It's Christmas

Its Christmas Day and I just had to come by. I have been away too long, studying like there was no tomorrow! And I have definitely missed writing.

So much has been happening and yet the drama is only unfolding in my backyard. Ghana went to the polls on December 7; the Electoral Commission declared a winner; the opposition does not accept the results and has served notice to challenge the EC on Thursday 27th. I guess everyone knows this by now. Obviously some people are not "chopping" Christmas.

Elsewhere people with no business wielding guns and  those certified to use them to protect are equally using them to cause havoc. All that is sad and dreary news.

Well, I will return shortly but right now, today, its Christmas and I intend to ..... probably attempt to bake a cake.

Best of the season to anyone and everyone!

"The Three Little Pigs"

before the collapse

Depending on which local media reports from Ghana you’ve accessed in the past week, a 4, 5 or 6 storey building partly being used as a shopping mall crushed to pulp leaving rubble that suggests, nay definitely smacks of substandard construction work. 

Having personally experienced the numbing consequences of the “priceless” handiwork of the most celebrated estates company in Ghana with a record of almost yearly awards for industry excellence, I was truely upset by the incident.

Pickaxes, shovels, spades, cranes and bare hands were deployed quickly at the scene of the disaster for the rescue operation. Aside the bare hands our tools for the rescue operation sent shivers down my spine as I imagined the possibility of victims being gored in the eye, in the sides, or crushed by the very same rescue tools. The Israelis must have felt the same. A day after the disaster, 18 of them were flown in to our aid armed with sniffer dogs and other “special equipment”. 

Thankfully 50 victims of the disaster had already been removed from the rubble safely by the time they got in. Personnel from almost all the security agencies were at hand supported by probably all the ambulances and operational stretchers, private and public in the city. Concerned citizens bought sachet water and threw them into the wreckage for the trapped, screaming and thirsty victims. 

The incident happened Wednesday November 7 before 10am and going by the claim of the shop owners that business was yet to begin that day and that only about 52 workers were likely to be in the building at the time, the search for survivors should have ended on the same day. At the last count on Monday 12, about 85 people out of which 14 have been pronounced dead, had been taken from the wreckage and the search is only now winding down.   

Elsewhere, on the eve of the recent US presidential election Superstorm Sandy hit the US. It wasn’t pretty - about 2 million people were reported with no electricity and some 40, 000 New Yorkers faced evacuation - and I thought the election would be postponed or something. I was wrong, Sandy did not happen in my backyard. I am pretty certain the events of Wednesday November 7 would have halted our elections slated for December. But off course I couldn’t possibly be suggesting we could be measured by the US’s capacity to weather the storms (no pun intended); just the sobering realization that we aren’t ready for just about anything, death being the exception.

Yesterday the subject matter for Talking Point, a current affairs discussion program on Ghana Television was off course the national disaster that brought the election campaigns to a halt, albeit temporarily. A panelist was saying that there is no authority that registers private construction firms/ contractors in Ghana and that must be corrected. Another suggested the need to determine the chain of command in rescue operations as we were confronted with in the current incident. Yet another cautioned against apportioning blame until it becomes clear what contributed to the disaster. The discussion was filled with many “we have tos” and “we try tos”. 

The metropolitan boss says the building had no permit and practitioners in the construction industry are suggesting that the building that crushed seems to have been the product of inferior materials in the hands of unqualified builders.  The president has said that those culpable in this incident will face the music but beyond that, it seems to me the real culprit is the state. 

Where is the institutional framework that ensures such buildings never come into being in the first place; that defines and ensures minimum standards in the construction industry; that monitors and penalizes substandard work; that ensures redress for citizens who suffer the ills of industry players and indeed that ensures that those who receive awards for excellence do indeed meet the standards of quality? This calls for deep reflection; the kind that results from the self-assessment of a humbled people. 

