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“I-DON’T CARE-ISM” IS WHAT WILL DESTROY DEAR GHANA! By CAMERON DUODU
“I don’t-care-ism”?
I bet you’ve probably never hear d the word before in your life?
Well, when I was attending a Presbyterian Primary School in the 1940s, we were constantly warned against what the teachers called “I-don’t-care-ism!”
If you went to school in the morning without combing your hair, you had done so because you had cultivated the habit of “I-don’t-care-ism”!
If you left your homework undone, you were showing “I-don’t-carism”!
If you continually came to school late; if you left your reading books or exercise books behind; if you chatted while the teacher was outside the classroom [and a prefect wrote your name down as a “talkative!”]; if your uniform looked as if it had been slept in – “I-don’t-care-ism” was to blame!
At the time, I thought the teachers were too strict and I resented their inability to appreciate that one might have committed an offence not because one was addicted to “I-don’t-care-ism” but because of particular circumstances over which one might not have had any control. But as they say in Twi, “wobenyinabƐto!” [you will grow up to come and meet it!”]
In other words, it will happen to you, too. And then you will understand why it was condemned when YOU were committing it.
At maturity, you will discern that it was because of his or her indifference to your feelings that the person who had agreed to come and see you at 9 a.m., arrived at 10.30. Had he/she considered that you probably had woken up earlier than normal in order to get ready for the meeting? Had it been considered that you might have arranged another appointment to follow that one and that by turning up late, he?she would inevitably cause you to be late for the next one? To you, all that would indicate an “I-don’t-care-ish” attitude, wouldn’t it? And while trying not to be impolite, you’d be boiling inside, wouldn’t you?
You ask: why this psychological treatise on a quiet Tuesday morning, MR D?
Hmmm! Yes – a columnist must learn not to sound like a preacher but what is a man to do when a subject matter has been occupying his mind day and night?
The subject matter that is occupying my mind is –not hard to guess – COVID-19.
Now it may not be occupying as much space in your mind as mine, and I say good luck to you! For me, that a disease can suddenly descend on humankind and within four months or so, produce the following figures, is mind-blowing; beyond comprehension.
QUOTE :
WHO Coronavirus Disease (COVID-19) Dashboard
Data last updated: 2020/5/18, 9:33am CEST
4,589,526Confirmed Cases
310,391Deaths
(Source: World Health Organization) UNQUOTE
Reader, had this disease occurred in Ghana in, say, the year of our independence (1957), when our population totalled 6,068,997, roughly two out of every three Ghanaians would have caught it! Just imagine that! And we aren’t finished yet with COVID-19 !
Shouldn’t a disease with a power of infection of this magnitude monopolise our thinking processes until by God’s grace, it vanishes from Planet Earth?
We in Ghana have been very fortunate so far, in that the disease appears mostly to have been brought
in aeroplanes to a single airport, Kotoka International. This means we were able to intercept the passengers carrying it, quarantine them and offer them treatment. Meanwhile, crack teams of contact tracers went to work, trying to find the people whom the passengers might have been in contact with, and testing them to see which of them had caught the disease, and who THEIR contacts were.
Meanwhile, we also took the precaution of “locking down” the country by asking workers to stay at home and banning social gatherings. All well and good, and when it looked as if our efforts were containing the rate of infections, we naturally relaxed things “a bit.”
But we then took our eyes off the ball. The figures of the infected became more and more indicative of the fact that the community at large had now begun to catch the disease. With our ability to test effectively challenged by a lack of adequate testing centres and our capacity to carry out “enhanced contact tracing” also limited by inadequate quantities of PPEs (personal protection equipment), we began to realise that we were sparring with a partner way above our weight.
And, of course, the bad news then hit us like a bomb. Our President, no less, told us in a national broadcast, that one person had infected 533 others at a “fish processing factory” at Tema.
What? One person infected 533? How could that happen?
We expected the Government to announce the immediate closure of the factory.
We expected the Government to name and shame the factory, pour encourager les autres (to teach others a lesson) as the French put it.)
But none of that happened. In Public Health practice, the most effective way of tackling a pandemic is to be absolutely open about it and use EVERY MEANS POSSIBLE to educate the community to follow best practice. Because it is the community that receives and imparts it. Simple.
However, the message conveyed by the failure of the health authorities to inform the populace of what had happened at Tema, was that, after all, they were not as serious about teaching us to avoid the disease as we had thought.
What’s the point of telling us to wash our hands, wear face masks and gloves and observe “social distancing”, if you allow a factory to spread the disease without imposing the severest penalties on it? And if you imply that you want to protect the factory by inexplicably withholding its name from the public?
Sadly, it wasn’t only the health authorities who failed us. Our media passed over the President’s explosive revelation about the Tema factory as if he’d just announced that Accra Hearts of Oak had drawn with Kumasi Kotoko again!Oh, another draw? Yawn! Yawn!
