NO BIBLE NO BREAKFAST DAILY BIBLE REFLECTIONS AND MORE

EPISODE 1

The woes and the dreams of a jobless man are many. I studied Sociology and Economics at the University of Ghana and graduated with a second class upper certificate. I never knew getting access to the world of work was a tug of war after the hopes National service gave me that all was well.  After completing my National service with the Social Welfare department I embarked on a job search and that is where I realised that the world is not as rosy as I thought. I became well acquainted with the phrases “we shall get back to you soon” and “you will hear from us soon”.  I consistently hunted for jobs to the extent that my neighbours thought I had gotten a job since I always stepped out neatly and elegantly dressed in my black suit with tie, well-pressed trousers and shiningly polished pair of shoes.  

Sometimes some of my neighbours will welcome me with warm greetings asking how work was faring. Indeed these sincere concerns left me frustrated since I was not comfortable telling them I was still jobless. On several occasions I was offered jobs that made me feel that I was being taken advantage of, the salary offered was meagre yet the workload was rather huge. I had to turn down such job offers at the end of the day. I was desperately looking for a job that would make me acquire a car and a house within a few years. For God’s sake, I was a graduate of the University of Ghana, the premier University of Ghana. I thought I deserved better.   

I had colleagues of my age who were driving their own cars and managing their own businesses. I sometimes hear some being interviewed on radio programmes and watched some on television talking about their success. I began asking myself these questions; “are my mates better than me?” “What certificate do they possess that I do not have?” “Could it be that someone with mystical powers is controlling my destiny?”  

When I felt bored at home, especially on weekends, I would go while away the time by attending end-of-month high schoolmates hangouts. There are times that I would fake my smile when I see my high schoolmates at our old students’ reunion hangouts. My eyes would scan through the different models of cars parked without anyone of them tagged “Samuel’s Mercedes or Samuel’s BMW”. I had to sometimes leave earlier than expected because I could no longer stomach the repetitious question, “Samuel, what do you do for a living?” Whenever we went to these gatherings, the so-called big boys gather in isolation and their discussions are clouded with the cars they own, the countries they have been to, the kind of houses they are putting up and the number of girls who are interested in them. Well, we the have-nots had our own group where we discuss our predicaments and conclude with a litany of words of consolation.  

My dad was a civil servant in the ministries. He tried his possible best to link me to the job opportunities in their sector but the ‘big men’ always usurped their authority consistently by prioritising their relations. Dad did his best but at the time he had a better chance and hoped that I will be part of the next batch of civil servants to be employed at the ministries, politics showed its ugly head through the change of government. The new government laid an embargo on employment and subsequently reversed the process. When the process was restarted, my file was completely ignored. Indeed I was traumatised and nearly lost my mind. It took the intervention of my mum and her pastor to calm me down. I concluded that life was not worth living anymore. It took me quite some time to get back to my senses and to recover from the shock I had from the recruitment which was tempered with all in the name of politics.  

Christianity was the religion into which I was born and baptised. My dad was a Presbyterian and my mum was a Charismatic. My siblings and I were all baptised in the Presbyterian Church but I in particular was not so consistent in the matters of faith and spirituality. One will usually see me at church on festive occasions.  In other words, New Year’s Day or the first Sunday of the year, Easter, Christmas and 31st watch-night services. Personally, I knew I did not belong to any particular denomination. Usually, on Sundays, I do my laundry, and eat my favourite wakye sold by a Muslim woman in my area popularly known as Hadjia’s wakye.  

Being a T.V. game addict, I saved money out of my National service allowances to buy ‘Play Station 4’ which I played with other T.V. game lovers who are mostly guys in my neighbourhood. We tirelessly play soccer, car race and combat games till late afternoon. Usually, when I felt tired I took my afternoon nap and woke up with excitement to eat my favourite Sunday twilight fufu and light soup with beef or chicken.  When I am done, I recline leisurely in my room to watch the latest movies I had downloaded within the week from other movie addicts like myself. Clearly, there was nothing ‘Christlike’ about my Sundays though I claimed I was a Christian. My dad and mum eventually got tired of telling me to go to church, my mum obviously was not done with her mission to get me to start attending church on a regular basis. She earnestly and continually tried to get me to patronize church programmes. Her homilies were numerous and to avoid it sometimes, I made promises that I was going to follow her the subsequent Sunday, which most of the time was not honoured.  

 I was not just a game lover but a fanatic of soccer and a die-hard fan of the English, Spanish, German and French top soccer leagues. I had a great love for soccer giants like Ronaldo, Messi, Neymar and the like. Mum would try to lure me to evening church programmes but I was already preoccupied with fixtures that will be played live on television. There are times that I would have to go with friends to pay and watch these football matches at DSTV centres. In addition to the addiction, I was no doubt addicted to the gambling associated with the soccer world called ‘soccer bet’. That really took my time and money. I spent a lot of time on my phone grossly engaged in gambling.  Clearly, my ignorance about spiritual and faith matters was grave. For me, everything about life was normal and life ought to be lived and enjoyed so long as one breathes. 

Joblessness and its accompanied frustration had a spillover effect on my mum, being the firstborn of my parents and at the age of 28 years, mum could not fathom the fact that I was still living with them whiles most of her friends’ children who were of my age had relocated, got married and living meaningfully with their families. 

For mum, this was a spiritual issue and needed the intervention of her pastor. My mother was a devoted member of one of the new Charismatic churches called The Redeemer Cares International Gospel Church, RCIGC for short. Being an astute member, she became an elder of the church and was well-known and regarded. Restless about my situation, she booked an appointment with the pastor and overseer of her church so we could go see him for consultation and prayers. I felt my mum was blowing the issue out of proportion; after all, I was not the only jobless graduate in Ghana. All the same, she was my mother and I had to just follow her lead.