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Africans are their own enemies (Part 2)
“A man’s enemies are those of his own household,” so the Bible says inMicah 7:6. Last week, we validated this with the treachery of top Ghanaian military and police officers in conniving with the CIA to depose Ghana’s first president, Osagyefo Dr. Kwame Nkrumah.
This week, the case of the Congolese nationalist, Patrice Lumumba whose compatriots cruelly backstabbed him buttresses the point.
They unashamedly connived with their oppressors to chase Lumumba out of office and assassinate him barely three months after gaining independence for them, depriving Africa of a gem of a leader.
He was a journalist and a poet but above all he was a freedom fighter like Nkrumah, in fact one of Nkrumah’s protégés.
He emerged when his country, then known as Belgian Congo, had suffered decades of oppressive colonial rule foisted on them by King Leopold II of Belgium in 1885 at the onset of the scramble for Africa.
The king did not only commandeer the Congo as his private property, but also enslaved and brutalised the natives, killing millions.
Those who failed to meet their quota of rubber harvest had their hands amputated.
Unwilling to submit to the regime of injustice, oppression and exploitation, Lumumba formed a political pressure group in 1958 at the age of 33 to agitate for change.
Even though he was from a minority tribe and very young, his charisma and courage attracted many heavyweights from the bigger ethnic groups to his cause.
They launched the Congolese National Movement, (Mouvement National Congolais), MNC, the first really all-Congolese political party.
In contrast, his two principal rivals, Joseph Kasavubu and MoiseTshombe, hailed from large, powerful, ethnic groups with political parties that were regional in character.
But they controlled large swathes of land populous enough to threaten Lumumba and his party despite its national character.
The same year he formed his party, Lumumba whose fame was growing with lightning speed, was invited by Dr. Nkrumah to the All-African People’s Conference in Accra held a year after securing independence for Ghana against all odds.
After independence, Dr. Nkrumah declared that Ghana’s freedom was meaningless unless it was linked up with the total liberation of Africa.
The conference, was therefore, convened to galvanise the rest of Africa to liberate themselves from the shackles of colonialism.
Two years after the summit, following mounting pressure on Belgium, France and the United Kingdom, they consented, albeit grudgingly, to demands by the colonies for multi-party elections.
As many as 26 African countries including the Congo and most francophone colonies, gained independence.
The MNC won a sizeable majority mandating it to form a government, with Lumumba becoming the first Prime Minister at 35 years.
Kasavubu was elected ceremonial president implying that the radical, leftist Lumumba, was more powerful to the dislike of the Belgians and their Western allies, especially the US.
Like his mentor, his speeches were alarmingly fiery, sharply stinging, fearlessly uncompromising, brutally sincere, and unnervingly electrifying.
The best is the one he gave on June 30, 1960, the day the Congo was granted its independence.
That day, King Boudewijn, the last Belgian king over the Congo, added insult to injury when he said the Congolese had been granted independence because his country’s project to civilise them had been accomplished. What?
As if the Belgians had done the Congo any favour by returning their stolen freedom to them, Kasavubu docilely thanked them for independence.
But Lumumba could not stomach the nonsense and vehemently protested, exposing the savagery of the Belgians vis-à-vis their claims of civilisation.
He stressed that independence had resulted from a relentless fight and not from the magnanimity of the Belgians. Among other things, he said:
“Although, this independence of the Congo is being proclaimed today by agreement with Belgium, … no Congolese will ever forget that independence was won in struggle, a persevering and inspired struggle, carried on from day to day, a struggle, in which we were undaunted by privation or suffering and stinted neither strength nor blood.
“It was filled with tears, fire, and blood. We are deeply proud of our struggle because it was just and noble and indispensable in putting an end to the humiliating bondage forced upon us.
“That was our lot for the eighty years of colonial rule and our wounds are too fresh and much too painful to be forgotten.
“We have experienced forced labour in exchange for pay that did not allow us to satisfy our hunger, to clothe ourselves, to have decent lodgings or to bring up our children as dearly loved ones.
“Morning, noon, and night we were subjected to jeers, insults, and blows because we were Negroes. … Our lot was worse than death itself.
“Who will ever forget the shootings which killed so many of our brothers, or the cells into which were mercilessly thrown those who no longer wished to submit to the … oppression used by the colonialists as a tool of their domination?
