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
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.”
