Otabil Quoted the Bible, and Kontrofi Grabbed His Neck
By Anonymous · 2 November 2026 · Culture
I write with breaking news from the forest: the ancient tale of Kontrofi has been revived. This time it has a bigger budget, a better sound system and a full cast of men in flowing robes.
You will remember the story, Osagyefo. The animals agreed that the ugliest among them would carry the heavy royal drums. Before anyone had looked around, let alone voted, Kontrofi jumped up holding his neck and shouted, “Please, not me, my neck is paining me!” Nobody had called his name. Nobody had even pointed in his direction. His own conscience made the nomination and accepted it on his behalf.
In our village wisdom, when someone says there is a thief in the room, the innocent keep eating their groundnuts, and the guilty quietly start checking their pockets.
Recently, our esteemed General Overseer, Pastor Mensa Otabil, climbed the pulpit and observed that a great many of those parading as “prophets” in Ghana are neither born again nor saved, pointing to their ungodly lifestyles, moral scandals and creative business models. He named no names. He described no altar, no anointing oil, no WhatsApp prayer line with mobile money attached. It was a general observation, released into the air like a church announcement nobody is supposed to take personally.
The funny part, Osagyefo, is that Otabil was not even saying anything new. He was reading from the oldest script in the building. The Holy Book itself warns about false prophets who come in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves, and says, plain as day, that “by their fruits ye shall know them.” That verse has been sitting in black and white for centuries. Otabil only dusted it off and read it aloud.
Yet before the echo of the sermon had left the auditorium, the airwaves were full. Kontrofi himself reached the microphone faster than a tro-tro mate spotting a passenger with a big load. He rained insults on Otabil, accusing him of misbehaving, of fooling, and of trying to “quench the prophetic fire in the country.”
Osagyefo, the comedy is perfect. A man throws a Bible verse into the market square, and a gentleman who was not even mentioned walks over, rubs his forehead, picks up the stone, and announces to the whole market that it has hit him. The drum was not given to him. No committee sat. No ballot was cast. He simply heard a description of the ugliest animal in the jungle, looked in the mirror, and immediately called for a neck brace.
It seems that in our Republic, the surest way to find out who is carrying the drums is not to investigate at all. You just quote the Bible, sit back with your groundnuts, and listen for whoever screams loudest that his neck is paining him.
So long,
Ato KD