“All that, my brothers, brought us untold suffering. But we, who were elected by the votes of your representatives … to guide our native land, we, who have suffered in body and soul from colonial oppression, we tell you that henceforth, all that is finished with.
“We shall show the world what the black man can do when working in liberty, and we shall make the Congo the pride of Africa.
“I ask you all to sink your tribal quarrels: they weaken us and may cause us to be despised abroad.
“I ask you all not to shrink from any sacrifice for the sake of ensuring the success of our grand undertaking.
Like Nkrumah, he concluded that his country’s independence was a decisive step towards the liberation of the whole of Africa.
To the West, that speech meant a declaration of war. His candour was too piercing and humiliating for Belgium and its allies, especially the US.
To their chagrin, a firebrand like Nkrumah, or even more radical freedom fighter had emerged, threatening their interests.
He must be eliminated, dead or alive. How? Look for the enemies within and use them.
They enlisted Kasavubu and Tshombe, as well as Joseph Desire Mobutu, a 31-year-old army officer whom Lumumba had made his personal assistant.
Lumumba’s call for unity to develop the Congo fell on deaf ears. For almost immediately after independence, some units of the army mutinied against their Belgian officers, demanding improved service conditions and an indigenous hierarchy.
Tshombe used the ensuing confusion as pretext to lead the mineral-rich Katanga province to secede. Another province, Kasai, also broke away, leaving the Congo fragmented and fragile.
Belgium sent in troops, ostensibly, to protect its nationals, but in reality, to reinforce the secessionist regimes of Katanga and Kasai where they landed.
In line with their “divide and rule” tactic, the West backed Kasavubu and Tshombe’s push for regional autonomy against Lumumba’s moves to unify the country.
The embattled Prime Minister, called for help from the US unaware that the Americans were after him. Even his appeal to the UN proved futile,
While Lumumba was trying his best to save the situation, Kasavubu declared him dismissed from office. He retaliated, saying he had removed Kasavubu.
With the UN forces and the Belgians backing the rebels, Lumumba appealed to the Soviet Union for support to help his troops to quell the revolt, a move that alarmed Belgium, and its allies.
In the confusion, Mobutu staged a coup, not to reinstate the Prime Minister but to assassinate him with the connivance of the US and Belgium.
While under house arrest by rebel soldiers of Katanga and Belgian forces, Lumumba escaped, intending to flee to an area controlled by his forces.
But the Belgians and troops loyal to Mobutu, with the help of the CIA, hunted for him and murdered him and two of his aides in cold blood for no crime.
Mobutu ordered a mafia-style execution, looking on callously as they were shot, and their bodies hacked to pieces before being dissolved in acid.
That was on January 17, 1960, barely seven months after Lumumba gained independence for his country.
A Belgian officer who supervised the killings, took one of Lumumba’s teeth as a trophy to his country.
In June this year, after more than six decades, Belgium returned the tooth for burial after apologising for the atrocity meted out to Lumumba.
Mobutu became one of the worst despots in world history. He ruled for 32 years, killed a countless number of his compatriots like King Leopold did, and impoverished millions while he stashed away the country’s wealth in numerous personal foreign accounts.
As long as he remained a puppet of the West and did their bidding, they looked on unconcerned while the Congolese people languished in abject misery.
His country has never since found its feet.
By Tony Prempeh
Contact:
teepeejubilee@yahoo.com
When Abigail Fremah steps up to the Armwrestling table, the noise fades, the tension settles, and order takes over.
Despite a calm, but firm and meticulous disposition, she has become one of the quiet forces shaping Ghana’s growing reputation in the sport, not as an athlete, but a referee trusted on the continental stage.
Abigail’s journey into Armwrestling did not begin at the table. Like many Ghanaian sports enthusiasts, she grew up playing several disciplines. Football was her first love, but she also featured in volleyball and basketball during her school years. Sports, she says, was simply a way of life not just for her.
“It runs through the family. All my siblings are into sports,” she stated.
“I was involved in almost every sport in school, football, volleyball, netball, hockey; I did everything,” she recalls.
Her academic background in Health, Physical Education and Recreation laid a solid foundation for her sporting career. While on scholarship at the university (University of Cape Coast), she often used her modest budget to support young athletes, sometimes sharing skills and even T-shirts at programmes she attended. Giving back, she explains, has always been part of her motivation.
