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SAME TRAIN
‘‘Same Train carry mother,
‘’Same Train; same Train;
‘’Same Train carry my father;
‘’Same Train carry my brother;
‘’Same Train carry my sister;
‘’Same Train;
‘’Same Train.’’
We were taught to sing ‘’Same Train’’. We learned it is called a ‘’Negro Spiritual.’’ And we did so with gusto at the Kindergarten. The lyrics had no immediate implication for us. So we innocently did not recognize the painful nostalgia which prompted them, unlike the cry in Lamentations Chapter Five particularly. Then we later during the late 30s learned of the ‘’Slave Trade’’. We also learned that some of ancestors participated to get rich. In retrospect, I make it five phases in our Continental history, there had been five phases of becoming wealthy outside of formal trade in whatever else: [i] conquests-loot ; [ii] colonial favors in return for collaboration—scholarships for Kids, relatives and appointments which facilitated the purloining of our treasures, ingrained bribery via largess, creating class; [iii] a culture [actually kulturkampf] of cheating through the paucity of professional know-howers; [iv] pre-independence miseading of ‘winner takes all’; and [v] ‘’Wabenzy’’ the Mercedes Benz signaling political graft progressed into apparently what we have presently. Independence did not initiate a renaissance of back to roots to nurture adopting to adapt systemically. It has been pile on, undergirded by partisanship. Talk and protest about racism hardly discern that it is here. Anyway, let’s freeze my peroration momentarily because the puzzle, if that is, would explain itself away eventually.
Problem is I have always thought that something very significant link up was missing after the abolition of Slave Trade 1865. The phases I have previously sketched were deemed honorable and the best route to achieve, from distinction through influence to confident. Those were also felt as the honest means to earn deserved respect. The key- note which labels it INTEGRITY in private and public. The goals today are said ostensibly to motivate a re-writing of history such as the World is witnessing in the revolt of the ‘colored race’ presently.
The wave of demonstrations against racism and policing spreads and intensifies. For all of its forms, there is only one character common; and this ‘’ANGER’’ which dates back 1918, the end of World War I—slavery had been abolished in the preceding top half of the prior century and the European Colonialists begun a gradual-forced to wrap up and decolonize. Hiccups occurred and the momentum went into stutters dragged into post-World War –II. It is to be noted that the US had not been in that League all that while. Its imperialism consisted of territorial conquests for place to settle, slavery was its adjunct for construction into wealth. But that had officially been abrogated.
It meant the free slaves could live side by side, making life according to ‘work-for-yourself’ without impeded and not treated as down-trodden, yet to be completed for centuries now. European decolonization and evidence of the counter-part ‘’Free Colored’’ into sovereign National States lit the possibility for the Negroes to push their rights in the ‘’New World’’ as it was called. After years of principled dialogues, from marches, often raucous and with the full support of newly independent Africa and Asia at the UN [1945-1975] and the half-shut-mind agreement of the European principal former Colonialists led by Britain, shifted American intransigence to juggle basic racists misconducts to accommodate equality from where eventually, the ‘’Negro’’ became ‘’Afro-American.’’ And its failure represents the street pitched-battles, a running global news headlines.
All of these have a single loss practically, because it obscures the goal and indeed plays into the hands of Resistors. The mini-uprisings have given White America a nightmare whose reaction is to resist into current hostile xenophobia as the ‘’Afros’’ press their case. Then here we are at the junction of a hell-threatening stalemate in a very discordant world as if there is no other solution than flying bricks, tiles, Molotov cocktails, burning-tyres road blocks, take the knee and get responses in knee-choker, tear gas and live shots on killing spree, because ‘they are black, it is said and believed conclusively because there is no other tangible excuse to contradicted.
The attacks and counter would have to taper off and the questions are: what did we achieve and is the circus of violence and protests over?. The whole game seems to me to be that each side strides into cessation with pyrrhic trophies. That leaves the ‘’Trojan Horse’’ to re-open by another incendiary—not George Floyd. I think without waiting for that, it is time for quiet reflection bringing back memory lane’s experiences and lessons to foster the new approach to gain the goal—if you don’t mind the hype, the ‘golden fleece’ to shut down a filthy era. The re-call dwells in the mid-fifties struggles in Africa, Asia, the Pacific and the Caribbean [Windies] for independence. It combined wars and heinous brutalities.
