Features
Criminals and gullible natives
A criminal is a criminal whether or he has thick lips. As such, I strongly disagree with the French psychologist, Lombroso, whose idea of a criminal is a person with hard features and thick lips. If Lombroso had conducted his research in Africa, he probably might have condemned Africans to be a criminal race, since broad noses and thick lips, among others, comprise the African’s visage.
In Sikaman for instance, we have dangerous criminals whose physiognomy has nothing to do with their criminality. We have criminal die-hards and recidivists who are handsome gentlemen and comely ladies. Women who dupe for instance are the most attractive, albeit with dark minds.
And one thing I have come to realise of late is that there has been a return to the use of wits and magic in place of violence by criminals, especially by thieves and burglars. Perhaps, the idea of firing squads does not particularly appeal to them.
Using wits and magıc has a long history in Sikaman. In 1974, certain crooks, allegedly from a neighbouring country, invaded Sikaman to make money. They greeted you, you responded and your genitals got lost if you were a man. If a woman, your breasts vanished in a twinkle of an eye.
In desperation and bewilderment, weeping and gnashing of teeth, you quickly had to agree to pay quite a sum of money to another man (an accomplice) who approached you offering help, and you got back your sexual accessories.
It was widely disseminated that the antidote to the magic was pepper or charcoal. You simply had to put one of these into your pockets wherever you were going and then you were safe. Those days you could see Sikaman natives laden with pepper in all pockets and some with loads of charcoal in their back pockets. Pepper and charcoal became essential commodities.
This criminal practice died down in Tema for instance, not because people were using pepper and charcoal, but because one of the so-called magicians met a rather tragic end. He was identified by his victim and promptly lynched through mob violence.
Sometime last year, the ‘Spectator’ carried a front page exclusive of a man with a tribal mark who does not cherish using violence to earn a living. The man, it was alleged, made lucrative business by dressing like a woman, with slit and kaba, and high-heeled stiletto shoes, complete with make-up and earrings. I wonder what really was attractive about this muscular gentleman, no matter the finesse with which he executed the make-up and the power with which he wriggled his buttocks when walking. Anyhow, he made a tidy sum duping unsuspecting men before being told enough was enough.
In a bid to burgle a business executive in a quiet residential area, a man uses a ladder to enable him get access to the top chamber at about 2a.m, unfortunately for the thief, the executive boss does not sleep with both ears. One ear is, therefore, alive like a 24-hour radio frequency. He hears the sound as the thief works his way upstairs via the ladder.
The man wakes up and descries a tall, bulky barrel chested human being, who could have passed for a gorilla, ascending a wooden ladder pitched against his window. He had never seen such a formidable figure.
However, as the thief nearly gets to the top, and with all his might pushes the man takes courage and with all his might pushes the ladder off his window. The criminal lands on his back with the ladder atop him, and barks like a dog although he is a perfect human being.
But he is also a professional. He quickly wakes up from the tragedy, wipes the sand off his face and hair, carries the ladder on his broad shoulders and trots dizzily away home to plan another strategy. After an alarm had been sounded for his arrest, he was nowhere to be found.
A boy of about 13 enters into a house and meets the children of a prosperous man whose wife is a businesswoman. The boy tells the children that he has been sent by their mother to carry the video set to a repairer. The children become sceptical, because the video set is in excellent condition.
Anyhow, the teenager convinces them that the repairer had to put something right somewhere. The children are too willing and allowed the smiling adolescent to carry away their beautiful set to improve the picture quality.
Their mother returns at dusk and denies ever sending a boy to the house. Up till this day neither the video set nor the boy has been found.
The latest episode was reported in the Ghanaian Times by Francis Gasu, some three weeks back.
A woman meets two girls at the Kwame Nkrumah Circle, Accra, on their way to buy exercise books at the premises of New Times Corporation. She advises the elder of the two to remove whatever money they were having in their ladies’ bag, to keep it safe by wrapping it in some pieces of paper. She asks them to put the money into a nylon sack -they were holding, and to hurry since according to her, thieves were following them.
The girls indeed hurry. But when they got to New Times and decided to take out the GH¢36,000 wrapped in the papers, the money is absent, the papers intact. So magically dangerous! They came weeping and became confounded at this magical gimmickry perpetuated by a seemingly innocent and helpful woman.
There are thieves and criminals of different grades making money by relying on the gullibility of the native. When a thief enters a court room, he is the most dangerous of his calibre. And when a thief wields a ladder, it is an indication that he knows his job.
A man in brown overall with a ladder firmly held onto his shoulder, begs his way through the capacity crowd present to witness a long-awaited trial. He is allowed into the courtroom and he bows to the judge who solemnly acknowledges the reverence.
He unloads his tall ladder and puts it against the wall as court proceedings were underway. He climbs the ladder and screws out the large beautiful wall clock that had stopped working some two weeks back. The man must be a repairer and his forehead looks like that of a very efficient watch repairer.
