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Smooth transfer — Part One

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My name is David Forson. I was fortunate to have been blessed with three elder sisters, who contributed to give me a smooth tertiary education.

My dad taught Economics in senior high schools all his working life, mostly in the Central Region, and my mother worked as a matron or catering officer, either in the same school with Dad or in senior high schools and polytechnics close by.

They gave their four children a good upbringing and education. Interestingly, all my three sisters studied catering at the polytechnic and, after a few years working in government establishments, established the Sankofa Restaurant and Catering, where they provided first class local dishes for patrons and delivered regular orders.

They were strategically located on the Circle-Achimota road, and many customers stopped for breakfast, lunch and supper all day.

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I was a ‘retirement baby’, born ‘by accident’ when my parents were close to retirement, so my sisters took over all issues relating to my education.

I sailed smoothly through university, earning a first class degree in development economics. I did my National Service with the Electricity Company of Ghana and was offered a job in the Projects Department, but my sisters advised me to acquire a postgraduate qualification.

So, with the ECG experience in mind, I did an 18-month Master’s Degree in Project Management at the Ghana Institute of Management and Public Administration, during which time I often went to help my colleagues at the Projects Department.

I was re-engaged at the ECG, but six months into the new job, my fatherly Head of Department, Mr Osekre, encouraged me to apply for the job of Northern Sector Project Manager at what was advertised as a ‘development agency’.

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It turned out to be the European Union, which gave me the responsibility of coordinating the development jobs being done by various contractors in the northern regions.

I was offered a comfortable flat in Tamale and given a new pick-up truck. I established good rapport with the contractors and sent monthly reports which informed them about the progress of work. I established an online portal which enabled them to easily monitor what was happening in all the projects.

This was greatly appreciated, and the Commissioner wrote to thank me and informed me that due to my work, the regular visits by expatriate staff to the north had become unnecessary.

And better still, the offices in Brussels and other countries heard about me. I was sent to several African countries to help them establish similar online facilities and was soon promoted to Consultant.

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I often came to Accra by air to spend a few days with family and friends, but I preferred to drive because it gave me the opportunity to bring a substantial amount of foodstuffs for use in the restaurant.

Of course, I was very well paid. Upon the advice of my elder sisters and my mentor Mr Osekre, I took two major decisions. I decided to find a stable lady partner to marry and start a family.

I also decided to invest in housing projects. Mr Osekre took me to some areas in Accra with several uncompleted buildings and suggested that I buy a couple of these houses, finish them and sell.

Under his guidance, I did extensive investigations to find the actual owners of the properties and completed negotiations with them. With all the resources I could muster, I put them into perfect condition, and buyers rushed to take them even when I was putting final touches to them.

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Having made a substantial profit, I registered a company, opened an office and employed two graduates to do the jobs of scouting for properties, conducting searches on property documents, and arranging meetings with the owners of the properties.

This became a very successful business to which I could retire anytime I wanted.

On the relationship side, I reconnected with Abena Gyasi, who was two years behind me at the university and was working in a recruitment agency. We had gone out a few times, and I had visited her family and enjoyed their company.

Apart from the fact that her parents were well known to mine, we got on well together, and although I did not say anything to her directly, all indications pointed to our heading towards marriage.

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She was tall and quite elegant with a commanding presence, and I felt proud about the glances that were cast in her direction when we went out.

We enjoyed each other’s company and spent long hours on the phone when I was out of town.

Everything went well until I went to her house one morning, and she introduced her friend Jennifer, who was her mate in senior high school. She was a big girl, quite fashionable and outgoing.

They talked excitedly about new fashion trends and called other mates to chat. I was quite glad that she had found someone to spend time with when I was not around. She smiled and even joked with me, but I felt a bit uneasy that she was not too excited about me. I thought this was normal, as she perhaps wanted Abena all to herself.

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A few weeks later, Abena started asking about my job, even though I had told her a lot about my work in the north. On Mr Osekre’s advice, I had only told my family about the investment business.

It was better to wait till it was on firm ground, he advised, and that would take at least a couple of years. Of course, I would tell her everything when we decided to get married.

She started asking some funny questions like ‘did you say you were doing agricultural extension work or development projects?’ Initially I gave her answers with some details, but when she persisted along the same lines, I said out of exasperation, ‘Abena, why do you keep asking the same questions even though I have answered you? Listen, there is nothing wrong with agricultural extension work, but that is not my line of work. But if that is what you wish to believe, then please go ahead, if it makes you happy. I just don’t understand this’.

Not long after, some friends said they had seen her with Jennifer eating lunch with some guys. I complained and said that I would prefer it if she went out with only me at that stage in our relationship. And if she needed to go out with others, I had to know.

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To my great surprise, she brushed it off, saying ‘but David, what is wrong with going out for lunch with friends? As for this one, I think you are doing too much?’

That was the beginning of the end.

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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