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Foray into journalism…. Editor retires
Mr Emmanuel Amponsah
As we grow up we fantasise about being one thing or the other. We want to be teachers because we see them as very knowledgeable. We want to be nurses as they are neatly dressed. Many others fancy being doctors, pilots, engineers and many more.
When I resisted going to school and was asked what I wanted to do, I quickly responded I wanted to be a washerman. But this desire evaporated as an uncle told me I would need to write the names of my clients in case they brought identical items.
As time went on I saw my own prowess in the study of Geography as a subject. I again thought of being a soldier, but in my ignorance I thought it was not feasible since I did not grow a moustache. Teaching did not feature under any circumstance. My Geography improved when I went to secondary school.
Finally, I made up my mind to read either Geomorphology or Climatology. I can proudly say I was easily the best Geography student but the final examination did not favour me in the subject. I was devastated. I ended up going to train as a teacher at the Presbyterian Training College, Akropong.in the Eastern Region of Ghana.
On one vacation in Accra from Madonna school at Koforidua, I phoned the Editor of the *Weekly Spectator* to inquire if I could write a column for the paper. The Editor, a Mr. Kwesi Woode, as he said his name was, asked me to forward three scripts to his office. I told him I could only write on situations as they unfolded and he said he could not help. I knew it was his right to turn me down.
My flair for writing was ignited by a Ms. Elizabeth Suhre, an American Peace Corps volunteer who taught me English Language for three years. Sometime in 1971 there was a national essay competition on the subject, “What should the National Service Corps do?” It was during the premiership of Dr. Kofi Abrefa Busia.
My essay was one of two selected for the Keta District. Mine was picked for the Regionals at Ho. Again, my essay was picked to represent Volta Region at the national level. The final draw did not come off before Busia was overthrown by soldiers on January 13, 1972.
As fate would have it, I got my Advanced Diploma in Journalism and Professional Writing. Now I had two professions; a teacher and journalist. I have written quite a bit under pseudonyms, some sermons under pseudonyms and Astrological predictions in the same manner.
Having done radio, television and print I came to the conclusion that anything on radio and television goes with the wind, but the written material lingers forever, even in spite of the fact that with ICT, materials anywhere can be stored and retrieved.
In December of 2020 I presented an Astrological predictions and perspective on Election 2020 to the *Daily Graphic* for publication. As was their right to do, the Night Editor of the paper got my write-up removed from the paper. I admit that our personal beliefs and biases can be brought to bear on our vocations. But it was his right to do what he did.
Then, out of the blue I got a call from a number I did not have in my phone contacts. He identified himself as the Editor of the *Weekly Spectator* asking if I could write a column for the paper. I did not think twice before accepting the offer. He made it clear that the company did not have money and I told him I did not expect payment.
So, on Saturday the 4th of December in 2020 *Random Muses* began on these pages with the very write-up *Daily Graphic* rejected. According to my Editor, some sceptics on the subject of astrology called him after the Election 2020 to express their wonder at the predictions.
Two weeks ago as I got my newspapers delivered to me I saw on the front page that my Editor had retired. I recall he had mentioned before the last Christmas period that he would retire this year, but I thought it might be in December. Let me make a confession: I have never set eyes on my Editor, Mr Emmanuel Amponsah.
We only communicate by phone or email. I can imagine what he may have gone through publishing my write-ups, especially since I state my mind without inhibition on any subject matter. Knowing how toxic our national discourse can be, writing on national issues is one thing, but having the courage to put them on the pages of a national paper is something else.
I usually tell Mr. Amponsah he should feel free to edit or get me to change my write-ups to save his skin from intolerant politicians who may call to rebuke him, but he tells me he would do no such thing as touch my scripts. I salute my Editor for his courage and professionalism and also for his independent mindedness.
This is what is expected of a professional journalist: independent mindedness. Those who buckle under political pressure/influence and those who fear to lose their positions are threats to national development and progress.
Talking about political pressure brings me to respond to a reader who sent me an email asking why I do not appear on television any longer. It was a good observation. True, I used to appear on newspaper review programmes on television until three years ago. At this point I was paired with Captain Joel Kwami Sowu, a nationalist to the core.
One morning, the young, hardworking and dynamic producer called to tell me that his management had decided to split Captain Sowu and me so that each of us would be paired with different panellists. Naturally, I asked if there was a problem. He answered that a call came from the communication department of the New Patriotic Party (NPP) demanding such action.
According to him, the NPP requested that we should be paired with one of their communicators to ‘counter’ whatever we had to say. My first reaction was “nonsense.” What I know of Captain Sowu is that he has an independent mind and has no partisan leanings. A fiercely political individual, Joel is not afraid of stating his opinions without fear.
First, we did not know what the newspapers published until we got to the studio, so how could a political party know what we were going to say so as to ‘counter’ us? It did not make sense to me and I told the young producer that I would get back to him after I had spoken to Captain Sowu.
