That unfortunate Tuesday June 2, 2015 saw me move to Accra from Somanya on an important mission that would launch my music career. I arrived at half past five that unfortunate evening at the Metro Mass transit yard.
As innocent as ever, I walked through the traffic towards the Barclays Bank Avenue. Little did know I was being monitored. All of a sudden someone touched my forehead, then another (a driver, I suppose) called out Hey! Did that man touch your forehead?” I said “yes”.
“Take your money and spit on it”. Funny enough, I heeded to his advice and did so. I walked on to the Ghana Commercial Bank and then a voice whispered to me; check your wallet’. I gently slipped out my wallet and behold my money was GH¢ 80 cedis less; my first “Accralic” lesson.
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But I was too dead stubborn to learn from that. Soothing enough, I was successful in the business agenda. I then walked over to the GNAT Hostel, Adabraka, only to be told there was no accommodation. It was past 7 pm and the transport service had closed for the night.
Confused as to what to do, I started parading the streets of Accra in search of accommodation. With my iPhone 4 smartphone and about GH¢ 120 in my wallet, I walked towards the Adabraka Police Station from the Kwame Nkrumah Circle just to find a place to lay my head.
I met this young and desperate man who wanted directions to the Forex Bureau. As scared as I was, I called on another man who accompanied us to the Forex Bureau. But guess what? This young man asked us to wait about 30 metres away from the Forex Bureau.
Fifteen to 30 minutes later, he came back and told us he wanted to reward us with one “shining thing” he claimed to be mercury.
So he made us put the said mercury on top of the money, in my case GH¢ 120 and my IPhone and counterpart’s case, his GH¢1,000.
He made us tie items and the money as well as the so called mercury with black polythene bags since the mercury was to work with some heat.
This young man prayed for us and made us part ways so as not to cause confusion between us.
I took the main road leading straight to Kwame Nkrumah Circle. At this time, it was quarter past nine when I got to Adabraka.
I walked through some restaurants and bars in search of accommodation but could not find one.
Curious as I was, as soon as I got to the GCB tower, I sat under one huge tree at the junction that led to Paul Lenox Computer Shop. I opened my bag and brought out the ‘ritual’, I tore the polythene bag and behold, a cigarette pack filled with a tile-like slate stone.
Parading around the GCB tower alongside the scene of prostitution at a quarter to midnight was like a telenovela to me. I could not believe my eyes.
So many young and beautiful ladies were offering their bodies for money. Somehow I managed to “perch” in the GCB tower’s parking lot in one kiosk meant to be the security woman’s office.
The mosquitoes entertained me that night until it was 4:30 am the following morning when the “Kiosk” owner arrived to take over.
I had to beg for money on the streets in order to be able to return home.
I walked briskly to the Metro Mass station and boarded a Somanya bound bus back to Somanya.
Late that night, the sad disaster appeared on my TV set, I just said to myself; God was at work, just to save a sinner like me.