At Kwabea Village, we were just starting the Mass when the Church president came in looking proud in his new stripped pajamas. For him, there is no difference between pajamas and ordinary pants. And, why should there be? Afterall, pajamas have always been daytime wear to both women and men in the Middle East. It was the westerners who adapted it for night wear. Maybe they smile when we go to bed in daytime clothes.
By: Fr. Joseph Panabang, SVD
Rev. Fr. Joseph Panabang, SVD St. Joseph’s Catholic Church Kintampo Brong Afaho Region Ghana, West Africa.
Savagery
Connecting Northern Ghana to the South is the famous Buipe Bridge over the Black Volta River that flows into Akasombo Dam, the world’s longest man-made lake. At the height of last year’s tribal war, mainly between the Gonja and Konkomba tribes, the bridge became a monument to the worst of human savagery. People both children and adults were mercilessly killed and thrown like dead rats into the river. Pregnant women were sliced like cakes and their fetuses forked out and hurled into the river. Infants, if they were male were plucked from the back of innocent nursing mothers and flung into the swirling river; thousands drowned. Whole villages were burned. Finally the government announced that the fight between Konkombas and Gonjas was over, that peace in the North was restored.
Both Write or Wrong
At the Northern Region of Ghana is a town called Tamale. Two Filipinos from Accra came up for a visit to Kintampo and were telling us how they saw a sign – board, “To Tamale”. How is it possible Father, tama nga at male pa?” correct yet wrong), they inquired. I replied, “maybe it is like a poet saying, ‘honey, your are near yet too far”.
Headless Magkal
I do not know the name of this snake but it was big it is about three feet long. But I do know it is a delicacy to some people here including my catechist. I tried one evening to run over one with my double cabin pick – up car but missed four times. Angry, I brought out my bolo and cut its head all at once. Then I lifted the switching body the switching body into the back of the pick – up. Immediately the body started coiling and uncoiling itself at the back of the car. Not far away from the killing zone, a farmer looking tired and weary was begging passionately for a lift. I stopped, signaled the man to jump quickly into the back car. Already I started to laugh anticipating his meeting with the moon-drenched headless snake still rolling over and over as if looking for its head, at the nearest village, I got out intending to give the snake to my catechist and interested at the same time to find out my passenger’s reaction. Oh, the man was not there anymore.
Cry of Balintawak
When I came from home-leave, I brought along a native bolo that miraculously passed all the airport check-ups. Asked what it is I replied, “It’s the Cry of Balintawak” (for it resembles the one Andres Bonifacio was raising.)
Oops: The Transmission
To facilitate the animation of twenty Christian Communities, I divided them into three zones. One zone is accessible by car only during the dry season. The bush road is too much even for James Bond driver, so to avoid going back and forth, I do a live-in visit: I stay in the village for a week or so and come home only to refuel and then go back again. Last January, I started out. In the middle of the hilly road, I managed to dodge all stones and to the obstacles; this impressed my companions very much. Then came the sandy road. “At last!” I told myself and relaxed not knowing that beneath the sands was buried the remains of a big tree. As I hit it, the engine died out. “Here we go again, I thought.” As I looked at the condemned transmission, I felt sick in the pit of my stomach. The following day, observing me so crestfallen, my church helper simply said, “Well, as our elders say, Man proposes and God disposes.” Believe it or not, I got back my courage and thanks to the inventor of the four-wheel drive. I managed to tow the car back to base.
Nights Becomes Day
When electricity commenced at Kintampo there was wild excitement everywhere. It was as if every problem was solved. Then came the noise from blaring radios. Within a short time, Kintampo looked like a city with all the vices associated with city life. people from the villages, looking for greener pasture, migrated to Kintampo. One of them was Isaac Opoku, my church helper. When I met him in his village, I asked him: “How did you leave Kintampo?” then he answered “Father, I could not sleep.” I asked “why” “There is too much light,” came is sad reply.
Incorrigible cat
“You fool! Stupid! Get out! Just because you don’t know how to read, you scatter all my books around?” on hearing my outburst our cook was frightened; thinking I was fighting with somebody he rushed into the room, “What happened Father?” “Oh, it’s just our cat who always wants to sleep on my study table knocking all my books onto the floor.” The cook went back to the kitchen shaking his head.
Twin Salmon
I took the wife of our Church President back to the village from the maternity clinic. She gave birth to twins. At the village the people came running to welcome us. I raised my hands and gestured they are twins. Then i got out, took the two big Salmon fish I had brought for the new mother, raised them up to the people and said; “here they are”. All of them stopped aghast, and then they burst out laughing. Even the mother has to wait for the laughter to fade away before getting out of the car.
Authentic Dreams have a Message
I think dreams if really authentic carry in them divine message. There was a time last year when the going got tough and the sailing rough, quite too much for me. Inside I was in trouble. Call it mid-life crisis or what, but I was determined to return to the Philippines. Then, early that morning I felt half awake when suddenly my door opened and lo my father who died long ago dashed in and immediately asked for pen and paper. “Why do you need a pen and a paper?” I demanded. He said: “I want to apply as assistant priest here”.