So to the presidential candidates at the next debate and particularly the one who claims his vision is to get (state) institutions to work again: How will your government strengthen the institutional framework for disaster management in Ghana? While you think about it, please be advised to refrain from suggesting that your vice presidential candidate will head an institution  to be set up to deal with it. That solution has been spent, thank you.

Chicken Prescription

We went in to see how the ailing elderly woman was doing. She had arrived at the medicine man’s place the night before with a bloated, taut tummy and experiencing severe abdominal pain.

She lay on her side on a mat, using her arms for a pillow and spoke and breathed with obvious difficulty. Her daughter, a woman of about 50 years who was with her, sought to contain our anxiety with assurances that the medicine man was famous for the potency of his medicine; the ailing woman was a long-time patient of this medicine man and that the condition of the patient had improved since the night before. We remained quizzical.

The 6 foot cubicle in which the ailing woman lay was dark except for the streaks of sunlight coming through the doorway when the door was opened and cracks in the wall joints. A little gap had been left between the lintel and the roofing sheets but much of the space was blocked with wood and rags.  A lone candle stood on the bare cemented floor less than a foot away from the ailing woman’s feet. In a corner was a carrier bag which seemed to be carrying the patient’s belongings. Not much else was in the room or could have been except the little stool that I got to sit on at her feet.

The ailing woman had been brought to the medicine man’s village from a clinic situated in one of the major districts of Accra and about an hour’s drive away. Recent history has it that the patient was placed on “drip” at the clinic; a rather routine clinical first aid practice in ‘clinics”. Why this is so, I cannot tell ... for now. Obviously this did not impress those who took the old lady to the clinic nor the old lady herself; hence the decision to seek the medicine man.

Suffice it to say, this is how come for the first time in my lengthy life, I came to meet a medicine man. Contrary to expectations, he was a rather harmless looking fellow. Tall and weary looking, he wore a pair of black togas (long shorts), a knee length lacy tunic and orange flip flops to match.   I suspect the weariness came from the prospect of explaining his trade to a wide-eyed ignoramus. His words were few, calm and self-assured.  

He had administered some medication to the ailing woman he said, which had delivered much of the offending guests from the patient’s tummy. As we spoke, he was awaiting delivery of a cock to him. He explained that in his line of work, an important and indeed primary business process entailed seeking direction from the powers that be. I believe some people would dare call this diagnosis. And what did the cock have to do with this? Well, on its arrival, some rituals were to be done; a letter would be scribbled on a piece of paper and voila, the direction as to which herbs were to be collected and what concoction was to be cooked would become evident. I am not sure who was to do the scribbling but I suspect the cock on death row would undoubtedly leave its marks after its throat was slit.  

Herbalists, traditional healers, native doctors or in this case medicine men - have often been criticized because of their unorthodox methods and potentially hazardous processes; take a prescription writing cockerel and the ailing old lady's "ward" for example. However, the growing sense that there is a "science" behind what they do is no more worthy of debate so perhaps its time they did away with the mysticism and embraced "cleaner" methods for taking care of their patients. Especially since often times, the choice is between the medicine man and lousy service at the clinic. 

Religious Doctrine, Culture and Legal Tender

My good friend is an enterprising woman, married with two sons. Not that these characteristics distinguish her in any way. But that she is a committed practicing Catholic is why I believe she and many like her in the Catholic Church merit relief from the oppressive doctrine that prohibits Catholics from receiving the Holy Communion if their marriages are yet to be “blessed” in church i.e. they have as yet to receive the sacrament of holy matrimony or in more plain language, they have not exchanged vows in front of the church congregation yet. Note I said their marriages, which means they are married. Curious isn’t it?

Some people believe there is an easy way out. After all being Catholic is not an obligation so people like my friend could very well go and be something else. But since an existence without controversy yields no change I prefer for people such as my friend to hang in there and just like Cardinal Martini, keep hammering the fact that change must happen. Who knows?

