MENSAH OTABIL (EPISODES 1-4)

(THE JOURNEY FROM ORPHAN TO CHANCELLOR)

MENSAH OTABIL- EPISODE 1

Note: this short story is the true life story of Pastor Mensah Otabil and the history of ICGC. However, it has been given a touch of fiction.

 “Otabil, as for you, I’ve never seen your kind foodie before. You don’t miss dining at all with this your big bowl. Do you want to chop everything there?” that was Elizabeth, my desk mate in class. Elizabeth, who is very out-spoken, was the only female friend I had in the school and she almost always had something to say about my attitude towards dining. She, from her attitude towards dining, obviously came from a rich home.

I didn’t have any option than to regularly adhere to the call for dining even though the food they served us was not good enough. Sometimes, immediately after eating the food, one would be attacked by stomach upset till he/she visited that empty room referred to as the school clinic. 

I wondered if the cooks actually prepared the food for us students who had actually paid for our feeding or the food was meant for some servants working in someone’s house. At dining that day, we were served with a ball of kenkey and fried fish. The low quantity of food given us always reminded me of my late mother who would always make sure that my flask was filled with good food each morning I set off for school back in Forms 1 and 2 when I was a day student.

In 1975 when I was in Form two and I was a day student, life was extremely memorable till the sudden mysterious demise of my mum. It happened on one Thursday morning. After accompanying me to pick a taxi to school, she was knocked down by a car on her way back home. So I heard, upon my return to the house after school. My dad had always insisted on taking me to the boarding house but mum would counter, “as a full-time housewife, I won’t send my child to the boarding house to be fed with sub-standard food and also expose him to bad company. Let me keep him here so that I would groom him myself in the godly manner”.

Even though I wished to be a boarder, mum’s argument also appeared logical. In fact, the few months I had stayed in the boarding house attested to the fact that mum was right. If tears could make the dead live again, my tears would have brought my mum back to the house alive. I cried till I could feel blood, other than tears, ooze out of my eyes. My mum had been my world and everything. How could she leave me in the middle of the journey of life, who would take good care of me as my mother was doing? 

My dad was always busy with work. Sometimes, we would not see him for about a month or two. He would come late in the night and leave for work very early in the morning sometimes at dawn. However, her demise resulted in me having to be taken to the boarding house since my dad didn’t have time to always be with me. He also never trusted house helps to take good care of his children. The next academic year, that was 1976, I was taken to the boarding house. Life there was very challenging.

Every awkward moment made me miss my mother but life went on till one early Monday morning as I prepared to leave the hall to the classroom, I had a phone call from my younger sister, “Otabil, dad is dead!”

WATCHOUT FOR EPISODE 2

“No matter what prison you are in, nobody can imprison the power of your imagination”- Ps. Mensa Otabil

To receive the full story and other short stories directly from the writer (Daniel Arkoh Fenyi), send “WC” to 0242937017 (only on Whatsapp).

Click on the link below to read the EPISODE 2.

http://creativewritinggh.blogspot.com/2016/07/mensah-otabil-episode-2.html

Writers’ Corner, we READ to LEAD!

MENSAH OTABIL- EPISODE 2

Note: this short story is the true life story of Pastor Mensah Otabil and the history of ICGC. However, it has been given a touch of fiction.

Every awkward moment made me miss my mother but life went on till one early Monday morning as I prepared to leave the hall to the classroom, I had a phone call from my younger sister, “Otabil, dad is dead!” That short expression from my sister fell me to the ground and by the time I was brought back to life from the trance, I was living with Sister Alfreda, the assistant leader of the Women Ministry of Kanda Fellowship where my mother served as the Women Ministry leader.

Although she equalled my mother in age, she preferred to be known as Sister for which reason I never knew. “Sister Alfreda, please what’s going on?” out of anxiety and curiosity, I enquired. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon on our way to her house after church service. “When we get home, I will tell you everything, Otabil,” that was her response. One thing I liked about Sister Alfreda was her precision. Beating about the bush was a virtue she disgusted and to show that, she lived by example. 

Upon reaching home, we took a cup of porridge to break our six-hour weekly fast and Sister Alfreda began to let me in on the turn of events in my life. “Otabil, your parents are no more and so your family have decided to take care of you children. Your four sisters have been given to four different family members to take care of. The church has decided to take care of you, as the only male among the children. The consensus was that, you stay with me and on each Sunday, we would give special offertory for your upkeep. Aside that, we would also depend on donations from members who would pass by the house during the week and give us something”. 

“That is life. Life must go on Otabil. Let the dead bury the dead. Life is the biggest gift one could ever have”. She had wittingly switched the topic upon seeing the tears that were coming out of my eyes. Barely two years ago, I lived like a king with my parents. But now, am a complete orphan living at the mercy of mere donations from well-wishers and the church. 

Thousands of unanswerable questions began to throng my mind. How often would I get to see my sisters? How would Sister Alfreda treat me? Is God really alive? Where did my family go wrong? I felt cold and quietly walked to my room and off, I slept. Though I felt very sad and lonely, the church and family members really gave me hope. Life was always good around good people. The church had definitely proved that they were people I could count on in hard times like that. 

By the following week, I was back in school. After a few condolence messages from colleagues and teachers, school life and all that came with it started; assignments, quizzes, homework, group work and finally O’Level final examinations in 1977. I passed massively, thanks to the church who sponsored me in the absence of my parents. Living as an orphan at 17 was not easy. That was the peak of my adolescent stage where I needed parental guidance most, but such is life. 

