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Tribute to Jim Macauley, the ‘workerhaulic’ journalist

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MHB 975
When the day of toil is done,
When the race of life is run,
Father, grant Thy wearied one
Rest forevermore.
When the strife of sin is stilled,
When the foe within is killed,
Be thy gracious Word fulfilled;
Peace forevermore.
When the darkness melts away,
At the breaking of the day,
Bid us hail the cheering ray;
Light forevermore.
When the heart by sorrow tried,
Feel at length the throbs subside,
Bring us, where all tears are dried
Joy forevermore.
When the breath of life is flown,
When the grave must claim its own,
Lord of life, be ours Thy crown,
Life forevermore.
This Methodist hymn simply sums up the beginning and the end of mankind on this earth.
It is with the greatest heart and tribulation that I pay this special tribute to my brother, good friend and colleague of the inky fraternity, James Yao Macauley, a former Deputy Editor of the Ghanaian Times who makes his final journey to his ancestral home today, the 6th of March, 2021, which falls on Ghana’s Independence day anniversary celebration.
This day will forever go down in history as it will always ring a bell in the minds of his children, family members, friends and colleagues of the media.
Dubbed, a journey of no return, Jim Macoco, affectionately known by his close associates and friends, was called to eternity by his Maker on 24th December, 2020 being the birthday of his elder daughter, Celeste Eyram Macauley.
The funeral is being held this morning at the Transition Home at Haatso after which the body will be interred at the Achimota cemetery. Memorial Service will be held in his honour at the Pure Fire Ministries International near GIMPA, Kisiman junction at 10 am tomorrow and thence to his residence on the Passion Clinic road, Ogbojo.
I have decided to use this medium to eulogise this good friend and hard working colleague because of my closeness with him over the years. I have already shared few thoughts about my late friend in a series of tributes on my Facebook wall but I promised to pay special one at the appropriate time which is now.
The death of Jim came to me as a shock and a big blow because I hardly expected that so soon, although death is inevitable in one’s life. It came as a surprise because I spoke to him few days before he passed on.
He made an arrangement with me to attend a funeral ceremony of a former staff of the New Times Corporation (NTC) at a place called Israel, which is a suburb of Accra. He promised to join me from my residence at Mamprobi to that place.
The night to the funeral day, I called to confirm that I would be waiting for him for the trip. Indeed, he spoke to me on phone and nothing showed that he was unwell from the conversation we had.
The following morning which was Saturday, I had prepared for our journey when all of a sudden I had a call from him telling me that he could not make it because he was not feeling well. Since I had already prepared for the funeral, I advised him to rest whilst I attended the function.
To be frank, I was not myself at the event as I kept calling him to check how he was faring. His answers were so positive that I felt good that he was recovering fast. I made a follow up the following morning to which he assured me he was getting better. Hardly did I know that he was rather announcing his death to me in parables.
On 24th December, 2020, as I sat behind my dinner table around 8am having my breakfast, I received an unexpected call from the Editor of the Ghanaian Times newspaper, Mr. Dave Agbenu, who broke the sad news to me. I hesitated and cut short my breakfast.
I couldn’t believe it initially but after enquiring from Jim’s wife and also his elder brother, Humphrey, formerly of the Ghana Broadcasting Corporation (GBC), it became clear that my good friend was really dead. From that day until now, I have never been myself as I kept wondering the root cause of his death.
Indeed, as I keep saying, the good Lord knew best and he had answers as to why He had called him at this opportune time when his services would be mostly needed to groom young and upcoming journalists because of his deep knowledge and rich experience in the journalism profession.
Jim was my deputy when I was the editor of the Ghanaian Times newspaper and I knew how experienced he was especially in newspaper layouts, page planning and sub-editing. The two of us did not allow our retirement to affect our journalism profession because we believed that we had the potentials, skills and the strength to forge ahead.
No wonder, we had a lot of offers from some people within the society to assist in the publication of journals and magazines meant to shape the society. We took up the challenge and we came out with two sets of attractive and beautiful magazines which we duly registered with the National Media Commission (NMC).
The African Network Magazine and The Public Official Magazine of which I am the editor and he was the Director of Production in both cases. His handiworks are available for those who want to see them.
Jim, you mentored a lot of young journalists during your hey day in the field of writing and reporting in the arts and culture because of your vast interest in that field of journalism.
Many were those journalists from the Ghanaian Times and The Spectator newspapers who could testify that you assisted them to win most of the awards instituted by the Ghana Journalists Association (GJA) in the years past. You exhibited brilliance in your assigned duties and loved by all those who came into contact with your work.
Mr. Edward Abi-George, a former Chief Sub-Editor of the NTC under whom you acquired greater skills in your work and also your mentor, was proud of you because you put into practice all that he taught you.
My empathy goes to his wife Lily and children, Celeste Eyram, James Elorm and Charlotte Fafa Macauley, for this great loss. I pray that the good Lord will continue to console them during this difficult times.
My brother Jim, you came, you saw and you had conquered, paid your dues also to society and I pray that the good Lord would protect your soul and grant you eternal rest. Till we meet again, fare thee well. Adieu, adieu.
Let me end this tribute with the first, second and the fourth stanzas of the Methodist hymn 976.

