“My Office is Prayer, a dream come true"

 Says newly Consecrated Virgin

By Kwesi Yirenkyi Boateng

Martin Luther King Jnr. once noted that “To be a Christian without prayer is no more possible than to be alive without breathing.” Indeed, for many Christians, prayer may seem a usual practice, but for the newly Consecrated Virgin (CV) for the Accra Archdiocese, Sr. Agatha Veronica Nah-Karley Thompson, prayer is her Office.

This means that her foremost duty as a Consecrated Virgin, who shares a spousal relationship with Christ, nourished by attentiveness to prayer, is to constantly pray for and with the Church at all times.

The insignia of her consecration are a Veil, a Ring, and the Book of the Liturgy of the Hours.

These were presented to Sr. Veronica during the solemn liturgical celebration by the Most Rev. Charles Palmer-Buckle, Metropolitan Archbishop of Accra, at the Holy Spirit Cathedral on September 8, 2010, the   feast of the nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

It is the solemn consecration that sets her apart as Sponsa Christi (Spouse of Christ), a Consecrated Virgin in union with the Church, for the rest of her life.

Srs. Genevieve, H.D.R. and Maria Josefa Petilla, (a Consecrated Virgin) were Sr. Veronica’s attendants at the Mass.

The Mass was concelebrated with Very Rev. Frs. Francis Adoboli, and Andrew Campbell, S.V.D., Vicar General of the Accra Archdiocese and Episcopal Vicar for the Religious respectively, as well as a 18 other Priests.

    

The Consecration thus bestows on her the onus to work in collaborative ministries, as an Extraordinary Minister of the Eucharist, Spiritual Director, organise prayer meetings, preside over Sunday Liturgies in areas without a Priest, Teach and work in any place designated by the Church, where her training and qualification fits in.

Sr. Veronica in an interview with The Catholic Standard Reporter Kwesi Yirenkyi Boateng, expressed great joy and fulfilment in being a Consecrated Virgin, in service of the Lord.

  

The Order of Virgins (ORDO VIRGINUM), according to Canon 604.1, is an ancient form of consecrated life in the Church. “Through their pledge to follow Christ more closely, virgins are consecrated to God, mystically espoused to Christ and dedicated to the service of the Church, when the Diocesan Bishop consecrates them according to the approved liturgical rite.” 

Pope Benedict XVI teaches that “The Order of Virgins represents a particular form of consecrated life which has ancient roots that go back to the beginning of evangelical life when, in an unprecedented novelty, the hearts of certain women began to open to a desire to give one’s entire being to God, which had its first extraordinary fulfilment in the Virgin of Nazareth and her ‘Yes’”.

In the rite of consecration, the virgin embraces the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience.  The Order of Virgins is an individual state of life lived in prayer and in service for and of the Church.

Among some early Consecrated Christian virgins were Ss. Agnes, Agatha, Lucy and Cecilia. The rite of consecration existed well before various Institutes of Religious Life and their related ceremonies of Profession of Vows.

Around the 6th Century, the Rite of Consecration for women living in the world was discontinued, but continued to be retained for Cloistered Nuns in Monasteries. The Rite is distinct from the Profession of Vows.

The Fathers   of Vatican Council II, overwhelmingly, voted to restore the Rite for women living in the world; thus paving way for its promulgation on May 31, 1970.

The life of a Consecrated Virgin is a witness to Christ, which, Pope John Paul II, in his 1996 Apostolic Exhortation, Vita Consecrata, described as “They constituting a special eschatological image of the heavenly bride and of the life to come when the Church will at last fully live her love for Christ, the bridegroom.”

Consecrated virginity, which is irrevocable, is a distinct form of Evangelical life in the Church; it is a vocation totally and completely on its own. While it is related to other forms of consecrated life, it is not identical to any of them; nor is it a stepping stone to these other forms of consecrated life. It is an individual state of life with its own particular character.

Referring to consecrated virgins, Pope John Paul II, who recognised the laity (married and dedicated single), the ordained, and the consecrated life in the Church, noted that it is a “source of joy to witness the new flowering of the ancient order of virgins, known ever since apostolic times.”

Presently, there are only two known CV’s in the country and both of them affirm bright prospects for the Order of Consecrated Virgins in Ghana.