After I completed school, I went to the streets where I sold all kinds of things; garden eggs, handkerchiefs, tomatoes. Life got bitter day after day till I later got my …

WATCHOUT FOR EPISODE 3

“No matter what prison you are in, nobody can imprison the power of your imagination”- Ps. Mensa Otabil

To receive the full story and other short stories directly from the writer (Daniel Arkoh Fenyi), send “WC” to 0242937017 (only on Whatsapp).

Click on the link below to read the EPISODE 3.

http://creativewritinggh.blogspot.com/2016/07/mensah-otabil-episode-3.html

Writers’ Corner, we READ to LEAD!

MENSAH OTABIL- EPISODE 3

Note: this short story is the true life story of Pastor Mensah Otabil and the history of ICGC. However, it has been given a touch of fiction.

Life got bitter day after day till I later got my first office work and the struggle for livelihood really begun. As a young Christian brother, I walked into my office with the strong will that by the time I was due to leave the place, I would have converted everyone there into Christianity. It was a tough challenge I gave myself but I believed with God by my side, everything was achievable. 

Few years after working, I was able to rent a single room, changed my mat for a mattress and lived on my own. Though that was a small beginning, I knew that with time, I would be able to buy all the other things I needed as a man. 

At that time, my beautiful girlfriend, Joy, was also busily preparing herself towards our plan to marry. As Christians, we avoided fornication and to help ourselves stay focused, we informed our Pastor and a few elders in the church about our relationship and these people served as a guide to us. They would always make sure that we don’t meet at dark places alone. They made sure Joy would not put on any seductive attire to my place and they also made sure that we avoided body contacts that could eventually lead to fornication. 

Life with Joy was very interesting but for the fact that some of her family relatives advised her against marrying me. I remember, once, after work, I was visiting her and just when I was about to knock on the door, I overheard noises coming out of her room. That was the voice of Uncle Tony, a good family friend of hers telling her, “Joy, that Otabil boy has no future, leave him. What at all do you see in that poor lad? He has no money, no car, no house of his own and his job is not lucrative. He can’t take good care of you and the family. Leave him and accept Richard.” 

Joy had once mentioned to me that Richard was harassing her but I did not know that her Uncle was really in support of what Richard was doing. I wasn’t surprised because Richard, a young university graduate, worked as a Chartered Accountant at the Ghana Commercial Bank then. He had three porch cars, two mansions and was pursuing a Masters’ degree in England. 

In fact, I personally didn’t know why any lady would accept me over Richard, but that was exactly what Joy did. In 1986, we eventually got married and Joy...

WATCHOUT FOR EPISODE 4 (the last episode)

“No matter what prison you are in, nobody can imprison the power of your imagination”- Ps. Mensa Otabil

To receive the full story and other short stories directly from the writer (Daniel Arkoh Fenyi), send “WC” to 0242937017 (only on Whatsapp).

Writers’ Corner, we READ to LEAD!

MENSAH OTABIL- EPISODE 4

Note: this short story is the true life story of Pastor Mensah Otabil and the history of ICGC. However, it has been given a touch of fiction.

In 1986, we eventually got married and she served as a secretary to my newly founded church. Even though, the entire membership of the church was twenty, I still had hope that we would grow to be one of the biggest churches across the globe. 

We started at the Kanda Cluster of schools where we rented one of the classrooms for our meetings. Every single meeting day came with its own challenge and life as a young Pastor became very frustrating. I remember there were several days we couldn’t get a place to worship and so we had to stand in the open at the mercy of the scorching sun to worship the Lord. 

What really baffled some of the church members was that, after all these sufferings, I would carry greater part of the offertory to an orphanage in the name of charity. Some would say, “Brother Otabil, we don’t support what you are doing at all. We need money to build the church and do other administration works, why would you carry everything to the orphans?” 

Charity was the hard lesson the demise of my parents taught me. I lived on the charity of the church and other family relatives. So if had gotten out of that circle, why wouldn’t I help those who found themselves in similar situations like that. I had learnt how to give not because I had enough or the church had enough, but because I knew how it felt to have nothing. 

The church started growing steadily year after year and after about ten years, we had grown into about four thousand (4,000) membership. The struggle from life as an orphan to who I am currently is just similar to the struggle of Joseph from the pit to the palace, in the bible. Though he was thrown into the pit by his own brothers, his dreams and gift made him end up in the Palace of Portiphar where he served as the Prime Minister.

I am now convinced that life is all about your dreams, meeting the right people and your love for your God. Aside from preaching the word of God, I, orphaned at age 17, am now an author, lecturer and philanthropist. I also sit in board meetings of executive boards of several companies and above all, I serve as the Chancellor of Ghana’s premiere private university, all by the Grace of God. Don’t let any situation put you down. 

This is the story of one of Ghana’s favourite preachers, Pastor Mensah Otabil. Your situation may be similar, better or worse, but in everything, be determined, stay focused, be faithful to God and you sure will come out successful. 

THE END

“No matter what prison you are in, nobody can imprison the power of your imagination”- Ps. Mensa Otabil

To receive the full story and other short stories directly from the writer (Daniel Arkoh Fenyi), send “WC” to 0242937017 (only on whatsapp).

Click on the link: creativewritinggh.blogspot.com

Writers’ Corner, we READ to LEAD!

Thank you.

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