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Do something before you die

 I am an avid reader. I read anything I can lay my hands on. But above all, I love biographies and their auto forms. History as a subject was not my strong point in school but I developed a keen interest in historical narratives when I went to train as a teacher. Apart from textbooks, it was in the early sixties that I first read a book titled, “Beyond Pardon” by Bertha M. Clay. I was so enchanted by the nar­rative, which kick started the desire for reading in me. And I have never looked back.

I have kept asking myself why people write, why people read and why people do not read or write. The answers, I believe, can be a volume by itself. My focus today is on our politi­cians, captains of industry and public office holders.

In the United States, for example, it has become a self-imposition for public office holders to write their memoires once they leave office. These memoires become a source of knowledge for up and coming students in leadership, a source of reference for all and they also tell the true stories of the char­acters that have run affairs of their people.

I have read Bill Clinton’s autobi­ography, that of his wife, Hillary, and Magdalene Albright who was once a Secretary of State. I have read Barack Obama’s books before he became Presi­dent of the US.

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I have read Nelson Mandela. Lee Kwan Yu and many others I cannot readily recall. They all had great sto­ries to tell.

General Colin Powell, who died just a few days ago, has books to his name after leaving office as the first Black to serve as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs and also as the first Black Secretary of State of the United States.

I have also read books by some African leaders. Leopold Senghor of Senegal, Kenneth Kaunda of Zambia

 and Jomo Kenyatta of Kenya readily come to mind. These were men who won independence for their respective countries.

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Only last week, Mr. Enoch Teye Mensah, a member of the Council of State, launched Volume One of a book he has authored. On June 14 this year, my classmate and good brother, Ken Dzirasa, who was a Deputy Speaker of Ghana’s Parliament, also launched his memoires.

These are very good signs that our history as a people has a chance of not getting lost. At the launch, the current Speaker of Parliament, the Rt. Hon­ourable Alban Sumana Bagbin, who did the honours, stated the importance of public figures to write their memoires for posterity to be their judge. Mr. Speaker pledged to complete his own before this year ends.

It is difficult to understand why public office holders in our parts have not cultivated the habit of writing. Only a few have bothered to do so. Dr. Kwame Nkrumah comes readily to mind. He wrote very extensively while he was even President of this country. I recollect President John Mahama’s “My First Coup d’état.”

Dr. Obed Asamoah has authored a book after he left office. Mr. Sylvester Mensah, who had been a Member of Parliament, also has a publication to his name. Professor Kwamina Ahwoi has one that generated a storm before the death of President Rawlings.

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I have spoken to a few people who tell me writing would bring no financial benefits to them because Ghanaians and, for that matter, Africans have not cultivated the habit of reading.

This might be largely true, but if every writer wants economic returns I wonder if knowledge can be shared at all. There is a saying that if you want to hide anything from the black man, put it inside a book; he will never find it. It is about time we disabused our minds of this.

I recollect asking my elder brother, the late Squadron Leader Abraham Armstrong Segbefia, who was enlisted in the Air Force the same day as Jerry Rawlings to consider writing his mem­oires as one of the people involved in the June Four and 31st December eras. He promised he would, but before he could finish the second chapter, he died.

When I went to announce his death to Rawlings in November of 2007, I impressed upon him to give it a thought as well. He appeared nonplussed, though a few years later he called to inform me he was considering writing. I reminded him he was not growing younger.

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Another couple of years later, Pres­ident Rawlings invited me for a chat and told me he wanted the launch of what he was writing to coincide with his 70th birthday.

The last time I met with him before his sudden passing, he said he needed to review a chapter or two to clear the air on some of the things Professor Ahwoi had alleged in his book.

I am unaware if Rawlings did that before his passing. If he had that pro­ject, I will humbly appeal to his family to have whatever the man had done published. Whatever it is will be a best seller.

The man I consider to have the rich­est recollection of historical facts and whose memoires will be the greatest source of reference for politicians and students of governance in this country is Captain Kojo Tsikata.

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I don’t easily recollect the last time I met and spoke with him, but I have impressed upon Dr. Obed Asamoah and Captain Joel Kwami Sowu to convince Kojo Tsikata to write his memoires. Dr. Asamoah told me he had on many occa­sions asked Capt. Tsikata to write, but Tsikata has made up his mind that he would not put one letter of the alpha­bet down to his name.

