He is still walking
It was dark; the night had covered the earth. Cold was coming from unknown places. Drizzle overshadowed the Lake. The city of Tiberias was asleep, snoring along. Behind Kibbutz En-Gedi the mountains of the Golan Heights displayed dark black spots, creating goose bumps on anyone that had never been there, spucky.
Two fisher boats had set during the early hours of the night to cast their nets. Not far from each other, in sight of one another, the nets plunged into the salty water that had come done from the Jordan River to this holy site. Whenever possibly, the fisherman observed what was happening on the other boat. They looked over the Lake to see where to find the best catch of the night. Competition for the much-needed resources set fire in their hearts.
The shimmering light of the half-moon reflected on the pure white long dress of the man walking on the water. At first they did not realize that someone was approaching them, their minds were too busy looking out for their catch. Hunger made their stomach grouch and noisy. Families back home were expecting them to come back with lots of fresh fish to fill their bellies.
He kept quiet, did not say a single word. His sharp, lively clear blue eyes watched over them as their busy hands tried to pull in their nets to fill their boats.
“Step out, and come to me,” she said with a clear commanding voice. “One from each boat.”
They stopped in their busy works, turned around and looked into the distance seeing the man walking on water. Fear captured their hearts, confusion set into their souls. Rubbing their eyes, they started to see the figure that came closer and closer with open arms stretched wide.
“It is I…do not fear…step out of your boats and come to me.”
The fishermen on both ships looked at each other and decided who to send. The White Man stepped out first. With confidence his feet touched the slight waves of the Lake. His eyes focused on the White Figure before him, a Man that carried himself with peace and grace.
The Black Men from the other boat left his black comrades behind, touched the water and fell into it. He had never learnt to swim. With fear in his heart he struggled to keep himself above water. Every now and then he had to swallow water. He used his arms like paddles not to drown and disappear in the darkness of the night. Refusing to be left alone sinking in time, his efforts were enormous to survive.
“Ghana Post is offering citizen for a fee of GHC 50 or 100 to display a plug with the GPS number at the walls of their houses, yet in 2013 Ghana was begging the World Bank successfully for USD 3 Million to start its street naming process…what nonsense. I had told you to sell a portion to Foreigners for them to adopt streets and make money out of them.”
The White Man standing confidently on water between the boat of his fellow White Fishermen and the Man in his bright shining dress looked over to the Black Fisherman struggling to keep his head above water crying out loud for help.
“The White Man does not believe in me, his churches are empty with old folks and young teens greedy for confirmation gifts only…while you Black Man, you worship me on Sundays during 4 hours, fast and sacrifice, pray and cry your tears unto my father. At church you sit with your smartphones chatting on social media, hoping your neighbours have seen your nice big car outside standing in front of the church to praise the Lord and yourself for the blessing received.”
“It is true what you say…it is true,” cried the Black Fisherman, lost strength and went under water.
“Komenda Sugar factory is not working; Silos of Dr. Kwame Nkrumah never saw any cocoa beans; banks are an empty structure with no money needed to run trustworthy and successful business; parties during broadcasting time fighting, when the light has gone are best buddies to exploit the Nation…a country my Father had made to be the Ruler of the World. And you… .”
“Yes, it is true…I admit, we have disappointed you and your Father. It is true…it is true. You gave your life for us and we cry and cry about our own weakness day in and day out, blaming anybody else but ourselves.”
He, the Man, gracefully stretched out his hand to the Black Fisherman to save him, but the man was too weak to touch even his finger.
“The White Fisherman here walking on water is the one at this moment of history supposed to be keeping his head above water and cry for me…yet, you messed up your destiny and now…look at yourself…poor mind makes a poor country.”
The Man walking on water looked over his right shoulder; saw Tiberias laying down in peace, the shimmering lights of the street lamps saying. “These people were bringing the desert alive and made it fruitful.” He paused, looked into the skies and continued: „Up there, the ISS is watching out for my Father´s work beyond what your eyes on earth cannot see.”
He turned around and looked at the Black Fisherman that had just come back from going under, struggling to keep him above water still and said:” My Father had given you an old castle with many rooms and everything you need. You put painting of big man in wooden frames nicely carved and gold plated visible on many walls for all to see. In the Big Hall in a dark black oak table the golden key your eyes did not see. This key is the key made for a special hidden door that only you can open and walk through as it is made for the right people only. The Golden Key on the dark oak table in the Big Hall is all it takes that you must see and then take. Only with the right mindset you will be able to see that golden key, open the secret door to the future and your glorious destiny. It is only on YOU, and nobody else, to open up your eyes and see. As long as you cannot see and take the Golden Key, the White Fisherman will always be walking over you and whenever it pleases him, stretch out his hands to you, not because he loves you, as love for you is not in his heart, only to keep the balance between you and him…in his own interest.”
“I cry out to you…please come for my rescue,” the Black Man shouted, took water into his mouth, went down, came up again, and was spitting the water out of his mouth begging: „only you can save me…please I beg of you…save me!”
“Do not call on me…my Father has given you everything, now it is only on you to do the right things Open your eyes and take the Golden Key for the secret door that will make you great and strong…the Ruler of and over the World.”
Disclaimer: "The views/contents expressed in this article are the sole responsibility of Karl-Heinz Heerde and do not neccessarily reflect those of Modern Ghana.