Features
Disqualified – Part 3
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After church on Sunday, Afrakoma said a quiet prayer, asking for divine help in getting Beesiwa to agree to her suggestion. She and Beesiwa were mates in senior high school, and they both studied for the Diploma in Business Studies at Koforidua Polytechnic, and they obtained jobs with Madam Bruwaa, a big distributor of provisions and textiles, where they were offered modest salaries.
They both got jobs at the National Bank, but just when they started, the parents of a young man based in the US, Sam Abrokwa, approached Beesiwa’s parents to ask for her hand in marriage.
Although the parents knew each other and Beesiwa remembered Sam as her senior in basic school, she told her parents that she would only agree to marry him after getting to know him.
The two parents tried, but she flatly refused to marry a guy she had never met. Eventually, it was agreed that she would meet him when he came to Ghana for a brief visit, but she insisted that she would only go and join him some time after they had met.
So they spoke on phone regularly, with Sam always expressing the desire to see her in the shortest possible time. Beesiwa, on the other hand, was polite and friendly, but reserved.
She quietly hoped that in due course, she would experience what would enable her to see her husband in him.
So it happened after some four months. Sam called to say that he had arrived in Koforidua, and would be calling on her in the afternoon. Beesiwa and her parents prepared a sumptuous meal for him, but he got to the house around 10pm, accompanied by two friends, obviously drunk. He apologized for his lateness, and after some 10 minutes asked Beesiwa to come with him to his house. Beesiwa said politely but firmly that she could not join him, and pleaded that they make it the following day.
He was very irritated by that answer, but he eventually accepted to come back the following day. As she lay in bed, Beesiwa wondered whether there was any hope for a future with Sam. Which normal person, she said to herself, goes to meet his wife and in-laws for the first time drunk? Perhaps tomorrow would be different.
Sam returned after 8pm the following day, a little sober but still drunk. He turned down the offer of a meal, and Beesiwa followed him to his home. A few minutes after offering her a seat, he turned on her, and started undressing her. Beesiwa started to object, but he flared up.
“Hey! You are not going to play games with me, after the monies I have spent on you. Your parents asked for money on several occasions, and I sent it. So how dare you refuse me sex?” Absolutely shocked, Beesiwa quietly gave in, and after less than 10 minutes Sam turned on his side and, with a big smile on his face, fell asleep. Beesiwa managed to dress up, walk out of the house and call Afrakoma. Afrakoma turned up in a taxi and took her to her house, and she narrated her experience to her. “I can’t believe this. So your parents virtually sold you to him, and never told you?” “I don’t think I can face the two of them again. My own parents have given me the most violent experience of my life. I don’t want to see them again.” “Take a shower Beesiwa, and try to get some sleep. I will go and see them tomorrow morning.”
“Hello Afrakoma. How are you? Your friend went to her husband’s place yesterday. She may be back in a day or two.”
“Actually, Ma, I came to discuss that with you and Daddy. I don’t need to sit down. Ma, Afrakoma went to Sam’s house with him reluctantly, because like yesterday, he was drunk.
As soon as they stepped in his room, he started removing her dress. When Beesiwa started to object, he told her that he had paid money to her parents, so she could not reject him.
She was so shocked that she just stayed silent and he slept with her. Fortunately he fell asleep, so she called me, and I went with a taxi to take her home.
Forgive me Ma, but I think you and Daddy have treated Beesiwa, a beautiful virgin determined to have an honourable, marriage, in the most despicable fashion. I’m trying to be polite, but I don’t know what your financial need was, which enabled you to betray your own daughter this way.
For your information, I have sent a message to Sam that Beesiwa and I need to know how much money is owed to him, and my husband and I will support her to pay. Good morning.” As the two parents stood with their mouths open, she walked away.
Features
MPs, churches, bad dressing

GHANA’S Parliament is a peaceful one. The arguments on the floor of the House can be fierce, but the House doesn’t catch fire. Ghana’s democracy has passed the acid-test of constitutional pluralism, and her legislature is a model of democratic beauty others are learning from.
Sometimes it is edifying following proceedings in Parliament and you are likely to catch the voice of Honourable Alban Bagbin in full flight. He doesn’t talk much. His English vocabulary does the talking.
Last week, I heard another MP talking on bad dressing, and I must congratulate him on his brilliant exhibition of vocabulary, delivered in Westminster tradition.
Such explosive delivery titillates the floor of the House and brings joy to members and Mr Speaker.
In the parliament of some countries, there is no need for such niceties. The floor of the House is regarded as a battle ground. Others, including lady members, see it as a boxing ring, where the spoken word is often jettisoned and supplanted with punches and upper-cuts.
PART-TIME
So the average parliamentarian trains part-time as a boxer, in case boxing skills will be needed in the House to iron out knotty points.
The ladies’ pedicure and manicure are carefully designed to fulfil a dual purpose. One is to showcase trendiness and the other is to scratch the faces of opponents in the House whether they are ladies or gentlemen.
Sometimes, the Speaker has to keep shouting and banging for well over 15 minutes as a recalcitrant MP dashes across and grabs the tie of another MP, thus precipitating a free-for-all brawl. Some MPs return home with a half nose, a missing left ear and a double forehead.
None of the offending parties is sanctioned because brawling in parliament is seen as a democratic process, since some MPs are so stubborn that only a sidekick to the ribs can mellow them. Meanwhile, a free-for-all is good exercise for the MPs, some of whom have grown too fat due to over-feeding.
