Your Grace, the world seem to be ending so fast. In my last confession you admonished me not to let the deeds and actions of others lead me to sin. Permit me say, of all my failings, I hold no grudge against anyone but myself. Each in this life must endeavour to fight their own demons. I have discovered mine. They can be found in the seven deadly sins as taught me by the catechist. That very day, I stepped out with a goat skin slung over my shoulders and began to sojourn to parts of the country. Of every crevice and structure, the hoarse voices of preacher persons spoke of He that was to come. Who else is there to trust in this trying time but you Saleh they asked? Some, no matter how hard they shouted, their voices seem not to penetrate the hearts of the brethren. Others in their supplications chanted mutually unintelligible words to Jah and like the Elijah and Baal’s prophets encounter, God’s ears were deafened. Then I thought of Isaiah 59.

 The soar and bitter taste of the effects of drugs continue to seep through the throats of the youth. The problems escalate and things could get worse. We are desperately reducing ourselves to senseless animals who copulate anywhere and anytime. The heartbreaking increase in teenage pregnancies, suicide, murders, and accidents. The sad part is the increasing nudity and the needless competitions among the stars of our time to show to the world who has the best of natural endowment. The body from top to down, is no longer the temple of God. It has, for some, become the temple of Satan through which the world must lustfully satiate the yearnings of their flesh. Saint John, pray tell us. What is it about humans and of their valleys and gullies?  Give us the Grace God, for we sure need it in this New Year.

No more is the case that one must have a certificate to work. There exist now the expertise yet no work. The nurses, teachers, artisans and farmers among the many think that the gods have reached the peak of their stupor. As I alighted from the bus, I could not say whether they were Chinese or Koreans. Before them I knew there were the Romanians who had come to Navrongo courtesy, some say by Chairman J. J himself. Their expertise was needed to construct the Trans-ECOWAS road. That day when I observed closely, they were mending a broken pipe line with two Chinese acting as supervisors to three natives. This is how we have astronomically retrogressed scientifically. We need the Chinese to fix our burst pipelines. Without them, the water will not flow. The people are fatigued and confused with this little thing called democracy. Some now call it infrastructure go, infrastructure come. Some have doubted if we ever could have a robust economic power house of a Singapore which started with us. Yes we can but then can we have a Singapore if we do not have a Lee Kuan Yew to pull us along. At the station the haggling went on. Democracy or something else. What was to replace it, they were afraid to mention. Some insisted we are all hypocrites and that we each belong to two associations whose committed effort is to loan off this country to highest bidder. We are either National Pick Pockets or associate ourselves with the Notorious Dangerous and Criminal association. Well what was I to say to this? It was a pito shed and people speak freely. Are their minds not weary of hoping and anticipating for one human, one heaven?  The two  associations I was told could have their power diffused if the Cock and the Palm tree solve their small problem of merger by quickly deciding whether the Cock perch on the Palm tree or the Palm tree perch on the on Cock.

Soonest, I entered into the church and all was radiating from the altar to the polished shoes and anything ‘polishable’ the mind can imagine. Getting home would mean I will have to miss the Holy Mass. The church was full and could people barely find place to sit. Gauging from the number of congregants outside one could say they were about twice the number inside. Two giant buildings have dwarfed the little church at each opposite sides. Getting closer how happy I was. Two churches being constructed at a time? What informed this decision? My doubts were cleared. The Knights and Ladies of St. John international and the Knights and Ladies of Marshall were each building Temples for themselves. Poor me. I cannot belittle how philanthropically the Knights and the Marshallans are to the Church and to the outside world but here are two giant buildings whose grand design and structures mocks the diminutive structure of the main church where all were to partake in the fellowship of the Lamb. I do not know anything about churches and how they should be built but my ignorance tells me when a society in the church appear to be getting bigger than the church then I should be worried.

Has our prayers not always been special? Well, after a long service, what I termed as social events took center stage. The aged started to complain. Their backs were creaking and their tired bones rattling. After one hour post communion, followed one special prayer after another. The hooting, continued. Special prayers for fruit of the womb, for exams, for outdooring, for travelling Visas held all captive. For if the Vicar of Christ himself has not left the church no one dare leave. The old muttered, “A second bidding prayer. When was this introduced”? Things practiced in the one man one church show are creeping in. That is where I perceive this to be coming from.

The sure thing for which many continue to cling on is hope. And every New Year brings hope. That in the many promises of life, each will receive their due. That each whose entitlement is naturally bestowed them by God in this great country will benefit just a little of it if not as much as that which is benefited by the gods who insists we must sell our birth right to foreigners in order that we live.

As we waltz triumphantly into the New Year, and as we hope and anticipate the goodies of life, let us be informed we are not better off than those who could not make it. Indeed we have only been burdened to continue where they left by ensuring that at our own time, when we shall depart, we will leave the world better and not bitter.

Joseph Aketema

aketema@yahoo.com

0207389924