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  • Walt Shakes

    Walt Shakes

    Walter Ude (@Walt_Shakes) is an award-winning Nigerian writer, poet and veteran blogger. He is a lover of the written word. the faint whiff of nature, the flashing vista of movies, the warmth of companionship and the happy sound of laughter. He blogs at mymindsnaps.wordpress.com.

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“In the navel of darkness

He shall come with light

In the hours of coming damnation

He shall come with salvation

One Man to come

One Man to save

One Man to condemn.”

His presence glowed magnificently as He stood in front of the Being seated on the huge throne, the Supreme Being whose likeness dazzled gloriously like His, and whose face was blanketed by a blinding light with no source, with a brilliance like the sun’s.

There was a silence everywhere. The atmosphere seemed stiffened by tension. Every being in the realm knew what was about to happen. Long ago the prophets of the old, those that really understood the meaning of Godhead, had said that He would come. They wrote that He would come. And today, He was about to go where the prophets spoke of. Anticipation filled the aura of the realm. It was time, the One before the Throne knew this. However, two emotions marred the beatific incandescence of His face – sadness and joy. Mostly joy. And just like before, that time so long ago, He knew what He must do.

“I have given them enough time,” the Supreme Being said. His voice was like the clash of thunderbolts, sonorous, yet with a gentle and compassionate timbre. “Their time was up a long time ago, yet for the love I have for them, I had patience. But what is written must be fulfilled. I gave them enough time to search their hearts and live accordingly, but many have rejected my mercy. They have turned their backs on my love.” There was a measure of agony in His voice.

The other being nodded, a nod filled with love and wrath and justice. “Your words are ever true father.” He sounded wounded too.

“Everything is ready, son. Go and separate the wheat from the weed.”

“Yes father.” And He turned to walk away.

Then thunder pealed. The mightiest thunder ever heard. There was silence for a moment. And a deafening trumpet sounded.


Somewhere in Africa, the Prophet of a popular church, Eternal Salvation Ministries, was inside a hotel room. The prophet, a tall man with a sizeable paunch and well-trimmed beard on his angular, light-skinned face, lay naked on the bed. Lying beside him, equally nude and tangled in the bed sheets with him, was his lover, Evangelist Paulina. The evangelist was stroking the prophet’s penis.

“Daddy, I’ve always wanted to ask you what will happen at the crusade this evening? What plans have you laid out for the people?” Paulina said in a quiet voice that the prophet, Ebenezer had always thought to be sexy and sultry.

“I’m not quite sure about tonight. We gave healings last Sunday, right?” Ebenezer replied thoughtfully. In spite of his preoccupation, his manhood jerked with the woman’s caresses.

“Yes, Daddy. We’ve been giving healings since last three weeks. Let us change our scheme.”

“So what do you advice we do?”

“I think we should do something different. We should sell the remaining gallons of the anointing oil in your office at the headquarters.”

“Don’t be so childish. The gallons are just eight. There will be thousands of people there.”

“This is the perfect opportunity to make great profit then,” Paulina said astutely. “We’ll raise the price and anyone that wants half a cup of the anointing oil will bring 15K. You’ll tell them it’s something that guarantees success in business, in marriages, in whatever. People will rush it. As long as you, Daddy, has said so, everyone will believe. Business will sell.”

The Prophet smiled lustfully at his lover’s wisdom. His penis did another bob in her grasp. “That’s why I love you, baby,” he drawled, and turned to mount her. “You’ve been a very good girl. Now, let me reward you.”

“Of course, Daddy,” she gasped with pleasure as he penetrated her centre. “Reward me, Daddy…”

Just then, outside in the sky, the trumpet that blasted like thunder sounded.


Somewhere in Europe, a movie production cast and crew was shooting a porn movie in a warehouse.

“Are you standing by, baby?” the director asked the two girls on the couch. He was a skinny, swarthy-complexioned man with shaggy dark hair and thin lips clamped over a stub of cigarette. “Are you ready to make me come?”

The girls giggled. “Yes sweetie.”

“Are you ready, ‘cos I wanna come, and I want him” – he pointed at the beefy man with close-cropped blond hair hulking close to the couch – “to come, and I want every damn pussy licker and cocksucker who watches you in action to come. You feel me, darlings?”

The girls giggled again and nodded. One was a redhead and the other was blonde, and they both had sizeable assets bared for everyone in the warehouse to see.

“Good!” the director murmured and then yelled, “Action!”

The cameramen were about to start rolling their tapes when the trumpet sound came. The sound was so loud, at once raucous and melodious that everyone in the warehouse froze, unnerved and bewildered.


