2016-10-15 San Paulo Nigerian Drug Lord has horrifying dream!
Dreaming about people like a lady whose "luggage" he packed - her story is Here (Nov 15)
Emeka had been a drug lord in Sao Paulo, Brazil, for more than ten years. One night he was gunned down in a street fight between his group and a rival gang. In a Sao Paulo hospital he had a Near Death Experience. He was one of the 15% of people who have unhappy NDEs - they see Hell instead of Heaven.
As his soul left his body it did not go up to Heaven in a tunnel of light. It went down in a hole of darkness to Hell.
In Hell he was shown to a prison cell. A solitary confinement cell. Small and cramped. No room to walk around. No window. No light. Just darkness.
Not long after he arrived, a TV set started showing a video. The TV set had inbuilt speakers that were on loud volume and could not be turned off. The set itself was enclosed in a structure that could not be touched. It played non-stop 24 hours a day. The video was the story of an African woman in prison in Hong Kong. She had been tricked and coerced by Emeka to take drugs to Hong Kong. Emeka remembered the day he seduced her with false promises of friendship and love. Then how he forced her to swallow 80 pellets of cocaine and go to Hong Kong.
The movie was a long one. It recorded every second of the 11 years the woman served in prison in Hong Kong. It showed her trauma when arrested at Hong Kong airport. Her shame as she was forced to excrete the 80 pellets in a Hong Kong hospital prison ward. Her pain at having to tell her family in South Africa that she was in detention. The sword that went through her heart when the judge sentenced her to 11 years in prison. The sorrow of not being able to see her children and parents. The agony she went through when her parents died without her presence. The extreme home-sickness of being away from her beloved country for so long. Her sleepless nights as all sorts of depression afflicted her tortured spirit.
As the movie continued year after year, Emeka experienced a cold sweat (... not easy in Hell ...) that left him continuously gasping for breath.
Finally the movie finished. But as soon as it stopped, another movie started. A shorter one. Only 10 years this time. But non-stop, 24 hours a day. About another one of Emeka's victims. This time a Venezuelan woman whom he also had coerced to take drugs to Hong Kong.
The same themes: the woman's despair, sadness, suffering, sorrow, depression. Non-stop. For 10 years. More cold sweating. Emeka's heart was pulsing so hard it nearly broke out of his body. He just wanted to die to stop this agony. No more, God. God, no more. I can't take it.
But there was more. Much more. Another 378 years of non-stop movies. Replaying the cruel suffering experienced by all of Emeka's 34 victims.
Yes, he had sent 34 women - vulnerable, needy, desperate women - to prison in Hong Kong. Some of them he had chatted up at the Galeria, San Paulo. Others he had found through social media.
34 lives destroyed. 34 families devastated.
Why Hong Kong? That's where he had Nigerian Drug Lord friends who found local mules to take the cocaine into Mainland China, to yet other Nigerians in Guangzhou. Those Guangzhou Nigerians then sold the cocaine to local sellers.
That brought up another set of movies. The stories of the hundreds of people in China whose lives and families were destroyed by the drugs which made it to China. 34 mules had been caught in Hong Kong. But another 16 had not been caught. Their drugs had got to China.
Those drugs had destroyed hundreds of lives in China.
The non-stop stories of those hundreds of lives now began to play in Emeka's lonely cell. These stories were much longer than 11 years. Many of them lasted for 30 or 40 years as initially young people spent their lives fighting cocaine addiction.
100s of movies. Most of them 30 years or more. That became more than 9,000 years of non-stop movies.
And then, when the 9,000 years of movie stories finished, a red-button appeared on Emeka's TV screen. It said "replay". And all the movies, the stories of the drug mules and the drug addicts, all began again.
This happened every 9,378 years, give or take a few centuries. At the end of every 9,378 years, the terrifying red button would flash "replay" and Emeka would cry out "No more. God. No more".
This was Emeka's Near Death Experience. When he recovered consciousness in the Sao Paulo hospital, dripping with sweat, he cried out "God, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. God, forgive me".
Then a strange thing happened. It happened a couple of nights later, when Emeka's hospital ward was quiet. Around 2am someone visited Emeka. Someone from the next life.
A small balding man with a beard. He took Emeka's hand and said "I was like you. I used to hurt people. I hunted down people and put them in prison. Some of them died because of me. But then one day, as I was on my way to a city called Damascus to arrest more people, Jesus appeared to me and said 'Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?' After that my life was never the same. I spent the rest of my life spreading the Good News. For which I spent much time myself in prison. Jesus saved me. Now he's sent me to save you. Your job, for the rest of your life, is to stay in this city named after me, and do whatever you can to stop other Drug Lords from destroying the lives of drug mules and their victims. Do this, and when you finally die, you will go not to Hell but to Heaven. By then the people you have saved will far outnumber the people you have hurt".
May the Church in South America one day venerate Saint Emeka of Sao Paulo!