In the course of giving ‘directions,’ Osofo Antubam asked two wom­en to wait till he finished with those in the queue. He had quietly suggested that he needed to spend time with them in order to detect the exact source of their problems, and they had also indicated their willingness to spend more time with him. He had one main objective in mind.

Mary and Suzzie had proven to be hugely helpful to him, but they had failed to help in the one most important area – the bedroom. He didn’t want to make the mistake of spending another night alone, and he wanted an alternative arrangement, just in case the girls disappointed him again. His action proved to be very wise, a few min­utes later.

“Osofo, we have finished. The total figure today for the offering, tithes and consultations is GH¢5, 200. We want to add them to yes­terday’s money and pay it into the account, after you have taken what you need for your personal and church expenses.”

“I have already taken some mon­ey from the consultation fees, so please pay it all into the account. I will see you at the house, won’t I?’‘Osofo’, Suzzie replied, ‘I wish you could go with us to the bank. If you could introduce yourself briefly to the Manager, we would then pay the money into the bank and give the receipts to you.” “Don’t worry, ladies.

Just go to the bank and see to on it, and call me. Let me know when you are coming to the house.” The ladies agreed and left. “Well then’, Suzzie said, ‘how much did we make today?” “Let me see” “Mary replied. “GH₵ 600.”

“Good. Now let’s pay his money into the account and go home. Did you see those ladies who stayed behind? I think the Osofo will be having them for desert after eating our food. “I saw it clearly. And did you notice that he wants us to call him when we are leaving for his house.”

“Mary, I told you that very soon the ladies will be fighting over him. He may keep us on for some time, but eventually he will sack us when he realises that we have no inten­tion of sleeping with him.

“Now,” Osofo Antubam addressed Maame Lydia, “what I want you to do is to go home and get a few things to spend the night at the mis­sion house. I will spend time to get to the bottom of this problem.

I assure you that from tomorrow, you will see a complete change in your business, and you will also notice that you will look radiant, and everyone will notice you for the beautiful woman you are.”

“I thank you, Osofo. I believe you. I know you will help me.” “Take this for taxi in and out. Call me when you are leaving home, and I will give you the directions to the mission house.”

“Now, he said to Abena Grace, ‘let’s go to the mission house. Today, we will solve the problems permanently. From tomorrow, there will be a new Abena Grace, prosper­ous and beautiful.”

“Amen, Osofo, thank you so much,” Abena replied as they walked to the roadside to join the waiting taxi. “It’s almost seven,” Suzzie said to Mary. Let’s call him. Mary called, and Osofo Antubam answered. “Osofo, the account was opened this afternoon.

We paid the money in. We have all the documents here. When shall we bring them?” “Er, Mary, why don’t you bring them early tomorrow morning? If you can’t get here by five in the morning, then let’s meet at the church.”

“Okay then, Osofo, I think we’ll meet you at church.” “I told you Mary,” Suzzy said. “He must be busy enjoying his desert. We will have another plan ready by tomorrow.” “How long are we going to be in this business, Suzie? When do we stop?” Don’t be silly, Mary.

Have you got enough money to set up your salon? As for me, I need money to pay the rent advance on a shop in a good location, some money to buy some stuff to stock the shop, and some cash to keep for personal expenses.

The rate at which we are going, we could be okay in about two weeks. A couple of rich men can come any time to consult him, and that could solve our problem quick­ly. Have patience, Mary. We’ll be okay very soon. And don’t worry about the wife or concubine busi­ness.

I have already told you that I will never allow this fake pastor to even kiss any of us.” ‘Osofo,” Maame Lydia said as they waited for a taxi, “when do I see you again? I can come tomorrow if you want.”

“Let’s talk after the service tomorrow. I will try to find some time’. He hailed a taxi, paid the fare and ushered her in. Within a few minutes of entering his room, Abena Grace knocked, and Antubam ushered her in.

He poured a drink for the two of them. Make yourself comfortable, Lydia. We will have an enjoyable evening, and at the same time, you will see the end of your problems.

The whispers woke him up. It’s getting to time, they seemed to be saying. The radio people will come today. Get ready to go with them. You can start in Koforidua, then Kumasi, then Accra.

You will soon be too busy for the daily services. Change from daily to Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. You will be in demand all over the nation. Very soon, others will be jealous of your success.

Antubam nodded in appreciation. It’s getting interesting, he told himself. Very interesting. “Osofo, did you hear some strange noises like voices?” Abena Grace asked. “Voices? Maybe you were dreaming, Abena.

Now, why don’t you get closer to me and forget about voices in your dreams?” She didn’t mention the subject again, but she was very certain that some strange voices were speaking in the room.

And she noticed that Osofo Antu­bam was listening intently and nod­ding. She needed solutions to her problems urgently, and her friend Yaa Takyiwaa had told her about this new pastor who was doing wonders, and urged her to seek his assistance.

She agreed to go to his home be­cause she thought that would help her get the solutions quicker. But even though she had never encoun­tered them before, she had heard stories about dwarfs who provided all manner of spiritual solutions to people who helped them.

