Saturday, January 31, 2009

Strange Things You’ll Find in Living Rooms in Ghana




When it comes to interior decor, I’d give most Ghanaian homes that I’ve visited low points. Each time I sit in our living room, I can tell that someone has made some attempt to decorate and has failed. Our living room used to be very cluttered but even now that there is more space, it is still uninspiring. As I mentioned in an earlier blog entry, this seems to be a national problem. The list which follows has the ten elements which I feel add nothing to our living rooms.

  1. Fake flowers
  2. Walls painted Duke blue, ochre, or even verdant green. In general, I find that little attention is paid to the way colours are combined
  3. Oil painted walls
  4. Wooden room dividers with china plates displayed in them
  5. Family photos which don’t seem to tell any story- The mother in the wedding dress, the father in his church suit, the children at graduation, baby photos- and are displayed in some odd places. For example the wedding picture will be on the wall, the baby pictures will be on the tv etc.
  6. Centre tables covered with fabric...usually made from lace or cotton
  7. Curtains and draperies which hang from ceiling to the floor and prevent light from streaming in. I like light and fresh air so I see no reason to have windows if you’re going to cover them up. But then again, if your next door neighbour sells kenkey, the air coming in from the window facing that neighbour may not be so fresh.
  8. Wooden decorative elements which look commercial and very kitsch.
  9. I don’t know the name for it, but you’ll find rectangular or oval pieces of fabric hanging on the sofas with matching ones lying on the coffee tables. I used to think these were just for decoration but it also serves to prevent grease from people’s hair from staining the sofas.
  10. Bright corporate calendars hanging on walls. My mother must have a friend who works in a bank because she always gets these bank calendars that are so out of place in our living room.

I’m curious to see what you have to add. What have I left out? If you like any of the things I’ve included in my list, you may make a case for them and I might side with you and decide to get them for my living room.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Ghanaians and High School –What’s this Plenty Old-Boy /Old-Girl Matter?


When my classmates and I were about to complete JSS in 1997, as was the practice, we selected 3 secondary schools among all the secondary schools in Ghana and ranked them based our preferences and the school’s perceived academic ranking. Our selections were to determine which secondary schools we’d attend. Depending on how well we performed in our BECE exam, we would be placed into the first choice, second or third choice schools. I chose Wesley Girls High School (Gey Hey), Mfantsiman Secondary School and Apam Secondary School in that order. I’d never met anyone who’d attended any of these schools; If I had, I did not know it. Most of my classmates chose Motown (Achimota Secondary School), and Aburi Girls Secondary School and Presec (Presbyterian Boys Secondary School) so why did I choose Gey Hey? Someone in my class had a sister who’d gone there. That classmate’s opinion counted some to me at the time and she always spoke so glowingly of her sister that I’d somehow accepted that there must be something magical about the school. That was it. I selected the school, got accepted, and spent three years there.

High school was alright. It wasn’t the best time of my life, but it must have contributed to my development. For one odd reason or another-probably my lack of ability to keep friends in general-I haven’t been able to sustain friendships with those with whom I was in Gey Hey, and maybe that’s why I’m not strongly attached to the school. I wouldn’t be surprised if I have some amount of school pride lurking someplace in my bones, but whatever pride exists is not enough to, for example, motivate me to display a Gey Hey sticker on my car. Indeed some of the women I admire most are people who were in Gey Hey at the same time that I was there, yet we hardly interacted while we were in school so they’re not really friends, just people I know and admire. While I admire these women, I’d never created a necessary link between their status as Gey Hey alumnae and the fact that they’re smarter or more interesting or insert some-other-superlative-adjective-here than some other people I’ve encountered.

One of the things which have surprised me most since I’ve been back in Ghana is the pride and enthusiasm with which people here speak about high school. Someone (an alumnae of gey hey) introduced me to another person (who was not) as a Gey Hey Old girl. Gey Hey Old girl? I mean yeah, sure, but of all the things a person could say about me, why that? Or someone would say, she’s very smart but what do you expect, she’s a gey hey old girl. A man visited my office, soliciting business. After we’d talked, and just before he left, he said “I have to ask you this, which school did you go to?” I hesitated because I wasn’t sure whether he meant primary school, secondary school, college or grad school. Knowing Ghana, I said Wesley Girls. His response? “I knew it!”. He said he was an old boy of Mfantsipim School. I smiled politely, thinking all the while, okaaaaaay, what now? This man looked like he was over forty and he was still talking about high school with this much conviction? Wow!

Now I’m not saying that people shouldn’t have school pride but seriously, high school was ages ago! I’ve gotten over it. Why won’t other Ghanaians do the same? I can even understand that if like me, you didn’t grow up in a family of old-girls, then going to Gey Hey might have been an especially important accomplishment for you but hopefully you’ve gone on to do other things that are even more impressive so you don’t need to keep harping on your decade-old accomplishment. I just don’t get it. In town, I see so many red stickers for Mfantipim School, big, bold, and blue stickers for Presec, and the head of the host stickers and school crest for Motown, and people I meet still ask me, this: wey school you go? (tr: which high school did you go to?) It’s as if I could go to the best schools in the world and no one in Ghana would care. All they’d care about is that I went to Gey Hey. What is going on here? Why are we so hung up on the old-boy /old girl matter? As we say in Ga (a Ghanaian language), Ote sukuu yɛ Gey Hey ewɔɔ mini? (tr: you went to Gey Hey and so what?)

