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Borla Man — Part Two
‘But, er… I don’t even know your name.’
‘Paul. Paul Allotey. I’m Sarah, by the way. Paul, why don’t you leave me here, since this is the last important thing I’m doing today?’
‘Okay. Now Sarah. I was just thinking. You will be here at the café for about an hour. By then it will be about twelve thirty. Then, you would be thinking of buying yourself some lunch, to eat here or to take home. So if you would please allow me, I will take you to one of the nicest eating places in town, and after you have sorted that one out, then I can drop you home. Just that one errand, then I won’t bother you again.’
‘You are not bothering me at all. You are being very kind to me. And I just realised you are a mind reader too. The last item on my agenda was lunch.’
‘I’m so glad I appeared at your doorstep, just in time.’
‘Okay. Now Paul, since you say the café is a comfortable place, let’s go in together, and you can do your work while I get my application done.’
‘Okay, Sarah. Thanks. Let’s go.’
We got back in the car at eleven forty-five.
‘So where are we going, Paul?’
‘To Royalty Restaurant. It’s a twenty-minute drive away.’
‘So, do you enjoy your job?’
‘Most certainly. I won’t change it, not even to be President. And am I right to say that you are preparing to enter the university?’
‘That’s my plan. I hope it works.’
‘It will, if you are determined and disciplined. You look very much like a disciplined person.’
‘Thank you very much.’
We arrived at Royalty in twenty-five minutes.
‘You are joining me for lunch, Paul?’
‘Thanks for the honour, Sarah. But the bill is on me.’
‘Aren’t you taking on too much for one day?’
‘I never do anything that is bigger than me, Sarah.’
Over the next hour and a half, we discussed fashion, local and international politics, and sports, as we ate and relaxed. Finally, he drove me to the shop.
‘I will never forget you, Paul.’
‘I’m glad to have been helpful. But if you don’t mind, I’ll say it again, your husband is extremely lucky. You are really beautiful.’
‘Thanks again. But do you mind if I call you sometime in the future?’
‘Certainly not. Let me write it here. I will not ask for your number, for obvious reasons. But I will be looking forward to hearing from you. And hopefully, I will see you next month, when I call to drop your bill.’
I got home by seven. I went straight to the bedroom, stood in the mirror, and took a good look at myself.
‘You are a very beautiful woman, Sarah. Never forget that.’ I will not forget that again.
Over the next several weeks, Martin and I had very little to do with each other. In the morning he ate his breakfast and after a shabby, ‘I’m going,’ he left. He came home around eight at the earliest, ate his dinner, and, already soaked in beer, went off to sleep.
He spent the greater part of the weekends at the clubhouse with his friends, playing tennis and partying. My mind was focused on furthering my education, so I didn’t complain to him, and didn’t bother to inform my parents about what was happening. I had decided that I would only take action if he lifted his hand against me again. I spent my free time reading all manner of interesting stuff on the internet, and chatting with my sister on WhatsApp.
One evening, he came home at about eight, rushed to the bedroom, and rushed out. An envelope, obviously containing money, dropped out of his pocket, and I picked it up and followed him. I was going to call him and give it to him, but I noticed that there was a young woman in the car, so I went back in, counted it, and put it in a drawer in the hall. He came back after some ten minutes.
‘Excuse me, I dropped an envelope containing money. You must have seen it.’
‘Yes, I saw it. Actually, I followed you, and was about to call you and hand it over when I realised there was a woman in the car, so I came back in. I counted it—one thousand cedis.’
‘Well, let me have it. I have to be going.’
‘I will let you have it if you tell me who the woman in the car is, and why you are going to give her that amount of money.’
‘Listen, if you waste my time, I will teach you a lesson you will never forget. Give me the money now!’
‘Here’s what we will do, Martin. I know you will give money to her anyway, so I will give it to you if you withdraw the threat you just issued. But I want you to know that I will be taking some steps from tomorrow. Things are getting out of hand.’
‘Okay, I’m sorry I threatened you. Can you please give me the money?’ I handed it over to him, and he ran out.
The following morning, I waited for him to finish having breakfast and told him I wanted to have a word with him urgently.
‘You better be quick. You know I’m going to work.’
