Features
No vernacular here
Back in the day when we were in primary school, we were forbidden to speak what was termed “vernacular” in school. English was the only prescribed means of communication among us pupils. If you spoke Ewe your name was taken down for the teacher on duty to mete out punishment to you. It was mostly corporal punishment.
The understanding among us pupils was that English was not a vernacular. Meanwhile, our teachers spoke Ewe freely among themselves on the school compound, which baffled me immensely, young as I was. This vernacular edict followed us to Middle School. I had the nerve to ask one of our teachers, a Mr. Akakpo, why they spoke vernacular among themselves yet asked us not to do same.
Mr. Akakpo answered that they had mastered the English language and that it was our turn to learn the language so that at a point in the future, it would not natter if we spoke vernacular or English. Because some of us had searching and absorbing minds, we paid attention to how our teachers spoke English. We had no knowing that not all of them were professionally trained as teachers. Some of us took to our dictionaries to look for English words to bamboozle our classmates with. And it was fun.
I cannot remember if I was ever punished for speaking vernacular because there were a few of us brilliant ones who challenged one another to excel, so we took to speaking English as seriously as other subjects. It worked for us academically, to the extent that even after closing from classes we still spoke English, much to the chagrin of our mates who would switch to Ewe as soon as their backs were turned to the school walls.
This vernacular thing followed me to secondary school at Anloga. Thankfully, there were students from all over Ghana. Others came from Nigeria and Cameroon. Some of them were Ewe, but could hardly speak a word of the language. It turned out that their parents sent them there so they could learn to speak Ewe. Students from Accra and other places spoke Ga and Akan freely.
I wondered how those who were at Anloga to learn the language were going to succeed since vernacular was forbidden. But somehow a good number of them spoke the language by the time they left the school. I did not know until after I had left and met them at old student meetings and heard them speak fluent Ewe.
At a point I thought only Ewe was regarded as vernacular until I was speaking Akan with a mate whose parents, like mine, lived in Koforidua when a tutor accosted us for speaking vernacular.
I was tempted to laugh at his seeming ignorance of what vernacular was but that would mean ridiculing a teacher. My friend said we were speaking Twi, not vernacular. This tutor now had his time to laugh. He explained to us that vernacular was simply a language that was unique to a particular group of people. I asked if English was a vernacular to the people whose language it was and he answered in the affirmative.
To digress a bit: Ms. Elizabeth Suhre, an American Peace Corps volunteer taught me English for three years. Then I began to see flaws in the English I was taught in basic school. It was during one of my holidays to my hometown that I discovered some of those who taught me were pupil teachers. Mr. Akakpo was one, but I give him credit for whipping my interest in French. He schooled partly in Togo and, because I was close to him, he introduced me to the language.
In Ewe class in secondary school it was a different thing altogether. I can say, without any iota of contradiction that Ewe is easily the most difficult language to learn in Ghana. Grammar aside, Ewe Literature and Poetry are as tough as nails. How Professors Kofi Awoonor and Kofi Anyidoho excelled, and were dexterous in both Ewe and English amazes me.
When I became a teacher I was supposed to punish pupils who spoke vernacular. I never did. First, I had dropped the foreign name I was given at baptismal because I had an identity as an African. How was I to punish someone for speaking their own language? I even encouraged some parents of my charges to take out the foreign names they gave to their children. Very few did.
Today, our education gurus have realised that a child introduced to his own language till he goes to school at four is better able to do well in second languages. This is something some of us loudmouths have been saying long ago. But I believe many of our schools still forbid the use of vernacular as a medium of communication among students and pupils. This must change. I have encountered people who speak their mother tongue like Patois. Meanwhile, they have no mastery of the English language either.
Parents have also cultivated the bad habit of speaking only English to their children at home, thus depriving the young ones of appreciating the beauty of their own language and culture. I have encountered the beauty of Ghanaian parents speaking only their language with their children in countries like the US, the UK, Germany, Belgium, France and others. These children do better in the languages of their host countries at school.
Some of us make jest of other people’s language for whatever reason. I wonder if this attitude is borne out of ignorance, a lack of enlightenment or both;or from just plain tribal bigotry? This is so pervasive in some areas, to the extent that others have been cowed into inferiority complex.