*Photo provided by Nii Koney – Odadeɛ ’00

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Tales From Back When We Were We(e)

All this talk about caning in Ghanaian schools has made me very nostalgic. I loved primary school and jss. I was one of those talkertive, obnoxious, over-confident kids with no claim to fame. I was always bɔɔing walk. ie. walking from the legon gate to school as opposed to being dropped off in car. At some point, my parents got a lada and converted it into a taxi which would take me to school so I too could say our driver dropped me. Back in those days it was a flex (tr: a way to be cool). I was such a wanna-be (shown in photo). haha!

I know you all have tons of elementary school and jss stories so this blog entry is really more for you, but I will begin with two of my most memorable primary school tolis.

Toli Number One
When I was in primary school, we always had either a spelling bee or a math class quiz on friday mornings. Three or four kids would be selected from each section (red, yellow, green and blue) to represent their section and the whole primary school would gather to watch. Now in one of those spelling bees, I represented green with some other kids. We were in class 6. I was asked to spell mathematical. I thought, oh, such an easy word. It is spelt just as it sounds. Overconfident, I spelt it. The quiz master said, "wrong, try again". In my mind, i was like whaaaaaat? I couldn't have missed that. Maybe he didn't hear me. I tried again, confident that this time, he was paying attention, he said I was wrong again. What? Section green...last try, the word is mathematical. I spelled it. Wrong. What? To this day, I still don't know what mistake I made. It is entirely possible that I spelled it as m-a-t-h-e-t-i-c-a-l , missing the m-a in the middle but I don't know how I could have missed such an easy word three times! Some of the other kids in my section also missed their words so Green was last! Losing was the easy part. The difficult part was to come- how does one face his/her classmates after s/he caused his/her section to lose. There would always be "green kpee, bedi akpele" (tr: green is last and will eat akple, an ewe dish made from cassava dough), and then there was the song:

On friday mornings,
we have spelling bee
a section will be first
and a section will be second
a section will be third
and a section will be fourth
i'll say better luck next time


Class six children will stand in your face to sing "i'll saaaaaaaaaaaaaay better luck next time" tauntingly. Right then, it was not fun to be me. So after the quiz was over, I decided I wasn't going back to the classroom. No way! All this time, I had a mild toothache which suddenly started hurting really bad. I went to the assistant head-mistress, complained of my unbearable toothache and cried. Whether it was real or acting, It convinced her sufficiently and I was made to go home! yes! Let's just say by the time I returned on Monday, everyone had forgotten about Friday's quiz:)

Toli Number Two
I remained in section green and in JSS 1, again I had to represent green, this time in athletics. I think it was for 400 m, 800 m and 1500 m races. I don't know what happened to green that year but whilst other sections had strong athletes in JSS 2 and 3, somehow the best they'd found was this JSS 1 kid. me. How was I going to compete against the legendary Vinolia and other JSS 3 girls in other sections? In retrospect, I think it was all in my mind, and that I was defeated before I even began the race because I was so convinced that I couldn't out-race older kids. On the first day of the inter-sectional athletics competition, I was only to run the 400 m sprint. The longer distance races were going to be run the next day. So I ran, and I was last. I hated losing. Who doesn't? My mates made me feel so bad about being last. Even the boys, who were usually my paddies (tr: friends) were all saying things like oh Esi, what did you think you were doing? and then laughing at me. So i went home that day and failed to return the next day to run the other 2 races. Later when the competition was over and I returned to school, the teachers gave me a stern warning and I was made to write lines which read: "I will not let my section down again". I was quite surprised that they were so upset at me because I hadn't thought that I was letting my whole section down. I'd just thought of saving my own face. What happened was, when I hadn't shown up, the second best athlete green had was made to run those races and of course she was last in both races. Writing the lines taught me my first real lesson in responsibility and accountability to a team. I'd never written lines before so it was a big deal and I really felt like everyone was disappointed in me, more disappointed than if I'd run and been last. The great news is that in JSS 3 they gave me a second chance to run again and green won all the races and was first so I was able to redeem myself. yes!

What are your most memorable primary school and jss stories? It doesn't have to be about winning and losing, just whatever you remember. Please limit the stories to primary school and JSS, and save your secondary school stories for later this week. I'll be posting a special secondary school blog entry where you can tell us about your SSS/Boarding School/Sixth form days. I have some crazy inter-co (inter-colleges athletics) stories myself and funny letters from Presec, Adisco, Kwabotwe, Augusco, St. Peters, Motown, GSTS and Koforidua Sec. Tech. boys. One presec boy said he was "stupefied at my tyranny" eish scholar! Stay tuned.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Guess Who is Debating The Issues?

