Driving through Kumasi’s industrial outskirts in Ghana, a behemoth billboard looms over the highway forcefully advertising the sale of ‘Turn the Other Cheek Glycophosphate’.
Just beyond it lies ‘King of Hosts Funeral Catering Services’ and – invitingly for shoplifters – ‘Forgive and Forget Metallic Plumbing Products’. Goofy is the inappropriate mascot for ‘My Redeemer Lives Fast Foods’ and, as a reminder, ‘Remember the Sabbath Cement Mixers’ looks to consolidate your home as well as your place in heaven. A local stadium promotes the inevitably one-sided match between the terrifyingly named ‘Ashanti Warriors’ and the almost certainly crap ‘Forgiveness FC’.
This kind of fervent Christian evangelism may be off-putting to many people. But those are not the people who have lacked a lie-in for three months travelling through Islamic Africa. For such people, Jesus’ name has never looked sweeter. Or quieter. Or less French.