Features
An SOS call from the motorway
Driver from Accra to Tema is often thrilling when you hit the fast-track idea and get cracking down the motorway almost airborne. In six or seven minutes, you must ease up. Welcome to the Harbour City.
While decelerating, you are likely to look to the left, and there lies Ashaiman, a town of many parts. You are forced to make a slight bow in honour of one of Sikaman’s unkempt habitations. That is also where some armed robbers are born and bred, using the motorway for their practical attachment.
Some of the robbers were not born criminals, though. They began life as corn-mill attendants and as magicians, but magic is not paying these days. Armed robbery is the single most lucrative profession today after church business. So the magicians now turn to procure arms not to fight a civil war, but to make money.
Along the length of the motorway, there are various camps for the robbers, some of whom come from Baatsona area, some from Accra suburbs and of course Ashaiman, otherwise known as Hanoi. Business begins at about 8:30 p.m. on week days, 7:00pm at weekends and public holidays.
The targets are motorists. There is an overhead bridge somewhere along the motorway, from where some criminals drop boulders or blocks on cars to disconcert the drivers. It is a trick to get them to stop to find out what the hell is happening. They are then pounced upon and robbed.
Cars that break down are rather easy prey. The robbers just walk leisurely to the driver and demand all the money on him, his briefcase, watch, shoes, shirt, trousers and all. If you are not careful, you can end up at home like a mad man completely naked.
That is, if you are not lucky and they ask you to hand over your “supporter” as well.
Well, if you are a lady, you can well imagine your fate.
The problem with the motorway is that when you break down at night, the palaver is between you and your God. No motorist is prepared to stop and help you because everyone is thinking you might be an armed robber posing as a motorist in distress.
On February 1, 2001, I was cruising comfortably on the motorway in my Concord, listening to some good music on Atlantis FM, wishing to get home early to catch some rest. Perched on the front seat beside me was a lady colleague I lifted. She usually alights at the end of the motorway.
I was enjoying the ride and it was about 5:50 p.m. when the Concord developed a fault with all the jerks and power off. I veered into the pedestrian lane and realised I was really in for it. Luckily, a taxi had also developed a fault and a mechanic was fixing it up. He came up to me and asked to help. I opened the bonnet.
He did what he could and asked me to start the engine. It kicked into life and I was delighted. “What’s my charge?
He picked up the money and I zoomed away. 100 metres away, the car grounded to a halt again. I asked the lady to stay by the car; I’ll do a quick dash to fetch the mechanic.
“I’m afraid,” she said. “What of if armed men come here?”
Okay, I’ll stay here. Walk briskly and get the mechanic down. He took the money and did no job. Drag him right here.”
She walked back to get the mechanic. It was about 6:30 pm and she wasn’t getting back early enough with the guy. I was worried. I started walking after her to see what the hell was happening. I saw her from the distance returning alone. “Jesus Christ of Nazareth,” I said to myself.
I didn’t know I was such a good Christian. The word “Jesus Christ came naturally to me, the only one who could save me.
The lady and I now started waving down speeding motorists and none stopped. One attempted to stop, but I guess he decided otherwise when he saw my height and frame.
I am six feet tall and I look like a semi-professional heavyweight before. Actually I can deliver a slugger when it comes to it, but that has never been my style. I’m quite sure the man who decided to stop but sped on thought I was a very dangerous criminal playing a trick.
The lady and myself kept begging for anybody to stop and just listen to what we had to say. For about one hour, we were at it. At a certain point, I wanted to kneel down so that passing motorists would not be terrified at my height. Of course, nothing worked so far.
I had to seek the face of God. Earlier, I had alerted Jesus Christ that an SOS call was in the pipeline. I started praying silently to myself. The time was about 7:45pm. Time was running out. “Oh Jesus, it is only you who can deliver me, Kwame Alomele and this lady from evil. If you don’t do it, who else can? Our trust is all in you….”
It is a long time since I attended church, and I wondered whether Jesus was listening to me. “Jesus, you came to redeem sinners, not the righteous,”
I reminded Him, “Please, save me.” And He did.
A car sped by but miraculously screeched to a halt about 100 metres away “Oh glory! Oh glory!” I intoned.
