“Father, we thank You for Your mercies that are new every morning,” he declared. “We ask that You go before us in this new week. Order our steps, protect our children, and let Your favour rest upon this home, in the mighty name of Jesus…”

The warm glow of the morning sun filtered through the curtains as the Kwafo family gathered in the living room for their daily devotion. Apostle Bright Kwafo stood in the center, his deep, steady voice carrying authority as he prayed over the new week, with Maame Ama and Manfred and Felicia, their two children, surrounding him and holding hands.

“In the name of Jesus, we decree and declare: no weapon formed against us shall prosper!”

“Amen,” Maame Ama and their two children responded in unison.

“We shall be like a tree planted by streams of water, bearing fruit in every season!”

“Amen!”

“Our going out is blessed, and our coming in is blessed! In the mighty name of Jesus!!”

“Amen!”

After sealing the prayer with thanksgiving, Bright clapped his hands together. “Alright, my dear ones, go grab your bags upstairs. We need to get moving.”

The children, already clad in their school uniforms, hurried off obediently. As soon as they were out of sight, Maame Ama stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Bright from behind, resting her cheek against his back.

“The husband of my youth,” she cooed playfully.

Bright chuckled, shaking his head as he placed a hand over hers. She loved calling him that, and it was always music to his ears.

As he enjoyed the warmth of his wife’s embrace, his eyes drifted to a framed picture on the wall.

A picture of the Kwafo couple on their wedding day, captured in all its joy and splendor. The smiles on their faces reflected the glee that had typified their union for the past eleven years.

“Eleven years,” he mused. “Eleven years of pure bliss. And it only gets better year on year, with a woman that gets even more beautiful and sweet-hearted every passing year.” He turned around, holding her by the waist. “How did I get so lucky? Or should I say, how did I get so blessed to have a queen like you?”

Maame Ama laughed, gently tapping his chest. “It was the will of God oo, Apostle.”

Bright smirked. “Ah, so that’s the secret?”

“That’s the secret,” she confirmed with a teasing wink.

The moment of lighthearted romance softened as Maame Ama sighed and leaned against him.

Bright’s expression then grew serious after a moment. “So are you going ahead with the search for the Nana Akua girl?”

Maame Ama looked up at him and nodded. “Yeah, I’m going to look for her tonight after work. We had a meeting after the whole buzz, and there was some pushback at first, but… I put my foot down on it, so it’s happening. I got some of the guys in outreach to find her place, and they found it, confirmed she’s there, sent the location, so, we’re good to go.”

Bright exhaled, rubbing his beard. “Hmm. I still remember her and the wahala she brought back in the day. Her antics always came up in meetings back in the headquarters. Stubborn girl. Always stirring up trouble and looking for a fight.”

“Hmm, I know oo, Bright,” Maame Ama admitted. “She was a headache. A big one. But yesterday, she looked… different. Not just in appearance. Demeanour as well. Something was off. And she clearly thought she could find solace with us, so… I can’t let her run back to whatever she’s running from.”

Bright studied his wife’s face, noting the concerned determination in her eyes. After a brief pause, he nodded. “I agree. If she came back after all these years, then there’s a reason.” He reached for her hand. “Go ahead and find her, darling.”

A small smile touched Maame Ama’s lips as she squeezed his hand. “I will.”

“That’s my girl. So, are you going alone, or are you taking someone with you?”

“Oh, no, I’m not going alone,” she replied. “Pastor Rose and Dzigbordi are coming with me.”

At the sound of Dzigbordi’s name, Bright smirked knowingly. “Ah, of course! I should have known. I would have been shocked if Dzigbordi wasn’t involved.”

Maame Ama chuckled. Bright never passed up the opportunity to comment on how close his darling wife and her sister-in-law were.

“Like I’ve always said,” Bright continued, setting down his coffee mug, “the way you two do everything together, from dancing agbadza at gospel concerts to after-church visits at that your favorite food joint with the correct fufu, I know for a fact you love her more than Nana Yaw loves her.”

At this, Maame Ama let out a shameless, hearty laugh. “Oh, of course!” she declared. “I definitely love Dzigbordi more than Nana Yaw loves her.”

Bright shook his head, laughing. He knew how brazen she was in admitting that, and it never failed to amuse her. “It’s the way you say it with your full chest that freaks me!” he snickered.

