It is 7:50 am. You are at Circle, Accra. You are going to Madina. There are about 12 people also going to Madina and more people keep coming but you are running late for work, yet, there’s still no bus. Then, like the voice of John the Baptist in the desert shouting “Jesus is coming! Jesus is coming!”, you hear the mate in the approaching bus hawk his destination, “Madina! Madina!”
In nanoseconds, you calculate the stopping point of the bus, taking into consideration factors such as the velocity of the bus, the look on the driver’s face, the friction between the road surface and the car tyres and the relative spatial positions of other vehicles on the road. Then you place yourself strategically at a position on the curb where you have at least 70% chance of being one of the first four people to get access to the door of the bus as it stops.
You bless your high school Physics teacher in your head as the bus stops just in front of you; all your calculations are proven accurate. A quick scan of the bus reveals there are just about three empty seats in the bus.
You plunge forward, ready to claim your blessings when from nowhere, a thousand other people push forward too. Sweaty and soft bodies alike press against you from all directions, all hustling to enter and snatch your blessings away from you.
You remember Archbishop Duncan Williams‘ voice booming in your head: “…be strong and march forward!” You do exactly that. You stand firm and make your way, inch by inch, and finally, triumphantly enter the bus, your Canaan. You pick one of the empty spots and sink your butts deep into the seats.
You smile slyly at those still down who were not able to make it into the bus. You pity them for not having good Physics teachers in high school.
You relax and savour your victory.
When you have settled well and the bus has taken off, you remember you have a couple of WhatsApp messages to answer. You reach into your pocket for your phone. Left pocket, empty. Right pocket, empty. Back pocket…at this point, your heart is thumping strongly and you begin to feel dizzy.
Slowly, you insert the tip of your longest finger into the mouth of your back pocket. You pray strongly that you should feel the hard body of the iPhone 6s that you bought just yesterday after saving 60% of your salary for eight months.
But, the witches in your hometown have other plans for you. The back pocket is empty, just like your mobile money and bank accounts.
It is at that moment that you understand the saying, “Not every victory is a victory”.