Features
Eating ourselves to the grave
We eat to live, right? A good, balanced and healthy diet, we are told, keeps the doctor away. Food is the only natural and most effective medicine known to Man. The only adverse medical conditions that I know could cause death are bulimia and anorexia. I cook; and I love cooking. Being a vegetarian even makes it more imperative for me to be mindful of what I eat. As a result I frequent the market for my groceries.
What I see in the market these days gives me the creeps. I have taken my time to figure out how some of the foodstuffs we buy are treated, and my findings reveal an astonishing array of ignorance and downright evil intent from some of the traders in our markets.
Let me deal with the easy consumables. In order to maximise profits some traders resort to mixing groundnut paste with cassava powder, locally called kokonte. This gives a bigger volume to the paste and the customer is none the wiser. Assuming you were a diabetic who must avoid starch at all costs, what do you think this will do to your health? Avocado seed is chopped into little bits, dried, ground and mixed with powdered pepper. I am told avocado seed contains medicinal properties, but that cannot be the reason traders do this.
Palm oil is mixed with a toxic red dye to give it a more attractive red colour. Paradoxically, palm oil is one of the healthiest consumable vegetable oils in our parts. The others are groundnut oil, coconut oil, palm kernel oil and Shea butter oil. Similar colouring is done to salted lamb chunks (popularly called tolo-bifi) by the market women for whatever reasons known only to them. That I am a vegetarian does not mean I should not be concerned with what others consume. When my daughters were in the University, and because I had no right to impose my diet on them, I would go to the market to get condiments to prepare soups and stews for them.
Why do these traders do this? Is it because they are ignorant of the consequences of their actions or it is just a diabolic, evil intent to harm their clients/consumers? I once asked a woman who sold salted mutton chunks at the Kaneshie market in Accra if she ate the dyed meat at home. Her response was that because she sold it, it was like she had seen too much of it so it ceased to be a part of her diet.
I bought veal, mutton, crabs, salmon, tuna, tilapia and other smoked fish to cook for my children. Having been brought up near the coast, I knew good fish when I saw one. The only thing I excluded from the meals to my children was cow-hide (wele) because it has no nutritional value whatsoever. It was a delicacy for them though.
Let me take on the cooked food sellers briefly: Personally, I hardly eat from outside my home. However, occasionally I go for sinkafa-da-waakye (cooked rice and beans), but to save firewood, the women add too much of saltpeter (they call it kanwe) to soften the beans fast. Now, kenkey, another staple has joined the fray for saltpeter application, to the extent that kenkey has become so soft you can hardly leave it without refrigeration for a day without it going bad. Just a decade and a half ago I could leave kenkey on my dining table for a week,then heat it up for consumption. Kenkey cannot stay in the fridge for a week nowadays. It turns mouldy rather quickly.
Then is all manner of poisonous seasoning all over the place in the guise of spices. Potassium glutamate readily comes to mind. Some of these things add a false appetising aroma to the cooked food just to entice the consumer. Some of these come in the form of cubes, the favourite of lazy housewives. What has happened to the natural spices of garlic, onion/shallot, kpakposhitor, ginger, nutmeg and cloves blended together?
A health consultant tells me that excessive saltpeter consumption corrodes the mucus that lines the intestinal walls, thus slowing down movement of what we ingest down the digestive track. This, according to her, causes pain as the food rubs against the exposed walls of the intestine. Sadly, our health authorities are more interested in checking the health status of the food vendors not the quality of the food they sell to the public.
Do we blame the poor food vendor? Less than two decades ago Ghana flared Liquefied Petroleum Gas (LPG) into the atmosphere. Then some smart alec decided we could encourage our countrymen to stop cutting down trees for firewood so they could use the LPG for domestic use instead. The reason was to prevent deforestation. Ghanaians bought into the idea and started patronising the LPG, realising it was cheaper than firewood. As I write, LPG is beyond the reach of the ordinary Ghanaian. Petroleum products have become the cash-cow for tax revenue.
