They say he who fetches water
Breaks the pot
So he who goes to sit under Odomankomah’s umbrella
Enjoys the shade under torrential rains
And is able to dodge the scorching sun
But did I fall into an army of hungry ants
Bathed with sugar?
I went to the temple
To listen to the gospel
And saw some Adam’s apples
Dancing on God’s perfected tree
Winking flirtatiously in whispers with the blowing air
To wake the demons asleep in my throat
Agya ei!
If Adam who had direct contact with Nyankopon Twereduampong
Couldn’t resist just one apple in temptation
How could I resist the many
Whose succulence filled the lenses of my eyes
Wherever I turned?
This na church palava!
II
Our elders know best
That is why they asked that sleeping dogs be allowed to lie
Even when new wounds are formed
So who asked them to wake mine
When I had multiple gun shot and arrow wounds?
There were the needy prayers
Whose voices could wake the rotten dead
The lusty preacher
Whose eyes could pierce through a heart millions of miles away
Combing through in selection
And oh
I saw the mutual winks with some apples
And I felt the fallen and ones being hunted to be plucked
What was I to do?
Rome’s rules are meant to be followed
There were the long hands
Waiting for the coffers to taste the dew of darkness
There were the ladder climbers
Combing through hidden CV’s to find their bearing frames
And two leggeds calling with body light
For a pair to pair
So why couldn’t I take a bite of an apple
From a tree which saw to my birth
When doctors say their needles are kept away
When an apple a day is taken?
This na church palava!
III
With these walking noisily in my mind
Why did the preacher pick his words from the scented flowers
Of songs of Solomon?
Where the allure of seduction walked like a beautiful mermaid
Sent by the goddess of twisted love
To harvest ripe and growing tree muds
Whose power bombs are locked away in cages?
Why did they have to open these safes with fire?
Ei!
This na church palava!
IV
Every crown must have thorns
Every clothes must have biting ants
Every pillow must have haunting dreams
Every bed must have piercing thorns
As every right goat and its stinking pate
Chai!
Akuoko!
Here I stand amidst three apples
Now knowing they were harmless fruits
Whose hurt could turn them blood suckers
Which part of my body will first taste a vampire teeth?
Oh! And just after church service!
This na proper church palava!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (a) July 2, 2017
Mum Cee 