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The Prophet part 10
Antubam held the needle firmly, his body almost shaking with excitement. After all the suspense, Betty was going to be under his control.
He would conquer that beautiful, intransigent girl once and for all. And after marrying her, he would take her sister, Mary, and her friend, Suzzie, as second and third wives. And of course, he would continue to enjoy his regular supply of women from among the church members. Wow!
“You can see her, can’t you?” the old, little fetish priestess asked him.
“No, not yet,” Antubam replied, his gaze fixed on the two mirrors.
“Keep looking,” the Okomfo said. “She is bound to show up.”
Then something happened, suddenly. A sound like a big windstorm engulfed the shrine, and descended with great power. Vvvrrrrrooooooom! It quenched the fire, and sent the three of them crashing onto the floor.
Surprisingly, the shrine stayed completely dry. For several minutes they lay on the floor, very weak, their heads almost splitting with pain. Finally they managed to sit up.
“I told you, Antubam,” the Okomfo said, “not to fight with those people. They are far greater than us. We don’t fight that book, and I always tell my clients not to even mention it, if they can. But you insist on confronting that woman whose head is permanently stuck in it.
Now, leave this shrine immediately, and come back in three days to perform purification rites to pacify Nana Kofi Broni. You have been ungrateful to him, after all those women he has given you. Now, leave.” He rose up to go, but the old woman raised her hand.
“Just a minute. He cannot leave without pacifying Nana Kweefi, the ruler of the mirrors. Nana wanted to help him, but his abnormal lust for women prevented this from happening. Now, follow me to my shrine, and I will enjoy your body for a couple of hours. That is your punishment.”
Antubam stared at her, disbelief and revulsion boldly written on his face.
“You dare reject me? Do you want to lose your manhood by noon today?”
Antubam shook his head and followed her. In twenty minutes they were there. She brought out a bottle from a big gourd, gulped down a good part of its contents and passed it on to him. Antubam took it, greatly relieved for alcoholic assistance in performing a very unattractive assignment. He did what he had to do and, still drunk, he scrambled to his car and took off.
He parked his car, and called out to his houseboy as he rushed to the shower.
“Bring me a new pair of shorts, and get my food ready. And put the whisky and a glass on the table.” There was no response. After several minutes’ attempt at wiping away the morning’s ordeal, he wore his trousers again and headed for the bedroom.
But just when he opened the door, two big arms grabbed him and pinned him against the wall, and another hand gave him a hefty slap. A man seated on the sofa nodded in approval and pointed at Antubam.
“Now listen, you interfering idiot. I came to give you some friendly advice. You should have known that somebody has been to Nana Broni ahead of you, and come to me for approval and advice. But you have just gone ahead to mobilise people, and now you are going on radio. From today, you are going to keep within the limits I set for you.
You will make sure you don’t approach my market. I have been in the business way ahead of you. I am known in Europe and America, and I have done wonders for many Ghanaians, Africans and even white people all over the world. I am far ahead of you, and you will operate in the areas I set for you. If you don’t do that, I will cut you down. You are easy meat for me. Is that clear?”
“But who are you?” Antubam asked, and received another hefty slap. He realised that he had to do something quickly before they did something terrible to him. He remembered the stick. With great difficulty, he released his right hand, reached into his pocket and grabbed the stick. With a sudden gush of power, he pushed his two attackers and sent them crashing onto the floor.
“I see the other man said. ‘You have received some protection. Get up, boys and let’s go. This idiot wants a fight. We’ll give him a good one. Get ready, Antubam. I will show you why they call me Gidigidi,” As they went away, Antubam shouted after them.
“You took me unawares, but listen, I will give you the bloodiest nose you have ever received in your life. Trust me. All three of you are just muscles and fat, no brains. If you have a quarrel, why don’t you go and settle it with Nana Broni?” As they drove off, Priscilla entered the house, her arms outstretched.
“Sweetheart, have you missed me?”
“I have learnt from experience that whenever you say words like that, my pocket is in for some serious trouble. But you are right, I have missed you. Why don’t we?”
“No problem. I will give you a good time. Your pocket must also remember to give me a good time.”
Mary picked up the phone. It was Suzzie.
“Why, Suzzie, can’t you sleep?”
“I slept very well, actually. I called to tell you that we must make a clean break with the past, and with Antubam, and stick with Betty. I thought about this whole Antubam episode last night, and I realize we were heading for trouble. I am sorry that I brought you into it.”
“Don’t be silly, Suzzie. We were desiring to do something productive with our lives. Nobody was prepared to give us any free assistance. But I also realize that we should have gone to God in humility and not get involved with that fraud. Betty brought us to our senses, just in time.”
“Now Mary, let’s hand it all over to the Lord, as ask Him to help us out. Is Betty up yet?”
“She is. We were just about to start praying. Why don’t you join us?”
