Features
A dilemma called Ghana (Part 3)
The Independence Arch
In response to the first two parts of the above heading, a young banker sent me an email expressing amazement at the narratives because he did not live through the periods and heard very scanty accounts. He was sure he did not glean much from history textbooks.
I am encouraged by such responses because, having read many books on our country’s history, I came to the sad realization that many of the authors were influenced by their political, economic, or emotional biases. Historical narratives must be devoid of these.
I recall that when I stated factually that it was not Tetteh Quarshie who introduced cocoa to this country, I was almost taken to the cleaners by some people who claimed to be descendants of Tetteh Quarshie until I referred them to the evidence. But I have always given credit to Tetteh Quarshie for the variety he brought from Fernando Po, which was bigger and contained more beans than the smaller, elongated variety in the Gold Coast at the time.
Now, General Acheampong’s UNIGOV idea was shelved with a palace coup led by General F. W. K. Akuffo, a member of the governing SMC, that kicked him out and banished him to a forlorn enclave at Asuogyaman.
General Akuffo laid out plans for a return to constitutional democracy. A new constitution was drafted, and Ghanaians looked eagerly forward to electing their own rulers.
But there was a blot on the image of our soldiers. Having tasted power, many of them became more corrupt than the civilians, issuing out cheats for essential commodities to their favourites and lackeys.
But the citizens were just fed up with the men in uniform and were biding their time for them to head back to their barracks. It was a moment in our history when respect for soldiers hit a low point. Even military uniforms were being sold in the markets. Women could openly insult the men in uniform.
Then, just a few months before the general elections, on May 15, 1979, there was an attempt to overthrow the SMC junta. Political parties were campaigning in earnest. My sympathy was for the Action Congress Party (ACP), led by Colonel Frank George Bernasco. I simply loved and respected Bernasco.
The next edition of the Daily Graphic had a picture of a certain Flt. Lt. J. J. Rawlings, who was responsible for the coup attempt. When I saw the picture, I quickly remembered that I had seen him at the Officers Mess in Accra when I went to visit a senior who was himself a military officer. I saw the lanky, almost Caucasian figure sitting at a table with dark glasses that I thought were too large for his face.
He had crossed his legs on the table and used the cutlery as drumsticks, tapping on the edge of the table. He was in mufti, so I asked my host if children of diplomats had access to their Mess. His response in a low tone was, “That guy is a Flying Officer. Won the Speedbird trophy in airmanship. He’s called Rawlings.”
The public’s reaction was mixed. What in the devil’s name was this airman up to? The nation had had more than enough of these soldiers. The soldiers wanted to perpetuate themselves in power. What was going to happen with the elections around the corner? There were too many unanswered questions. Foreign media were in a frenzy in their condemnation of the attempt to derail the march to constitutional democracy.
Rawlings and a handful of soldiers were arrested and put on trial. He admitted being solely responsible and asked the military tribunal to set his men free. I think it was by divine providence that the trial was open to the public because Rawlings spoke about what was eating the other ranks up inside.
It was on the day Rawlings and his men were going to be sentenced to death that some junior officers went to free him from the cells of the Bureau of National Investigations (BNI), and so was the launch of what came to be known as the June 4 Uprising. An Armed Forces Revolutionary Council (AFRC) was to replace the SMC.
A housecleaning exercise was launched to cleanse the rot within the Armed Forces. According to Rawlings, there was a need to go back to the barracks on a clean slate. Some former military heads of state and a few other senior members of the SMC were put to the stakes and executed by firing squad. This marked a rather harrowing epoch in our nation’s history.
Students from all walks of life took to the streets in support of the Revolution and chanted, “Let the blood flow.” Women traders who were caught selling above reasonable prices were, in some cases, stripped and whipped by overzealous revolutionaries. Makola Number One market, suspected to be a citadel of profiteering by market women, was razed to the ground. It became known as Rawlings Park, albeit unofficially.
I have devoted this write-up to the June 4 era because last Sunday was exactly 44 years since that event. Ghanaians braced themselves to endure the excesses of the moment in the hope that the elections, which the AFRC guaranteed would take place so that they could get on with their civil lives.
The AFRC set up tribunals that handed down outrageously long prison terms to some operatives of the SMC, mainly senior military officers. These trials were not held in public, though. Businessmen who were suspected of profiteering were picked up by soldiers and taken to Gondar Barracks and “drilled” military-style.
But one thing that caught my interest was what Rawlings said at his trial. He said something to the effect that the ordinary Ghanaian could hardly afford a decent meal while the senior officers were living well, and also that the military was going back to the barracks with a dent on their image. This was what resonated with the other ranks, students, and anyone with a conscience for justice.
When I asked Rawlings later where he got the courage to make such a statement, he told me, “Chief, I was terrified of the consequences of my action on May 15 after my arrest. I knew I was going to get shot after the trial. Gbɔ kuku mevɔna hɛo, so I had nothing to lose. If that happened, Ghanaians would remember me for seeking justice for the downtrodden.”
