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Borla Man — Part Three

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Dinah came to our home early the following morning, as Martin was having breakfast. He congratulated her for qualifying as a doctor, and chatted briefly with her about her new posting and arrangements for starting work.

Then he left for work, hoping to see her ‘later’. For the next three hours I had a heart to heart chat with her, and she got a feel of the reality I was facing.

“Sarah, I’m concerned about the situation in your home. Martin seems to have decided that he doesn’t need a wife after all, that he is better off enjoying life with his beer colleagues and girls. I don’t think even his parents can influence him. But let’s continue to pray, and act with wisdom, especially in how you talk and how you react to provocation. Although the situation seems bad, I’m glad to notice that it has not affected you mentally.

Now that you have virtually secured admission to the university, you must stay focused on getting the degree. You have to create a life for yourself. Let’s start planning.”

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Paul was waiting at Royalty restaurant when we got there. We had a great time. Paul asked Dinah quite a lot of questions about her experiences with the medical course, and she was happy to share them.

I had the greatest surprise when I found out that he wasn’t, as I thought, an ordinary clerk and driver who distributed bills and collected payments for his employers, but the owner of the company. And his company didn’t just collect rubbish and dump them, but was also involved in recycling.

And beyond that, he was helping industrial establishments to deal with chemical waste. After lunch, he first dropped me at home, and took Dinah to my parents’ place.

The following morning, Martin announced, with a sour face, that his mother would arrive in the evening, and would spend a few days. I wasn’t expecting much to change, but I got ready to do some shopping and cook some meal.

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Paul asked me what I was doing the rest of the day, and I told her that my main reason for coming to Takoradi is to spend some time with you.

So he suggested that I go with him to the office, so I did. First of all, his office is quite impressive. I spent a couple of hours on the Internet whilst he worked, then we went to the Sports Club.

Nice place. I met two doctors who want to recruit me to work for their company, which owns twenty clinics around Ghana. We left the club at about seven-thirty, bought some chips and grilled chicken, and went to his place to eat. Sarah, Paul is one very humble but really impressive guy.

He’s picking me up for lunch at twelve-thirty.

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“Ei Sarah, you seem to be making some headway.”

“You must be joking. He told me something very interesting, which I will discuss fully with you tomorrow.”

“And what could that possibly be?”

“We will discuss it tomorrow. But clean your ears out. It is very interesting.”

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After a couple of days, Martin had finished breakfast and was about to leave, when his mother motioned to him to wait.

“When will you come back this evening? And in what state will you be? What’s happening to you, Martin? Where do you go after work every evening?”

“Mama,” he said as he moved to the door, “I’m sorry I have to leave. Moreover, I’m not a boy anymore. I’m quite capable of managing my affairs.” But his mother blocked the door.

“If you are capable of managing your own affairs, why did you call to make all those complaints about Sarah? Since I’ve been here, I’ve noticed that the place is always clean, this stupid lifestyle, or we will force you to change.”

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“What will you do, Mama, beat me up?”

His Mama surprised him with a big, nasty slap, nearly flooring him. Very angry, he picked his briefcase and went out.

He came home very late as usual, ate and dropped off to sleep. The following morning he confronted me as I was preparing his breakfast.

“Sarah, what nonsense have you been telling my mother? If you can’t keep your mouth shut, then it’s best you go to your parents. After all, even though our parents gave their blessing to our coming together, we are not officially married. So you are free to leave. I will live my life the way I want.”

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He paused when his mother appeared.

“Martin, Sarah hasn’t said one word about you since I’ve been here. But you, Martin, you called and made all kinds of allegations against her. And since I’ve been here, I’ve found out the truth. And you have the nerve to ask her to go away? Now I understand why her father wouldn’t give you his full blessing. Don’t worry. I’m leaving this morning. Immediately I get home, your father and I will go to her parents and apologise to them.”

Nice place. I met two doctors who want to recruit me to work for their company, which owns twenty clinics around Ghana. We left the club at about seven-thirty, bought some chips and grilled chicken, and went to his place to eat. Sarah, Paul is one very humble but really impressive guy.