Consecration is performed after the potential Candidate declares her intention to live as a consecrated virgin to the Diocesan Bishop. She then undergoes a period of preparation determined by the Bishop, and is usually guided during the preparatory period by the Episcopal Vicar for the Religious, in the Diocese and a Spiritual Director, either appointed by the Bishop or chosen by the Candidate.

After first professing her propositum to Archbishop Palmer-Buckle some two years ago, Sr. Veronica said Very Rev. Fr. Andrew Campbell, S.V.D., the Episcopal Vicar for the Religious in the Accra Archdiocese was very instrumental in her Spiritual preparation.

Born on 4th September, 1951, to Mr. Charles Q. Thompson, (the first Ghanaian Photo-Journalist to work at the Ministry of Information) and Mrs. Edna Abigail Thompson (A House Wife and an Entrepreneur), both deceased, Sr. Veronica is the fifth of nine Children.

Growing up in a family with a strong Christian (some being Catholics and Anglicans) background, and with a disciplined Mother, Sr. Veronica learned the Christian Values from her home.

Although she did not seem interested to enter the convent, even after many people had suggested that she should, she says “for whatever reason, I had a strong feeling that there is more to life than there seems to be, it is only that I did not feel called to live in a convent, even though I always had a strong urge and desire to getting a firm direction for an inner spiritual growth.  I knew I needed to be rooted.”

Sr. Veronica who is a Parishioner at the St. Thomas More Parish, Achimota, is a member of the Amalgamated group at the Parish.

Her hobbies include listening to good classical and sacred music, reading good books, and singing (before she lost her voice). She is a fine artist, who expresses her art through several mediums including gardening.

She is currently pursuing a Masters Programme in Pastoral Studies with the Catholic Theological Union (CTU) in Chicago, USA, and holds a Professional Graduate Certificate in Spiritual Formation from CTU and a Pontifical Certificate in Theology and Spirituality from the Milltown Institute of Theology and Philosophy, Dublin, Ireland.

  

Most of her friends who described her as being religious, confirmed her selfless role in the Parish and her willingness to help people in need.

She urges young virgins who want to serve the Lord closely to aspire to enter the Order of Consecrated Virgins.  

This article appeared in the October 30, 2010, Edition of The Catholic Standard Weekly Newspaper

An expedition of a difference

It was naturally refreshing and very entertaining, yet the experience was worth it sort. I could not imagine the excitement written on the faces of many adventures who were on the hiking trip.

I arrived at Vane via Ho in the Volta Region of Ghana at half past ten o’clock GMT on Sunday 23^rd October, 2011 from Accra and walked the entire narrow bumpy 1.5 km to Dzogbefeme-Avatime, where the group camped from Saturday 22^nd or was it 23^rd October. I joined the group on Sunday because of a boys- boys party I couldn’t afford to miss in Accra.

Dzogbefeme-Avatime is a hidden hilly town off the Vane-Amedzofe road.  With over 700 people, the town is one of the seven towns of the Avatime traditional area. It has nice sceneries of ecotourism sites that when fully developed, could generate additional income for the area and the country at large.

The people, who speak the Sideme language, also speak Ewe as a second language.

I got the direction to the hilly town through Dziedzom Kweku Segbefia, Leader of the Expedition, who I constantly communicated on my cell phone.

Mr. Kusi Appiah and Kojo Flweezy met me in the town, after walking a distance of about 700 meters through the town. I was nearer the foot of a steep medium-size  hilly plane, where the rest of the group were based.

I climbed slowly over the steep rocky path, just following them at a respectful distance. We got to the top and oh! The sun as if with a renewed passion shone brightly above, and the skin under my clothes bleed professing of sweats.  

Pre-hiking training

After we got to the top, I immediately joined in the pre-hiking group training. That was after I exchanged pleasantry with Dziedzom my Course Mate at GIJ. I was posted to the Fox-trot group with Stella Sarpong, another college at GIJ as the Group Leader. There were other groups like Gulf and Echo.

The vigorous training, which included physical, emotional and mental alertness exercises continued into the hot afternoon, but with the focus of the impending hiking in sight, no one seemed perturbed or fatigued.     

