Now we know the real story behind Bob Thiel's self-appointed prophet status. Besides bringing him perceived recognition that he would otherwise not get, he is in it for the money. If he can con his Caucasian members into believing he is a prophet they will hand him more money. Of course, this fits in really well with the African followers he has conned. While not able to give him a lot of money, they kowtow to his prophet status as the Great White Bwana set aside by God before the foundations of the world were laid in place. As long as he can con them into believing he was preordained to come in the end times to deliver a message, he has a captive audience. Thankfully 99.99% of present-day COG members and former members know him to be a liar. Making dumb half-assed "predictions" sure beats the hand-flailing seat-bouncing sermons he delivers.
Bwana Bob is sure to start screaming persecution when Ghana and Nigeria start putting the brakes on his ambiguous prophetic lies. We probably shouldn't be too concerned with Bwana Bob because he is NOT a major religious figure.
Behind Africans’ Thirst for Prophecy; Confusion About the Present and Anxiety About the Future Blog Post by Ebenezer Obadare February 3, 2022 4:33 pm (EST)
Late last year, the Ghana Police Service issued a statement in which it warned those it referred to as “doomsday prophets” to desist from prophesying or face prosecution and a term of imprisonment of up to five years. It reminded the Ghanaian public that “it is a crime for a person to publish or reproduce a statement, rumor or report which is likely to cause fear and alarm to the public or disturb the public peace, where that person has no evidence to prove that the statement, rumor or report is true.” The statement stirred a heated debate, with not a few commentators wondering how a prophecy—an event that has yet to occur—can be shown to be “true,” and whether a threat by law enforcement is the best strategy to deal with an issue that, technically speaking, lies beyond the purview of the law. Nonetheless, many shared the authorities’ concern about growing public faith in prophetic statements by major religious figures and in the figures themselves.
Ghana is not the only African country where prophecy has ruffled the social matter. In Nigeria, where Pentecostal pastors similarly enjoy tremendous social prestige, the end of the year and the beginning of a new one, understandably a time of anxiety for many families, tends to be dominated by pastoral proclamations on what to expect in the New Year. Such prophecies typically cover the gamut: from extreme weather events to untold airplane crashes, winners of forthcoming elections and major sporting tournaments, tragedies involving members of the political elite, and the fate of the economy—domestic and global. With a few exceptions, they tend to be as broad and as ambiguous as possible.
The article also says this:
The deliberate ambiguity of most prophecies is a matter of prudence, for a precise prophecy is an invitation to trouble, especially if such fails to come to pass.
This accurately describes Bwana Bob. Cowardly to the max, he makes all of his "statements" as ambiguous as possible because he is afraid of making a real stand.
The article then goes on to describe why Bwana Bob finds a fertile field for his looniness and why so many accept his wackiness unconditionally:
What explains the increasing popular fascination with prophecy across Africa, mishaps such as the foregoing notwithstanding?In the first place, prophecies, tracking the Pentecostal explosion of the past three decades, speak to popular perplexity amid an acute and persistent hunger for meaning. For many people, prophecies regarding strange deaths, inflation, starvation, and political stability resonate precisely because these are matters of pressing and ongoing concern. In this sense, prophecies function as a kind of social text, useful for keeping track of where the shoe pinches the rump of civil society. A prophecy concerning migration makes sense in a country like Nigeria where emigration provides an out for young people who increasingly feel stuck.Nor is belief in prophecies separable from trust in their purveyors, the ubiquitous Men of God who, as I argue in my forthcoming book on the subject, have stepped into the vacuum created by the degradation of higher education and the retreat of the intelligentsia from public life. As yesterday’s Man of Letters has ceded his authority to today’s Man of God, informed economic forecast and political analysis have given way to pastoral prognostication. To be a respected Man of God in many parts of Africa today is to exist almost beyond law or sanction. Erstwhile university academics who morphed into Men of God, Adeboye and Olukoya enjoy social respect approaching sanctification.An intelligentsia in retreat is just a part of the problem. Historically negligent of common welfare, the state remains largely absent from many people’s lives, visible only when it mobilizes violence—a capacity that, as it happens, it can no longer claim absolute monopoly over. In varying degrees, the state’s traditional role has been assumed by sundry nonstate and religious entities, which explains why pastoral power and its announcements have become more relevant to the public than state power. One way in which the pastorate lays claim to legitimacy is through prophetic proclamations, and the scarier those proclamations, the greater the Man of God’s control of the public’s imagination. Hence Ghana’s “doomsday prophecies.”Finally, growing uncertainty—about politics, the economy, life itself—heightens the thirst for prophecy. When the only certainty that people have is that things will get worse, prophecy can offer assurance that their situation is not beyond redemption.
