Connect with us

Features

Politics, money and big English

Published

on

A university student casting her vote

I do not know how campus politics is like these days. When we were at Legon, it was quite turbulent. From the JCR to NUGS elections, it was often a do-or-die matter. Candidates took the elections so seriously that they would in the meantime pack their books somewhere, start chewing gorro and go hunting for loans to finance their campaign. Ghanaman student doesn’t joke with his post!

Sikaman Palava
Sikaman Palava

When a candidate manages to grab a loan using his sound system, faded jeans, lunch coupons and ancient shaving-stick as collateral, he uses the loan wisely. At least half the money instantly to his girlfriend at Volta Hall. Fact is that the girlfriend is his political adviser during elections and a comforter when he loses.

Normally, girlfriends give their boyfriends rage and urge them on, knowing they are going to lose anyway. And if they don’t urge them on, they won’t get part of the campaign money to “chop”. It is just like during national elections where wives urge their husbands on, knowing well that the man they are married to is a political non-starter and, therefore, presidentially bankrupt.

Woe unto you if you told your presidential can-husband the truth. “Daddy, the way I see you, the way you walk, the way you dance, the way you snore and the way your mother no born you fine, I advise you to call it quits because you can’t beat your opponent. In fact, there is no way you can beat him. He is more handsome, dazzling, and more stylish and can talk big English.”

Such a politico-marital advice is a sure recipe for bedtime hostilities and an end to the happy marriage. “Who dare you tell me nonsense?” the man would explode. “Don’t you know I am a born-again politician? Haven’t you seen that my forehead is of presidential quality and design? Bad-luck woman! I’m going to divorce you first if I win the elections and shame you and the devil; Kwasia like thatt!”

Advertisement

With campus politics in those days, what was clear was that some candidates actually spent big sums of money on the electorate to court votes. It took the form of buying endless jugs of bubra and sharing “jot” around and sometimes money among close friends and campaign pushers. It was quite amusing because the more bubra you gave out, the less votes you got.

Anyhow the acid test of a candidate’s suitability or otherwise was determined at a face-to-face forum where each candidate orally vomited his manifesto and answered hot and peppered questions from the audience.

A candidate wasn’t only expected to talk sense, but also to talk big English. The idea is that when half the Merari Alomele’s audience do not understand what you say, it means you’re a mystery man and only mystery men can perform wonders and deliver the goods.

It turned out that those candidates who genuinely promised to make campus a better place for all with better facilities, better food and mandatory student loans were not applauded much. It was those who virtually said nothing progressive but reverberated in highfalutin language and used phrases like “progresso-reactionary polarization” who won the elections. Tragically enough, the users of such magniloquent phrases least understood them but won hands down.

Advertisement

So successful campus politics at the time did not depend on appealing to the good sense of fellow students but on the amount and quality of kpokpomatic linguistic delivery in the Queen’s language, and if it was guaranteed that the candidate did not understand what he was saying, he was sure to win.

Luckily, it is not so in national politics. You really have to talk sense. And if you insult, you lose.

Questions time was another palaver altogether. One single question from an adversary could send you directly to the grave, no-curve-no-bend. “Mr Aspiring Candidate my question is not a lorgorligi one. It is direct to the point. We all know that that once a thief, always a thief. I was in the same secondary school with you and you were one of the prefects. I lie? When you were in office, you couldn’t account for certain monies paid to you and got sanctioned by the authorities.

Number two; it is no secret that you are a man of great appetite. It is on record that you once won a food-eating competition. We’ve also heard reports from the grapevine that after devouring your own gari and shito in record time, you unilaterally took over that of your room-mate and finished it also. Congratulations.

Advertisement

Now your room mate is facing acute hunger and needs foreign aid to survive. He has grown lean like a dog. What makes you think you can be our leader?”

Such questions have two poisonous ingredients. The first can induce instant hypertension and stroke enough to reduce your lifespan by half. The second is to inform you officially that it would be a miracle if you won the election, so you are so better off not responding to the questions.

Campus politics is sometimes very much like national politics except that it is quite opposite in some instances. The only real differences border on the fact that national politics is somewhat of a higher level when it comes to treachery, corruption, insults, whatever.

Politics in general, however, concerns all about big talk and money both of which can lead a candidate either to succeed or to gnash teeth. I have been following the happenings in the New and Patriotic Party (NPP) for interest and I personally see nothing dangerously wrong with politicians dishing out money so long as every other politician is either guilty doing same, or is capable of doing so at a future date.

Advertisement

I was a bit surprised some politicians said they were alarmed that delegates were being bribed, as if it had never happened at any time in the history of the parties.

What I know is that you can bribe and still lose just like it used to happen on campus, because voting is by secret ballot.

