When I Went to Hell

‘As I started to wonder what WHITE-ROBED CHURCH PRIESTS were doing here, I heard a voice behind me say ‘sons of vipers.”

What you are about to read is real. If you are one of those people who have no belief in anything whatsoever, then perhaps you have read far enough. There just is no reason to read any further because you will dismiss this as “fiction”, “fancy”, or “imagination”. It is none of those. This is a brief summary of what I have seen and heard during my stay in hell.

Hell is a world of great suffering. It is a world in which people are trapped, and cannot escape from. They wish to die but wishes are never granted here. This world of great torment is not easy to describe but I shall try. My words may not be beautiful, but perhaps fine writing will lighten the message.

Biafra, Nov. 1969 Medical clinic in Mabaitoti - Owerri.

There are souls that appear as little children. They are Black like me, naked, thin as bones, and shabby looking. These little children are on top of what looks like a huge refuse dump. The dump stretches as high and far as the eyes can see. How there came to be a refuse dump in hell is uncertain to me but my guess is that disused items from heaven are thrown here. Anyway, the children, naked as they are, search the refuse dump for whatever they can put in their mouths. I see some of them lying down-gradually succumbing to their hunger.

Suddenly, I am transported to another part of this world called hell. I do not know how I am transported, but I know that I have been, because the ground, the clouds, and the landmarks all look different. The people-both male and female-all dress in what one could call gowns or robes. The women cover their hair with large scarves. I wonder who they are and where they are from. Suddenly a voice says “these are the people from the lands in the middle of the east. They have been driven from their place by the terrible beast.” I turn around, there is nobody behind me. Just as I begin to hope I do not encounter the terrible beast, thick flames in the distance catch my attention. I begin to leave the people behind, and walk in the direction of the flames. I find an elevated spot from where I gaze and try to comprehend what lies before my eyes. It looks like an oil field that has been gutted by fire. I begin to think that the terrible beast must want oil, maybe just to set it alight. This is after all hell.


I return to look at the people who used to stay at the oil fields-to see how they are coping. They are not. Most of them look like they are sick and dying. Overcome by hunger and sickness as they are, I sense a silent dejection in them. They do not weep (why weep when there is nobody to console you?) and they do not complain. (Why complain when nobody will listen?) I see children clinging to mothers who have nothing to offer them. In one woman’s eyes, I see a look that can only be seen in hell. I begin to tremble. ‘Oh God, take me away from here’, I say. But as I catch myself, I laugh; how can you pray to God in hell?

(Read The Book of Freedom)

Night falls and I find myself in what looks like a big city. There are lights of different colors shining all over the place. There is also music-lots of it-coming from all corners of the place. I wonder how there can be music in hell, but as I look closer, I see that nobody dances or even pays any attention to the music. The people just move slowly, with their heads bowed and their faces gloomy, along the broad road.

I notice that it is not everybody that moves along; there are figures standing partly in the shadows, close to the buildings, and in the street corners. I decide to investigate. I see two people standing in a particular spot, and I approach them. As I suspected, they are women-well, almost. Even as they have all the physical features of women, one can see that they are children. Too young to be called women, and too young to be standing at street corners. Instead of love and care these girls are thrown to the streets to be used and abused. What suffering! One of them smiles at me. But her smile almost brings me to tears. I know that the smile is only a mask with which she hides the pain she really feels. I shake my head. Now, I too am overcome by gloom. I bow my head, and follow the crowd, even though I know not where they are going.

We must have been walking for hours because the darkness is starting to fade away. Soon, that terrible heat will overtake us again. The crowd stops and so do I. I follow their gaze and behold a raised platform on which a group of men stand. These men are not hungry looking people; they are dressed in bright colored robes and their faces shine like stars. I conclude that they must be angels of light. But as I begin to wonder what angels of light are doing here, the voice speaks again: “sons of vipers.”

On the platform, one of the sons of vipers steps forward and begins to address us.
“You will go to hell if you do not change your ways”, he says.
I am deeply troubled. Another hell, different from this one? Surely, it is wickedness to prepare another hell for all these starving, suffering people to go to. Does this man come to torment our minds as the suffering torments our bodies? I watch as the people move forward. They are putting things into a big black box just at the foot of the platform. I notice that the sons of vipers approve of this; they are nodding their heads in agreement. I must see what is in that box.

Against the flow of traffic, I push and shove my way towards the platform. Finally, I reach the box. What manner of trickery is this?! The box is filled with jewelry of gold and silver. And given by these suffering masses!

The leader of the sons of vipers has noticed me. He is staring with a terrible look on his face. His eyes gleam with fire and brimstone. I must get away before he stabs me with a pitchfork.

I wake up! I roll down from my comfortable bed to thank god that it was all a dream. But how do you pray to god when you are in hell?

Read More Here

The Book of Freedom              More Africans Should Read This

The Color of Poverty               More Africans are Becoming Atheists




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One Response to When I Went to Hell

  1. Pingback: The Illuminati: God’s Kingdom of Poverty and Slavery? | Onelovespace's Blog

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