PRECARIOUS EXISTENCE

The gradually glowing light of the sun made a perfect gaze on my countenance,


Slowly, my invisibly imprisoned eyes felt emancipated,

I stretched, yawn, and felt quite disappointed,

I thought taking a nap in the full glare of the transient moon would bury my problems and challenges,

This is unseemly, I rattled at nature,

Even under a cumulus cloud, struggle is inextricably interwoven into life’s transcendentals,

From selling on the streets to unprotected prostitution in brothels,

From striving to crawl and walk in one’s formative years to balancing of one’s life,

From fighting crime to providing basic amenities,

From political rebuttals in Accra to chieftaincy disputes in Gushegu,

Myriad of froms and tos are inextricable in this momentary environment,

We live in a precarious existence indeed.

PREFERENCE TO LEARN THE HARD WAY

Most often, when we are confronted with several alternatives, we tend to be more inclined to choose the ones that would bring us immediate gratification, ignoring its serious consequences in the future, which, could be either imperceptible or a nonsense to us. At school, some students take their studies less seriously until a big failure hits them in their final exams. At the workplace, an employee would continue to be lackadaisical and indifferent to company progress until s/he gets fired. This evolving phenomenon can be seen in the recent torrential rainfall that killed about 35 people and rendered others either injured or homeless or both.


A couple of months ago, the Metropolitan authorities embarked on a demolition exercise to uproot all buildings erected on water-logged areas. Lots of people protested against this action and branded the authorities as uncaring and malevolent. But after the rains, the actions of the authorities had been justified. Even one of the victims of the floods confessed that if she had heeded to the directive of the authorities earlier, she would have escaped the mess. It is quite heartbreaking to see people sitting, even sleeping on top of their buildings talkless of the human lives and properties that have been destroyed in the floods.

There would always be a second chance, but it comes with a price to pay. For instance, it very difficult to tell when a notorious liar is telling the truth. Now, those who refused to listen to the advice of the Town Planning authorities are now facing the consequences, something they could have prevented earlier.

The recent floods also strip the camouflage on our poor drainage system and the concerned authorities must address it immediately.

ADVICE TO THE BLACK STARS

Last Sunday, the black stars of Ghana put on an absolute-mind-blowingly-astounding performance against the Serbians. And of course, they proved a lot of sceptics, including myself, very wrong. I must confess that this is the first time i’ve seen tactical discipline, teamwork and a great sense of professionalism in the team especially in the absence of key players like Muntari, Essien, Laryea Kingston, etc. We are and shall always remain the shining star and a glowing hope to the entire African continent. However, I have some advice for our players.


First of all, lot of concerns have been raised by some goalkeepers with respect to the Adidas-manufactured ball (Jabulani) for this particular world cup; that it’s too light and somewhat slippery. The credibility of this criticism was verified when I watched the game between the USA and England, specifically on the occasion where the light-shot ball slipped past the hands of Green, the England goalkeeper, straight into the net. Against this background, the black stars should capitalise on this and shoot at long distances.

Secondly, the stars must not allow complacency to set in; it is a debilitating phenomenon to sustaining first class excellence. We must put behind the fact that we’re the first African team to win in the group stages. I’m advising that the players together with the technical bench should be very discreet in analysing and estimating our opponents. Though we drew with Australian, we should focus ahead and beat the Germans.

Give me freedom, give me justice, give me Ghana, and give me black stars. When I get Black stars, I would be stronger, because we are good, just like the waving flag.

AN INDELIBLE STAIN ON FATHERS DAY

Lots of resounding déjà-vu and display of gratitude echoed in the air when mother’s day was celebrated, but on father’s day, silence! How ungrateful? The fact that we celebrate our mothers at a certain point in time doesn’t signify that all mothers are caring, nurturant and responsible because there are some who are treacherous, irresponsible and nagging-some. Thus, in the same way, we can’t hastily conclude that because Oko refused to pay his son’s fees, then all other fathers are the same.


It is very important that I share some tactics women used and other reasons why most fathers appear to be irresponsible.

1. There is a saying that it’s only women who know the actual father of their children. And of course, they are the type who can flirt under your own roof without you, even smelling a rat. So some men upon verifying their wives moves with other men tend to doubt the paternity of their children and in essence, shun their responsibility. If DNA test was to be compulsory, there is a great possibility that several homes would be teared apart.

2. Also, because men are most often the bread-winners of the home, the pressure to settle unending expenditures break frequent contact with their children, though their actions are geared towards the betterment of the children too. Thus, mothers are usually with the children most of the time. This tendency makes it easy for some mothers, especially the divorced ones to brain-wash the child with all sorts of truthful untruths, and even if they do not do that, the children tend to believe that their mothers are more caring than the fathers. But who works behind the scenes?