I recollect my employer back in Takoradi was always furious whenever I spoke Ewe to my colleagues who were Ewe. According to him, it smacked of disrespect to others, especially since we could speak Fante. He found nothing wrong when I spoke to others in English. I was unfazed by his disdain for the language. I have a friend from the Upper East Region who suffered same thing at her workplace. I told her never to give up speaking her language to her compatriots.
Sadly, some of our politicians know no better. Paradoxically, as representatives of the people, these politicians mirror the very society they represent instead of serving as agents of positive change.
I do not quite understand why we have disrespected our own languages for so long. Is it an issue of being more Catholic than the Pope? It is sad to know that some of us feel shy of our own languages or of where we even hail from. I am a proud, unrepentant native of Anyako. I speak Anlo Ewe proudly, though I speak three other Ghanaian languages. What pride do you have in where you hail from? That’s my question to you, dear reader.
Writer’s email address:
akofa45@yahoo.com
By Dr. Akofa K. Segbefia
Features
The Cop, press and lost fingers
The job of a policeman, whether he is short or tall, is not a cheap one. He is supposed to keep the peace, protect society and monitor the activities of local magicians and money doublers who are specialists in making civil servants lose their pay within seconds.
By far the most difficult job of the policeman is when he is expected to arrest a murderer who is not only armed but also has a record of appearing and disappearing at will. Even if the tough cop is in the company of other policemen all armed to the teeth, his stomach will turn to water when the criminal suddenly appears.
He is terrified not because the criminal is a better marksman, but because nobody dies twice. The problem also is that a criminal might be prepared to die in a bid to shoot his way to freedom. But is the police-man prepared to risk death in the course of duty when he has a family to rear.
If he had just acquired a new girlfriend with whom he is enjoying life, should he not run away with his tail between his legs and tell his boss that the criminal is uncatchable?
Before some policemen go on patrol duties, they actually pray solemnly. “God send me into the wilderness and bring me back safely with my nose intact because I’m worth more than a common rat. I also do not want to die like a stray dog. If a bullet is targeted at my forehead, Holy Spirit please let it go over the bar, because six children is not a small palaver. If I die, who will look after them? Lord keep me safe day by day. Amen!”
The Sikaman policeman’s job is a risky one because he is not properly equipped with even a trained dog to help track down criminals easily. So he has to use his own nose judiciously in sniffing out suspects while making sure a bullet doesn’t catch him square on the jaw.
My friend Sir Kofi Owuo, a.k.a. Death-By-Poverty was telling me journalists are in an even riskier profession. Apparently, he had been reading about the palaver of journalists in places like Algeria and Columbia. Algeria, even women journalists are not spared assassin’s bullet. You’d see them lying in front of their homes with their heads full of bullet holes.
In Columbia, no journalist is safe. When a journalist is leaving home, he has to tell his wife. “Darling, when I don’t come back by 7 p.m. check the mortuary
The drug trade in Columbia has made journalism a profession not worth practising. If you write on cocaine and the harm it is inflicting on society, you’ll certainly receive a phone call.
“Hello, Mr Journalist, your article yesterday was great. Congratulations! We never knew you were such brilliant writer, championing the cause of society. Again we say congrats! But you know something, by your article, you want to take the bread out of my and that of my family. You don’t want us to beak. We are aggrieved beyond measure”
“Oh, I was just… “You’d try to say something
“You don’t have to explain. The harm has already been done by your award-winning masterpiece. We have an appointment with you. You’ll hear from us.
Rest In Peace!” After such a phone call, you just have to pray to your soul, sing a hymn or two and get prepared fort appointment with death. For, death will surely come
I think pressmen in Sikaman would also have start informing their families appropriately before leaving for work now. “If I don’t come back early, I’m probably at the Ear, Nose and Throat Department of Korle- Bu checking a leakage in my left ear due to a gendarme slap from an AMA official. If you don’t see me there, track me down to the emergency ward. If you see a newly-made cripple, I’m the one”
What about referees? These days they are guarded during football matches so that the risk they bear in terms of lost teeth is minimal. Formerly, it used to be a job full of woes and tribulations.
You were expected to oversee a match in such way that would favour a particular team. If that is not done, you’ll get back home and your wife will not recognise you. She’ll mistake you for Frank Bruno who had just lost a bout. When she finally recognises you, she’ll fix some hot water to massage your poor face.