However, as she matured as an athlete, Abigail made a critical self-assessment.
“Armwrestling involves a lot of strength,” she admits. “Looking at my body type, I realised I couldn’t fit properly as a competitive athlete.”
That moment of honesty pushed her to a different trajectory but equally important path in sports; which is officiating.
During her National Service, she was encouraged by Mr Charles Osei Asibey, the President of the Ghana Armwrestling Federation (GAF), to consider officiating. He introduced her to a technical official, Mr Hussein Akuerteh Addy, who formally took her through the basics of Armwrestling officiating in 2021.
“I started as a case official,” she says. “We moved from region to region every week, officiating competitions. That’s where it all began.”
By 2022, Abigail was actively involved in national assignments, though she missed the African Championship that year. Her breakthrough came in 2023, when Ghana hosted the African Armwrestling Championship.
It was her first experience officiating at a major international competition and it changed everything.
“That was my first national and international exposure at the same time,” she says. “It really opened my eyes.”
Today, Abigail is a World Junior Armwrestling Referee, a status earned through performance, consistency and discipline. She explains that progression in officiating was not automatic.
“It’s all about performance, your appearance at African Championships, your conduct, how you handle pressure; that’s what takes you to the world level,” she stressed.
As a referee, Abigail’s priority is safety and fairness. Armwrestling, she notes, comes with risks, particularly injuries to the wrists, elbows, shoulders and arms.
“If athletes don’t follow the rules or refuse to listen to officials, injuries can happen,” she explains, adding that focus was everything.
Before every match, she ensures that all equipment which includes elbow pads, hand pegs and table alignment were properly set. Athletes are not allowed to cover their elbows, must grip correctly, and must follow the referee’s commands precisely.
“We make sure everything is fixed before the grip,” she says. “Once we say ‘Ready… Go’, there should be no confusion.”
She is also firm on discipline. Warnings are issued for infractions, and repeated misconduct attracts penalties.
“The referee must be respected, if you don’t listen, the rules will deal with you,” she says.
Abigail credits her confidence partly to her sporting family background. Her mother was a volleyball player, while other family members also participated in sports. Though they were initially concerned about her safety, her rise to the top reassured them.
“They were afraid at first,” she admits. “But they were also very proud, especially because some of them never got the opportunity to reach this level.”
Looking ahead, Abigail is optimistic about the future of Armwrestling in Ghana. In less than a decade, the country has produced African and world-level medalists, a sign, she believes, of great things to come for Ghana.
“Whenever we go out, we come back with medals such as gold and silver,” she says, and to her that was a sign of growth.
In the next five to ten years, Abigail sees herself rising to become a World Master Referee, the highest officiating level in the sport. Until then, her routine remains intense, training four times a week, working closely with athletes, standing on her feet for hours, and constantly refining her understanding of the rules.
“I love this sport,” she says simply. “That love is what keeps me going.”
Abigail encouraged women to be bold and intentional about their place in sports saying “don’t limit yourself because of fear or stereotypes.”
She also urged women to invest in learning, discipline and consistency, stressing that respect was earned through performance.
For Abigail, as Ghana’s armwrestlers continue to make their mark, she will remain where she is most effective at the table, ensuring the game is played right.
By Esinam Jemima Kuatsinu
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As he had promised Aperkeh, the elderly man and his wife and three daughters stopped by Aperkeh’s parents’ house. Mr Amando and his family were preparing to settle in for the night.
“Brother Ben and family”, Mr Joshua Amando said warmly, “although I know you are here on a matter that can hardly be described as joyous, it is still good to see you. You are welcome. Please sit down while I bring you water”.
“Yes, we will take water, even though we are hardly thirsty, because this is our home”.
“Okay, Ben”, he started after they had drank, “Let me go straight to the point. My daughter Priscilla has told me about the goings on between her brother Aperkeh and our daughter Stella.
Before informing me, Priscilla had expressed concern to Aperkeh about some habits he is adopting, especially the late nights and the drinking. She tells me that one Saturday morning, she was there when Stella complained about his drinking and some girls who had come to the house to look for him, and he assaulted her.
I called him and complained, but all he could say was that I don’t know what caused him to react that way, so I could not judge him. Now he does not answer my calls.