3. Moreover, some women make men irresponsible towards their children. Some bombard the men with all sorts of unnecessary expenses ranging from cloth for Auntie Mansa’s outdooring to Mr. Tagoe’s funeral. This puts the men in a difficult position especially those living with the nagging types. In other respects, some half-hearted women snatch married men from their wives and I wonder what they actually show or give to such men that they momentarily become irrational to the extent of even neglecting their children.

I must admit that some fathers are absolutely irresponsible, but let’s a second look to what really makes them irresponsible. We should remember there is no effect without cause. Happy fathers day!

THE STRONG, STRONG FEELING

The transition to adolescence comes with a lot of emotional developments, which if not properly controlled and handled, can lead to disaster. That particular stage beginning from 10 to 19 years comes with wet dreams, crazy interest in the opposite sex, desire to ‘pull the trigger’ or ‘receive the bullets’, etc. I hope you are not saying that i’m spoilt because you are the first spoilt folk if you got the meaning right. That’s just by the way. Though these occurrences are spontaneous (natural), it can be controlled if one truly wants to. The foremost stage of adolescence is puberty. Puberty is a stage of development in the reproductive organs. Of course, when I reached that stage, I stopped bathing outside! Puberty comes with what reproductive experts would call secondary sexual characteristics; in girls, the breasts enlarge, ovulation or menstruation begins, develop wider hips to tease and provoke the guys, and in the boys, there is growth of facial hair, production of sperms, etc. I remember way back in JHS, the class becomes full when we reach this particular topic and everybody begs the teacher implicitly, not to stop.


Failure to control these emotional and physical spontaneous developments can lead to teenage pregnancy, incessant abortions, and even rape. The unpalatable resultants are acquisition of STD’s, early parenting, and the other ones that many teachers would remain silent on, like poor or a disappointed performance on your honeymoon, especially the ladies. My grandma used to tell my female cousins, ‘keep it tight for your husband’. I now understand her. Quite a food for thought there. So, the question is how do we brace ourselves to handle these pulling feelings and unstoppable desires, which I believe is the most difficult examination one can hardly pass?

There is a need to strengthen education on our reproductive organs and its developments. Sometimes, it is ignorance and irrationality that makes people abuse their sensitive organs. Currently, in Britain, a government agency is advocating for an education system where children at the age of five would be taught all about sex. Sex education is very important and I think, it would help prevent many children from checking pornographic sites, reading porn magazines and even experimenting it. I don’t understand why we feel too shy to talk about this delicate issue. It’s like we treat sex like dirt in the open and when we get into our rooms, it becomes gold. Parents should even initiate conversations around those issues when they see the physical changes in their wards. This recommendation would be highly effective for those who currently reached the puberty stage.

Practically, we, adolescents can take certain measures that would enable us to weather the feeling. We must endeavour to share our feelings with trusted colleagues, even if possible, the opposite sexes. In writing this article, i’ve even initiated conversation around those often unspoken issues. This would help us to discuss and gain more insight into both our physical and emotional development. Let me tell you this, it was recently that I got to know that women become equally sexually aroused when they see guys half or completely naked. How did I get to know? Through a group discussion with the opposite sex. No wonder, most guys are now busy exposing their dirty boxers!

Moreover, one must read relevant literature that would enable you to better understand your feeling. I’m referring to literature that would broaden your understanding about physical and emotional changes you are undergoing and not books talking about sexual styles and positions, penis enlargement or vaginal lubricants, etc. Such things are unnecessary-stupid-carnal stuff.

Furthermore, avoid being alone with the opposite sex in a secluded area, lest you bumper-to-bumper. I thank God for certain vital moments in my life when I have no female around me (like there would’ve been a small fellowship). This would sound funny but i’m serious. At times, we feel like we can control ourselves, but I won’t advise such risks to be taken.

We must remember that certain things like sex, that grant instant satisfaction can bring everlasting repercussions if the right approach is not taken. I remember one author saying that sex in itself is not sin, it is the wrong application of it that makes it sin. Get married and you would even retire from it. End of lecture.

AN INTERVIEW WITH JESUS (PART TWO)

This is the latest virtual discussion I had with Jesus concerning certain unpleasant accusations that has been labelled against him. It includes abuse of fundamental human rights and abuse of power against the people in his constituency (earth). As usual, ‘KD’ represents me whereas ‘JC’ represents Jesus. This interview was conducted on Wednesday, June 9th around 0200 GMT when I was fast asleep.


KD: it’s been a while since we met.

JC: oh yes. It would continuously be so if you refuse to pray.

KD: okay, let’s get to the bottom of issues. Your constituency members (humans) are raising some serious charges against you, some premised on the abuse of their human rights and that, you’ve also been arrogant, pompous in your small pair of shoes, and never fail to miss an opportunity to abuse your power. What’s your response to these pressing issues?