A man came out. “I think I know Are you not the writer?”
Yes sir. My car broke down here and none is stopping to help us out. What’s your name sir?”
That’s not necessary now. I’ll get you to Tema and then we can find a mechanic or someone to tow your car.”
I picked up my briefcase, removed the tape and locked the power windows. We hopped into his car and off we went, leaving the Concord behind. Even if they removed the windscreens, it could be better than going home naked.
It was about 9:00 pm when we tracked down my mechanic and by the time I finally got home it was 11:00 am. A day well spent on a motorway that had no police patrol, no security of my sort, to phone system, nothing. That is why the armed robbers are having a field day on Ghana’s beloved motorway.
Features
The Cop, press and lost fingers
The job of a policeman, whether he is short or tall, is not a cheap one. He is supposed to keep the peace, protect society and monitor the activities of local magicians and money doublers who are specialists in making civil servants lose their pay within seconds.
By far the most difficult job of the policeman is when he is expected to arrest a murderer who is not only armed but also has a record of appearing and disappearing at will. Even if the tough cop is in the company of other policemen all armed to the teeth, his stomach will turn to water when the criminal suddenly appears.
He is terrified not because the criminal is a better marksman, but because nobody dies twice. The problem also is that a criminal might be prepared to die in a bid to shoot his way to freedom. But is the police-man prepared to risk death in the course of duty when he has a family to rear.
If he had just acquired a new girlfriend with whom he is enjoying life, should he not run away with his tail between his legs and tell his boss that the criminal is uncatchable?
Before some policemen go on patrol duties, they actually pray solemnly. “God send me into the wilderness and bring me back safely with my nose intact because I’m worth more than a common rat. I also do not want to die like a stray dog. If a bullet is targeted at my forehead, Holy Spirit please let it go over the bar, because six children is not a small palaver. If I die, who will look after them? Lord keep me safe day by day. Amen!”
The Sikaman policeman’s job is a risky one because he is not properly equipped with even a trained dog to help track down criminals easily. So he has to use his own nose judiciously in sniffing out suspects while making sure a bullet doesn’t catch him square on the jaw.
My friend Sir Kofi Owuo, a.k.a. Death-By-Poverty was telling me journalists are in an even riskier profession. Apparently, he had been reading about the palaver of journalists in places like Algeria and Columbia. Algeria, even women journalists are not spared assassin’s bullet. You’d see them lying in front of their homes with their heads full of bullet holes.
In Columbia, no journalist is safe. When a journalist is leaving home, he has to tell his wife. “Darling, when I don’t come back by 7 p.m. check the mortuary
The drug trade in Columbia has made journalism a profession not worth practising. If you write on cocaine and the harm it is inflicting on society, you’ll certainly receive a phone call.
“Hello, Mr Journalist, your article yesterday was great. Congratulations! We never knew you were such brilliant writer, championing the cause of society. Again we say congrats! But you know something, by your article, you want to take the bread out of my and that of my family. You don’t want us to beak. We are aggrieved beyond measure”
“Oh, I was just… “You’d try to say something
“You don’t have to explain. The harm has already been done by your award-winning masterpiece. We have an appointment with you. You’ll hear from us.
Rest In Peace!” After such a phone call, you just have to pray to your soul, sing a hymn or two and get prepared fort appointment with death. For, death will surely come
I think pressmen in Sikaman would also have start informing their families appropriately before leaving for work now. “If I don’t come back early, I’m probably at the Ear, Nose and Throat Department of Korle- Bu checking a leakage in my left ear due to a gendarme slap from an AMA official. If you don’t see me there, track me down to the emergency ward. If you see a newly-made cripple, I’m the one”
What about referees? These days they are guarded during football matches so that the risk they bear in terms of lost teeth is minimal. Formerly, it used to be a job full of woes and tribulations.
You were expected to oversee a match in such way that would favour a particular team. If that is not done, you’ll get back home and your wife will not recognise you. She’ll mistake you for Frank Bruno who had just lost a bout. When she finally recognises you, she’ll fix some hot water to massage your poor face.
I hear that these days, apart from the protection referees receive, some are well-armed with Damfo Dzai, a kind of jack-knife that can carve a rowdy supporters face in several designs.