‘Well, my daughter. I’m not going to say “I told you so.” I was only trying to protect you. So here’s what we’ll do: continue doing the best you can, and try not to give him any excuse to harm you. But if things continue to deteriorate, I will take you back.’
A couple of days later, my cousin Dinah arrived in Accra from Brussels, having completed her medical course. With Martin’s agreement, I went to Koforidua and spent a couple of days. I spent most of the time chatting about her experiences in the US, but we also discussed my relationship with Martin, and she endorsed Dad’s decision to take action if Martin’s behaviour did not change after two weeks.
Dinah returned with me to Takoradi. Her plan was to spend a couple of weeks and return to Accra to be posted. I called Paul Allotey, and asked if he would meet her for lunch and, if possible, show her some interesting spots. Delighted, he suggested that we meet at Royalty the next day. I told Martin about it, to remove any possibility of future disagreement over ‘going out with men.’
‘It’s fine with me, if, of all the people who could show your sister round this town, you chose a borla man. Doesn’t that indicate the kind of person you are?’
‘First of all, Martin, I’ve spoken to him a few times, and he comes across as a decent guy, so I think it is rather unfortunate that you are writing him off when you don’t know him.’
By Ekow de Heer
Natives of the Kenkey Kingdom were mad with joy. They were still recovering from the hangover of the kingdom’s loss of the African Cup when their spirits were rekindled. Their great warrior, Zoom Zoom, stormed Melbourne and made sure that every Australian refused food. And that was after he had drawn contour lines on the face of their idol, Jeff Fenech.
Not only did the terrible warrior transform Old Boy Jeff’s face into a contour map useful for geography lessons, but he also accomplished the feat of retaining the much-envied super-kenkeyweight title against all odds. The warrior had not been eating hot kenkey for nothing.
The Fight Against Fenech
When Jeff Fenech bit the dust in the eighth round, I was tempted to consider if Adanko Deka could not have faced him in any twelve-rounder, title or non-title bout. Adanko has improved tremendously, and soon he would be facing Pernell Whitaker.
Sincerely, I was pessimistic about Azumah’s man, who the last time took him through twelve grueling rounds of rough boxing. I expressed my fears to my colleague Christian Abbew, alias Gbonyo, who surprisingly had total confidence that the Australian brawler would fall, predictably in Round Five.
Gbonyo gave reasons for his contention, all of which I counteracted using the age factor. Fact is, I didn’t know that contrary to the laws of nature, Azumah was all the time growing younger.
When Fenech fell briefly in round one, I asked my brother whether it was the same Fenech that fought Azumah in Las Vegas. Sure, it was the same Fenech, all out to beat Azumah before his countrymen.
But the African Professor had no intention of making the Australian a hero. As he spun round the desperate Aussie, dancing and stinging out his jabs, it was not too long before I realized that the end was near.
The Eighth Round Showdown
Two minutes into the eighth round, the African ring-master proved to the whole world that he was a true son of Bukom. He himself was cornered, but like the tough nut he is, he managed to break free before overwhelming the panting Australian with several blows that made him crash headlong.
Moments after, the referee, expressing fatherly sympathy, stopped the fight to prevent an obituary. After the ordeal, Fenech’s fairly handsome face was full of newly constructed hills, valleys, ox-bow lakes—whatever. I noticed that his nose was very tired and had a miniature volcano sitting restlessly on it. Obviously, Jeff’s wife will have to nurse that nose back to its normal shape—but I’d advise her not to use iodine, otherwise her dear husband will wail like a banshee.
Reflections on Boxing
Because Mohammed Ali was the kind of boxer kids liked, many school-going kids often entertained the wish of becoming like him. I remember one day when I told my father I wanted to become a boxer, and he advised me to first complete my education to the highest level. Then, if I decided to become a boxer and was knocked out a couple of times, I’d fall back on my degrees and make a living.
Boxing used to be interesting when bouts were fought more with the mouth and tongue than with gloves. You had to brag well, psychologically belittling your opponent before beating him up physically. Mohammed Ali became a very successful pugilist because he also managed to become a poet. He often blew his horn across America, calling himself the “pretty boxer” and opponents like Joe Frazier “the gorilla.”