Surprisingly, Martin was not happy that his mother was coming to spend some days with us. Dinah called as I was about to leave.

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“Dinah, I was just leaving home to do some shopping. Martin’s mother is coming here this evening, and will be spending a few days, so I want to do some cooking. What’s up?”

“Well, I had a great evening yesterday. On the way to the hotel, then I will personally come back and take her home.”

“Martin, I came here from Koforidua three days ago, not because I have nothing to do at home, but because your father and I thought we should find out how you and Sarah are doing. Yet since I’ve been here, you’ve not sat down with me for even fifteen minutes.”

“Mama, I’m getting late for work. Can’t this wait till when I get back? There’s always good food available. She washes your clothes and even irons them. And what’s your response? You’ve turned yourself into a ghost, leaving home first thing in the morning and coming home late, every day. All those tales you told us about Sarah, they have turned out to be lies. Listen, you either change. I hope you understand the implications of the behaviour you are putting up. You are not only rejecting Sarah, you are rejecting your parents. You can go away. Sarah will take me to the Accra station.”

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To my great surprise, he left.


By EKow de Heer

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The eye is indeed the lamp of the body

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There is a scripture that is found in Matthew 6:22 which says that the lamp of the body is the eye and therefore the eye must see well to enable the body to get to its destination.  

What most people do not know is that behind the scenes, there is a strong interaction between the eyes and the brain before a picture becomes clear.  The state of mind therefore is crucial to the eye seeing clearly to enable the body to process accurately the information the eyes are feeding it for proper identification of what the eyes see. 

This is similar to how a person behaves i.e. what informs the decisions that forms in the mind that results in the actions that a person performs.  The actions of a person does not therefore just happen but is as a result of things that went on in the mind, which in most cases resulted from information passed on to it by the eyes either consciously or unconsciously.

There are so many issues that affect our society which makes one wonder, whether the people who displayed such acts were created by someone or something other than God. 

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How can a person see a beach created by God with beautiful beaches and fresh air blowing all around, decides to defecate at such places, and therefore desecrate the environment?  lt is simply mind boggling? 

When other people in other countries who dwell on the coast are using their beaches for tourist attraction purposes as a means of livelihood and also to promote environmental health, some people living around our beaches, have turned them into rubbish dumping sites and toilets. 

It is a very sad situation and the earlier we did something about it the better.  It is a national emergency that must engage the attention, first of the government and then the citizenry, where religious bodies and NGOs must play a critical role.

The things we focus on in this country, needs to be addressed.  Our minds which processes the info the eyes send to the brain, must be disciplined.  There are certain behaviours that a disciplined mind can ignore even when the eye has provided info to the brain.  One of the things a disciplined mind does, is the avoidance of a second look, which is critical for every person who wants to avoid adultery or fornication. 

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Once a person is not blind, he will see things.  The boobs, the ‘shankus’, the coca cola shapes, the light complexioned, the dark complexioned etc. the eyes will definitely see and report same to the brain.  What the brain or the mind decides to do or instructs the eye to do is the issue. 

It can decide to instruct the eye to take a second look and let the mind drool over it or say ignore it and that will be the end.

If the mind becomes trained to focus on environmental issues like clean environment, the eyes will automatically be reporting on insanitary conditions to the brain as and when it sees them.  The mind will pay attention to such data and begin to process them and to identify solutions to deal with the reported insanitary conditions. 

There is the need to encourage citizens to train the mind to focus on the right thing so that in tandem with the eyes, focus will be maintained.  When the mind is so trained, it communicates with the eye to also focus on hood things that helps in both are spiritual life and our secular lives, for indeed the eyes are the lamp of the body.  God bless.

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 Arming the Sikaman journalists to the teeth

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THE relationship between New Times Corporation (NTC) and African Concrete Productions (ACP) is based entirely on matters of the stomach. Each depends on the other in a dietary symbiosis, reinforced by the close proximity of each other

At lunchtime, you’d see a particular set of Times workers marching regimentally to ACP to face the wall. You’d think they are soldiers. It has long been declared that the company manufactures the best kokonte in the Greater Accra Region. ACP is, therefore, a culinary haven for those NTC kokonte fans, both male and female.

