Features
Foray into journalism…. Editor retires
Mr Emmanuel Amponsah
As we grow up we fantasise about being one thing or the other. We want to be teachers because we see them as very knowledgeable. We want to be nurses as they are neatly dressed. Many others fancy being doctors, pilots, engineers and many more.
When I resisted going to school and was asked what I wanted to do, I quickly responded I wanted to be a washerman. But this desire evaporated as an uncle told me I would need to write the names of my clients in case they brought identical items.
As time went on I saw my own prowess in the study of Geography as a subject. I again thought of being a soldier, but in my ignorance I thought it was not feasible since I did not grow a moustache. Teaching did not feature under any circumstance. My Geography improved when I went to secondary school.
Finally, I made up my mind to read either Geomorphology or Climatology. I can proudly say I was easily the best Geography student but the final examination did not favour me in the subject. I was devastated. I ended up going to train as a teacher at the Presbyterian Training College, Akropong.in the Eastern Region of Ghana.
On one vacation in Accra from Madonna school at Koforidua, I phoned the Editor of the *Weekly Spectator* to inquire if I could write a column for the paper. The Editor, a Mr. Kwesi Woode, as he said his name was, asked me to forward three scripts to his office. I told him I could only write on situations as they unfolded and he said he could not help. I knew it was his right to turn me down.
My flair for writing was ignited by a Ms. Elizabeth Suhre, an American Peace Corps volunteer who taught me English Language for three years. Sometime in 1971 there was a national essay competition on the subject, “What should the National Service Corps do?” It was during the premiership of Dr. Kofi Abrefa Busia.
My essay was one of two selected for the Keta District. Mine was picked for the Regionals at Ho. Again, my essay was picked to represent Volta Region at the national level. The final draw did not come off before Busia was overthrown by soldiers on January 13, 1972.
As fate would have it, I got my Advanced Diploma in Journalism and Professional Writing. Now I had two professions; a teacher and journalist. I have written quite a bit under pseudonyms, some sermons under pseudonyms and Astrological predictions in the same manner.
Having done radio, television and print I came to the conclusion that anything on radio and television goes with the wind, but the written material lingers forever, even in spite of the fact that with ICT, materials anywhere can be stored and retrieved.
In December of 2020 I presented an Astrological predictions and perspective on Election 2020 to the *Daily Graphic* for publication. As was their right to do, the Night Editor of the paper got my write-up removed from the paper. I admit that our personal beliefs and biases can be brought to bear on our vocations. But it was his right to do what he did.
Then, out of the blue I got a call from a number I did not have in my phone contacts. He identified himself as the Editor of the *Weekly Spectator* asking if I could write a column for the paper. I did not think twice before accepting the offer. He made it clear that the company did not have money and I told him I did not expect payment.
So, on Saturday the 4th of December in 2020 *Random Muses* began on these pages with the very write-up *Daily Graphic* rejected. According to my Editor, some sceptics on the subject of astrology called him after the Election 2020 to express their wonder at the predictions.
Two weeks ago as I got my newspapers delivered to me I saw on the front page that my Editor had retired. I recall he had mentioned before the last Christmas period that he would retire this year, but I thought it might be in December. Let me make a confession: I have never set eyes on my Editor, Mr Emmanuel Amponsah.
We only communicate by phone or email. I can imagine what he may have gone through publishing my write-ups, especially since I state my mind without inhibition on any subject matter. Knowing how toxic our national discourse can be, writing on national issues is one thing, but having the courage to put them on the pages of a national paper is something else.
I usually tell Mr. Amponsah he should feel free to edit or get me to change my write-ups to save his skin from intolerant politicians who may call to rebuke him, but he tells me he would do no such thing as touch my scripts. I salute my Editor for his courage and professionalism and also for his independent mindedness.
This is what is expected of a professional journalist: independent mindedness. Those who buckle under political pressure/influence and those who fear to lose their positions are threats to national development and progress.
Talking about political pressure brings me to respond to a reader who sent me an email asking why I do not appear on television any longer. It was a good observation. True, I used to appear on newspaper review programmes on television until three years ago. At this point I was paired with Captain Joel Kwami Sowu, a nationalist to the core.
One morning, the young, hardworking and dynamic producer called to tell me that his management had decided to split Captain Sowu and me so that each of us would be paired with different panellists. Naturally, I asked if there was a problem. He answered that a call came from the communication department of the New Patriotic Party (NPP) demanding such action.
According to him, the NPP requested that we should be paired with one of their communicators to ‘counter’ whatever we had to say. My first reaction was “nonsense.” What I know of Captain Sowu is that he has an independent mind and has no partisan leanings. A fiercely political individual, Joel is not afraid of stating his opinions without fear.
First, we did not know what the newspapers published until we got to the studio, so how could a political party know what we were going to say so as to ‘counter’ us? It did not make sense to me and I told the young producer that I would get back to him after I had spoken to Captain Sowu.
When I narrated this to Joel, all he said in response was, “Akofa, if you buy into this nonsense, go ahead and appear on the newspaper review programmes.” I have stayed away from that station ever since. If a media organisation wants to dance to political music it is within their right to do so.
