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Palaver of the busy policeman
I GUESS to become a very good cop master, one must have the patience to listen to plenty of nonsense without feeling dizzy. That is why I advised a policeman friend to eat four balls of Ga kenkey every morning to cope with the job. He has taken my advice, and each morning, you can see him walking like a ball of kenkey.
The complaints come in many forms and ramifications. A husband who can’t take his wife’s nagging any longer bursts into the charge office fuming with red eyes and promptly declares that his wife is in danger. Asked to give details, he says that he has well-rehearsed plans to slap the woman with such horse-power that she’d get brain damage if she doesn’t fall into coma.
Asked to give further details, he says, his wife has been nagging him for 17 years now about frivolous matters including akpeteshie drinking, although he has told her there is no way he can stop drinking the stuff. In short, he is lodging a complaint to precede the domestic revolutionary action, which he believes can be comparable to the Iranian Ayatollah revolution.
The disgruntled husband then proceeds to define what a revolution is and elucidates on the different types of revolutions. By the time he ends his complaint, he has told his life history in perfect detail, beginning from where and when he was born.
If the policeman is not patient he cannot listen to such a complaint. But it is in listening that he can diagnose whether the complainant is merely suffering from a hangover or has a genuine case to contest.
Anyhow, the wife must be invited to give her version of the domestic palaver. But it is not in her nature to go straight to point. God forbid! She must give the account in such an elaborate manner to make it plausible, to portray her husband as Satan personified. Such an account must be bombastic in nature, alliterative in content, and proverbial in style.
But she must begin by driving home the point that she is from a royal family, quite similar to the circumstances of Lady Diana, and must be regarded as such. If the policeman says the point is irrelevant and, therefore, not germane to the case at hand, she insist that it is relevant, even pertinent to the case. And she’d prove why.
Before the policeman gets to listen to the real case 45 minutes has elapsed. And the real case. “My husband is the worst form of idiot you can find worldwide. He is a fool, he is a hopeless man, he’s a damn fool. In a nutshell, he is not normal…”
The policeman will raise a point of order and remind her that the forum isn’t for delivering abusive missiles but to solve a matter amicably so that husband can go back home hand-in-hand.
Wahalla
Finally, the woman, in boring detail will preach a litany of her husband’s misconduct and transgression which border on alcoholic predilections, chopmoney wahalla, extra-time demands for sex, total neglect of the children, kola chewing, common smoking, insulting of mothers-in-law, whatever.
By the time she is half-way through, the policeman is no longer listening. Instead he’d be dozing, on the verge of snoring away.
In conclusion, the woman would swear that she has no patience for a man with so many problems and that is prepared for a divorce. If the divorce isn’t granted, she’d leave the children and run away so that the husband would learn sense.
At this point, the policeman comes to realise that he is dealing with exceptional couples who can talk for 24 hours non-stop and require more time to conclude. So he must not allow any of the parties to cross examine the other, otherwise, he’d lose stamina and run out of gas, despite eating four balls of kenkey early in the morning.
He must proceed to counsel the couple, pointing it out to them that their basic problem is that they talk too much for comfort. If they could talk less and concentrate on the solution of their problems, they’d be making a headway. Divorce may not be the answer. Life-long marriage demands mutual love and understanding. Case close! The couples go back home fuming and the policeman can breathe easily now. Too much tension to begin with!
Salute
He must now walk around and stretch his muscles. He walks outside the charge office yawning and is confronted by a laughing lunatic. He salutes the policeman.
Go away from here,” the officer orders promptly.
“Go away to where?” the mad man enquires. “I’ve come to lodge a complaint. I want you to go and arrest the government. From morning till now, I’ve not eaten yor ke gari. It’s not fair to me.”
After handling the crazy fellow’s complaint, a furious woman almost bounds into him. She has come to lodge a complaint that her next-door neighbour is fond of looking into her soup pot whenever she is preparing soup. This is her last warning, she swears.
Another comes to complain that a neighbour’s child has defecated all over her veranda and the mother is not willing to scrub off the green stomach matter.
The last ludicrous complaint a young woman of about 35 made to a police officer was about a fortnight ago. She had come to complain about a man who presented himself to her as a burgher from Germany. He promised to marry her and she obliged. The man promised to give her some dollars, so she allowed him to have sex with her so many times even when she was not in the mood for it. “The man likes the thing too much,” she lamented.
The last time they met, the man folded a GH¢500 note and tucked it into her palm when she went to see him off at night. She thought it was 100 dollars. She got home and realised that it was common GH¢500. She had since not seen the man. She was depressed and wanted to know from the cop whether the man could be jailed for the “offence”, coming to realise that the man was not a burgher after all?
The policeman was amused. “As for this one, please go and solve it yourself,” he said. “I tire!”
This article was first published on Saturday September 19, 1998
Public awareness campaigns have successfully cast breast cancer into the global spotlight, typically framed through a uniform lens of pink ribbons, early detection drives and triumphant stories of survival. While these initiatives have driven vital mammography compliance and research funding, they often perpetuate a sanitised narrative. Beneath the polished public messaging lie complex, less-discussed clinical realities and emotional burdens that patients, families and healthcare providers must navigate long after the initial medical milestones have passed.
Moving towards an honest discourse
Acknowledging these untold truths does not diminish the incredible advancements achieved in modern oncology; rather, it humanises the patient experience. Expanding our cultural understanding beyond the simplistic “warrior” trope allows for deeper institutional support, better long-term medical management and genuine empathy for the lifelong journey of survivorship.