Now, back to the traders. In fact, they can be forgiven for some of the stuff they sell. A few years ago I used to buy tomatoes in bulk, spread them out on newsprint on the floor and use them as and when I needed them. Right now, ripe tomatoes cannot last three days in the fridge. Same goes for many vegetables. You cannot keep okra for more than a day; it will develop dark blotches on the skin. Same goes with green pepper, cauliflower and many of the green leafy vegetables.
We used to keep yams for weeks, but if you take a tuber of yam now you have to ensure you cook the whole tuber else it gets rotten the very next day. Even if the rest is refrigerated it must be cooked within 48 hours. Our agriculture scientists are not telling us what is going on. Is anything wrong with the soil? Does this phenomenon have to do with the agro-chemicals used by the farmers? Why is no one telling us anything?
I saw a video clip of lettuce being washed with detergent. I watched another where what looked like spinach is soaked in some chemical solution so it would look fresh to the consumer. Mango, avocado, orange and papaya are doused with chemicals to speed up their ripening.
I hear there is an Authority on food and drugs. Can someone please tell me what they do? I ask because methinks we are eating ourselves to the grave and no one seems to care about us. Let me also ask if we have standards for the food we eat or the stuff we purchase? Do we have those? We are constantly admonished to eat healthy, yet the things we buy to put together as a meal give us cause for worry. Is it any wonder cases of diabetes are on the rise? Liver and kidney ailments are on the increase. What do the people we put in charge of our very existence do with statistics from our health facilities? Until they wake up to the reality and save us, shall we continue to eat ourselves to the grave?
By Dr. Akofa K. Segbefia
akofa45@yahoo.com
Attention-Deficit or Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) is often mistaken for laziness or indiscipline. In consulting rooms across Accra and in reports from school teachers, the pattern repeats: children who are bright but forgetful, parents who feel helpless, teachers who see incompleteness.
Research is clear-Barkley (2015) and others describe ADHD as a difference in the brain’s regulation of alertness, impulse and working memory, not a lack of effort.
The family’s role begins with structure. Regular sleep, predictable meal and homework times, and a simple visual list (uniform → books → water → corridor) provide the external scaffolding of these children need. Praise what is completed—“You opened the book and wrote the first sentence”-instead of rebuking what is missing.
Schools can help by seating the child front-row and centre, giving short written plus verbal instructions, allowing brief movement breaks, using quiet nonverbal cues and, where possible, grading effort and method as well as neatness. These adjustments reduce conflict and raise submission rates without lowering standards.
Couples and caregivers should share roles: one grounds, one pivots, and both protect rest. Shame-“bad parenting, bad child”-needs replacing with fact: different wiring, needs scaffolding.
Outcomes improve not by promises of perfection but by daily routines, clear limits and warmed connection. One homework slot kept, one instruction chunked, one calm repair after blurting-these small wins shift the family climate and let the child be seen beyond the label.
Resource
• CPAC (award-winning Mental Health and Counselling Facility): 0559850604 / 0551428486
Source: REV. COUNSELLOR PRINCE OFFEI’s insights on special needs support, relationships, and mental health in Ghana. He is a leading mental health professional, lecturer, ADR Expert/Arbitrator, renowned author, and marriage counsellor at COUNSELLOR PRINCE & ASSOCIATES CONSULT (CPAC COUNSELLOR TRAINING INSTITUTE) – 0551428486 /0559850604.
WEBSITES:
https://princeoffei22.wixsite.com/author
https://princeoffei22.wixsite.com/website
After two weeks of hectic activity up north, I drove to the Tamale airport, parked the car at the Civil Aviation car park as usual, paid the usual parking fee and boarded the plane for Accra.
Over the last two weeks, I had shuffled between three sites where work was close to completion.
One was a seed warehouse, where farmers would come and pick up good quality maize, sorghum and other planting material.
