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Argument with God
My child was struggling for life in hospital,
And I, worried tense and tired,
Sat in silent prayer;
In violent silence arguing with God.
God, I said,
Why do you allow him to suffer so?
Why him all the time?
Why?
God was silent!
Not a word from him,
Not a word.
Maybe, I thought,
God is angry with me.
I’ll appease my God,
Promise Him to be good.
God, I pleaded,
Please God,
I am not a good man,
But I'll try to be
ONLY,
My child must live;
Live free from pain.
God, I continued,
You know how I love him don’t you?
Don’t you, don’t you, DON’T YOU?
But,
God was dumb.
Dumb, like my child.
Then I said to myself,
God is just.
I’ll appeal for justice.
He cannot deny me justice.
God, I called,
Though you are silent,
I am sure you hear me.
Be fair, be just,
Let him live strong and happy.
Then,
I saw on the wall,
A cockroach pregnant with egg,
In the pains of labour,
Bringing forth new life.
I snatched a newspaper,
And hit the cockroach.
It fell on its back,
Struggling for life,
And I crushed it,
With the heel of my shoe.
All the time I was praying,
Violently pleading for life.
— Christopher Henry Muwanga Barlow
1967
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