Features
In the name of Jesus
PREACHING the gospel in Sikaman can take various forms. When it is not being done in the chapel where common witches can also attend and listen to the good news, then the message can be heard wayside.
Pay a visit to parts of Accra, especially Circle, and you are sure to meet a large crowd of unemployed persons, lotto magicians, and political analysts gathered round a spirit-charged, self-ordained pastor who behaves like a rattlesnake — it is not too clear what kind of spirit he has.
His message is also sometimes not clear. Apart from the fact that it is long and winding, it is seasoned with comedy and tragedy, salted with rhetoric, radicalism, and bombast. The end message is a promise of hell-fire if you do not serve God.
To those who listen, it is often an inspiring message, especially if they have not been winning lotto of late. In fact, some of these wayside pastors actually declare “three sure” every week. So far none has ever dropped, but hope is not lost. Probably Mr James Lucifer alias Jimmy Satan has been changing the numbers, and sooner or later he would be pinned down and given a spiritual injection.
To the poor who do not have cash to stake lotto, the message is even more refreshing. At least when they die, there is every assurance that they would reside permanently in the land of milk and honey where there is no accommodation problem and landlord palaver.
There is sure to be brown bread around to go with the milk and honey. No more mashed kenkey for supper and the legendary life-saver Face-The-Wall against groundnut soup.
Preaching the gospel is best done by Jehovah’s Witnesses. They are not concerned about matters of the state. They don’t salute the flag, don’t participate in sports, don’t bother whether it is President Rawlings or Adu Boahen who is at the Castle. All they want is to teach the WORD.
A typical Jehovah Witness evangelist is a well-dressed person, most probably in a bow-tie. He carries a spiritual weapon, the Bible, in a leather bag.
If he carries a small briefcase instead of a leather bag, it means he is also a transport owner. Most importantly, he is imbued with one quality many people do not have — PATIENCE. He is as patient as a Sikaman vulture!
His mission is to go from one house to the next to catch those who never go to church on Sundays so that they could be converted to become “witnesses of God.” I like them also for one thing: Persistence. Even if you get angry and sack them from your home, they would surely come back tomorrow, rain or shine. Before you realise, you are also carrying a leather bag with all your might, following them and preaching the word.
Such house-to-house strategic evangelism is very effective until a preacher man or a group of witnesses enter a home that has a dog. So that breakfast could be delivered on time. No messing up.
New wave
Of late, there has come a new wave of evangelisation, quite akin to Jehovah witnessing but a bit different in content. The evangelist invariably is a tall fellow in robe wearing a wild goatee, holding staff and then a Bible. He looks like Moses but quite unkempt. He goes from house to house and his mission is simple and straight to the point.
“I pray for people who have problems that cannot be solved physically and immediately. Thousands have benefited from my prayers. If you are jobless, don’t cry. Kneel down and let me pray for you. Marriage problems, childlessness, money palaver, impotence — all will go away when I lay my hands on you. Just have faith and leave the rest to me.”
They can really convince you and if you are desperate and a bit gullible, you’ll surely kneel down and be prayed for. Whether such prayers work or not is another matter. But mind you, the service is not for free.
How much you’ll pay will depend on the enormity of your problem and the length of the prayer delivered. Impotence, for instance, will naturally attract a higher fee than financial wahalla, because “matters of the waist are of high premium considering their reproductive implications.”
And when the man is praying for over 20 minutes and you realise the bill for the spiritual exercise will be too high, you only have to step hard on his last toe to warn him that enough is enough. If he continues, he does so at his own risk. Man no craze!
The problem with the Christian religion is that we no longer have professional evangelists, a term I would apply to those who have been called by God to do His work. Everybody can become a pastor if he wants to because there is no law against it anyway. He doesn’t need to train in a seminary and doesn’t need a calling either.
That is why we have freelance pastors, non-commissioned catechists, churches with evil-inspired organisers. Married women are told they need to be exorcised of imaginary evil spirits to make them prosper. Exorcism takes very intimate forms bordering on subtle forms of seduction and perversion.
How many times haven’t we heard or read about pastors impregnating women and sponsoring the abortion to get rid of the innocent child? How many times haven’t marriages broken due to the wicked and immoral involvement of so-called pastors?
Some women have left their husbands’ homes to cohabit permanently with church leaders because they claim the Holy Spirit has instructed them to do so. Apparently, people cannot discern between the spirits. They mistake a smart demon for the Holy Ghost and act upon its instructions. So-called men of God are corrupting society in the Holy name of Jesus, and we just stand and stare.