Thing is, in our context legal marriages may be contracted either under Customary Law or under Marriage Ordinance. Traditional (customary) ceremonies adopt different flavours depending on the particular ethnic group(s) involved but essentially they retain similar features. The suitor through his family, requests the hand of the bride. When the suitor’s intentions are accepted, a date is set for exchange of bride price and gifts from the suitor’s side for the bride from the other side. The bride’s family then fetes the two families and their friends – there’s music, food, words of near wisdom etc. etc. etc and man and wife begin the journey of bliss or doom. Marriage by ordinance in contrast can be quite a dry affair without the added after party. The two intended appear with witnesses at appropriate location, mumble some words of commitment and sign off!

By way of ritual, the traditional marriage is certainly more meaningful (I say so), engaging, rich, colourful, public and legally recognized. My bias is apparent but the truth is marriage by ordinance seems to require the agreement of the two families (only possible in the customary marriage) in the union as prerequisite!

So why the Church’s obvious distrust of or is it aversion to the traditional marriage and for which reason it strongly promotes the sacramental topping, in the absence of which it takes further steps to debar legally married Catholics from coming to the Lord’s table? Two reasons have been suggested; first is that those whose marriages are not “blessed” in church are “living in sin”. The church says no sex before marriage; remember? So in the eyes of the church traditionally married couples are just people cohabiting and doing what married people do. I say boo to that. Second the church frowns on polygamy (I do too) and customary marriages are potentially polygamous. By insisting on the church blessing (which supposedly commits a person to monogamy, if one turns a blind eye to what happens in real life) and instituting “punitive” consequences otherwise, the church hopes to keep up the pretext of monogamous relationships among its flock. Never mind that many traditional marriages are and remain monogamous while a percentage too great of the so called church marriages are “openly” polygamous.

My axe falls partly on a society that instinctively assumes inferiority of its own culture in relation to others. Take for instance those who tend to say they are attending “engagements”, or say their relative is being “engaged” when indeed the ceremony referred to is that of marriage! There is no such thing as engagement in our marriage custom. The so-called “engagement” activity which rests heavily on two people and whatever they care to “engage in” does not even come close to what we call “knocking”. Knocking is a prelude to the marriage ceremony proper which put simply involves emissaries from the suitor’s family going to make enquiries about a woman’s availability for marriage to the bridegroom hopeful. Call it the application stage. Is this anything like engagement?

I believe our traditions with respect to marriage are too meaningful for the Pope to turn his nose at. If I was my friend I would go right ahead and eat up the bread each Sunday and see who stops me. After all many so-called engaged and yet to be married couples pretending not to be having sex (actually in many cases it’s the Church pretending they are not) are having their fill.  

Selling The President

First of all, President Mahama's message in his maiden address was okay by me. Like that matters.  But it served its purposes as far as I am concerned, given the circumstances. He started off by commending the nation’s “performance” on the death of the late president and made special mention of the widow and surviving only son. That brought the curtain down on President Mills’ chapter. Then he acknowledged our collective contribution to nation building, again recognizing and mentioning ALL past governments thus far. That was swell. He reminded the nation about our collective interest in and responsibility for keeping the peace that we so apparently cherish; reiterated  his commitment to just and equitable governance and promised to provide us with his plan of action in a policy agenda within a defined time-frame. Basically he sought to present himself as president for the first time and achieve closure on the past with us. Neat and necessary and methinks that was enough. There was no need encumbering this objective with the details of any policy agenda.  

For the first time in decades, I did not cringe or feel irritated during a presidential address. After the first few minutes of uncertainty, I sat through to the end without worrying about what was going to be said. It was neither abrasive nor was it a lazy drawl that usually got me making for the kitchen for a cuppa something in between. Off course I would have wished the president was not that shifty on his feet and I wish I had seen his eyeball even once during the whole address. Presidential groomers needed here!

