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When drunks warm up for Jesus’ second coming
Sikaman Palava
To the hell-bound unbeliever, it doesn’t matter whether Jesus died on the cross or kicked off while in the wheel-chair. What they would forever be grateful for is that Judas did his job perfectly, sending Jesus to Golgotha so that Easter can become a yearly celebration, anointed with the flow of palm wine and tots of Alomo.
Many natives of Sikaman normally do not celebrate Christmas. They see Christmas as a bother. The kids won’t stop reminding them about their new shoes and dresses, hats, watches, and every nonsensical nonsensicality under the sun, moon and stars.
And the kids will not relent whether you are financially anaemic or generally ‘kpokpomatic.’ It is not so with Easter. It is only on Palm Sunday that the kids start whining about palm branches they would use to herald Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem. Loud Hosanna!
When I was a kid, I used to look forward to Palm Sunday. After we went to Jerusalem and back, we were welcomed home with Rice and curried chicken. And little Kwame Alomele would be seen dialoguing with a chicken wing in a most graceful manner, while eyeing a chicken thigh that is waiting to be peer reviewed.
PICNIC
I realised that the kids did not celebrate Easter in any definitive manner apart from the Easter Monday picnicking during which we drank a mixture of Coke, Fanta, Asana, Sprite and Mirinda and accounted for it very miserably and dishourably around midnight. The super- holy mixture turned the stomach at the eleventh hour and the result was one hell of a voting bout.
But it wasn’t only the children who vomited from mixing drinks. The big folks sometimes ended up in the gutter having mixed beer, stout, palm wine, akpeteshie (better known as sodabi). When they happened to eat kokonte and groundnut soup before drinking all these, what they threw up was a side attraction in itself.
The whole mess could be something amazing. But you are sure to see a crab’s claw somewhere, and you’d wonder whether the man swallowed the crab whole. The truth is that some people do. They don’t like chewing.
They are used to swallowing fufu and kokonte so much that they swallow virtually anything edible in sight. So to them swallowing a crab whole is no big deal. Just one of those things, if not a hobby!
To most folks, the celebration of Easter itself is not as exciting as the preparation for the event. Most guys would want to celebrate at Peki or Kwahu, the two accredited and gazetted Easter celebration points endorsed from heaven. Any woman whose husband goes on trek during Easter should be informed that the trek is not a genuine one. You can locate your husband swinging at Peki or Kwahu with a fair-coloured lady. I can bet on it!
Others would want to go to their own home towns to show off their moustache. But it all requires cash because while exhibiting your stylish upper-lip you must also “do show” to attract the attention of the ladies. You’ll need one to warm your waist when the cold comes at dawn. AIDS or no AIDS. All die be die!
So the preparations must include moustache-trimming, latest hair-shaping, cash saving and of course studying the latest dance style. Normally, you’ll not be expected to repeat the style you displayed a year back, otherwise you’ll be branded as not trendy. You must storm the stage dog-style and behave like an animal.
That is how the ladies will offer you “scholarship.”
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What has fascinated me most is the Easter Sunday church service. That is where the ladies release the latest or imported kaba styles. They come to church not to hail the resurrection of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, but to prove to all and sundry that indeed, they know how to dress.
And the way they strut to the church service is something I have never believed could ever be possible. But they accomplish it effortlessly.
You wouldn’t know whether the ladies want to fly like a vulture or glide like a crow. But they all, without exception, behave like a peacock. The men folk wonder at the ladies’ elegant clothing and their affected pomposity. With measured steps, they enter into the church hall, and instead of sitting the ladies perch like birds. They are possessed with the spirit of the occasion.
The Easter sermon is normally predictable. Judas will be condemned a bit, but not too much because the man is credited with betraying the messiah through which the redemption of man has come.
The pastor himself is normally in high spirits. He is expected to announce that Jesus has indeed resurrected after three days; and all eyes focus on him.
“His blood is what you Christians must strive for. It can redeem you from sin,” he’d wail.
SECRECY
If he is overzealous or happens to have taken some wine in the secrecy of his bedroom to loosen his tongue, he can say it exactly as it is, and risk offending the congregation.
“Jesus’ blood is for people like you sitting right here in front of me. You are fornicators, adulterers, crooks and common thieves. It doesn’t matter how well-dressed you are. After all, a decorated donkey is more or less an ass.
“Some of you are murderers, idolaters, rapists, armed robbers and car-jackers. With some of you, it was out of criminal activities that you had money to celebrate this Easter. It is for people like you that the Lord Jesus shed his blood. You need to repent and believe in his gospel.”
Everyone will be sure the pastor wasn’t referring to him or her. Of course, every Easter Sunday service is also attended by people who declare themselves village tramps and drunks. Once in a year, they come to the altar to ask God to free them from the witches who put pots into people’s bellies. They are expected to fill the pot with akpeteshie, but it never gets filled.
“Did Jesus die for me too,” a common palm wine drunkard would say aloud.” Pastor tell me something.”
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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