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The Prophet part 9
Antubam followed her. She indicated for him to sit down. She was about to call Mary when she emerged from the hall, followed by Suzzie.
“It’s good you are both here,” she said. “There’s something I need to tell all three of you. Mr Antubam, I will not waste time on your so-called interest in me, because you and I are two very different people with absolutely nothing in common. The main point I want to make now is that your so-called church is nothing but a fraud with which you are deceiving people who may be ignorant today, but are still precious in God’s sight.
Apart from deceiving them and enriching yourself, you are using God’s name to commit fraud. Today you may be enjoying money, food, alcohol and women, but you will certainly pay a high price for it, unless of course you are willing to repent now. My concern is for my two sisters.
I am demanding that they cut all links with you, now. No visits to your home or church, and no telephone calls. I have told them to give you back every penny you have given them. I am prepared to find money to pay whatever they owe you. That is all I have to say.”
Antubam rose, furious, and pointed his finger at her.
“Let me warn you, Betty. Yes, I am interested in you, and I am ready to take care of all your needs, even to rent a house and buy a car for you. But I will not allow you to insult me. You better withdraw those words you have used against me now, or I will deal with you very soon.”
“Don’t make me laugh, Antubam. You? Deal with me? Why don’t you deal with me now? You have to wait till you go to the shrine and beg the fetish priest to deal with me? See how miserable you are? I dare you! Leave my house now, and go to that miserable fetish priest and get him to rain down all his powers on me!”
“You will see!” Antubam declared as he moved towards his car. He hesitated for a moment to see if Mary and Suzzie would walk him to the car, but noticing that they were firmly glued to their seats he got in the car and drove home.
He got out of the car and went straight to the drinks cupboard, poured himself a full glass of whisky and gulped down half of it. He sat down and called his batman, Kofi Takyi.
“Which two women did you call today?”
“Aggie, one of the new members is in. She is having supper in the guest room. Priscilla will be coming around 9pm.”
“Good work, Kofi. Now, get me my food.” After wolfing down the fufu and light soup, he gulped down the other half of the whisky and stretched out on the sofa and began a smooth, rhythmic snore. Priscilla entered, walked over and, shaking her head, strolled to the bedroom.
Betty came from the shower to find the two friends still glued to their seats.
“Well? Aren’t you two going to say anything?”
“I have something to say,” Mary said. “I don’t understand you, Betty. You want us to cut all links with Antubam, and to refund all the money he has given us. Now, when we do that, do we come back here tomorrow, sit and stare at the sky and hope and pray that our holy sister (Betty) will bring us manna to eat?”
“Such a stupid statement must not come from you, Mary. What happened to your WASSCE qualifications and your intelligence? Here’s some free advice. Get on the internet. Submit applications for university admission. I am prepared to pay for the two of you. And from tomorrow, start studying the Bible seriously, with the intention of doing what it says. I assure you, there are solutions in the Bible for every problem you face today, and will face tomorrow. All you need, Mary, is to use your God-given intelligence. How could you stoop so low as to take money from a common thief and drunkard like Antubam?”
Suzzie rose quietly and held Betty’s hand. “Do you know, Betty? Until a few minutes ago I did not know that you cared so much about me that you consider me your sister. I promise you. We will do as you say. Mary, we will go and collect the rent money, add it to all the money we have taken, and pay it into the account. From tomorrow, Betty, Mary and I will follow you wherever you go’. With tears streaming down her cheeks she walked away.”
Antubam got up with a start. He checked the time on his phone. It was midnight. He sat up, and was moving towards the bedroom when he heard the voices.
“Is anything the matter?” he said. “You have never come here at this time. I thought you only come at dawn.”
“We are always here. We only contact you when we have to. We have to warn you. That girl is trouble. If you don’t leave her alone there will be problems.”
“I don’t understand. I can’t leave her alone. I must sleep with her as many times as possible, conquer her. Why can’t you get her for me?”
“She is firmly buried in the book. You are sleeping with two women every night, and there are many more available in the church. Leave that girl alone?”
“Do you fear her? What book is that? I don’t know why…..” before he could finish the sentence several flashes of pain like a horsewhip on fire cut across his back, and he yelled, bringing Priscilla and Aggie from their rooms.
“What is it, Antubam?” Priscilla asked.
“Er…er. I saw a revelation about a church member who is in some trouble. I need to pray for her. Please go back to the rooms. I will join you soon.” Aggie went to the room, but Priscilla lingered.
“Antubam, why don’t you tell me what the problem is so that I can help you? It appears you have just received some spiritual lashes. Are you being punished for something you have done?”
“Perhaps your husband is punishing me for sleeping with you.”
“Do you dare insult me, Antubam. You will certainly regret speaking to me like this?”
“You have a loud mouth, but your only abilities in life, Priscilla, are sex and extorting money. I will come and sleep with you shortly, and give you money in the morning. Now leave!” She slipped out quietly, and the voices resumed.
“Next time you talk like that you will receive a much bigger punishment. We are only trying to protect you. You are planning to go to the shrine tomorrow morning to invoke curses on the girl. Be careful. Our master may grant your wish if you press him, but you may regret it.”