The presidential baton change will/ should shift the nature of campaigning towards the December elections. The issue of which team can do the job is of much more interest and concern now than is the simple concern to keep the ruling party in power or chuck it out. The real challenge then for the ruling National Democratic Party (NDC) is to sell their candidate who until July 24, this year was only the trimming on their bid to maintain power and not so much touting the good works done so far on the Better Ghana Agenda, even though that is no doubt important. Convincing colourless voters of the capacity of the “stand-in president” and his team (who is or is felt to be on the president’s team) to govern and better still, proving that this team is better than the alternative is critical.  Concretely what do they see as the county's key challenge at this time and what is their strategy for resolving it?

Hopefully the promised policy agenda will/ should set the tone for all of this and it should better have something to say about employment and education. It should also allay any fears that industry and business players might be harbouring. Indeed given that the NDC is not participating in the so-called presidential debates organized by the Institute of Economic Affairs (IEA), this agenda is likely to be the president’s trump card or worse, that which will undo him. 

President Mahama’s main competitor is a well known presidential candidate; this is his second run. The man is either loved or much despised and minds are pretty much made up about him either way. The other contenders don’t stand much chance of winning the presidency. So what does President Mahama bring to the table aside being a “soft spoken gentleman” and perhaps as peace loving and earnest as his papa and perhaps also aside making babies? That’s what his campaign team should be seeking to package and sell because that’s what is likely to motivate cynics like me to cast a vote in the first place and probably also decidedly tip the scales in his favour.

In the meantime my good friend and I think the president should start acting the part. You know, stretch to his full height. He sort of reminds me of the president next door when he took over from his late father. And it’s about time his campaign team started saying something  about his past experiences, especially his time in government and how these speak to his preparedness and ability to take up the reins of government.

What Would The Dead Have Us Do?

I am thinking about death and the dead. Not that I can help it. The Story of late president Mills on the airwaves is a constant reminder. Either the man on the flute is playing dirges or a group is discussing the late president’s life’s history, character and good works interspersed with tribute songs by various musicians. The late president’s pictures are rolling in the background on TV all the time with a little insert that says Ghana mourns President Mills. All programs, radio and TV alike are almost always dedicated to the president’s memory or begin with some reminder that the country is in mourning. So I really can’t help it if I am still talking about the dead!

There are 3 strands to the storytelling; what kind of a man he was; how like someone we know, the late president literally laid down his life for country and underlying these two, the third; what the late president expects from us, the people of Ghana. The first 2 whether you agree with the substance or not, are relatively straight forward, as they are things about which the late president’s words and actions, and the unsurprisingly flattering memories of those that knew him provide insights and direction.

It is the question of what the late president expects from us that I find intriguing.  

On the question of the burial place which thankfully has been resolved, there were some very passionate cries against the Jubilee House as a possible location. “Please don’t’ bury him there, he (President Mills) will be unhappy. He never liked that place”! Yep I agree he would have if he was alive but he dead.

Then when some party bigwigs went to town complaining about President Mahama’s vice presidential nominee (who by the way has just been sworn in; Go Ghana!), the rank and file quickly bared their teeth on radio call-ins. Their message, “our big men should stop the in-fighting. This is the time to close our ranks and win the December polls for President Mills”. They also admonished their top politicians to stop haggling over positions in the party as “the late president would not like that”!

Many state officials, influential persons in society and indeed many on the streets also agree on one thing; that the country’s greatest honour to president Mills is to hold peaceful elections because “that is what he would want”.

And did I hear someone say that the Olympics team to London 2012 was going to do the best they can to bring back medals because that would please the late president? From the look of things I have a fair idea what sort of motivation this ... is not.

I know I am a bit of a skeptic so I am betting the dead seldom declare their wishes from whence they may be. Otherwise I am pretty certain all those weeping, wailing, pouring their hearts out and claiming some significance in the scheme of things (including me who is relentless in my mourning clothes) would be running helter- skelter at the sound of a ghost, even if it’s that of the humble, peaceful Asomdwehene.

So I take it, we really want to say it is in our interest to act in the ways we imagine will make the late president happy.  For the last time, he dead!

