Features
Farmers, fund and the mafia
The notion some people have about the Sikaman farmer can be amusing. It is the belief of some that immediately a struggling farmer manages to grab a loan, the first thing he does is to invite his abusua (kith and kin) home and abroad.
He organises a mini-festival using palm wine mixed with Guinness as the first course. There and then he announces that he is no longer a poor man; in effect he has ceased to be the close buddy of Mr John Poverty.
The ceremony will be consummated with singing and breakdance, a brief church service, drama and poetry recitals.
At least three bearded goats complete with moustache and four cockerels would be sacrificed in various recipes to celebrate the farmer’s broken alliance with poverty. Some would end up as fufu and light soup, grilled chicken, toasted mutton and smiling goat-head pepper soup. In short, the loan was well taken and well utilised.
The farmer’s prosperity begins right from the stomach. His idea is that if you don’t prosper in the stomach, there is no way you can prosper outside it.
Some farmer are ‘wiser’ though. When they get the loan, they promptly look for new wives. They can no longer continue enjoying one soup everyday like that. Variety is the spice of life! A new wife would bring new zest, new hope and heavenly glary into the farmer’s life. Most importantly the new wife would bring more action into his waist.
So the loan goes indirectly into promoting physical exercise for the human waist instead of the expansion of the farm, purchase of new equipment and improved seeds. Farmers of this nature are jokers, not farmers.
Is it probably because of these whimsical reasons that the banks are reluctant to grant loans to farmers? Obviously with the celebration of mini festivals and the installation of new wives, it is unlikely bank loans can ever be repaid. Of course, farmers who are more concerned about their libido can only be experts in re-scheduling loan payments and not in paying back loans.
Banks are very much concerned about getting their monies back with interest whenever they give out loans. So they demand collateral security as a requirement for the granting of loans. Some farmers actually don’t have anything they can put up as collateral except their hoes, cutlasses and wives. So they struggle through life, not going and not coming.
I do not blame the banks for not granting loans to those who cannot put up collateral. But what about those who are very serious farmers and can put up collateral. Should they also be denied?
Farming is seasonal and a farmer may need a loan only within a certain period to grow crops or breed birds. When the period elapses before the loans are granted, farmers are tempted to misapply the money because it lies idle. In fact, with idle money lying around, the farmer may be tempted to ‘purchase’ a new wife.
It goes without saying that farmers need money but for specific periods when the banks apparently do not take into consideration. Within three months in a year (main cropping season), a crop farmer must plant, nurture, harvest and sell. He applies for a loan and takes nine months or is not even granted. Meanwhile the money lies under his bed waiting to be enjoyed. Not all farmers are angels.
Now, If the government has seen and acknowledged the importance of farmers in national development and has instituted a Farmers’ Day which is a public holiday during which farmers are awarded, then government might as well also do something about funding for our serious farmers, at least the award winning ones to expand and grow since bank loans are not readily available.
Lama of Site 21, Tema, a man of great learning and of vision, has just been telling me that when a farmer gets an award, it means he knows his way about his job, is serious and diligent. According to him, most likely that such a person would also be investment-conscious and judicious in the use of his resources, and not interested in enstooling a new wife.
If government can set up a fund to assist, not with cash but by way of inputs, most of our farmers who have not had any assistance to propel themselves above sea level would be most thankful.
Interview a few award-winning farmers and they would tell you their palaver. The Overall Tema Municipal Farmer Mr Ellis Aferi and his wife Mrs Rosemary Aferi, began their Soka Farms Complex with ten fowls. The pig (a sow), was sent to a farm on a cart to be serviced and brought back breeding.
His piggery is now a real model of inspiration. “We started right from the scratch without any bank loan or financial assistance from any quarter. We placed our trust in labour, hard work and the advice of extension officers. Today we have a large piggery, poultry breeding house, mushroom and snail quarters, fishpond and beehives aside the rabbits we breed. All these without a penny from anywhere,” Mr Aferi told me just last week.
However, he bemoaned the current situation farmers are facing “We have exploited our creativity, our imagination and our muscles. There is a limit to productivity using only human labour and ingenuity. We now want to grow bigger but without funding there is little we can achieve in our bid to grow and develop.”
