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Letter to my pastor: Why I stopped church service?

Above:The author Maame Broni Broadcast Journalist with Kasapa FM

Praise the Lord, Pastor. How are you and the church? Truly I loved the theme of the Easter Convention – “Salvation” – but pastor I bet if you understood that message.

You might have forgotten about me because of the huge congregation. However, let me hint you. I’m Collins and a 23-year-old from Moseaso in the Manso Nkwanta district of the Ashanti region. I’m from a family of five. Education at the basic level proved worthless to my family because I was perceived as blockheaded.

Yes, I knew I was ‘dumb’.

At age 16, I was done with my carpentry apprenticeship. I could drive too because I served as a ‘trotro’ driver’s mate for a year and leant driving from my ‘master’.

I earned a little and could afford partying and some nice apparels. Smoking and binge drinking was a ritual. It was fun in the village.

In the 2012 electioneering campaign I was 19 years. Evans, a self-acclaimed campaign coordinator for one of the MP aspirants approached me to serve their interest among the youth. I agreed. It was a money-making venture. Little did my friends know that I was promised a job in the capital should ‘our’ candidate emerge the winner. I worked tirelessly with Evans.

Evans trusted me so well that he could leave whopping sums of money in my care. Well I stole from it mostly, I couldn’t be bothered because Evans never cared about the amount before entrusting it in my care. On his return to the capital one day, Evans opted to take me along. We were to spend two days. My excitement knew no bounds.

The village champion was to witness the much talked about capital city. I couldn’t blink the night before.


The night we got to the city, I realized how a ‘villager’ I was, despite my all-knowing champion status back in the trenches. From the neon lights to the gigantic edifices, cars, fashion among others got me static like a statue.

“Wow! Indeed God is a good architect!!!” I murmured.

Evans took me to a Chinese restaurant for dinner and I messed up. The use of cutlery and the dish was a total new experience for the village champion. Finally, we got home and ‘gaddamn’ it. How do I sleep in such a room?

“Bro Evans, you guys are chilling ooo. You didn’t tell me Accra is like heaven,” I said. Evans chuckled and led me to shower. I was totally refreshed afterwards.

Now the trouble.

I could feel some warmth around me late in the night. It was Evans. He cuddled me, caressed my manhood and kissed my neck. I disliked it but because I was extremely cold due to the air-condition, I enjoyed the warmth. I didn’t really know what he was up to but I thought it was part of Accra culture. I became alarmed when he kissed me and promised buying me a car.

“Whaaatttt? A car for me? Massa use me as you want,” a daring me told Evans.

He gave me a hot sex from behind that got me sick the next day. All this while, I was day dreaming on owning a car back at the village. We ended up spending five days in the city and sex with Evans became a routine. We went shopping and I had a whole lot of new outfits and a mobile phone. The biggest experience was when he decided we travel by air. The excitement nearly killed me.

Six years on and I’m a fully blown gay, own a private car, a taxi cab, a barbering shop, a boutique and a washing bay in the capital.

Despite my sinful lifestyle, I never missed church. My contributions to church activities have been enormous. Financially, the church saw me as a cheerful giver little did they know I traded in hard drugs.

Thankfully, all my drug trips were successful because you always blessed my business without knowing what I do. I had a deadly accident on the Accra-Volta Highway on my way to meet Mallam Zabiu for charms ahead of a ‘coke’ trip to the Netherlands. All the five passengers in the vehicle lost their lives except me. While recuperating at the hospital, I could hear a voice telling me he saved me so I should repent.

I came to you pastor after being discharged, told you all about my life and you felt there was the need to use me as a preaching focus. You made known my predicament to the whole auditorium, you prayed for me before all eyes, prophesied and said a whole lot before many. I felt ashamed within. You revealed my past to the world via your television programmes. You totally forgot I was to start a new life and will need people to aid me.

Now I’m being stigmatised. I have been delivered but people see me differently. Families do not want their sons associated with me for fear of influencing them into my past life. I have lost the woman I wanted to marry. I trusted you pastor with my problems and you have betrayed me.

You used me in winning church members while I suffer rejection and dejection.

The worst of it, neither you nor the junior pastors ever visited to check on my Christian life after the supposed deliverance. I doubt if you really know what salvation is about. I am done with your church and others.

I’m better off with my old life because my money gave me power to silence all.

You delivered me but you didn’t save me.


A backsliding folk. AMEN.

Source: Maame Broni | Broadcast Journalist with Kasapa FM

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