Features
Of professionals and good living
Smiling black woman speaking on smartphone in office
Today, everybody is a professional or claims to be. As such watch repairers, waakye sellers, dog-chain peddlers, way-side preacher men, armed robbers, among others, now call themselves professionals and go away scot free.
In similar manner, we have people who call themselves professional unemployed, and professional students, whatever that means. I’m often surprised why doctors, journalists, teachers and lawyers do not protest.
I am however, tempted to believe that the true professionals are silently protesting by refusing to call themselves professionals because they cannot be unequally yoked with non-professionals who are fighting day and night to appropriate the appellation for themselves.
When ‘professionals’ in the costume of grave-looters, chop-bar operators and city magicians decide to leave Sikaman to work for ‘bread and butter’ in Namibia, Syria or West Germany (better known as Jaamani), there is usually no cause for alarm. Even in certain quarters, their exit is very welcome since certain social problems like burglary, prostitution and unemployment are minimised when they flock away. Also, there will be less mouths to feed. Times are hard!
In polar-opposite stance to this, there is always a hue and cry when recognised professionals, especially doctors and teachers start talking about colour televisions, deep- freezers, video-decks, and portable cars, all of which could be obtained in countries where gold is supposed to be lining street pavements.
In the 70’s, Nigeria (Agege) was the action spot from where even construction- labourers could return home flaunting two- in-one tape recorders, sweet-smelling toilet-soap, economy-size Omo packets, track-suits, black-and-white television sets and many more. Some even came with Lagosian wives and their Yoruba children trailing behind them, grinning happily to be in Sikaman.
In those days it was the teachers who quickly detected the oil-boom. Having got to Nigeria, some even decided to abandon the profession to slave in any menial job if only that could bring in Naira for show in Sikaman.
In the heat of the mass exodus, our classrooms were abandoned while teachers joined the Agege-train. The situation became a national problem as pupils could hardly spell their own names.
Meanwhile, Nigerian classrooms became filled with trained teachers from Sikaman. It was only when Ali Baba (then Nigeria Interior Minister) decided that enough was enough that Sikaman exiles started crying back home. Incidentally, the reputed land of milk-and-honey was not what it used to be. Nigerians had their own problems to solve.
Quite recently, teachers attempted another professional uprising when they started heading for Zambia which many described as the newly-found pasture. Then came the Namibia independence. Sikaman dwellers immediately equated independence with prosperity and began making plans to go and partake of the wealth. Many did go and surely got frustrated. Many were also duped and are still nursing the pain.
Day in day out, intellectuals keep seeking greener pastures. However, some teachers and other professionals who are patriotic enough to stay are making extra incomes by engaging themselves as susu collectors, backyard gardeners, poultry farmers, lotto forecasters, etc. If these are lucrative side- lines, one wonders why there is still the rush to go away to slug it out in strange and at times hostile environment.
The ‘hustle’ in Sikaman is not cheap. However, my colleague BABA ABDULAI, who says he has graduated from the college of the streets with a Doctor of Philosophy degree (PhD) in how to make ends meet, is a native who knows how to survive in hard times without going to Namibia.
Unlike Baba Abdulai, doctors in the golden territory are unable to bear the ‘weather,’ and it is quite disheartening when we hear that many of them are leaving to the United Kingdom, United States, Saudi Arabia and even South Africa.
To some people, this is quite understandable since they contend that some doctors do not want to stay on and be tempted to make ends meet by running abortion clinics. More so, it would be quite difficult for a doctor to work part-time as a city-magician or lotto professor. At least, that is what my pal, Samuel Akwador, of Tema site 14, observes. According to him, the medical profession is a noble one.
The exodus of doctors began way back in 1983. In 1988/89 it became a national headache as they flocked away like cattle- egrets dodging the winter. Today, the doctor-patient ratio is 1:13,000. This means, for every 13,000 people there is only one doctor to do the diagnoses and treatment. This is very alarming because health is indispensable to national development. Indeed, when teachers are running away to other countries it is not as serious as when doctors are packing their stethoscopes and medical brains into briefcases and trotting to the airport. We need the doctors here and something radical must be done to keep them here.
The reasons why our doctors do not want to stay are too obvious to state here. I hear the authorities have taken certain positive steps to make them comfortable. But it appears the doctors want to be VERY comfortable. They want furnished apartments, videos, refrigerators, gas-cookers, portable cars and everything that adds to making a comfortable living.
Somehow, the government can help them in a way, but of course only to the point it can afford to. It is my suggestion that a hire-purchase system be instituted, through which doctors can obtain all the niceties of modern living without first having to pay the huge down-payments demanded by certain hire-purchase outfits. Immediately deposits are demanded for these items, like the 35per cent demanded by some, the very idea takes off as a non-starter.
