The Nigerian hell.

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So this man is brought in for judgement. The book of life is opened and closed. He is made to understand that his name was erased only a few hours ago, those pictures he posted on Facebook must have really been quite a sight. They cost him his place in heaven. He’s ordered to be escorted to the gates of hell!
He begins to plead for mercy. Another chance! One chance to make things right. He’s dragged outside the gates of heaven into the streets. As he makes his way to hell he begins to recall the words in that book. A book he religiously read, although he wasn’t so religious about living by. He remembers the gnashing of teeth, the wailing the crying and weeping for eternity. The lake of fire! If only he had known, he wouldn’t have posted those pictures of him getting freaky, or no, he wouldn’t have even gotten freaky.
He’s thrown into the city of hell. He’s set for eternal damnation. The thought of what his eternity would look like hurts him.
He looks around at the faces of those around him, he recognizes quite a number of them and wondered what they were looking for in here…
The words on the grave of the former bishop read as he rembered, “rest in the bosom of the lord”. This is not the bossom of the Lord. The female lead singer, he could recall them saying at her funeral, “we love you but God loves you more” then why did you end up here. The general overseer of that church,… Hmm, apparently someone didn’t practice what he preached.
He was made to understand that being a Nigerian he would be sent to the Nigerian hell. This came as a surprise. This was not written anywhere in that books. Curious he asked what a day in each hell was like and he was told that it was routine torture daily with certain customizations depending on your country. Hmmm. The Nigerian hell was going to be really terrible he thought.
They passed the American hell he saw people strapped to electric chairs with large volts of electric current being sent through his body, it was excruciating, sadly he was not going to die, because he’s already dead. In the Russian hell, people were made to roll around on a pile of red hot nails. In the French hell people were being stretched over burning flames, the stretching was bad enough, but the flames, now that’s hell. In the English hell people were being flogged with thorns, the agony.
Finally they stopped at the Nigerian hell and he was thrown in, it felt kind of different, there was no real torture going on, the demons were lazing around playing ludo with those who had been condemned for hell. Again he was surprised, he asked, what’s happening? When will the torture start, not like he was too eager to get to it though. He wanted to know what mode of torture was practiced here. A fellow convict walked up to him and asked, “are you not a Nigerian?” you’ve been to hell already,.. But then again, just as it is in Nigeria, over here the administration decided to adopt every method. But there’s hardly power supply and so the machines won’t work, there’s no fuel to heat up the nails, the demons who are supposed to whip you daily just come sign and go about trying to sell “aso-ebi” or they just play ludo, their pay doesn’t really justify the energy they expend you know. And every once in a while they go on strike so we run this place by ourselves. So welcome, welcome to the Nigerian hell.

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