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HAS THE AFRICAN A GOD?

The African has been Anglicized, if you like “Westernized”, in the case of the Muslims the African Muslim has been turned “Arabian”, as if the African knows nothing about “a God”. All accounts of creation stories throughout the three thousand three hundred and fifteen ethnic groups in Africa attribute great reverence to a Supreme Creator, being referred to as; “Oboade” and “Oborebore” in Akan, “Olurun” in the Yoruba version of the creation story and  “Dondaari” in the Fulani account of the creation story among others.

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The typical African is drunk with too much religious indoctrination and the unfounded belief that questioning religion is outright blasphemy. Christianity and Islam are the two most populous religions on the African continent. The doctrines of these two religions have been wholly assimilated into the African at the neglect of our very own traditional identity, culture and religion. The African has been Anglicized, if you like “Westernized”, in the case of the Muslims the African Muslim has been turned “Arabian”, as if the African knows nothing about “a God”. All accounts of creation stories throughout the three thousand three hundred and fifteen ethnic groups in Africa attribute great reverence to a Supreme Creator, being referred to as; “Oboade” and “Oborebore” in Akan, “Olurun” in the Yoruba version of the creation story and  “Dondaari” in the Fulani account of the creation story among others.

The Holy Bible, a very formidable tool in the history of the world and the constitution of Christianity refers to Africa in several verses of the Old testament, it is referred to as; Kemet, Libya, Ortega, Ethiopia, Hesperia and Ta-marry. The name “Africa” according to history was given by the Romans, the ancient name of Africa being Akebu-Lan (mother of Mankind). In his book “The Africans who wrote the Bible” Mr. Alex Darkwa writes, “the word Isreal is an Akan word”, he points to the story of Jacob in Genesis 32:24-29, where an angel renames Jacob calling him Asrae or the European version Isreal. According to Darkwa the name “Asrae” is not a nation rather it means “the first one who visited”.  An even more profound revelation is made in the May 9, 1999 edition of the New York Times, Nicholas Wade writes about a Southern African tribe, the Lemba, having not just the same traditions but also the same DNA sequence distinctive of the cohanim, the Jewish priest believed to be descendants of Aaron.

A cursory look at the historic background of the Romans reveal their staunch belief in the multiplicity of gods, they believed in various deities to whom sacrifices were offered, notable among these were Zeus, Mars, Jupiter, Vesta, and Apollo. This belief seems to have been transferred and infused into Christianity, as the Romans played a very crucial role in the spread of Christianity, despite their belief that the Almighty God is One, they still maintain that HE is three-a Father, a Holy Spirit and a Son. It is not strange to think so especially if you are well endowed with their historic background. These supposed deities who were believed to be gods, had affairs with some humans and gave birth to demi-gods, little wonder the Roman Catholic Church holds fast to the belief that Almighty God has a human mother, “holy Mary mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death”. All these have been swallowed hook, line and sinker by the African and are warned that any attempt question religion is blasphemous.

The religion of Islam entered Africa through the North of the continent. With similar emotive characteristics, Islam admonishes Muslims to assimilate the Mohammedan culture wholly. As part of the indoctrination one has to adopt an Arabic name which is considered Islamic, so it not strange to hear names like Abdul-Rahim Kwame Adjei that is like having “Kwaku Ayigbe Frafra” for a name, very weird, yet that is the veracity of the situation at hand. Islamic religion in Ghana has been laced with Hausa culture, as if it was through Hausa traders that Islam reached the country. Today, naming and marriage ceremonies in a typical Islamic community are nothing Ghanaian but a gross exhibition of a complete alien tradition not even reminiscent of the provisions of the Islamic doctrine. One is even advised not to ask too many disputed questions in religious matters as it weakens one’s faith (Sahih Al-Buhkari volume2, book24 number 555), and any other form of worship apart from Islam will suffer the pangs of Jahanam on the day of Recompense (may Allah guide us all on the right part). The form which religion in today’s world has taken is highly reminiscent of the infamous “French Policy of Assimilation”

As Africans, even before John-Wycliffe took the initiative to translate the Bible, and Sayyiddina Abu-Bakr could call for compilation of the Quran, our ancestry were well endowed with what is today Biblical and Quranic laws. Among foods, our ancestry was selective of holistic foods preferring lawful to unlawful ones. There were well established Political Systems that instilled discipline, a great sense of nationalism and brotherliness in the African. The African also had an even accurate system for calculating dates, times and seasons. Our African tradition posits that every woman is a mother to every child, the upbringing of a child within a community is the essential responsibility of every member of the community and not restricted to one’s immediate family.