“Oh, but of course! Abi I’ve told Nana Yaw that as for Dzigbor, he married her for me. The way I love her, eh, his love doesn’t reach some!”

“Ebei, Maame!” Bright laughed even louder. “You are looking for a serious family meeting ooo! Ahh, well, whatever comes out of that, that one is not my wahala. As long as my position in your life remains intact, I’m okay.”

She giggled and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Ohhhh, husband of my youth, you know the only one above you is God.”

Bright grinned. “That’s the correct answer.” He lifted her head up and kissed her on the lips just as the children appeared. “Alright, I have to get going. See you later, Maame. I love you.”

“I love you too, Bright. See you later.”

Just as he turned to leave, the children rushed over, each giving Maame Ama a quick hug and a peck on the cheek before scampering after their father. She stood by the door, watching as they got into the car, her heart swelling with warmth.

The beauty of loving and being loved by others. This was what made life worth living.

All the more reason why the search for Nana Akua was necessary. No matter how stubborn and irritating she had been in the past, she needed to be reached out to…

***

It was about 5:45 pm, and the sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the busy streets of Accra as Maame Ama’s black Hyundai Tucson cruised down the Ring Road. The city was buzzing with post-work traffic as one would expect, but inside the car, with Pastor Rose and Dzigbordi present, the atmosphere was calm and cozy.

The radio blared with the sound of a political interview. A crisp, confident voice belonging to the newly appointed Minister of Trade and Industry filled the car.

“I want to assure all Ghanaians that we’re committed to transparency and inclusive economic growth. Our goal is to restore public trust and ensure every Ghanaian feels the impact of our policies.”

Pastor Rose, sitting in the front seat, sighed and shook her head slightly. “Well, let’s hope they actually do what they’re promising. Talk is cheap, but action…”

Dzigbordi, comfortably settled in the back seat, nodded. “Exactly. After the disaster we witnessed with the last government, I just pray this one learns from their mistakes. The way we punished them at the polls should be enough warning.”

“True,” Maame Ama agreed, one hand on the steering wheel, the other adjusting the air conditioning. “God forbid we go through another season of broken promises and mismanagement. We deserve better.”

“And not just the mismanagement,” Dzigbordi added, her tone sharpening. “The gaslighting! The way they made citizens feel stupid for complaining? ‘Things aren’t that bad,’ ‘You’re just being negative,’ meanwhile, people couldn’t even afford basic things.”

Rose winced. “Ah, don’t remind me, Dzigbor, or I’ll get angry all over again. That ‘tighten your belt’ speech from the Finance Minister while they were flying private jets? Herh! I nearly smashed my phone that day when I read it. Such disrespect!”

Maame Ama chuckled dryly. “Hmm. It’s like they forgot they were elected leaders, not royalty.”

As the interview wrapped up and the radio host thanked the minister for his time, Maame Ama reached for the dial and switched stations, settling on a station that had an immediately recognizable song.

There was a time

I truly believed

that I could do it on my own…

“Oooooh, this song!” Dzigbordi squealed from the back seat, sitting up straighter.

Maame Ama smiled, equally as excited to hear this Fred Hammond classic as she turned up the volume. In no time, the three women were singing along, their voices blending beautifully.

I will trust

(Trust in the name of the Lord)

In the name

(Trust in the name of the Lord)

Of the Lord…

By the time the final chorus played, their voices had grown louder and bolder, hands occasionally lifting in worship, even as Maame Ama kept her eyes on the road.

As the song ended, a sweet, peaceful silence settled in the car.

Softly but unmistakably, Rose lifted her hands, eyes closed. “Oh, shabrakato lahiya… Thank You, Lord,” she whispered, the song clearly stirring up her spirit.

Dzigbordi sighed happily. “Ahhh, nothing like a Fred Hammond classic to remind you that, no matter what, God’s got us.”

“Amen,” Maame Ama echoed, glancing at her friends with a knowing smile as they drove on.

Ten minutes on, and the Tucson pulled into a quiet, slightly worn neighborhood off the main road. Maame Ama slowed down as they reached a rusted black gate with peeling white numbers.

She nodded as the car came to a stop. This was the location as sent to her by the outreach boys.

“This is it, my sisters,” she murmured, anticipation rising in her heart. “Here we are.”

A bit of sweet husband-and-wife banter, a bit of sisterly camaraderie, all on the way to helping Nana Akua. Gotta love it, right?