JC: As a competent interviewer, I was expecting you to clarify the issues and not pose them ambiguous like that.

KD: is your statement a pre-supposition that you don’t know what’s going on.....in your own constituency (earth)?

JC: of course, what’s their beef?

KD: with due respect sir, these are people you are responsible for and thus, I think it is highly expected of you to go to them and get to know their worries, problems, needs, and so on.

JC: are you insinuating that I never went to the people? That i’ve been irresponsible?

KD: no, not at all, I was just.........

JC: Hold on, hold on. Let me put you on the spot. Have you thoroughly read the universal and official document containing my history, life and achievements?

KD: You mean the Bible?

JC: Yes.

KD: I have. But ....okay. Let’s get to the issues, before you steal my job from me. One of their headaches is that you have this inexplicable manipulative power over their thoughts. They have it that you know what they think about, obviously everything. Isn’t this an intrusion on their privacy?

JC: And what’s the problem with that? Aren’t they my constituency members, after all?

KD: the fact is I somewhat empathize with them and understand their level of umcomfortability. I mean, you know who’s thinking of sex, robbery, murder, etc. Isn’t this serious?

JC: it becomes a problem if I stop them from carrying out their heart-bred intentions. But I don’t though I sometimes try to whisper to some, especially those with devilish and dirty thoughts to desist from materialising their thoughts. But I can’t understand why people are ambivalent to exceptional technologies.

KD: are you calling your action ‘exceptional technology’?

JC: You see, since I no longer have physical contact with my people, I designed this spiritual device called the ‘holy spirit’ to enable me have a fair idea of what goes on in my jurisdiction.

KD: so it’s some kind of spiritual satellite. Point well made. The second issue is why you always expect your people to come to you for solutions that you engage in some kind of armchair leadership. Before you answer that question we are going on a quick trivial break. We will be right back.

Commercial: is Satan and his cohorts hovering around your purse, dreams, actions and tormenting your life. Well, worry no more. Get Abosam tso to whip am. Abosam tso, ma tswa abosam tso kpoti. For bulk purchase, contact J-E-S-U-S.

KD: we are back. Thanks for staying. This interview is by kind courtesy of Abosam tso, ma tswa abosam tso kpoti. Sir, your response to the question I asked earlier.

JC: Ernest, you know something. All through my earthly life and even now, I cherish symbiotic relationship, give-and-take. Of the spiritual devices I invented, one of them was called ‘prayer’ and that one was meant for the people. With that technology, you can contact me in the bathroom, trotro, everywhere. You can take a horse to a stream but you cannot force it to drink.

KD: well, i’ve just received a text message from a listener. Her concern is that reading the Bible to her, is like walking in the depths of serious imperceptible dilemma....it’s too difficult for her to understand. What do you have to say to her?

JC: there are several translations of the Bible. We have the Goodnews version, King James version, Amplified version, etc. So, for now, she should get the one with simple constructions. Hey Ernest, stop thinking about her and concentrate on the interview.

KD: please don’t start with me I beg, i’m a public material. On this note, we draw the curtains. Catch you some other time. Be good and stand firm for God. I’ve signed out.

20th CENTURY EXPERIENCE - GRANDPA RECOUNTS

In contemporary times, I must admit my limitations. I must admit my irrectifiable ignorance of modern technology. I must admit my physical deterioration and my proficiency in forgetting. Do I thus, merit your pity? No, no, no. on the contrary, you rather deserve my pity. I’ve got some classic recollections to tell you. These insightful recollections and super-exciting moments will forever remain in my medulla oblongata. They all transpired in the 20th century. Those were the ‘gone-days’ when my white sparkling teeth remained intact, and I can twist my now fragile waist to James Brown’s ‘sexy machine’ without any kpo-kpla vibes from my muscles. Of course, those were the days when the kokrookoo of the domestic fowls wakes people up and not alarm clocks. Child, I want you to listen attentively as I share my 20th century experience with you.


In those days, medical institutions were very scarce, especially in African countries. Nonetheless, we never crave for such institutions. We relied on the services of indigenous waganga men (medicine men). And I dare not call that improvising. Because they were professional and rarely erred in the discharge of their duties. Against this backdrop, I was born at home. And I must say that I very proud to have alighted in this perishable existence that way. My late mother never underwent pre-natal and ante-natal care prior to my birth but that notwithstanding, she and I never felt sick, malnourished or whatever. You see, that’s why you must understand me when I say that I pity you, because you were born in a fine hospital with rigorous medical treatment here and there, but all the same, you were splashed with illness here and there. This is what I call inexplicable paradox.

The simple question is taking into consideration the grand advancement in medicinal technology, why are some diseases still persisting and new ones are gradually emerging. It appears as if a solution to one problem brings additional two problems. Child, with your 21st century knowledge, kindly liberate me from this confusion?