When I narrated this to Joel, all he said in response was, “Akofa, if you buy into this nonsense, go ahead and appear on the newspaper review programmes.” I have stayed away from that station ever since. If a media organisation wants to dance to political music it is within their right to do so.
I have appeared on programmes with very seasoned and matured minds in the NPP, NDC, CPP and PNC. I can easily recall the likes of lawyers Kwame Jantuah and Tom Mawusi, Hon. Catherine Afeku, Philip Longdon, Bernard Mornah, Kwaku Baako Jnr, Egbert Faibile, Joe Jackson, Professors Nii Noi Dowuona and Nana Essilfi Conduah and many others I cannot recall immediately.
I am glad to stay away because I cringe when I hear some of these young, intolerant upstarts throwing insults at people who hold opposing views to theirs. Imagine calling a Paramount Chief a propagandist of another party and another saying a co-panellist was not qualified to be the president’s houseboy. The simple rule is to state your view and let others state theirs. There are some from the NDC who do no better.
Fortunately, no political party has ever asked me to communicate on their behalf. When I appear on a programme I see the whole nation as my constituency and address issues dispassionately. Let me make another confession: I voted religiously for NPP’s Nana Akomea since 1996 until he decided not to enter Parliament any longer. Even after I left the constituency in 1997 I kept my vote there till he left.
I vote for people I am convinced can deliver, not on flimsy emotional or for sentimental reasons. It is for this reason that I doff my hat to Mr Emmanuel Amponsah. He did not ask my political leaning though he may know now that I am an unrepentant admirer of the Osagyefo Dr Kwame Nkrumah and his Pan Africanist philosophy.
Once a journalist, I believe Mr. Amponsah will remain a journalist. I welcome him to the Club of Retirees. I wish my Editor the best in any endeavour he undertakes in retirement. I am convinced that his successor will accept me for who I am.
Writer’s email address:
akofa45@yahoo.com
By Dr. Akofa K. Segbefia
Walk into any supermarket in Accra, Kumasi, or Tamale today, and you will see the modern Ghanaian diet packaged as ‘progress.’ You will see breakfast cereals with cartoon mascots, fruit drinks that are mostly sugar and colour, and snacks promising energy and happiness in bright fonts.
Even products loaded with salt and unhealthy fats often wear a health halo labeled as fortified or natural, while the real nutritional risk is hidden in tiny print on the back. This is not just a consumer inconvenience; it is a public health blind spot. Ghana is living through a silent surge of non-communicable diseases (NCDs) like hypertension, diabetes, and stroke.
These conditions quietly drain household income and steal productive years. According to the Ghana Health Service (GHS) and World Health Organisation (WHO) estimates, NCDs are now responsible for nearly 45 per cent of all deaths in Ghana.
We cannot build a healthy nation on a food environment designed to confuse people at the point of purchase. Ghana must mandate simple front-of-pack warning labels (FOPWL) on high-sugar, high-salt, and high-fat packaged foods because consumers deserve truth at a glance, and industry must be pushed to reformulate.
Why Back-of-Pack Labels Are Not Enough
In theory, consumers can read nutrition panels. In reality, most Ghanaians shop under pressure, limited time, rising prices, and children tugging at their sleeves. The back label is a relic that requires a high cognitive load to interpret—essentially, the seller knows what is inside, but the buyer cannot easily tell.
This ‘information asymmetry’ is not fair. It is not consumer choice when the information needed to choose well is deliberately difficult to find.
Simple warning labels like the black octagons used in the Chilean Model act as a ‘stop-and-think’ nudge. They do not ban products but they simply tell the truth so people can decide.
Reshaping Our Food Environment
A generation ago, Ghana’s meals were mostly home-prepared, like kenkey and banku with soups and stews. Today, ultra-processed foods have become the norm, especially in urban areas. Children are growing up with sugary drinks and salty snacks as everyday items, not occasional treats.
If Ghana is serious about prevention, we must act where decisions are made—thus, the shelf. Warning labels protect parents from sugar traps and pressure the market to improve. When warning labels are mandatory, manufacturers start to compete to make healthier recipes to avoid the stigma of the label.
Addressing the Pushback
Industry will argue that labels create fear or that education alone is enough. However, health education is slow; labels work immediately. While the informal street food sector is a challenge, regulating pre-packaged goods is the practical starting point because the supply chain is traceable. We cannot wait until the whole system is perfect; we must start where action is feasible.
A 2026 Implementation Roadmap for Ghana
To move from talk to action, Ghana needs this 5-step plan:
- Issue mandatory regulation: The Ministry of Health, Food and Drug Authority (FDA), and Ghana Standards Authority (GSA) must define the label format and nutrient thresholds for all pre-packaged foods.
- Simple, bold symbols: Use plain language and clear symbols, such as “HIGH IN SUGAR,” designed for busy families, not experts.
- Transparent thresholds: Adopt technically defensible standards adapted to the Ghanaian diet.
- Transition and enforce: Provide a 12–18 month period for manufacturers to reformulate, followed by firm enforcement at ports and retail centers.
