Wednesday, 16 December 2015
Saturday, 17 October 2015
Sometime in early August, I was called back to the office in the middle of conducting monitoring visits. Reason - I'd been selected to undergo first aid training at the West African Rescue Association. I liked the idea and I must say I enjoyed the training. I came back feeling ready to save any life especially through CPR.
A little over two hours ago, on my way back from the same monitoring visits I'd been recalled from, somewhere before Nkonya in the Volta Region, there was this gentleman dressed in Electricity Company of Ghana overalls by the side of the road. He was furiously flagging down our car. We stopped. He was standing by an ECG truck. He managed to tell us that two of his colleagues had been electrocuted and will need assistance in being conveyed to the hospital. The fact that their own company had turned the power on while they were working is worth mentioning.
I was scared. As he went to bring them, we began to make room in the car. I was seated alone behind. I was getting more scared. I kept wondering if I was going to end up having to be in such close proximity with someone who's probably already dead. I however knew there was no way we could drive away because of fear. Earlier in the trip, we'd been stopped by a man who wanted a lift as part of his journey to Hohoe. We told him we were on official assignment and so couldn't offer him a ride. I felt so terrible as we drove off, but there was not much I could do about that.
This situation was however different. It'll take the devil himself to drive away from such a situation with the excuse of being on official assignment.
The first of the victims was responsive as I could tell he was aware of his surroundings. The second, was unresponsive. As the guy struggled to get the second unresponsive victim into our car, I knew his chances of making it alive to the hospital were dwindling. I asked him to put the guy down on the ground and I jumped out to start giving chest compressions. I hadn't even thought about the fact that I'd have to give mouth to mouth resuscitation to someone I didn't know. By the time I was nearing 30 compressions, another gentleman was by my side whom I think was part of the ECG team. I instructed him on how to do the mouth to mouth which he did. I continued with the compressions but I was getting scared and I felt my compressions were not strong enough although I noticed a little responsiveness as the compressions went on. I showed my boss how to do it and handed over to him as I reached for my first aid handbook from my bag, flipping through to see if there was any other thing I should be doing.
By this point, I was a bit in shock myself at this unexpected situation. I flipped through so many times but couldn't figure out what I was looking for.
I rushed back to continue CPR when I noticed he'd been left unattended for a second. I was praying, compressing, giving instructions and confused all at once! An empty taxi turned up by this time and the people who'd turned up at the scene all felt we should be transporting him to the hospital. I asked if they were sure he was breathing and the guy giving the mouth to mouth was certain of that. I, because of fear didn't want to to look too closely at the one I was trying to save. I didn't want to find out if he was dead or alive. I felt the best option was to go on with the CPR until he came around fully but I also wanted him to be with the experts within the shortest possible time as I knew there was nothing like an ambulance going to turn up with paramedics. I advised the men to continue attempting CPR in the taxi though it wouldn't be as effective. They sped off to the hospital and we continued our journey.
The first victim had already been sent to the hospital while we were attending to the second.
When we got to a filling station to top up, a taxi driver approached to ask "what happened to the other guy?"
Apparently, he was the one who transported the first victim.
I kept praying for this guy through the journey till I was confident God had heard and would answer.
I didn't take anybody's contact because I didn't want to hear bad news.... I must confess. I would rather work on the assumption that he made it than face the opposite fact.
We'd planned to set off on our journey at 6am, we ended up leaving around 6:30am. We made an unplanned stop over in one of our intervention communities as well. I've been asking myself if it was all part of a divine plan for us to be at that spot at the time we were because one minute could have made a difference in us missing the guy who flagged us down.
After this experience, I came out with three resolves:
1. I'm going to make sure my company gets an AED as part of our first aid kit. I'll also look into getting one for personal first aid use.
2. I'm going to work on keeping fit so I wouldn't need a stronger person to assist me if I have to do CPR
3. I'm going to advice all I know to learn the basics of first aid
This experience has shown me how fickle this life is. One minute, you're here going about life. The next, you're treading that thin line between life and death...... Another reminder to live each day as if it were my last. Another reminder that this life I live here is just the dress rehearsal for the real deal - ETERNITY. The big question is, are you reading this, ready for eternity?
