i be naija

On Creationism

I believe there is a Creator. Or, to put it more accurately, I’d like to believe there is a Creator.

But believing is not the same thing as knowing—at least, not in the epistemological sense. My ‘belief’ is different from what I consider ‘knowledge,’ in that it is based on an imperative not too dissimilar from ‘faith,’ rather than empirical evidence, discernible by the senses or through deduction.

I believe there is a Creator; I just do not know that there is one.

Why I do believe that there is a Creator?

It appears highly unlikely to me that the universe, in all its complexity, began spontaneously and without cause, out of nothing. The sheer diversity and organization of things would appear to require the concerted action of a creator. In order words, I believe it is more likely than not that a universe as complex ours resulted from some sort of higher intelligence.

Also—and I am convinced many people share this sentiment—my belief in a Creator is driven by a desire, nay need, for there to be something bigger than me… for there to be something that transcends my mortality. Believing in a Creator satisfies that need.

 (True, true, these two ‘arguments’ do not offer deductively valid support for the belief in a Creator, either. Nonetheless, I think that the first one at least, is strong enough to support that belief.)

Why I do not know there is a Creator?

I cannot claim to know that a Creator exists because I have not seen any empirical, fool-proof evidence for His (or Her) existence.

What is your own belief based on?

Do you KNOW that a Creator exists? What is this ‘knowledge’ based on? If you have a deductively valid (i.e. 100% fool-proof) argument for the existence of a Creator, do post a comment. Note though that anecdotal “evidence” do not count.

Finally, without convincing empirical evidence, I categorically refuse to believe in:

voodoo · juju · jazz · deities · shamans · shamanism · astral travel · ouija boards · reincarnation · sublimation · demons · demonism · demonic possession · Satan · Satanism · conspiracy theories · spiritualism · charms · talismans · cults · occultism · fraternities · confraternities · angels · archangels · demonic suppression · feng shui · organized religion · psychics · magicians · magic · witches · wizards · witchcraft · wizardry · curses · spells · incantations · heaven · hell · purgatory · the sixth sense · extra sensory perception · past lives · aliens · unidentified flying objects · etc.

Read the Poem, Abiku, by Charles O.

Background

To the uninitiated, Abiku can be a rather daunting piece. This is so because an understanding of the meaning and implications of the Abiku concept is necessary for a proper understanding of the poem.

If the belief in the supernatural is all-pervasive in traditional African culture, then the belief in the inimical and diabolic variant is even more insidiously ingrained in that tradition. Abiku (figuratively “born to die”) in Yoruba lore refers to one such malevolent spirit who appropriates and insinuates a woman’s womb to be born and re-born, for the singular purpose of unleashing recurring tumult on such a woman. The woman, then, conceives, carries the pregnancy to term, delivers, only for the child, Abiku, to die within the first few years of its birth.

In some cases though, the spirit-baby pities her mother and decides to stay permanently.

The poem Abiku explores the travails of a woman who has birthed several Abiku. Each conception brought her an unnerving admixture of “elation and despair”. Indeed, she inhabited, perpetually, the twilight between exaltation and grief: in one year she would conceive, in another, deliver, and in a few more yet, mourn the death of the child. The poem captures a moment when our protagonist, pregnant again, sits on her windowsill and gazes at the night sky. Crying silently, she prays the gods to have mercy on her, and have Abiku stay this time. As though in assurance of a new resolution, the child stirs within.

Imagery & Symbolism

“Death” and “rebirth,” “emergence” and “spiral … into abyssal depths,” “elation” and “despair,” “arrivals” and “departures,” are imageries at odds with each other. We sense antagonistic forces—life and death, emergence and downward spiral, et cetera—engaged in tense battles, as though for their very own continuity.

The “accentuation” of the protagonist’s belly by the night’s full moon provides another striking imagery. For one, both are round; for another, both are, literally, full. Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, just as the full moon heralds the dawning of a new day, the woman’s full belly portends the impending arrival of a new being.

Message

Undoubtedly, there are as many interpretations of a poem as there are readers of it. One of the messages I take away from the poem though is that, just as the protagonist, who had suffered repeatedly at Abiku’s hands, clung obstinately to the hopes of having a child that would survive past infancy, we all must remain steadfast to our higher aspirations in spite of (or, even, because of) the odds. We must, indeed, never resign ourselves to the accident of chance, or worse, fate.

Even in the face of forces seemingly outside of her control, our protagonist expressed hope for an eventual breakthrough (“maybe she’ll stay”) this time.

*

Rewritten from the original piece of May 9, 2002.

An unending cycle
of death and rebirth;
An emergence,
destined to spiral
swiftly,
disquietingly,
into abyssal depths.

*

Eyes red and tender
from years of incessant tears;
Years,
of alternating elation and despair,
ominous arrivals, and
torturous departures.

*

Seating on the windowsill;
Gazing at the stars with tear-filled eyes…
Her belly,
accentuated by the night’s full moon.
Abiku stirs within.
Maybe she’ll stay this time;
Maybe.

© by Charles O.

See a discussion of the poem.