When people see breast cancer in movies or awareness campaigns, they usually see a neat story: someone gets diagnosed, goes through treatment, rings a celebration bell and goes right back to normal.
In real life, the journey is much more complicated. Let us break down five “hidden truths” about breast cancer using everyday examples.
Truth 1: The “Post-Treatment Cliff” (Life after treatment)
What it means: Everyone thinks that once medical treatments, such as surgery or chemotherapy, are over, the patient instantly returns to their old self. In reality, that is when a whole new set of challenges begins.
The example: Imagine finishing a gruelling uphill marathon. You cross the finish line, but your legs are still shaking, you are exhausted, and everyone else goes home while you are left trying to recover. Many survivors deal with long-term side effects, such as constant tiredness, numbness in their fingers or swelling, called lymphoedema, for years.
Truth 2: Catching it early is great, but not a magic shield
What it means: Early detection saves lives, but some types of cancer are so aggressive that even a small tumour can behave like a runaway train.
The example: Think of weeds in a garden. If you spot a weed early, you can usually pull it right out. But certain aggressive “weeds” spread seeds everywhere or grow roots so fast that even finding them early does not stop them from trying to pop up somewhere else later.
Truth 3: The long, hard marathon of daily pills
What it means: For many survivors whose cancer is hormone-receptor-positive, treatment does not stop when surgery ends. They may have to take hormone-blocking pills every day for five to ten years.
The example: These daily pills act like security guards keeping the enemy away, but they can also bring troublesome side effects, such as joint stiffness, sudden hot flashes or weakened bones. Because of this, taking the medication can feel like a daily chore that reminds patients of the cancer for a decade.
Truth 4: People we forget about (Men and young adults)
What it means: Public campaigns often focus on older women. Because of this, other groups affected by breast cancer may be caught off guard.
The example: Men can develop breast cancer, too, because they are born with a small amount of breast tissue. However, because some men think it is a “women’s disease”, they may ignore an unusual lump in their chest for months, resulting in a later diagnosis. Young adults under 40 face a different shock, having to worry about fertility, having children and career interruptions right in the middle of building their lives.
Truth 5: The hidden price tag (Financial stress)
What it means: A medical diagnosis brings a heavy second burden: financial strain.
The example: Even with good health insurance, additional costs can pile up quickly, including specialised scans, genetic testing, expensive prescription drugs and taking weeks or months off work to recover. It can feel like dealing with two crises at the same time: trying to heal the body while worrying about bills.
Talking about these harder truths does not mean we should not celebrate survivors. It simply means we need to understand the real, full picture of what people go through.
By Robert Ekow Grimmond-Thompson
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As soon as a married man becomes infected with the he-goat mentality, he is bound to forget that he has a wife.
It is often a tragedy because he can completely lose focus and generally start misbehaving. He considers his wife a headache, at best a pain in the neck.
The man has got a new girlfriend and is excited. And when he sees his wife, he wonders what she is doing in his home. Maybe she is only a stray dog in need of shelter. And Jesus Christ, won’t she just keep out of the way?
The married man who has gone into extramarital affairs is half the time engaged in mindless fantasy. He is engrossed in devising many ways to please his newfound lover. And if the girl is explosive in bed, the fantasy could spiral into the fourth dimension.
It could be that his wife is basically an “old layer” who can no longer take him to the heavens and back. The girlfriend, however, can take him on a trip into space, meandering through the galaxy of stars, down the Milky Way. It can be an experience of a lifetime.
Normally, after such a trip, the married man will forget that he even has a home and children. He becomes a fugitive.
What he needs is deliverance. So his wife will go to the pastor and tell him that her husband has developed very strange symptoms.
First, the man is behaving practically like a he-goat, sniffing desperately after young women. Secondly, he cannot find his way back home.
The pastor is likely to diagnose the ailment on the spot. He does not need to conduct a blood test to offer a prognosis. “It is the spirit of lust,” the man of God will say. “The Lord is in control.”
Sometimes prayers are effective, and the man heads back home. For very curious reasons, he remembers that he had lost his way. So he returns to his family, wondering what might have been happening to him. So long!
Other times, prayer worsens the case. It is not that the prayers are not being answered. God has only given the lecherous bloke a long rope on his own balls. It is as if the prayers drive him further and further away from the world of reason. For as long as three years, his soul is restless. It is in bondage!
The man forgets that the young girl he has been riding will one day marry and leave him in the cold. That day will surely come.
Now, when a married man is jilted by his girlfriend, he remembers that he has a wife. He had almost forgotten that he went and wedded a woman and called her his wife.
The jilted man will lick his wounds and trace his way back home. His wife would wonder whether he had lost his way. Anyhow, she will welcome him back home.
He becomes the loving husband he once was, and his wife is amazed. What might have happened to her man? Was he struck on the way to Damascus? Or on his way back?
When the man is sober, he will decide to calculate how much he has spent on that useless girl who said she was going to get married to some equally useless cockroach.
He realises that, in the short span of sexual enjoyment and extramarital bliss, he has lost all his lifetime savings, enough to build two-storey buildings.
Last Saturday, some youths who distinguished themselves in various endeavours were awarded at an excellence awards ceremony.
The males should always have it at the back of their minds that chasing women is what brings down both the weak and the strong, the poor and the rich, the lettered and the unlettered.
This article was first published on Saturday, August 26, 2006.
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