“Hosanna Today, Hammer and Nails Tomorrow”
A Satirical Chronicle from the City That Couldn’t Make Up Its Mind, etc.)
Jerusalem, springtime. The sun was shining, the streets were buzzing, and the palm fronds were flying faster than rumors at a Pharisee picnic.
There He was—Jesus of Nazareth—rolling into town on a donkey, like some kind of messianic celebrity. It was quite the entrance. The people threw down their cloaks and waved their palms like first-century foam fingers, chanting “Hosanna!” as if they were welcoming a divine rock star on tour.
“He’s the one!” cried Shlomo the Sandal-Maker. “Saw him raise a guy from the dead—swear on my goats.”
“Definitely the Messiah,” muttered Miriam, who hadn’t seen a decent miracle since Moses.
Anna, the widow, added saying “he even walks on water”
For a moment, Jerusalem was agreed, even unified. Fishermen stood beside tax collectors. Pharisees clenched their teeth in grudging applause. Even Barabbas paused from his revolutionary schedule to squint at the spectacle. And Jesus, humble as ever, offered smiles, cryptic metaphors, and not a single military strategy.
Fast-forward five days, and Jerusalem was about as loyal as a Roman coin in a temple donation box. By Thursday, the mood had shifted. The same crowds who had screamed “Hosanna!” were now muttering “Hold on a minute.” The whispers grew: “He’s not overthrowing Rome?” “Where are the thunderbolts?” “All he did was flip tables and insult the clergy.” Talk about unmet expectations.
By Friday, things took a turn for the operatic.
“Crucify him!” they shouted, led by a crowd who apparently mistook “love your enemies” for “collude with Pontius Pilate.” The very people who’d crowned him with cries of glory now watched as he was crowned with thorns. The palms were gone, the cheers forgotten, and the cloaks were likely being dry-cleaned of messianic residue.
In record time, the city pulled off history’s most efficient public opinion reversal. One minute Jesus was King of the Jews, the next he was Public Enemy #1. Pilate, ever the politician, washed his hands and let the people have their democracy: a choice between a healer and a known insurrectionist. Naturally, they picked the guy with more edge.
And so, with stunning conviction and stunningly short memory, the crowd sealed their vote with a hammer and nails.
Moral of the story? Never trust a crowd with palm branches—today’s “Hosanna” is tomorrow’s hashtag for crucifixion.
Such is the nature of man, decidedly undecided, flailing in the hurricane of life, opting for the convenient, no matter at whatever cost.
Ghana too has seen her “Messiahs”, who too were applauded with aplomb and hurriedly denied, all their good works denigrated and their history, corrupted. So much that, all legacies left by these “Messiahs” have fallen on ‘dead soil’. Today’s leaders now talk about said “messiahs” as though they were but charades and made no impact on the development of our dear nation. And we sit by, dead silent, while their toil is disrespected, their legacies maligned and memories of them sullied.
We might as well be joining in their crucifixion, at least that has the added if highly unlikely possibility of a resurrection.
By Kasise Ricky Peprah
The Siriguboy
Happy Easter – 2025
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