape, took their own share of Nigerian blood today.
Those who had accidents, who would have lived had our
hospitals been well equipped, died of their injuries. There
are always those women who died daily during childbirth.
Kids killed by water borne diseases due to a lack of clean
water.
You may not know about these people because they are
not under your radar. They do not run the banks. They do
not speak for corporations. They do not lecture at your
universities. They do not appear on Nigerian idol. They
have never sat inside a plane that you have sat in. They
are ordinary men and women, children and teens, in
villages and small towns across Nigeria. Your life has not
intersected with theirs. When you drive across their rural
abode, you often ponder why people still live the way
they live. You shake your head and move on to your
fenced mansion.
You don’t have to pray for them when they die. You don’t
even know how many of them die everyday. The
president does not fly down to their villages to visit the
hospital where they died. The governor of their state does
not declare three days of mourning even though the story
may get to him about the beautiful twins killed when a
fire consumed their home. Their local government
chairman does not shed tears for them. Of course, the
Lagos newspapers will not put their pictures on the front
page. If ever their story filters into your ears it joins “one
of those things that happen to unfortunate people.”
But death they died. And if my religion taught me
anything, judgment will await them too. The same way it
will await the president when he dies. And the governor
when he dies. And the general when he dies. And the
police chief when he dies. And the civil servant when he
dies. And the government contractor when he dies. And
the other leaders who have failed to provide for the
welfare and well-being of the people when they were in
position of authority. Death is the common denominator
that ultimately levels the playing field.
We live as if the prayers we would receive when we die
could wash away our sins. It doesn’t. It shouldn’t. It
couldn’t. It’s like saying that prayers can change your
grade after you have turned in your examination paper. If
it did, the whole purpose of the examination is defeated.
If, however, you are convinced that prayer washes away
the sins of the dead, then, we are not doing enough of it.
Just as prayers cannot shield us from punishment, so can
it not do for us the work we are supposed to do for
ourselves. The goal of prayers is not to cajole and drag
and mandate God to come and interfere on our behalf.
The limit of prayers begins where your responsibility
starts.
How did that son of a Kenyan student put it? “Change will
not come if we wait for some other person or some other
time. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the
change that we seek.”
We – taking action. Not prayers, muttered on our knees.
Please correct me if I’m right.

#CONSENSUS 2015