And she knew that in the long run, the results were disastrous. No, she decided. She will not have anything more to do with a pastor who employed dwarfs. “Osofo, I want to go home before my parents wake up.”

By Ekow de Heer

Taxi drivers are scared when passing near the Accra Sports Stadium. One has told me, he was driving past the stadium at around 10:30pm when he heard someone running football commen­tary through the nose. What! He levelled the gear to third, fourth and then fifth and fired the accelerator. The car dashed forward in full flight.

Then he saw someone in the dis­tance stopping him for ‘dropping.’ The person looked like a soccer fan. Assuming he stopped and the guy turned out to be a ghost, could he control the steer and not end up in the sea?

He took a split-second decision. After all, ghosts did no harm unless you were responsible for turning them into ghosts. He’d stop and see if the gentleman spoke through the nose. He applied the brake and the car screeched to a halt.

“Take me to Labadi,” the man said, “how much?”

The taxi driver was too scared to answer. He did not know whether the man spoke through the nose or through the ears. Before he could say anything, the man open the front door and sat down. He banged the door hard! The driver wondered whether he was dealing with a human being or someone else; something transcendental. A ghost?

In his apprehension, he mistaken­ly put the gear into ‘third’ when it should have been in ‘first.’

He began moving the car. The wrong gear made the car jerk twice and the ignition went off. His first thought was that he’d picked a ghost who had just turned the engine off.

Wahallahi! Kakusunka!

Should he run and leave the car behind or simply scream for help? He did not know which would do under the circum­stance. He shook like leaf, fid­dled with the gear and sparked the car again. It sparked. The gear was at its right place.

He moved enroute to Laba­di, glancing cheerfully at the man next to him on the front seat. When the man got down and paid for the short trip, the driver said he thanked his stars. Actually he nearly defe­cated in his ‘supporter.’

Next time, he’d not pick an­yone around the disaster area. You wouldn’t know whether the passenger is a soccer fan in external glory, or true flesh and blood who eats salt and bread.

When he told me his story the day I chattered his car, I began thinking about ghosts. I haven’t seen any before and I don’t wish to. I don’t think it would be good for my health.

Fact is, I don’t want my blood pressure dangling like a pendulum. I am a simple man with no worries.

I went to a pastor friend and asked him about ghosts. They do not exist, he told me as a matter of fact. Every ghost is an impersonator, or an imposter.

“My friend get serious” I queried. “People say they see their dead friends, lovers, mothers, brothers, and so on.”

“That doesn’t mean there are ghosts,” he said. “The devil is only playing tricks. He impersonates people, using their faces to frighten others, to make them believe there are ghosts on earth, According to the Holy Scriptures, there are nothing like ghosts.”

“When you die,” I asked, “where will your spirit go?”

“To its Maker.”

“What for?”

“And before then, wouldn’t it hov­er on the earth?”

“What for?”

“So the so-called ghosts are in fact evil spirits and not human spirits?”

“That’s right

“Heard of the stadium disaster?”

“Yeah!”

“They say ghosts are displaying there basaa! You hear them at night shouting goa-a-l! ‘Offside! Penalty! and the rest. Aren’t they the spirits of the unlucky fans who died?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Meaning you are not sure.”

“I am sure dead people don’t shout.”

“But their spirits can.”

“Have your heard one shout.”

“No. But if they exorcise the place and there is no more shouting, doesn’t it means the ghosts have left?”

“It only means the evil spirits impersonating the dead people left. There are over one billion demons and principalities in the world .127 of them can easily be mobilised to be shouting at night to frighten people, to make them believe ghosts exists. That is no big deal for Satan.”

I was not quite convinced. Why would the devil want people to be­lieve there are ghosts if they do not exist?

At any rate if the spirits were exorcised with cows, sheep, and fowls then it was not cost effective. The authorities should have hired the charismatic churches to do the job for them. They don’t need cows to chase spirits away.

The other day members of a church were attending a crusade and carried pestles and mortars on their heads to the crusade ground. I was amazed. I thought they were going to pound fufu mid-way during the programme.

When I asked one lady whether the fufu was going to be eaten with groundnut soup or aponkye nkrakra, she said they were going to pound the devil in the mortars and that it was no fufu festival. “The devil will confess today,” she assured me.

Before long, a man also carried a carpenter’s saw and hammer. He was going to saw Jimmy Satan into two halves; no two ways about that. There, he hammer his forehead and him to vamoose.

Before I left a little boy walked past with ten canes.” we are going to cane the devil,” he promptly announced. “He’d take 100 lashes on his bare-buttocks, then he’d learn sense.

Of course, Christianity is becoming more practical than theoretical. The devil must be attacked physically, battered and pounded. But it might be wasted effort. Christians must learn to speak the word and the devil will flee. As for pounding and sawing and caning, you might as well do it as a produc­tive venture.

Sikama Palava takes this opportunity to express its deep-felt sympathy to the bereaved families of the stadium disaster. Not entirely belated, I hope!

This article was first published on Saturday, June 23, 2001