At a juncture similar to today’s crises across the world for color-equality, WHITEE had to reach out to negotiating, more than less in the knowledge that it is best for peace against the carnage, cost and enlarging global outrage. Talks about talks brought settlements however long they took like Southern Rhodesia, Ceylon, Cyprus and Vietnam where America lost the war to Ho Chi-Mihn to unify the then two Vietnams. That veiled compulsion from sheer fatigue and essentially the global reproach for the senselessness of apartheid South Africa for instance collectively made gigantic contribution for the dust to simmer and of course after the independence euphoria throughout, the Recipients today have themselves to blame for the variety of botches, looking intractable but they are working at them with glimmer of hope and huge disappointments in let downs.
That perhaps epitomizes Dr Nkrumah’s ‘’we prefer self-government with or in danger to servitude in tranquility.’’ The days are far gone with that. The current eruption needs a different definition target for pursuit, which is what the renaissance is about. However, in its nature historically between Church and State as in politics, it moves only to live with the old order, satisfied that the Establishment has understood the quakes. In deliberate reference to such posthumous discovery, the driving point is to encourage-propose set about re-thinking basic attitudes towards history of the African or indeed the
Our own revered John Kofi Mensah Sarbah urged the following once and I find it pertinent: ‘’Let us therefore formally acknowledge our own limitations, not with an intention to rest and be thankful, but to make good our defects and press on to a higher level of usefulness.’’ Most American Writers are describing this torrid time as Phase-II of Decolonization saying inter alia, ‘’if colonialism made the modern world, decolonization cannot be complete until the world –including Europe—is remade.’’(Adom Getachew; NY Times 27 July 2020).
None in all of the pieces for or against goings-on specify significant departures from the present old style campaigning of hell creation. There is a commonly approved assumption for examples that the hauling down of colonial Statues, scrawling graffiti and destroying both slavery and colonial landmarks necessarily are good tools to change the innate color-hatreds, empirically and ultimately. I doubt and differ. The dangerous consequences are the reversal of what wants correction in terms of where is the story ?. Erasure of that evidence leaves no one with a history. And received wisdom stipulates that a country [people] without a history does not exist.
Such defaults apart from the vacuum for any chercher du temps perdu, are caused by anger; and or hatred probably bound in envy of sort. Neither does good nor pleases posterity for both pride and shame. For a quick list, the Afghan Taliban bombed giant Statues, the Russians removed Joseph Stalin for reburial elsewhere, the Chinese don’t remember Mao Tse Tung, Trump disdains Dr Martin Luther King [Obama? Sacrilege for Trump]and replaces his portrait with Sir Winston Churchill’s.
But history hides this fact that the man was reportedly a racist, the general British type – not crude ‘Enoch Powellite’; but seemingly benign to most patronizing, irrespective of moot. That is an unwanted sensitivity to state. In any case it reconnects, writing-wise, the cauldron back home in the US where no one knows it leads. For sure, we are not going sing ‘’Hello Dolly’’ yet; but we can expect to feel like ‘’What a wonderful world’’—
‘’The colors of the rainbow
‘’So pretty in the skies
‘’I see friends shaking hands
‘’Say: How do you do?
‘’They really saying
‘’I love you…’’
I mean we can achieve this in another way. It was mainly the coloured nascent countries which swelled the UN in numbers but weight and huge meaning –51 to 144 between 1945 and 75. That outnumbering, despite the East-West misuse of the ‘’veto powers’’ which they instituted for themselves, itself a blatant discrimination, the new entrants lost it by wrongly walking out. It seems to me on short r eflection back to the 80s, this error was realized and the evidence was UNCTAD at Cancun, when the group stood up ‘’poor’’ against the unscrupulous ‘’rich’’ and rattled them well. The lot fell back got smug and not until again, the Anglo-US to clobber others into supporting the invasion of Iraq. At least the AU unanimously rejected the bid at the Summit in Paris to persuade a summersault and failed. By the close before each Head of State arrived back home, the US declared to accord 35 of them ‘’most favored state status’’ plus cash.
It is irrelevant raking mud to ask for accounting of that money if that was received at all because it could be sadly typical of us, gone. The more profitable wisdom deriving but constantly ignored for whatever reason(s) is that after’’ push’’ against not only WHITEE as in this case specifically, the ‘’shove’’ leads to sit down to talk. It is a natural sequitur outside of continuous or contentious bellicose, which has solved nothing to date. The only alternative is ‘’dispute resolution’’. Remember the Brits called in a Canadian military officer to snatch peace after long years of the IRA. In the US it might be argued immediately that the Dr Martin Luther-King March struck a deal. Better bitter truth regrettably is that we did not follow up through to logical conclusions meant. Consider that we failed everywhere to cultivated pursue the goals. The time to go for it, couldn’t be better than today, if we all mean’’ life matters’’—black or white. Sincerely.
©Prof nana essilfie-conduah.