- National literacy campaign: The Ghana Health Service must pair labels with public messages explaining why high salt or sugar increases disease risk.
Conclusion: Truth Is Not a Luxury
Prevention is cheaper than treatment. A warning label costs little compared to the price of dialysis, stroke rehabilitation, or lifelong diabetes complications. A black octagon on a box of biscuits is more than a label; it is a shield for the health of all Ghanaians. It is time to put the truth where we can see it, right on the front.
By Abigail Amoah Sarfo
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Natives of the Kenkey Kingdom were mad with joy. They were still recovering from the hangover of the kingdom’s loss of the African Cup when their spirits were rekindled. Their great warrior, Zoom Zoom, stormed Melbourne and made sure that every Australian refused food. And that was after he had drawn contour lines on the face of their idol, Jeff Fenech.
Not only did the terrible warrior transform Old Boy Jeff’s face into a contour map useful for geography lessons, but he also accomplished the feat of retaining the much-envied super-kenkeyweight title against all odds. The warrior had not been eating hot kenkey for nothing.
The Fight Against Fenech
When Jeff Fenech bit the dust in the eighth round, I was tempted to consider if Adanko Deka could not have faced him in any twelve-rounder, title or non-title bout. Adanko has improved tremendously, and soon he would be facing Pernell Whitaker.
Sincerely, I was pessimistic about Azumah’s man, who the last time took him through twelve grueling rounds of rough boxing. I expressed my fears to my colleague Christian Abbew, alias Gbonyo, who surprisingly had total confidence that the Australian brawler would fall, predictably in Round Five.
Gbonyo gave reasons for his contention, all of which I counteracted using the age factor. Fact is, I didn’t know that contrary to the laws of nature, Azumah was all the time growing younger.
When Fenech fell briefly in round one, I asked my brother whether it was the same Fenech that fought Azumah in Las Vegas. Sure, it was the same Fenech, all out to beat Azumah before his countrymen.
But the African Professor had no intention of making the Australian a hero. As he spun round the desperate Aussie, dancing and stinging out his jabs, it was not too long before I realized that the end was near.
The Eighth Round Showdown
Two minutes into the eighth round, the African ring-master proved to the whole world that he was a true son of Bukom. He himself was cornered, but like the tough nut he is, he managed to break free before overwhelming the panting Australian with several blows that made him crash headlong.
Moments after, the referee, expressing fatherly sympathy, stopped the fight to prevent an obituary. After the ordeal, Fenech’s fairly handsome face was full of newly constructed hills, valleys, ox-bow lakes—whatever. I noticed that his nose was very tired and had a miniature volcano sitting restlessly on it. Obviously, Jeff’s wife will have to nurse that nose back to its normal shape—but I’d advise her not to use iodine, otherwise her dear husband will wail like a banshee.
Reflections on Boxing
Because Mohammed Ali was the kind of boxer kids liked, many school-going kids often entertained the wish of becoming like him. I remember one day when I told my father I wanted to become a boxer, and he advised me to first complete my education to the highest level. Then, if I decided to become a boxer and was knocked out a couple of times, I’d fall back on my degrees and make a living.
Boxing used to be interesting when bouts were fought more with the mouth and tongue than with gloves. You had to brag well, psychologically belittling your opponent before beating him up physically. Mohammed Ali became a very successful pugilist because he also managed to become a poet. He often blew his horn across America, calling himself the “pretty boxer” and opponents like Joe Frazier “the gorilla.”
Ali made a living fighting hard fists like Joe Frazier, Ken Norton, Jerry Quarry, George Foreman, Leon Spinks, and Trevor Berbick. Twice he came back from retirement to fight just for money. It was Larry Holmes who finally pensioned him, and since then the great Ali has never been himself.
The Path Ahead for Azumah
When Azumah nailed Jeff Fenech on the cross and barked almost immediately that he was after the head of Pernell Whitaker, I was happy but concerned. I would have been happier if he had announced his resignation there and then—he would have been more of a hero. Beating Fenech in Australia is more newsworthy than facing Whitaker in the States.
With Whitaker, it might be a little difficult. The “Sweet Pea” is agile, has a crooked body like a snake with diarrhea, and stands awkwardly as a southpaw. He is known for having the fastest pair of fists and the rare ability to dodge punches no matter how close they may be.
Much as I do not doubt that Azumah can take his title, I also don’t want him to retire beaten. I want him to retire as a hero and live a fuller, healthy life.
As Azumah himself said after dishing Fenech, he is now a professor and has something to show for it. Like a true professor, I think it is time he resigned and took up training young talents who could draw inspiration from him and become like him in the future.
Closing Thoughts
I must say that although ageing boxers like Larry Holmes and George Foreman are making a name for themselves, boxing is not like the Civil Service, where you can even change your age and retire at 74. Zoom Zoom has delighted the hearts of the natives, and Sikaman will forever hold him in high esteem—but only when he retires as a hero.
This article was first published on Saturday, March 7, 1992.
