MY DAY OUT ON SATURDAY: GOD'S SAVING GRACE

On Saturday morning I took full advantage of the chance to sleep in. Staying in bed until 11am, I woke up with the intent of doing some cleaning around the house. The original plan for that Saturday had been to meet with Bella, a friend and a seamstress by trade, to get some fabrics from the market that some friends have asked me to bring home for them.

Aside from putting some of my things in order, I also wanted to wipe down the dusty window panes. With the hamatan season now coming to an end, the dry dusty air is being swept back to the sahara desert; with the change, it felt like a good time to make what is becoming a clear view from the fourth story bedroom even clearer.

As I began to wipe down the window panes, I realized that the screens were caked with dirt. In order to clean them, I would need to remove each of the ten glass panes in each of the windows.

The task that I had gotten myself into was more than what I had expected, but I was compelled by the hope of a clean and clear view.

After about twelve buckets of water, the window panes and the screens were clean. I put each piece of glass back into it’s place and admired the scenery.

Over the course of my cleaning, the plans for my day had also changed. I had called Idrissa and tried calling Adwoa (her phone is having issues), to see if they wanted to go to the beach after church on Sunday. Though I was unable to reach Adwoa, Idrissa was interested, but mentioned a meeting that she had after church. She suggested that we go that afternoon instead. I agreed.

I called Bella to see if she wanted to go instead of going to the market. Idrissa called Sandra (who was also with Adwoa), and her friend Patience. The result of the calls was the it was to by Idrissa, Patience, Bella and me going. I know that in a few weeks, I will not have the option of going to the warm Oceanside for the afternoon as readily available to me, so I really just wanted to spend some time by the water.

While on my way to meet Bella, however, I called Idrissa to check on her progress. She told me that she had an unexpected visitor, and that Patience was taking a lot longer than she had said that she would; as a result, she had to cancel on the beach plans.

I was not deterred. I got to Kaneishie before Bella, and took advantage of the time on my hands to browse around the hectic Saturday afternoon atmosphere at the market. On the street leading up to the three story building that houses the market, I let my attention bob between watching where I was walking and taking in the sights of sellers and their stalls. ON the roadside I passed open glass displays holding recently cut meat. There were chicken wings, sides of beef, and various portions of intestines. One woman was using a machete to crack a thick rounded bone with some flesh loosely attached for an observing customer, when it slipped her grip and dropped to the ground.

After passing the row of meat stalls, which are mirrored by stalls selling an abundance of imitation sneakers, I stepped into the wide entrance to the first floor.

The building relies on natural light entering through the patterns in the concrete walls that make up the building. Set before my eyes was an expanse of sun rays and shadows, falling yellow bottles of cooking oil, red piles of tomatoes, the grey, white, black and brown of fresh and salted fish, and stacks of produce and spices. Through the isles separating stacks and piles, and doting the sight, were people cooking, counting, serving, rushing, talking, and even sleeping.

I proceeded to head for the stairs to see the second floor, along the way passing big bowls of live crabs and the strong smell of fish. On the second floor I found accessories for clothing and phones, household items, and too many other odd items to list.

After a quick glance, I headed up to the third floor. The sound of sewing machines was the what first hit my senses. Stall after stall was decorated with hanging bunches of fabrics, and about half of them had people at work sewing together outfits.

I browsed through the stalls touching the fabrics that caught my attention. After one woman, the daughter of one of the shopkeepers let me know that she wanted me to be her friend, Bella called me to tell me that she had arrived. I quickly made my exit, and climbed down the stairs, and headed down the street to the chaos of the tro tro yard.

From there, after cutting through the confusion of an argument bordering a full out fight, we were on our way on the first of three vehicles that would bring us to our destination.

By that time it was close to three in the afternoon. The sun was still up and warm, but the breeze off of the ocean took away the feeling of really being hot. Deciding that it was too late in the day to swim, we picked up with a group from a college in Accra and played some football.

As that entourage was getting ready to leave, we too decided that we should get going before it began to get dark. After a few minutes, we left the beach and headed about 100 metres from the water to the roadside to catch a taxi.

As we walked along the road, we noticed many of the older women in the red and black outfits that had been seen so frequently in the past week with the funeral of the Ga King. The beach that we were at, near Coco Bitae, is in the heartland of the Ga nation.

With people ahead of us and behind us, we began to walk down the road as we attempted to flag down a taxi. After a minute or so, I told Bella that I had to pee in the bush. I walked about 10 feet down a dirt road to do just that.

Just after finishing, I was shocked to turn to hear Bella screaming. She started to run towards me, then changed directions and ran towards the road. There was a man chasing, so I ran towards them. In the process Bella through her phone in the air to me, and while still running in their direction, I caught it.

While she had been waiting for me, she had noticed someone running towards her out of the corner of her eye. He had tried to snatch the phone in her hand, however, she pulled the phone and turned her body just in time to send him running into the bush. He then got back out and started running towards her. That was when I had first realized that something was wrong.

