The Ultimatum

The Mis-con-ception...

For the first time in her entire twenty-six year old Christian life, going through the two hewed marble pillars which serves as the entrance to the vast Church compound that fateful Sunday morning was the most dreadful. She instinctively looked to the left to see if Pastor Wiafe’s overused Hyundai i10 which served as a reminder of his modesty, was parked in front of the magnificent whitewashed building but did not see any car.  The lawn in front of the two-storey building which serves as the Pastors’ common room was deserted too, signaling Pastor Wiafe’s absence. As if on cue, she turned to look to the right and saw a handful of people scurrying off towards the domineering Church building situated at the far end of the vast compound.

 

She gazed at the dashing folks and did not know what to make of them. Maybe, she should just bore into their minds and find out if they were in Church for salvation and to do the will of God or if they were just in church to use it as a means to a superficial end. But before she could restrain herself from these self-absorbing thoughts, she was interrupted by the loud clanging of the towering Church bells signaling the beginning of the day’s programme. 

The startling effect from the clanging bells which annoyed her so much set her thinking as to why the church was still using tolling bells in a world where everyone has a gadget or two with a time feature and are not premised around the Church anyway.  What beats her even more was how she has never thought about this until now that everything seemed wishy-washy about the Church. And this is how she knew that her predicament was having a toll on her. It was the same time she felt a cold, damp tear trickle down her cheeks. 

“Oh not again!” she muttered as she reached for a box of tissue paper in a bag she clutched under her armpit.

She bit her lower lip which was already swollen as though, it will prevent the tear ducts from allowing the tears to freely flow, but her pre-occupation was more on how to avoid being the centre of any unnecessary drama where everyone would be heaping empathy on her as though she was incapable of taking care of herself. No! She was too strong for that.

As far as her wobbly legs and shaky frame could carry her, she moved from her initial spot where she was sobbing into the shadow which has been casted by the purported Jerusalem walls of the Church as she dabs the free flowing tears. 

Although, she is not keen on what she wants any longer, one thing remains clear, which is, she is not going to allow anyone to come near her again, let alone tell her what she should do thenceforth, especially her Mother’s friends who professes to be the epitome of morality and know everything from Archeology to Zoology to finally shatter her already dented and fractured ego. Thanks to them and other Church people, she is no longer cheerful and enthusiastic about life. 

If she had not been led astray by everyone; Pastor Wiafe inclusive, that, marriage was the panacea to her

numerous problems, she would not have ended up losing faith in the oversimplified tenets of the Church. Recalling their beliefs and their numerous experts’ advice as though it was a magic wand only threw her into another bout of uncontrollable sobs and she knew she was a sorry sight by now. Without mincing thoughts, she has come to believe that, the church is more responsible for afflicting the souls of the lost and wandering flock of sheep it claims to be saving by overstepping their boundaries and staying aloof when it was mostly needed.

Thankfully, she was not in Church that fateful morning to fellowship, she was done with Church. She came to see pastor Wiafe to discuss pertinent issues which were crucial to her marriage since he was the assigned Pastor who nurtured them spiritually and also doubled as their counselor when she was about getting married. Infact, he was the one who convinced her to marry Roland. Her three weeks marriage is on the verge of breaking and she doesn’t know if she even wants to save it…

The writer tweets @vilejah

Hogbetsotsoza 2015

The Annual Hogbetsotso Festival for the people of Anlo kickstarts in their chief city, Anloga,  with cultural displays from the various Schools in the Community. Here are some still and motion pictures for your pleasure.

Love from Anloga

The doomwatcher's almanac

So, I was having a random chat with Ringo, the other day, and we came up with some interesting observations about people and society which I would gladly share with you in a jiffy. But before I indulge you further I think it is expedient to introduce you, my dear reader, to Ringo; my imaginary friend who is always there when I need to dilate on issues.  And just before you go off the tangent that Mynah - the talking bird, is at it again, I would like to preempt your mind that, unlike you, who doesn’t have the time when I am ready to engage, Ringo is always there to interact.

 

It’s funny how most people think they are the last link in the human chain, thus placing too much

importance on themselves or even on their watch. For a moment, we become susceptible to all kinds of hogwash, making us believe we are at the tail end of the world and by extension the end of human history. Is it not interesting when some folks express their disgust about how the world has or is coming to an end when bad and turbulent times come around? 

Conclusively, some will die en masse every time a catastrophe befalls us which doesn’t mean that the world has come to an end. No! The world survived the holocaust; it even survived the great flood that saw only a handful survive, so what more can come? At most, you might fall a victim directly or indirectly but come tomorrow, the sun will still rise from the East and set in the West. People will work, eat, merry and have sex to procreate, except you, who would have become a part of the statistics, which is sometimes exaggerated for future generations to read, thanks to Historians.

As generational cohorts, we are not fine as it seems but it’s just our fair share of trouble and disaster being dished out to us. After all, dread has always characterized generations before us, except ours are highly sophisticated and cancerous; sometimes through the simple administering of a pint of a deadly chemical and the plunging of a syringe or even a nuclear bomb. It’s even more deadlier when you think of suicide bombers and viral infections such as Ebola on the other hand.

