Features
Palaver of the past (1)
A national weekly newspaper does not often disappear from the news-stands. So when the Weekly Spectator was not seen on the stands for a couple of weeks, many probably thought the Editor had gone on a honeymoon.
If it had been a private newspaper, one would have guessed that the publisher had gone bankrupt after using the capital together with the profits to chase a beautiful fair-coloured girl.
In any case, the ‘Spectator’ is back on the stands, and as is customary of Sikaman Palava, a review of the past year must always precede current palaver. The past year was very interesting and political. There were some unpleasantries too when people were being roasted for being of a certain political breed.
Early in the year, however, news reaching the territory had it that punk youths were attacking refugee centres and black homes in Germany, meaning that Ghanaian hustlers were probably in some kind of trouble.
Sikaman Palava defined who a hustler is in an article headed HUSTLERS IN THE COLD.
“In Sikaman, if you are not lucky to be born into a well-to-do family, it means you are a hustler by birth. Right from the very onset, it becomes very difficult for your mum to feed you on Lactogen or Cerelac, to make you grow like a normal human being and not like a guinea-pig. So because she cannot afford it, you have to subsist on koko and use the breast-milk as dessert.
“Sooner than anyone would expect, your mother will start pushing banku into your tiny mouth ‘by force… Before you are six months of age, you’ve already started chewing hard plantain like a savage. With that as a major meal you are sure to develop kwashiorkor which means that you’ll have a well- defined pot-belly. So you become a small boy millionaire.”
This is how the hustling begins and one ends up in Germany washing plates to make money while being at the mercy of skin-heads who are armed with guns, knives, clubs and anything that can teach a black- man that Europe is not his ancestral home.
The political game began in earnest when my uncle Kofi Jogolo was about to be chosen as the presidential candidate of a newly-formed party. In fact they elected him because of his charismatic moustache and by the fact that he sneezes like Bill Clinton.
“No doubt that he was chosen to lead a very popular party. With such a piece of moustache, trimmed thrice a week by a Swedish barber who is paid in dollars, there was no way Jogolo could not have headed the party.”
There were many people aspiring to become the next president of the Republic of Ghana. “You’ll see them in many colours and shades. Some are called Sikaman natives, but they are not qualified to be called such because they’ve stayed abroad eating hotdogs, hamburger, pork sandwiches and American suya. And they are around town with smiling faces to contest the presidency.
Soon began the game of political nonsense. “The devil is a politician. It has always been the leader of the opposition against the Kingdom of God. The devil, known in private life as Mr James Lucifer, is the author of the Satanic Manifesto and the inventor of hunger in Somalia.”
PASTIME
The devil also tells lies. “According to Kwame Korkorti the Council Korti, every politician tells an average of 38 lies a day- …Lying in politics has become a hobby, indeed an enjoyable pastime. What about intrigues and treachery? I hear it is going to be a game of embarrassments using facts, figures and lies; and everybody is waiting for the honourable Flight Lieutenant to declare his intentions before the game can really start.”
And the game really did start. In my article head- lined THE PALAVER OF STONE THROWING, I wrote, “When all were in doubt, it was Kokotako who prophesied that the Flight Lieutenant will be the presidential candidate of NDC, and that someone freshman too will aim a large stone at his head and miss the target “He had by not less than 30 metres.
“True to the prophesy, an idiot did aim a stone that crashed into the side-glass of one of the vehicles in the convoy that was returning from Apam. Apparently the person who did the throwing was not a marksman because the head of His Excellency was longitudes away from where the stone landed… In any case, the attempt is a dastardly one that must be condemned in no uncertain terms…
“Professor Adu Boahen of Kukrudu fame, I hear, also had a little showdown with some school children at Akatsi or Anfoega in the Volta Region. In spite another of the fact that he had written history books for the kids to learn to gain knowledge, they apparently did not like the Kukrudu slogan and therefore sought to sack the history pundit from their territory. I think that area had already been colonised by the Akatamanso politicians, so it seemed to the children that Adu Boahen was trespassing…
“Perhaps, he did not pour libation to the gods of Eweland before embarking on the journey to go and preach to the people the political philosophy behind the word Kukrudu. But I must say that such reception to political campaigners is not commendable.”
I then cautioned with special reference to the stone-throwers, “To prevent violence, heads of political parties should undertake the task of admonishing their supporters to eschew violence, because when you throw a stone at somebody, next time someone will not throw a stone at you, but boulder. The person whose head you hit with a stone will continue to live, but when a boulder lands square on your head, it is most likely you’ll live to witness the handing over ceremony on January 7.
Because of the nature of the politics during those days, many homes witnessed turbulent times. Under the heading CALM AND THE BITTER LES- SONS, Sikaman Palaver revealed:
“Since the ban on politics was lifted, many homes have been on fire. Some men have even stopped giving chop money because they consider their wives as politically mad. If for instance the man tried to make the point that akatamanso will bring prosperity, the wife will insist that kukrudu is rather the way to heaven.
POLITICAL VISION
“…A man will growl at his wife like an underfed lion: “In the name of the elephant which has political vi- sion, I’ve placed a ban on the use of umbrellas in this house. I swear by my grandfather’s hernia that if you do not comply I’ll turn your neck’.”
People were not only concerned about politics during 1992. Accidents had occurred the previous year and there was the need to introduce road safety awareness throughout the country, a task which was undertaken by Meridian Tobacco Co. Ltd which organised a Safe Driver competition.
Sikaman Palava acknowledged their efforts. “Whenever I board a vehicle, the first thing I always want to look at is the driver’s head. If the head is un-kempt, it means he is a careless fellow. If he has normal haircut, finely combed, it means I’m quite safe. If he wears punk, it probably means that he doesn’t have a driving license and is therefore a potential killer.
