FROM INSIDE MY GRAVE, I WRITE TO YOU

Nurses from the Narh Bita hospital (including a female nurse) refilling my grave

From an unmarked grave in a certain cemetery in Ghana, I write to inform you of my safe arrival in the ancestral village. I had a modest send off last Friday (January 22, 2016) at the forecourt of the mortuary where my cadaver was deposited from the day my mortality was proven at the Narh Bita hospital. 

There I was in my narrow bed

I am not sure you will be surprised to hear that I didn’t even have the privilege to be sent home and displayed (mourned) as is the honour usually accorded mortals. All the same, I had what I considered a solemn send-off, and later, a rousing welcome at the gate of the ancestral village.

Before I got drained of life on Sunday January 10, 2016, I had a good feel of the Ghanaian hospitality (the kind of embrace even my own people could not give me) and that, to a very large extent, lessened the sad feeling of worthlessness in the face of the rejection I suffered from my employer and the Liberian embassy.

My nephew, Johny Johnson

I noted a few things that were comforting. My nephew, Johnny Johnson kept faith with me. He offered to leave his comfort zone in Liberia and came to turn me in my sick bed. The doctors and young nurses at the Narh Bita Hospital joined and tried their best to tie my poor soul and body together and so did the lay preachers from the Trinity congregation of the Presbyterian Church of Ghana, Tema Community 4, also visit me regularly to feed my hungry soul with the living word. The presence of these people in my last days and during my burial helped to largely restore my dignity as a human being.

I left this world with missed feeling and that was because my life was cut short- I feel my exit was rushed and yet now I am happy to have found a peaceful rest from my pains and worries. Soon after my accident in that Liberian Port which got me bed-ridden, my wishes to raise my children into responsible adults started fading and now those wishes have completely evaporated but I know God will provide for my children and family.

As I write you this letter, I have taken my supine position in the confines of my narrow bed in the bellies of the earth, soon to be attended to by the termites. But before I am shredded into pieces, I wish to thank Ghanaians for your warm embrace, particularly Dr. Edward Atter Narh, CEO of the Narh Bita Hospital and all who were constantly by my sick bed. I also feel indebted to the management of Kenya Airways for accepting to flying back my nephew and which they did last Saturday; he has since arrived.

As for the Liberian Ambassador and his staff, I was hungry, they gave me nothing to eat; I was thirsty, they gave me nothing to drink; I became a stranger, and they did not invite me in, I was naked and they didn't cloth me. I was sick and they didn't visit me. For now I am resting and doing what they will each do one day. I leave you with William G. Tomer’s song:

God be with you till we meet again;

By his counsels guide, uphold you;

With his sheep securely fold you.

God be with you till we meet again.

(Chorus)

Till we meet, till we meet,

Till we meet at Jesus' feet,

Till we meet, till we meet,

God be with you till we meet again..

Signed

Moses Negbe

(The abandoned Liberian)

Pain and grief boldly written on my nephew's (middle) face

Rev Nii Naa Doku committing me to the Lord

And the nurses took me to my last resting place, while comforting my nephew