I have appeared on programmes with very seasoned and matured minds in the NPP, NDC, CPP and PNC. I can easily recall the likes of lawyers Kwame Jantuah and Tom Mawusi, Hon. Catherine Afeku, Philip Longdon, Bernard Mornah, Kwaku Baako Jnr, Egbert Faibile, Joe Jackson, Professors Nii Noi Dowuona and Nana Essilfi Conduah and many others I cannot recall immediately.
I am glad to stay away because I cringe when I hear some of these young, intolerant upstarts throwing insults at people who hold opposing views to theirs. Imagine calling a Paramount Chief a propagandist of another party and another saying a co-panellist was not qualified to be the president’s houseboy. The simple rule is to state your view and let others state theirs. There are some from the NDC who do no better.
Fortunately, no political party has ever asked me to communicate on their behalf. When I appear on a programme I see the whole nation as my constituency and address issues dispassionately. Let me make another confession: I voted religiously for NPP’s Nana Akomea since 1996 until he decided not to enter Parliament any longer. Even after I left the constituency in 1997 I kept my vote there till he left.
I vote for people I am convinced can deliver, not on flimsy emotional or for sentimental reasons. It is for this reason that I doff my hat to Mr Emmanuel Amponsah. He did not ask my political leaning though he may know now that I am an unrepentant admirer of the Osagyefo Dr Kwame Nkrumah and his Pan Africanist philosophy.
Once a journalist, I believe Mr. Amponsah will remain a journalist. I welcome him to the Club of Retirees. I wish my Editor the best in any endeavour he undertakes in retirement. I am convinced that his successor will accept me for who I am.
Writer’s email address:
akofa45@yahoo.com
By Dr. Akofa K. Segbefia
I have often been saddened by the condition of Sikaman musicians. Of course, some are not musicians. They are jokers who think anybody who can sing a hymn is a musician. And why wouldn’t they think so when people think that every man wearing a rasta hair is a reggae musician?
Well, these days, almost everybody is dreaming of becoming a musician, even some ministers and parliamentarians. And it is never too late for them to begin learning the solfas and composing songs like “If You Do Good You Do For Yourself,” after all, life begins at 60 these days. If you die three years later, that’s your luck.
For the jobless, becoming a musical star is an everyday dream. They think when you are a music maker, you automatically break alliance with poverty. They are often mistaken.
I know people who claim they are musicians but are always fasting not because they are devout moslems or are on a hunger strike, but because even one square meal a day is a perpetual wahala. And the only drink they can afford is the poor man’s holy whisky which has a thousand names including ‘Nyame Bekyere’.
Even most of the popular musicians we see in town claiming they are foreign-based stars are more of hustlers than musicians. When they tell you they are going on tour abroad, it is a careful way of saying they are going overseas to scrub the whiteman’s toilet or pick tomato or apples to save their neck from musical poverty.
When they are back to Sikaman, they appear quite flamboyant with chains hanging all over them. They change the few dollars they have scraped, spread it around and promptly get broke. Then they can organise another ‘tour’. In between tours, they struggle to release an album and that levels them up a bit on the financial balance.
It all points to the fact that the life of the average musician isn’t quite organised. He has no calendar, no programme and no concentration on the job. He has to wash plates, become a waiter, janitor and toilet scrubber while finding time to make music. No musician succeeds in life that way.
One musician I’ll always respect, who thinks deeper than the ordinary Sikaman musicians is Carlos Sakyi. He is not like the Kokoase guitar musicians who see the world just in terms of bitters, a willing girlfriend, constant supply of kokonte and jot.
Carlos, often loved for his percussive overtones in gospel music, and once a gospel-rock star, has studied the life of Sikaman musicians and has evolved a blue-print for a great improvement in their lives work, finances and comfort.
In short, he has simulated a Motown-style environment for musicians and his formula is working with accuracy with the five musicians he has started with. The blue-print is what has brought MEGASTAR into being. It was launched on September 15, 1995 at the National Theatre.
When it got launched, many probably thought Carlos was “too know or was dreaming more than he should and won’t think about himself. Anyhow, the MEGASTAR is now an institution musicians can look up to, a big phenomenon with lots of promise for struggling musicians.
Music business in the developed world is not the way we regard it cheaply here. A musician is never distracted by how his finances go; his contracts are entered, his engagements made, his interviews arranged, his personal security guaranteed.
Music is his business and that is where his mind is and his attention focuses. Other aspects of his life are programmed for him by his managers. They hire who has to light his cigarettes, massage him, drive his car and the one who will say “Good Luck” when he sneezes.
A bodyguard whose face is exactly like that of the devil is hired to scare off muggers, psychopaths and criminals in general. Sometimes his girls are organised for him.
So the only thing the musician does apart from sleeping and snoring is to concentrate on making music, and true to it, no one can succeed in any venture when he is distracted.