I am saddened by the fact that Jesus’ and God’s name have been exploited for selfish, avaricious, covetous, and evil-inspired ends of some people. If society cannot do anything about it, then we can only leave it to God. He is the final arbiter. And vengeance is His, according to the Holy Bible!
This article was first published on Saturday, March 23, 1996
Your Weekend Companion — Merari Alomele
The quiet crisis in the Ghanaian field
In many Ghanaian communities today, from the vegetable hubs of Akumadan to the grain belts of the Northern Region, farmers are being squeezed from both ends. On one side are the suffocating rising costs of imported inputs. Synthetic fertiliser prices that jump without warning and chemical pesticides that are not only expensive but often misused due to a lack of technical oversight. On the other side is the relentless pressure to produce in the face of exhausted soils, erratic rainfall patterns, and the emergence of aggressive new pest outbreaks like the Fall Armyworm.
The result is a quiet, systemic crisis; thus, our smallholder farmers are working harder and spending more of their meager capital on external inputs, yet they are struggling to secure stable yields or achieve decent profits.
Redefining organic: From boutique to backbone
In the current national conversation, organic farming is often misunderstood. It is frequently treated as a “boutique” label, something meant for the export shelves of Europe or the high-end health shops in suburban Accra. This narrow thinking is dangerous. Organic farming, properly understood, is not a niche lifestyle choice; it is a sophisticated biological system built around soil health, compost restoration, and integrated pest management.
For Ghana, this is not a fashionable trend; it is a vital National Resilience Strategy. If Ghana invests in organic and agroecological practices at scale, starting with decentralised compost production and credible safety standards, we can sever the cord of input vulnerability and rebuild our agricultural heritage from the ground up.
The problem: The trap of imported dependency
Ghana’s food production has become dangerously addicted to inputs we do not control. Our current model relies on a global supply chain that is increasingly volatile. Synthetic fertilisers and agro-chemicals are tethered to the price of natural gas and vulnerable to currency swings. When the Cedi fluctuates or global shipping is disrupted, the burden falls squarely on the Ghanaian farmer.
Organic approaches offer a practical escape from this dependency trap by shifting the center of productivity back to local Biological Capital: compost, green manure, and cover crops. These methods do not just reduce immediate costs; they treat the soil as a long-term asset. A nation that depends on imported fertility is always just one global crisis away from a hunger epidemic. By focusing on organic soil restoration, we transform the soil from a mere medium for chemicals into a living, self-sustaining engine of growth.
Climate change and the yield gap myth
One of the loudest arguments against organic farming is the question: “Can it produce enough?” Critics point to a potential yield drop during the transition phase from chemical-heavy systems. However, in the context of the climate crisis, this argument is incomplete.
Most of Ghana’s farming is rain-fed. As our rainy seasons become more unpredictable, synthetic-heavy soils, which are often low in organic matter, struggle to retain moisture. In contrast, organic systems perform significantly better under drought conditions. Carbon-rich, composted soil acts like a sponge, holding water longer and keeping crops alive during dry spells.
A slightly lower yield that is stable, resilient, and cheaper to produce is far better for a Ghanaian farmer’s pocket than a high yield that requires expensive chemicals and collapses entirely when the rains fail. Stability is the true measure of food security, not just peak volume.
Public health: The farm-to-table connection
The pressure to produce market-perfect vegetables for consumers in Kumasi or Accra often leads to the cocktail effect, where farmers mix multiple high-toxicity pesticides to ensure no insect damage is visible. This carries hidden, staggering costs: acute respiratory illnesses for farmers, long-term hospital visits for consumers, and a growing public mistrust in local produce.
Organic practices, such as biological pest control and crop rotation, reduce the reliance on these heavy chemical sprays. When we support organic-by-practice farming, we are investing in a preventive healthcare strategy. We protect the farmer in the field and the Ghanaian family at the dinner table.
The economic multiplier: Jobs in the green economy
Scaling organic farming creates a new value chain that could employ thousands of youth. Unlike imported fertilisers, compost and bio-pesticides must be produced locally.
• The compost economy: Establishing municipal organic waste processing plants creates jobs in waste collection, processing, and distribution.
• Bio-inputs: Local entrepreneurs can lead the way in producing botanical extracts and neem-based bio-pesticides, keeping money circulating within the Ghanaian economy rather than sending it abroad to multinational chemical firms.
