The December flood

What is the real flood threatening our humanity today, and what are the realistic ships capable of saving us?

Does the digital era foster a new kind of prophecy? As we observe the current global landscape, we see ancient human fears merging with modern technology. Faith in prophecy outside its historical context often inspires doubt, yet certain digital phenomena impose their presence with immense force. The mobile phone has established itself as an unprecedented tool of influence, transforming algorithms into sources of spiritual certainty for many.

Consider the story from Ghana involving a young man named Ebo Noah. He proclaimed his prophecy and began constructing giant wooden ships, reminiscent of Noah’s Ark. Through TikTok, he gathered hundreds of thousands of followers, announcing a great flood for December 2025. The scale of this movement is striking: nearly one million followers on the platform, and about 380,000 people preparing to board those ships. Many followers sold their homes and possessions, driven by a desperate search for salvation. Ghanaian authorities intervened, arresting him for spreading false news, yet his release only strengthened his influence. He later claimed the absence of the flood proved divine mercy, turning a failed prediction into a grand celebration.

What drives such movements? The transition of spiritual authority from established institutions to the digital devices in our pockets is a major factor. TikTok, though designed for entertainment, has become a pulpit for apocalyptic messages. Algorithms, seeking engagement and excitement, amplify specific voices above millions. The small screen acts as a temple, followers form a virtual congregation, and digital interactions become daily rituals. This shift weakens traditional religious authority based on knowledge and history. Any individual with charisma and an understanding of viral content can now claim a connection with the absolute.

The socio-economic dimension remains the beating heart of this drama. Decisions to sell homes and surrender property occur in societies suffering from fragile living conditions and a lack of future prospects. Despair becomes a tradable commodity. When the present feels heavy and the future appears dark, any promise of salvation, regardless of its nature, becomes attractive. Surrendering possessions expresses an illusory liberation from life’s burdens, giving individuals a sense of control over their destiny through sacrifice.

The physical construction of the wooden ships carries meanings beyond mere engineering. Moving from an abstract idea to a tangible structure represents a decisive step in fixing a belief. Symbols become visible reality. These ships stand as material witnesses for those wishing to believe, providing a sense of validity to the leader’s claims. In the age of the image, such scenes become powerful propaganda tools, moving faith from an internal state to an external, shareable digital event.

Official reactions, involving arrest and release, invite reflection on how modern states handle unconventional religious phenomena. Arresting such figures can transform them into victimised symbols, while a quick release might appear as hesitation. States face a dilemma: protecting people from exploitation while maintaining freedom of belief. This tension represents a fundamental challenge in our digital age.

The most sensitive moment occurs when a prophecy fails. Reinterpreting disappointment as a victory is a clear survival strategy. Collective psychology seeks to preserve faith at any cost. Under this logic, the power of faith is seen as the factor that changed the course of events, preventing the disaster rather than merely surviving it. This strengthens group cohesion and deepens isolation from the wider society.

In the end, the wooden ships still stand in Ghana, possessions remain sold, and the world continues its course. However, the illusion that reason easily triumphs over superstition has suffered a deep shock. Superstition renews itself, wearing the dress of the modern age. The true task involves asking a serious question: What is the real flood threatening our humanity today, and what are the realistic ships capable of saving us?