“I am sorry if I sound ungrateful, but I just can’t resist that girl. She is so beautiful and sexy. Moreover she has insulted me, and I must punish her.”
“Remember we warned you. You are already in danger. One of your competitors is asking questions about you, and thinking about the possibility of dealing with you. Jehoshaphat Agyiri. Everyone calls him Gidigidi.”
“I have heard of him. But what have I done?”
“He belongs to us. We work for him. He wants to check if you will threaten him. He can’t do you any harm as long as you use the stick. But your main problem will come from the girl.”
“Thank you for your help. As for the girl, please talk to Nana Broni for me. I am ready to pay anything for the pleasure of catching that girl in my bed and disciplining her.”
“Antubam,” Priscilla started, “are you going to apologise for the way you spoke to me? And are you going to apologise for bringing another woman here even though I am here with you?”
“Are you going to collect money from me tomorrow morning, Priscilla?”
“Get into bed, you idiot. I wonder why those women in the church cannot see you for the cheap fraudster you really are.”
Antubam took off at dawn, and arrived at the shrine before five.
“You are welcome, Antubam. We know, yet we still ask, as the saying goes. What brings you here?”
“You already know, Okomfo. I must have the girl at all costs. I am prepared to pay anything.”
“I have already consulted Nana Ama Kokoben. I have prepared a fire for her. She will be here any minute, with her mirrors. What you are asking is beyond me, but she is willing to help you. Ah, here she is.”
The small woman sat on a stool next to Okomfo, and stared into Antubam’s eyes for several minutes.
“I will try to help you, but the effort will come from you.” They moved over to the fire, and she placed the two mirrors over the fire.”
“Look! You will see the girl. Take this needle. When she appears in the mirror, pierce her eyes with the needle. By the time you get back to Tafo she will be at your house. From today, she will follow you just as a dog follows its master.”
By Ekow de Heer
I have often been saddened by the condition of Sikaman musicians. Of course, some are not musicians. They are jokers who think anybody who can sing a hymn is a musician. And why wouldn’t they think so when people think that every man wearing a rasta hair is a reggae musician?
Well, these days, almost everybody is dreaming of becoming a musician, even some ministers and parliamentarians. And it is never too late for them to begin learning the solfas and composing songs like “If You Do Good You Do For Yourself,” after all, life begins at 60 these days. If you die three years later, that’s your luck.
For the jobless, becoming a musical star is an everyday dream. They think when you are a music maker, you automatically break alliance with poverty. They are often mistaken.
I know people who claim they are musicians but are always fasting not because they are devout moslems or are on a hunger strike, but because even one square meal a day is a perpetual wahala. And the only drink they can afford is the poor man’s holy whisky which has a thousand names including ‘Nyame Bekyere’.
Even most of the popular musicians we see in town claiming they are foreign-based stars are more of hustlers than musicians. When they tell you they are going on tour abroad, it is a careful way of saying they are going overseas to scrub the whiteman’s toilet or pick tomato or apples to save their neck from musical poverty.
When they are back to Sikaman, they appear quite flamboyant with chains hanging all over them. They change the few dollars they have scraped, spread it around and promptly get broke. Then they can organise another ‘tour’. In between tours, they struggle to release an album and that levels them up a bit on the financial balance.
It all points to the fact that the life of the average musician isn’t quite organised. He has no calendar, no programme and no concentration on the job. He has to wash plates, become a waiter, janitor and toilet scrubber while finding time to make music. No musician succeeds in life that way.
One musician I’ll always respect, who thinks deeper than the ordinary Sikaman musicians is Carlos Sakyi. He is not like the Kokoase guitar musicians who see the world just in terms of bitters, a willing girlfriend, constant supply of kokonte and jot.
Carlos, often loved for his percussive overtones in gospel music, and once a gospel-rock star, has studied the life of Sikaman musicians and has evolved a blue-print for a great improvement in their lives work, finances and comfort.
In short, he has simulated a Motown-style environment for musicians and his formula is working with accuracy with the five musicians he has started with. The blue-print is what has brought MEGASTAR into being. It was launched on September 15, 1995 at the National Theatre.
When it got launched, many probably thought Carlos was “too know or was dreaming more than he should and won’t think about himself. Anyhow, the MEGASTAR is now an institution musicians can look up to, a big phenomenon with lots of promise for struggling musicians.
Music business in the developed world is not the way we regard it cheaply here. A musician is never distracted by how his finances go; his contracts are entered, his engagements made, his interviews arranged, his personal security guaranteed.
Music is his business and that is where his mind is and his attention focuses. Other aspects of his life are programmed for him by his managers. They hire who has to light his cigarettes, massage him, drive his car and the one who will say “Good Luck” when he sneezes.
A bodyguard whose face is exactly like that of the devil is hired to scare off muggers, psychopaths and criminals in general. Sometimes his girls are organised for him.
So the only thing the musician does apart from sleeping and snoring is to concentrate on making music, and true to it, no one can succeed in any venture when he is distracted.
