Mindviewers Stories

This afternoon, I woke up from my siesta to the sound of crackling and burning outside my window. I live on the third floor, so I get a good view of the farmlands nearby. Curious, I went to check what was happening and quickly realized something was wrong. Thick smoke was rising in the air, and the heat was intense even from where I stood. It turns out that someone had been burning weeds, but they lost control of the fire, and it spread wildly across the neighboring farms.

In no time, the fire brought down everything in its path. A large plantain plantation was swallowed up by the flames, followed by fields of maize, cassava, and other crops. The farmers' hard work and months of labor were reduced to ashes in just a few hours. It was painful to see so much destruction caused by one careless act. The sky turned dark with smoke, and the smell of burning plants was everywhere.

The smoke didn’t just affect the farms. It made its way into homes, making it hard for us to breathe. Every breath felt heavy, and the air was so thick with smoke that opening a window brought no relief. People were coughing, fanning themselves, and covering their noses with cloths. All we wanted was a breath of fresh air, but that simple wish was taken away by someone's lack of caution.
This entire mess could have been avoided if a little more care had been taken.

Last Sunday, we held our end-of-year thanksgiving service, and it was truly a special day. Church members were asked to bring gifts to exchange at the end of the service, which added a sense of community and joy to the occasion. The atmosphere was warm and festive, filled with the spirit of gratitude and togetherness as we thanked God for the blessings of the year.

The service had a wonderful Christmas song that filled everyone with joy and excitement for the season. The acapella group sang beautifully without any instruments, and their voices really showed how talented our church members are. There was also a lively dance session that got people clapping, smiling, and moving along in their seats. But the most important part was the sermon, which reminded us why we celebrate Christmas in the first place; to honor Jesus Christ. We were reminded that while the decorations and fun are great, His life and sacrifice are the real reason for the season.

After the spiritual part of the service, we shared a meal together. There was plenty of food for everyone, and it felt like one big family gathering. We also had a fun and engaging talk show where people shared their testimonies, thoughts. We closed the service with joy as sweets were thrown into the air, bringing smiles to everyone’s faces, especially the children.

Maybe I got hungry a little too early that morning, but it was one Saturday I will never forget. I had been trying to read for about half an hour, but my stomach had other plans. It was impossible to concentrate with the hunger gnawing at me. The decision was clear, no food, no reading. So, I decided to walk about 10 minutes to get a plate of beans.

When I arrived, I was relieved to see the place open. It was a popular spot, and people were already lined up, each with their own craving to satisfy. I joined the queue and waited patiently for about 20 minutes, my stomach rumbling in protest. Finally, it was my turn. I paid, got my plate of beans packed in a nylon bag, and turned to leave, already imagining the satisfaction of that first bite.

But life had other ideas. As I took my first few steps, I felt a shift in my hands. Before I could react, the nylon tore. In slow motion, I watched as my food crashed to the ground, beans splattering everywhere. My heart sank. The smell of freshly cooked beans surrounded me, but I was left empty-handed.

I stood there for a moment, crushed, feeling the weight of disappointment. I looked up at the seller, half-expecting her to be angry or dismissive. Instead, though she wasn’t exactly happy, she sighed and gave a small nod of understanding. These kinds of things can happen to anyone. She handed me another plate, and though it wasn’t free, her understanding was everything.

This time, I held onto that nylon like my life depended on it.