Contrary to what the world has been made to believe, the African has a God. In communicating with our God we offer wine, alas! The world’s religions condemn intake of wine and pouring of libation but the first miracle Jesus Christ the Messiah performed was turning water into wine. It has been said time and again that the Messiah is not as white as been portrayed rather he was black as an African, and that points out the mystery of the “Black Madonna”.

I harbor a strong conviction that if legends like the great Okomfo Anokye had appeared somewhere in the East or West round the same time, his name would have  being in the Bible or even the Quran or Hadith or better still a Saint, and special prayers will be offered to him on special dates. Okomfo Anokye performed many miracles; he walked in the air, planted a palm-tree, watered it and watched it grow that very minute, he planted a sword into the earth which has not been removed till date and even brought down the Golden Stool. “Who sent down the Golden Stool?”

Another great legend worthy of Prophet-hood is Togbe Tsali, he was tied to boulders and drowned, he resurrected on the third day riding in the back of crocodile, is that not miracle enough? Or How should that be classified; Voodoo, Black magic or Miracle?

Agya Ahor, another great gem. Just as the Christ, Agya Ahor sacrificed himself for the love of his people.

The African traditional religion which has over the decades been described as pagan and un-Godly proves otherwise, the ecclesiastic Roman named the various months of the year and days of the week after their pagan idols and gods, like “Sunday” the day reserved for the worship of the “sun god” and “March” being named after the roman god “Mars”, the planet Jupiter is clearly named after the Roman idol.

Unlike the pagan roman African festive celebrations show signs of Biblical and ancient historic tradition, the Creator, according to the book of Exodus appeared to Moses in the form of fire, the Bible also reads in the book of Hebrews chapter 12:29 “for our God is a consuming fire” so it is ecclesiastical if the Dagomba ethnic group celebrates the “Bugum Chugu”-fire festival,   “Cleanliness they say is godliness”, Adae is an Akan festival of Cleanliness.

So in earnest, Has the African a God?

Writer: Godwin Abanga (Student journalist)

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Politics

ADAGA OO! ADAGA!!!

When on my bike on bright days like this, just don’t cross my path, lest I run you down.

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Adaga
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The sun was meters past the horizon as the day was still toddling but showed good signs of being a very sunny one. A long winding queue snaked its way from the waakye seller’s joint to the edge of the street. The Koko seller across the street had also been swallowed by the crowd of school children that had circled her, screaming on top of their voices to get her attention.

I hated to join long winding queues just to buy a widow’s mite worth of food. Gliding on the back of my not-too-new bicycle, I made a quick U-turn and headed for “makpor” the beans seller’s end. The path leading to the “makpor” was a steep one and required a great deal of experience and a touch of perfect riding skills like mine to go unharmed.

Dexterously using my weight to bring the bike to the middle lane of the busy street, I zoomed past two “trotros” (commercial buses), which were moving at tortoise pace. The wind tore at my ears as I sped on and I loved the flapping sound its impact made in my ears.

When on my bike on bright days like this, just don’t cross my path, lest I run you down.

I was soon at “makpor” and thank goodness, the usual crowd there was absent. I decided to make a quick U-turn and come to perform the “sacred ritual” in the holy sanctuary- “Makpor”

Gracefully, I brought the right paddle to accelerating position, at the same time swinging the steering and adding my weight, the style was called “Cee”, it usually turned the bike 180 degrees and would leave the screeching marks of the rear tyre on the bare floor almost like the letter “C”

The rear tyre spun so fast I lost control and was thrown out of the bike. I found myself sprawled awkwardly on the floor.

A group of children who had witnessed the mighty “humpty-dumpty” fall wouldn’t stifle their laughter. Baring their teeth, they screamed laughter out of the bellies.

Wanting to show them my worth and dexterity with the bicycle I jumped onto the bike again. Holding the steer firmly I paddled swiftly and exerted lifting force to the steer and soon the front tire was up in the air-“Adagga” I maintained the posture for about 7seconds, still trying to impress my little audience, I dropped the front tire and repeated the process, this time I lifted it even higher than before.

