Accra, Ghana, for more than 50 years, Kwasi Kokuro Gyakye Amo has walked a path that echoes the silent struggles of countless Ghanaians.
His story begins like many others: born with promise, driven by hope and determined to succeed. Yet, year after year, the doors of opportunity seem to open halfway, only to slam shut in his face.
“I’ve struggled for 40 years,” Kwasi says, his voice quiet yet firm, carrying the weight of a lifetime of unanswered prayers and failed ventures.
“I’ve done everything I thought would work, started businesses, prayed endlessly and made sacrifices.
I even sought help from the most powerful spiritual sources in Ghana.
But somehow, the breakthrough never came.”
At 52, Kwasi had come to terms with disappointment.
But six years ago, everything changed, not in his circumstances, but in his understanding of what he was truly up against.
Soul-shaking dream
One night, Kwasi had a dream that still burns brightly in his memory.
In that dream, he stood before Yehoshua -Jesus Christ Himself, who held a golden sceptre in His hand.
Without speaking, Yehoshua placed the sceptre in Kwasi’s hand and said, “I give you the whole of Ghana, its gates, its money and its wealth.”
Then, in a moment so profound that it defied reason, Yehoshua knelt before him, symbolically passing authority into his hands.
“When I woke up, I knew this wasn’t an ordinary dream,” Kwasi recalls softly.
“I felt as if Heaven itself had commissioned me for something beyond my understanding.
But I didn’t know what it meant or how to make it real.”
Searching in wrong places
Two years ago, desperate for answers, Kwasi turned to one of Ghana’s most feared deities.
The priest promised him that within a year, his life would change.
He followed every instruction, offered every sacrifice and waited in faith.
But 15 months later, nothing had improved. In fact, his struggles had worsened.
Then one night, something strange happened.
“The deity appeared to me in a dream,” Kwasi says, pausing momentarily.
“He said, ‘What I did for you did not work.’’
That night, Kwasi realised the depth of his battle. No human priest, ancient altar or physical sacrifice could resolve what was resisting him.
Something greater, something older than his lifetime, was holding the gates of his destiny shut.
Silent battle over Ghana
Kwasi’s story is profoundly personal but speaks to something larger than himself.
Ghana is a nation overflowing with wealth, gold, oil, cocoa, fertile lands and powerful ports, yet millions struggle daily to survive.
This contradiction isn’t simply a matter of policy or governance. For Kwasi, it is spiritual.
He believes Ghana’s inheritance passes through gates—unseen spiritual thresholds through which wealth, opportunity, and influence are released.
However, these gates are heavily guarded by forces that operate quietly behind the veil of history.
Centuries-old covenants, made during times of slavery, colonisation and ancestral worship, still speak today.
They direct resources away from the people who should benefit from them and lock entire generations into cycles of limitation.
“You can work hard,” Kwasi says, “but if the gates remain closed, your sweat won’t translate into wealth.
It’s not laziness or lack of talent. It’s spiritual resistance.”
Invisible gatekeepers
Through years of dreams, prayers and prophetic encounters, Kwasi began to see that certain territorial altars and principalities were behind Ghana’s long-standing economic struggles.
He speaks of ancient deities such as Tano, long associated with the rivers and gold that shaped Ghana’s early wealth.
There’s Antoa Nyamaa, feared for blood sacrifices, whose covenants are believed to enforce cycles of death and delay in many families.
Bosom Pra, connected to river systems and ancestral land inheritance, appears tied to property and generational wealth disputes.
Along Ghana’s coastlines, Mami Wata altars are said to influence maritime trade and foreign wealth flows.
Then there are the principalities that shape systems rather than individuals. Kwasi describes forces such as Mammon, which govern financial structures and contracts; the Python spirit, which suffocates businesses and progress; and the Queen of the Coast, tied to Ghana’s ports and foreign trade agreements.
“Until these forces are identified and their claims revoked,” Kwasi explains, “they keep dictating who prospers and who struggles.
They decide where Ghana’s wealth goes, and it has flowed away from us for too long.”
Hard work isn’t enough
For decades, Kwasi tried everything that society teaches to bring success. But his journey revealed a sobering truth: effort alone cannot unlock what is spiritually sealed.
“You can work three jobs, pray for years and still feel stuck,” he says.
“It’s not laziness. It’s not bad planning. It’s not even about connections. If the gates are closed, you are pushing against an invisible wall.”
This, he believes, is why many Ghanaians, even those highly skilled and educated, find themselves trapped in cycles of delay.
Their destinies are entangled in spiritual verdicts made long before they were born.
Power of the sceptre
Kwasi’s turning point came when he understood the meaning of the dream that had haunted him for six years.
The sceptre wasn’t just a symbol of comfort but a legal decree.
“In Heaven’s courts, a sceptre means authority,” he says with quiet conviction.
“When Yehoshua placed it in my hand, He gave me permission to name the gates, the powers holding them and command release.
The problem wasn’t that the sceptre didn’t work; I didn’t know how to use it.”
Since then, Kwasi has devoted himself to learning how to exercise what he calls scroll-based authority, enforcing Heavenly decrees on Earth.
His approach focuses on naming gates, identifying powers and issuing specific legal decrees rather than vague prayers.
He believes angels act on precise instructions when backed by a recognised scroll mandate.
A call beyond himself
Kwasi insists this is part of a broader national awakening, not just his personal journey.
Ghana’s people are resourceful, gifted and hardworking, yet the nation’s wealth continues to slip through unseen cracks.
He believes a generation of gatekeepers is rising; people called to confront ancient altars and unlock Ghana’s inheritance.
“This is bigger than me,” he says firmly.
“This is about Ghana. It’s about our children and their children.
It’s about reversing centuries of spiritual verdicts and reclaiming what was always meant for us.”
Prophetic hope
Kwasi’s voice carries the weight of struggle and the quiet authority of a man who believes his season of delay is ending.
He speaks of visions where gates swing open and angels deliver scrolls.
He describes moments of deep prayer where he feels the resistance weakening.
“Ghana’s wealth will no longer bypass her people,” he says with unwavering conviction.
“The gates are opening.
The altars are falling silent.
This is the season of restoration.”
For Kwasi, the decades of waiting were not wasted.
They prepared him to hold the sceptre with understanding and use it precisely.
Whether you believe his story or not, one thing is undeniable: he speaks like a man carrying a mandate.
“I was given the sceptre,” he says simply, “and now, I am using it.”
Source: graphic.com.gh/