As the NTC kokonte warriors cross the border to ACP, you’d see some ACP banku fanatics dancing joyously to NTC. They are lucky folks because they do not have to obtain visa to enter into ‘Times’ to attack the balls of banku with precision and accuracy. They also claim that the lightsoup at ‘Times’ is arguably the best in West Africa.

So the relationship between the two entities was quite cordial and based practically on stomach palaver, until ACP workers staged an industrial revolution, whereupon the managing director, accountant and estate manager were allegedly stripped naked and locked up in a room. An insurgency had began in earnest.

An ACP worker came to ‘Times’, this time not to eat banku and okro. He had come to inform newsmen that juicy stuff awaited them at ACP. It could make a front page lead story.

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A camerawoman and a female reporter were accordingly dispatched to go and bring back news, juicy news as juicy as kokonte and groundnut soup.

Sikaman Palava
Sikaman Palava

I was driving to work when I espied the familiar camerawoman clicking away outside the ACP premises. I didn’t see any ‘Times’ reporter but angry workers who were on the verge of getting violent. I slowed down and the driver behind blew his horn at me like a lunatic. I drove on.

Later, I heard the reporter and camerawoman were harassed and brutalised. The report came,. “The camerawoman, Mrs Salome Adonu-Agbottah and reporter Mrs Doreen Allotey, in an attempt to retrieve the camera which the workers had seized from them were severely beaten. They were manhandled and almost pushed into a big gutter opposite the company’s premises.

BRUISES

“….The camerawoman had bruises on her body, her hand bag was destroyed and the money in it stolen. Mrs Allotey’s watch was also snatched and her feet stamped on.”

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Luckily, it was not her nose that was trampled upon. She has a beautiful nose.

The bad news was received with extreme sorrow. If the victims had been men, it would not have seemed too bad. But to brutalise women is just unacceptable. The New Times Corporation has not stopped mourning the incident which has been condemned in many circles.

Some people keep asking me why Times sent females to cover a potentially violent demonstration. I tell them they might as well ask why CNN’s amazon, Christina Amanpour, is assigned to cover the carnage in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Rwanda. She is always on the frontline in jeans and jacket.

Journalism is a potentially hazardous profession, and once you accept to study and practise the trade, you might as well bone up to face any assignment as long as your superiors feel you are capable of handling it or you have demonstrated the capacity to handle it. Both males and females can be assigned anywhere, anytime just like policemen and women are assigned.

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The only difference between cops and pressmen is that the latter are armed only with a pen and the former with a gun. The question is should newsmen also arm themselves so that in any event of an assault they would not be found wanting in self-defence? They can’t adequately defend themselves with a pen and a jotter. A pen cannot even disfigure an opponent’s upper lip.

Photo-journalists have particularly suffered violence. Spectator ace-cameraman Vincent Dzatse was severely assaulted by AMA men when he attempted to take pictures of their indiscretions.

Sports cameraman, P. K. Arthur has been beaten more than once at the sports stadium when riots errupted and he wanted to capture it on his lenses.

Some sports journalists have been banned from entering the Accra Sports Stadium by supporters because in their comments, they didn’t write “sense”. Some supporters once nearly lynched Christian Abbew, Spectator Sports Editor, near a courtroom. He was stoned like the biblical Stephen. He had gone to defend a contempt charge.

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I think it is time journalists met and discussed how best to defend themselves in any event of an attack by individuals or mobs. In the pursuance of their duty, they must be free from harassment and assault.

Some journalists go to work and return home with a black-eye or a double fore-head. It is just not right. Something has to be done about it. I think journalists should be armed. But first we must be trained in the use of firearms so that our warning shot do not hit below the belt. What about training in Kung Fu?

This article was first published on Saturday, October 17, 1998.

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