REASONS WHY WESTERN TELENOVELAS SHOULD BE BANNED

It is not worth contending the fact that western telenovelas have colonized our TV screens. And the sorry aspect of it is that we are all active and shameless confederates in promoting and entrenching this unfortunate trend. Western telenovelas in this respect refers to the likes of Storm over paradise, the Gardener’s daughter, Second chance, etc. Moreover, i’m aware of the cogent arguments relentlessly put across by some ardent viewers of such movies/series. Their strongest point, which I personally deem weak, is that those telenovelas offer certain relationship tips. Phew! My beef is simply that western telenovelas should be outrightly banned and the arguments espoused below justify my position.


Western telenovelas conforms to the romantic script. Romantic script is a prescription that states that so far as people are in love, they can go ahead and test the efficiency of the power stations stationed between their legs. Succinctly put, love is the paramount prerequisite to a sexual encounter. This rubbishes other essential components like marriage, maturity, courtship, family background, attitude and even, STD status. I know for sure that some people would argue that such movies are imaginative and solely meant for entertainment. But hey, we can’t deny the fact that what we hear and see can influence us. That’s what psychologists call observational learning. The point is these telenovelas are inconsistent with cultural values and is gradually tearing the moral fabric of our society apart, wide apart.

Are you surprised at the spurt in pre-marital sex (fornication), adultery, indecent dressing, snatching of spouses and other social traumas? Well, personally i’m not. This buttress the point I raised earlier. These western telenovelas are key engineers in consolidating explicit display of semi and complete nudity in our society. In such telenovelas, you see heavy-provoking breasts gorging out in very, very tight braziers, men with ears, lips, navel and other parts of the body pierced, etc. They simply lack didactics. Didactics refer to a moral lesson contained in a story, prose, or even a movie. I’m tempted to believe the relationship-tip argument when I see married men/women sleeping with the opposite sex in the name of love without any remorse or even later grave repercussions. My goodness, this is serious!

When Nkrumah confidently expressed to a large crowd on 5 March, 1957 at the Polo grounds, that our country is free forever, he failed to caution them against other forms of colonialism; nicely wrapped and packaged intrusion of our sovereignty. Western telenovelas is an aspect of neo-colonialism. According to Wikipedia, neo-colonialism is a term used by post-colonial critics of developed countries’ involvement in the developing world. And like I said in my introduction, we are shameless confederates of this development. Oh yes, I have the guts to say we are. How? By endorsing them, viewing them, discussing them, talking them and neglecting our local serial movies for them. This is absolutely ridiculous!

If you are on my side, then you are lucky and witty dude walking on a positive ground, but if you disagree with me, what are your arguments, dear?

WRONG IMPRESSION (A STORY)

Addo woke up as early as 4. 15 a.m. He could hardly sleep. The lullabies of wailing and sorrow in his father’s compound last night might have sent him to sleep. He rose up and sat down. He was speechless and felt helpless. What crime at all has his father, Torgbor committed against the colonial officials? A day ago, his mother, Edem has explained to him that his father had been arrested for a ridiculous and unthinkable reason. His father would be tried at the Colonial Supreme Court later in the afternoon. He closed his eyes and absorbed the serenity that has engulfed the entire land of Alibab. He was certain that he would be denied that opportunity when dawn breaks, where oppression and tyranny would keep the entire inhabitants of the land company for the fourteen years. He removed the rectangular wood that has barricaded the entrance of his hut, and from a distance, he could see his uncle and other sympathisers who have gathered in their compound. He moved closer to them.


“I said it from the beginning, I said it. That we shouldn’t accommodate these pigs, but how many people listened to me” Addo could now hear their conversation. It was dark and the lantern the conversationists were holding only illuminated their parameters.

“They have bitten more than they can chew. We showed them hospitality and treated them as our own but what did we get in return? Brutality, sheer arrogance and unprovoked rape of our land.”

He left the men and went back to his hut. He is the only son to his parents. His father was a peasant farmer and his mother, a housewife. He used to have wonderful moments with his parents. This arrival of the British truncated his happiness. He lied on his mat and between the sheaves that covered his hut, he could see moon condescending, looking very bright and resplendent.



13.40 GMT -- AT THE COLONIAL SUPREME COURT



The court room was enveloped in hot arguments and cacophony. “We’ve had enough of your stinking imperialism. Get your ducky legs out of our land.” A man among the crowd shouted. The court room came to absolute silence when Torgbor and his counsel appeared. The court is a wooden structure composed mainly of odum with aluminium roofing sheets. The bruises on Torgbor’s countenance signified torture and ill-treatment. The judge to handle the case entered and the noisy atmosphere in the court room subsided. Torgbor’s wife was sobbing uncontrollably whiles Addo stood there, looking directly into his father eyes with trembling. The fate of a husband, father and a village folk is about to be told.