The force was too much and the back tyre skidded off and down I went again. I hit my head hard against the bare tarred floor and everything spun before my eyes.

There was an explosive barrage of laughter louder than the June 3 thunder clapping. I lay there wishing I could just disappear into thin air or just sink into the dusty earth.

I lay there with my eyes closed for a very long time and all I could hear was continuous explosive laughter and rhetorical questions.

And that is how come I earned my infamous nickname, “Adaga”

By:  Edwin Abanga

Contact:    [email protected]

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Politics

Africa Cry – Quata dares African leaders to act in Libya slavery.

This has informed the release of “Africa Cry”, a song that details the canker of slavery currently booming in Libya. The slave markets in Libya are selling Black Africans for as low as $400.

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2017 has been a good year for Quata Budukusu, the magnum opus nature of his numerous releases attests to only one thing – SUPREMACY.  Even though his relevance in the game continues to be a matter of controversy, his talent and skill cannot be debated. Having been around since 2004 as a rapper, Quata has perfected his art by dabbling in numerous genres often with a finesse that can only come from a dedication to duty. His forte still remains rap, though he jumps on any genre and owns it.

On the subject of duty, Quata believes music can be used in several ways, from entertainment to education. This has informed the release of “Africa Cry”, a song that details the canker of slavery currently booming in Libya. The slave markets in Libya are selling Black Africans for as low as $400. A situation described by the UN Security Council as “heinous abuses of human rights.”

The situation has been condemned by many, and as a rapper with a conscience it is only proper Quata adds his voice.

The emotion-laden song brings to the fore issues of rape & torture, racism, intra-racial crimes, classism, and the seeming silence of African leaders when ordinary Africans are served anguish in foreign lands as slaves. The “animosity” is “unimaginable”, he says, but the reactions of the West in such situations clearly expose the weakness of African leaders.

Quata is undoubtedly one of the most prolific lyricists of our time. His upcoming 25-track album from a single riddim will definitely send tails wagging. An objective media is the only way major talents like Quata will get their due, until then the talent won’t rest. Will it match the ingenuity employed in the 13-Track “Quantum Riddim”?

2018 is will surely be a magical musical year.

Check out other songs by Quata.

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Politics

NECESSARY EVIL

I grabbed the single bar that run above my head firmly with my right hand as the bus snailed its way through the long winding traffic. 

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Globules of sweat streamed down my face as I stood sandwiched between several other passengers who had missed the opportunity to catch a seat and had resorted to standing in the full to capacity “Kuffuor bus”

I grabbed the single bar that run above my head firmly with my right hand as the bus snailed its way through the long winding traffic.  Very few buses plied the route especially during the “rush hour” so the few that passed got flooded with passengers.

Times have changed, in the past, younger folks who had secured seats would readily offer their seats to older passengers, not to mention a neatly dressed smart looking young man, handsomely adorned in a perfectly pressed crispy white shirt that could easily mirror the reflection of ones face.

The pair of black trousers I wore to match my perfect white shirt was “on point”, I had also not forgotten to cement my good looks with a tinge of Alvin Dior perfume.  The only absent thing here was a smile. I was beaming with smiles earlier, knowing how essential it was for my personality, but the light of smiles was taken away the moment the bus moved and people begun to rub their body against mine. I feared for the fate of my shirt.

I fetched a handkerchief from my pocket to rub the beads of sweat that had gathered across my forehead.

Then suddenly there was a queer rumble in my stomach, I doubted its potency and overlooked it, but the next two rumbles put me on red alert.

I squeezed my butt tighter to contain “the evil”, it appeared to be a fruitless fight but I dare not give up. I had tried for long and I had reached my breaking so I decided to allow it out at least in bits.

I positioned myself strategically, putting one foot ahead of the other. Looking away, I released my grasp and allowed it to descend gracefully. It felt hot and highly flammable as it passed. I knew I had made an evil decision but it was very necessary considering the situation.

In the next few seconds “my evil” had diffused into the bus, and people had begun reacting to it, shaking their head in disapproval, and covering their noses. I pulled out a white handkerchief from my breast pocket and covered my nose with it just not to draw suspicion to myself, at the same time listening to the many curses that were being rained on the evil one who had done that.

Silently in my thoughts, I pondered, “Not all wrongs are evil, some are necessary evils”

By:Edwin Abanga

Email: [email protected]

Facebook: Edwin Abanga

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