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Trotro Matters: My encouter with a bully of a prophet

Trotro Matters Passengers boarding trotro

Fri, 3 Mar 2017 Source: Paa Kwesi Forson

By: Paa Kwesi Forson

The patronage of public transportation, known in local parlance as ‘trotro’ is a relief, especially for travellers who can’t afford a personal vehicle at the moment or those who are not driving for one reason or the other.

For me, sitting in a comfortable trotro is fun as I get to meet interesting people and listen in to konkonsa from other troskians. Last Monday was my worse troski experience by far.

So that fine morning, I hopped into a Lapas-bound car from the main station in Tema Community one and headed straight for to the second seat as I didn’t want to inconvenience any passenger when alighting.

The mini-bus got full and the car finally hit the road. Once I finished paying my fare, I inserted my earpiece into my ears to listen to Citi Breakfast Show (CBS) as a way of ‘minding of my business’ and staying current.

Engulfed as I was in the CBS conversation, I could still hear a voice shouting from the front row. Oya, I unplugged one earpiece to hear what he was saying. Saana, the man seated in front of me in the first row had been speaking on the gospel of Christ in a funny style unknown to me; the man was virtually screaming the message of Christ to us as though we were deaf.

From the little I heard and saw of him, I only prayed his shouting wouldn’t endanger my eardrum while the saliva discharging uncontrollably from his mouth wouldn’t find its way into my face. What a morning!

In the course of the journey, I saw my mum’s incoming call and I knew there was no way I was going to pick it and subject my already overburdened ear to a straining session.

Her calls kept coming and I felt guilty I couldn’t pick up to know why the old girl was calling. The next call that came again was not from my mum but from my boss.

Bosses generally don’t take kindly to subordinates not answering calls or returning missed calls. Immediately, I knew I was in the deepest of troubles that morning.

But who am I to tell this preacher of a man that he needed to shut up for me to pick my boss’ call. It seemed I was the only person inconvenienced by the activity in the vehicle.

That was when I realised freedom of speech and other freedoms are a big joke in this country. Before I could finish thinking of how to get the preacher to tone it down, I saw my boss’ call again. Herh! That sparked a wave of nervousness in my being.

I called out to the prophet, “Papa Osofo, can you kindly….”

End of Part one….

Columnist: Paa Kwesi Forson