I had every intention of further editing what should've been today's blog entry and then posting it but my little brother Ato, who some readers will remember from the bacon incident that I mentioned in a different blog entry titled A Ghanaian Breakfast, made a comment this morning which compelled me to change plans. I dropped him off at his school, the University Primary School at Legon (UPS) as I usually do, glad that he didn't throw up in my car today. (By the way, Ato claims he does not vomit when he takes tro-tro, but posh cars make him vomit. Imagine that!). At UPS, Friday is the big day for club activities so the Girl Guides wear their blue dresses, the Brownies wear their brown attire, the Boys Scouts wear their khakis and boots, those in the football club bring their footballs and so on, so just as we got there, I noticed other students wearing their club attire. Curious, I asked Ato why he wasn't wearing his and he answered that he's in the writers and debaters club and that club has no special attire. If there's such a thing as an internal groan, I did it. Another writer! Why couldn't he be in the drama club or drumming and dancing club, Red Cross or even the science club? Twelve years ago when I left UPS, there was something called the Young Writers Club, but I don't recall that they did any debating. So I pressed him further to ask what they debate on. His response?
"We debate the issues!"
Ei, ei, ei, Ghana has indeed moved forward. Twelve-year-olds are debating the issues! The way Ato said they debate the issues left me quite impressed because I certainly wasn't debating the issues when I was in JSS 1 (middle school). Now with a smile forming on my lips, and pride growing in my heart, I humbly asked, dɛm a? ɛbɛn issues dɛm na wɔ debate? (tr: Is that so, what are some examples of issues you've debated) I was really starting to feel cheated out of a wonderful educational experience since this same school had not empowered me to discuss the issues when I was there. Then Ato said "caning, and why caning must be abolished". (caning = the act of beating kids with a cane, a normal part of school life in Ghana) Oh my goodness! I started laughing and could not stop. By this time he was out of the car, holding on to the door. He cracked a smile and asked me why I was laughing. My response was "awo to me car no mu ma me nko" (tr: you close my car door and let me go). I laughed my way out of there. Here was I thinking that the kids were discussing education, healthcare, job creation and employment, the economy and so on, so out of touch with young people's concerns when indeed, the issues for twelve- year-olds in Ghana have not changed that much since my time...

Friday, January 16, 2009

Telling Our Stories - Two Ghanaian Voices on First Love

I really can't write poetry. All I know how to do is write about life. So I wrote about my first love, and posted it on Facebook. Then another Ghanaian woman sent me her poem about her first love after reading mine. I've decided to post both poems here. I'll share hers first and then mine. It'd be interesting to hear the same story from male voices. hint.

First Love. Written by Ababaawa

I fought it all the way
Not because I wanted to
But because I had taught myself to
Without ever knowing why
Your friendship was honest
Your gentleness was disarming
And even as I made jokes
About how badly I was treating you
As I pretended I was in control
Soon, even strangers could tell I was lost

When I did lose you
I came undone
Not because you left me
But because I pushed you away
When I told you I was done
I lied through the wry smile
Without really knowing why
But your honest eyes
Told me you saw it coming
And they told me
You didn’t resent me
You had just learned to love me
For my self imposed crazy

These days when I think of you
I set aside the false bravura
The fierce and sometimes cruel ways I resisted
And focus on the few days
When I let my guard down
And your smile told me you knew
But let me have my way anyway
The days when I didn’t have the strength to fight
And basked in the fiery warmth of your
Hold-me-so-tight-it-hurts-
Kiss-me-so-tender-I-shake
“Oh my God, that was good!” kind of love
The times when all the clichés were true for us
In a surprisingly, refreshing
And just plain nice way

These days I put aside
The memory of unnecessary fights
The “pssww I don’t love him” and the
“He’s not the man I’m thinking of forever with” moments
I ignore the small knot of pain
Somewhere below my left breast
Of seeing you realize that perhaps
I was too far gone
For you to receive what you gave

These days, I am thankful I had you
I am sorry I hurt you
I don’t wish to relive it
Not with you at least
For going back won’t change the past
But I look forward to the next one
With whom I can share something special
The one with whom I will take what you taught me
And apply in oh so many good ways
To show that if someone risks his heart
And all that is left is your resistance
You let go. As much as you can bear
You let go and let yourself live
In the exquisite sweet pain
Of that shared love
First Love. Written by Maameous
They say that I loved you too much
That I pushed you away
Smothered you with my love
That when you cheated on me,
then came back to tell me about it
You wanted me to fight for you
But still I gave you more
Unconditionally
1998

I gave you my heart, my love, my everything
Your friends were hitting on me
But I never betrayed you
Even when I knew you were messing around
Still went to bed thinking of you
And that’s why they gave me the talk like I was the crazy one
They were teaching me this thing called trade
I traded in true love, for something phony, baby

I did not fall in love with an image
Did not fall in love with what I thought you were
Or what you would become
I fell in love with you as you were
You caught me on a good day,
Hook, line and sinker
If you were a cheating, uncaring man
Then I loved you on that day
If you were a sweet loving man,
I loved you just the same

It wasn’t the type of man you were that I loved
Wasn’t the idea of you that I wanted
I loved you
Back then I knew for better for worse
Didn’t need no church or ceremony to learn that
But now I got to learn it again
And have it be a chore for me
Just like it be for all these people
Trying to exit with what the good book said
Looks like my heart grew cold
When I wasn’t looking