Now with the phone in my hand, and him grabbing her, I screamed at the guy, “Yo, what are you doing? What do you think you are doing?”. As I got close to them he began to run down the road toward the beach with her back in his hand. I proceeded to chase him, when he stopped and I saw the silver of a knife in his hand. A stream of thoughts went through my mind that caused me to stop, and brace myself for any move that he might make. I looked at him in his face, then he turned again and ran down the road.

I quickly ran back to Bella to see her bouncing on her feet, with her arm limp, and crying. One man came and tied a bandana around the top of her arm. I looked and saw a deep wound near her elbow pouring with blood, so I took the small raptors towel that had been in my hand and tied over the wound. A couple of cars passed us before I stood out in front of a vehicle that stopped to help us. Four large men jumped out of the car.

As I explained what had happened, two of the men had brought a man over to me and asked me, “do you know him?”. I told them, “no”. They told me that he had said he knows me, and he pleaded with me, “please, you know me”. He was the guy that had tied the bandana on her arm, and I was getting to understand what they meant; I told them, “I don’t know him, but he is the one who helped us”. They suspected he was the thief and were ready to beat him senseless, if not to death.

With that, they let him out of their grip and we piled into the car, four of us in the back seat. Racing along the two lane beach road, the driver kept his hand on the horn and passed the other traffic to bring us to the local hospital. I held Bella’s arm up, and repeated that it was going to be okay.

Once at the hospital, the situation played out like I had seen in so many movies. The nurse told us to go and take a seat, and I refused telling her what happened and that we needed to see a doctor.

Thankfully, she realized the gravity of the situation and brought us to a room where Bella’s wounds could be assessed and stictched.

With the two deep stab wounds – one near her shoulder and one just above the inside of her elbow – the blood was flowing heavily. Major veins had been cut, and it required stitches inside and outside. I stood there squeezing the top of her shoulder to slow the flow of the blood and put my sweater over her eyes so that she would not see what was going on.

The next 45 minutes consisted of explaining what was happening to Bella, reassuring her that things would be okay, making phone calls to her family, answering both of our phones and attempting to arrange a ride from the hospital. Not counting the inner stitches, she had eight for one cut and four for the other.

Once the nurse was finished with the stitching, I paid the hospital and collected the medication that she would need. We then walked to the roadside to catch a taxi, as we could not get anyone to come and drive us. Walking, I told Bella that I was sorry for what had happened. She told me that it was not my fault, but we didn’t talk much about it. I told her, “I don’t know what to say”. Once we were in a taxi on our way, we got a call to turn back and pick up her sister Millie who had arrived at the hospital. It was not until we began to explain to Mille what happened that we really spoke about the whole situation.

After going back to get her we went together back to Bella’s house. With it being late, and having not fully registered what had happened, I stayed at the house. Together, Millie and I did our best to make sure Bella was alright

That night, we felt grateful that we were safe. After listening to Bella, I realized that the robber had been swinging the knife towards her chest, but she had turned her body when she was throwing the phone to me, and the knife came into her left arm instead.

I also let her know that one of the men that helped us had found her purse on the road, which had dropped out of the bag. All that the guy got away with was a bag and a beach towel. Not that any of the materials mattered, but it made something so insane (to attack someone and endanger their life for a phone that will sell for no more than 100,000 cedis which is about $12 Canadian).

All of the conversations about what had happened were centred on God’s grace and protection.

That night, I didn’t sleep well.

All night, and even up until today a few images keep passing through my mind. I keep seeing myself standing in front of that guy, with the knife in his hand, prepared for any move he might make. I also keep seeing Bella at the side of the road, with her arm limp and bleeding.

Thoughts swirled in my mind. Why he didn’t try to take the phone from me which was in my hand? Why he didn’t try to take the bag that I had on my shoulder? What made him turn and run while I was facing him? I thought of how the situation could have been much worse. I also thought of if we had of caught him. The crowd of people would most likely have killed him. What would have I done?

I couldn’t answer that. When I saw the knife and I saw what he did to Bella, that was the first time that I ever felt like I could have taken a life. At that time, it seemed that it would not have even bothered me.

Thoughts that he is also a person and thoughts of Stephen in the book of Acts being stoned asking God to forgive the people and not to lay it to their charge conflicted with the imagination of having had a gun to shoot him or having caught him.

Yesterday, Mama Ackerson and I went over to visit Bella. Today, I brought her to see Dr. Lokko who changed the dressing on her wounds and will take the stitches out next week.

I think of what happened, but I know that fear is not to rule me. It can’t take dominion over me in my person or in my thoughts. I take the wisdom of caution from this, and I will not fight the alertness it has stirred, but I will not be jaded either.

God spared us from so much. He attempted to stab her in her chest. He could have tried to attack me. We got away with our lives. We were protected by His grace.