This is how the Michael Jacksons, Lionel Richies, Dolly Patons and Whitney Houstons have made it with dollars packed and over-flowing. They aren’t any better than Sikaman musicians. The only difference is that they know how to organise their lives.
I managed to corner Carlos Sakyi and asked him to tell me how MEGASTAR was doing. He is the Managing Director of Megastar Limited, a music company that has a board of directors and a chairman. Carlos Sakyi shares the proprietorship with a partner. Carlos himself was one great musician who played for a band that beat Eddy Grant on the charts.
“Megastar is in fact a concept born out of the idea that the future security of the Ghanaian musician which has always been in jeopardy can now be guaranteed. Artistes spend too much of their time doing things on their own, chasing money and not concentrating on music. So their full potential is never realised. Some are in fact producing at quarter-rate. That is why they aren’t making much headway,” he told me.
“Megastar is now giving them the chance of the lives. We handle the interviews of Megastar artiste, their press releases, costume, engagements and everything they hitherto used to do themselves. We get them exposed on M-Net and we have contacted BB to get on their programmes. We handle their finances pay them salaries and bonuses, so they only have to concentrate on music
“Most importantly,” he continued, “we do not make all the decisions. Management always meet with the musicians to take the decisions that affect them.”
But who are the Megastar musicians? One is the great Amakye Dede, a star from birth delivered onto the earth with music on his lips; he is the man who feeds hungry ears with musical salad and harmonic sausages. He is the recipient of many national awards.
Next is Naana Frimpong, a latter-day Carlos-groomed songbird with the voice of an angel. She sings to kill. Her beauty has charmed her audience and they stare and stare at her.
The sensational and fantalising Tagoe Sisters are the next. The twin music machine is one that has produced the cream, arguably the very best, of gospel music all these years. I hear they are inseparable; not even their better-halves can keep them apart. Are they Siamese? They dance, and when on stage, they move the crowd.
Then comes Reverend Yawson who is a known songwriter. He is imbued with the Holy Spirit, speaks in tongues and of course sings in tongues. He is God’s representative on the group.
What about my good friend and super-heavyweight, Jewel Ackah? He is a star figure. His appearance is awe-inspiring, his voice golden. A great delight to be-hold when at his best in stage-craftsmanship, he has beaten his contemporaries to it both on land and on sea.
They are the pioneers of the Motown idea. They are all releasing new albums this year. Let’s see how it all goes.
In recent years, the term “female rage” has gained significant traction, symbolising a collective shift in how women’s emotions are perceived and addressed.
This phenomenon is not merely a fleeting trend but a profound movement rooted in centuries of systemic injustices, personal betrayals, and societal expectations.
As women increasingly reclaim their anger, it is imperative to understand the multifaceted nature of female rage, its causes, and its implications for individuals and society at large.
The historical context of female anger
Historically, women’s emotions have been subject to dismissal, ridicule, and pathologisation. The term “hysteria,” originating from the Greek word for uterus, was used to describe women’s emotional states as irrational and uncontrollable.
This legacy of silencing and shaming has contributed to a culture where women’s anger is often suppressed or stigmatised.
However, with the rise of feminist movements, women are challenging these narratives, asserting their right to express anger and demand change.
The anatomy of female rage
Female rage is not a monolith; it is a complex and multifaceted emotion driven by various factors, including:
1. Societal expectations: The pressure to conform to traditional roles of passivity, politeness, and emotional labour.
2. Gender inequality and pay gaps: Frustration stemming from systemic discrimination in the workplace and beyond.
3. Sexual harassment and abuse: Trauma and anger resulting from pervasive violence and objectification.
4. Emotional labour and burnout: The unsustainable burden of managing emotions and responsibilities in personal and professional spheres.
5. Hormonal fluctuations: The impact of hormonal changes on emotional states, often overlooked or dismissed.
The power of anger: Reclaiming female rage
Far from being a destructive force, female rage can be a catalyst for change. When acknowledged and channelled constructively, anger can drive advocacy, policy reform, and resistance against inequality.
The #MeToo movement, women’s marches, and increased representation in politics are testaments to the power of collective female anger.
Addressing the Stigma: Towards a more inclusive dialogue
To fully harness the potential of female rage, society must address the stigma surrounding women’s anger. This involves:
1. Validation and recognition: Acknowledging women’s emotions as legitimate and worthy of attention.
2. Creating safe spaces: Providing platforms for women to express anger without fear of backlash.
3. Education and awareness: Challenging stereotypes and promoting understanding of women’s experiences.
4. Support systems: Offering resources and support for women dealing with trauma and systemic injustices.
Conclusion
The age of female rage is a moment of profound transformation, where women’s anger is no longer silenced but celebrated as a force for justice.
By understanding the roots of female rage and addressing the societal structures that fuel it, we can move towards a more equitable and compassionate world.
The journey is complex, but the destination-a society where women’s emotions are respected and their voices are heard is worth the struggle.
References:
[1] Chemudupati, P. (2022). _The Rage of Women: A Historical Perspective_.
[2] Traister, R. (2018). _Good and Mad:
By Robert Ekow Grimond-Thompson