A five-point action plan for a greener Ghana
To move organic farming from the fringe to the mainstream, we need a “who-does-what” roadmap that moves beyond rhetoric into institutional action:
- Scale up compost as national infrastructure
Municipal assemblies, in partnership with the Ministry of Food and Agriculture (MoFA), must prioritise the conversion of city organic waste into high-quality compost. We should establish regional compost hubs near major farming belts. Compost should be treated with the same importance as roads or electricity for it is fundamental infrastructure of food security. - Re-tooling extension services
The current extension model is often geared toward chemical-intensive agriculture. MoFA extension officers must be retrained to provide practical, hands-on modules for farmers. This includes teaching Indigenous Microorganisms (IMO) collection, advanced composting techniques, and multi-cropping strategies that naturally suppress pests. - Build truth-in-labelling and consumer trust
We need the Ghana Standards Authority (GSA) and the Food and Drugs Authority (FDA) to establish credible, low-cost certification systems. We don’t need expensive international labels; we need a Verified Safe or Organic-by-Practice seal that allows a consumer at Agbogbloshie market to buy with confidence, knowing the produce is free from toxic residues. - Leverage institutional procurement
The government is one of the biggest food buyers in the country. The Ghana School Feeding Programme and government hospitals should pilot sourcing from verified organic-by-practice farms. This provides a guaranteed market and a price floor for farmers who take the risk to transition away from chemicals. - Incentives for the next generation
Organic farming is high-knowledge farming. We must provide small grants or low-interest Green Credits for youth-led cooperatives. If we give young graduates the tools to start Soil Clinics or composting businesses, we make agriculture attractive, modern, and profitable.
Conclusion: The choice before us
Organic farming is not a luxury for the wealthy; it is a strategy for national survival. It is the path toward a Ghana that is less dependent on the whims of global markets and more reliant on the strength of its own ecological intelligence.
Ghana must decide now! Will we keep chasing short-term productivity through expensive, imported dependency? Or will we build a lasting food system through soil restoration and biological wisdom? The sooner we treat our soil as a living national asset, the sooner we can secure a food system that truly serves all Ghanaians. The time to transition is not when the next crisis hits; the time to transition is now.
By Felicia Bonnah Quansah
After a couple of days, Martin had finished breakfast and was about to leave, when his mother motioned to him to wait.
“Martin, I came here from Koforidua three days ago, not because I have nothing to do at home, but because your father and I thought we should find out how you and Sarah are doing. Yet since I’ve been here, you’ve not sat down with me for even fifteen minutes.”
“Mama, I’m getting late for work. Can’t this wait till when I get back in the evening?”
“When will you come back this evening? And in what state will you be? What’s happening to you, Martin? Where do you go after work every evening?”
“Mama,” he said as he moved to the door, “I’m sorry I have to leave. Moreover, I’m not a boy anymore. I’m quite capable of managing my affairs.”
But his mother blocked the door.
“If you are capable of managing your own affairs, why did you call to make all those complaints about Sarah? Since I’ve been here, I’ve noticed that the place is always clean, there’s always good food available. She washes your clothes and even irons them. And what’s your response? You’ve turned yourself into a ghost, leaving home first thing in the morning and coming home late, every day. All those tales you told us about Sarah, they have turned out to be lies. Listen, you either change this stupid lifestyle, or we will force you to change.”
“What will you do, Mama, beat me up?”
His Mama surprised him with a big, nasty slap, nearly flooring him. Very angry, he picked his briefcase and went out.
He came home very late as usual, ate, and dropped off to sleep. The following morning he confronted me as I was preparing his breakfast.
“Sarah, what nonsense have you been telling my mother? If you can’t keep your mouth shut, then it’s best you go to your parents. After all, even though our parents gave their brief chat, the elderly lady went to her room.”
“So what’s happening?” she asked. “Has there been any improvement since the old lady has been here?”
“No. Things have gotten worse. Apparently, he called her and made all kinds of allegations against me. And she’s found out the truth. But you know, he’s not paid her any attention. He’s not sat down with her for five minutes. This morning he was quite rude to her, and she slapped him.”
“Oh dear. And she’s leaving today?”
“Yes. I’ve asked her to come with us and drop at the station.”
“I don’t believe this. Martin is not dropping her at the bus station? Sarah, where did you pick this guy from? If he can do this to his mum, then you had better leave before things get really bad.”
“His mum says she and his dad will go and apologise to my parents, and then I can leave. I have no regrets whatsoever. By the way, what did Paul Allotey say?”
“Basically, he liked you the moment he saw you. He wished you weren’t married. If you were single, he would have done everything to grab you.”
