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A few days ago (for that’s how it feels like), you had to eavesdrop on the conversation of a bunch of drunk horny unmarried men to hear about sex. You had to get the corner booth of an obscure internet café a bus-ride from your town, close to midnight to feel ‘safe’ enough to visit a porno website. You had to get stranded in town to chance upon a prostitute at Circle or the Akuffo Addo round-about in Cantoments. You could freely use dictionary words like ‘come’, ‘penetrate’ ‘blue’ ‘balls’ ‘dirty’ ‘eat’ ‘prick’ ‘cock’ doggy’ ‘pussy’ and ‘wet’ without the worry of being misunderstood. Those were the good old days (relatively).

Now it is in the jokes we laugh at, in the songs we dance to, in the interesting chats we have, in the good movies we watch, in the statuses we update. It’s in the lifestyles of our mentors, in our favorite books, on billboards and banners. Tell me, what on earth is a horny-looking half-naked curvaceous woman doing on a fruit juice billboard? An active sex life has become a badge of honor, an indication of ‘whassupness’, of being contemporary.

Sexual innuendos and subtleties have become the tenets of exciting memorable conversations. Friends-with-benefits is fast becoming in vogue. The detachment of emotional obligations from making out et al, has made sleeping around and kissing the person behind door number ummnn…3! as meaningless as faithless Christianity.

The thing that so easily corrupts our spirits is now hidden in plain sight, is silently ghetto blastering, has gotten bolder than a spoilt rich kid with a feeling of entitlement. Our white garments are so stained, but we’ve rationalized them into fashionable polka dot attires, so that our consciences are free. That’s whassup.

We’ve imbibed, consumed, assimilated, tolerated and condoned lustful stuff so much so that we’ve been socialized to see it as normal. So what’s the big deal with a girl kissing another? Is it a boss sleeping with his secretary that you haven’t seen before? Are you serious? You haven’t ever watched a sex clip? What’ve you been watching, cartoon network? Even that one sef, ‘Family guy’, is mature enough.

We’ve normalized it to the point where we even analyze scripture from compromised perspectives. Take the Garden of Eden story for example, some boys boys were having a ‘Bible study’ about it and guy 1 says to the rest “I don’t get Adam you know, how on earth could he have chosen apples over nipples? If I was he, mankind would never have fallen; I’ll never see nipples and apples then reach for the apples!”

The chains that we can’t see, have us bound tightest. The fact that we have eyes but cant see the magnitude of the mud we’re swimming in makes us even more fitting members of the Society for the blind. The seductive intrigue of a fling and its leanings are the signs of a fast-depleting moral fiber.

In the strictest sense of the words purity and righteousness, we’re rubbish. I know because when I look around in this messy bin, I see you and just about all our friends. And you know why our situation is more saddening? It’s because we know, we know that if we abide in His word, the things of the world will not appeal to us. We know that when we have on the full amour of God, we’re immune to carnal infections. But in spite of all this knowledge, we’re treating the pearls of life and His grace like pigs would. C’est bon?non!

We’ve got to get our acts together people, this broad road is confusing us with the narrow one. Cant you see its too darn comfortable? Lust is masquerading as a harmless joke, as a stringless fling, as emotionless sex, as naughty status updates, as short sex scenes in otherwise good movies, as modern disses insults. Further down this road is the inevitable lowering of standards and compromising of principles, culminating in the truncation of an erstwhile fruitful walk with the Holy Spirit. A sad end to such a promising story.

Don’t you see that when you do wrong you don’t feel like you have the moral right to correct another? Maybe a word of caution could have returned him to his senses, saved her life, but you’re so tangled up in your lust-induced mess that you give him a ‘thumbs –up’ for something he should be scolded for.

So since we know what’s right, what’s the way out? Can we decide not to laugh at sex jokes? Can we in fact skip it altogether when we see where it’s heading? Can we return to ‘Wo y3 papa?’ Are you correct? And leave the ‘Fucks’ and ‘Screw yous’ alone? Can we take some time to just look at ourselves through God’s eyes? You know, the way He says we’re part of a royal priesthood, a chosen generation, a peculiar people, called and sanctified by His blood, set apart for greater works, lights of the world and salt of the earth, empowered to triumph over snakes and scorpions (both literally and metaphorically), can we do that?

Can we just conduct reality checks from time to time and see if we’re living by our true identities or by some cheaper, perverted version of it? Maybe if we do, we’ll develop a sense of urgency that will drive us from the thief of life to the source of it. Will you give it a shot?

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