Maybe it died because I was doing it like everyone else
Doing this trade thing
Looking at a man’s qualities like he be on the market
Instead of removing dem qualities and experiencing him
I had no demands, no conditions
But as we grow, we learn when to stop loving
They told me a man doesn’t deserve me if he acts a certain way
Like we can ever deserve love
Like love can be regulated
More for you, you were good today
No love, today, my baby, you don’t deserve me

So I learned to lie and keep secrets
In case he was not really in love with me
In case he was really just chasing some image
Since there was no love unconditional
In this new world they were showing me
Such love was only a part of the old world I’d created for us
And by that point, you have to admit, baby
You were treating me like a commodity

So the good friends they were
They told me how to feel
Did not remember to ask me how I actually felt
I know I should have spoken up
But I didn’t want to seem like another
Woman making excuses for a brother
I got the feeling after a while
I was the one needed fixing up
I was the one making you act sick
So I fixed myself pretty good

In the new world
My man told me
If I ever did what you did
He would leave me and never look back
He said the good book said he could
Goosebumps crawling over my skin
Didn’t have the heart to ask what he woulda said
If the good book had said something better
Maybe he had a recipe
And this dish he was cooking
Required a smart fun woman
And if this woman was a little bruised, he could deal
But if this woman was a different way,
His love would evaporate, honey

I shoulda told them the truth
That when you left, I wasn’t hurting or even broken
Even though I hadn’t had enough of you
Never could get tired of you
I lied and pretended to be oh so sad
I caught on really quickly too
If a man didn’t call, you got angry
I started to pretend that you hurt me bad
just to make me look normal

What I didn’t know then
They didn’t understand me
They’d never loved this deep
Or maybe they’d also just learned the same formula
Taught them by someone who also learned it the same way
Never once listening to their own hearts
Baby, I started listening to myself again
Examining my own thoughts, my own feelings,
not just what the feminists say I should feel
I finally stopped trying to be something else
Wanting to be somewhere else
Wanting to be anything
When I never even figured out what I am

Baby, I am twenty five next month
I could give you one regret for every year I've lived
but only one has to do with you
I regret that I have not loved more people as I loved you
That I haven't loved enough
I regret chasing after some ideal
Someone else’s idea of what love ought to be
After they asked themselves what they liked

Baby I’m writing because I lost it
I’m desperate to love recklessly
Same way I loved you,
Before I stopped listening to my heart
When it wasn’t about how you loved me
But only about how well to love you


I'd love to see comments that compare and contrast the two poems...but feel free to comment as you please.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Calling Them Out: Why Do Ghanaian Men Lie About Sex?

In 2001, during the two years that we had to stay at home waiting our turn to apply to Ghanaian Universities as used to be the practice, one of my friends told me that a guy I knew had told another guy who did not know me that he had slept with me.My girlfriend believed it. I was in shock. I could not believe what would motivate anyone to make up such a story. Though I knew it wasn’t true and I tried to brush it aside I still felt uncomfortable in the knowledge that it would always be my word against his and people say that women always deny things so they would probably believe his version of the story. It seemed that even my girlfriends had a hard time believing me because like me, they could not think of why anyone would just make up such an untruth. They probably thought that I slept with the boy and that maybe it was low of him to talk about it but I was just embarrassed to come clean. But I wasn’t. I hadn’t slept with the boy and was really baffled by it. If you'd asked me about this last year, I would have probably said that that's just something that teenage boys do. Afterall, we were about nineteen years old then. The boy wanted to brag, he had nothing to brag about, he knew me, he claimed to have had sex with me, it earned him some man points among his friends, never mind that it sullies my reputation, perhaps he thinks i’ll never find out anyway afterall i don’t even know his friends so well, he wins. But not this year.

I will no longer chalk it up to insecurity of teenage boys because fast forward to 2009 and I hear something similar. This time I’m crushed for a while and I think Man, I guess boys never grow up. Again I hear the story from a female friend who says that a male friend we have in common told her that he was hanging out with a group of boys, well, men, all graduates from Yale. My name came up and all of them claimed to have slept with me. She knows me so she knew there is no way this could be true which is why she told me about it. She too had experienced this before. When I heard this I laughed. I laughed because I have never slept with a Yalie. So for three or four of them to congregate and all claim to have had sex with me is quite interesting, and demands an analysis of the male mind. These people are not boys. They are grown men, Ivy-educated, supposedly smart men. Their egos are probably big enough. So, are they still just lying to look good? Sheesh!

Now I’ve always been a tom-boy. In JSS I used to fool with the boys waa. I fought them when it was necessary. There was a time in my life when I dressed like a boy (baggy pants, sneakers, and oversized shirts, cap to boot) and walked with a swagger. Then one day during my Presec days I was walking from goase to Mr. Peprah’s classes when Ernest Afatsawo (I wonder if he remembers this), walking behind me caught up with me and said he’d thought it was a boy. From that moment, I started to consciously dress like a girl. Even though I attended all female institutions for both high school and college, I’ve always been in men’s spaces. I say this to make the point that I know how to do boys boys and I know how to not make guys get away with nonsense. I will not wilt away because of this. But boy do I want to stamp out the devil in intelligent grown men that makes them do this over and over again? Someday they will do this to a woman who is weaker and she will agonize over it. Shame, shame, shame! Some women will just hope this kind of thing just goes away if it happens to them but I’m not just going to sit there and hope it goes away. So I’m calling them out on it. I wish I knew exactly who the boys are but I’m secretly hoping that someone who was present when all these boys lied will read this and confront them asking why any woman would be so bold as to publicly declare that she’s never slept with any of you if you were the ones telling the truth. Grow up, will you?