“Life’s like that, isn’t it? Whilst someone is treating you like garbage, someone else is wishing he could have you. He is quite a guy. But aren’t you hitting it off with him already?”
“He’s a very nice guy. I certainly like him. But you deserve him, so let’s see if we could make something happen.”
An hour later, I sent the following note to Martin: “Hi, this is to inform you I walked back with him, and he begged his mum to come back. Very reluctantly, she came down, and Martin picked up her suitcase.”
“Okay Mama,” I said. “I will see you at the house shortly.” But he held me again.
“Sarah, I need to have a word with you. Please wait a minute.” I waited as he led his mother to the car, placed the suitcase in the boot, and came back.
“Sarah, I’ve been very foolish. Please forgive me. I need you very badly. I, I’m in trouble.” He walked with me to Paul’s car.
“Hi, Dinah and Mr Allotey, please forgive me, I need to have a little discussion with my wife. Please.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” Paul said. “Sarah, let’s do it another time.”
Unwillingly, he followed me to her room. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she heard him out.
“Ei Martin, you see what your arrogance has gotten you. You prefer a prostitute to this beautiful girl? Let’s go to the police now. Twenty thousand cedis. Goodness! I’m calling your father, then we’ll go to the police.”
At the police station, we were handed over to Inspector Beatrice Addy who, surprisingly, listened patiently to Martin.
“Okay,” she said. “Martin, you are fortunate that your wife and your mother are standing by you even though you were disloyal to them. I will get together with my colleagues, and hopefully we can get at least some of your money for you. It appears that the lady is a fraudster, in addition to being a prostitute. So our team will locate her, and I believe you will recover some of your money. I am very glad that you have come back together with your family. I hope this unfortunate incident will make the family stronger.”
Dinah called soon after we returned from the police station.
“Okay, what’s the news?”
“He got into a problem with a prostitute he’s been going out with. She stole twenty thousand cedis from him. Now the scales seem to have fallen from his eyes.”
“Oh dear, oh dear. You can’t leave now then. Hang on a bit. Give him a chance. But don’t compromise on going to school.”
“That’s exactly what I plan to do. But I will insist that he makes changes immediately. No more hanging around with the boys after work, no more getting drunk every day. And I hope after the experience with the prostitute, he will keep clear of girls. Actually, from the signs we are seeing now, I think he is already a changed person.”
“Sarah, that girl, I don’t know what she did to me. I just, she seemed to control me.”
“You said you are in trouble. What has happened?”
“Immediately I get home, your father and I will go to her parents and apologise to them, then I will personally come back and take her home. I hope you understand the implications of the behaviour you are putting up. You are not only rejecting Sarah, you are rejecting your parents. You can go away. Sarah will take me to the Accra station.”
To my great surprise, he left.
Dinah came in just when I came out of the bathroom. She greeted Martin’s mother and sank into the sofa.
Paul stopped his car, and I carried the old lady’s suitcase in. We drove off to the station, and I led her to buy the ticket. I hugged her warmly, and she boarded the bus. As I was walking to the car, I saw Martin, looking as if he had been run down by a car, rushing towards me.
“Sarah! Please Sarah, where is she?” I pointed in the direction of the bus, and moved forward. But he held me.
“Please, don’t go away. I need your help. There’s something we need to discuss. Please.”
“She defrauded me. She asked me for some money when I dropped her yesterday. I took out my cheque book to sign out one thousand cedis, but she suggested that I simply sign it so that she filled in the details later. A short while ago I saw a message on my phone that twenty thousand cedis had been withdrawn by the girl.”
“Martin, I told you that the girl is a prostitute. She was waiting for the right moment to strike. Listen, I can’t handle this alone. We can’t make too much noise about it, but it is certainly a criminal case. Let’s talk to your mum. She will scold you, but she’s your mother.”
“Have you had the chance to speak with him?”
“No. His mother insisted that we make a report to the police. We came back some fifteen minutes ago. He just left for the office. He sounds really apologetic, but I won’t assume anything now. By the way, how did lunch go?”
“Very well. He dropped me at home. He’s picking me up at six.”
“You and the Borla Man are doing rather well, aren’t you?”
“Yes. The only problem I had was you. He has a soft spot for you, but now that you and Martin are sorting things out, I’m going all out.”
Martin came home at five forty-five. He hugged me and asked whether supper was ready.
“The stew is ready,” I replied. “I was about to boil some yam.”
By Ekow de Heer