Features
The wonders of love…

A haircut I had about a week ago didn’t go down well with many. Someone quite close to my heart saw it, examined it critically and felt dizzy.
“What’s this?” she proceeded to ask me.
“An international hairdo,” I replied.
She was disgusted, in fact disappointed. The problem with the haircut is that the style is neither Punk, Tokyo Joe nor Show Your Back. If anything, it is a combination of all—and I liked it, for a change.
It was when I bounded downtown that someone called me and enquired whether I was no longer a journalist. He said I looked like a well-fed Warrant Officer.
“Class One or Class Two?” I asked.
Another studied my head as if he was studying physical geography and pronounced that I looked like a boxer who can throw dangerous punches. Still, someone was of the opinion that the haircut didn’t quite fit me, but admitted that I looked like a prosperous merchant.
Commendation
I remember some three months ago, I had a haircut that made two girls fall in love with me. In spite of the fact that the barber was not a graduate, the cut was such that they couldn’t help admiring it. One of them actually ‘checked out’ the style and commended the barber.
The other was more bent on the ‘love matter’ but I was too busy to give her any attention. LOVE!
I was reminded of this when I viewed a premier showing of the latest Sikaman film titled THE POWER OF LOVE. The film kept me thinking. Some of us have long forgotten about what it is like to be head-over-heels in love. When we were students, we had such experiences because there was nothing doing anyway.
We were either learning how stylishly to smoke ‘jot’ or how romantically to fall in love. Anyhow, I was intrigued by this latest movie because of the way love unlimited was portrayed on screen. It took my memory back many years to relive those youthful days when we felt we’d really die if jilted by our lovers.
The storyline of THE POWER OF LOVE is really an exciting one. The combination of love, treachery and intrigue made me feast my eyes intently on the screen, unbelieving the extent the force of love can reach.
Ama and Afua are good friends. But when it comes to matters of the heart, they have different tastes; Ama is content with only her boyfriend (a student) and Afua samples the bigwigs around town. Afua, not satisfied with the shots in town, wants Ama’s boyfriend Joe in addition. She lies to Joe that Ama has often been picked by a man on four-wheels, whereupon Joe dismisses Ama and takes on Afua.
Ama doesn’t realise that it is her best friend Afua who is destroying her relationship with Joe until she catches her having sex with him. She collapses and goes out of her mind from the broken heart. But before then, she had been made pregnant by Joe.
Having escaped from a psychiatric hospital, she roams town murmuring Joe’s name. Heavily pregnant now, she espies Joe boarding a mini bus and runs towards him. Joe, seeing her approaching, quickly disembarks and takes off.
Ama pursues him furiously, and he runs to his home where he finds his bosom friend Frank making love to Afua. He immediately realises the treachery of Afua who instigated him to leave Ama.
He intends leaving the home in disgust and meets mad Ama at the door and embraces her despite her madness. Instantly, she regains her sanity.
Love indeed heals the wounds of the mind and it is the greatest positive force in the world. Incidentally, the greatest negative force is hatred.
Greatest force
Now coming to talk about love, I reiterate it is the greatest force imaginable. That is why a man will butcher his rival to death if he catches him climbing his wife without asking permission; and a woman will go mad if jilted.
It is also for this reason that a young boy who is scared stiff of cemeteries and under normal circumstances would not dare go near one, will this time walk boldly through a cemetery at midnight if that is the only way to his lover’s abode.
The Bible describes love for our neighbours as the surest way to heaven: Love thy neighbour as thyself.
Unfortunately, what Ghanaians are more interested and skilful in is loving the opposite sex. Romance under the cover of darkness is what we understand love to be all about. When it comes to loving our fellow human beings, we are found wanting.
People hate others just because they are of another tribe and do not speak the same native language. Too much grudge-bearing that does not augur well for national development.
War in Liberia, carnage in Rwanda are the results of the absence of love for one’s fellow being. If everybody could express a little bit of love for his fellow being irrespective of tribe, race, politics or religion, Sikaman—and indeed, the world—will be a more habitable place.
This article was first published on Saturday, October 29, 1994
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Features
Monsieur’s daughter – (Part 7)
“Sir,” Ms. Odame said when David Asante answered the call, “my name is Victoria Odame. I’m a teacher at Research School in Koforidua. I would like to come and see you concerning a student called Sarah.”
“Okay, madam. I would be very glad to meet you. How can I make your trip easier?”
“I was going to join a bus to Accra.”
“Here’s what we will do. Take a taxi and ask them to bring you to Accra. I will speak to the driver, give him the directions, and pay him when you get here.”
The taxi stopped in front of the house. The gate opened, and the driver moved to the long driveway and stopped.
