PHANTOM- A voice

I woke up from this half-patched raffia mat, carefully spread across the 10*12m room in which I lay. This room had mud walls enclosing its inner parts, with the lizard in the corner and the wall gecko as my only roommates. I could feel that my flesh had been enslaved by the raffia. The evidence was thick contours, drawn across melanin covered sheet of clay that like blankets in the cold rainy season covered the things that I call bones, or rather biology calls bones. To be real with you, I felt I had slept in a pile of stones. The silhouette of the moon carefully outlined on the frame of my window told me it was still hours before morning. A thought then occurred to me. Waking up this early was so unusual. I turned my medium sized skull screwed without screws on a handsome neck on its axis to the left. I caught sight of my regular night visitor, a mouse, eating away at my bag of corn. I was sure it was avenging the death of its uncle a night before. As I picked up the wooden ladle to dole out a similar fate, I heard the sound.

It was the voice of an angel in heaven ministering a solo to the King of Kings. Well, that was what I thought when I heard the sweet baritone sound of the rooster expertly exercising its vocal cord, it never missed a note. I don’t know why I did this, neither would I have advised anyone to, but I took my kerosene lantern, carefully untied the huge ropes that had been hooked to a nail at the other end of the door caging me in. Walking out of the room, I felt my feet cold. Thumping on the wet mixture of soil and grass, but I was bold. The mist had fallen, the weather chilly, nothing to help only my hands to fold. There was not even a star in the skies to behold. I looked out, ears propped, in search of the source of the KOKROOKOO. I saw NOTHING! ZERO! ZILCH!

I was disappointed. My PHANTOM Rooster.


For many of us, the crows of the morning rooster is a refreshing sound to hear. A signal of a new day, new opportunity, a grand opening. A gift delivered fresh on first class mail. A reminder of the goodness of our Lord who never fails. But wait a minute.

Could this same sound remind you and me about something else? About a mystery rooster whose owner is yet unknown. Whose sound brought the eyes of the Messiah gazing into those eyes of ‘he who would cut an ear for The Lord’ as if to tell him, ‘I told you Peter, you never really loved me’. The cock which caused the rock on which the King of Kings would establish His church to weep.

Matthew 26:33; Peter spoke up and said unto Jesus, “I will never leave you, even though all the rest may”. 

 I could just imagine went through Peter’s mind when it played a flashback of those words he carefully and proudly uttered to the Lord. The feeling of guilt, regret and despair as he instinctively wept. He had denied the savior. Our Savior.

 For many people, this is just another script of our lives, acted daily. We are masked Peters, wonderfully costumed in our everyday lives without guilt, shame, regret or even knowing it. The question I am trying to ask is, “How many times have you already denied Jesus?” When you woke up this morning without a word of prayer to your Lord as if to tell Him, ‘You can go to hell, I would have woken up anyway.’ When you cannot hold your Bible to church because ‘the folks on that block will know where I’m heading towards and that’s not cool’. Really? Since when did Christ’s public ridicule and death become a private inheritance to keep from prying eyes? You also won’t mention Christ’s name in any conversation with your boys-boys or girls-girls because John isn’t your middle name. You are struggling to fit in when you were created in His own image to stand out? After all this church service, bible study and rehearsals, are you a living epistle or a living apology to Christ’s sacrifice on the cross.

Isn’t it enough living this Christian life as a Seasonal movie? We care so much about this world that in a Flash like Berry, our spiritual Suits are pierced by an Arrow and we are no more the Originals that God made to inherit His Empire. Our life story only worth to be written in a Vampires Dairy!

So after 787 words, what am I trying to say?

Peter found it so difficult to deny Jesus because his actions, speech, dressing and demeanor depicted that he had been with Jesus. How easy is it for you and me to deny Jesus? How easy is it for the people around us to accept that we are just nominal Christians?


 Like Peter, has your rooster crowed yet?

The Blackmith's Touch

The clouds were heavy. Like a pregnant woman nearing labour, its sack threatened to burst.