Translated, the Ewe he spoke means that a dead goat fears no knife. Since he was sure to face the firing squad, he did not need to hold anything back.
As events unfolded, Rawlings carried a nation that needed redemption along with the Revolution. Ghanaians called him “Junior Jesus” and latched onto everything he said. If there were dissenters, they did not openly express themselves, perhaps for fear of being picked up.
True to its words, the AFRC allowed the general elections to go ahead. For the second time, I voted in a general election; of course, for Bernasco and his Action Congress Party (ACP). I was, however, amazed that the ACP won all ten constituencies in the Central Region and none in any other regions.
The People’s National Party (PNP), led by Dr. Hilla Limman, won the elections, and he was eventually sworn in as President.
Rawlings and his men retired to join their units in the Armed Forces. At the handover, Rawlings told the new president that Ghana was looking up to him to deliver and that they were going back to the barracks with the humility with which they came to power.
The first major action of President Limman was to retire Rawlings and members of the AFRC, and their known operatives. The death knell of the PNP administration was thus sounded. The excuse of the government was that, as a former head of state, Rawlings could not be in a subservient position. Rawlings rejected a hundred thousand-dollar offer to go and study abroad as his retirement package, which to him would have been a sellout.
Perhaps due to the revolution, Rawlings was seen as a threat to the Limman administration, so the Military Intelligence (MI) was tasked with keeping Rawlings and Captain Kojo Tsikata in their sights.
Kojo Tsikata was blatantly trailed, and when he eventually swerved them, the MI boss, Col. Annor Odjija, was reported to have told Limman that once they lost Tsikata, his government was in trouble.
When Odjija fled to Togo, Kojo Tsikata was leaving Lome for Accra when 31st December happened.
Writer’s email address:
akofa45@yahoo.com
By Dr. Akofa K. Segbefia
I have often been saddened by the condition of Sikaman musicians. Of course, some are not musicians. They are jokers who think anybody who can sing a hymn is a musician. And why wouldn’t they think so when people think that every man wearing a rasta hair is a reggae musician?
Well, these days, almost everybody is dreaming of becoming a musician, even some ministers and parliamentarians. And it is never too late for them to begin learning the solfas and composing songs like “If You Do Good You Do For Yourself,” after all, life begins at 60 these days. If you die three years later, that’s your luck.
For the jobless, becoming a musical star is an everyday dream. They think when you are a music maker, you automatically break alliance with poverty. They are often mistaken.
I know people who claim they are musicians but are always fasting not because they are devout moslems or are on a hunger strike, but because even one square meal a day is a perpetual wahala. And the only drink they can afford is the poor man’s holy whisky which has a thousand names including ‘Nyame Bekyere’.
Even most of the popular musicians we see in town claiming they are foreign-based stars are more of hustlers than musicians. When they tell you they are going on tour abroad, it is a careful way of saying they are going overseas to scrub the whiteman’s toilet or pick tomato or apples to save their neck from musical poverty.
When they are back to Sikaman, they appear quite flamboyant with chains hanging all over them. They change the few dollars they have scraped, spread it around and promptly get broke. Then they can organise another ‘tour’. In between tours, they struggle to release an album and that levels them up a bit on the financial balance.
It all points to the fact that the life of the average musician isn’t quite organised. He has no calendar, no programme and no concentration on the job. He has to wash plates, become a waiter, janitor and toilet scrubber while finding time to make music. No musician succeeds in life that way.
One musician I’ll always respect, who thinks deeper than the ordinary Sikaman musicians is Carlos Sakyi. He is not like the Kokoase guitar musicians who see the world just in terms of bitters, a willing girlfriend, constant supply of kokonte and jot.
Carlos, often loved for his percussive overtones in gospel music, and once a gospel-rock star, has studied the life of Sikaman musicians and has evolved a blue-print for a great improvement in their lives work, finances and comfort.
In short, he has simulated a Motown-style environment for musicians and his formula is working with accuracy with the five musicians he has started with. The blue-print is what has brought MEGASTAR into being. It was launched on September 15, 1995 at the National Theatre.
When it got launched, many probably thought Carlos was “too know or was dreaming more than he should and won’t think about himself. Anyhow, the MEGASTAR is now an institution musicians can look up to, a big phenomenon with lots of promise for struggling musicians.
Music business in the developed world is not the way we regard it cheaply here. A musician is never distracted by how his finances go; his contracts are entered, his engagements made, his interviews arranged, his personal security guaranteed.
Music is his business and that is where his mind is and his attention focuses. Other aspects of his life are programmed for him by his managers. They hire who has to light his cigarettes, massage him, drive his car and the one who will say “Good Luck” when he sneezes.
A bodyguard whose face is exactly like that of the devil is hired to scare off muggers, psychopaths and criminals in general. Sometimes his girls are organised for him.
So the only thing the musician does apart from sleeping and snoring is to concentrate on making music, and true to it, no one can succeed in any venture when he is distracted.