In addition, the payment for these items must be spread over relatively long periods so that doctors do not feel the pinch when it comes to the economy of take-home pays.
Doctors must, however, be a little patriotic to bear with the situation. Everyone realises that their conditions of service are not too good, and that is why they do not accept postings to the rural areas, for instance. But since no one is living too cosy either, we hope that they will also stay and help build the nation. A little sacrifice will do the trick.
THE journalist is a hunter. He goes after human rats and grasscutters personified, matters about whom he can salt and spice and present as news. The fatter and juicier the catch, the better, because sensation is essentially our cup of tea.
Our job is to sell news and sell it in grand style.
Because the journalist is a hunter and is created with a special kind of nose for sniffing out news, he is usually not welcome in many places. He is seen as someone who has been born to make people uncomfortable.
The problem is that some people don’t want things written about them even if it is promotional and favourable. When it entails publishing their pictures alongside the story, they are doubly scared.
“Please, don’t use my picture. People will think I’ve got money and come for loan,” someone told me.
Anyhow, journalists are seen as intruders, undesirables, born with plenty of okro in the mouth; maybe some also in the nose. Some of my friends are no longer too close because they fear I’d give them full coverage in the Sikaman Palava column. Ha ha ha! What a funny world!
Well, people like my Uncle, Sir Kofi Jogolo, my former classmate and born-mathematician, Kwame Korkorti, and ex-football star cum human-salamander Kofi Kokotako don’t mind featuring in the hilarious inches of this column. Kofi Owuo alias Death By Poverty is one personality who has to be mentioned in this palaver.
These are people who are going to live long, primarily because they see the world as one big ball of fun. When Kwame Korkorti was told that his dear mother was dead at home, he smiled and asked the bearer of the message whether his mother had cooked the afternoon meal before claiming she was dead. Until her death, Korkorti ate his lunch at his mother’s end.
When my Uncle Kofi Jogolo was picked and lost 1,500 dollars and a good amount of Sikaman currency, he didn’t lament the loss. Instead he was amused. In fact, he was almost glad about it, because he grinned from ear to ear, stroked his delicate moustache and congratulated the thief, adding that “He is smarter than I am.” Yeah, Jogolo is the man who employs a Swedish barber to trim his moustache.
And when Kofi Kokotako was unemployed and was nearly hit by an articulated truck, he called the driver a fool. “The idiot should have killed me,” he said to me. “Didn’t he know I was unemployed and suffering?”
Today, Kokotako is employed as a Reverend and is not doing badly at all. Thanks to the regular silver collection.
And what about Kofi Owuo, the celebrated poor man. His wife left him not because he was poor, but because he swore in front of her that he would never prosper.
The following dawn the wife packed bag and baggage and went back to her parents and told them all about her husband’s alliance with poverty. Her parents were bewildered and called the alliance unholy. They had no option than to send back Owuo’s drinks to end the marriage.
Kofi Owuo alias Death By Poverty did not contest the issue. He was more engrossed thinking about how to become poorer than to contest what he called a frivolous matter. The wife could go to hell, he said. These are people longevity smiles upon. Nothing worries them.
Getting back to talking about journalists. I’d say that anywhere there is journalism, the issue of press freedom is not too far away. Is the press free? That’s one question foreigners want answer to when they are on visit.
Well, journalists celebrate a yearly WORLD PRESS FREEDOM DAY to drum home the idea of press freedom as a very important thing in the practice of journalism.
This year’s was celebrated almost a fortnight ago but people didn’t see much of us because we are normally not good celebrants. We should have mounted a float to roam the entire capital, dancing asaboni to brass band music just like PTC did recently.
Although journalists are known to be very good dancers because they walk very much, on that day, they were all busy writing. It was the Minister of Information, Mr Kofi Totobi Quakyi who saved the day by addressing a forum organised to mark the day.
He is a man I’ve always admired since his radical university days. He spoke much on press freedom, cautioning the press not to abuse the freedom granted by the Fourth Republican constitution, but to use it for the progress of society.
Well, press freedom has been defined by many journalists as the freedom to ‘write nonsense’. This definition is not quite accurate. I asked one staff reporter to define press freedom. It took him fifteen minutes to put up something.
“Press freedom is the freedom that is enjoyed by the press that enables journalists to publish or broadcast any kind of material so long as it is absolutely true, is not libelous and slanderous, and is not against the national interest.”
I gave him eight out of 10, a straight A. I guess every journalist is old enough to know that certain things he or she writes is for or against the national interest. We certainly must guard against writing against the national interest; that is very important.
There is also the question of criticising government. The government can be criticized, so long as the criticisms are genuine and the President and his ministers are not insulted and called names. Let us criticize, but let us do it decently so that the journalistic profession can be revered, and its nobility acknowledged. We are not war mongers, are we?