Addo has come to understand that times are against them. After his dad has been unjustifiably convicted of first-degree murder and hanged, with grief transporting his mum to her grave, nothing more can convince him that he and his community are not safe. The irrepressionable memories of fourteen years ago had become part of him. Together with his two friends, Hassan and Frimpong in the woods, they enjoyed the kpalogo dance of the village women. Hassan is a hunter and has been a victim of uncountable break-ups. Frimpong, on the other hand, is much older than the other two and has been both a father and a friend. The three young men have suited each other with a calabash of palm wine. Hassan broke the silence.

“You know, I desperately want to marry Dede. I’m head over heels in the swimming pool of love with her. I understand perfectly that I’m not that handsome and...and.. That’s the more reason why I want to grab her instantly. I can’t stand another man competing with me over her”

Frimpong in a sarcastic tone, bump in.

“What offence at all has the monkey committed to deserve this kind of ordeal?”

“Who are you calling a monkey, what your words, and man?”

“Sorry oo, no offence intended. Go ahead and take her to the altar.”

“Marrying her is the problem. My finances is not that consolidated”

“And do you know what it means? Two things. One, another man can come on the scene. Two, your pants remains padlocked until you satisfy the marriage conditions. I dey feel for monkey ooo.”

Addo who appeared to absent-minded, got into the conversation.

“Hassan, you don’t have to be making unnecessary commotion about this. Listen, if the girl loves you, she would stay with you through thick and thin”.

Hassan whiles pouring for himself another calabash of palm wine from the earthen pot, replied.

“Oh yes Dede loves me. The other time, she fetched water for me and ........”

Frimpong heckled “but she did that after you have sent several tubers of yam to the family. (Chuckled) monkey no fine but I sure sey the girl would love am”. He said this in a tone above the threshold of Hassan. He is really fond of teasing his friend. Sometime ago, he used to say that Hassan had a ‘gbudugban’ (huge bucket) in his stomach which explains why he drinks too much.

“I did that to build rapport with her family”. Hassan defended himself. Addo got up, cleared the debris of cashew nuts on his white calico, and looked around as if being watched by British espionages. He cleared his throat and uttered “Guys, we’ve got to go”.

Hassan, who lives some few kilometres away from Addo’s house, had almost entered his hut when he saw Dede approaching. He saw the sentence “I’m dead” boldly written her face.

“Er, Hassan, what was the meaning of what you did.” Pretending as if he doesn’t know what she’s talking about, Hassan asked “what are you talking about my love?” He moved closer to hug her but she shoved him off.

“Don’t my love me. Bo dietse obuuu ohe ona. Do you think my skin is begging to be caressed by your wretched hands? Why do you have to feign illness and make me, Naa Dede Gengen, fetch water for you?”

“I was just trying to be romantic”

“Tsiakai, well, i’ve come to warn you to stop chasing me around and spreading rumours that I’m your lover. I swear the next time you try this nonsense, you’ll regret it. Hassan, I don’t love you, get that into your head.”

“But what about the foo...foodstuffs I gave to you”. Dede didn’t mind to listen to him. She was already a distance away from him. Hassan stood at the entrance of his hut, not knowing whether to enter or not. In a state of confusion, he yelled.

“You can go away. Are you the only woman in this village? I’m not forcing myself on you, aarhh, not at all. There are more beautiful women past you. Dede, who be you? (Imitating Dede) Hassan, I don’t love you. Stupid. You are very stupid woman.......but whether...you...you like or not, I love you. I love your insults, your harsh treatments, your humiliations and everything about you. (checking himself) but I’m not that bad looking.”

He entered his hut. Within a couple of minutes, he heard several heavy knocks on his wooden door.

“Who’s that?”

“It...It’s Dede. I mean, your love, your sweet heart. Please open the door.”

“Eheh, what’s the problem.”

“Oh Hassan, I’m being chased by a wolf. Please for the sake of our love, open the door. Please, p-l-e-a-s-e.”

“You and who’s love? Sorry, my dear. I’m very sleepy. Come tomorrow so that we talk about it.” Dede broke down into tears. She was fidgeting all over. She continued pleading, “Hassan, please”. The door opened. She ran into Hassan’s arms, placing her head on his chest.

“Did it hurt you, babe?” Hassan inquired, putting his hands around forbidden places under the pretext of trying to identify wounded spots. He told Dede to enter his room whiles he searches for the wolf to kill it... “Aboaa”. He said this after Dede has entered. Only God knows what happened that night.

An important meeting was held in Addo’s compound. Though it was unpremeditated, the gravity of events in the village had necessitated it. A fortnight ago, some people were brutally murdered. The atrocious act was alleged to be effected by British security officers. The meeting between Addo and his aged uncle, Namoale is connected to the unfortunate incident. Addo was preparing to go the farm that very morning when his uncle came in and requested to have a very important discussion with him. Namoale also indicated that he had a confession to make which is related to the trial of Torgbor.