People who know Captain Kojo Tsika­ta well are not surprised by his stand on writing a memoire. First, they say whatever he writes will be very explo­sive and, secondly, he is too private a person to want to write anything down.

It is sad for this country. Many prom­inent Ghanaians have died without leaving any written legacy for gener­ations to appreciate what they lived and stood for. Oral historical narratives are fraught with inconsistencies and embellishments that leave so much to be desired.

I doff my hat to those who have tak­en the bold step of putting down their own narratives for us to chew on. The question now is what the rest intend to do or are doing. Not only those in the lime light. Captains of industry, retired military officers, medical officers, engineers, journalists and a host of others have their stories to tell. How did they fare in their fields of profes­sional endeavour? What challenges did they face in their line of duty? We want to be enlightened on these. The coming generation will learn to skirt these challenges.

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Let us not die with our store of knowledge and experiences. It is to humanity that this must be done. Do it for your children. Do it for the future of this country. Do it for mankind as a whole. Let us not run away from sharing our knowledge. Do something before you die!

By Dr. Akofa K. Segbefia

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Tears of Ghanaman, home and abroad

• Sikaman residents are more hospital to foreign guests than their own kin
• Sikaman residents are more hospital to foreign guests than their own kin

The typical native of Sikaman is by nature a hospitable creature, a social animal with a big heart, a soul full of the milk of earthly good­ness, and a spirit too loving for its own comfort.

Sikaman Palava
Sikaman Palava

Ghanaman hosts a foreign pal and he spends a fortune to make him very happy and comfortable-good food, clean booze, excellent accommoda­tion and a woman for the night.

Sometimes the pal leaves without saying a “thank you but Ghanaman is not offended. He’d host another idiot even more splendidly. His nature is warm, his spirit benevolent. That is the typical Ghanaian and no wonder that many African-Americans say, “If you haven’t visited Ghana. Then you’ve not come to Africa.

You can even enter the country without a passport and a visa and you’ll be welcomed with a pot of palm wine.

If Ghanaman wants to go abroad, especially to an European country or the United States, it is often after an ordeal.

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He has to doze in a queue at dawn at the embassy for days and if he is lucky to get through to being inter­viewed, he is confronted by someone who claims he or she has the power of discerning truth from lie.

In short Ghanaman must undergo a lie-detector test and has to answer questions that are either nonsensical or have no relevance to the trip at hand. When Joseph Kwame Korkorti wanted a visa to an European country, the attache studied Korkorti’s nose for a while and pronounced judgment.

“The way I see you, you won’t return to Ghana if I allow you to go. Korkorti nearly dislocated her jaw; Kwasiasem akwaakwa. In any case what had Korkorti’s nose got to do with the trip?

If Ghanaman, after several at­tempts, manages to get the visa and lands in the whiteman’s land, he is seen as another monkey uptown, a new arrival of a degenerate ape coming to invade civilized society. He is sneered at, mocked at and avoided like a plague. Some landlords abroad will not hire their rooms to blacks because they feel their presence in itself is bad business.

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When a Sikaman publisher land­ed overseas and was riding in a public bus, an urchin who had the impudence and notoriety of a dead cockroach told his colleagues he was sure the black man had a tail which he was hiding in his pair of trousers. He didn’t end there. He said he was in fact going to pull out the tail for everyone to see.

True to his word he went and put his hand into the backside of the bewildered publisher, intent on grab­bing his imaginary tail and pulling it out. It took a lot of patience on the part of the publisher to avert murder. He practically pinned the white mis­creant on the floor by the neck and only let go when others intervene. Next time too…

The way we treat our foreign guests in comparison with the way they treat us is polar contrasting-two disparate extremes, one totally in­comparable to the other. They hound us for immigration papers, deport us for overstaying and skinheads either target homes to perpetrate mayhem or attack black immigrants to gratify their racial madness

When these same people come here we accept them even more hospi­tably than our own kin. They enter without visas, overstay, impregnate our women and run away.

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About half of foreigners in this country do not have valid resident permits and was not a bother until recently when fire was put under the buttocks of the Immigration Service

In fact, until recently I never knew Sikaman had an Immigration Service. The problem is that although their staff look resplendent in their green outfit, you never really see them any­where. You’d think they are hidden from the public eye.

