The Gospel in Oyibi Forest is Free of Opium

One of my favourite preachers is Rev John Francis of the Roach Ministry in London. Like the Archbishop Duncan-Williams, he is the Papa of his church, and he is a bit of a firebrand, too. Incidentally, the two men of God have a lot of admiration for each other. I had the honour of sitting under the charismatic ministration of both preachers in London. One thing about Duncan-Williams is that he is quite a Teresais who appears to see into the seeds of time, while Francis applies some scholarship to the preaching of the word. These two have been a great source of education and edification for my troubled soul.

In one of John Francis's sermons, he admonished: “It is the private consecration of a man's life that reveals the public manifestation of the anointing of God on his life.” He repeated it for emphasis, and the London congregation was wowed by the truism in the proclamation, and perhaps also by the aphoristic rendition of the statement. People need answers to their problems in these troubled times. When you are hard pressed on every side, and almost hunted down by the many sins and perversions of our times, it is necessary to consecrate yourself or escape the heat altogether for a sacred place.

The people of the United States still wonder how Rev Jim Jones managed to convince a near thousand members of his congregation to move from their comfortable homes in the Redwood Valley of California, to the forest settlement in the South American country of Guyana. It was in Jonestown (as they called the settlement) that the first US congressman died in the line of duty. In addition to Congressman Leo Ryan, who was shot by Jones's men at the Guyana airport, 918 members of the Jonestown ministry were poisoned to death on the pastor's instructions. Until September 11 2001, the Jonestown massacre remained the single most deadly unnatural disaster in the US.

Like Jim Jones, the new religious movement in the Oyibi forest has the vision of a communist community free of the opium of the masses in cosmopolitan Accra. Testing the limits of freedom of religion and association, the People's Word Church, (one of their many names) has sought refuge in a place removed from the corruption and heat in Ghana, where they could commune with God and live in peace. They have their own school in the forest, manned by a former educationist who is also a member of the movement. Some of them had left their jobs in the city and relocated to the forest. The only student in one of the classes told the media that he enjoyed being the only pupil in his class. He was particularly relieved that there were no other pupils around him to get him into trouble.

True, Accra is full of trouble. Sometimes you wonder whether we import sin in addition to the many goods and services we are used to importing into our country. Take a drive through parts of Cantonments in the night, and around other popular places known to our sisters of the night, and you may see reason in joining the Oyibi movement. Sometimes they come very early for business, as early as 7.pm, all polished and manicured from the crowns of their long hair extensions to the soles of their high heels, ready to titillate the libidos of men for short time and all night fun. They would flag you down, smile heartily and up their bosoms–in defiance to the heavens. They don't care whether you are bald or sakora; we have all fallen short of the glory of God. You would not see this in the Oyibi forest, where dress codes for women are strictly monitored.

Or try parking your car in the customer parking lot of a restaurant or commercial service, and you must necessarily part with a few Ghana cedis to the young man who directed you to reverse your car to join the main traffic. You might think once you strike some acquaintance with the traffic guy, you would be excused next time, but that opens the floodgates for bigger and unusual requests. You will not see this in the Oyibi forest. There doesn't seem to be sanity and order in the city, and everybody is too busy to say anything about the rapacious abuse of the virtues our forefathers so jealously guarded.

The stories we hear are too terrible to comprehend. From the young footballer who brought his own mother from the village to Accra, to be killed for money rituals, to cops who have joined armed robbery gangs, dispossessing Ghanaians of their possessions, you might think the name Accra is a euphemism for greed and sin. You can't even trust your own driver who lives in your household and eats your wife's meals. He would arrange with thieves to plunder in a day all that you have labored for in three decades. Yet, the pews are full on Sundays. What opium do they feed us on these days?

In a certain utopian sense, there is a part of us that wish to be part of the Oyibi movement. Like romantic poets, when the vicissitudes of daily living overwhelm us, we dream of a serene and ideal location close to the innocence of nature. The danger, though, is that while poets escape on the wings of poetry and creative imagination, the Oyibi church is escaping normality on the wings of religion. A few meters away from the forest, the troubles they are running away from awaits them. How long would they live in denial in the face a biting reality?

We are not sure how much influence their pastor has over the congregation in the forest. Jim Jones had armed bodyguards who prevented aggrieved members of the congregation from leaving Jonestown, where living conditions were reported to be bad. But mark the coincidence in the communist character of the names of the two churches. Jones called the church he founded in 1956 the People's Temple. The Oyibi movement is known as The People's Word. They may not pose an immediate danger, but must we wait for what happened in Guyana to happen in Ghana? The best consecration is when you are able to live in this world, but careful enough not to live of the world.

Kwesi Tawiah-Benjamin
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