By Fr Joseph Panabang SVD

Bread in Ghana
Linguistically, many Ghanaians find it hard to pronounce the letter R clearly. They pronounce it as letter L. Now, now with just half loaf of bread left on the table for our three visitors, I asked our mission boy to run like a leopard and buy some bread. In a few seconds, he came back grasping and handed me three small boxes or stainless blades. Aghast, I asked, “What are these for?” “You told me to buy blade Father,” he said convincingly. One of the visitors, a Ghanaian lady who perfectly knew of the problem was convulsed with laughter and almost dropped her tea.

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Who’s to be Buried?
I gave a recollection to the members of St. Anthony’s Guild of Kintampo Parish. During the penitential service, I required them to write down on a piece of paper all their sins to be burned during the offertory. After the Mass I told them, “Now in procession, we are going to bury the ashes which symbolizes our old selves.” During the procession, they suddenly burst our chanting their native and real funeral dirges with full emotions; that attracted people passing by and my hair was standing on end four the funeral had become “real” – beyond my instructions. Children came to see who was buried but the leader of the group shooed them away. That evening news spread out that the reconciliation was a success.
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Eyes on His back
Going home one afternoon from the tennis court, some children playfully followed, ran behind, and hung on at the back or my jeep. Twice I stopped the engine to drive them away, but when the jeep started again, all the same, they all flocked and hung on at the back. Annoyed, I got down immediately (to their surprise!) and spanked those who were not fast enough to jump down and run away. An innocent child who had been watching the scene shouted to the rest, Eh Osofo anni wo an kye oh” (Aha, Father has eyes on his back’). They did not know of course I had been watching them all the time through the front and side mirrors.
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To Hook on a Snake
In a thatch-roofed hut that we were using as a chapel, I was trying to hang the wire of a small fluorescent lamp connected to the car battery which we used during the right services. The place was eerily lighted by a single flickering kerosene lamp. I saw something white sticking out from the ceiling and wanted to hang the lamp on it. But every time I tried to hang the lamp, I could not hook it on the “thing”. Three times I failed. Wondering, I looked at it closely (since I was only half looking a while ago); then to my amazement I realized it was a snake sneaking its head and neck out but drawing back every time we wire touched its head. Panic stricken, I ran shouting, “Owuo owuo” (snake! Snake) and shift as a lighting flash, the catechist knocked it on the head and killed it.
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How lucky you are
Looking down on the dead snake, the people were completely silent but eventually with difficulty they revealed to me that the snake was deadly poisonous. “How lucky you are father. God is with you” they could only mumble.
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More Snakes Please!
During the meeting of the church elders on the same night while the snake was still the topic, I asked them, “Did you hear what the snake was telling me? he was talking but you were not able to hear. He was saying that if you do not hasten to build the church you had been proposing for the quite time now, he is going to eat your priest (me).” I went for a home-leave and when I came back a few months later, a concrete church of 25x40ft., the envy of other groups was proudly standing, built by my expert Parish Priest and the people. More snakes please!

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