He descends the ladder with the clock, puts the ladder on his shoulder, bows again to the judge and is given way to pass. That has been the end of the beautiful clock and the efficient repairer who incidentally does not have thick lips.
These are all true stories which have occurred at one time or the other. They are the perfect substitutes for armed robbery. The thieves come in many forms and guises. They use brains and magic when the going becomes tough.
Be on your guard and save your property!
This article was first published on Saturday October 13, 1990.
A haircut I had about a week ago didn’t go down well with many. Someone quite close to my heart saw it, examined it critically and felt dizzy.
“What’s this?” she proceeded to ask me.
“An international hairdo,” I replied.
She was disgusted, in fact disappointed. The problem with the haircut is that the style is neither Punk, Tokyo Joe nor Show Your Back. If anything, it is a combination of all—and I liked it, for a change.
It was when I bounded downtown that someone called me and enquired whether I was no longer a journalist. He said I looked like a well-fed Warrant Officer.
“Class One or Class Two?” I asked.
Another studied my head as if he was studying physical geography and pronounced that I looked like a boxer who can throw dangerous punches. Still, someone was of the opinion that the haircut didn’t quite fit me, but admitted that I looked like a prosperous merchant.
Commendation
I remember some three months ago, I had a haircut that made two girls fall in love with me. In spite of the fact that the barber was not a graduate, the cut was such that they couldn’t help admiring it. One of them actually ‘checked out’ the style and commended the barber.
The other was more bent on the ‘love matter’ but I was too busy to give her any attention. LOVE!
I was reminded of this when I viewed a premier showing of the latest Sikaman film titled THE POWER OF LOVE. The film kept me thinking. Some of us have long forgotten about what it is like to be head-over-heels in love. When we were students, we had such experiences because there was nothing doing anyway.
We were either learning how stylishly to smoke ‘jot’ or how romantically to fall in love. Anyhow, I was intrigued by this latest movie because of the way love unlimited was portrayed on screen. It took my memory back many years to relive those youthful days when we felt we’d really die if jilted by our lovers.
The storyline of THE POWER OF LOVE is really an exciting one. The combination of love, treachery and intrigue made me feast my eyes intently on the screen, unbelieving the extent the force of love can reach.
Ama and Afua are good friends. But when it comes to matters of the heart, they have different tastes; Ama is content with only her boyfriend (a student) and Afua samples the bigwigs around town. Afua, not satisfied with the shots in town, wants Ama’s boyfriend Joe in addition. She lies to Joe that Ama has often been picked by a man on four-wheels, whereupon Joe dismisses Ama and takes on Afua.
Ama doesn’t realise that it is her best friend Afua who is destroying her relationship with Joe until she catches her having sex with him. She collapses and goes out of her mind from the broken heart. But before then, she had been made pregnant by Joe.
Having escaped from a psychiatric hospital, she roams town murmuring Joe’s name. Heavily pregnant now, she espies Joe boarding a mini bus and runs towards him. Joe, seeing her approaching, quickly disembarks and takes off.
Ama pursues him furiously, and he runs to his home where he finds his bosom friend Frank making love to Afua. He immediately realises the treachery of Afua who instigated him to leave Ama.
He intends leaving the home in disgust and meets mad Ama at the door and embraces her despite her madness. Instantly, she regains her sanity.
Love indeed heals the wounds of the mind and it is the greatest positive force in the world. Incidentally, the greatest negative force is hatred.
Greatest force
Now coming to talk about love, I reiterate it is the greatest force imaginable. That is why a man will butcher his rival to death if he catches him climbing his wife without asking permission; and a woman will go mad if jilted.
It is also for this reason that a young boy who is scared stiff of cemeteries and under normal circumstances would not dare go near one, will this time walk boldly through a cemetery at midnight if that is the only way to his lover’s abode.
The Bible describes love for our neighbours as the surest way to heaven: Love thy neighbour as thyself.
Unfortunately, what Ghanaians are more interested and skilful in is loving the opposite sex. Romance under the cover of darkness is what we understand love to be all about. When it comes to loving our fellow human beings, we are found wanting.
People hate others just because they are of another tribe and do not speak the same native language. Too much grudge-bearing that does not augur well for national development.
War in Liberia, carnage in Rwanda are the results of the absence of love for one’s fellow being. If everybody could express a little bit of love for his fellow being irrespective of tribe, race, politics or religion, Sikaman—and indeed, the world—will be a more habitable place.
This article was first published on Saturday, October 29, 1994
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“Sir,” Ms. Odame said when David Asante answered the call, “my name is Victoria Odame. I’m a teacher at Research School in Koforidua. I would like to come and see you concerning a student called Sarah.”
“Okay, madam. I would be very glad to meet you. How can I make your trip easier?”
“I was going to join a bus to Accra.”