“What a beautiful house,” he said.
David and Adoma came out to meet them. Adoma paid the driver as David and Sarah stared at each other.
“Please come in and sit down,” Adoma invited. She served them water.
“You are welcome,” Adoma continued. “We have been waiting anxiously since you called this morning. So please, let’s hear you.”
Before she could open her mouth, Sarah rose, moved to David, hugged him, and sat on his lap. They both broke into tears. Adoma and Ms. Odame also broke into tears.
“Sorry, madam,” David said. “This whole episode has been a very difficult one. But let’s do the proper thing. Let’s hear you first, and I will also speak. I’m sure we need to answer some questions immediately.”
“Okay, sir. I have been taking an interest in Sarah because, although she’s brilliant academically, she seemed to be troubled. Following my discussions with her and some whispers I had been hearing, I went to Aboso Senior High School and spoke to your former colleague, Mr. Hanson. He told me that you were an exemplary teacher who was loved by all, and he also told me about the unfortunate events that caused you to leave for Germany. So I returned to Koforidua with the view to finding the appropriate means of helping to solve this problem.”
“Great. Ms. Odame, I have to thank you for finally helping us to solve this problem. Now, let me state the facts. This is what happened.
“Gladys and I met and got married whilst we were both teachers in the school. Some months into our marriage, she told me that she needed to spend some days with her parents, and I agreed.
“It turned out that she was actually spending time in a hotel with her ex-boyfriend, Simon. This happened again after Sarah was born. I got wind of this and told her that I was no longer interested in the marriage.
“I started preparing to travel to Germany. She pleaded for forgiveness, but I stood my ground. Then she told me that she would punish me for rejecting her.
“She came out later to say that Sarah was not my child, but Simon’s. She went and hid her somewhere, obviously expecting that I would fight to take my child. I was actually going to do that, but my parents advised me that it was almost impossible to win such a fight.
“They advised that, difficult as it sounded, I should leave the child with her because she would come back to me eventually. I have absolutely no problem taking care of you, Sarah. I am taking care of quite a number of kids who are not mine. So that is what happened. My hands were tied. I have been trying to find out how you are doing.
“I kept hearing that you were doing well at school. I also heard that Gladys and her husband were having problems, but I kept hoping that my daughter would at least be okay till it was possible for me to go for her.”
“Sarah, now you have met your dad. You will be free to—”
“I’m not going anywhere!” she declared as she held on to him.
“You don’t have to worry about that, Sarah,” Adoma said. “We have been looking forward to the day you come home. This is your home. Now, you have to meet your siblings.” She called Abrefi and Adaawa.
“Girls, we told you that you have a sister who would join us anytime. Now here she is.”
“Sarah?” Abrefi asked.
“Yes,” Adoma replied. The girls hugged her and took her away.
“Now,” David said, “I think it is time to call Madam Gladys.” He dialed the number.
“My name is David Asante. I’m here in my house with my daughter Sarah. I hear you have told her all sorts of crazy stories about me. I could make life very difficult for you, but I won’t.
“You are your own worst enemy. I don’t think you should be expecting her anytime soon. What do you say?”
Gladys stayed silent for over a minute, then cut the line.
“Food is ready,” Adoma announced. “Everybody, please come to the table.”
Sarah chatted excitedly with her siblings as Adoma and David spoke with Ms. Odame. She kept staring at her father.
“Now, Ms. Odame, after you have brought such joy into our home, should we allow you to go back to Koforidua today, or should we wait till we are ready to release you? I could call your husband and ask permission.
“And please don’t tell me you didn’t bring anything for an overnight stay. There are several supermarkets around here. We can fix that problem quickly.”
“I will beg you to release me. Now that I have been so warmly welcomed here, I already feel part of this home. Koforidua is not that far away, so I will visit often.”
“Well, let’s see what the kids have to say. Ladies, shall I release Ms. Odame to go back to Koforidua?”
“No!” they shouted, and all broke into laughter.
“Ms. Odame, I will have mercy on you. But we are going to do something to make it easy for you to visit us. My wife wants to show you something. Please follow her.”
Adoma led her to the driveway as the others followed. They stopped in front of the car.
“This is a Toyota Corolla 1600. It is very reliable and good on petrol consumption. We are giving this to you in appreciation of your help in getting our daughter back to us.
“And here in this envelope is a little contribution to help you with maintenance. And here in this other envelope is a gift to help with your children’s school fees.”
As she stood, stunned, and stared from the car to the envelopes, David put his hand around his family.
“Let’s leave her to take a look at her car. Ms. Odame, one of my drivers will drive you to Koforidua and leave your car with you. We are waiting inside.”
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