The Experience and Testimony

After a long tiring day in the chaos that is Accra Market, I troop longingly seeking respite in the somewhat comfortable seat on any Ayalolo bus.  I look to my left and see ensuing verbal sparring between a copper and a troski driver. “So not my problem”,  I intoned. My trusty steed in the form of a comfortable fugazi version of a Balenciaga carries me as I will it, into this human contraption filled with tales of glee, remorse and everything in between, etched profoundly on tired faces.
“Man, I can’t keep talking about this same issue with almost everybody, can I?”, said under the anonymity provided by my face mask. Thank you pandemic! A not so random thought.

Hands rummage through the hand-me-down bag from the old-timer, checking to be sure the keys to home are there. A repetition of last time’s stress I aim to avoid altogether. Getting into that one time will have me splitting hairs for the entire trip back home.
Fingers make a bell-like contact with the keys, an indication that they are where they ought to be.
A huge sigh of relief escapes from my lips imprisoned in the harness that is a face mask.
Curse you pandemic!  “Can we ever go back to normalcy or any semblance of what it was?”, I ask myself.
I make eye contact with a stereotypical middle-aged woman who happens to be today’s travel companion for the journey back home. “Not another one of those talkative aunties”, said dejectedly.

I think I catch a greeting from her lips. “How? You may ask”. She has her mask worn wrongly. I am unable to respond courteously. However, with arched eyebrows replacing a voiced response, I seal the exchange of pleasantries perfunctorily. It does not overly bother me- my inability to perform the appropriate form of greeting the situation demanded.
Clearly, we’ve both had a long day as she hits her seat with a loud thumping sound. It does nothing to break the reverie I have managed to muster for myself.
She says something along the lines of
“Ugh! I’m tired, Jesus! Why is this onboarding taking so long?” but in a highly accentuated tone of the lingua franca in Accra. I am not bemused. It is of course the chiefly used language in the nation’s capital. I also shared her sentiments concerning the delay in our departure.

In the instant I hear the thud from her seating, I glance to my left through the window.
“Everybody loves the window seat, don’t they?”, I say to myself.
Just like the book of Psalms dramatizes seeing, I beheld a sight that nary loses its appeal no matter the number of times it does appear- The Setting Sun.

The setting sun, crimson-like in appearance, effulging all of its redness.
A strong aura of calm accompanies its scarlet radiance.
Again, I tell myself “This is nice”.
My eyes have stayed on this wonder and my mind does wander.
Many have written about this beauty in books and I have been gracious enough to see and read about its accounts.
It has been described ominously as a harbinger of a bloodbath bound to occur in some far off corner of the world at a point in time. My appreciation ebbed not in light of this revelation.
Several cultures have experienced it on auspicious days and intimated it to the quelling of a troubled soul.
I have found relevance in the soothing it wrought.
Others like myself, have attributed it to yet another masterpiece on the canvas of the greatest artist to ever be; God. The affirmation of my truth and unwavering belief in his existence waxes greatly.

As a man of science and the Spirit, I have always found it somewhat unsettling yet reaffirming that I am able to obtain and accept easily the prominence of a spiritual occurrence or meaning to particular incidents that require interpretation from man and his science. Nevertheless, I take it in my stride as commonplace. It takes me back to the teachings of my faith.

The ‘why’ is simple.  I believe firstly that life in itself is spiritual before it is perceived by the senses of man. So regardless of how poignantly logical an event is when assessed by the instruments of man, there will always be a reference point (i like to call ‘its spiritual compass’) in the plane beyond the perception and purview of man.

This brings me to the real story in that moment of wonder-gazing at the red-lit sun.

There’s now a disruption in what feels like a stargazing experience for me as I sensed that we’ve finally commenced the journey. We moved a short distance and I found my eyes trying hard to steal one last glance over these nondescript and inanimate buildings serving as obstacles to the beautiful picturesque view that started everything.

In this moment, something extremely otherworldly and borderline spiritual transpires as I close my eyes.