                                                                              *
His back was against the bush. From where he sat on a board laid across two mounds of clay, the silhouette of his frame was beautifully outlined on the mud wall, albeit exaggerated. He was frantically puffing on a lighted pipe. Rumours had it that he smoked this hard when something had gone amiss in his day, eating him up and makes everyone around him prey to his anger. His wife and son knew that too well after being through several episodes of smacking from those two huge palms of his. Abena Amonowaa's blocked left ear and her son, Joojo's two missing front teeth were enough evidence.

                                                                           
Mawuli Gyata was his name. 'Mawuli' was given by his father. His other name, 'Gyata' which is actually an alias and the twi translation for lion was given to him by neighbours who likened him to the beast. He was 6ft 5'', partially blind and cross-eyed. His perfectly set teeth were creamy-shy from being yellow, with pink lips- one from the kisses alcohol. A blacksmith by circumstance, his dexterity with iron set him up perfectly to inherit his father's occupation, one that he hated.

                                                                         

                                                                             *

"Just look at how he inhales so much smoke and exhales less'', Julia quizzed with much trepidation as she stood hidden behind the bush with her partner Kelvin. "His muscles look like they were built from iron. So this is the kind of man we were directed to?" Kelvin didn't help matters with these words either. Both stood startled at the enormous task they had infront of them. Neither had the effrontery to take the bold step from behind the bush. The strong winds that were followed by deafening thunder gave them the ultimate excuse they'd wished for to abort their mission. The message to be delivered on another day. Just maybe.

                                                                               *
"Abena!! Abena!!, Where is this stupid woman? Joojo! Joojo!, And these nosy neighbours will call me Gyata. Everyone here has gone mad!" Mawuli trotted towards the main hut to steady the empty barrel that was falling on impact with the violent, dusty wind. He cupped his eyes with his right hand and held on firmly to the piece of cloth wrapped lazily around his waist with his left. He bit his lips and cursed. His frustration was further worsened by the raindrop that landed on his back. The cloud gave up its rains. "Those two dogs will come and meet me here", he muttered as he headed towards the door. When he saw two figures scurrying towards his hut, he held his breath and clenched his fists.

                                                                               *
"Thank you for your hospitality. We appreciate it greatly", Julia said as she adjusted her hair which had  been ruffled by the tumultuous wind. Mawuli barely heard her words as he was focused on jittery Kelvin. Kelvin sat there quietly staring at Mawuli and intermittently muttering something to himself, attempting to open the book on his laps and stopping midway. He had been conned by his host's 'cross-eyedness' not knowing that they had been staring at each other all the time. Whe he could not bottle up any longer, he opened his mouth damning the consequences. "Mawuli, i'd like to share something with you. A love story. One about Jesus". They were taken aback by the drama that unfolded.


                                                                             *
Like a mother who had lost her baby, Mawuli sobbed on his knees as he said the sinner's prayer. He felt an inner peace and relief from the rot he had been living. The more he was comforted, the louder he cried.He never wanted to be like his father. If only they knew his past. The times when his father beat him and his mother up. When his mother was gang raped as they tried escaping from the fangs of his father. If only they knew his 'cross-eyedness' was not natural and that he was living a life of bitterness, they would have brought this Good News earlier. The gospel of the Blacksmith of souls. He only could release those anvils that held him bound to his past.

He rushed into his room and was met by his biggest fear. Abena's bag and Joojo's favorite shirt were not tucked at their usual place. it dawned on him.

PS: Please share with me lessons from this story. I see evangelism no matter the circumstance. You?

UNCHAINED!

Stained with tears

Heart blurts with cheers

The fountain of ecstasy thrills my cistern

Mourning the 'death' of death, a delightful parting

That which the creator made with much musing, no regret

Yet the stranger took away with no sweat

Shackled at the feet, joints and arms

Chains held my knee, shoulder and gums

Darts of sin pierced my very soul

A hollow empty craving, a gory arrow

My heart bled, hanged on hooks to dry out

Only if i had shut the stranger's words out

        

Suited in deceit, his swagger and bling

A proud gait, perfumed in an expensive nothing

The world- His heartfelt promise to me

Sight of those pleasures filled me with glee

As i licked my eyeballs, wondering at my luck

Blind to the stranger's knife raised at my back

Like a love potion, i drank and deeply fell

No words could alter me, even those of my old girl

Was not to be, many voices left unheard

Orphaned, a city with no king, a family with no head

Wondering how i had piloted to my own death

Forces beyond i pray, snatch from beneath me this earth

But alas, through my prison gates, lights trickled in!