Now the laborer’s task is o’er;
Now the battle day is past;
Now upon the further shore
Land the voyager at last
Refrain:
Father, in thy gracious keeping
Leave we now thy servant sleeping.
Amen.
There the tears of earth are dried,
There its hidden things are clear,
There the work of life is tried
By a just judge than here; [Refrain]

‘Earth to earth, and dust to dust,’
Calmly now the words we say;
Leaving him to sleep in trust,
Till the resurrection day; [Refrain]

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This sanitation issue!

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Some things do not change in this country.  The rains shall fall in May, and June and even July.  That is out of our control.  It is an act of God and he decides how often and the intensity.  Who are we to question God? 

However, there is something man-made that is gradually becoming something that is also not changing and it is worrying.  A week ago the President initiated a national clean up campaign to address the issue of sanitation in the country, especially in Accra. 

Citizens enthusiastically got involved and engaged in cleaning their environment and other places but afterwards, the issue that is becoming a permanent feature resisting change, reared its ugly head again. 

The rubbish and the silt that were dug out of the drains, were heaped on the shoulders of the drains and left there.  Any little rain will render the whole effort futile because the rubbish and silt will be washed right back into the drains. 

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This is what is not changing in the country and the various assemblies must ensure that this issue is dealt with and must become a thing of the past.

There is the need to engage the citizenry across board, in connection with mindset change, as far as sanitation is concerned.  At this juncture, I must acknowledge the thoughtful initiative of the current crop of Abenfo (i.e. students both present and past) of SUTESCO of Suhum, with support of the school administration for decorating the area under the overpass on the Accra Kumasi highway, near the school, with fascinating paintings.  This is an example worthy of emulation and makes me proud as one of the Abenfo. 

An example not worthy of emulation is an eyesore currently existing behind a cemetery along the Atta Mills link as you branch left, off the main Accra-Cape Coast road at Old barrier and head towards the beach through Aplaku, Bortianor, Oshiyie, Korobite through to Tuba and beyond. 

The drain along the walls of the cemetery also lying astride the road, is choked with silt and rubbish.  This has created a problem near the end of the cemetery wall just before you enter Bortianor. 

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Water has accumulated at that point, creating potholes and also gradually creating a channel across the road, creating a nightmare for motorists using that route.  This route is the main link between parts of Kasoa and the Accra – Cape Coast road and whenever it rains and the Atala stretch of the road is blocked, that is the route most motorists from Kasoa uses.

It is also the route used by tourists going to the beaches along the sea of the towns stretching from Bortianor to Kokrobite and so it does not speak well of us, as a nation at all.

A few days ago, I had to pass through Tema Station, the place where a major clean up exercise was conducted just fews days ago and it was very shocking to see the level of wanton littering that had taken place. 

One begins to wonder if this whole exercise initiated by the President was worth it.  People just do not care and are not willing to change their attitude towards sanitation. 