 

Audience with the Okusie

Just after training, the entire group climbed down the plane to pay  a courtesy call on the Chief of Dzogbefeme-Avatime, Okusie Adza Bansa Dzapraka X, and the elders of the town at his palace.

They offered warm reception and received the group with an air of brotherliness that made the group members felt much at home.

During the interaction the group sort to learn about the people and the challenges the town was facing. Lack of portable water and toilet facilities, leaking classrooms and classroom blocks, ICT and library and workshop, were among the challenges the Chiefs and elders mentioned in our short interaction.

The Okusie intimated that the village abounded in many ecotourism sites that when developed could help generate a lot of revenue for the District and the Country at large. 

To cement the ties of friendship between the group and the town, the Chief offered soft drinks and bananas, while Mr. Dziedzom Kweku Segbefia, the Expedition Leader, on behalf of the Adventurers handed a certificate with the company’s insignia on it to the Chief.

The group posed with the Chief and elders of the town before leaving the premises. 

The Swimming Expedition

Men o! Men or is it boys or boys! I remember the group, no I mean the men enjoyed themselves at a pond located adjacent the football field of the town, which the boys turn into a swimming pool. And the ladies were spell-bound as they looked on helplessly, wishing they could just do what the boys or men were doing…

After having had enough of the bath, they (boys) went for a good bath up streams, all along with the ladies restlessly looking on.

The Goat Party

It was long in coming, but at last it came. The operators arrived with the boiled carcass of the stubborn beast at around 21:00 hours there about. I was half asleep and so were many of the hikers on the little mountain overlooking the town.  But forcefully awoke when news of the much awaited goat meat got to the hill.

The sleep vanished from my face. And o! what a feast it was. The goat party, the stinking palm wine, and the big party cheers attracted many participants who spoiled their sleep to taste and enjoyed the boiled meat.

The Night up the Hill

There night was calm and chilly. And those who slept outside in the open air had a real taste of the cool fogy night with a free windy breeze blowing over the horizon. 

Then came the snoring bit. Those who couldn’t enjoy the comfort of the two tents dared not snored, as they tried cuddling the blankets and the wet grasses around themselves deep into the night.

The tempo of the snoring rose and drifted away in the night air. And although the windy breeze was readily eating-up the noise from the hikers, the noise intermittently disturbed the ears of those camping outside in the open air.

The feeling was good, at least it was a taste of a different sleeping space. At day break, accusing fingers were pointed to those who snored most, but everybody denied snoring. The search for the culprits, still continuous, maybe an award code named Mountain Top Snoring Awards, like someone was suggesting could have been given to the one who snored most…     

The Hiking Day

The hikers woke with the rising sunlight, buckled their climbing boots, fixed their hiking gears and climbed down from their base in an unintended queue. Walking through the town amidst blowing the two vuvuzela’s we carried waved and bade the town folk’s bye, as we moved through the town to start the hiking journey. We walked along the paths through large stretches of farms lands, light and thick forests, over rough terrains and wet grounds, overlooking deep bushy ravine.

They crossed rivers with their boots and not boats. Some daring ones did jump over small streams and maneuvered through slippery grounds as they steadily climbed the treacherous Afadzato Mountains.

The hiking was more of a challenge of life as worthy lessons came to bear. We were stretched to the limits of their capabilities but the ultimate goal of finishing with the constant support of fellow hikers kept the caravan in shape and in steady motion.

Indeed, the previous day’s vigorous training really paid as it prepared the minds of the hikers for the journey.

There were few rest stops on the way but it certainly did not help reduce the sweating and zest of the hikers to reach the top.

Gradually, as the air grew lighter up on the mountain, the feet of hikers grew heavier and bit by bit we were there. Amedzofe… was in views.

O! yesssssss! At last we are here; one Adventurer exclaimed when she stepped on Amedzofe’s soils.  But then the Mount Gemi, which one hiker corrupted to “Gbemi”, was much clearer and nearer in sight.

There was another obstacle at Amedzofe, as the Guard at the Local Eco-Tourism Office proved difficult, but thanks to God there was smooth passage after a peaceful negotiation which lasted for over 30 or so minutes.

As the negotiation with the Tourist Guard went on, the hikers enjoyed some local brewed  beer in nicely washed calabashes, while others ate 'waakye' as well as some food stuff.

