She opened her legs

„The perception of life matters is more effective in many people than the naked reality. People have the tendency wanting to be cheated on, only when it affects them negatively, they start complaining,” said Kwame smiling at Kojo.

“What do you mean by that?” was Kojo confused as his eyes were on the half-naked young ladies few meters in front of him. Sitting in a spot at the railway lines close to Circle in Accra City Center, darkness overshadowing the surreal scenery that took place there each night of men hiding in the darkness of the day to find satisfaction with girls offering their bodies for money to feed their small children. The plywood of which the sport was constructed only gave them the illusion of privacy. Around them small kiosks made from very thin layers of plywood were the housing for many families trying to survive in the jungle of a city supposed to be the highlight of a better world, a powerful statement of a country chosen carefully by God to demonstrate his Glory.

Kwame ordered another glass of Palm Wine made by a friend of the Bar Owner in the Northern Region of Ghana, someone that enjoyed eating dogs and cats for his pleasure explaining to his friend: “Red Bull claims to give you wings, a pure lie as I have never seen any consumers of that product flying with wings on their backs. Cocoa-Cola is advertising, with their Cola you can taste the feeling and with their bottle you open happiness, while I myself know that water, too much sugar and brown syrup have no feelings and cannot make someone happy. Marlboro cigarettes want you to believe when smoking their cigarettes, sitting on a horse makes you a free man while in fact we see much lung cancer caused and other health issues.”

“But that is marketing…and everyone…,” his mind was distracted for a second believing having seen a Deputy Minister rushing into the shed made of plywood painted in pink colour behind a prostitute with big behind and boobs. “Sorry…where was I?...Oh yes, all that is pure marketing and everyone knows that, so nothing to worry. They never tell us the truth as they want to sell their products to us and for that matter they use any means possible…come on, it is all about marketing and profit making.”

“True…very true…but it is the truth we live in…the truth we pay for…the truth in the end we never question,” justified Kwame his position. “Look…the Weimar Republic in good old Germany was the most modern Democracy of its time, yet people were not ready for it and when economic hardship came along, it collapsed and was never seen again in this world but leading to World War II.”

“What are you talking about?” was Kojo wondering that had only come to the Spot to have a good time and watch people going about their secret life trying to hid themselves from moral standards.

“You might not understand me now…that is okay…so take your time to think well,” was Kwame emptying his glass seeing that the Deputy Minister had left the house of the Prostitutes again. “That was a quicky…much pressure to lose his sperm,” was he laughing out loud.

“What…sperm loosing? You are confusing me too much today…and you know Palm Wine makes me feel so good,” complained Kojo following the Deputy Minister with his eyes only to see in the distance under a street light a famous Man of God standing observing the place of lust from a secure distance to find the right moment to enter.

“To become rich fast in our society is by becoming an MP or a Man of God standing by the road side with bible and microphone in your hand and a bowl for money in front of you…that is all it takes to drive a Rolls-Royce over time,” was Kojo emptying his third glass of Palm Wine seeing the Man of God secretly disappearing in the house of the young prostitutes. “Look…we are all human beings and sinners…as long as we do not lie over our weaknesses and sins but confess them and try to be better persons all the time…to me this sounds ok.”

“What worries me more these days is, that Men of God in our country are more and more jealous of each other and in fact, use words of hatred to destroy the ministries of other Pastors and Prophets…really, really disgusting.”

“Yes, I have also overserved this terrible behavior in the media where one is talking about the other one in a disgusting manner. In the end it are the people going to church that must be free to judge for themselves whether to attend certain churches and whether or not and in which way to follow any Man of God…but it is not the job of any Pastors to disgrace any other Pastor and to fight him….terrible…how low have we come?” took Kojo a deep breath hearing a child crying of hunger from a nearby kiosk.

“When the church is not united and Pastors fight each other separation of the church is the consequence leading to destruction like it was in the war in Europe during 1618 and 1648 changing the landscape of Europe for ever and dividing the church in many ways,” lectured Kwame while getting ready to leave the spot for a good night rest.

“God will only honour Pastors that do his holy work and not sin against any of his assigned Men of God…,” paused Kojo for a second while observing a man outside the door of the brothel satisfying himself, “then God will promote us as people and Nation to the level he has set before us and set us on the throne he had already build for us when we were formed as people in this country of Ghana.”

Kwame walked with his friend into the night of Accra ending his thoughts by saying: “You mean…we Ghanaians kill ourselves…our own future because of our wrong mind?”

“Look around you and you will see the answer…,” replied Kojo taking a last deep breath.