Tuesday, 15 September 2015
So I was just listening (yes, listening) to the book of Acts as I worked (multitasking is my thing ;P ) Acts 12 caught my attention. That's the chapter where King Herod Agrippa began to persecute believers in Christ....So our very own Peter was caught and thrown in prison...
Acts 12:5 says "But while Peter was in prison, the church prayed very earnestly for him."
I am certain they were praying for his release...
Now, let's jump to verse 15...
What was the reaction of the people who were earnestly praying for Peter's release when Rhoda opened the door, saw Peter, closed it in his face and excitedly ran back to tell the church that their prayer had been answered?
"You're out of your mind!"
They concluded she was crazy.
Now, Rhoda knew what she'd seen and she wasn't going to be convinced that she was crazy (some people can make you doubt what you know to be true and I believe the church could have easily had some of us...)
Anyways, so Rhoda wasn't going to have her mind toyed with so she insisted. And what was the church's reaction to her insistence?
Rhoda was no longer out of her mind. They now believed...but,
"It must be his [Peter's] angel"
Now, I don't know if that meant they assumed Peter dead and had taken the form of an angel...All I know is, they were certain it was not Peter in the human form standing at the door....and this is what got me.
How many times have I not been like the church which was earnestly praying for Peter?
How many times have I not earnestly prayed to God on a subject, have Him answer me and then express profound surprise at the result I'd been praying for? It's not as if I do not have the faith required to see my prayer answered.
It is more like surprise at having God answer a faith based prayer. Sometimes, it's got to do with the speed with which God answers. Other times, it's as if I was just praying out of duty and was not expecting God to answer (which is is not the case) in the way in which He did answer.
Anyways, got to go back to work.
Just some running commentary on what was going through my ears :) ... and a good way to update my blog :)
Wednesday, 15 July 2015
I know it was quite an abrupt end but don't forget I was working within a word limit...It's up to me now to carry it forward...I pray the time to do this avails itself soon. Till then, enjoy the read :)
It had been two weeks since Akwesi’s room. I’d been avoiding him since then primarily because of what the Prophet said on the last day of his prescribed fast.
“The Lord didn’t reveal the meaning of the vision, but He told me something more in addition.”
I held my breath in anticipation and saw Mama’s eyes grow wider.
“He told me that the seed has already been planted in the physical.”
My heart dropped into the very pit of my stomach, from out of nowhere, the meaning of the Prophet’s vision stood out to me. I swallowed, kept my composure and mentally scolded myself,
“Stop the presumptions, Anima!”
“Man of God, what does this mean?”
I wondered if Mama had not heard what he’d said about God not revealing the meaning to him.
“Mrs Anim, if you really want me to work at getting the full revelation, I’ll strongly advise you to sign on to the 21 days assisted fast for divine revelation. It is free. But you’ll be required to sow a 500 cedis free will offering into the ministry when the revelation comes.”
“Alright Prophet, I’ll find the money and come back soon.”
On the way back home, I was torn between telling Mama my understanding of the vision. At least that would save her a considerable sum of money. And then I laughed at myself. Since when did I start believing in such things as visions? Since when did I even start decoding visions? My heart however still remained in the very pit of my stomach and I instinctively reached to touch it.
“Why did you laugh?”
“Did I laugh?”
She shook her head as if I was losing my mind and flagged down a taxi. Once we were seated in the taxi, she turned to face me,
“Yes? I asked a question.”
“It was nothing, Mama.”
“The time will soon come when I won’t be the one dragging you to church.”
I remained silent. I had just one question for God, and I waited for the solitude of my room to ask aloud,
“God, if you’re really up there, why did you not stop this seed from being planted? I thought you reveal to redeem.”
I nervously laughed and scolded myself,
“Stop the presumption, Anima!”
Thursday, 2 July 2015
Here goes part 7....
Wednesday, 24 June 2015
Monday, 15 June 2015
This is a reminder to me that this life we live is but a vapor. Here today, gone tomorrow.....
