Pastor packed his anointing in a Ghana-Must-Go!
He stamped his passport with holy oil,
And flew to Toronto,
To plant revival
Among the snow and silence.

But in Canada,
Nobody fell down when he shouted “Fire!”
They just checked the smoke alarm.
And went back to sipping coffee.

In Norway,
He tried to declare “Receive your car!”
But they already had buses
That came every ten minutes
With heaters,
With soft seats,
With no demons in the engine.

He screamed, “Your landlord will favour you!”
But they looked confused
“What is landlord?”
They have houses on mortgage,
Paid over thirty years,
No prayer points attached.

He said, “Sow a seed and receive a visa!”
But they already had passports
That walk into over 180 countries
Without queue,
Without fasting,
Without fire night!

Oh, child of the ghetto revival,
What will you prophesy
To a people with working health care?
There’s no altar call for cancer
They have chemotherapy.

No need for anointing on their CVs
Jobs are based on skill,
Not oil-soaked handkerchiefs.

He tried to shout “Delay is not denial!”
But the trains
Arrived on time.

Ah!
Pastor grew thin in Berlin.
He could no longer charge gate fee for God.
The prayer line was empty.
The offering basket was dry
For the people had no devourer to rebuke.

In Lagos, he shouted, “Your helper will locate you!”
But in Finland,
The system is the helper.
There are no destiny helpers
Only documents.

In Abuja, he laid hands for promotion,
But in Amsterdam,
They filed HR complaints.

Oh, Prophet of the Exported Gospel!
Your tongue is strong in the dust of Apapa,
But it trembles in the cold air of Geneva.
For your message is tied
To the hunger in the land!

You preach hope
Because the system failed.
You market miracles
Because policies are wicked.

You sell healing
Because hospitals are sick.
You sell speed
Because there is no infrastructure.

You shout for favor
Because justice is absent.
You prophesy wealth
Because salaries are tears!

But in nations where the system works,
Your “Mantle of Speed” is unnecessary.
They don’t need speed
They need safety,
They need laws,
They need buses that stop at every child’s school.

Ah, Pastor!
Where is your power
When society is sane?
Where is your altar
When the people are not afraid?

Your anointing is allergic
To working governments.

So you return to Lagos
Where the potholes need prayer,
Where the traffic jams need tongues,
Where everything broken
Can become a sermon.

There, you are god again.