In every other country with a free press, the news would have been on the front pages of newspapers with banner headlines. But not in Ghana.
Fiery newspaper editorials? I am yet to see one.
Media panel discussions? Ho, why should this story that should remove Obinim from the story list?
I was so frustrated by how this story had been handled by the authorities and the media that, I issued a “press statement” urging the Government to set up a public enquiry to find out the facts about the issue.
No reaction from the Government!
Meanwhile, the Gold Mine at Obuasi is reported to have suffered a somewhat similar plight as the Tema factory.
Duh!??
I-dont’t-carism rules the day, right?
A haircut I had about a week ago didn’t go down well with many. Someone quite close to my heart saw it, examined it critically and felt dizzy.
“What’s this?” she proceeded to ask me.
“An international hairdo,” I replied.
She was disgusted, in fact disappointed. The problem with the haircut is that the style is neither Punk, Tokyo Joe nor Show Your Back. If anything, it is a combination of all—and I liked it, for a change.
It was when I bounded downtown that someone called me and enquired whether I was no longer a journalist. He said I looked like a well-fed Warrant Officer.
“Class One or Class Two?” I asked.
Another studied my head as if he was studying physical geography and pronounced that I looked like a boxer who can throw dangerous punches. Still, someone was of the opinion that the haircut didn’t quite fit me, but admitted that I looked like a prosperous merchant.
Commendation
I remember some three months ago, I had a haircut that made two girls fall in love with me. In spite of the fact that the barber was not a graduate, the cut was such that they couldn’t help admiring it. One of them actually ‘checked out’ the style and commended the barber.
The other was more bent on the ‘love matter’ but I was too busy to give her any attention. LOVE!
I was reminded of this when I viewed a premier showing of the latest Sikaman film titled THE POWER OF LOVE. The film kept me thinking. Some of us have long forgotten about what it is like to be head-over-heels in love. When we were students, we had such experiences because there was nothing doing anyway.
We were either learning how stylishly to smoke ‘jot’ or how romantically to fall in love. Anyhow, I was intrigued by this latest movie because of the way love unlimited was portrayed on screen. It took my memory back many years to relive those youthful days when we felt we’d really die if jilted by our lovers.
The storyline of THE POWER OF LOVE is really an exciting one. The combination of love, treachery and intrigue made me feast my eyes intently on the screen, unbelieving the extent the force of love can reach.
Ama and Afua are good friends. But when it comes to matters of the heart, they have different tastes; Ama is content with only her boyfriend (a student) and Afua samples the bigwigs around town. Afua, not satisfied with the shots in town, wants Ama’s boyfriend Joe in addition. She lies to Joe that Ama has often been picked by a man on four-wheels, whereupon Joe dismisses Ama and takes on Afua.
Ama doesn’t realise that it is her best friend Afua who is destroying her relationship with Joe until she catches her having sex with him. She collapses and goes out of her mind from the broken heart. But before then, she had been made pregnant by Joe.
Having escaped from a psychiatric hospital, she roams town murmuring Joe’s name. Heavily pregnant now, she espies Joe boarding a mini bus and runs towards him. Joe, seeing her approaching, quickly disembarks and takes off.
Ama pursues him furiously, and he runs to his home where he finds his bosom friend Frank making love to Afua. He immediately realises the treachery of Afua who instigated him to leave Ama.
He intends leaving the home in disgust and meets mad Ama at the door and embraces her despite her madness. Instantly, she regains her sanity.
Love indeed heals the wounds of the mind and it is the greatest positive force in the world. Incidentally, the greatest negative force is hatred.
Greatest force
Now coming to talk about love, I reiterate it is the greatest force imaginable. That is why a man will butcher his rival to death if he catches him climbing his wife without asking permission; and a woman will go mad if jilted.
It is also for this reason that a young boy who is scared stiff of cemeteries and under normal circumstances would not dare go near one, will this time walk boldly through a cemetery at midnight if that is the only way to his lover’s abode.
The Bible describes love for our neighbours as the surest way to heaven: Love thy neighbour as thyself.
Unfortunately, what Ghanaians are more interested and skilful in is loving the opposite sex. Romance under the cover of darkness is what we understand love to be all about. When it comes to loving our fellow human beings, we are found wanting.
People hate others just because they are of another tribe and do not speak the same native language. Too much grudge-bearing that does not augur well for national development.
War in Liberia, carnage in Rwanda are the results of the absence of love for one’s fellow being. If everybody could express a little bit of love for his fellow being irrespective of tribe, race, politics or religion, Sikaman—and indeed, the world—will be a more habitable place.
This article was first published on Saturday, October 29, 1994
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“Sir,” Ms. Odame said when David Asante answered the call, “my name is Victoria Odame. I’m a teacher at Research School in Koforidua. I would like to come and see you concerning a student called Sarah.”
“Okay, madam. I would be very glad to meet you. How can I make your trip easier?”
“I was going to join a bus to Accra.”