If you’re popular, nothing can influence your success, and it is only in few cases that money can easily influence the political direction of a voter. In fact, with secret balloting, bribery isn’t a big factor, because everybody has his (or her) favourite he wouldn’t sacrifice for 30 pieces of silver.

VENGEANCE

Advertisement

As it were in Sikaman general elections, it is not a matter of big English, overflowing knowledge or Big money. It is a matter of what the country’s priorities because Ghanaians are becoming sensitive to a fact that with some people, entrusting them with affairs of the state would be a national disaster not cause they are incompetent, but because their motives for becoming the country’s leaders are not in the interest of the nation. Theirs is vengeance!

Secondly, it is a matter of what a person is capable of doing, and not what he thinks he can do or dreams can do. With politics, dreams are only dreams what we need is the truth. And the truth is that Ghana is not going to make it unless we forget our differences, stop bearing grudges and act in concert towards continuous growth and development.

This article was first published on Saturday, April 13, 1995

Advertisement
Continue Reading
Advertisement

Features

The audit of the years: Why old age does not reward sacrifice- Part 1

Published

on

We are raised on a foundational myth: that sacrifice is a currency, and time is a bank that honors it. From youth, we are fed the romantic notion that self-denial is an investment.

We are told that if we starve our own ambitions to feed the collective, if we endure silent strains, postpone our vitality, and mortgage our peace for the security of others or the demands of an unrelenting system, the ledger will eventually balance.

We are led to believe that old age is a benevolent auditor-a quiet season where the universe presents a receipt for our endurance and hands back comfort, reverence, and ease.

It does not.

Advertisement

Old age is not a rewards ceremony; it is a reckoning. And the bitterest truth of longevity is that aging does not care how much you gave up. It cares only how you are built to withstand the descent.

The myth of deferred living

To sacrifice is to treat the present as a disposable bridge to a destination that rarely resembles the brochure. In the architecture of a lifetime, the human body and mind operate under strict biological and emotional laws.

Every time you override your limits, swallow your voice, or defer your joy for a hypothetical tomorrow, you are not saving credit-you are accumulating debt in tissue, joint, and spirit.

Advertisement

When people reach advanced age, the societal narrative expects them to bask in a golden twilight of quiet dignity earned through decades of self-effacement. But look closer at the reality of unrewarded sacrifice.

The worn-out joints do not ache with the romantic resonance of a noble history; they ache simply because they were overspent on things that ultimately did not require or appreciate the cost.

The silence kept to keep the peace turns into an isolation that no one bothers to breach.

Time does not compound the value of a sacrificed life. It merely exposes the vacancy left behind.

Advertisement

The biological and psychological toll

From a systemic standpoint, chronic self-denial is a high-stress pathology. The nervous system remembers every time you ignored its signals in favor of duty.

Structural Breakdown: Chronic tension-whether physical or emotional-alters posture, compresses the spine, and locks the body into defensive, braced patterns that harden over decades.

The Emotional Ledger: Emotional suppression leaves a residue that compounds into bitterness or detachment. When the external roles that demanded your sacrifice (the relentless career, the draining obligation, the unreciprocated loyalty) finally fall away, what remains is not a triumphant hero, but a depleted vessel wondering where the trade-off went.

Advertisement

The universe has no sentimental attachment to your martyrdom. Biology does not check your resume to see how many weekends you surrendered. It responds strictly to mechanics, alignment, and nourishment. If you spent your life running on empty to fuel everyone else’s engine, your own chassis simply wears out sooner, leaving you stranded on the roadside of your own history.

Reclaiming sovereignty before the audit

If old age refuses to honor sacrifice, then the only intelligent response is to stop offering it. Sovereignty cannot be postponed until retirement; it must be practiced in the present tense.

Sovereign living requires a radical shift in how we value our energy:

Advertisement

Cease the silent ledger: Stop keeping a mental tally of what you endure for others, expecting a delayed payout. If a duty requires your self-destruction, it is a bad investment. Cut the losses now.

Honor the vessel first: No system, institution, or relationship is worth the structural integrity of your body and mind. Alignment and self-preservation are not selfish; they are the baseline requirements for a functional existence.

Redefine legacy: True legacy is not built on how much you endured, but on how fully you inhabited your own autonomy. People are remembered not for how quietly they suffered, but for the distinct, uncompromised shape of their truth.

The years will pass whether you spend them as a perpetual offering or as an autonomous agent. The calendar does not pity the martyr. Strip away the romanticism of endless endurance, reclaim your boundaries, and demand that your life pay dividends now-because the future owes nothing to those who spent it all on a receipt that nobody is going to cash.

Advertisement

By Robert Ekow Grimmond-Thompson

Continue Reading

Features

Palaver of the Sikaman media and the future

Published

on

WITH the advent of multi-party democracy, press freedom was born again. And soon after, Ghanaian journalists started speaking in tongues. Small groups of people, infected with the idea of a free press, got together and sought finance to produce newspapers.