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We cannot continue like this and to win this battle against insanitary conditions in our environment, the NCCE must be resourced to embark on a serious educational drive.  The MMDCEs must also be held accountable for sanitation lapses in their administrative areas, by making sanitation part of their KPIs among other innovative policies.  This is one of the surest ways to overcome this sanitation challenge confronting us. God bless.

By Laud Kissi-Mensah

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Features

Disqualified — Part 1

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THE discussion lasted only ten minutes. Mr Philip Sampson, Eunice’s father, had asked to see him, and he was led to the sitting room for the first time. Mr Sampson indicated that he should sit down.

‘Yes, Kakraba. I know that you have been, er, friends with Eunice for some months now, and naturally, as her father, I thought it would be important to meet you, and to reach an understanding with you on, er, some basic issues. So, I hear you are a graduate in building technology. Now, tell me about what you do’.

‘Okay. I worked with the Electricity Company for two years after National Service. During that time I interacted with some lawyers and land surveyors on our project sites, so I suggested to some of them that we take some dilapidated buildings in some parts of Accra, rehabilitate them and find new owners. Soon after starting that I got a job as Project Manager with a group of development agencies who are executing projects in the Northern Region, so I have been balancing the two positions’.

‘I see. That sounds like a bold step. So is it going well, financially?’

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‘Well, sir, I absolutely enjoy what I’m doing now. Financially, I would only say that I am a work in progress. A lot of what I’m doing now involves some risk taking, as it involves trust issues with land and property owners.

I am partnering with prominent lawyers and land surveyors, so I am not taking any serious risks. So currently I am doing okay financially, but it will take me some time before I reach the level where I can say I am comfortable financially.’

‘Okay. Now tell me about your parents’.

‘My father was an Agricultural Extension Officer, so we spent some time at several locations with him. He is now enjoying his retirement. And my mother is a retired nurse. I have three elder sisters, all married’.

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‘So you live with your parents?’

‘Yes and no. My dad built his home on one acre at Pokuase, so he gave me one plot, and I have done a three-bedroom house, where I live’.

‘Okay, fine. Thanks for the answers. You see, in addition to my position socially, I spent many years in the diplomatic service, so I’m sure you will understand that I need to ensure that my kids, especially my daughters, maintain suitable relationships. For now I think it is fine that you and Eunice are friends. I’m sure you understand what I mean’.

‘Yes sir. I understand perfectly well.’

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‘Great, okay, that would be all.’

Kakraba stood up, bowed and said thank you to Mr Sampson, and walked to the garden where his girlfriend Eunice, her mother Mrs Elaine Sampson and her two elder sisters, Yvonne and Emma, were seated, busily discussing some dresses being offered for sale online.

‘So,’ Mrs Elaine asked him, ‘you and Daddy had a good discussion?’

‘Yes, Ma. We certainly did. I really appreciate Dad for the discussion. It was really good.’

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‘Great. Although he has met you here on quite a number of occasions, I think it is good that you have met for a chat.’

‘Yes indeed, Ma, and I really appreciate it. So Eunice, I will be on my way. I will call.’

Eunice led him to his car, and after driving off he exhaled and shook his head. Although he had long concluded that Eunice’s family were so snobbish that a future relationship with her would be problematic, this discussion, or was it interrogation, had virtually cancelled any likelihood.

Mr Sampson just told him, in no uncertain terms, that the Sampson family was so prominent and socially connected that a union between his daughter and him was undesirable.

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He had a good relationship with Eunice. They shared some beautiful moments together, and often went out to entertainment joints, often with her three friends Marian, Patricia and Amanda. But Kakraba was often uncomfortable with their preferences.

Eunice regularly spoke about her family’s experiences during her father’s postings in Europe and Asia, and her three friends were always discussing the latest fashion trends, always noting the importance of placing themselves among the best-dressed ladies in town.

Eunice, her mother and siblings had indicated in several ways that he did not quite fit into their social standing. They had only said a mild ‘thank you’ when he brought them a goat or sheep and a generous amount of foodstuffs from the north every month.

But Kakraba did not really take it to heart, because they were quite inexpensive up north. Moreover, he always went to the food market and arranged with the truck drivers for a big package which was picked up by his buddy Paa John and delivered to his family and a few others, including the Sampsons.

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By Ekow de Heer

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