Mr Aferi like, his colleagues, uses about one ton of wheat bran to prepare feed for his birds, pigs, snails and fishes every week. When Food Complex was in operation, they had their wheat bran without problem. Today, there are mafia connections in the wheat bran trade.
According to all the livestock farmers I’ve spoken to, it is hard to get wheat bran from GAFCO or Irani Brothers directly. They allege that the companies prefer to sell to some wealthy women and top business-men who can buy wheat bran on conditional basis (that is together with flour and other products of the companies), than to farmers.
Then these women and businessmen through their agents resell the bran to the poor farmers at cut-throat prices. I don’t think the system is being fair to farmers. It is indeed a tragedy for the farmers who through their sweat and blood the nation is fed.
“We protest heart and soul,” one farmer yelled at me as if I was responsible for their plight. “How can I feed my birds and pigs satisfactorily if I cannot get wheat bran at the factory price? We disagree that because we are poor, things should be made difficult for us. The rich must not be allowed to exploit us like that.”
The proprietor of Soka Farms, Mr Aferi, for instance has risen from the discomfort of the dust and hardness of the earth to such an enviable height to be an award winner who now holds seminars for farmers, students and officials of organisations on his farm near the Ashiaman-Michel Camp barrier. He must be propped up, even if not with money with inputs on credit basis.
The government must think about setting up a special fund for such individual farmers to grow, while preventing them from cheats and those in the cloak of the mafia.
This article was first published on Saturday, September 21, 1996
Features
Tears of Ghanaman, home and abroad
The typical native of Sikaman is by nature a hospitable creature, a social animal with a big heart, a soul full of the milk of earthly goodness, and a spirit too loving for its own comfort.
Ghanaman hosts a foreign pal and he spends a fortune to make him very happy and comfortable-good food, clean booze, excellent accommodation and a woman for the night.
Sometimes the pal leaves without saying a “thank you but Ghanaman is not offended. He’d host another idiot even more splendidly. His nature is warm, his spirit benevolent. That is the typical Ghanaian and no wonder that many African-Americans say, “If you haven’t visited Ghana. Then you’ve not come to Africa.
You can even enter the country without a passport and a visa and you’ll be welcomed with a pot of palm wine.
If Ghanaman wants to go abroad, especially to an European country or the United States, it is often after an ordeal.
He has to doze in a queue at dawn at the embassy for days and if he is lucky to get through to being interviewed, he is confronted by someone who claims he or she has the power of discerning truth from lie.
In short Ghanaman must undergo a lie-detector test and has to answer questions that are either nonsensical or have no relevance to the trip at hand. When Joseph Kwame Korkorti wanted a visa to an European country, the attache studied Korkorti’s nose for a while and pronounced judgment.
“The way I see you, you won’t return to Ghana if I allow you to go. Korkorti nearly dislocated her jaw; Kwasiasem akwaakwa. In any case what had Korkorti’s nose got to do with the trip?
If Ghanaman, after several attempts, manages to get the visa and lands in the whiteman’s land, he is seen as another monkey uptown, a new arrival of a degenerate ape coming to invade civilized society. He is sneered at, mocked at and avoided like a plague. Some landlords abroad will not hire their rooms to blacks because they feel their presence in itself is bad business.
When a Sikaman publisher landed overseas and was riding in a public bus, an urchin who had the impudence and notoriety of a dead cockroach told his colleagues he was sure the black man had a tail which he was hiding in his pair of trousers. He didn’t end there. He said he was in fact going to pull out the tail for everyone to see.
True to his word he went and put his hand into the backside of the bewildered publisher, intent on grabbing his imaginary tail and pulling it out. It took a lot of patience on the part of the publisher to avert murder. He practically pinned the white miscreant on the floor by the neck and only let go when others intervene. Next time too…
The way we treat our foreign guests in comparison with the way they treat us is polar contrasting-two disparate extremes, one totally incomparable to the other. They hound us for immigration papers, deport us for overstaying and skinheads either target homes to perpetrate mayhem or attack black immigrants to gratify their racial madness
When these same people come here we accept them even more hospitably than our own kin. They enter without visas, overstay, impregnate our women and run away.