In seeking to regulate prophecy, the Ghana Police Service is not so much wrong as it is misguided. The problem is not that there are “doomsday prophecies.” The issue is that the distrust of the state and other secular authorities is so deep, people would rather take their chance with prophets. They have nothing to lose but their credulity.
In another article:
Church ‘prophets’ prey on Africans eager for better lives
by Stella Mapenzauswa | 7 Dec 2020 | Africa
"Many Africans see religion as a path to prosperity. Self-professed prophets are soliciting church donations that bankroll their own lavish lifestyles."
"One key difference is the African churches are apt to accept supernatural experiences such as prophecy, miracles and healing, increasing their appeal to those Africans who embrace centuries-old traditional beliefs even while embracing Western-style religion."
Another reader sent this to me:
Economics of Ministry: Africa’s freelance prophets are breaking free of denominations by Nyasha Bhobo Baptist News Globa
Zikode Phiri calls himself a freelance prophet. He has just completed a tour of France and Britain for private prayer clients—laying on hands, casting out demons, and interpreting dreams for those who have paid for his visa and flights from more than 7,000 miles away. “Where I hail from in Zambia, it’s easier nowadays to earn good money as a prophet than pastor,” he explained. Phiri says affluent émigrés from his native Zambia bought him a plane ticket and hotel accommodations and lavished him with an allowance to spend four weeks in France and Britain. The anticipated $3,000 he’ll net off this trip—plus gifts like pricey shoes—dwarfs his earnings in Zambia, where he previously worked as a Methodist pastor. “It’s possible because there is now a huge Zambia diaspora presence in the UK, and they need the prophetic services from someone African, similar to them, and that’s me,” Phiri explained. But the Methodist, Baptist, Lutheran, and Presbyterian churches prophet-pastors like Phiri grew up in and trained with sometimes restrict such prophetic work. One can be suspended for interpreting dreams, casting out demons, or giving out holy water, Phiri said. So he quit. The constraint of traditional denominational oversight groups was also too much for Jimayi Ntokozo, a former Baptist pastor from Zimbabwe who now spends three months a year in the south of England offering prophetic services to émigré families. “The interesting thing is although they might be Baptists, Methodist, or Presbyterian in their everyday faith—secretly they hunger for evangelical-style prophetic services,” Ntokozo said. “Hence, they hired me as a freelance prophet in their private capacity as families. It is better money for me.” In southern Africa, traditional denominations enforce bans on prophetic expressions as a way to differentiate from other evangelical groups. “The real reason is to separate these denominations from evangelicals in these countries. Evangelicals are popular for mass, open-air prophetic services, and gifts. The Methodists, Baptists, Lutheran, or Presbyterians can’t compete in style and numbers,” said Rishon Muganga, pastor of Zion Christian Church, one of southern Africa’s biggest independent churches, where prophetic expressions are a huge identity. Across countries including South Africa, Mozambique, Zambia, and Malawi, the job of prophet-pastor commands huge, feverish followings and can earn one serious wealth if they are thought to possess prowess in predicting events, interpreting dreams, or healing ailments. Ntokozo said old-school denominations across southern Africa must relax their ban on prophetic expressions or they will continue to lose ministry talent when pastors opt to become freelance prophets. With the economy being what it is, ambitious pastors believe their only option is to quit the denominations and earn a living traveling the world. “I wanted to be a full-time pastor in the Methodist church I trained with, but the salaries are pitiful,” Phiri said. “The pull of flying around the world as a freelance prophet is hard to resist. Plus, I enjoy being a prophet.”
Also, see:
THE PROBLEM OF FALSE PROPHETS IN AFRICA
STRENGTHENING THE CHURCH IN THE FACE OF A TROUBLESOME TRENDProphets whose intentions are self-centered or evil have been around since biblical times (Matt 7: 15-20; Acts 13: 6-12; 2 Pet 2: 1-3; Jer: 29:9). Three things distinguish a genuine prophet from false:
- A genuine prophet is often trained through a long and proven relationship with God.
- Their conduct does not contradict the Word of God (1 John 4:1-3).
- Their predictions come to pass and often lead to good outcomes in society, particularly in the interests of the poor and marginalized (Deut 18:20-22; Num 23:19; Ezek 33:33; 1 Sam 3:19. 2 Chron 18:13 and Matt 24:35).
As you can see Bwana Bob does not meet any of these three criteria.