Features
Sikaman Cops and mob justice
When your driving license expires and a policeman “cranks” you, there are two options. You can decide to scratch the policeman’s back and he will in turn scratch your back. It is a brotherly agreement, and you can go on driving until you are caught by another policeman.
The back-scratching solution to traffic offences is known in official gasettes as corruption. The act itself is known as bribery.
The second option is that you’ll be processed for court, for you to go and tell the judge why you think you are above the law. Normally, the judges don’t mind who you are or think you are. They’ll bunch you up with taxi drivers who are color-blind and cannot distinguished between red-light and green-light.
Others in your company will be articulated truck drivers who are specialists in parking in the middle of the road to cause accidents. At least, you’ll find one lady driver among the 30 offenders in court, and she’ll be shivering uncontrollably. She can’t bear the sight of the judge. A serial traffic offender will be in the group. In his back-pocket is cash to pay the fine.
In some courts, traffic offenders are so many that the judge can be tempted to give them the same fine so as not to burden the court.
NUISANCE
If you are in court for a traffic offence, it is best if you plead guilty, pay a fine and go back to continue breaking the law. Recalcitrance is a way of life on the roads, and some people regard the court fines as a mere nuisance and not something that can reform them.
Now, going back to back-scratching, the Sikaman policemen is probably one of the most miserable you can find in the world. A whole policeman with a wife and four kids has a salary that can only motivate him to take bribe.
Some policemen can’t even afford a cup of coffee before they go to direct traffic to control the early morning rush. At about 9:30 a.m. he must find direction to the nearest kokonte bar to face the wall, otherwise he’ll collapse in the middle of the road. If he doesn’t drink soup, it will not be well with him. Sometimes, people give cash to policemen not because they want to bribe them, but because they feel pity for them. I used to have a Chief Inspector friend who is now retired. He once showed me his pay slip and I had to admit that such a man can only survive by magic or through corruption.
It is the belief that every policeman who is well-paid will not take bribe. If he does, then he is doing so not because he is in need, but because he is either a greedy cop or a criminal from birth.
IMAGE
So corruption within the police service must be looked at vis-a-vis remuneration for all ranks. At least, if a sergeant gets GH¢3.5m a month, he won’t take GH¢2,000 from a driver to denigrate the image of the service.
As a result of the low level of remuneration, many funny things happen and this affects police-public relations. For example, there is the infamous “complainant turns accused” syndrome. It all has to do with the highest bidder becoming the complainant, no matter the nature of the case.
A friend had a case with some Spanish nationals who threatened to kill him when a business deal went awry. He reported to the police and they locked up the Spanish guys.
The next morning I went to the police station and I was shocked. The Spanish guys had been released and in their place was my friend, cooling off.
When people start losing confidence in the police and the law, then whenever they seek justice, they will take the law into their own hands. That is why mob justice is normally prevalent where the police are either incapable or are too corrupt to deal with crime.
So when a criminal is caught, he is either lynched or beaten senseless. Police stations are invaded or burnt down, policemen are attacked and harmed and there is a general public outcry against police methods, brutality, unfairness and even procedures of granting bail.
It is good that policemen are being transferred so that they do not become too familiar with people in their areas of operation.
Generally, however, the police have conducted themselves well, pushing criminals right to the wall and scoring good points on the roads, easing traffic. The robotic police man readily comes to mind.
He used breakdancing to direct traffic and almost turned his job into a crowd-pulling venture in the capital. Motorists even slowed down or stopped to catch a glimpse of the action.
However, in the field of detection, I think there is more. I remember when I was a kid in the north, we were all so fond of my father’s driver, but we didn’t know he was a smuggler turned fugitive.
DETECTIVE
One vacation, he drove us to our hometown and said he wanted to see a relation in Ho. That was the last time we saw him. We did not know that a young detective had been searching for him ever since he escaped arrest three years back.
My father later learnt that the man was drinking beer with a girlfriend in a bar when the detective pounced on him like a cheetah. He was too surprised and wondered how for three years, a detective could be on his trail.
I was about 11 years at the time, and although I felt sorry for the driver, I also doffed my hat to the detective-corporal. He knew his job. I hope we have more of such guys today in the service.
This article was first published
on Saturday, July 16, 2005
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.
