Features
Of moods & anger
Sikaman Palava
My bosom friend Kofi Kokotako had the ‘impudence’ of a dead cock-roach. It was at a food-eating competition where he surprised the devil himself. Yes, Mr James Lucifer was awed because Kofi ate like a demon and won the competition hands down.
He started with six hefty balls of kenkey and palmnut soup. Soon after, he followed it with eba and okro soup which he swallowed like a hungry Yoruba carpenter.
The quantity could have satisfied three famishing construction labourers.
He relaxed a bit and requested for ten pieces of cooked cocoyam with kontomire stew when all the other competitors had long retired. Like a savage, he crushed the large pieces between his jaws and every- body applauded. Presently he announced that he was not half-satisfied.
He ordered one big loaf of butter-bread and four large cups of a popular beverage and finished it all in record time, as spectators gaped at the spectacle. Everybody began wondering whether Kokotako was some kind of food-god.
He now relaxed completely and of course, everyone thought he was done with. Then he surprised all when he took hold of a tuber of yam and started peeling it, saying that it was for dessert. Soon the yam was cooked and it all disappeared down his long throat with garden egg stew.
Not long thereafter, a small boy was eating kokonte and groundnut soup nearby and Kokotako collected it from him amidst laughter: He devoured it gleefully while the boy cried for the loss of his food.
Kofi Kokotako won the competition and was honoured with a trophy and ¢300 in those days when the cedi was powerful. But it was not too long after the presentation ceremony when he confided in me that he was feeling dizzy. I suggested to him that he should order mashed kenkey to clear the dizziness and he retorted that I was a fool.
“Do you want to kill me?” he asked. “This is a killer advice. Mashed kenkey on top of all these?”
It was then that I realised that my good friend was not a food-god, after all. Before I was aware Kokotako had crashed to the floor. Collapsed. There was an uproar! The champion was dying! Someone said his hernia had come, and another said that the food was boozing him like akpeteshie.
Anyhow, he was carried to the hospital and the doctor gave him an emetic which made him throw-up. The doctor’s report stated that it was unbelievable a human being of the stature of Master Kokotako could consume such quantity.
He added that the dangerous boy probably vomited more than he ate, a miracle of a rare kind.
When he recuperated, the doctor interviewed him. Asked why he ate so much, he replied that he wanted to win the contest hands down and stomach out.
“Under normal circumstances, how many balls of kenkey can you eat at one sitting?”
“Only about six balls at a sitting.”
“Is it a family disease or is it peculiar to you only?”
“Sir, it is not a family disease. It is a gift from God.”
Yeah, Kofi Kokotako was and is a trencherman, with an unusual capacity for food. That is why when he wakes up from bed and has not taken his almighty break- fast he would frown and not respond to any greeting.
When he was in Form Three, his father called him at dawn and advised him. “My son,” he said, “I’ve realised that you’ve got talent in dealing with food. In fact, you are more than a bush-pig. So I’ll advise you to take your Agricultural Science studies very, very seriously. Don’t joke with it at all because it is the key to your future happiness, since you have a problem with your stomach.
“I want to be a cook instead,” Kokotako suggested.
“If you don’t produce food, how can you cook it?”
If Kokotako had been a parliamentarian in the Fourth Republic, he would have been dozing all throughout the daily sessions after having breakfast weighing several kilos. And I hope that none of our parliamentarians is following in the footsteps of my friend as far as matters of the stomach are concerned.
Parliament is a place of serious legislative business and there is no room for dozers. At the moment, parliamentarians are vetting ministerial nominees who, when approved of, will become ministers plenipotentiary of the state.
And I guess they have started doing a good job, and not dozing. Now, to vet somebody means that you should be able to know him inside out.
During the revolution, secretaries of state were not vetted because where was the parliament to vet them? They were simply appointed and didn’t even undergo medical exam before they took post.
But this time, it is becoming quite different and I urge, the Committee to employ the use of spirito-electronic X’rays which can bring out past moral activities of the nominees.
We want our ministers to be men of proven integrity and high moral standing. Some of them have one wife but three concubines. As for the girlfriends, no way; they don’t even know the names of some of them. They just come and go.
A minister of such reputation will obviously not be putting up his best because he would be pre- occupied with grabbing money to satisfy his numerous women.
Nominees should also be tested for alcoholism because any minister who imbibes more than the alcoholic equivalent of four bottles of beer a day will not be a responsible person as far as diligence and hardwork are concerned.
Their hands should also be examined to see if they’ve been tainted with stealing state money or misapplying it. They should also be examined for their food habits. A minister whose capacity is comparable to that of Kofi Kokotako and eats heavy kokonte at six o’clock in the morning is certain to doze all day long and therefore cannot handle ministerial affairs.
What about parliamentarians? They have already been vetted by their people, and what is now at hand borders on their salary. And I think they are aware that their job is sacrificial and not of luxury.
They must, however, be paid well so that they can afford coffee and toasted bread at breakfast to make them smart at the assembly. If not, a majority of them will continue eating heated left-over banku and when the Speaker of Parliament asks one why he has been dozing regularly, he’d reply:
“Mr Speaker, I ate yesterday’s banku early this morning and I guess the corn dough fermented a bit too much. Please, pay us quickly and then we can avoid fermentation and take oats, milk and jam before coming to the assembly.”
Yes the salary of parliamentarians. Anything between ¢180,000 and ¢250,000 will do for them. If they are fighting for more than that, then it means that they have no feeling for the country.
They must know that because of the rise in the salaries of civil servants, the country is broke. Also, some workers are earning ¢20,000 a month and so ¢250,000 for a parliamentarian who is doing sacrificial work should suffice.
I wish the parliamentarians a happy term and urge them to deliberate on issues very objectively and me to good conclusions to avoid the legislature being labelled as a one-party parliament.
This article was first published March 17, 1990
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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