7 hours later

“The weather had been really favourable this season. The gods have been really considerate, considering the incleanable mess created by this obronis”

“sure, you’re right. We’ve also have to give credit to our sacred personages. They’ve tremendously done well to convince the gods to bless us with bumper harvests”. Frimpong paused for a minute, collected small stones from the ground and started throwing them around. He grinned and continued, “The other time I taught your so-called lover a lesson. I never knew she’s that vulnerable.”

Hassan’s countenance became pale, “what did you do to Dede?”

“Make monkey no vex, I didn’t do anything bad. Look, you remember the last time we had palm wine at the woods? Yes, after we’ve dispersed, I detoured through the village market to my house, and then I saw Dede briskly walking past Mami Akua’s shed, so upon seeing her, I decided to give her freestyle for all the humiliations and tough times she’s been giving you. I .....”

“Wait, what do you mean by freestyle?”

“It was just a small freestyle for monkey’s lover, a small animalistic sound. I made the sound of a wolf. That’s all” (laughing) “and come and sees how her drumsticks was ferrying her. (stopped laughing, his face appeared stern) so, what did you do to her when she entered your hut?”

Hassan felt uneasy, he was speechless. Frimpong burst into irrepressible laughter, “Hassan Ogidigidi, Charlie, you force, give me five.”

All of a sudden, the two friends heard footsteps. “Did you hear that?” Hassan asked. “Of course, I heard that, I’m not deaf” Frimpong replied. Then they saw Addo with a furious face together with the village waganga (fetish priest), Namoale, and a couple of other villagers approaching. When they got closer, Addo grinned.

“Guys, i’ve found the man responsible for the death of my father and other villagers”

“That’s good news” Hassan commented.

“Yes, it is. It is very painful and mind-boggling to see a native being instrumental in exterminating his own civilization. Could you believe that my father was set-up? Could you believe that our own, conspired with British officers?” Addo turned to his uncle and told him to continue with the rest of the case. Namoale began to narrate how Torgbor had gone to the farm one day when he the conspirator perspiring profusely, dragging something in a barkcloth, coming to his direction. He continued, “That fateful day, I was also coming from my farm heading home. After exchanging pleasantries with my brother, I enquired what the content in the barkcloth was and he told me it’s possibly foodstuffs belonging to one of our neighbours. I bid him goodbye and left. The next thing I heard was that my brother had been arrested”.

Hassan irately asked, “I feel like killing this person. Who’s that son of a bitch?”

Addo smiled and answered, “The silent one is”. Hassan did not understand, “hey man, I don’t have time for parables. Who’s the cul......” Addo came in before Hassan completed his statement, “yes, I mean, the one closer to you is the son of a bitch!”

In awe and trembling, Hassan turned to the person next to him and incoherently expressed, “Frim....Fr-im—po-ng, you?”

A wrong impression indeed.

HAPPY DEATH

The inevitable and bitter truth man has to come terms with is death. Death is the termination of the human contract on earth and signifies the loss of human status. Is death really painful?


Lose your parents through a fatal accident and the stench of death would envelope you, lose a spouse or lover or a close friend and you would become madly angry with GOD for failing to totally eradicate this irrevocable experience. The occurrence of these painful events cognitively creates a pictorial representation of one aspect of death; how ugly, brutal, diabolic, merciless, inconsiderate and treacherous it is. Another painful aspect of death is when one dies with his/her plans unrealised.

But death puts a vital message across that one should not procrastinate and delay in effecting the changes and righting the wrongs that s/he desires. It constantly reminds us to lead upright and just lives, show love and affection to those who matter in our life, ask for forgiveness from those we’ve offended, and leave a legacy behind. If you love somebody, let the person know. If you admire a beautiful piece of work somebody had done, commend the person. This is important because it is useless to eulogise an expired being, I mean a dead person.