The other was a health facility for new mothers, where they were given basic training on good nutrition and small scale business.
And the third was a set of big boreholes for three farming communities.
The projects usually ran on schedule, but a good deal of time was spent building rapport with the local people, to ensure that they would be well patronised and maintained.
It was great to be working in a situation where one’s work was well appreciated. But it certainly involved a lot of work, and proactivity. And I made sure that I recorded updates online before going to bed in the evening.
When the plane took off, my mind shifted to issues in Accra, the big city. The young guys at my office had done some good work. They had secured five or six houses on a row in a good part of the city, and were close to securing the last.
When we got this property, unusually, Abena greeted them casually, and appeared to be comfortable in the guy’s company.
I was quite disappointed to hear that, because until the last few weeks, it seemed as if Abena and I were heading in a good direction. Apart from the affection I had for her, I liked her family. I decided to take it easy, and allow things to fall in whatever direction.
Normally I would take a taxi to her house from the airport, and pick her up to my place. This time I went to my sisters’ joint, where they sat by me while I enjoyed a drink and a good meal.
“So Little Brother,” Sister Beesiwa said, “what is it we are hearing about our wife-to-be?”
“When did you conclude that she was your wife-to-be? And what have you heard? I’ve only heard a couple of whispers. Ebo and Nana Kwame called to say that they have seen her in the company of—”
“Well said Little Brother,” Sister Baaba said. “By the way, Nana Kwame called an hour ago to ask if you had arrived because he could not reach you. Someone had told him that Jennifer had boasted to someone that she had connected Abena to a wealthy guy who would take care of her.”
I was beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. So I think Jennifer fed her with false stories about me in order to get her to move to the Ampadu guy. Jennifer must have been well compensated for her efforts.
“In that case,” Sister Beesiwa said, “you should be glad that Abena is out of your way. She is easily swayed. Anyone who would make a relationship decision based on a friend’s instigation lacks good sense. I hope the guy is as wealthy as they say?”
“Who gets wealthy running a supermarket chain in Ghana?” Sister Baaba said. “Our supermarkets sell mostly imported products. Look at the foreign exchange rate. And remember that Ghanaians buy second-hand shoes and clothes. Supermarkets are not good business here. Perhaps they are showing off that they are wealthy, but in reality they are not doing so well.”
“Amen to that,” I said. “I’m beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. So I think Jennifer fed her with false stories about me in order to get her to move to the Ampadu guy. Jennifer must have been well compensated for her efforts.”
She said that David Forson was only an agricultural extension worker in the north who did not have the resources to take care of a beautiful girl like her. And apart from being wealthy, the guy comes from an influential family, so Abena had done much better leaving a miserable civil servant like you for him.
“Amen to that,” I said. “I’m beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. We would be able to sell all five houses to one big corporate customer, and we had already spoken to a property dealer who was trying to find a buyer in order to get a good commission.
That was going to be my biggest break. I had asked the boys to look for a large tract of land on the outskirts of the city where we could develop our own set of buildings, blocks of storey houses and upscale apartments. Things were going according to plan, and I was quietly excited. However, things were not going so well regarding my relationship with Abena.
My buddies Ebo and Nana Kwame had called to say that they met Abena and her friend Jennifer enjoying lunch with a guy, and Ebo believed that Jennifer was ‘promoting’ an affair between Jennifer and the guy. They were of the view that the promotion seemed to be going in the guy’s favour, because only an agricultural extension worker in the north who did not have the resources to take care of a beautiful girl like her.
And apart from being wealthy, the guy comes from an influential family, so Abena had done much better leaving a miserable civil servant like you for him.
“As I’ve already said, I will stop by her place, but I will mind my own business from now. Hey, let’s talk family. How are our parents? And my brothers-in-law? And my nephews and nieces? Why don’t we meet on Sunday? I’m going to drop my bags at my place, and go to see Mama and Dad.”