I heard a story about how back in secondary school, a guy had told a similar story about a girl and the girl in question made him go from class to class to tell everyone that he lied about it. Some people who heard it said the girl was brown (wicked) for shaming the boy so, but I think that is how such people should be treated. If they have no qualms about telling people they’ve slept with me, knowing full well how that is interpreted in the Ghanaian circles, why should I care how they look when people find out?

Despite how personal these things are (And i’d love to hear your own stories), I’d like to move away from the personal and look at the big picture. Is there something to learn from this? I talked to one guy who explained that sometimes when you’re in a group of boys boys, and a girl’s name comes up, then someone flows you fans (tr: pats you on the back?) saying shiee, boss, you be hard guy, I sure say you finish am (tr: had sex with her) longest (a long time ago). Meanwhile you haven’t even kissed the girl before. At this point, everyone is looking on, waiting for you to show yourself to be the man that you’ve just been admired for being. So as not to disappoint, and to keep your stature intact, you say something like...well, I don’t kiss and tell. I won’t tell you if I finish am or I no finish am. I am a gentleman...but you say it in such a manner that indicates say yeah, you finish am. From then on, someone else can pitch in and say Oh, but that shorty, den me den am be tight o. Which really means nothing, but in that setting, everyone accepts that to mean you’ve also slept with her. So they’ll wear this like a badge of honor instead of manning up and saying oh, actually, I've never slept with her. One guy told me that there are some girls you sleep with and you don’t want anyone to know because boys boys will tease you or laugh at you, but I guess one can look at the silver lining and say that if men who have not slept with you are bragging that they have, you’re not such a bad catch:)

In all this, let us not lose sight of the double-standards of these men who will flow their friends fans for sleeping with multiple women, but the woman who they only claim to have slept with is quickly branded as a slut. One guy told me that his friend is a don because he's supposedly slept with half the Ghanaian girls our age in the US. How does that make someone a don? The guy is probably carrying some unknown disease and you are saying he should be worshipped? Actually I take that back. He probably lied about sleeping with all those women anyway. From my experience, I'm not believing any guy who comes to tell me anything he's done with a woman. Those who do, don't talk. That's just a basic lesson in life. If he can lie about having sex with me, he can lie about everyone else. For all I know, he's a virgin:)

To all the Ghanaian women who have ever had this experience, tell us how it made you feel and how you responded. What's the best way to respond to this childishness in some of our men. To the men who have done this before, feel free to come here with your tails between your legs, analyze yourselves and tell us what made you do it.

Let’s drink to a fairer world!

Esi

ps: By the way, after six years, I saw the 1st guy who told people he'd slept with me and I confronted him about it and, guess what? he denied ever saying such a thing. Wimp!

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Don't! Don't ! Please Don't Wipe the Windscreen!

Some Ghanaians who live abroad but are considering moving back to Ghana mention the heavy traffic in Accra as one of the things they are not looking forward to living with. To this, I usually offer my very unhelpful two cents which is that I don't really deal much with traffic here. I leave home for work before the traffic builds and head back during the late hours when it is so easy for me to whizz home, one would think I owned the streets. Maybe it is because of this that I actually enjoy seeing the sellers on the streets; Because I don't see them during the week, on the few times when I see them during the weekend, I initiate conversation with them, ask their names, buy stuff from them and romanticize the whole experience. So far, that works for me, and even when the tro-tro drivers cut infront of me from nowhere, I just patiently wait and shake my head, not sweating the small stuff. I used to get so disorientated when as a new driver, people would honk at me within moments of the light turning green. Now, four months on, I've joined in the honking to encourage drivers infront of me to move whenever traffic lights turns green, and I do it with a devilish grin and such relish! Hey, they say if you can't beat them, join them. I am settling in well. So all is dandy, right? Wrong!

