Features
Borla man —Part Two
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‘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 cafe 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 cafe 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’.
‘Okay Paul. See you then’. What a lovely day, I said to myself as I opened the front door. I closed the shop and 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 club house 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 to you when I realised that 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 will 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 will 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, I want to inform you that I will inform my parents, and your parents, about the situation in this house. As I said yesterday, things are getting out of hand. You spend most of your time drinking. You get drunk every evening, and through the weekend. And you are also spending your time and money on a prostitute’.
‘How dare you? One more stupid word from you …’
‘Am I lying, Martin? You have just started life, yet you are behaving like a rich, elderly man who has already seen his children through university, and can afford a life of fun. As I said, I’m going to inform our parents. Maybe your parents can straighten you out before it is too late’.
‘Look, we can talk this evening. It’s nothing like what you are saying’. He walked away, shocked.
That evening, I was expecting to have a meaningful discussion with him, but his mother called early in the evening to offer me some ‘advice’. Her son had called to say that certain developments at home were disturbing him so much that they were beginning to affect his work.
And, ‘as a loving mother to her daughter’, she was advising me to submit to my husband, and support him in prayer, and not ‘drive him from home’. Men would always be men, and she was telling me ‘from experience’ that no matter how much time Martin stayed away from home, he would always come home to me.
She had been a young wife before, so she understood the challenges I was facing. So I could be assured that if I followed her advice, all would be well. And, of course, she didn’t allow me to tell my side of the story.
Martin came home very late, and very drunk. And from the next morning, he carried on as before. With some hesitation, I called my dad and told him all that had gone on.
‘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 Elaine informed Mom and Dad. We endorsed Dad’s decision to take action if there was no change in 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’, he said, ‘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
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Features
The eye is indeed the lamp of the body
There is a scripture that is found in Matthew 6:22 which says that the lamp of the body is the eye and therefore the eye must see well to enable the body to get to its destination.
What most people do not know is that behind the scenes, there is a strong interaction between the eyes and the brain before a picture becomes clear. The state of mind therefore is crucial to the eye seeing clearly to enable the body to process accurately the information the eyes are feeding it for proper identification of what the eyes see.
This is similar to how a person behaves i.e. what informs the decisions that forms in the mind that results in the actions that a person performs. The actions of a person does not therefore just happen but is as a result of things that went on in the mind, which in most cases resulted from information passed on to it by the eyes either consciously or unconsciously.
There are so many issues that affect our society which makes one wonder, whether the people who displayed such acts were created by someone or something other than God.
How can a person see a beach created by God with beautiful beaches and fresh air blowing all around, decides to defecate at such places, and therefore desecrate the environment? lt is simply mind boggling?
When other people in other countries who dwell on the coast are using their beaches for tourist attraction purposes as a means of livelihood and also to promote environmental health, some people living around our beaches, have turned them into rubbish dumping sites and toilets.
It is a very sad situation and the earlier we did something about it the better. It is a national emergency that must engage the attention, first of the government and then the citizenry, where religious bodies and NGOs must play a critical role.
The things we focus on in this country, needs to be addressed. Our minds which processes the info the eyes send to the brain, must be disciplined. There are certain behaviours that a disciplined mind can ignore even when the eye has provided info to the brain. One of the things a disciplined mind does, is the avoidance of a second look, which is critical for every person who wants to avoid adultery or fornication.
Once a person is not blind, he will see things. The boobs, the ‘shankus’, the coca cola shapes, the light complexioned, the dark complexioned etc. the eyes will definitely see and report same to the brain. What the brain or the mind decides to do or instructs the eye to do is the issue.
It can decide to instruct the eye to take a second look and let the mind drool over it or say ignore it and that will be the end.
If the mind becomes trained to focus on environmental issues like clean environment, the eyes will automatically be reporting on insanitary conditions to the brain as and when it sees them. The mind will pay attention to such data and begin to process them and to identify solutions to deal with the reported insanitary conditions.
There is the need to encourage citizens to train the mind to focus on the right thing so that in tandem with the eyes, focus will be maintained. When the mind is so trained, it communicates with the eye to also focus on hood things that helps in both are spiritual life and our secular lives, for indeed the eyes are the lamp of the body. God bless.