“I’m on my way.”
By Ekow de Heer
When Abigail Fremah steps up to the Armwrestling table, the noise fades, the tension settles, and order takes over.
Despite a calm, but firm and meticulous disposition, she has become one of the quiet forces shaping Ghana’s growing reputation in the sport, not as an athlete, but a referee trusted on the continental stage.
Abigail’s journey into Armwrestling did not begin at the table. Like many Ghanaian sports enthusiasts, she grew up playing several disciplines. Football was her first love, but she also featured in volleyball and basketball during her school years. Sports, she says, was simply a way of life not just for her.
“It runs through the family. All my siblings are into sports,” she stated.
“I was involved in almost every sport in school, football, volleyball, netball, hockey; I did everything,” she recalls.
Her academic background in Health, Physical Education and Recreation laid a solid foundation for her sporting career. While on scholarship at the university (University of Cape Coast), she often used her modest budget to support young athletes, sometimes sharing skills and even T-shirts at programmes she attended. Giving back, she explains, has always been part of her motivation.
However, as she matured as an athlete, Abigail made a critical self-assessment.
“Armwrestling involves a lot of strength,” she admits. “Looking at my body type, I realised I couldn’t fit properly as a competitive athlete.”
That moment of honesty pushed her to a different trajectory but equally important path in sports; which is officiating.
During her National Service, she was encouraged by Mr Charles Osei Asibey, the President of the Ghana Armwrestling Federation (GAF), to consider officiating. He introduced her to a technical official, Mr Hussein Akuerteh Addy, who formally took her through the basics of Armwrestling officiating in 2021.
“I started as a case official,” she says. “We moved from region to region every week, officiating competitions. That’s where it all began.”
By 2022, Abigail was actively involved in national assignments, though she missed the African Championship that year. Her breakthrough came in 2023, when Ghana hosted the African Armwrestling Championship.
It was her first experience officiating at a major international competition and it changed everything.
“That was my first national and international exposure at the same time,” she says. “It really opened my eyes.”
Today, Abigail is a World Junior Armwrestling Referee, a status earned through performance, consistency and discipline. She explains that progression in officiating was not automatic.
“It’s all about performance, your appearance at African Championships, your conduct, how you handle pressure; that’s what takes you to the world level,” she stressed.
As a referee, Abigail’s priority is safety and fairness. Armwrestling, she notes, comes with risks, particularly injuries to the wrists, elbows, shoulders and arms.
“If athletes don’t follow the rules or refuse to listen to officials, injuries can happen,” she explains, adding that focus was everything.
Before every match, she ensures that all equipment which includes elbow pads, hand pegs and table alignment were properly set. Athletes are not allowed to cover their elbows, must grip correctly, and must follow the referee’s commands precisely.
“We make sure everything is fixed before the grip,” she says. “Once we say ‘Ready… Go’, there should be no confusion.”
She is also firm on discipline. Warnings are issued for infractions, and repeated misconduct attracts penalties.
“The referee must be respected, if you don’t listen, the rules will deal with you,” she says.
Abigail credits her confidence partly to her sporting family background. Her mother was a volleyball player, while other family members also participated in sports. Though they were initially concerned about her safety, her rise to the top reassured them.
“They were afraid at first,” she admits. “But they were also very proud, especially because some of them never got the opportunity to reach this level.”
Looking ahead, Abigail is optimistic about the future of Armwrestling in Ghana. In less than a decade, the country has produced African and world-level medalists, a sign, she believes, of great things to come for Ghana.
“Whenever we go out, we come back with medals such as gold and silver,” she says, and to her that was a sign of growth.
In the next five to ten years, Abigail sees herself rising to become a World Master Referee, the highest officiating level in the sport. Until then, her routine remains intense, training four times a week, working closely with athletes, standing on her feet for hours, and constantly refining her understanding of the rules.
“I love this sport,” she says simply. “That love is what keeps me going.”
Abigail encouraged women to be bold and intentional about their place in sports saying “don’t limit yourself because of fear or stereotypes.”
She also urged women to invest in learning, discipline and consistency, stressing that respect was earned through performance.
For Abigail, as Ghana’s armwrestlers continue to make their mark, she will remain where she is most effective at the table, ensuring the game is played right.
By Esinam Jemima Kuatsinu
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As he had promised Aperkeh, the elderly man and his wife and three daughters stopped by Aperkeh’s parents’ house. Mr Amando and his family were preparing to settle in for the night.
“Brother Ben and family”, Mr Joshua Amando said warmly, “although I know you are here on a matter that can hardly be described as joyous, it is still good to see you. You are welcome. Please sit down while I bring you water”.
“Yes, we will take water, even though we are hardly thirsty, because this is our home”.
“Okay, Ben”, he started after they had drank, “Let me go straight to the point. My daughter Priscilla has told me about the goings on between her brother Aperkeh and our daughter Stella.
