Debbienho !

  What does Christmas mean to you?  No doubt, everyone will have a different answer to that.  Rest period! Christmastime is like 9 o’clock for tired millennials. We will use it to sleep. Not sure how it’s been for the rest of the world, but if you live in Ghana, you’ve seen shegey. Now’s the time to put your feet up on the table and relax, unwind, undo the stress of 2024, watch cozy television and sip a beverage of choice.  Danish cookie time! There’s no rule that it’s only at Christmas we should eat those fancy cookies that come in the sewing material containers, but let’s face it, Danish cookies hit different in December. So for some, Christmas is the period for indulgence, a time to stuff yourself with baked goodies (I love cake!), test the tensile strength of your bladder by drinking just everything, and visit every party.  Family time! Some people associate Christmas with reuniting with family. Many an introvert has had to suffer through phone calls and ...

Oh, you should check out Jonathan if you have a minute. He’s a great writer. * So, in the spirit of the season, we re-watched The Passion, and a few things stood out for me. Normally when I watch movies about the death of Jesus, I only notice the suffering (and try not to pay too much attention to it, lest I turn on the water works), but this time I paid attention to some of those involved in the journey between Gethsemane and Golgotha. I’ll talk about three of them. 1 Malchus ‘And one of them struck the servant of the high priest, cutting off his right ear. But Jesus answered, “No more of this!” And he touched the man’s ear and healed him.’ – Luke 22:50-51. Malchus was part of the crowd that went to grab Jesus. John’s gospel is the only one that mentions his name (18:10). It shouldn’t be so noteworthy that Jesus heals him, right? Throughout the gospels there are countless stories of Jesus healing people. Except, consider the circumstance. Malchus was part...

I promise when I typed this blog’s URL into the address box, cobwebs popped up. It’s been that long since I even opened it. In an effort to avoid harping on about my inconsistency, I advise you to check out Amma Konadu (if you haven’t already) when you have the time. * (PS Before you go to church, pray for a message. Pray that God will speak to you so distinctly you can’t miss it, because the point of going to church is to connect with God. And He will speak to you.) Today’s sermon was hard. Eish . It was titled ‘Be Committed to Your Call,’ which I renamed ‘Do Not Be Derailed.’ I’ll try to compress it into bite-size chunks. To be derailed is, well, to go off your rails. A train is supposed to move on its rails, and if it goes off its rail tracks it stops moving or may flip over. Every Christian is called to do the work of God. Some way or other, we’re supposed to lead people to Christ. But it’s insanely easy to get derailed in the cause of your work. Of course...

Christianity is weird. There, it’s out. And I don’t mean the Sunday ritual of going to church, because we know that stuff is nothing more than a display. I’m not talking religion either. That is rigid, full of rules and has absolutely no joy in it. I’m talking living with Jesus Christ at the center of your life. That one is a little strange. The point of Christianity is to follow Jesus. Following Jesus means turning from my selfish ways and taking up my cross (Matthew 16:24). Following Jesus means refusing to be conformed to this world, and instead being transformed by the renewal of my mind (Romans 12:2). Following Jesus means letting go the reins of my life and trusting God to lead me where He wants. Sounds technical, doesn’t it? Let’s break it down: If I follow Jesus, I serve Him. He is my master. Everything He tells me to do, I do! That’s…scary, isn’t it? Yes. It is. I’m born with free will. A mind of my own. So, okay, I’ve accepted Christ. Still I know what c...

Cain liked his younger brother. He really did. Seriously. Abel was so…different. He was so innocent, too innocent for this world, Cain reckoned. He looked at the world through rose-coloured lenses, saw beauty where there was none, thought there was good in everyone. He didn’t believe in vengeance, no matter how petty it was, like hitting back when someone punched him. To him people needed to be loved, and forgiven, not given a black eye for a black eye. Seriously . Who thought like that? Cain shook his head, giving his hands the temporary job of playing with the waistband of his garment. Right now Abel must’ve been gliding on air for all the joy he radiated, excited and chattering and talking some gibberish he must have considered boy-talk. Seriously . Abel had to be living in some eternal paradise of the mind. Too bad it was all gonna end. Soon. Because, much as he liked his younger brother, Cain could not quench the hate he had started to feel for Abel since the sacr...

I just watched a weird advert. Two ads, actually. The first was an ad for ‘water’ that is supposed to solve all problems. No, not the regular water problem of thirst, but specific annoyances, of people owing you money and refusing to pay, and other possibilities within that region. It looks like what you do is write your problem on paper, dribble some of the water on the folded paper, give it a few days, and your problem will be solved. The person that owes you will pay. That person telling lies against you will stop. This magic water comes in a box with a picture of a cross on one side and another of a ‘man of God,’ and ‘Jesus’ was mentioned a number of times, so I figure it’s supposed to be Christian. Another had to follow it. It was another ‘man of God,’ this time advertising his church, his powers. In essence, he was a bundle of miracles. He could solve every known problem on earth. Want a promotion? He’s your guy. And, he cures AIDS which has been given you by the enemy. ...

He spied his table. To his left, Basic Stats. Right, Mass Communication. Centre, oh, African Studies. Mchew. Small journalist wey he dey wan chop.   Tso . Even Anas and Nana Aba all couldn’t have done all this. And he didn’t want to think of all the Freud analogies he still had to appreciate… Double   mchew . He unzipped his bag, pulled out a phone. Around him stood shelves and shelves of books centuries old, or hours old, works of great dreamers and thinkers and lunatics alike, a reader’s heaven, a student’s prison. Scores of UG wannabe grads, and visitors who thought Balme Library a spectacular word of art and ageless, timeless, collection of ideas—or had just downright lost their way, or marriages, and thought the Balme a soother in its silent predictable monotony—stood or sat or walked around. He shrugged. Let them. He was going to relax. And he stuck the pin in the phone’s hole, and plugged the headset on. Time for inspiration. * Eish. S...