But whether these stories of conspiracy are personal or polemical, perspectives or allegorical, it would be in the interest of the reader to see beyond the matrix to see the reality therein, since there’s usually a devil or God in the detail. And while it is hopeful to have solace in the fact that good shall triumph in the end, be however mindful that the world has kind of thrived on terror and trepidation such as Powerhouses fighting against each other for superpowers, tales of big stones raining from the skies to end our existence in such a morbid manner, deadly and viral infections that yields to no cure, economic crunches that cannot survive all the economic theories and spiel and wetincallit. So before you go about there spreading rumors of your gullibility that the world is coming to an end, take note of your existence on earth, subtract it from how long the world has existed and the answer is your demise is near, not that of the world.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

writer tweets @vilejah                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

The State of our schools

It’s the aftermath of the annual edition of the JoyFm’s old skul reunion which is also touted as the biggest outdoor program in West Africa and I want to use this opportunity to pat the back of JoyFm who is ostensibly the poster child of the multimedia group of companies based in Accra, for instituting and achieving this feat and to also wade into the national debate of the estranged relationship between Religion and education.

I do not intend to bore you with the history of Schools but once upon a time, Missionaries with all

The Main Gate of Presec boys that leads to a citadel of Knowledge

intents and purpose set foot on our land to evangelize the word of God but decided over time to set up schools to educate the inhabitants of the land to facilitate easy preaching and conversion, then came the government to take over from the Churches, thus rendering them a pale shadows of themselves without a bearing.

Education, as one of the building blocks of society has lately been in the news for all the wrong reasons such as yearly examination malpractices, decline in discipline and excellence - resulting in weaker institutions, inconsistent curricula, devaluing of our certificates outside the shores of the land, unwilling and unqualified tutors due to inadequacy and unattractiveness of the teaching profession and now a political tool in the hands of the Politicians which often results in unbridled strike actions, probably due to neglect from the very people it has helped nurtured into positions of repute and also because the government has decided to micromanage the schools including the very ones that were built by and through the toil of Churches.

The government then intruded the educational system as it were through regulation which eventually neutralized and accorded every player in the educational terrain an equal status to probably drive home the fact that we are all equal, before the Law and even before God. Maybe, we should be thanking the Government for whipping us into congruence. Nevertheless, I do not think we are all the same and wields equal status like they try to impress upon us simply because I see and commune with different sorts of people in my everyday walks of life and have seen enough to still frolic in the idea of all of us being the same. However, whoever thinks that we are all equal can revel in their delusion.

In every society, continuity is of essence - to preserve their cultural orientations and beliefs, to at least give them a false sense of permanence.  This permanence or any effort at instilling it is not hewed out of frivolity but often arrived at out of practical convictions have become one of the very reasons why humans will procreate to continue their race. I also believe it is in the same vein that religious entities instituted schools to indoctrinate their very owns and other affiliates who find their way to their doorsteps.

Muslims and Christians with their varied sects such as the Catholics, the Wesleyans, The Presbyterians, the Anglicans and even some latter day churches, through their mission schools have produced a chunk of excellent individuals who have metamorphosed into giant brands and sometimes, with a lot of followings. Then came in too much liberation and the equality argument without recourse to the preambles and purposes of why the mission schools were built in the first place turned up a notch higher. 

All persons, regardless of their creed were allowed anywhere but should they not be compelled to abide by the tenets of the accommodating institution?

Personally, Muslims and traditionalists who have no school anyway can attend the mission schools if they wish to be nurtured by the indoctrinating school of their choice and vice versa, but such individuals must be compelled to go the full haul to align to the spirit and letter of the Church or their schools thereof. And rightfully so, to continue breeding legions of soldiers who are without a doubt the future of the Church and an extension of its doctrines to ultimately fulfill the purpose of establishing the Church. 

But what do we see?

The St. Augustine's Administration block in its full glory

Pockets of infidels found their ways into these mission schools and have over time become cystic and protected by the law through their fundamental human rights that they can even haul a whole institution to a battle of wits at the courts of Law. The mission schools have now become pale shadows of themselves because discipline which invariably is/was a key to breeding near excellence is no more. Students are not even caned any longer or where necessary it cannot exceed six. 

Methinks, if the powers that be do not have a problem with these churches or cannot impugn on their existence and their indoctrination thereof, then these churches should be allowed to build their own schools as an appendage to train students accordingly. These Churches also have a need for permanence which requires them to spread their tentacles and by extension, their dominance. 

To think that religious and moral education have been expunged from the curricula has only made the government’s efforts at neutralizing and thwarting the objective of the mission schools too blatant. Government should both build its own school and make it free education or whatever political gains they stand to derive from their gimmick and leave the religious schools to operate since their mother churches have been allowed to fester. Better still, the government should leave the administration and its bearing in the hands of the Churches and if need be, regulate it from the fringes. We all know now what it means to say that government has taken over schools as it is so evident in how educational standards have fallen to their lowest ebb but the question is why and how does government take over all the religious schools in the first place?