I hear that these days, apart from the protection referees receive, some are well-armed with Damfo Dzai, a kind of jack-knife that can carve a rowdy supporters face in several designs.
My Press Secretary and part-time bodyguard Devine Ankamah, was telling me if he happens to be a referee, he’d surely carry a Kalashnikov AK 47 rifle with him, complete with loaded magazine, before officiating matches. According to him, that is the only way to do the job without fear or favour. Anyone dares will lose his jaw.
Anyway, risky jobs require good remuneration. As Kwame Korkorti once said, risky jobs require risky salary. A policeman would require a good pay so that when a criminal targets his left ear it would be worth the ‘amputation’. Same for journalists and cameramen.
But go round private workplaces and factories and you’d see really risky occupations where workers are receiving salaries they can’t see with the naked eye.
In fact, in some private workplaces, environmental safety is completely absent. Workers breathe in fumes, poisonous gases and risk lung and respiratory problems. Their employers do nothing about protecting them against these hazards. Check out their payer.
In other places, workers have their fingers chopped off on the job, some losing as many as four fingers in stretch. The compensation they get can best be described as “wicked”. Their employers live big, chop big, ride big but are not willing to pay more than ¢120,000 for lost fingers.
Actually the more fingers you lose, the more money you get. So if you intend losing your fingers on the job, it is advisable to lose as many as possible so that you can get more cash. Those who have lost one finger have not benefited much and are encouraged to lose more next time around.
Sikaman Palava is undertaking to investigate some of these cases of very risky jobs in private setups and companies where workers are being exploited to unnecessarily but not offered protection against health hazards, and not properly compensated when they sustain injuries.
This article was first published on Saturday, September 28, 1996
Features
Position yourself for God’s blessings
Motivated by the impending 40-day fasting and needless to add prayer programme, preceding the Greater Works Conference scheduled for August in Accra, I would like to draw attention to how believers can receive blessings from God.
There is a scripture in Hebrews 11:5 that “By faith Enoch was translated that he should not see death; and was not found, because God had translated him: and before his translation, he had this testimony that he pleased God”.
This clearly shows that in order to receive blessings from God, you must please God. How can one please God? You can only please God by obeying him and walking in line with God’s word. Just like how children who obey their parents, enjoy special treatment, so does God deal with his children who obey his word.
There are ways by which people receive blessings from God and holiness is an important criteria in the whole equation. Holiness is a process and not a one day event.
It is a mindset borne out of walking in obedience to God’s instructions i.e. his word. In order to have a mindset of living to please God, requires studying God’s word coupled with praying and fasting.
This helps us to develop trust in God by knowing his nature, what he likes and dislikes. This is what will enable us to live to please him and for our faith in him also to increase.
The Bible says in Hebrews 11:6 that “But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him”
Fasting is one of the required criteria for blessings to be released and it goes with prayer because fasting without prayer is just a physical exercise. Fasting enables a person’s inner man to be in tune with the spirit of God and also becomes spiritually empowered to hear from God and also obey God.
Fasting enables a person’s spirit to feed on God’s word in a much more focused manner as compared to studying God’s word in normal times. As a result our spirit gains the upper hand to dominate the body and the soul, so that we are more conscious of the presence of God in our lives which causes us willingly the desire to live to obey God.
Holiness which is a prerequisite for pleasing God, can only manifest in our lives if we are able to overcome the desires of the flesh and this only happens when the flesh is subject to the spirit.
Apostle Paul said that “But l keep under my body, and bring it into subjection: lest that by any means when I have preached to others, I myself should not be castaway”, according to 1 Corinthians 9:27.
In order to bring the body or flesh into subjection so that believers will be able to live to please God, we have to study, God’s word in a certain state of mind which fasting and prayer appropriately provides.
Our minds are the battle grounds for decisions that either please God or the Devil. In order to please God so his blessings can be released upon our lives, we must continuously engage our minds with thoughts that is in line with God’s word.
Philippians 4:8 says that “Finally Brethren whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue and if there be any praise, think on these things”. May God help us to live to please him by meditating on things that please the Lord, so we shall be blessed in all aspects of our lives. God bless.
NB: ‘CHANGE KOTOKA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT TO KOFI BAAKO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT’
By Laud Kissi-Mensah