“We warned you to stop writing about this your Jesus Christ, didn’t we?” the well-built leader of the three-man assassin snarled. “We warned you. You can write about anything else – love, drugs, maybe even politics. But Christ? Fuck Christ! Damn the sonofabitch!”

The heavily beaten man who was slumped over in the chair to which he was bound, glared at the man through eyes nearly swollen shut by bloody bruises. And he muttered with a wheeze, “Pre . . . preaching Jesus is my life. If I die . . . I die for . . . him. . .”

Slapping him, the leader spat out, “Really? Okay. Today’s your lucky day. You can die for your fucking Jesus!”

He whipped out a pistol, pointed the barrel at the brutalized writer and his finger curled over the trigger. However, instead of a bang, the four men in the room heard the sound of something that sounded like a newly-bought trumpet. Loud. Harsh. Condemning.


In every corner of the world, every being, dead and alive, was roused by the sound of the trumpet. Then like a dream, or a reenactment of some Hollywood motion picture, the skies parted, its dazzling blues dotted by a cumulus of cottony clouds giving way for the descent of a Man. He emerged with an unimaginable glory – the Son of Man.

When the import of what was happening sunk in, immediately several cries rent the global atmosphere. Shouts of alarm. Joy. Incredulity. Ecstasy. Confusion. From every man, prepared or not for this day, came a sound that betrayed his emotion.

He stood and He witnessed His welcome to the realm of earth. And He looked beyond them, those with darkness in their hearts, beyond them to those who He had come for, those who lived for him.

Written by Olisaeloka OnyekaonwuClouds

Leave a comment


  1. Yemie

     /  December 29, 2013

    I’m speechless! Oh my God, this author captured the rapture in a very visually thrilling and fascinating manner; am simply blown away, wowzer!

    Walter, wherever do you get these crops of writers you feature? Ok, that’s a rhetorical question. Lol!

    May the Good Lord open the eyes of our hearts, to receive His Words and commands IJN, Amen. Olisa, this is what masterpieces are made of and Walter, thanks sooo much for sharing. God bless us all and Happy Sunday.

  2. Thanks for this. It is a reminder of what we are living for…may we not get distracted and forget what is most important.

  3. abikoye

     /  December 29, 2013

    Oh la la!!!. This one got me conscience surfing. Wow!! Other than the good writing, the message is what I will hold dear to my heart.

    I admire this type of writing that make us stop to think about our ways and how we will account for every tiny teeny thing we’ve ever done.

  4. Excellency

     /  December 29, 2013

    I had goose pimples reading this. Lord Jesus, please may our thoughts, actions, words (written & spoken), decisions, principles & positions in this life, be in line with Your good pleasure, when You appear or we go to meet you. Amen! Dear Olisaeloka, God bless your soul!

  5. This great.waiting for the day of the coming of the Lord

  6. that day, oh, that day. It’s gonna be a day missed with different actions. Sadness, sorrow, joy, cries, happiness, blame, and so on…
    I know truely that the works of my hands cannot make me laugh on that day, but the salvation that I have received for Jesus Christ, His death, has saved me by grace. And because of this, I am happy.

    I am grateful. And I will keep working towards perfection, just so that I wont abuse that grace.

    This is a great write up, sir. This is the kind that needs to be shared frequently. So that people will know to never forget what is to come.

  7. Olisaeloka

     /  December 30, 2013

    Thank you so much for your good words. God will save us!

  8. Ini

     /  December 30, 2013


  9. funky

     /  December 30, 2013

    Love dis. Jesus is coming soon

  10. Kenechukwu Ibeneme

     /  December 30, 2013

    This is undoubtedly the best piece from Olisaeloka I’ve ever read! Captivating, skilfully put together and informative, Those Stolen Moments evokes compunction in the erring man whilst actuating Christ’s people to carry on the good deeds they do with utmost conviction of what awaits them on the other side. Olisa, thank you for this!

  11. Olisaeloka

     /  December 31, 2013

    Kenechukwu, thank you so much brother. I’m glad.

  12. This is a very graphic account – more graphic than I would prefer – but it makes a powerful point. Very descriptive, very thought provoking. It captures the unexpected Second Coming of Christ in a hard-hitting way. .

  13. shomykolad

     /  January 3, 2014

    Nice one Olisa..

  14. Moses opara

     /  January 18, 2014

    A capture of reality.

  15. Am really touched! What a nice piece

  16. Ifunanya

     /  February 6, 2014

    Oh my God!

  17. JanetColette

     /  February 6, 2014

    Beautiful! And worth finkin one

  18. Ekuma nancy

     /  February 7, 2014

    Never felt dis touched. Wat a truth revealing nd awesome piece


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