Thus far, it is even convenient to say that it was imprudent of the government to take over these schools because it doesn’t seem to be making meaningful strides. At most, education is even a distraction on government’s plate, looking at how they are still toying with what a senior high school curriculum should entail and look like? If a lot was achieved through crude and not-so-smart ways of doing things in terms of storing and availing data or textbooks in the past with the Churches in charge, why can’t we mobilize, plan and execute our agendas in this day and age where schools now take pride in websites?

 Writer tweets @vilejah 

Unscripted

It’s my birthday and I am going to tell you about a typical day in my life; a very true story at that. Being someone who like to play in the shadows of discreetness, I must say talking about myself gives me an indescribable feeling I dislike, but it’s probably because most are not worth writing about. I am a bad guy in a very good way, so anytime I decide to talk about me, I am either reveling in my deviance or gloating about the very few bright spots fate has littered along the journey or talking about the mundane things everybody experiences which is uncool for me. 

I would rather talk about things, discuss ideas, or join the men at the coffee shop or even listen, which is most of the time, than trying to impress you beyond reasonable doubt, simply because I am one of the very few who believes in the maxim water finds its own level. Yeah, who no know no go know, unless they know; the very reason that informs our choice of books by their covers. How else do you pick your books anyway? 

I must however confess that till now, I haven’t settled down on what to write about because I don’t know if I should talk about me in my teens, my twenties or now, my thirties. I don’t know if it should be me at the church, school, in the Club, at the Parties or Carnivals, Beach at night or during the day, on road trips or with family and friends and most importantly, I don’t know if it should be one of my downsides or upsides, but yeah, I’m hell bent on telling you one of my stories to at least inform or correct one speculation or a perception thereof. 

Alright, I will indulge you in how I was unanimously elected the Psychology Course Rep. in the first two years of my University Education at the University of Ghana, Legon until I relinquished it and stopped attending lectures altogether. It was the second day of Lectures and most of us were yet to actually understand where we were and what was happening. University education has begun and we are here some, at the Premier University. And you have no idea! 

Expectedly though but things were brisk and different. And yet, while some of us were still struggling to find the locations of lecture halls and theatres or struggling to memorize semesters instead of the terms we were used to or even trying to convince ourselves that we knew what credit hours meant, I was battling it out with a T.A. who was then a Law Student at the UGSoL to retract his words in course of his lectures to which he obliged, which in turn made me happy and we’ve since been friends.

Psych 101 is underway and the topic at hand is sources of Knowledge which he explains are divided into two main parts, namely scientific and non-scientific methods and he delves onto Tenacity, which is one of the non-scientific ways of acquiring knowledge. He explains tenacity as holding on fast to something or a belief and goes on to say, for instance, Christians believe in one stupid book which tells them that a certain King Solomon was and shall be the wisest man even in the absence of verifiable truth to which almost every student exclaimed “Oh!”

As if on cue, I yelled “Sir, you can’t say that” from the back to which everyone exclaimed “Eh” and
silence befell the lecture hall. You could actually hear the tick-tocks of watches and he asked me to stand up and I did. Things are about to get real shady, I told myself and then he asked me to explain my reason(s) for the retort.

Then I say “Sir, you can’t say that just because it did not happen in your time or there is no verifiable truth. Most of us were not born in the era of Dr. Kwame Nkrumah and cannot say for a fact that he lived even though he did and led an awe inspiring life which is already mythical to our generation. How much more a legend that is two thousand years? In fifty years time, anyone who chooses not to believe in the Kwame Nkrumah Story can resort to deriding him and his opinion will not become the new truth. Besides, Sir, the Bible symbolizes the faith of so many people here which is why you can’t say that” and the whole class cheered yeah, yeah, hear, hear, and anything people say when they pride themselves in a Champion.

The Lecturer managed a smile and thanked me for the perspective and instructively retracted that analogy and apologized by actually saying sorry which was humbling as he continued with the lectures. About ten minutes into time, he calls and beckons “You at the back, come here” and the class with their usual exclamations that sways in allegiance of who is winning or losing the turn of events exclaimed “3h3” meaning ‘as3m aba’. Honestly, I felt the jitters as I walked forward to the front of the hall.

“Gentleman, what’s your name?”

“Alfred Kpodo”

“I want you to be my Class President, will you?”

Hesitatingly, I answered “Yes, I will” then he turns to the Class and asks…

“Do you want him as your Class President?”

“Yes.”

“From now onwards, you are the Class President”.

“Thanks”

Then he asked me to take my seat to which I heeded and that first step I took after the introduction marked the beginning of my enjoyment of special favors on Campus. 

And, just so the import of my recount does not lost on you, all I am trying to say on this very beautiful day which also doubles as my birthday is that I am a Cancer and I can be very infectious. God bless as I dedicate my first Unscripted to my parents for showing the way in my quest for happyness.

Happy Birthday to me.

writer tweets @vilejah