Ali made a living fighting hard fists like Joe Frazier, Ken Norton, Jerry Quarry, George Foreman, Leon Spinks, and Trevor Berbick. Twice he came back from retirement to fight just for money. It was Larry Holmes who finally pensioned him, and since then the great Ali has never been himself.
The Path Ahead for Azumah
When Azumah nailed Jeff Fenech on the cross and barked almost immediately that he was after the head of Pernell Whitaker, I was happy but concerned. I would have been happier if he had announced his resignation there and then—he would have been more of a hero. Beating Fenech in Australia is more newsworthy than facing Whitaker in the States.
With Whitaker, it might be a little difficult. The “Sweet Pea” is agile, has a crooked body like a snake with diarrhea, and stands awkwardly as a southpaw. He is known for having the fastest pair of fists and the rare ability to dodge punches no matter how close they may be.
Much as I do not doubt that Azumah can take his title, I also don’t want him to retire beaten. I want him to retire as a hero and live a fuller, healthy life.
As Azumah himself said after dishing Fenech, he is now a professor and has something to show for it. Like a true professor, I think it is time he resigned and took up training young talents who could draw inspiration from him and become like him in the future.
Closing Thoughts
I must say that although ageing boxers like Larry Holmes and George Foreman are making a name for themselves, boxing is not like the Civil Service, where you can even change your age and retire at 74. Zoom Zoom has delighted the hearts of the natives, and Sikaman will forever hold him in high esteem—but only when he retires as a hero.
This article was first published on Saturday, March 7, 1992.
Almost everybody has heard of the siren of an ambulance at least once in his or her lifetime. What they may have not experienced, is the anguish of the patient if he or she is conscious or the apprehension of the close relation accompanying the patient, as to whether the patient will survive or not.
It is in such circumstances that the issue of traffic congestion in our cities is really felt; when you want to travel as quickly as possible to the hospital but the heavy traffic makes it impossible. The frustration alone can cause your blood pressure to hit the roof.
There are certain emergency medical conditions that require immediate professional medical attention or within the shortest possible time; otherwise, the likelihood of the victim or patient joining the group of departed souls is guaranteed. Countless incidents of dead on arrival are recorded at our various well known hospitals; not because of lack of professionals but simply due to the fact that there was delay in getting the victim to the hospital.
The attitude of some of our medical professionals is of serious concern and must be addressed as quickly as possible. They should be oriented such that they put their individual personal challenges aside and focus on the delivery of the service for which they are trained.
They get used to people dying on a daily basis so with time they get used to it and it somehow affects their perspective on how they should approach service delivery. When someone close to you dies, it gives you a different perspective on what death really looks like.
The recent needless death of a young man has resulted in the Health Minister directing the setting up of a commission to investigate the circumstances surrounding his death. Apparently, the deceased was the brother of two sisters who were medical officers and the comments by one of them really hit me. Here is a sister who reports indicate that she is very dedicated to her job as a medical officer, only for his own brother to be treated in a manner that resulted in his untimely death.
Pavements being taken over by traders
Another concern that requires urgent attention is pavements being taken over by traders. Some months ago, I nearly hit a pedestrian with my vehicle along one of the roads in one of the suburbs of Accra. The streetlights were not functioning so that stretch was dark, and I did not see him until my vehicle passed very close to him and he screamed as he jumped aside.
Along that stretch, where pavements ought to be have been taken over by shop owners who have extended structures from the structure of their shops, so that pedestrians have no option but to walk along the edges of the roads and streets, competing with vehicles for space only meant for vehicles.
This situation is widespread and it denies people from doing jogging and brisk walking to improve their health for fear of being hurt by vehicles.
Call for urgent action
Urgent and concrete steps must be taken to address the challenges in the health sector, especially the issue of the attitude of health care providers in our hospitals. A deliberate effort at re-orientation must be embarked upon immediately to transform the negative perception that people have of health professionals, especially nurses. My personal experience many years ago when my wife went to deliver my firstborn, is still fresh in my mind.
The various Metropolitan, Municipal and District Chief Executives (MMDCEs) across the country, especially in the peripheral municipalities in the Greater Accra region, should intensify efforts to address the issue of pavements being taken over by traders and shop owners that puts the lives of pedestrians at risk.
God bless.
BY LAUD KISSI-MENSAH
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