Fortunately, the parliament of Sikaman has a civil democratic culture and debates get fierce but punches are not unleashed. For comic relief however, MPs do some break dancing once in a while.
When ROPAB was passed into law, some MPs caused a stir by bursting into song and dance. Mr. Speaker was be wildered, but obviously pleased that his announcement of the passage of the bill had brought joy to the House.
Others were not happy, though. The bill and the debates had caused them enough distress. As for the passage, it was like cutting their throats. They groaned in their hearts. No punches, no karate. That is democracy in its maturing stage. It is tempered with reason and civility. One day, it will be their turn to laugh and dance.
Now, the MP who spoke on bad dressing did a good job by all standards and added value to his delivery by going highfalutin. He wanted a law to be enacted against bad dressing, because it was not good for society.
What constitutes bad dressing? That is a very difficult question. Judging what is good or bad as far as dressing is concerned will obviously depend on the setting or context.
For example, going virtually naked on a holiday beach is considered good dressing. But when a man and his wife storm a church room in their birth-time suits (naked) the pastor and his deacons will surely take cover. It means a sartorial revolution has precipitated and only the Holy Spirit can hold tempers at bay.
STYLISH
In the streets of Sikaman, a lady with a very short skirt is admired by some as trendy and stylish. Others would think she is indecent and a bad influence. But the question that arises ultimately is this: Don’t people have the right to wear what they want to wear, so long as the unseemly parts of their bodies are not laid bare?
Certainly, nobody will go totally naked in the streets, unless the person is either in-sane or is a Black Stars supporter painted in the national colours. Even then, he’d be in what is called ‘pioto,’ with his ‘instrument’ well-positioned. That is called proper dressing.
So in the streets, this kind of dressing will be considered good or bad depending on the setting and the extent of exposure of the private parts (breasts, thighs, lower back, buttocks, etc).
Personally, I feel the churches should be very scrupulous about the dressing of those who go in to worship. The ushers should be tasked with ushering away badly-dressed worshippers. Incidentally, they are the worshippers who like the front pews, and the pastor is so distracted he can’t preach any meaningful sermon.
However, a law on dressing is something I won’t advocate, for the simple reason that, first, there is no clear definition of what is bad dressing and second, society must be left to evolve its own dress culture so that fashion and creativity in fashion design will not be stifle Any law to regulate dressing will kill such creativity.
This article was first published on Saturday July, 2006
Features
The body under siege: how long-term stress wears you down
Most people think stress is just in your head. When you feel overwhelmed, overworked, or emotionally drained, you might think you just need a good night’s sleep or a quick mental break.
However, science and biology show us something entirely different. Chronic, long-term stress is not just an emotion—it is a full-body physical condition. When you live in a constant state of survival mode, pushing past your limits without real rest, your body pays a very heavy physical price.
Here is a clear, step-by-step look at how ongoing stress physically breaks down the human body, explained simply.
Step 1: The endless flood of stress chemicals
What happens normally: When you face a sudden emergency, your body releases stress hormones like adrenaline and cortisol. They give you a quick burst of energy, speed up your heart, and help you react fast. This is a great survival tool for short bursts.
How stress breaks you down: If you never truly relax, your body never turns off that alarm. Your bloodstream stays flooded with cortisol and adrenaline day after day. Over time, having these chemicals constantly sloshing around acts like a slow poison. It damages your blood vessels, raises your blood pressure, messes with your metabolism, and even wears down your DNA, making you age faster.
Step 2: The silent internal fire (Chronic Inflammation)
What happens normally: When your brain senses danger or stress, it assumes you might get hurt, so it tells your immune system to cause inflammation (swelling and heat) to fight off germs and heal injuries.
How stress breaks you down: When stress lasts for months or years, your immune system gets confused and leaves that “fire” burning permanently. Instead of healing an injury, this silent internal inflammation starts attacking your healthy cells, joints, and organs. Over time, it paves the way for serious health issues, heart trouble, and total body fatigue.
Step 3: Turning your muscles into armor (Fascial Hardening)
What happens normally: Your body is wrapped in a web of strong connective tissue called fascia that holds your muscles, bones, and organs together. When you face pressure or trauma, that tissue automatically tightens up to protect you like a suit of armor.
How stress breaks you down: If you stay tense for years, that tissue never softens back up. It freezes in place, creating tight, painful physical knots (often called emotional lesions). Blood and oxygen can’t flow easily through those locked-up areas, leaving you stiff, aching, and physically unable to truly let go of tension.
Step 4: Burning out your body’s engine (Nervous System Overdrive)
What happens normally: Your nervous system has two main gears:
The Gas Pedal (fight-or-flight mode for dealing with emergencies).
The Brake Pedal (rest-and-digest mode for healing and repairing your body).
How stress breaks you down: Chronic stress forces your foot down hard on the gas pedal 24/7. Your heart beats faster than it should, your digestion shuts down, and your body is denied the deep rest it needs to repair itself. Eventually, your heart and nervous system run completely out of fuel from sheer exhaustion.
Reclaiming your health and sovereignty
Chronic stress wears you down slowly by keeping your body chemically toxic, inflamed, and locked-up in physical armour, and running on empty.
By understanding that stress is a physical breakdown rather than just a bad mood, you can stop glorifying endless endurance. It allows you to recognise when your body is screaming for a reset, helping you shift away from burnout and back toward true physical calm, balance, and sovereignty.
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