I have sent Priscilla to his house to call him, but he has refused to come. Unfortunately, Ben, my son is a much different person than the young boy who completed university and started work at the bank. I am really embarrassed about his treatment of Stella”.
“Joshua, let me assure you that even though what is happening is very unfortunate, it will not affect our relationship.
We have been friends since childhood, and I thought that with their parents’ blessing, the relationship between Aperkeh and Stella would grow to become a blessing to all of us. But there appears to be a real challenge now.
Stella thinks that Aperkeh wants her out of his house, and indeed Aperkeh himself told me that, about an hour ago.
So I’m taking my daughter home. I suggest that you do what you can to straighten him out, but if it does not work out, let’s accept the situation and continue to be one family.
I am sure that being the well behaved girl that she is, Stella will meet a young man who will cherish her. Fortunately, this problem is happening early in the day, so they can sort things out if possible, or move on with their lives if they are unable to stay together”.
“I’m really grateful for that, Ben. I will do my best in the next few days to reason with him, because apart from the relationship with Stella, Aperkeh is risking his job and career with this lifestyle.
A good job and salary offers an opportunity to gather momentum in life, not to destroy yourself”.
“Okay Brother Joshua. We will say goodnight. I hope to hear positive news from you”.
As he descended in the lift from the fourth to the ground floor, Aperkeh wondered who would be waiting at the reception to see him at nine on Monday morning. He had spent good time with both of his new girls during the weekend, so it had to be someone else. He got out of the lift and pulled a face when he saw Priscilla.
“Priscilla”, he said as he sat down by her, “what do you want here? You know Monday morning is a busy time at the bank. I am a very busy person, so say what you want, I have work to do”.
“You are very funny, Aperkeh. You are telling me, your sister, that you have work to do, so I should hurry up? Okay, Dad says I should advise you to come home tonight, because he wants to discuss the issue of Stella with you. He sent me to you twice, and you did not come.
He has tried to call you quite a number of times, but you have refused to answer his calls. He says that if you do not come tonight, you will be very surprised at what he will do. He says you will not like it at all, so better come.
“What is all this? Why won’t you people leave me alone? Stella is very disrespectful. I told her that if she wanted to continue to live in my house, she must obey me. It is that simple.
She chose to continue ordering me about, controlling me in my own house, so I told her that if she could not live under my conditions she should leave. And she left. In fact, her own father came and took her away. So what again?’’
“How did she disobey or control you? Was she complaining about your continuous drinking and late nights? And did you slap her on several occasions because of that? Did you tell her that if she could not live under your conditions she should leave? You actually said that to her father? You have forgotten that before she came to live with you, our two parents met and agreed, and gave it their blessing?’
“Why don’t you leave, Priscilla? I don’t have to listen to all that”. “Okay, I will go. Your father who gave birth to you and educated you to university level sends me to you, and you ask me to leave? I wish you would defy him, and refuse to come home as he’s telling you, because he is planning to give you the discipline you badly need. Let me tell you. Stella is such a beautiful and decent girl, and I assure you that someone will grab her before you say Jack. You are only 30 years old, and you have already become a drunkard”.
As he walked towards the lift, Aperkeh decided on what to do. He would go home, and calmly listen to what his father had to say. The old man was very unpredictable, and he wouldn’t dare ignore him. So he would take all the insults and threats, but as for Stella she was history. According to Priscilla, Stella was beautiful and all that, but she had not seen the two curvaceous princesses who were all over him, ready to do anything he asked. And these were not barely literate waakye girls, but university graduates from wealthy homes, really classy girls. With stuff like that, who needs a waakye girl? He smiled as he took his seat.
A few minutes to five, Aperkeh was packing up to leave for home to meet his dad when his phone rang. It was Priscilla.
“Aperkeh, Dad says you don’t need to bother to come. Stella’s dad says she came to him early this morning to plead that she would rather stay at home than return to your house. She thinks you are already decided to be rid of her, and she does not want to risk being assaulted again. So it’s done. You can go ahead and enjoy the nice life you have started”.
Before he could tell her to go to hell, Priscilla hanged up the line. He was partially stung that his dad had virtually cut him off. The last thing anyone would want was to fall out of relationship with his own family, which had always supported him.
But the truth was he was no longer interested in Stella. What was wrong with going by one’s feelings? He could only hope that one day, his parents and sister would try to reason with him.
By Ekow de Heer
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