Tuesday, 5 November 2013

“TROSKI” WAHALA-PREACHER,SLEEPING PASSENGERS AND TRAFFIC


 Sleeping in commercial vehicles to and from people’s destinations have become the commonest one would notice aboard a ‘troski’ aside from the multiplicity of ‘supposed’ preachers going about what has become their usual activities-a new found smart money-making  move; albeit not all of them on a regular basis.
Men and sometimes women wielding Bibles accost passengers on board ‘troskis’ especially, and begin preaching what I call, ‘common knowledge’-things everybody knows already by my judgment……All they do is quote a few versus-sometimes in their quest to explain these verses end up misinterpreting the entire text, repeat a few of the famous ten commandments God gave to Moses and his people and then conclude with a prayer for safe journey, deliverance in people’s marriages, breakthroughs in their finances and the like.
Then VOILLLLLAAAAAA!!!!!!!!The time for offertory follows.
“If you are touched and want to support God’s work, just give any amount God puts on your heart for the ministry, your life would never be the same”-the usual lines they recite.
A number of times some passengers would sympathize with these preachers, who sometimes have very questionable outlooks and visages  by dipping their hands into their [purses-mostly women] to reach for some money after which a litany of blessing pronouncements would be made to these good guys in the troski.
It was quite late that evening, we had just closed from one of our many rescheduled lectures one Thursday evening from the Ghana Institute of Journalism; the clock had just chimed half past seven, night had fallen, and the chirping of the birds was as loud…….
Workers were returning home from work in their characteristic huge numbers causing massive human and vehicular congestion from Sankara towards Madina.The bats around the military hospital were flying all over the place as if they had just been released from cages, flying at heads-height, and the traffic lights took forever to turn green. Sitting between an old drunk and a deep-sleeping woman I suspect was a trader at the Makola market, judging from the white turned black apron she had on, it was going to be a terrible journey,[ I thought to myself.]
Though I occasionally dozed off in troskis, I felt it was a bit weird to sleep under circumstances that prevailed in the bus that evening. The windows were wide open, the lights off, yet it was incredibly hot in there. People’s sweat and breath generated a lot of sickening heat and stale air collected in the troski [encrypted at the rear,[CHOP YOUR HOUSE MATTER], made it practically impossible to gasp in some fresh air. It was an old, near-rickety one.
As if that was not enough ordeal for the poor school boy, tired and weary from a long day’s activities, it was time for money collection, the conductor, what we locally call,[mate],had just stretched his arm over towards the last seat to get his monies.
MY WOOOOORRRRD!!!!!!EEEEEWWWWWW!!!!What offensive odour emanating from the underarm of this rascal-looking mate, who was sporting a black sleeve-less shirt.

Quickly I pulled off my hanky to wrap over my nose-the pressure and torture had reached its zenith. The drunk to my left was as well fast asleep and already drooling………………………………………..to be continued

Continued-He exclaimed, 
Mate: ‘massa massa, me sika asa ooo’…
Drunk: Wonfa nky3 wo papa
-predictably so,the mate would not have any of that,he exploded,
Mate: hey hey hey blaa,fa me sika ma me…hwe,saa de3 naa mo y3 no-give me my money, you people are fond of it, you had money for alcohol.
Master Abass, the driver parked on the shoulder stretch and asked the drunk to alight abruptly; he would not move the troski unless the man got off. ‘Then things some’…..typical driver-mate style.
Sitting next to him, I had to give way, while he moved past on his way down the troski.Ear-deafening exchanges erupted all over the place causing more stale bad breathe on the bus. Those who were lamenting their lateness were at it,those who were heavily blasting the drunk were at it too. It was getting late; the man would also not off the bus, acting all drunk and absent minded.
It took the goodwill of a young fair female nurse, returning home from the military hospital, to arrest the situation which was almost warming up for ‘blows’. She had to get home quickly enough to feed her three year old baby and get enough rest before the next day’s activities.
She paid the 90p Mr. Drunk was eluding, before driver Abass moved the near-rickety troski.This didn’t go without some tongue-lashing by the passengers on the bus though. In an attempt to forget all the conditions there were in the bus, sleep came knocking. My eyes grew heavy and nature was gradually taking over, only a phone call from my mother saved the situation, and before I hang up on the phone and say jacckkk! A scarfed above middle-aged woman rose from her seat, and forward facing us, with her back towards the driver’s end and holding a book looking like a Bible, she asked us to close our eyes and pray.


She was a female preacher who was at her usual.
“Brothers and sisters, she began, God has plans for you, there are a lot of evil manipulations in this world today, the Bible says thou shall not steal, you would not kill a fellow man.If you pray, you would get your breakthrough”.
 All through the ‘sermon’ I was thinking to myself, everything the woman was saying were pretty much general knowledge, she didn’t add to existing knowledge, as the scholars would say, these individuals who pose as preachers needed to be stopped in their tracks at some point. I wondered if I could expose the smart extortionist models these people most of whom are [fake-without mincing words] use to get monies from unsuspecting heaven seekers.
The point I was waiting for came; I knew the plea and request for offertory would come, so I recited;
“Please if God places on your heart any token to support the ministry, just give it.Your life would never remain the same”.
Visibly astounded in the troski, the other passengers burst into uncontrollable laughter. They were amazed I took the wind out of the preacher woman’s sail.hahahahahahaha.
A mild frown wore on her face; she was dumbfounded for a minute. I had bitter-quoted her evening, she might have said to herself.
No one would give her even a coin. She turned and subtly sat back on her seat and lay her head on the seat behind which she sat, the next two bus stops was Okponglo,where she alighted, I am sure prematurely, for I had totally ruined her night.
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