The newspaper craze was also contagious and overnight, the newsstands became laden with newspapers of various sizes, colours, shades, emotions and, of course, notoriety.

Readers of newspapers became confused. With purchasing power constraints to consider, they didn’t know which papers to buy. Moreover, it was difficult to know immediately which papers were worth reading and which were mere garbage.

The Media
The Media

Soon, the sheep were separated from the goats. Some papers which got no saleable news and survived on lies and speculations were eventually boycotted. When they couldn’t break even, they quietly left the stands. Others were hopelessly sub-standard in content, language and layout. For some time, they survived on artificial respiration but lapsed into coma. Others simply disappeared after paying damages for libel.

Today, the fittest have survived, notable among them the Ghanaian Chronicle, Independent, Free Press, Ghana Palaver, Democrat, Public Agenda, Statesman, P & P and Insight. They are slugging it out on the stands and only time will tell which of them would survive the beginning of the next millennium.

Advertisement

On the electronic front, radio stations have come operating Frequency Modulation (FM) units. Short Wave (SW) being too expensive to venture into, the result is JOY 99.7 FM, GOLD, ATLANTIC, CHOICE FM and other private regional, town and cottage FM stations that dot various parts of the country.

These have brought about variety and jobs. So have the television stations. Ghana Television (GTV) is facing competition from TV3 and Metro TV. Competition brings about in efficiency, and for once we can all see that GTV is performing better after being divested of the monopoly it enjoyed.

Journalists who man the newspapers, radio and television stations together form the Ghana Journalists Association (GJA), an association which, until recent years, existed only in name. It is now feverishly preparing to celebrate its Golden Jubilee, an occasion I believe will give more meaning to the Association and anchor it firmly for good as a closely-knit union of Ghanaian media practitioners.

PRINT MEDIA

Advertisement

Print journalism has really come a long way, plodding on like the proverbial snail, hoping to achieve the ultimate. It has had to contend with vicissitudes of fortunes as one political era succeeded another.

Of interest is also the fact that from the cut-and-paste method, press outfits now employ desktop publishing techniques with PageMaker components, making the job easy and speedy.  From for four-page newspapers we can now boast of are 30 pages and more, radio stations are on air 24 hours a day.

The development of the media is one thing people have taken note of, and in years to come, the fourth estate of the realm will be well-equipped to collect and dispense information more efficiently, more accurately, and more speedily.

There is another side to it. The media is likely to develop into a monster, the way it has developed to harass Lady Diana, the Princess of Wales, to her death; the way it has made Bill Clinton very uncomfortable by making a showpiece of his private sex life, and hundreds of others.

Advertisement

Indeed, until her death, the Princess had no privacy. She couldn’t sneeze without it being reported somewhere in a newspaper, complete with pictures in colour. At one stage, she lamented being a celebrity and asked the press to leave her alone to lead her life without world attention. She died while speeding away from pressmen who were furiously chasing her (and her boyfriend) on motorcycles.

If the press develops in Sikaman to the extent that it can in future drive someone to his or her death, cause heart attacks, and destroy families and leaders, can be tolerated as it has been in the United States and Europe?

Some of us think that becoming copycats of alien values and foreign systems is causing more harm than good to our society. For instance, it would be very unfortunate if the Ghanaian media developed to the negative extent that it can publish pictures nude girls as some British tabloids do.

The African culture is a decent one and should not be tainted with the wholesale acceptance of everything western.  In Europe there are magazines for homosexuals and lesbians, glorifying their acts and promoting their perverted ideals.

Advertisement

The homosexual culture is gradually seeping into African countries, Sikaman inclusive. Should we, therefore, expect to see a homosexual magazine on our newsstands one day?

If the European and American press can harass celebrities, presidents and top shots to the point of discomfort and even death, should the African press copy same if our culture is palpably different in form and orientation, history and tradition?

What I would like to see of a future Ghanaian media is a development-oriented press system seeking to promote the ideals of societal progress, economic growth, agricultural development, political unity, social cohesion and technological advancement.

And what I’d hate to see is the kind of media that is overly interested in wanting to know what the president eats for breakfast, which women he has spoken to of late, and when he is likely to sneeze without covering his nose with a handkerchief.

Advertisement

What I’d also hate to see is a media that seeks to play one tribe against the other, take to pornography or pry into the private lives of people not for any other purpose than to sell newspapers that only thrive on the obscene.

I’ve heard some editors say, “If you don’t write and insult Rawlings your paper won’t sell.” What kind of mentality is that?

The African press must develop, but it must do so in a positive way and not in the negative and destructive sense.

This article was first published on Saturday August 29, 1998

Advertisement
Continue Reading
Advertisement

Trending