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Hair styles and Palm Sunday
MY bosom friend Kofi Kokotako once told me that a person’s haircut portrays his character. I disagreed with him and said a person’s character portrays his haircut. All in all, we agreed between us that a presidential aspirant whose haircut is excessively punk cannot win even a unit committee election, much more a castle-bound one.
One thing I hated as a kid was getting my hair barbered because I never had the style I wanted. Usually, it was my father who was the tormentor-in-chief, and he chose the kind of design that would suit the shape and nature of my head and that of my elder brother Christian, whose name is more civilised than mine.
When we were through, we looked quite different from the other kids. I didn’t know where my Pop learnt that kind of style but I realised it was very colonial in form and outlook and I became sad when the girls giggled at my design.
Actually, it was something resembling a half-bow with a line cut through at about 38 degrees to the perpendicular. After the ordeal we looked half like the resident catechist and half like a fierce Regimental Sergeant-Major.
When I told my daddy that I had had enough of the ancient cut and wanted an Afro or at least a Tokyo Joe, he quickly explained that Tokyo Joe was for ruffians and that his style was tailor-made for aspiring doctors, lawyers, engineers and great states-men. He didn’t mention journalists though.
So I went and told the giggling girls that my hairdo was a magical one that was going to transform me into a doctor whether they liked it or not. I added that their brothers who had modern haircuts invariably were going to be labourers and tangas (town council). They laughed at me even the more.
They referred me to the conservancy labourer not far away who always wore my kind of cut and asked me why he wasn’t wearing a white gown with a stethoscope hanging from his neck, if that kind of haircut was indeed miracle-performing!
My Dad was quite scrupulous and dished us the haircut in its hardest form just before Palm Sunday. It helped boost our religious conviction and the Holy Spirit almost descended and settled on our wonderful heads.
At Sunday school one Palm Sunday, the lady teacher asked me to stand so that she could admire my hairdo. I was quite flattered and happy that I was the centre of attraction on a great occasion like Palm Sunday. So I quickly stood up and turned round like a model for all to see and envy my design.
It was when the teacher asked me whether my daddy was a policeman that I lost heart. At the mention of policeman, everybody started laughing and I concluded that the teacher wasn’t admiring my head after all. All she wanted to do was to predict my daddy’s occupation using my head as a determinant. I wasn’t pleased with the attempt.
Today whenever it is getting to Palm Sunday 1 remember the incident. And actually I have always enjoyed Palm Sunday because deep within me, I’m a very religious person and I believe that once God will judge us by the purity of our hearts and not the bottles of beer we quaff, I shall also be in heaven together with Korkorti.
Now if you observe properly, you’d realise it is those who are not believers who celebrate Easter to the fullest. They understand the real meaning of Palm Sunday because they equate it to the birthday of palm wine. They actually mourn the death of Christ and rejoice at his resurrection using palm in the form of wine.
Palm Sunday is best marked in the rural areas where palm wine is always available from dawn to dusk and vice versa. Normally, people start Palm Sunday at exactly 4.15 am when the freshly-tapped wine starts arriving. But you have to begin slowly otherwise you’d be in coma before the sun rises.
Easter is due again and this time as usual, the action is right in the countryside. Kwahu is going to shake, Tapa Abotoase will somersault and Peki would explode. All over the world, these three Sikaman towns are ranked as places where Easter is best celebrated with a hangover assured.
People from Britain, Germany and Holland come down either to Obo Kwahu or Avetile Peki to celebrate Easter. They never miss it. It is a yearly ritual. They save towards the occasion.
So during the celebrations, people from all over the country also converge on these places and the celebrants compare haircuts and note carefully those who have grown lean and those who are neither growing lean or growing fat.
In fact, people assess their fellow human beings to ascertain whether they are becoming prosperous or are chewing grass. News is also brought from all over the globe and those from Germany (Jaaamani) are the loudest. The way they talk, you would never know they are cleaning the whiteman’s toilet to make some dough. You’ll think they are Managing Directors of a multinational corporation in Dusseldof. Such is life.
It is during church service on Easter Sunday that the been-tos and the locals alike display whatever they have under their sleeves. The gentlemen are often resplendent in suits and black shining pairs of shoes, and the way they walk can be a clue as to where they are sojourning. With seamen for instance, it can be quite psychedelic. It is a real sight to behold especially if they hail from Kromanti, Moree or Abandze.
With the ladies, the spectacle is breathtaking. It is unbelievable! You can’t comprehend it using the human senses. You have to employ spiritual means. The kaba styles are of different kinds, styles, colour and combination of colours. Some of the styles are complemented with wings and when the lady wearing it is hurrying to “chapel” you’ll think she is actually airborne. She is practically a human vulture.
Then comes the picnic sessions which are normally well-attended by gate crashers, mental patients and political strategists who are also well-versed with what is going on between Kwame Pianim and kukrudu. So they brief their listeners and prophesy the outcome of court cases and election results. In exchange, they are well-fed, well-boozed and all.
But things do not happen only during the day time. At night, the devil usually takes over. Friendships are entered into, old girlfriends are re-baptised and there is love and romance.
By Easter Monday, marriages are broken, new marriages contracted, girlfriends are jilted and pregnancies are on the way awaiting abortion. Every year it happens, and this year it is going to happen again. The death and resurrection of the Lord will really be marked in both righteous and evil ways.
