July 19, 2018

My sister, Love is a bad religion by Joy Isi Bewaji

My sister, Love is a bad religion by Joy Isi Bewaji

On Crime and Investigation network, a teenage girl killed her parents- went straight for her mother’s head while she was asleep. And with her brain a mash of horror on the walls and sheets, the child moved in on the father- in the kitchen, a struggle and then a few shots; he died shortly, after crawling to the side of his headless wife in bed.

The investigation didn’t take too long; American Police appears to be inured to crimes of this sort.

So you want to know why she killed her parents? Well, she was “in love” and “daddy wouldn’t let her be with her boyfriend”.

The solution to this, as she imagined, would be to end this impediment to love.


We are presented with this religion as desperate, suicidal and lethal as can be conceived. Girlfriends killing wives, husband paying lover to kill spouse; people slashing their wrists or killing a pet to get the attention of an estranged lover…

Voices in your head. Until the act is done, then regret follows. See what love made you do. How do you begin to explain the rationale to half the things we do for love?

Of course it’s not all gloom. But the scary issues just happen to have a smell you can’t miss.

Like a girl I used to know who went nuts on everyone. “I love Stanley. He must marry me.” She would repeat it a thousand times every day; and gradually it grew to ten thousand times, then her clothes started to peel off. One day, she was standing at an intersection, her palms slapping hard on the concrete and swearing to all that “Stanley must marry me.” She never came back to her senses.

What about the young man who wrote his own version of “50 shades of Grey”, and asked that his work be published? Love made him write a book of gibberish- about a chick who didn’t love him right; it was pay-back time but it didn’t turn out quite the way he anticipated. His last shred of sanity snapped. I would see him take long walks, looking like John the Baptist, albeit a calmer one; talking to himself- his afro so big and brown, accommodating rodents.

This love is a bad religion.

What about bad marriages- how they turn people into zombies; no destination, just bitter revenge eating at the seam of their mental wellbeing. There are also baby mamas littered everywhere with the promise of love gone stale; leaving behind children and women grabbing at any kind of happiness they can find anywhere. Nothing else counts but this need to worship at love’s temple.

How about men pushed by society to tie the knot when they’d rather be playing scrabble; all in a bid to gratify love’s commands.

Your dreams are all lined up neatly, until you are shaken by love’s aspirations- sometimes very selfish, like true religion.

I know women who gave up their education to be with a man- get married and have kids. Their goals truncated because Love called.

It’s a bad religion.

Why do we have to give up anything for love? Can love not find its place in the hectic and exciting lives we already have?

Why does this religion want to have us bowing at its altar for hours? Why can’t it be content with its status of just being?

How can we serve love without making a mockery of everything else that makes us whole?

Was it not the same love (or lack of it) that stood between hundreds of deaths and Helen of Troy? See how that turned out.

The story hasn’t changed much.

The wrinkles on your aunt’s face is caused by love’s disappointments, your edginess is caused by love’s constant frustrations, your doubts by love’s voracious need to demand unfairly that which it should sort for itself.

But you see, religion cannot worship itself, it cannot function independently. It needs followers, it needs believers and it needs those who are desperate enough to give up their existence for it.

Girls from 11 are already trying to win the affection of a boy in school; boys are busy trying to score a few love points. This religion catches up very early in life.

Almost every movie, every commercial, every intention, every thought has Eros love lurking in its ambit, finding a method to express its wants.

We can’t afford another religion. See what the bulk of it has caused in the world. Not one more, please; and definitely not one with flippant potentials. So let’s ask this love, what do you really want from us? Why do we act so stupid when you come knocking, why do you leave us empty? Why do you ask for so much and give back so little? Why do we need you at all?

Every human being has served on the altar of Eros love at some point. Good stories abound, but the crazy stories get the front page for the consistent and well recycled madness and sorry tales.

Like the fear of “hell fire”, love comes with a load of threats that promise to make us miserable if we don’t bow our heads in total submission.

But before you pick up your fedora of obedience yet again, ask yourself: how much of life’s issues has Eros love resolved to ask for this much devotion?

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  1. Rezthapoet

    What’s the difference between love and drugs? The withdrawal symptoms leave us worse until we get another dosage.

    Like Joy rightly said, we have been programmed this way from birth. Hence this dependence can only twarted by being reprogrammed (which is difficult for the adult) and ensuring children are rightly programmed.

    Else, love will continue to leave us scratched in the least and broken at the maximum. Always…


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