A reminder to live each day as if it were my last. A reminder to not hold grudges. A reminder to not keep putting off what I know needs to be done because a time will come when my maker will call me home....And I might end up in the wrong home if I lose sight of the fact that home could be eternal life or eternal damnation....sobering but important reminder these few days have been.
Even as those of us who count ourselves lucky go on and on about how God saved and delivered us from the floods or whatever form of death could have had us mute by now, I find myself asking myself this - Are we implying by our gratitude for life that those who died did something wrong? And what about those of them who have been called to eternal life? Why do we always look at death from the lens of negativity?...It's a question I've asked myself many times. I guess I'm rambling now. I'll just end it here...
Friday, 29 May 2015
Monday, 25 May 2015
Thursday, 21 May 2015
To be continued...
Tuesday, 12 May 2015
Comments welcome :)
Tuesday, 7 April 2015
Anyways, I've been thinking, and I think I'm going to self publish that particular short story. That might just be what will get me to get started on the sequel seeing as I've not written a single sentence since I entered the story in November last year....To whet your appetites, I'm going to post the first few paragraphs (or more appropriately, pages) as my next post to see if anyone will be interested enough to want to read on.
I'm really hoping everyone reading will be excited enough to buy the book when I share the link....No worries, it will be very affordable ;)
Oh, and please note this is a totally random post. I had no plans to put up a post today neither did I have any plans to share part of the story when I started this post. That idea popped up as I typed :D
Let's pray I don't change my mind!
Monday, 23 February 2015
A few days ago, I walked into a certain high commission's offices to submit a visa application. The receptionist took my passport, looked at my data page, raised her head up to look me in the face and this (to the best of my recollection) was what ensued:
Receptionist (R): Is that your own hair? (pointing to my picture in the passport)
R: Are you sure?
R: You looked nicer like this (pointing to my picture in the passport) than now.
I must say at this point that now was me in a natural haired pony.
I only smiled and willed her to go on with the reason why I was standing in front of her. She got the hint and got on with her job - which was to review my documents ( why does that have to be the job of the receptionist though?) but it seemed like my present looks were haunting her and she couldn't hold it in any more. So the dialogue restarted.
R: I'm sure other people have told you same.
Me: Told me what?
R: That you looked nicer with your hair like this ( referring to picture in passport)
Me: No, no one has. ( I still managed to have a genuine smile on my face)
R: Why? Have you gone to join some church? (implying that I was wearing my hair in it's natural state as a result of religious compulsion)
Me: No I haven't.
This was when she resolved to get back to her work.
When all was said and done, she handed my documents back to me and repeated something along the lines of
"You looked nicer with your hair permed"
I replied "I wish I had the time to show you all the pictures of me in my natural hair for you to decide yourself", thanked her and walked away.
The week before this encounter, I had another natural hair dilemma. I was to be a bridesmaid for a very dear friend. When she told me that she wanted us (the bridesmaids) to wear a certain kind of hair weave, I told her NOTHING was going to make me wear a weave and that I intend to wear my hair natural. She accepted my decision. My interaction with one of the other bridesmaids however confirmed my suspicion - that they were all worried I was going to "spoil" the day with my hair. No, she didn't say this in plain words but she was making snide remarks like "Madam NATURAL Hair" "So what are we going to do to our NATURAL Hair for the wedding?"
All this just made me ask myself - when are we going to accept ourselves as we were made? I have said it and I'll say it again, that I have no issues with perming one's hair or wearing weaves. I wore my hair in perms for 5 years and I've worn weaves a few times and will wear if I FEEL LIKE wearing. That means I'm not a natural hair nazi. But when I have permed hair and weave nazis acting all superior, then I feel like tutoring them on self acceptance. I do not need straight hair to look and feel beautiful!!!!
In fact, I'm going to attach a picture of me in my natural hair to this post :p ...make that 2!
Wednesday, 28 January 2015
Sometime in December last year, I was having my quiet time and I decided to share my journal post for that day. After typing it up, I changed my mind. I just came across it this morning and I feel like sharing it so here goes :)