There is one group of street-people in Accra that I would love to see thrown off the streets - The boys who wipe the windscreens! And even though I only have to suffer them a few times during the weekend, our encounters often leave me fuming and distraught. These boys usually approach your car when you've stopped either because of traffic or red light. Then they proceed to wipe the windscreen of your car with some funny contraption with a foam attached which they first dip into some bucket of soapy water before beginning the wipe job. On a few occasions, I've been able to stop them before they've begun wiping, but most of the time, they spring up on you, and don't bother to ask if you need the service before they begin cleaning so they're halfway into the cleaning job before you are able to say anything. Sometimes even my protests fail to stop them. I can't begin to tell you how deep under my skin these boys are able to get. There have been days when I've felt so exasperated at the hand-wringing futility of my attempts to stop them that by the time I am once more on my way, I who might have approached them feeling calm, happy even, am bereft of all humor. What really irks me is that once they've completed the job which you did not order, they ask you for coins. The way I see it, since I didn't employ them to work, I shouldn't have to pay them so I don't ever give them money. In any case, they're not really offering that much value. As I write, my car is very dirty because I haven't found time to go to the washing bay, wash it myself, or get someone to do it. Now if these boys in traffic were actually offering something of a decent/thorough cleaning job, I'd consider paying them. Instead of cleaning only my windscreen, if they also wiped down the body of the car, so that I could leave with a clean car, not just a dirty car with clean windscreens, maybe I would begin to appreciate their efforts. There are two things I don't like about these boys. One is the fact that they don't ask drivers if they should clean before they do, but just shove it down our throats. Second, is that they think they can just come and do something as little as wiping a windscreen and get paid for it.

There is also another group of young boys who try to make money by doing very little work. I speak of the boys who start filling pot-holes in streets that are ridden with potholes and then expect that because they've filled two out of a hundred potholes on that street, every driver passing at that time owes them money. I don't mind these people either; If they're really serious about working for money, they can find other means of employment.

I mention these two groups of people because they point to one phenomenon- Our young boys trying to make a quick buck and feeling entitled to your money because they've offered you something with no thought on how valuable their "service" really is to you. Seeing this attitude in boys who are not even fifteen years old is really bothersome.

I'll end with two questions. Do these people bother anyone else? And secondly, are some people grateful to have the boys cleaning their windscreens in traffic or filling potholes? If most people like having them there, then maybe I just need to take a chill pill, but if they're just as annoying to others as they are to me, we should take them out!

Sunday, January 04, 2009

Flirting With Catastrophe

Written by Sunskreen


I am not a politician, nor political – I’m just one who loves Ghana so much – but now having uttered those very words, I shudder at their abuse over the last few days in Ghana. ‘We love Ghana’ in deed, has become such a popular refrain on radio amongst the political houses that it makes me wonder whether this isn’t part of a larger strategy script that is being read to bamboozle the average undiscerning listener.

My fellow Ghanaians and persons with a heart to Ghana, we came very close to catastrophe. Let no one fool you into thinking this was just another peaceful round of elections that demonstrate how ‘democratically advanced’ Ghana is. The association of these elections in Ghana with the word ‘democracy’, makes me wanna (and I must beg your pardon here), spit out in disdain! We made a real mockery of democracy and in the process came all too tantalizing close to relapsing into a state of chaos no different from Kenya’s or Zimbabwe’s in recent times.

As I mentioned from the onset, I do love Ghana very much. I am very proud to mention to my friends beyond the shores of Ghana what a beacon of peace, political stability and economic viability Ghana is on the sub-continent. This picture of a utopia was menacingly close to disappearing in the 48 hours following the ‘run-off’ elections to determine the next head of the republic.

For those who have lost touch with Ghana, I will give you the elevator summary of what went down. Radio stations in Accra declared the opposition party winner prior to rumours emerging (quoting the Electoral Commission strong room as a source) that the incumbent had actually won. Supporters of the opposition were vociferously opposed to this and were supposedly mobilizing mobs with machetes and stomping EC premises to voice their opposition to the new unforeseen developments. There were threats of large scale violence looming on the horizon.

Now on this fateful afternoon of the expected final announcement from the EC, I was sat in the dusty front seat comfort of a taxi on my way home from Osu, the heart of Accra. Over the stereo was blurring music playing from “Peace FM”. That in itself would be unremarkable except that all the songs that were being played were patriotic songs. Sandwiched between two plays of the national anthem of Ghana, was a song in Twi entreating Ghanaians to embrace peace. After the second play of the national anthem, there was a stream of songs in different languages all drumming the message of peace, unity and the ‘one-people’ concept. One song even called for ‘non-violence’ in these elections. There was no voice over on this station for the entire 30-minute drive in this taxi. It was almost as though these dirge-like tunes had been made for a moment like this:

Offices had been closed and workers had been asked to go home in preparedness of potential widespread violence. When I say offices, I mean large corporations, even some multinationals. Rumours emerged that even the buzzing centre of commerce, the Accra Mall, was being asked to close early. It was 2:30pm and I was sat in uncharacteristically heavy traffic for that time of day. The taxi driver remarked “Obi ara ko fie, obia suro’ (Everyone’s going home, every one is afraid). On my inbound journey into Osu earlier in the day, a taxi driver had said to me ‘I say, if they don’t call this thing give the opposition, what go happen for this country inside, hmph! Me I dey go pack my things then lef Accra’. Now his ominous words came back to haunt me, no doubt compounded by the ‘patriotic’ solemn songs blurring out of Peace FM. It was like going to the funeral of someone beloved and wondering whether it was real. I was in a state of shock – was Ghana really on the brink of a widespread civil unrest. Not many seemed to be betting against it.

I sat back and wondered, is this how fragile our peaceful democratic state is? Would people really toss out nearly 30 years of reasonable political stability to send the country into a death spiral akin to that of Zimbabwe? Were the political leaders who ‘loved’ Ghana so much, willing to risk this? Even more worrying, were we incapable of holding a simple two-choice election, and tallying votes fairly and expediently?