BEAUTY OF AN IDEAL WOMAN

ONE MORNING,


AMIDST THE BREEZE SHOULDERING THE LOVELY FLAMBOYANT FLOWERS,

SIMULTANEOUS WITH THE CHIRPS OF THE BIRDS,

AND THE EVER RESPLENDENT SUNSHINE,

STOOD A FIGURE TO BE TREASURED AND LOVED,

AN EXTRAORDINARY FIGURE TO BE PAMPERED AND CHERISHED,

HER YAWNING EMITS THE BREATH OF EMANCIPATION,

THAT LIBERATES ME FROM THE SHACKLES OF STRESS,

IN HER LONG, STRAIGHT DRESS,

I CAN SEE HER ENVIABLE AND IMMACULATE CURVATURES, CONTOURS AND ALVARO SHAPE,

THAT’S THE BEAUTY OF THE IDEAL WOMAN,



WHEN SHE WAKES,

WITH HER HAIR SCUFFLED,

HER SHINING TEETH UNBRUSHED,

EYELASHES DISORGANISED AND COBWEBS AT THE CORNERS OF HER EYES,

I SEE BEAUTY,

WITH HER MINORING IN MAKE-UP,

MAINTAINING FAILURE IN ARTIFICIAL BEAUTY,

HOLDING FAST TO SOPHISTICATION IN SIMPLICITY,

I CAN SEE HER BEAUTY,

GOING ABOUT HER DUTIES WITH EARNEST ATTITUDE,

NOT COMPROMISING HER OBLIGATIONS AS A DAUGHTER, WIFE, MOTHER, FRIEND,

POSSESSING THE SPIRIT OF BOLDNESS, INDEPENDENCE, AND SENSE OF PURPOSE,

I CAN PERFECTLY SEE BEAUTY.

Ghana together with other countries across the globe, especially other African countries are celebrating the exemplary life and worthwhile contributions of a pan-africanist and former president of our great and interesting country. To show appreciation and respect of his great personality and immense inputs, the nation had awarded a large portion of space for his portrait photograph in our new currency note; the GH 2.


Having read his biography, I realised that Nkrumah made a lot of inputs into our socio-economic development and political emancipation. Working in concert with others, his efforts culminated in the attainment of our independence. To make such astounding strides in the history of the world calls for something transcendental. I believed Nkrumah got infected with something and it is that thing I would like to talk about. That something is AINS – Acquired Immuned Nkrumahist Syndrome.

• ACQUIRED – before Nkrumah made those enviable accomplishments, he went through a lot of learning processes, both academic and non-academic. He acquired ideas, learned from past experiences, and realised the essence of education. We, as the youth of this great country, must start to acquire useful ideas and knowledge to transform and improve our country. We must acquire the principles of selflessness, honesty, love, and entrenched patriotism. We must acquire a great sense of responsibility, respect each other, and imbibe the spirit of cleanliness. We must acquire the urge to fight for our rights, demand accountability and abhor injustice.

• IMMUNED – this aspect points to the act of imbibing into our immune system, elements that would sustain our internal motivation in our quest to self-actualise. It also includes the need to fear and surrender to GOD; to understand that he is the only one who can prepare lavish meals on grand tables for us in the presence of our oppressors, and grant us complete conquest. “We are hard-pressed on every side, yet not crushed; perplexed, but not forsaken; struck down but not destroyed” (2 Corinthians 4.8-9).

• NKRUMAHIST - there is much to be learned from the exemplary life of Nkrumah. As youth of this great country, it is important to emulate the positives and walk in the footsteps of Osagyefo to gain the experience and insight to liberate our country from its persisting socio-economic woes. Of course, I admit the ugly aspect of Nkrumah.

• SYNDROME – what shows that you are infected? Are you patriotic? Do you respect the sovereignty of our great country by standing still and reciting the national anthem upon hearing it? Do you keep your surrounding clean? Do you treat people equally irrespective of their socio-economic background? Well, if you have these and other nationalistic qualities, then you are absolutely infected with AINS.

However, if you test negative, strive to acquire it because it’s non-toxic, reinvigorating and nationalistic. Long live GH.

POLLUTIVE ENUNCIATIONS

The constitution of the republic of Ghana guarantees the rights and freedoms of its citizens, and in essence, a reflection of this magnanimity is premised in the constitution of the republic of Ghana, specifically article twenty-one. It stipulates among others that “All persons shall have the right to freedom of speech and expression, which shall include freedom of the press and other media...” But unfortunately, this constitutional provision had been illogically elongated to encapsulate foul, irresponsible, and explosive expressions.


Irrefutably, we are conscious of the solid fact that our culture and indigenous ideals supplements the provision espoused in our constitution. For instance, it is highly disrespectful of a child to insult an elderly person. Nonetheless, the child is allowed to voice out his feelings and ideas on certain issues. But it seems this cultural element is gradually waning. Just recently, a social commentator at a Kumasi-based radio station called the President a chimpanzee. My heart bleeded with fear when I learnt that he is a teacher by profession. Looking at his irresponsible and unguarded comment vis-a-vis his occupation, I wondered the kind of knowledge he would be imparting to pupils/students he handles. Politics is not about vile disparaging remarks, character defamation, insults and prejudiced sentiments; rather it is about firm grasp of issues and understanding of the needs of the masses so as to come out with executable solutions. Succinctly put, politics is about how you use your head and not your heart. I therefore encourage the youth of this great country to condemn such misdemeanours and not emulate such stinking attitudes of such people.

