All I Have - Myself

...and the bread that I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.
                                                                                                                     John 6: 51b

Last weekend I went home to MC a friend's wedding reception. On the way, the songs I was playing on my phone's headset caused me to be all smiles. I'm sure there were some co-passengers who might be wondering why I kept whistling (softly) the music, why I kept gazing upon the foliage passing by and what might be so 'right' with me that kept me smiling happily.

I always am happy to apply my talents to a brother/sister's good cause. Really, that fulfills me. And I like it.

But I am not all the time happy anytime I visit home. There are certain things I simply cannot ignore no matter how unpleasant they be. And many are those things! And these things take my joy away, many times.

Where my family stays at Jacobu is first on the list. So close to a river that has, over the years, been polluted by our women folk whose business it is to produce cooking oil from palm kernels. That river is their main water supply 'system.' In the rainy season, the area is an eye-sore to stay at. In the dry season, we have some respite. Our environmental happiness depends on the whims of the weather. In any of the seasons, thick smoke from the kernel-mill is a force to reckon with. Fresh air is expensive where I stay.
The house my father could afford to build is only a two-room structure with a make-do kitchen built by my mother to keep her kitchen ware. As they occupy one, the other is forced on me so, once I am home, my folks could feel my presence the way they want it - 'close and together!'
My mother has been raising some cousins of mine (four in number), plus an ever joyful boy who was named after me. Paa Kwesi is his name.
Sharing accommodation with these folks is a daily daunting challenge especially since all of us are handicupped to build yet another space for them.

What does a young man think of such dire reality? I nearly said harsh reality.

Yet never have I been greeted with tears of sadness! Just a day home is enough a hope-builder than all days spent in lecture theatres and libraries!
In the house I am greeted with hope and welcomed with joy. When they see me, they see hope. My mother keeps saying to me, "If God will not grant my desires, I pray him to grant you everything of praise."
My father would say, "I thank God for you. At least you have so far reached everywhere I only dreamt of. But you did all this still sleeping under my roof, no matter how poor it looks."

My cousins try to put up their best behaviour once I am around for their 'big' brother has come home. My name-sake wouldn't want to sleep anywhere but with me on my bed! (And I must wake him several times a night so he won't pee on my sheets). And he calls himself 'Obrempon', after me!

My kinsmen, I do not seek to tell you a tale. I am telling you a life of a man born in a manger but carries the promise of a new world. This is not a story but a life breathed into a man in the land some of us have grown to dread. If I could have hope, regardless how little, amidst such misery, eternity is the limit for any other like me who simply believes his/her life is for a higher purpose than the bad s/he sees.

I remember that day Jesus told his people the quote above, they were outraged that the man could dare say, take my flesh and eat! They should have known better to decipher he really meant behold my life and learn from it. If the boy born in that manger is to grow to become the King of the New World, my goodness!, it isn't too much for God to turn that dusty city on the hill into a jewel on the mountain using you!

Come let us built the city walls for they still lie in ruins. I am ready. And all I have is my flesh which I shall give for the life of the old city. Jacobu, where my home is.