Features
Arming the Sikaman journalists to the teeth

THE relationship between New Times Corporation (NTC) and African Concrete Productions (ACP) is based entirely on matters of the stomach. Each depends on the other in a dietary symbiosis, reinforced by the close proximity of each other
At lunchtime, you’d see a particular set of Times workers marching regimentally to ACP to face the wall. You’d think they are soldiers. It has long been declared that the company manufactures the best kokonte in the Greater Accra Region. ACP is, therefore, a culinary haven for those NTC kokonte fans, both male and female.
As the NTC kokonte warriors cross the border to ACP, you’d see some ACP banku fanatics dancing joyously to NTC. They are lucky folks because they do not have to obtain visa to enter into ‘Times’ to attack the balls of banku with precision and accuracy. They also claim that the lightsoup at ‘Times’ is arguably the best in West Africa.
So the relationship between the two entities was quite cordial and based practically on stomach palaver, until ACP workers staged an industrial revolution, whereupon the managing director, accountant and estate manager were allegedly stripped naked and locked up in a room. An insurgency had began in earnest.
An ACP worker came to ‘Times’, this time not to eat banku and okro. He had come to inform newsmen that juicy stuff awaited them at ACP. It could make a front page lead story.
A camerawoman and a female reporter were accordingly dispatched to go and bring back news, juicy news as juicy as kokonte and groundnut soup.
I was driving to work when I espied the familiar camerawoman clicking away outside the ACP premises. I didn’t see any ‘Times’ reporter but angry workers who were on the verge of getting violent. I slowed down and the driver behind blew his horn at me like a lunatic. I drove on.
Later, I heard the reporter and camerawoman were harassed and brutalised. The report came,. “The camerawoman, Mrs Salome Adonu-Agbottah and reporter Mrs Doreen Allotey, in an attempt to retrieve the camera which the workers had seized from them were severely beaten. They were manhandled and almost pushed into a big gutter opposite the company’s premises.
BRUISES
“….The camerawoman had bruises on her body, her hand bag was destroyed and the money in it stolen. Mrs Allotey’s watch was also snatched and her feet stamped on.”
Luckily, it was not her nose that was trampled upon. She has a beautiful nose.
The bad news was received with extreme sorrow. If the victims had been men, it would not have seemed too bad. But to brutalise women is just unacceptable. The New Times Corporation has not stopped mourning the incident which has been condemned in many circles.
Some people keep asking me why Times sent females to cover a potentially violent demonstration. I tell them they might as well ask why CNN’s amazon, Christina Amanpour, is assigned to cover the carnage in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Rwanda. She is always on the frontline in jeans and jacket.
Journalism is a potentially hazardous profession, and once you accept to study and practise the trade, you might as well bone up to face any assignment as long as your superiors feel you are capable of handling it or you have demonstrated the capacity to handle it. Both males and females can be assigned anywhere, anytime just like policemen and women are assigned.
The only difference between cops and pressmen is that the latter are armed only with a pen and the former with a gun. The question is should newsmen also arm themselves so that in any event of an assault they would not be found wanting in self-defence? They can’t adequately defend themselves with a pen and a jotter. A pen cannot even disfigure an opponent’s upper lip.
Photo-journalists have particularly suffered violence. Spectator ace-cameraman Vincent Dzatse was severely assaulted by AMA men when he attempted to take pictures of their indiscretions.
Sports cameraman, P. K. Arthur has been beaten more than once at the sports stadium when riots errupted and he wanted to capture it on his lenses.
Some sports journalists have been banned from entering the Accra Sports Stadium by supporters because in their comments, they didn’t write “sense”. Some supporters once nearly lynched Christian Abbew, Spectator Sports Editor, near a courtroom. He was stoned like the biblical Stephen. He had gone to defend a contempt charge.
I think it is time journalists met and discussed how best to defend themselves in any event of an attack by individuals or mobs. In the pursuance of their duty, they must be free from harassment and assault.
Some journalists go to work and return home with a black-eye or a double fore-head. It is just not right. Something has to be done about it. I think journalists should be armed. But first we must be trained in the use of firearms so that our warning shot do not hit below the belt. What about training in Kung Fu?
This article was first published on Saturday, October 17, 1998.