Can someone tell that boy’s uncle that his dead brother would be displeased if he continued whittling away the boy’s inheritance?

President Mills’ Death - Troubling Matters

So it’s been a week since the old man kicked the bucket. Messages of goodwill, solidarity, condolences have been pouring in from all over. Today I am in full mourning clothes to mark the 7^th day after the passing of Asomdwehene (the king of peace) as he was nicknamed. The 7^th day celebration of a person’s passing is an important event in many parts of Ghana and the president’s lineage is no different.

It struck me that the presidency of Professor Mills was always surrounded by many questions; not only in terms of doubts or uncertainties but also just straight questions about just what’s going on with one thing or the other.

So there were many questions: will the former charismatic leader of the ruling National Democratic Congress (NDC) be in control? Is Mills sick or not? Did Mills know about the gargantuan money payment? Did the president sack the government official? Who is president of Ghana and who is in charge of affairs?

Answers to these questions were not easily available although I must be quick to say that to the last question the late president provided an answer so quick and direct, it disarmed everyone.

In the wake of the president’s death the questions linger on;

Who will be the vice president and running mate for president Mahama was one of the first ones? Hopefully the matter will be settled today as it seems president Mahama may be submitting his nomination to parliament today. Everyone is waiting, too anxiously I should say. I don’t know what difference that would make now but I hope it will not be that person I don’t want.

Where will he be buried? Indigents of the late president’s hometown are insisting they want the son of their land returned to be buried in Ekumfi Otuam from where he hails. Government officials had earlier and on different occasions announced or suggested the seat of government, Flagstaff House and the Nkrumah mausoleum. Later, a representative of the late president’s family insisted that the burial would be in Accra, not his hometown! A well known lawyer, chief and “traditionalist” argued it’s the family’s preserve to decide the burial place. The government is in close consultations with the family but there are two sides to the family issue and the Ekumfi Otuam side is unhappy. So where will the late president be buried? We wait on the funeral committee that’s been set up.

The call of the late president’s people carried with it another question that has been on the minds of many. What (or who) killed the president? Even though it’s general knowledge that the late president was managing a cancer and probably a few other complications, there is yet to be known the details of an autopsy, if there is to be one that is. The cry of the people of Otuam when they insisted, in their grief that the body of the president be brought home was that; first they wanted to see for themselves if he was dead, really. That’s easy the good Professor would have given them a call already if he was not. Second, they want to know if he died a natural death or there was a “hand” in his death.  The constant unpleasant remarks directed at the late president have been pointed to as having a possible “hand” in his death. In the meantime, I heard this morning someone intimating that actually the late president “got the cancer when he became president”. Mmm read more here.
 

A related question of how many funerals should be held popped up not quite 2 days ago. A group has suggested that all regions in Ghana hold simultaneous funerals for the late president. This surprised me but I know death has a way with my people. How many funerals? Like how many bodies do we have? Not sure, not sure at all.

   

Now what can be said about the dead and indeed about our president? Mr. Rawlings the former president; the challenging, exciting and often times mildly embarrassing subject in our politics provides a clue with what we would rather not hear. First he goes to say the “unwise” thing then as if to backtrack on his apology to the late president’s family subsequently, he writes the “spoilt brat’s” thing.  Mr. Rawlings seemed to be in deep thought as he sat to write his thoughts in the book of condolences, I have no doubt the outcome is a reflection of the highest consideration of things he has to say and must say!