Striking the guards of dishonor, He showed He was KING!

In my jail crushed dream when suicide i'd boast

Empty prayers said, chains fell when they hurt most

 

HIS words were soothing, like a child's first lullaby

Finally, i would bid this darkness goodbye

All hail my KING, who for my sake died

And in whose arms i will forever lie

Remember, the devil runs around roaring

Like a lion, never is he snoring

Never give way to his cunning leading

Cos he will bring you down to your knees pleading

BLOODY Lover!!

She hesitated. His extended hand was bloody, dripping on those plush white sofa she was seated. He was not the first to profess love. She had heard this recital several times from several sons of men and had fallen for it a few times. She was determined not to kowtow this time around. But his eyes were piercingly handsome. The spark of innocence, the glitter of love and the stream of care and affection that flowed from his mouth when he spoke got her startled. She was confused now.

Natalie had been a victim too many times. Her first was Reginald. They were mates at the high school. He was the best at Biology. The standard by which other students were measured. She gradually developed a soft spot for him. As time went by, she topped one Biology test and that brought Reginald closer to her. They became very good friends who walked and studied together even deep into the night. Their friendship surged, generating a mutual amorous feeling both were too shy to admit to the other. It was during one of those late-night study sessions that their hormones showed their ungodliness, when their sex cells became too ecstatic and out of control. The topic they were studying at the time didn't help matters either, 'Reproduction in Humans'. In a blink of an eye, she was lying on one of the desks counting the cobwebs in the ceiling.
 She hated Reginald. She hated herself.

The spider responsible for that cobweb

Her second was Nicholas, whom she affectionately called Nicky. They met at the Aphrodisiac Night Club when he rescued her from the grips of the 'bouncer'. She and her friends went there for an"All White' party after their WASSCE. Her company of friends loved chilling, their mantra, "you only live once (YOLO)". Nicky was a nice guy. His smile was tangible. She could hold on and in it take solace. He was a smooth talker who knew which strings to pull at any material moment. They exchanged contacts and spoke for a few weeks. She visited him one day and that is where it happened. She couldn't resist the urge. She could not afford to lose him, her justification for initiating the act.

Day flipped on, weeks rolled over and the months grew by two. Her skin doubled, she felt heavy like she had an anvil chained to her waist. She went on, grisly pale when she missed her monthly flow, again. Ricky came her way in the third month. A fifth year medical student whom she felt could help her with an abortion, maybe he would wave a magic wand. Ricky, on the other hand, saw a beautiful lady with loose morals whom he could gulp down his lust-adorned throat. When he had his way, her eyes were teary, with pain, anger, regret, self-pity and great remorse. The abortion process was painful and she almost lost her life. Her parents disowned her when news reached them about their daughter's escapades. They were ministers of the gospel who could not afford to have a black sheep tied up in their sitting room. She was distraught so when opportunity came knocking, she grabbed it with a bear hug.

A hug for you

Richlove introduced Natalie to her three year old trade. She was a night worker who had her body listed on 'Circle's Night Stock Exchange'. Natalie began earning big as she was introduced to very rich and affluent customers. Her 100m dash with older men, 400m with older young men and the marathon with the younger men fetched her thousands of cedis.
 So when the white Rolls Royce Ghost Series II pulled up, she was quick to showcase her wares. The occupant requested for her and as her behind greeted the luxurious seat, she felt a pang in her heart. The feeling was weird, even to her. A sudden aura of peace fell over her. One she had never had in a long time.

They did not go into a hotel. Her jaws dropped when the car was ushered into a mansion with an automated system. She pinched herself to be assured this was reality.  All this while, the wealthy man had not spoken a word. As she sat on the sofa getting prepared for her mission, her host came in with a non-alcoholic wine and some cookies. She caught sight of his blood-drenched hands and feet, she attempted an escape. But when he spoke, she felt safe. The love in his words was unimaginable. He wasn't just another customer. He told her of her life story, things she alone knew. She cried uncontrollably. With this of memory of her  past, he still loved her. A love beyond that of her parents. He was willing to give her a fresh start. His new bride. He offered her the wine and cookies, a sign of the new covenant. With tears in her eyes, she took both and ate. She wanted him, body and blood. She grabbed his still outstretched bloody hand and hugged him. '' I don't even know your name, Sir,'' she said.  ''I am Jesus. Jesus Christ" he answered. 