Before informing me, Priscilla had expressed concern to Aperkeh about some habits he is adopting, especially the late nights and the drinking. She tells me that one Saturday morning, she was there when Stella complained about his drinking and some girls who had come to the house to look for him, and he assaulted her.
I called him and complained, but all he could say was that I don’t know what caused him to react that way, so I could not judge him. Now he does not answer my calls.
I have sent Priscilla to his house to call him, but he has refused to come. Unfortunately, Ben, my son is a much different person than the young boy who completed university and started work at the bank. I am really embarrassed about his treatment of Stella”.
“Joshua, let me assure you that even though what is happening is very unfortunate, it will not affect our relationship.
We have been friends since childhood, and I thought that with their parents’ blessing, the relationship between Aperkeh and Stella would grow to become a blessing to all of us. But there appears to be a real challenge now.
Stella thinks that Aperkeh wants her out of his house, and indeed Aperkeh himself told me that, about an hour ago.
So I’m taking my daughter home. I suggest that you do what you can to straighten him out, but if it does not work out, let’s accept the situation and continue to be one family.
I am sure that being the well behaved girl that she is, Stella will meet a young man who will cherish her. Fortunately, this problem is happening early in the day, so they can sort things out if possible, or move on with their lives if they are unable to stay together”.
“I’m really grateful for that, Ben. I will do my best in the next few days to reason with him, because apart from the relationship with Stella, Aperkeh is risking his job and career with this lifestyle.
A good job and salary offers an opportunity to gather momentum in life, not to destroy yourself”.
“Okay Brother Joshua. We will say goodnight. I hope to hear positive news from you”.
As he descended in the lift from the fourth to the ground floor, Aperkeh wondered who would be waiting at the reception to see him at nine on Monday morning. He had spent good time with both of his new girls during the weekend, so it had to be someone else. He got out of the lift and pulled a face when he saw Priscilla.
“Priscilla”, he said as he sat down by her, “what do you want here? You know Monday morning is a busy time at the bank. I am a very busy person, so say what you want, I have work to do”.
“You are very funny, Aperkeh. You are telling me, your sister, that you have work to do, so I should hurry up? Okay, Dad says I should advise you to come home tonight, because he wants to discuss the issue of Stella with you. He sent me to you twice, and you did not come.
He has tried to call you quite a number of times, but you have refused to answer his calls. He says that if you do not come tonight, you will be very surprised at what he will do. He says you will not like it at all, so better come.
“What is all this? Why won’t you people leave me alone? Stella is very disrespectful. I told her that if she wanted to continue to live in my house, she must obey me. It is that simple.
She chose to continue ordering me about, controlling me in my own house, so I told her that if she could not live under my conditions she should leave. And she left. In fact, her own father came and took her away. So what again?’’
“How did she disobey or control you? Was she complaining about your continuous drinking and late nights? And did you slap her on several occasions because of that? Did you tell her that if she could not live under your conditions she should leave? You actually said that to her father? You have forgotten that before she came to live with you, our two parents met and agreed, and gave it their blessing?’
“Why don’t you leave, Priscilla? I don’t have to listen to all that”. “Okay, I will go. Your father who gave birth to you and educated you to university level sends me to you, and you ask me to leave? I wish you would defy him, and refuse to come home as he’s telling you, because he is planning to give you the discipline you badly need. Let me tell you. Stella is such a beautiful and decent girl, and I assure you that someone will grab her before you say Jack. You are only 30 years old, and you have already become a drunkard”.
As he walked towards the lift, Aperkeh decided on what to do. He would go home, and calmly listen to what his father had to say. The old man was very unpredictable, and he wouldn’t dare ignore him. So he would take all the insults and threats, but as for Stella she was history. According to Priscilla, Stella was beautiful and all that, but she had not seen the two curvaceous princesses who were all over him, ready to do anything he asked. And these were not barely literate waakye girls, but university graduates from wealthy homes, really classy girls. With stuff like that, who needs a waakye girl? He smiled as he took his seat.
A few minutes to five, Aperkeh was packing up to leave for home to meet his dad when his phone rang. It was Priscilla.
“Aperkeh, Dad says you don’t need to bother to come. Stella’s dad says she came to him early this morning to plead that she would rather stay at home than return to your house. She thinks you are already decided to be rid of her, and she does not want to risk being assaulted again. So it’s done. You can go ahead and enjoy the nice life you have started”.
Before he could tell her to go to hell, Priscilla hanged up the line. He was partially stung that his dad had virtually cut him off. The last thing anyone would want was to fall out of relationship with his own family, which had always supported him.
But the truth was he was no longer interested in Stella. What was wrong with going by one’s feelings? He could only hope that one day, his parents and sister would try to reason with him.
By Ekow de Heer
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