Mr. Rawlings signing the book of condolences

Here are his first words on the death:

[“It was quite a shock to both me and my wife but IT WAS NOT UNEXPECDTED BECAUSE HE’S BEEN BATTLING WITH CANCER FOR QUITE A WHILE NOW, you know, but this is certainly the wrong time for him to go considering that WE HAVE ELECTIONS, you know, AROUND THE CORNER IN DECEMBER.  ....quite frankly I think HAD HE BEEN ADVISED AND DONE SOMETHING WISER, YOU KNOW, EARLIER ON, HE COULD PROBABLY HAVE SURVIVED, YOU KNOW, FOR, I DON’T KNOW, FOR ANOTHER SIX – SEVEN MONTH YES, ]

Mr. Rawlings’ words and that of a few other close confidants of the late president have also got others thinking; would/ could the president have lived a few more months, perhaps till after the elections, if .....? I guess there were some who were betting on that, if only for a politically tidier end. But I will never know will I?

Ghana's President Dies

 Ghana's president, John Atta Mills died July 24, 2012 and the vice, John Dramani Mahama was sworn in as president same day.

John Atta Mills

                          

                                            

John Dramani Mahama

                                                              
                                      








There's quite a bit in the media about the death and events surrounding, naturally. The new president was visibly distraught during the swearing in and for once the whole house of parliament was silent. The two Johns had worked well together; never seen a pair like that in my years of consciousness.
But days before the death it is said that the "hawks" were already encircling the vice presidential seat. I am so sad. Just so sad.

A Place To Lay Me Head

She wakes with a start not knowing what made her spring off her pillow clasping her ears with her two hands and grimacing. She had not been dreaming.

As she comes to her senses; loud music and the voice of an excited MC announcing the arrival of guests to a function is distinct. The idea of an idle Saturday morning in bed quickly leaves her so she gets out of bed and paces about her two-room apartment. The noise is nothing new she reflects, in fact she has grown quite used to the nuisance over the years but this morning it’s louder than usual. She wonders if a rally of one of the political parties is underway in the township nearby. It’s election year and the country goes to the polls in 5 months. After a few minutes of pacing she steps outside her gates and looks about her, trying to determine the direction of the unwelcome racket and what it could be about. That’s when she sees her neighbor walking towards her. She notices an air of resignation about him. He looks up at her as he approaches with a knowing smile and says, “The market woman is launching a product. I think it’s some juice”

He lives 3 streets away from her in their “estates” of about 80 houses and the “market woman” is his next-door neighbor. So they stand on the street in front of her house and chat about life in their “gated community”.

The people in a house on his street have been brushing their teeth and pissing in the gutters in front of the houses, he tells her. “There are 9 of them in that house!” “Well, the other day the man in that house crossed the street from his house and pissed on the wall of that other house”, she counters. As she spoke, she pointed to the house of the lanky fellow who “they” say is a teacher. They both shake their heads in wonder. He suggests that perhaps the pissing folk want to save their water. You see, water never runs in their neighborhood so the people who live there buy water for all their household needs from water tankers at GHC25 per every 400 gallons. Flushing the water closet is considered a luxury.

“So why is a product launch happening in a residential area?” she asks, returning to her immediate distress. “Well, she came knocking at our doors to inform us last night” he says. “But at least the noise could be toned down?” There is silence.

“Have you noticed that the potholes on the streets are being filled?” goes the neighbor, trying to change the discomfiting subject of his noise making neighbor. He is one of the executives of the neighborhood residents association. She responds in the affirmative. A young man had been filling the potholes with stuff collected from the gutters. As if to explain, he tells her that the construction company that built the estate is not about to do anything about the roads so they have to do it themselves.

They talk about the fact that barely a week ago the CEO of the company had received an award for excellence in the housing industry; the second such award in recent times for a company that is known to be one of the best for shabbiness.

They also talk about the tussle between some residents in the estates and the local authorities on property rates they pay based on the “A Class” categorization of their area. The authorities hold that the area is to become an “A Class” residential area in the future. The residents cannot imagine it happening in their lifetime. Anyway, this year officials from the local assembly are yet to come to collect property rates. The local authority had announced in the dailies earlier in the year that the official responsible for their area was no more an employee of the authority. “Probably he has run away with our money”, she surmises.  

They part company; she thinking quickly about a reason to get her away from home for some hours and he, wondering if and how the market scene could be approached.