My last statement is only a surface statement because behind the word ‘fairly’ lies many worrying details. The allegations that have been tossed about make a real mockery of our professed democracy. Polling station party representatives being beaten and imprisoned in some areas; some constituencies experiencing near 100% voter turn out after registering much less in the first round; Ashiaman descending into scenes straight out of Hotel Rwanda (yes indeed, the mob was threatening to attack a hotel were they suspected some ballot boxes had been smuggled to); the home of one incumbent official being beset by mobs who believed he was housing a ‘ballot paper thumb-printing press’; and the pick of the lot, a whole constituency going without any voting on the day because voting material did not arrive.

Going back to Ashiaman, I was listening to Joy FM on Election Day and wondered which country I was sitting in. There were gun shots in the background as the Joy FM reporter bravely reported from the scene of security forces versus mob violence. Apparently tear gas and warning shots were being aggressively used to disperse the mob and voting had come to a virtual stand-still in the township of Ashiaman. A heavy military presence had been deployed throughout that town.

Now the mental image of this I found very disturbing. This is by no means the Ghana I grew up in and loved. Mind you, this was violence taking place during the election, not to be confused with the violence that threatened to take place upon the announcement of the final results. I wondered, after 5 successive elections, were we incapable of having truly ‘free and fair’ elections? Have we not learnt to nurture a true democracy? In an election were 23,000 votes could decide the winner, what credence does our said democracy have if we can’t vouch for the fairness of the electoral process?

For me, there are a few takeaways from what was largely a very disappointing state of affairs. One – let’s not take our freedom and peace for granted, seriously. The sight of many scurrying home early from work was extremely disconcerting. It felt as though one was witnessing the very beginning of a tragic end. Two – our democracy as we know it, is not sustainable. This is a democracy that encourages boldface underhand tactics that go unchecked; a democracy that thrives on near barbaric aggression at times and a democracy that is ultimately a farce.

Now I hate to prescribe medicine to these problems for I feel I will be joining the legion of talkers. But I feel I should end this note on a tone of hope and not hopelessness. Our long-term political salvation, thankfully, is still in our own hands. After this election, I believe the new incumbent and new opposition really need to sit down and look back at what was a very flawed process of which both parties are equally guilty. We need to have an electoral commission that is truly independent and unwavering in its commitment to carrying out its civic duties. Further, if these blood- and power-thirsty politicians have any bit of love in them, let us seriously resolve to have measures in place that ensure that election results are non-contentious. Is it time to go electronic on the process and eliminate the sometimes convenient inaccuracy of the manual process? Should we now pay serious attention to the National ID project that will ensure only qualifying Ghanaians show up to vote in future elections?

These are burning commitments that may seem like unnecessary financial undertakings. But my brothers and sisters, whatever price these come at, they wouldn’t be a price too high to pay for the continued peace of this country, which we fumbled, and so nearly lost.

[This note was penned based on events prior and up to the 30th of December, 2008]

Friday, January 02, 2009

Why It's Important For Tein To Vote

Written By Thomas Kyei-Boateng

I write this note to all well meaning Ghanaians, especially those who think that it is better to cancel the elections in Tein and declare one of the contestants winner of the Dec 28 Presidential Run Off in Ghana. There is really a lot of exasperation in the air. Some have even gone on to label Nana Addo “power hungry” and “lacking common sense” . On the contrary, I think what is happening is a lot of common sense. I mean, allowing the people of Tein to exercise their franchise so that ALL Ghanaians will have a say in who becomes President IS common sense. I don't quite get what people's frustration is with this simple democratic exercise.

I have more than a fair idea about theTein constituency and I can say that the NDC will most likely win it and, in most probability, win the run off. However, we can’t just assume for the people in that constituency. We should all remember that political authority thrives on legitimacy. How can a President claim legitimacy when some people were disenfranchised during the voting process? We might as well scrap elections and make assumptions for every constituency and declare winners and losers.

People should understand that TEIN IS NOT going to determine who becomes the next President of Ghana. Votes from Tein will be added to votes from other constituencies to determine the winner. If Atta Mills wins the run off, it doesn't mean he did it because of just votes from Tein. It is the same with Nana Addo. Whoever wins the election can rightly ascend the throne because he has won the majority of the eligible votes cast THROUGHOUT Ghana.

The principle of universal adults’ suffrage is fundamental to multi party democracy. One man, one vote; not some man one vote and another man, no vote. If the voting in Tein is scrapped, we will be setting a bad precedent for ourselves and laying a rod for our own backs. There may come a time when some constituencies will be deliberately prevented from voting but a winner declared, because those constituencies are the strongholds of some party. This will not make sense.

I urge all the people of Ghana to appreciate the essence of democracy. It is a fascinating form of government. I can’t tell whether it’s the best form of government or not. What I know however is that, for close to sixteen years, it has worked wonders for the people of Ghana. Let us all therefore get off this “Candidate ABC should concede” bandwagon and allow the process to reach its logical conclusion.