This is how the Michael Jacksons, Lionel Richies, Dolly Patons and Whitney Houstons have made it with dollars packed and over-flowing. They aren’t any better than Sikaman musicians. The only difference is that they know how to organise their lives.
I managed to corner Carlos Sakyi and asked him to tell me how MEGASTAR was doing. He is the Managing Director of Megastar Limited, a music company that has a board of directors and a chairman. Carlos Sakyi shares the proprietorship with a partner. Carlos himself was one great musician who played for a band that beat Eddy Grant on the charts.
“Megastar is in fact a concept born out of the idea that the future security of the Ghanaian musician which has always been in jeopardy can now be guaranteed. Artistes spend too much of their time doing things on their own, chasing money and not concentrating on music. So their full potential is never realised. Some are in fact producing at quarter-rate. That is why they aren’t making much headway,” he told me.
“Megastar is now giving them the chance of the lives. We handle the interviews of Megastar artiste, their press releases, costume, engagements and everything they hitherto used to do themselves. We get them exposed on M-Net and we have contacted BB to get on their programmes. We handle their finances pay them salaries and bonuses, so they only have to concentrate on music
“Most importantly,” he continued, “we do not make all the decisions. Management always meet with the musicians to take the decisions that affect them.”
But who are the Megastar musicians? One is the great Amakye Dede, a star from birth delivered onto the earth with music on his lips; he is the man who feeds hungry ears with musical salad and harmonic sausages. He is the recipient of many national awards.
Next is Naana Frimpong, a latter-day Carlos-groomed songbird with the voice of an angel. She sings to kill. Her beauty has charmed her audience and they stare and stare at her.
The sensational and fantalising Tagoe Sisters are the next. The twin music machine is one that has produced the cream, arguably the very best, of gospel music all these years. I hear they are inseparable; not even their better-halves can keep them apart. Are they Siamese? They dance, and when on stage, they move the crowd.
Then comes Reverend Yawson who is a known songwriter. He is imbued with the Holy Spirit, speaks in tongues and of course sings in tongues. He is God’s representative on the group.
What about my good friend and super-heavyweight, Jewel Ackah? He is a star figure. His appearance is awe-inspiring, his voice golden. A great delight to be-hold when at his best in stage-craftsmanship, he has beaten his contemporaries to it both on land and on sea.
They are the pioneers of the Motown idea. They are all releasing new albums this year. Let’s see how it all goes.
In recent years, the term “female rage” has gained significant traction, symbolising a collective shift in how women’s emotions are perceived and addressed.
This phenomenon is not merely a fleeting trend but a profound movement rooted in centuries of systemic injustices, personal betrayals, and societal expectations.
As women increasingly reclaim their anger, it is imperative to understand the multifaceted nature of female rage, its causes, and its implications for individuals and society at large.
The historical context of female anger
Historically, women’s emotions have been subject to dismissal, ridicule, and pathologisation. The term “hysteria,” originating from the Greek word for uterus, was used to describe women’s emotional states as irrational and uncontrollable.
This legacy of silencing and shaming has contributed to a culture where women’s anger is often suppressed or stigmatised.
However, with the rise of feminist movements, women are challenging these narratives, asserting their right to express anger and demand change.
The anatomy of female rage
Female rage is not a monolith; it is a complex and multifaceted emotion driven by various factors, including:
1. Societal expectations: The pressure to conform to traditional roles of passivity, politeness, and emotional labour.
2. Gender inequality and pay gaps: Frustration stemming from systemic discrimination in the workplace and beyond.
3. Sexual harassment and abuse: Trauma and anger resulting from pervasive violence and objectification.
4. Emotional labour and burnout: The unsustainable burden of managing emotions and responsibilities in personal and professional spheres.
5. Hormonal fluctuations: The impact of hormonal changes on emotional states, often overlooked or dismissed.
The power of anger: Reclaiming female rage
Far from being a destructive force, female rage can be a catalyst for change. When acknowledged and channelled constructively, anger can drive advocacy, policy reform, and resistance against inequality.
The #MeToo movement, women’s marches, and increased representation in politics are testaments to the power of collective female anger.
Addressing the Stigma: Towards a more inclusive dialogue
To fully harness the potential of female rage, society must address the stigma surrounding women’s anger. This involves:
1. Validation and recognition: Acknowledging women’s emotions as legitimate and worthy of attention.
2. Creating safe spaces: Providing platforms for women to express anger without fear of backlash.
3. Education and awareness: Challenging stereotypes and promoting understanding of women’s experiences.
4. Support systems: Offering resources and support for women dealing with trauma and systemic injustices.
Conclusion
The age of female rage is a moment of profound transformation, where women’s anger is no longer silenced but celebrated as a force for justice.
By understanding the roots of female rage and addressing the societal structures that fuel it, we can move towards a more equitable and compassionate world.
The journey is complex, but the destination-a society where women’s emotions are respected and their voices are heard is worth the struggle.
References:
[1] Chemudupati, P. (2022). _The Rage of Women: A Historical Perspective_.
[2] Traister, R. (2018). _Good and Mad:
By Robert Ekow Grimond-Thompson
