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
Attention-Deficit or Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) is often mistaken for laziness or indiscipline. In consulting rooms across Accra and in reports from school teachers, the pattern repeats: children who are bright but forgetful, parents who feel helpless, teachers who see incompleteness.
Research is clear-Barkley (2015) and others describe ADHD as a difference in the brain’s regulation of alertness, impulse and working memory, not a lack of effort.
The family’s role begins with structure. Regular sleep, predictable meal and homework times, and a simple visual list (uniform → books → water → corridor) provide the external scaffolding of these children need. Praise what is completed—“You opened the book and wrote the first sentence”-instead of rebuking what is missing.
Schools can help by seating the child front-row and centre, giving short written plus verbal instructions, allowing brief movement breaks, using quiet nonverbal cues and, where possible, grading effort and method as well as neatness. These adjustments reduce conflict and raise submission rates without lowering standards.
Couples and caregivers should share roles: one grounds, one pivots, and both protect rest. Shame-“bad parenting, bad child”-needs replacing with fact: different wiring, needs scaffolding.
Outcomes improve not by promises of perfection but by daily routines, clear limits and warmed connection. One homework slot kept, one instruction chunked, one calm repair after blurting-these small wins shift the family climate and let the child be seen beyond the label.
Resource
• CPAC (award-winning Mental Health and Counselling Facility): 0559850604 / 0551428486
Source: REV. COUNSELLOR PRINCE OFFEI’s insights on special needs support, relationships, and mental health in Ghana. He is a leading mental health professional, lecturer, ADR Expert/Arbitrator, renowned author, and marriage counsellor at COUNSELLOR PRINCE & ASSOCIATES CONSULT (CPAC COUNSELLOR TRAINING INSTITUTE) – 0551428486 /0559850604.
WEBSITES:
https://princeoffei22.wixsite.com/author
https://princeoffei22.wixsite.com/website
After two weeks of hectic activity up north, I drove to the Tamale airport, parked the car at the Civil Aviation car park as usual, paid the usual parking fee and boarded the plane for Accra.
Over the last two weeks, I had shuffled between three sites where work was close to completion.
One was a seed warehouse, where farmers would come and pick up good quality maize, sorghum and other planting material.
The other was a health facility for new mothers, where they were given basic training on good nutrition and small scale business.
And the third was a set of big boreholes for three farming communities.
The projects usually ran on schedule, but a good deal of time was spent building rapport with the local people, to ensure that they would be well patronised and maintained.
It was great to be working in a situation where one’s work was well appreciated. But it certainly involved a lot of work, and proactivity. And I made sure that I recorded updates online before going to bed in the evening.
When the plane took off, my mind shifted to issues in Accra, the big city. The young guys at my office had done some good work. They had secured five or six houses on a row in a good part of the city, and were close to securing the last.
When we got this property, unusually, Abena greeted them casually, and appeared to be comfortable in the guy’s company.
I was quite disappointed to hear that, because until the last few weeks, it seemed as if Abena and I were heading in a good direction. Apart from the affection I had for her, I liked her family. I decided to take it easy, and allow things to fall in whatever direction.
Normally I would take a taxi to her house from the airport, and pick her up to my place. This time I went to my sisters’ joint, where they sat by me while I enjoyed a drink and a good meal.
“So Little Brother,” Sister Beesiwa said, “what is it we are hearing about our wife-to-be?”
“When did you conclude that she was your wife-to-be? And what have you heard? I’ve only heard a couple of whispers. Ebo and Nana Kwame called to say that they have seen her in the company of—”
“Well said Little Brother,” Sister Baaba said. “By the way, Nana Kwame called an hour ago to ask if you had arrived because he could not reach you. Someone had told him that Jennifer had boasted to someone that she had connected Abena to a wealthy guy who would take care of her.”
I was beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. So I think Jennifer fed her with false stories about me in order to get her to move to the Ampadu guy. Jennifer must have been well compensated for her efforts.
“In that case,” Sister Beesiwa said, “you should be glad that Abena is out of your way. She is easily swayed. Anyone who would make a relationship decision based on a friend’s instigation lacks good sense. I hope the guy is as wealthy as they say?”
“Who gets wealthy running a supermarket chain in Ghana?” Sister Baaba said. “Our supermarkets sell mostly imported products. Look at the foreign exchange rate. And remember that Ghanaians buy second-hand shoes and clothes. Supermarkets are not good business here. Perhaps they are showing off that they are wealthy, but in reality they are not doing so well.”
“Amen to that,” I said. “I’m beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. So I think Jennifer fed her with false stories about me in order to get her to move to the Ampadu guy. Jennifer must have been well compensated for her efforts.”
She said that David Forson was only an agricultural extension worker in the north who did not have the resources to take care of a beautiful girl like her. And apart from being wealthy, the guy comes from an influential family, so Abena had done much better leaving a miserable civil servant like you for him.
“Amen to that,” I said. “I’m beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. We would be able to sell all five houses to one big corporate customer, and we had already spoken to a property dealer who was trying to find a buyer in order to get a good commission.
That was going to be my biggest break. I had asked the boys to look for a large tract of land on the outskirts of the city where we could develop our own set of buildings, blocks of storey houses and upscale apartments. Things were going according to plan, and I was quietly excited. However, things were not going so well regarding my relationship with Abena.
My buddies Ebo and Nana Kwame had called to say that they met Abena and her friend Jennifer enjoying lunch with a guy, and Ebo believed that Jennifer was ‘promoting’ an affair between Jennifer and the guy. They were of the view that the promotion seemed to be going in the guy’s favour, because only an agricultural extension worker in the north who did not have the resources to take care of a beautiful girl like her.
And apart from being wealthy, the guy comes from an influential family, so Abena had done much better leaving a miserable civil servant like you for him.
“As I’ve already said, I will stop by her place, but I will mind my own business from now. Hey, let’s talk family. How are our parents? And my brothers-in-law? And my nephews and nieces? Why don’t we meet on Sunday? I’m going to drop my bags at my place, and go to see Mama and Dad.”