“Here’s what we will do. Take a taxi and ask them to bring you to Accra. I will speak to the driver, give him the directions, and pay him when you get here.”
The taxi stopped in front of the house. The gate opened, and the driver moved to the long driveway and stopped.
“What a beautiful house,” he said.
David and Adoma came out to meet them. Adoma paid the driver as David and Sarah stared at each other.
“Please come in and sit down,” Adoma invited. She served them water.
“You are welcome,” Adoma continued. “We have been waiting anxiously since you called this morning. So please, let’s hear you.”
Before she could open her mouth, Sarah rose, moved to David, hugged him, and sat on his lap. They both broke into tears. Adoma and Ms. Odame also broke into tears.
“Sorry, madam,” David said. “This whole episode has been a very difficult one. But let’s do the proper thing. Let’s hear you first, and I will also speak. I’m sure we need to answer some questions immediately.”
“Okay, sir. I have been taking an interest in Sarah because, although she’s brilliant academically, she seemed to be troubled. Following my discussions with her and some whispers I had been hearing, I went to Aboso Senior High School and spoke to your former colleague, Mr. Hanson. He told me that you were an exemplary teacher who was loved by all, and he also told me about the unfortunate events that caused you to leave for Germany. So I returned to Koforidua with the view to finding the appropriate means of helping to solve this problem.”
“Great. Ms. Odame, I have to thank you for finally helping us to solve this problem. Now, let me state the facts. This is what happened.
“Gladys and I met and got married whilst we were both teachers in the school. Some months into our marriage, she told me that she needed to spend some days with her parents, and I agreed.
“It turned out that she was actually spending time in a hotel with her ex-boyfriend, Simon. This happened again after Sarah was born. I got wind of this and told her that I was no longer interested in the marriage.
“I started preparing to travel to Germany. She pleaded for forgiveness, but I stood my ground. Then she told me that she would punish me for rejecting her.
“She came out later to say that Sarah was not my child, but Simon’s. She went and hid her somewhere, obviously expecting that I would fight to take my child. I was actually going to do that, but my parents advised me that it was almost impossible to win such a fight.
“They advised that, difficult as it sounded, I should leave the child with her because she would come back to me eventually. I have absolutely no problem taking care of you, Sarah. I am taking care of quite a number of kids who are not mine. So that is what happened. My hands were tied. I have been trying to find out how you are doing.
“I kept hearing that you were doing well at school. I also heard that Gladys and her husband were having problems, but I kept hoping that my daughter would at least be okay till it was possible for me to go for her.”
“Sarah, now you have met your dad. You will be free to—”
“I’m not going anywhere!” she declared as she held on to him.
“You don’t have to worry about that, Sarah,” Adoma said. “We have been looking forward to the day you come home. This is your home. Now, you have to meet your siblings.” She called Abrefi and Adaawa.
“Girls, we told you that you have a sister who would join us anytime. Now here she is.”
“Sarah?” Abrefi asked.
“Yes,” Adoma replied. The girls hugged her and took her away.
“Now,” David said, “I think it is time to call Madam Gladys.” He dialed the number.
“My name is David Asante. I’m here in my house with my daughter Sarah. I hear you have told her all sorts of crazy stories about me. I could make life very difficult for you, but I won’t.
“You are your own worst enemy. I don’t think you should be expecting her anytime soon. What do you say?”
Gladys stayed silent for over a minute, then cut the line.
“Food is ready,” Adoma announced. “Everybody, please come to the table.”
Sarah chatted excitedly with her siblings as Adoma and David spoke with Ms. Odame. She kept staring at her father.
“Now, Ms. Odame, after you have brought such joy into our home, should we allow you to go back to Koforidua today, or should we wait till we are ready to release you? I could call your husband and ask permission.
“And please don’t tell me you didn’t bring anything for an overnight stay. There are several supermarkets around here. We can fix that problem quickly.”
“I will beg you to release me. Now that I have been so warmly welcomed here, I already feel part of this home. Koforidua is not that far away, so I will visit often.”
“Well, let’s see what the kids have to say. Ladies, shall I release Ms. Odame to go back to Koforidua?”
“No!” they shouted, and all broke into laughter.
“Ms. Odame, I will have mercy on you. But we are going to do something to make it easy for you to visit us. My wife wants to show you something. Please follow her.”
Adoma led her to the driveway as the others followed. They stopped in front of the car.
“This is a Toyota Corolla 1600. It is very reliable and good on petrol consumption. We are giving this to you in appreciation of your help in getting our daughter back to us.
“And here in this envelope is a little contribution to help you with maintenance. And here in this other envelope is a gift to help with your children’s school fees.”
As she stood, stunned, and stared from the car to the envelopes, David put his hand around his family.
“Let’s leave her to take a look at her car. Ms. Odame, one of my drivers will drive you to Koforidua and leave your car with you. We are waiting inside.”
By Ekow de Heer
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