Not Another Prophecy

A pretty devastating tale this has been. We knew something wrong would happen the moment Amos agreed to this. Now it’s happened. Let’s see how it ends… “Ummm… Mr. Manford? I want you to know that we’ve done a full evaluation of your injuries, and I’m going to be completely honest with you—because you deserve […]

“Male, late thirties, multiple contusions, blunt force trauma. GCS score is dropping!” “Get him into Trauma Bay Two. Move! I want vitals every two minutes. Let’s go!” “BP’s crashing—78 over 40!” “Start a wide bore IV, bolus him with fluids now!” “Good God Almighty, what the hell happened to this guy?” “We don’t have time

“Umm, Aaron?” Busily buttoning his shirt by the wardrobe mirror as he prepared for another day of work, Aaron turned to glance at Phyllis, who stood near the dresser, fidgeting with the hem of her robe. He raised an eyebrow. “What is it, Phyllis?” She hesitated, then stepped closer. “Please… I just wanted to tell

So I get busy with it, go easy with it Them nuh fit relate Na me sanso me kyiri dede Sɛ me sika delay, I carry machete Then I go on a chase No smile on my face, ɔhunu me, ɔr’shake Awooso oh! Awooso oh! Aaron was in high spirits that morning, cruising through town

Zack’s hotel room smelled of polished wood and money. A large bed sat at the center with crisp white sheets, and soft jazz hummed faintly from a speaker in the ceiling. This was certainly one of the top rooms to find oneself in. Zack had spared no expense to ensure his trip to Ghana was

“Hey! Mantelebroska! Out! Out! Out! Out of her, you foul spirit of the underworld! I rebuke you in the name of the Lord Jesus! Loose your hold over her!” This Wednesday evening midweek service at the small and humble Pentecostal church was something else. The atmosphere was crackling with tension and fire, as a deliverance

“Ah, sweet! Nothing like some cool air to cool me down!” Aaron sighed satisfactorily as he settled onto the living room couch, enjoying the burst of breezy goodness from the air-conditioner. It was midday on a Wednesday, and he wasn’t at work; he had spent the early part of the morning working at home before

The Tuesday morning light filtered into the modest chamber-and-hall apartment, bouncing off the polished tiles and glowing up the rooms within. Amos sat cross-legged on the rug in front of his small coffee table, a cheap laptop before him, humming quietly as he clicked through multiple browser tabs. “Best short-term investments in Ghana,” one tab

The midday sun was high and unrelenting, but joy floated in the air like incense. Agrippa International Church had just concluded its vibrant Sunday service; one of those extended ones filled with dancing, fierce prayers and declarations, and unforgettable worship. Congregants spilled out of the auditorium in clusters, their faces glowing as handshakes were exchanged,

Amos stepped out of the Uber with a proud grin on his face, his arms full of grocery bags. The driver beeped once and pulled off, leaving him standing in front of the rusty gate to his compound with bags from Melcom dangling at his sides. He kicked the gate open with a satisfied swing