The first time I saw a group of them walking somewhere, I nearly mistook them for some sixth-form going to the library. Their ladies are pretty though.

So after all, Sikaman has an Immi­gration Service which I hear is now alert 24 hours a day tracking down illegal aliens and making sure they bound the exit via Kotoka Interna­tional. A pat on their shoulder.

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I am glad the Interior Ministry has also realised that the country has been too slack about who goes out or comes into Sikaman.

Now the Ministry has warned foreigners not to take the country’s commitment to its obligations under the various conditions as a sign of weakness or a source for the abuse of her hospitality.

“Ghana will not tolerate any such abuse,” Nii Okaija Adamafio, the Interior Minister said, baring his teeth and twitching his little moustache. He was inaugurating the Ghana Refu­gee and Immigration Service Boards.

He said some foreigners come in as tourists, investors, consultants, skilled workers or refugees. Others come as ‘charlatans, adventurers or plain criminals. “

Yes, there are many criminals among them. Our courts have tried a good number of them for fraud and misconduct.

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It is time we welcome only those who would come and invest or tour and go back peacefully and not those whose criminal intentions are well-hidden but get exposed in due course of time.

This article was first published on Saturday March 14, 1998

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 Decisions have consequences

 In this world, it is always important to recognise that every action or decision taken, has consequences.

It can result in something good or bad, depending on the quality of the decision, that is, the factors that were taken into account in the deci­sion making.

The problem with a bad decision is that, in some instances, there is no opportunity to correct the result even though you have regretted the decision, which resulted in the un­pleasant outcome.

This is what a friend of mine refers to as having regretted an unregreta­ble regret. After church last Sunday, I was watching a programme on TV and a young lady was sharing with the host, how a bad decision she took, had affected her life immensely and adversely.

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She narrated how she met a Cauca­sian and she got married to him. The white man arranged for her to join him after the marriage and process­es were initiated for her to join her husband in UK. It took a while for the requisite documentation to be procured and during this period, she took a decision that has haunted her till date.

According to her narration, she met a man, a Ghanaian, who she started dating, even though she was a mar­ried woman.

After a while her documents were ready and so she left to join her husband abroad without breaking off the unholy relationship with the man from Ghana.

After she got to UK, this man from Ghana, kept pressuring her to leave the white man and return to him in Ghana. The white man at some point became a bit suspicious and asked about who she has been talking on the phone with for long spells, and she lied to him that it was her cousin.

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Then comes the shocker. After the man from Ghana had sweet talked her continuously for a while, she decided to leave her husband and re­turn to Ghana after only three weeks abroad.

She said, she asked the guy to swear to her that he would take care of both her and her mother and the guy swore to take good care of her and her mother as well as rent a 3-bedroom flat for her. She then took the decision to leave her hus­band and return to Ghana.

She told her mum that she was re­turning to Ghana to marry the guy in Ghana. According to her, her mother vigorously disagreed with her deci­sion and wept.

She further added that her mum told her brother and they told her that they were going to tell her hus­band about her intentions.

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According to her, she threatened that if they called her husband to inform him, then she would commit suicide, an idea given to her by the boyfriend in Ghana.

Her mum and brother afraid of what she might do, agreed not to tell her husband. She then told her hus­band that she was returning to Ghana to attend her Grandmother’s funeral.

The husband could not understand why she wanted to go back to Ghana after only three weeks stay so she had to lie that in their tradition, grandchildren are required to be present when the grandmother dies and is to be buried.

She returned to Ghana; the flat turns into a chamber and hall accom­modation, the promise to take care of her mother does not materialise and generally she ends up furnishing the accommodation herself. All the promises given her by her boyfriend, turned out to be just mere words.

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A phone the husband gave her, she left behind in UK out of guilty conscience knowing she was never coming back to UK.

Through that phone and social media, the husband found out about his boyfriend and that was the end of her marriage.

Meanwhile, things have gone awry here in Ghana and she had regretted and at a point in her narration, was trying desperately to hold back tears. Decisions indeed have consequences.

NB: ‘CHANGE KOTOKA INTERNA­TIONAL AIRPORT TO KOFI BAAKO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT’

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