PS: Our Lord Jesus has his arms opened, willing to embrace you. No matter how inadequate you feel, know that, you are the reason he shed his blood. The blood has not lost its power. Just go to Him as you are and find comfort. For in Him alone is eternal life.

Post PS: Feel free and leave a comment.

Unrequited Love

My phone blurted the usual bird-chirp sound. I  knew instantly that she had replied my whatsapp message. I sent her a message last night, waited frantically, with the hairs on my back doing the usual nervy azonto dance. Blood rushed though my face, my palms grew wet and cold and my Ralph Lauren could not soak my sweat enough when i saw those two blue ticks. A 'yes' would make me the happiest man on earth, a 'no' would make me the heart-broken poor boy who would sob his life away. It would take me months to search and put my life together from the heap of rubble it would have become. I fell asleep in my wait.

I met her on a beautiful Friday morning. My wallet could only sneeze up dust when i required some notes so i had to get my ATM card into an unusually active mode. The nearest ATM machine was on campus and since i could not even hear the sound of a coin from miles away, i had to do a Haille Gabriel Selassie.

 

Haile Gabriel Selassie at Beijing 2008

It was destined to be my lucky day enough to crown my walk-sprint. She was beautifully clad in a tight blue jeans with a pair of slippers. Her natural was held back with a ribbon and her light skin beamed to the rays of the sun( Disclaimer: there was no evidence of bleaching). She was indeed a gem of rare beauty. I doubled my strides and caught up with her, introduced myself and struck a conversation. We had a long chat amid my humorous one-liners( it's a necessary ingredient). I escorted her to her abode and almost forgot the reason for my long morning trip. My brain was so upbeat, in sync with the heart that it could easily interpret a Morse code from the heart but not a siren from the stomach. When it stung like a bee, i felt i was hungry.

We spoke on phone for almost two months coupled with my regular visits and our regular visits and our attendance to a number of programs on campus( sometimes u have to pay, u barb?). The feeling grew and i felt it was mutual. Once a while, a gift would move from my end to hers. I would not even talk about what i did for her on her birthday( in case my mum chances on this blog). Long story short, a young man had fallen in love with one of the daughters of Eve but the courage to say, he lacked( hw3, it is not easy oo). I therefore took solace in my whatsapp which could shield me from those piercingly beautiful eyes of my crush. Beautifully crafted, i sent her a message even Shakespeare would envy.

Now i feel tossed into a garbage bin, rejected by scavengers, trampled upon by stray dogs and snouted by pigs. My pride and ego stripped off me by shame and rejection. I felt humiliated, unloved. She didnt just send a no. She put it words she thought would hurt the least. "I'm sorry. I never knew how you felt. I only see and love you as a brother and that you"ll always be."     Unrequited Love!!!

 

The pain i felt brought me back to reality. Many of us treat the love of God as a stroll in the park. A leisurely relationship you can cope with. ' For God so loved the world, that He gave us His only begotten Son that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life'. What greater love than this!!! I f we were created in the image of God then He must be in a much greater pain when the people He created choose to treat His infinite love with disdain. He showers us with love, life, growth, family, friends,career and protection but everything goes down the drain when we repay with malice,disobedience, disregard for the Word of God, an ungrateful heart and a heart that veers from His marvelous light into utter darkness, the path of sin.It is not enough to go to church on Sunday or have ' Christian' on your facebook profile. Lets go beyond the vain mention of His Holy name. Christ didn't die for that!! Develop a relationship with Him. Know Him for yourself, beyond the Jesus your pastor preaches. He seeks a closer relationship. Open up, take a walk, hand in hand, with Jesus Christ. That will be the ultimate blossom of a love story.

 PS: Please post your comments at the comment section so i know what you feel. And for those who want to know how i'm feeling, well, i'm great fine recuperating now.