One area in which journalists are not spoken well of is the complaint that they misquote people. Journalists sometimes misquote people, but in four out of five complaints it turns out that nobody is misquoted after all.
When we interview people they say things unreservedly and we publish unreservedly. When the publication is out and their friends or superiors read it and accuse them of having said too much to the press, then they start claiming they were misquoted.
We have encountered these ‘misquotation palaver’ every now and then and reporters are usually accused of this transgression. However, when they bring out their note-books or recorders, it is realised that they wrote nothing out of the way. “Book no lie”.
My advice to people who deal with the press is that if they do not want anything written, they shouldn’t say it. What they want to say is OFF-RECORD, then of course, there is no reason to say it. When you say it, you’re taking a risk. In that instance, you can’t also claim to have been misquoted or words put into your mouth.
And it isn’t every journalist who would be circumspect in matters that are supposed to be off-record, because journalists often want to be as sensational as possible to make their stories saleable. So say just what you want to see published and you won’t later regret it and claim you were misquoted.
Well, I’m not holding brief for journalists, because a few of us are notorious for colouring our reports sometimes sand-papering the words so much that they look very bright in front of readers.
As I once said, when the police tells one such notorious pressman that the thief stole a brown goat, the pressman would want to know whether the goat was bearded. Of course, the police would say ‘Yes’.
However, in the press report, it appears, “A gang of notorious goat-thieves were apprehended in the early hours of yesterday. In the car in which they were riding was a brownish-red goat having a long beard. Upon further examination, it was realised that the goat also had a greyish moustache.”
When the story appears, the police are naturally disturbed. A single thief turns out to be a gang of thieves. The goat also becomes a chameleon and changes colour to brownish-red. And a moustacheless goat overnight wears a greyish moustache whether you like it or not. Luckily the journalist does not add that the moustache was trimmed by a Swedish barber.
Yes, we have a few of such mischief-creating, chronically notorious journalists. But they are one in a hundred. In any case, we make the world. And we shall always do our best to make it a happy place to live in.
This article was first publish on Saturday, May, 20, 1995
When I hear of people who are of the opinion that they cannot make it in life unless they travel abroad, l become sad.
Whenever I see on TV, news of people, that is migrants who have drowned in the Mediterranean Sea, while attempting to cross to Europe, l become filled with sadness and then anger.
The underlying factor is desperation born out of loss of hope, in life. When an individual tends to believe that his only hope of making it in life is to travel abroad, the risk of dying at sea, does not deter him or her.
The role of some pastors on shaping the mindset of people, especially the youth, leaves much to be desired. You hear them declaring on various media platforms how they can pray for you to get a visa to travel abroad, instead of encouraging them to find something to do to improve their lives as the Bible teaches that God will bless the work of their hands.
The GREATER WORKS CONFERENCE is geared towards renewing the minds of people with a specific focus on people of African descent to rid themselves of the negative perception of lack of capacity to excel in life.
Pastor Mensa Otabil believes that every human being, no matter the skin colour, was created in the exact image of God and therefore has the capacity to do exploits.
The whiteman was not created in the image of God while the Blackman was created in the image of something other than God. The Black person therefore can achieve whatever the whiteman can achieve.
The development in terms of industrialisation that is lacking which has generated unemployment for the youth, is due to lack of effective leadership. The lack of moral integrity in society, is what is causing the lack of job opportunities, which is as a result of corrupt acts which drive away private investment.
A culture of inferiority complex exists which needs to be dealt with, so the African can develop the self worth necessary for personal development which can then result in capacity deployment to avhieve personal goals.
Success in life begins with the individual’s recognition that he or she is capable of achieving the dreams he or she has conceived in his or her mind. The Bible teaches that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the holy is understanding according to Proverbs 9:10.
Christianity was the driving force behind the development of Europe because no society can sustain development without high moral values. GREATER WORKS therefore is a deliberate project to shape the minds of people, especially the youth, who will become the leaders of our future, to prioritise morality in their daily lives.
This is the only way to see a massive transformation in every aspect of our lives as Ghanaians and Africans in Ghana and the rest of the continent.
Since the inception of the GREATOR WORKS CONFERENCE, it has made a lot of impact in the lives of many people from the youth up to the senior citizens level. I recall the testimony of a church member who was motivated and pursued higher education and became one of the youngest Chartered Accountants in this country. Year after year, the impact of the conference has been enormous and lives in Ghana and across the continent, are being transformed.
Black people have started regaining their self confidence and the youth have started getting into areas that previously were considered out of bounds. At a personal level, certain ideas that some years ago, l would have not dreamt about suddenly has become realistic dreams.
The Christian lifestyle has impacted on my children and those close to me. Mindset change starts with one individual, then another and then gradually it spreads like a viral infection until a critical mass is attained and them a massive impact. There is hope for the future.
By Laud Kissi-Mensah