My Press Secretary and part-time bodyguard Devine Ankamah, was telling me if he happens to be a referee, he’d surely carry a Kalashnikov AK 47 rifle with him, complete with loaded magazine, before officiating matches. According to him, that is the only way to do the job without fear or favour. Anyone dares will lose his jaw.
Anyway, risky jobs require good remuneration. As Kwame Korkorti once said, risky jobs require risky salary. A policeman would require a good pay so that when a criminal targets his left ear it would be worth the ‘amputation’. Same for journalists and cameramen.
But go round private workplaces and factories and you’d see really risky occupations where workers are receiving salaries they can’t see with the naked eye.
In fact, in some private workplaces, environmental safety is completely absent. Workers breathe in fumes, poisonous gases and risk lung and respiratory problems. Their employers do nothing about protecting them against these hazards. Check out their payer.
In other places, workers have their fingers chopped off on the job, some losing as many as four fingers in stretch. The compensation they get can best be described as “wicked”. Their employers live big, chop big, ride big but are not willing to pay more than ¢120,000 for lost fingers.
Actually the more fingers you lose, the more money you get. So if you intend losing your fingers on the job, it is advisable to lose as many as possible so that you can get more cash. Those who have lost one finger have not benefited much and are encouraged to lose more next time around.
Sikaman Palava is undertaking to investigate some of these cases of very risky jobs in private setups and companies where workers are being exploited to unnecessarily but not offered protection against health hazards, and not properly compensated when they sustain injuries.
This article was first published on Saturday, September 28, 1996
Features
Position yourself for God’s blessings
Motivated by the impending 40-day fasting and needless to add prayer programme, preceding the Greater Works Conference scheduled for August in Accra, I would like to draw attention to how believers can receive blessings from God.
There is a scripture in Hebrews 11:5 that “By faith Enoch was translated that he should not see death; and was not found, because God had translated him: and before his translation, he had this testimony that he pleased God”.
This clearly shows that in order to receive blessings from God, you must please God. How can one please God? You can only please God by obeying him and walking in line with God’s word. Just like how children who obey their parents, enjoy special treatment, so does God deal with his children who obey his word.
There are ways by which people receive blessings from God and holiness is an important criteria in the whole equation. Holiness is a process and not a one day event.
It is a mindset borne out of walking in obedience to God’s instructions i.e. his word. In order to have a mindset of living to please God, requires studying God’s word coupled with praying and fasting.
This helps us to develop trust in God by knowing his nature, what he likes and dislikes. This is what will enable us to live to please him and for our faith in him also to increase.
The Bible says in Hebrews 11:6 that “But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him”
Fasting is one of the required criteria for blessings to be released and it goes with prayer because fasting without prayer is just a physical exercise. Fasting enables a person’s inner man to be in tune with the spirit of God and also becomes spiritually empowered to hear from God and also obey God.
Fasting enables a person’s spirit to feed on God’s word in a much more focused manner as compared to studying God’s word in normal times. As a result our spirit gains the upper hand to dominate the body and the soul, so that we are more conscious of the presence of God in our lives which causes us willingly the desire to live to obey God.
Holiness which is a prerequisite for pleasing God, can only manifest in our lives if we are able to overcome the desires of the flesh and this only happens when the flesh is subject to the spirit.
Apostle Paul said that “But l keep under my body, and bring it into subjection: lest that by any means when I have preached to others, I myself should not be castaway”, according to 1 Corinthians 9:27.
In order to bring the body or flesh into subjection so that believers will be able to live to please God, we have to study, God’s word in a certain state of mind which fasting and prayer appropriately provides.
Our minds are the battle grounds for decisions that either please God or the Devil. In order to please God so his blessings can be released upon our lives, we must continuously engage our minds with thoughts that is in line with God’s word.
Philippians 4:8 says that “Finally Brethren whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue and if there be any praise, think on these things”. May God help us to live to please him by meditating on things that please the Lord, so we shall be blessed in all aspects of our lives. God bless.
NB: ‘CHANGE KOTOKA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT TO KOFI BAAKO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT’
By Laud Kissi-Mensah
