Father Joeker

By Fr Joseph Panabang SVD

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.

Tuloy ka Muna
Here in Ghana while eating, when another person is passing by and without really expecting her/him to come, you simply say “Bra me didi” (come you are invited) and he would respond: “Oh thank you; go on.” Knowing it as part of their culture, I also do it. while taking my meal in Kwabea village, some children who were familiar to me passed by. “Bra me didi”, I said and to my horror all of them rushed in. in the midst of laughter, I was forced to share my food with them which they enjoyed apparently innocent of their own culture yet.

Fair Exchange
They call it Mueller Falls. It is just on the road to my villages. Washing my car one midday, a cow girl who brought he herd of cattle to the river was just fascinated looking at me with sharp curious eyes. I did not like being watched meticulously and tried to shoo her away but to no avail. Turning to my catechist, I asked him what would be the most polite way to get her to leave. He told me to asked for one of her lovely cows. So, I asked he “small girl, please give one of your cows in exchange  for my car. In giffy, after the catechist translated, she vanished out of the scene, sweetly smiling. If you asked from you what is most important to you, will you also go away?

Don’t East just smell
At the close of our Annual Catechists’ Recollection, complaints were made that the goat was too small and was not even enough for lunch for about fifty people. Quite peeved, I remarked: I did not intend you to eat it. I just  wanted you to smell it.”

Burnt Offering
Not far from our house is an old colonial building with a wall wide enough to play pilota. I used it o practice my strokes. One practice session, all my tennis balls got stuck on the ledge of that roof. Moving my car under it to reach out for the balls, I was still an arms length too short. In Twi (local language) I told the small boy looking up from the ground, “ko fa ogya, mepa kyew” go and get wood please). He ran to the nearby house and came back with burning charcoals which in Twi are also called “ogya”. He had a good laugh with me as I told  him, “Its not yet time to burn the house. What I need is a stick to get the balls out.”

Misyon Accomplished
On their way to the North, two Holy Spirit Sisters stopped at Kintampo, my parish. One of them, from Indonesia, saw a ripe papaya in our garden. Joining her, we plucked it and I was trying to get another one from a different papaya plant wit ha stick for it was quite high. Insisting that she was taller than me, she jumped and said, “Father, let me do it for I am taller that you.” Stepping aside in humility, I gave he the stick and watched with utmost curiosity. Up she stretched he hands and raised the stick but it was till a foot short and begun to laugh). “Spare me she said” you might place me in the Misyon.” You have said it my dear Sister.