This is how the Michael Jacksons, Lionel Richies, Dolly Patons and Whitney Houstons have made it with dollars packed and over-flowing. They aren’t any better than Sikaman musicians. The only difference is that they know how to organise their lives.
I managed to corner Carlos Sakyi and asked him to tell me how MEGASTAR was doing. He is the Managing Director of Megastar Limited, a music company that has a board of directors and a chairman. Carlos Sakyi shares the proprietorship with a partner. Carlos himself was one great musician who played for a band that beat Eddy Grant on the charts.
“Megastar is in fact a concept born out of the idea that the future security of the Ghanaian musician which has always been in jeopardy can now be guaranteed. Artistes spend too much of their time doing things on their own, chasing money and not concentrating on music. So their full potential is never realised. Some are in fact producing at quarter-rate. That is why they aren’t making much headway,” he told me.
“Megastar is now giving them the chance of the lives. We handle the interviews of Megastar artiste, their press releases, costume, engagements and everything they hitherto used to do themselves. We get them exposed on M-Net and we have contacted BB to get on their programmes. We handle their finances pay them salaries and bonuses, so they only have to concentrate on music
“Most importantly,” he continued, “we do not make all the decisions. Management always meet with the musicians to take the decisions that affect them.”
But who are the Megastar musicians? One is the great Amakye Dede, a star from birth delivered onto the earth with music on his lips; he is the man who feeds hungry ears with musical salad and harmonic sausages. He is the recipient of many national awards.
Next is Naana Frimpong, a latter-day Carlos-groomed songbird with the voice of an angel. She sings to kill. Her beauty has charmed her audience and they stare and stare at her.
The sensational and fantalising Tagoe Sisters are the next. The twin music machine is one that has produced the cream, arguably the very best, of gospel music all these years. I hear they are inseparable; not even their better-halves can keep them apart. Are they Siamese? They dance, and when on stage, they move the crowd.
Then comes Reverend Yawson who is a known songwriter. He is imbued with the Holy Spirit, speaks in tongues and of course sings in tongues. He is God’s representative on the group.
What about my good friend and super-heavyweight, Jewel Ackah? He is a star figure. His appearance is awe-inspiring, his voice golden. A great delight to be-hold when at his best in stage-craftsmanship, he has beaten his contemporaries to it both on land and on sea.
They are the pioneers of the Motown idea. They are all releasing new albums this year. Let’s see how it all goes.
In recent years, the term “female rage” has gained significant traction, symbolising a collective shift in how women’s emotions are perceived and addressed.
This phenomenon is not merely a fleeting trend but a profound movement rooted in centuries of systemic injustices, personal betrayals, and societal expectations.
As women increasingly reclaim their anger, it is imperative to understand the multifaceted nature of female rage, its causes, and its implications for individuals and society at large.
The historical context of female anger
Historically, women’s emotions have been subject to dismissal, ridicule, and pathologisation. The term “hysteria,” originating from the Greek word for uterus, was used to describe women’s emotional states as irrational and uncontrollable.
This legacy of silencing and shaming has contributed to a culture where women’s anger is often suppressed or stigmatised.
However, with the rise of feminist movements, women are challenging these narratives, asserting their right to express anger and demand change.
The anatomy of female rage
Female rage is not a monolith; it is a complex and multifaceted emotion driven by various factors, including:
1. Societal expectations: The pressure to conform to traditional roles of passivity, politeness, and emotional labour.
2. Gender inequality and pay gaps: Frustration stemming from systemic discrimination in the workplace and beyond.
3. Sexual harassment and abuse: Trauma and anger resulting from pervasive violence and objectification.
4. Emotional labour and burnout: The unsustainable burden of managing emotions and responsibilities in personal and professional spheres.
5. Hormonal fluctuations: The impact of hormonal changes on emotional states, often overlooked or dismissed.
The power of anger: Reclaiming female rage
Far from being a destructive force, female rage can be a catalyst for change. When acknowledged and channelled constructively, anger can drive advocacy, policy reform, and resistance against inequality.
The #MeToo movement, women’s marches, and increased representation in politics are testaments to the power of collective female anger.
Addressing the Stigma: Towards a more inclusive dialogue
To fully harness the potential of female rage, society must address the stigma surrounding women’s anger. This involves:
1. Validation and recognition: Acknowledging women’s emotions as legitimate and worthy of attention.
2. Creating safe spaces: Providing platforms for women to express anger without fear of backlash.
3. Education and awareness: Challenging stereotypes and promoting understanding of women’s experiences.
4. Support systems: Offering resources and support for women dealing with trauma and systemic injustices.
Conclusion
The age of female rage is a moment of profound transformation, where women’s anger is no longer silenced but celebrated as a force for justice.
By understanding the roots of female rage and addressing the societal structures that fuel it, we can move towards a more equitable and compassionate world.
The journey is complex, but the destination-a society where women’s emotions are respected and their voices are heard is worth the struggle.
References:
[1] Chemudupati, P. (2022). _The Rage of Women: A Historical Perspective_.
[2] Traister, R. (2018). _Good and Mad:
By Robert Ekow Grimond-Thompson