The walk to Mount Gemi was quite cool, not like the previous one. But hmmm! It was an interesting view of nature. Nature is beautiful. But for the fog covering the plains and valleys, hikers would have had a clearer view of the Volta Lake, that was about 2,000 meters away and the other interesting sceneries of fauna and flora.

But for the unfriendly insects which harassed us at the apex of the mountain where an imposing metallic cross stood, we would have bathed a little longer in the spackling sun rays that shined with a renewed vigour of intensity, after the pregnant moist clouds gaze breathed some freshness on our heads. The group couldn’t pop the Champaign as planed… but it was an interesting adventure.

Nevertheless we had the filled of our eyes up there. 

It was an exciting expedition and we couldn’t have asked for more…

Ayeekoo to the organisers!            

 By Kwesi Yirenkyi Boateng

Who cares for these neglected folks?

By Kwesi Yirenkyi Boateng

Naturally, every animal extends special care to its offspring irrespective of whether it was born with deformity. In the animal kingdom although the concept of survival of the fittest predominates, there is this communal care exhibited towards the weakest and feeble ones when animals move in groups.

However, this concept of communal care among human societies which is manifested among many rural African settings, seem not to be extended to the physically challenged, hence they are left to their fate. Sometimes, the sense of insecurity starring some of them in the face, for fear of being attacked and used for rituals is enough to drive them into hiding all the time. At times, families who perceive their disabled children as a disgrace, lock them up in rooms to hide them from friends who may visit. The mean treatment meted out to persons with disability greatly affects their self-esteem and to a large extent their social lives.

A cursory look on our streets indicates the presence of not just street children but many mentally challenged people in our cities and villages. In fact there is no village in this country without one, but there is this begging question of who actually cares for them? Or better put, whose responsibility it is to take care of them?

The case of Tataa

I grew up in a small town of about 500 people but normally increased to over a thousand or more during market days. Tataa was a common name in Dodi-Papase then. He was a middle aged man of about six feet high without teeth in his mouth except his gums that showed each time he laughed at us. Tataa was a restless fellow who prowls the dusty roads from the town to Ahamansu Junction back and forth and usually stationed himself under a mango tree in the heart of the market, although with the constant threat of eviction by competing market women for the shade the branches of the tree provides.

Every child of my age knew Tataa and made fun of him especially after school. The harassment becomes unbearable or so I thought when we went on vacations, because we (children) had the whole day to ourselves and followed him.

Though we persistently worried him every day, Tataa was always calm and never lost his cool. Sometimes Tataa would usually chase the naughty-daring and mischievous ones away. We liked him in spite of his unkempt condition, and also because he made us giggle about the rat-race he engaged us in.

After tirelessly moving from his temporal market station to the main town, Tataa later comes back to rest. He lived by begging for food, water and anything edible from those selling at the market square and generally contributed to keeping the market place clean by picking abandoned foodstuffs and sometimes sweeps under the mango tree before resting.

Children of my age then were delighted to make fun of him by teasing and drumming cans after him. He would temporally stop and try to chase us back. That was how we lived, until Tataa disappeared from the town.

Although many people cooked explanations about his disappearance, none could boldly claim to know his whereabouts.

I kept wondering where Tataa might have gone. I still recollect vividly with nostalgia how during one of the Christmas celebrations Tataa visited us in our home. I sensed he was burning with hunger, after my mother served him with rice and stew she prepared. I had honestly wanted to eat from the same bowl with him but for the stern look, I advised myself and reluctantly revised my plan.

At my friends house, bowls used to serve Tataa were discarded to save the family from the possible contraction of his ‘mental disease’. I was shocked to realise how one woman bathed him by pouring soapy water on him for apparently entering the house uninvited. The shameful treatment I believe was one such incidence which perhaps drove Tataa away.

In fact I was never pleased with such treatment but it clearly showed how unfair we might have related to people with mental disability, physical challenges, cured lepers and even albinos in our society.

The Silent Social Stigma of neglect

There is no doubt we are created by one God who is eternally good and in discriminatory and extends His love and care to all His creation. As a society aimed at improvement, growth and development, it is surprising that many of us continue to perpetuate this discriminatory acts against Persons with Disability (PWDs). This silent stigmatisation is unfortunately ingrained in our social strata in very loud manner, killing the moral and self-esteem of many PWDs in the country.