About half of foreigners in this country do not have valid resident permits and was not a bother until recently when fire was put under the buttocks of the Immigration Service
In fact, until recently I never knew Sikaman had an Immigration Service. The problem is that although their staff look resplendent in their green outfit, you never really see them anywhere. You’d think they are hidden from the public eye.
The first time I saw a group of them walking somewhere, I nearly mistook them for some sixth-form going to the library. Their ladies are pretty though.
So after all, Sikaman has an Immigration Service which I hear is now alert 24 hours a day tracking down illegal aliens and making sure they bound the exit via Kotoka International. A pat on their shoulder.
I am glad the Interior Ministry has also realised that the country has been too slack about who goes out or comes into Sikaman.
Now the Ministry has warned foreigners not to take the country’s commitment to its obligations under the various conditions as a sign of weakness or a source for the abuse of her hospitality.
“Ghana will not tolerate any such abuse,” Nii Okaija Adamafio, the Interior Minister said, baring his teeth and twitching his little moustache. He was inaugurating the Ghana Refugee and Immigration Service Boards.
He said some foreigners come in as tourists, investors, consultants, skilled workers or refugees. Others come as ‘charlatans, adventurers or plain criminals. “
Yes, there are many criminals among them. Our courts have tried a good number of them for fraud and misconduct.
It is time we welcome only those who would come and invest or tour and go back peacefully and not those whose criminal intentions are well-hidden but get exposed in due course of time.
This article was first published on Saturday March 14, 1998
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Features
Decisions have consequences
In this world, it is always important to recognise that every action or decision taken, has consequences.
It can result in something good or bad, depending on the quality of the decision, that is, the factors that were taken into account in the decision making.
The problem with a bad decision is that, in some instances, there is no opportunity to correct the result even though you have regretted the decision, which resulted in the unpleasant outcome.
This is what a friend of mine refers to as having regretted an unregretable regret. After church last Sunday, I was watching a programme on TV and a young lady was sharing with the host, how a bad decision she took, had affected her life immensely and adversely.
She narrated how she met a Caucasian and she got married to him. The white man arranged for her to join him after the marriage and processes were initiated for her to join her husband in UK. It took a while for the requisite documentation to be procured and during this period, she took a decision that has haunted her till date.
According to her narration, she met a man, a Ghanaian, who she started dating, even though she was a married woman.
After a while her documents were ready and so she left to join her husband abroad without breaking off the unholy relationship with the man from Ghana.
After she got to UK, this man from Ghana, kept pressuring her to leave the white man and return to him in Ghana. The white man at some point became a bit suspicious and asked about who she has been talking on the phone with for long spells, and she lied to him that it was her cousin.
Then comes the shocker. After the man from Ghana had sweet talked her continuously for a while, she decided to leave her husband and return to Ghana after only three weeks abroad.
She said, she asked the guy to swear to her that he would take care of both her and her mother and the guy swore to take good care of her and her mother as well as rent a 3-bedroom flat for her. She then took the decision to leave her husband and return to Ghana.
She told her mum that she was returning to Ghana to marry the guy in Ghana. According to her, her mother vigorously disagreed with her decision and wept.
She further added that her mum told her brother and they told her that they were going to tell her husband about her intentions.
According to her, she threatened that if they called her husband to inform him, then she would commit suicide, an idea given to her by the boyfriend in Ghana.
Her mum and brother afraid of what she might do, agreed not to tell her husband. She then told her husband that she was returning to Ghana to attend her Grandmother’s funeral.
The husband could not understand why she wanted to go back to Ghana after only three weeks stay so she had to lie that in their tradition, grandchildren are required to be present when the grandmother dies and is to be buried.
She returned to Ghana; the flat turns into a chamber and hall accommodation, the promise to take care of her mother does not materialise and generally she ends up furnishing the accommodation herself. All the promises given her by her boyfriend, turned out to be just mere words.
A phone the husband gave her, she left behind in UK out of guilty conscience knowing she was never coming back to UK.
Through that phone and social media, the husband found out about his boyfriend and that was the end of her marriage.
Meanwhile, things have gone awry here in Ghana and she had regretted and at a point in her narration, was trying desperately to hold back tears. Decisions indeed have consequences.
NB: ‘CHANGE KOTOKA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT TO KOFI BAAKO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT’
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