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.
Features
Tears of Ghanaman, home and abroad
The typical native of Sikaman is by nature a hospitable creature, a social animal with a big heart, a soul full of the milk of earthly goodness, and a spirit too loving for its own comfort.
Ghanaman hosts a foreign pal and he spends a fortune to make him very happy and comfortable-good food, clean booze, excellent accommodation and a woman for the night.
Sometimes the pal leaves without saying a “thank you but Ghanaman is not offended. He’d host another idiot even more splendidly. His nature is warm, his spirit benevolent. That is the typical Ghanaian and no wonder that many African-Americans say, “If you haven’t visited Ghana. Then you’ve not come to Africa.
You can even enter the country without a passport and a visa and you’ll be welcomed with a pot of palm wine.
If Ghanaman wants to go abroad, especially to an European country or the United States, it is often after an ordeal.
He has to doze in a queue at dawn at the embassy for days and if he is lucky to get through to being interviewed, he is confronted by someone who claims he or she has the power of discerning truth from lie.
In short Ghanaman must undergo a lie-detector test and has to answer questions that are either nonsensical or have no relevance to the trip at hand. When Joseph Kwame Korkorti wanted a visa to an European country, the attache studied Korkorti’s nose for a while and pronounced judgment.
“The way I see you, you won’t return to Ghana if I allow you to go. Korkorti nearly dislocated her jaw; Kwasiasem akwaakwa. In any case what had Korkorti’s nose got to do with the trip?
If Ghanaman, after several attempts, manages to get the visa and lands in the whiteman’s land, he is seen as another monkey uptown, a new arrival of a degenerate ape coming to invade civilized society. He is sneered at, mocked at and avoided like a plague. Some landlords abroad will not hire their rooms to blacks because they feel their presence in itself is bad business.
When a Sikaman publisher landed overseas and was riding in a public bus, an urchin who had the impudence and notoriety of a dead cockroach told his colleagues he was sure the black man had a tail which he was hiding in his pair of trousers. He didn’t end there. He said he was in fact going to pull out the tail for everyone to see.
True to his word he went and put his hand into the backside of the bewildered publisher, intent on grabbing his imaginary tail and pulling it out. It took a lot of patience on the part of the publisher to avert murder. He practically pinned the white miscreant on the floor by the neck and only let go when others intervene. Next time too…
The way we treat our foreign guests in comparison with the way they treat us is polar contrasting-two disparate extremes, one totally incomparable to the other. They hound us for immigration papers, deport us for overstaying and skinheads either target homes to perpetrate mayhem or attack black immigrants to gratify their racial madness
When these same people come here we accept them even more hospitably than our own kin. They enter without visas, overstay, impregnate our women and run away.
About half of foreigners in this country do not have valid resident permits and was not a bother until recently when fire was put under the buttocks of the Immigration Service
In fact, until recently I never knew Sikaman had an Immigration Service. The problem is that although their staff look resplendent in their green outfit, you never really see them anywhere. You’d think they are hidden from the public eye.
The first time I saw a group of them walking somewhere, I nearly mistook them for some sixth-form going to the library. Their ladies are pretty though.
So after all, Sikaman has an Immigration Service which I hear is now alert 24 hours a day tracking down illegal aliens and making sure they bound the exit via Kotoka International. A pat on their shoulder.
I am glad the Interior Ministry has also realised that the country has been too slack about who goes out or comes into Sikaman.
Now the Ministry has warned foreigners not to take the country’s commitment to its obligations under the various conditions as a sign of weakness or a source for the abuse of her hospitality.
“Ghana will not tolerate any such abuse,” Nii Okaija Adamafio, the Interior Minister said, baring his teeth and twitching his little moustache. He was inaugurating the Ghana Refugee and Immigration Service Boards.
He said some foreigners come in as tourists, investors, consultants, skilled workers or refugees. Others come as ‘charlatans, adventurers or plain criminals. “
Yes, there are many criminals among them. Our courts have tried a good number of them for fraud and misconduct.
It is time we welcome only those who would come and invest or tour and go back peacefully and not those whose criminal intentions are well-hidden but get exposed in due course of time.
This article was first published on Saturday March 14, 1998
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Features
Decisions have consequences
In this world, it is always important to recognise that every action or decision taken, has consequences.
It can result in something good or bad, depending on the quality of the decision, that is, the factors that were taken into account in the decision making.
The problem with a bad decision is that, in some instances, there is no opportunity to correct the result even though you have regretted the decision, which resulted in the unpleasant outcome.
This is what a friend of mine refers to as having regretted an unregretable regret. After church last Sunday, I was watching a programme on TV and a young lady was sharing with the host, how a bad decision she took, had affected her life immensely and adversely.
She narrated how she met a Caucasian and she got married to him. The white man arranged for her to join him after the marriage and processes were initiated for her to join her husband in UK. It took a while for the requisite documentation to be procured and during this period, she took a decision that has haunted her till date.
According to her narration, she met a man, a Ghanaian, who she started dating, even though she was a married woman.
After a while her documents were ready and so she left to join her husband abroad without breaking off the unholy relationship with the man from Ghana.
After she got to UK, this man from Ghana, kept pressuring her to leave the white man and return to him in Ghana. The white man at some point became a bit suspicious and asked about who she has been talking on the phone with for long spells, and she lied to him that it was her cousin.
Then comes the shocker. After the man from Ghana had sweet talked her continuously for a while, she decided to leave her husband and return to Ghana after only three weeks abroad.
She said, she asked the guy to swear to her that he would take care of both her and her mother and the guy swore to take good care of her and her mother as well as rent a 3-bedroom flat for her. She then took the decision to leave her husband and return to Ghana.
She told her mum that she was returning to Ghana to marry the guy in Ghana. According to her, her mother vigorously disagreed with her decision and wept.
She further added that her mum told her brother and they told her that they were going to tell her husband about her intentions.
According to her, she threatened that if they called her husband to inform him, then she would commit suicide, an idea given to her by the boyfriend in Ghana.
Her mum and brother afraid of what she might do, agreed not to tell her husband. She then told her husband that she was returning to Ghana to attend her Grandmother’s funeral.
The husband could not understand why she wanted to go back to Ghana after only three weeks stay so she had to lie that in their tradition, grandchildren are required to be present when the grandmother dies and is to be buried.
She returned to Ghana; the flat turns into a chamber and hall accommodation, the promise to take care of her mother does not materialise and generally she ends up furnishing the accommodation herself. All the promises given her by her boyfriend, turned out to be just mere words.
A phone the husband gave her, she left behind in UK out of guilty conscience knowing she was never coming back to UK.
Through that phone and social media, the husband found out about his boyfriend and that was the end of her marriage.
Meanwhile, things have gone awry here in Ghana and she had regretted and at a point in her narration, was trying desperately to hold back tears. Decisions indeed have consequences.
NB: ‘CHANGE KOTOKA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT TO KOFI BAAKO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT’
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