May all of us have a prosperous New Year.I write this note to all well meaning Ghanaians, especially those who think that it is better to cancel the elections in Tein and declare one of the contestants winner of the Dec 28 Presidential Run Off in Ghana. There is really a lot of exasperation in the air. Some have even gone on to label Nana Addo “power hungry” and “lacking common sense” . On the contrary, I think what is happening is a lot of common sense. I mean, allowing the people of Tein to exercise their franchise so that ALL Ghanaians will have a say in who becomes President IS common sense. I don't quite get what people's frustration is with this simple democratic exercise.

I have more than a fair idea about theTein constituency and I can say that the NDC will most likely win it and, in most probability, win the run off. However, we can’t just assume for the people in that constituency. We should all remember that political authority thrives on legitimacy. How can a President claim legitimacy when some people were disenfranchised during the voting process? We might as well scrap elections and make assumptions for every constituency and declare winners and losers.

People should understand that TEIN IS NOT going to determine who becomes the next President of Ghana. Votes from Tein will be added to votes from other constituencies to determine the winner. If Atta Mills wins the run off, it doesn't mean he did it because of just votes from Tein. It is the same with Nana Addo. Whoever wins the election can rightly ascend the throne because he has won the majority of the eligible votes cast THROUGHOUT Ghana.

The principle of universal adults’ suffrage is fundamental to multi party democracy. One man, one vote; not some man one vote and another man, no vote. If the voting in Tein is scrapped, we will be setting a bad precedent for ourselves and laying a rod for our own backs. There may come a time when some constituencies will be deliberately prevented from voting but a winner declared, because those constituencies are the strongholds of some party. This will not make sense.

I urge all the people of Ghana to appreciate the essence of democracy. It is a fascinating form of government. I can’t tell whether it’s the best form of government or not. What I know however is that, for close to sixteen years, it has worked wonders for the people of Ghana. Let us all therefore get off this “Candidate ABC should concede” bandwagon and allow the process to reach its logical conclusion.

May all of us have a prosperous New Year.

Thursday, January 01, 2009

You Know You're Ghanaian If...

Written by a person who prefers to remain anonymous*

When you were young, your parents bought you clothes/shoes at least two sizes too big so that they would last longer


This one diee (tr: As for this one) , I can say I remember it very well. Whenever we bought shoes, my parents would say, "ma kwan nd’enyim," i.e. "make sure there's space in the front!" Abae!! Already we went to buy the shoes at Kantamanto ( a big open market for imported second hand clothing and shoes), wasn't that shy-ous (tr: embarassing) enough? Next, you want everyone to see that i'm wearing over-sized shoes!

You call older people you've never met 'uncle/braa' or 'aunty/sister'
In Ghana, everyone is your uncle. It's even worse with JSS/SSS (junior secondary school /senior secondary school, the Ghanaian equivalent of high school) students and the whole Kaazin-Kaazin (i.e. cousin-cousin) thing!

Your luggage is almost always overweight when you’re traveling by plane.
The only times i've flown with my luggage being under the weight limit were when I moved to my current state for work and when I first came here for my job interview. Otherwise, i usually go to the check-in counter feeling a bit uncomfortable about my bags.

Your garage is always full because you never throw anything away, just in case you need it someday.
Ha! You should have seen our garage back at home: Broken furniture, old paint cans, wawa boards (planks from the wawa tree), bent tyre rims, old cookers...you name it - we had it! We even used to keep old and completely worn-out car tyres in anticipation - I imagine - of a time when the current "new" tyres would be so worn out that, replacing them with the less worn ones in garage would be a good idea.

You wash your car on a Sundays.
The rich people especially used to do this! In Legon (where, I must add, there were hardly any rich people), it was almost like a ritual. The only time you would see some of the lecturers was on Sunday, when they would all line up to shine their "pre-owned" cars.

Weddings never start on time.
'Need I say more? When my parents got married, my uncle was the priest at the ceremony and he told them explicitly, "If you're late, I'll start without you." True to his word, by the time the bride and groom walked in, he was already delivering the sermon.

At least one of your uncles is a teacher.
:)

You have a 10 kg bag of rice in the kitchen.
Make that a 50kg bag!:) hehe:)

When your parents scold you, they’re often very loud

It was so loud you’d think they were singing at a concert! The tough part was when our friends would converge on the road behind our house to listen and giggle! I tell you, for the next few days, no one had to remind you to keep a low profile. The great thing about our neighbourhood, though, was that all the parents were loud. Thus, people were always careful about who they made fun of, ‘cos if your parents were among the louder ones (and my Dad was among the “top 3”), you knew what was coming your way when your turn came.

Your parents speak loudly on the phone, particularly during long distance calls

When an incoming call was from the neighbourhood, my parents would speak softly. When, however, it was from somewhere else in the town, they’d speak with a slightly raised voice. When it was from somewhere else in Ghana, they would begin to shout. But, my goodness, it was when we had a call from abroad that we (the kids) would ran for the hills; they would babble as if there was no tomorrow! Shiei!!

* I am open to featuring guest-bloggers on Wo Se Ekyir. As we say in Ghana, Nyansa nyi baako fo tsir mu ( No one person is the sole repository of all knowlege) so we all stand to be enriched if many perspectives, and voices are heard on this blog.