To be candid, I feel extremely bad when I hear ferocious and unnecessary raucous arguments on our radio stations, where uncensored and scorching vocabularies cocooned in insults swing comfortably on our airwaves. How are we socializing our coming generation and what kind of trend are we establishing on our media? Let’s learn to cogently argue intellectually, factually, and responsibly.

Long live Ghana.

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH, REALLY?

I’ve got to see my Maker to talk to HIM,

Well, I think i’ve got the vim,

Since life’s twists and turns have gone extreme,

My mind is already up at it,

Well, it appears HE is silent about it,

Then, i’ve got to resort to other means,

Enough is enough, really?



I went to see Lucifer for some answers,

In a bid to cool down my reactions,

He gave me quick solutions but with conditions,

Abide by it or break it with serious ramifications,

Here i’m with honey-chloroquine solution,

To better my situation,

But i think he doesn’t deserve my attention,



Now i’m in the corridors of my human folks,

They asked if i was ready to swagger,

To cool down my frustration and anger,

One demanded i take him to sexual paradise to get dough,

Since it takes that to run the show,

So i must be ready to give him blow,

To get my dough,

The other demanded i smuggle some white powder,

So that i would be a Don Dada,

And take whole control of my matter,

This is not my style,

So a big hell no!



Now i’ve got to clear the dirt in my head,

With the Good Book that i read,

To de-accelerate the irrational velocity at which i sped,

A big fat slap i deserve,

But HIS GRACE got me acquitted,



I’ve got a GRACIOUS MASTER to serve,

Sometimes unreasonable haste,

Can turn your precious life into waste,

So it pays to wait!

Enough is enough, really?



HE MAKES ALL THINGS BEAUTIFUL IN HIS OWN APPOINTED TIME. TRUST HIM AND NEVER FIDGET.

MUNDANE NONSENSE

When a fellow Ghanaian cannot speak English, we say s/he is uneducated, but if a British or a German or any ‘white personality’ cannot speak Ga or Twi or Ewe, do we also say s/he is uneducated? If a lady in an executive dress with heavy perfume and make-up mistakenly steps on your toe and a hand-to-mouth kayayoo does the same, would you in all sincerity, react to the two differently or otherwise? Anyway, I would highlight certain grave and heartless treatments some so-called literates and highly-educated people mete out to the uneducated (illiterates).


I’m really passionate about writing this. It is absolutely unfortunate to see how some of us, in diverse ways, subject those who cannot read nor write to emotional and socio-economic traumas. But does education signify wisdom and intelligence? I’m asking this because i’ve seen highly educated people who bath once in a day (not because there is shortage of water), dispose of refuse indiscriminately, live comfortably in dirty environment, and even speak anyhow. The word ‘illiteracy’ is socially defined. Nowadays, people even use the word to insult and discriminate against people. But what’s the difference between the so-called educated person who insults and the illiterate who does the same? Now, let’s work this simple analogy. If we label those who cannot read nor write as ‘useless’ or ‘conservative’, etc, then logically we are branding God with the same attributes because humans are material manifestations of Him. What a big insult!

Now let me touch on the harsh and unspeakable maltreatments we mete out to those who cannot read nor write. The economic aspect. In many corporate environments, illiterates are discriminated against in broad spectrums of exploitation and sugar-coated slavery. Often, we tend to lose sight of the fact that our economy is shouldered by these illiterates who have vastly occupied our extractive industry. It is unambiguously stipulated in our 1992 constitution of the Republic of Ghana, article 24 (1) that ‘every person has the right to work under satisfactory, safe, and healthy conditions, and shall receive equal pay for equal work without distinction’. But this provision had been grossly disregarded by several firms and has been prejudicially sliced to embrace certain class of people (literates). Some Ghanaians are still working in death traps, some are been given embarrassing salaries, and their seemingly unending predicaments are aggravated by pot-bellied officials who parasite on their meagre bonuses, and threaten them with dismissal when they clamour for better wages and salaries.

I remember one incident vividly when I was in SHS. It occurred during a PTA meeting when a fragile middle aged woman tried to call the daughter she was struggling and toiling to educate. This ‘uneducated literate’ daughter of the woman, who was sitting among her peers behind me, gave her mum a response, which none of the adjectives in the Dictionary can accurately describe. It only takes a shameless soul and a heart of ingratitude to deny a friend or a loved one or a parent simply because such a person is illiterate.

Please, let’s re-evaluate and check our relationship with such people. The touching aspect of it is that some people are illiterates as a result of irresponsible parenting, sacrifice for other siblings, illogical cultural systems, and also poor understanding of education. Let me indicate that i’m not condoning nor admonishing people to reject education, of course, that’s the window to our intelligence.

It is important to treat everybody equally irrespective of their socio-cultural situation. How would you have felt if you were to be in their shoes?

Kindly spread the message by passing this on to other colleagues.

MUNDANE NONSENSE