Although there have been certain awareness campaigns in the past, there is still more to be done, especially in sensitising people about the essence of caring for the PWDs, especially those without homes.

Tataa vanished from the town and no one could trace his whereabouts. His case might be one of few mentally challenged people abandoned and neglected by families, community, society and the nation at large.

In our cities today, the likes of Tataa roam our streets freely, sometimes naked or wearing tattered clothes and living on the pavements or some slums, as if no one cares. At times, I sit back and wonder whether they have relatives. And if they had, why have they left them to roam the streets and sleep in the open. My conscience pricks me and I feel there is some serious disservice we are doing to ourselves as members of society which whittle away our claims to hospitality and God fearing, peace loving people and a religious nation. I never intend to pass judgement but rather propose a reflection on our attitude.

It is only human to associate with the affluent, successful and healthy individuals in a society, in order to engender a mutual relationship of "you scratch my back I scratch yours" symbiotic relations. But as a nation I would like to know whether we are actually fulfilling our religious and socio-cultural obligations to our disadvantaged compatriots?

Does the nation really care for them? Is it the Department of Social Welfare that is responsible for these people, if not then who? How do we properly integrate them into our society after they have been healed at our psychiatric hospitals?

The better we understand that we are all one people and must work together to improve upon our lot the better it would serve our collective interest. We have a role to play to ensure that we extend help, affection and love to these neglected folks on our streets. Whether we like it or not they are a part of our society and no matter how shabbily they may be, the regrettable truth is that they are still a part of us. Dissociating and detaching ourselves from them (poor, physically, mentally challenged) is tantamount to betraying our societal obligation as citizens of the same country.

This discrimination is present in our various places of worship. Sometimes I wonder whom we are pleasing by occasionally presenting some foodstuffs to inmates of orphanages but neglecting the very ones in front of our houses and on our streets. I am not against the idea of feeding and clothing the needy but I think there is more we can do as a people to help alleviate their plight.

Psychologically, living with them can be very irritating but it is a virtue of advancing our religious kindness to them that should anchor our motive of helping them. Many of them may genuinely be hungry but the most important thing they need more is a sense of feeling loved and cared for by others.

Some children even feel shy to associate with them, because most adults are unconsciously teaching them to do so. It should be possible for those of us healthy to extend the care and affection to them and not just neglect them as the case has always been.

We have more we can offer them than just giving them alms of some token amount in the name of enhancing our ‘Corporate Social Responsibility’ but as a matter of assisting our fellow brothers and sisters who had to live like that. In fact, that we are begotten from one creator indicates that we have to relate with them as one of our kind and accord them the very basic rights we always seek to fight for.

Conclusion

Tracing the cause of the rigid stigma in our society would be another topic for another discussion. However, our priority should be directed at identifying how best we can collectively ‘kill’ the almost impossible social stigma against our brothers and sisters.

Creating systems and institutions to cater for PWDs may be a costly venture but improving upon those institutions involved in catering for their needs, healing and ensuring their proper integration into our society would be beneficial to the country, as most of them could be trained to acquire skills that would equip them to work and thus boost productivity of the country’s economy in the long-run.

As we all aspire to live better lives, we must also help others especially the underprivileged to see how beautiful life is. It is only by doing so that we can all contribute to harness their worth in the society, rather than see them as unfit and burdensome liabilities.

One unfortunate thing is that the social stigma tends to blind the so-called able bodies from seeing the talent in some of them. Neglecting or disregarding PWDs or writing them off in our quest for economic development, would be suicidal and a dent on our image as a people claiming to be among the world’s most hospital country. What a grave contrast in our national psyche.

The Disability Act and Mental Law will come to nothing if we fail to accept PWDs as part of our society and accord them the needed respect and care.

We owe it a duty to let them live a dignified life and guarantee their safety. We must therefore accept them as a part of humanity, invite them into our homes, and cater for their needs and gradually integrate them into our society of ‘NORMALCY’.

First posted on www.publicagendaghana.com/index.php on Tuesday May 17,2011