Perhaps, this is not how Judas intended it to be celebrated. Judas was the architect of the Holy Friday coup d’état against the Son of Man.
This article was first published on Saturday March 30, 1996
THE typical itinerant salesman in Sikaman is a herbalist. He is normally a slim macho with the capacity to perambulate the expanse of area covering the triangle of Accra-Tema-Ashiaman. In short, he can walk a total of 60 miles a day, marketing a product that cures every disease, including poverty. 
The door-to-door herbal pharmacist advertises his product by word of mouth. He has nothing to do with the Food and Drugs Board (FDB). After all, his concoctions do not feature on FM stations.
Those herbalists who cannot walk to propagate the herbal gospel, liaise with drivers of mass transportation and their mates. They are, therefore, given the chance to sell their products on Benz buses that ply the routes.
Normally, the herbalist starts his sales message with a prayer and Bible study. He asks the passengers to bow down their heads in supplication to God the father, the son, the Holy Spirit.
When a herbalist asks the passengers to close their eyes and bow their heads, Moslems on board naturally feel offended. They feel that the herbalist has no right to assume that every passenger is a Christian. They think such an assumption is an affront to Islam.
So a Moslem on board will raise the hand for a point of order. He’ll remind the herbalist that it would be in his own interest to mind his language.
“Be careful the way you address people in a public place. Not every person here is a Christian,” he’d state assertively.
Of course, the herbalist will promptly ignore him, but would all the same “watch” his tongue. Who knows whether or not the Moslem brother is inspired by Quoranic zeal to defend the tenets of Islam to the hilt?
When he starts saying, “Wallahi!” and “Inshallah!” it could be the beginning of proclaiming Islam as supreme, a point which must be driven home with talibanic precision.
So the herbalist must tread carefully lest he steps on fire.
The herbalist could even add a measure of mirth to it all, by announcing that Christians on board today have very interesting company on the journey, but that should not detract from the business of the day.
The Moslem brother will weigh the words carefully and offer a wry smile.
He must be careful the occasion does not degenerate into the use of semantics and proverbial oration to deride his conviction that public utterances must be mindful of religious sensibilities. He has made his point very clear and expects that it is taken in good faith in the interest of a peaceful journey.
The herbalist will now open the New Testament and preach salvation, stating clearly that salvation can come only through Jesus Christ and NOBODY else.
The Moslem brother will now start twitching his moustache. The visible and almost revolutionary reflexes of his upper lip can be an indication that sentiments have begun superseding reason, and the outcome could well be tragic now shift uneasily in his seat.
The time has come for him to also express his right to the religion of his fore-bears. He’ll put his hand into his pocket and rise to his feet. The time has indeed come!
This article was first published on Saturday, September 9, 2006
When the cause of a particular problem like sickness, disease, sudden illness, a social issue etc. are not known, it stands to reason that resolving it becomes a huge challenge.
Citizens would understand the government when public announcements are made to the effect that government is trying to find a solution to the issue, even though it is taking a while for it to be resolved because citizens are rational beings.
On the other hand, if the solution to a particular issue is known to everybody but the government for whatever reason, is dragging its feet in resolving it, citizens become frustrated and begin to lose trust in their leaders.
One such issue is the heavy traffic along a section of the Kasoa – Odokor road. A short stretch of bad road between the traffic light at the Weija Government Hospital and the entrance to the entrance of the overhead that leads to the N1, is the cause of the problem but nothing is being done about it, day after day, week after week, month after month. Thus is clearly unacceptable.
Another issue that requires urgent attention is the lack of pavements along a lot of streets in parts of the various Municipal Assemblies. Exercise is a prerequisite for long life and healthy living and for those of us who it has become a way of life, this issue of people putting up structures right to the edge of the drains beside the roads, are making life difficult for us.
We are compelled to walk along the roads, putting our lives at serious risk. Pedestrians should never be compelled to compete with vehicles on our streets and roads. Roads and streets are made for vehicles and pavements are made for pedestrians. That is the norm. Any attempt to normalise a situation where pedestrians are mingling with vehicles is insanity.
It is the road regulations that makes it so and therefore district or municipal assemblies are to take responsibility and ensure that spaces for pavements are not encroached upon. Citizens have rights that must be protected by their leaders and making pavements available to pedestrians, is one of them.
When we hear of teachers having sex with students, it appears it is something recent. It is not a new phenomenon. It has been there since Adam. Perhaps this issue is getting much attention due to the proliferation of social media. It was an open secret in times past when Teachers were in relationships with female students and some married them immediately after completion of school.
Some teachers were also known to be having unholy interactions with female pupils but due to the times that these acts occurred, human rights issues and the awareness around it, allowed such unscrupulous teachers to get away with their crimes.
Now we are in a different era and so a Headmaster is now in hot waters. He is alleged to have raped about 19 female students and as usual, some officials tried to cover it up and are also in hot waters and their actions or inactions in the matter are under investigation.
Why the man has been allowed to roam freely without being arrested is simply mind boggling. It appears that the law applies differently, depending on who you are. This issue came to public attention sometime in August this year, yet the police had not arrested or invited this man for question regarding the rape allegation.
It has come out that he is a Constituency Secretary of the ruling party and the question in the public domain is that, is it because he is a political figure that is why he is still walking around without questioning? I believe in the rule of law so let us hold our breadth and let the proper thing be done.
The police must however be seen to be active in this matter. God bless.
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