“Here’s what we will do. Take a taxi and ask them to bring you to Accra. I will speak to the driver, give him the directions, and pay him when you get here.”
The taxi stopped in front of the house. The gate opened, and the driver moved to the long driveway and stopped.
“What a beautiful house,” he said.
David and Adoma came out to meet them. Adoma paid the driver as David and Sarah stared at each other.
“Please come in and sit down,” Adoma invited. She served them water.
“You are welcome,” Adoma continued. “We have been waiting anxiously since you called this morning. So please, let’s hear you.”
Before she could open her mouth, Sarah rose, moved to David, hugged him, and sat on his lap. They both broke into tears. Adoma and Ms. Odame also broke into tears.
“Sorry, madam,” David said. “This whole episode has been a very difficult one. But let’s do the proper thing. Let’s hear you first, and I will also speak. I’m sure we need to answer some questions immediately.”
“Okay, sir. I have been taking an interest in Sarah because, although she’s brilliant academically, she seemed to be troubled. Following my discussions with her and some whispers I had been hearing, I went to Aboso Senior High School and spoke to your former colleague, Mr. Hanson. He told me that you were an exemplary teacher who was loved by all, and he also told me about the unfortunate events that caused you to leave for Germany. So I returned to Koforidua with the view to finding the appropriate means of helping to solve this problem.”
“Great. Ms. Odame, I have to thank you for finally helping us to solve this problem. Now, let me state the facts. This is what happened.
“Gladys and I met and got married whilst we were both teachers in the school. Some months into our marriage, she told me that she needed to spend some days with her parents, and I agreed.
“It turned out that she was actually spending time in a hotel with her ex-boyfriend, Simon. This happened again after Sarah was born. I got wind of this and told her that I was no longer interested in the marriage.
“I started preparing to travel to Germany. She pleaded for forgiveness, but I stood my ground. Then she told me that she would punish me for rejecting her.
“She came out later to say that Sarah was not my child, but Simon’s. She went and hid her somewhere, obviously expecting that I would fight to take my child. I was actually going to do that, but my parents advised me that it was almost impossible to win such a fight.
“They advised that, difficult as it sounded, I should leave the child with her because she would come back to me eventually. I have absolutely no problem taking care of you, Sarah. I am taking care of quite a number of kids who are not mine. So that is what happened. My hands were tied. I have been trying to find out how you are doing.
“I kept hearing that you were doing well at school. I also heard that Gladys and her husband were having problems, but I kept hoping that my daughter would at least be okay till it was possible for me to go for her.”
“Sarah, now you have met your dad. You will be free to—”
“I’m not going anywhere!” she declared as she held on to him.
“You don’t have to worry about that, Sarah,” Adoma said. “We have been looking forward to the day you come home. This is your home. Now, you have to meet your siblings.” She called Abrefi and Adaawa.
“Girls, we told you that you have a sister who would join us anytime. Now here she is.”
“Sarah?” Abrefi asked.
“Yes,” Adoma replied. The girls hugged her and took her away.
“Now,” David said, “I think it is time to call Madam Gladys.” He dialed the number.
“My name is David Asante. I’m here in my house with my daughter Sarah. I hear you have told her all sorts of crazy stories about me. I could make life very difficult for you, but I won’t.
“You are your own worst enemy. I don’t think you should be expecting her anytime soon. What do you say?”
Gladys stayed silent for over a minute, then cut the line.
“Food is ready,” Adoma announced. “Everybody, please come to the table.”
Sarah chatted excitedly with her siblings as Adoma and David spoke with Ms. Odame. She kept staring at her father.
“Now, Ms. Odame, after you have brought such joy into our home, should we allow you to go back to Koforidua today, or should we wait till we are ready to release you? I could call your husband and ask permission.
“And please don’t tell me you didn’t bring anything for an overnight stay. There are several supermarkets around here. We can fix that problem quickly.”
“I will beg you to release me. Now that I have been so warmly welcomed here, I already feel part of this home. Koforidua is not that far away, so I will visit often.”
“Well, let’s see what the kids have to say. Ladies, shall I release Ms. Odame to go back to Koforidua?”
“No!” they shouted, and all broke into laughter.
“Ms. Odame, I will have mercy on you. But we are going to do something to make it easy for you to visit us. My wife wants to show you something. Please follow her.”
Adoma led her to the driveway as the others followed. They stopped in front of the car.
“This is a Toyota Corolla 1600. It is very reliable and good on petrol consumption. We are giving this to you in appreciation of your help in getting our daughter back to us.
“And here in this envelope is a little contribution to help you with maintenance. And here in this other envelope is a gift to help with your children’s school fees.”
As she stood, stunned, and stared from the car to the envelopes, David put his hand around his family.
“Let’s leave her to take a look at her car. Ms. Odame, one of my drivers will drive you to Koforidua and leave your car with you. We are waiting inside.”
By Ekow de Heer