“When the driver is, however, a sakora, then I’m always prepared for anything including death. The whole palaver is that when a sakora man is at the wheels and is driving at about 90 kilometres per hour, there is every likelihood that the breeze circumnavigating about his naked head will make him feel like having his siesta.”
For sure, when driving at top speed while taking siesta can be the most dangerous risk imaginable.
Meridian Tobacco Company identified the various reasons why road accidents were rampant. A safe driver competition in 1991 and 1992 has brought a great measure of safe driving awareness from which the country has benefited.
As the year 1992 gradually wore on, politicians entertained high hopes and wishes upon which Sikaman Palava commented in an article titled ‘POLITICAL HOPES AND WISHES.’
“The funny thing about elections is that no contestant ever believes he’d lose until the final results show that all is not well. And in such an event, the loser is likely to blame the Mallam who divined that it would be a landslide in his favour. Another loser will blame the local pastor who prayed for him, and at least one loser is likely to get angry with the tigari- man who gave him 101 per cent assurance.
“When you become a losing contestant, it becomes very difficult to go back home with a smiling face. You’re likely to go home quietly and make straight for bed without taking supper. And your wife is certain to ask you whether you are on hunger strike.”
It was from the time when the parties started holding congress and electing presidential candidates that many politicians started getting disappointed. After congress, many went back home trying to force a smile and were welcomed back from the ordeal by their young children.
“Dad, you look tired, but I understand. Politics is not a small thing,” your son would say. “I realised that the number of votes you had was nowhere near the top. In fact you were coming right from the bottom which means you are a good swimmer. Good swimmers normally come from behind, and I’ll advise you to start preparing for the next Olympics. As for politics, I’m not sure you’ll shine.”
The review of the past year
continues next week.
By Merari Alomele
When Abigail Fremah steps up to the Armwrestling table, the noise fades, the tension settles, and order takes over.
Despite a calm, but firm and meticulous disposition, she has become one of the quiet forces shaping Ghana’s growing reputation in the sport, not as an athlete, but a referee trusted on the continental stage.
Abigail’s journey into Armwrestling did not begin at the table. Like many Ghanaian sports enthusiasts, she grew up playing several disciplines. Football was her first love, but she also featured in volleyball and basketball during her school years. Sports, she says, was simply a way of life not just for her.
“It runs through the family. All my siblings are into sports,” she stated.
“I was involved in almost every sport in school, football, volleyball, netball, hockey; I did everything,” she recalls.
Her academic background in Health, Physical Education and Recreation laid a solid foundation for her sporting career. While on scholarship at the university (University of Cape Coast), she often used her modest budget to support young athletes, sometimes sharing skills and even T-shirts at programmes she attended. Giving back, she explains, has always been part of her motivation.
However, as she matured as an athlete, Abigail made a critical self-assessment.
“Armwrestling involves a lot of strength,” she admits. “Looking at my body type, I realised I couldn’t fit properly as a competitive athlete.”
That moment of honesty pushed her to a different trajectory but equally important path in sports; which is officiating.
During her National Service, she was encouraged by Mr Charles Osei Asibey, the President of the Ghana Armwrestling Federation (GAF), to consider officiating. He introduced her to a technical official, Mr Hussein Akuerteh Addy, who formally took her through the basics of Armwrestling officiating in 2021.
“I started as a case official,” she says. “We moved from region to region every week, officiating competitions. That’s where it all began.”
By 2022, Abigail was actively involved in national assignments, though she missed the African Championship that year. Her breakthrough came in 2023, when Ghana hosted the African Armwrestling Championship.
It was her first experience officiating at a major international competition and it changed everything.
“That was my first national and international exposure at the same time,” she says. “It really opened my eyes.”
Today, Abigail is a World Junior Armwrestling Referee, a status earned through performance, consistency and discipline. She explains that progression in officiating was not automatic.
“It’s all about performance, your appearance at African Championships, your conduct, how you handle pressure; that’s what takes you to the world level,” she stressed.
As a referee, Abigail’s priority is safety and fairness. Armwrestling, she notes, comes with risks, particularly injuries to the wrists, elbows, shoulders and arms.
“If athletes don’t follow the rules or refuse to listen to officials, injuries can happen,” she explains, adding that focus was everything.
Before every match, she ensures that all equipment which includes elbow pads, hand pegs and table alignment were properly set. Athletes are not allowed to cover their elbows, must grip correctly, and must follow the referee’s commands precisely.
“We make sure everything is fixed before the grip,” she says. “Once we say ‘Ready… Go’, there should be no confusion.”
She is also firm on discipline. Warnings are issued for infractions, and repeated misconduct attracts penalties.
“The referee must be respected, if you don’t listen, the rules will deal with you,” she says.
Abigail credits her confidence partly to her sporting family background. Her mother was a volleyball player, while other family members also participated in sports. Though they were initially concerned about her safety, her rise to the top reassured them.
“They were afraid at first,” she admits. “But they were also very proud, especially because some of them never got the opportunity to reach this level.”
Looking ahead, Abigail is optimistic about the future of Armwrestling in Ghana. In less than a decade, the country has produced African and world-level medalists, a sign, she believes, of great things to come for Ghana.
“Whenever we go out, we come back with medals such as gold and silver,” she says, and to her that was a sign of growth.
In the next five to ten years, Abigail sees herself rising to become a World Master Referee, the highest officiating level in the sport. Until then, her routine remains intense, training four times a week, working closely with athletes, standing on her feet for hours, and constantly refining her understanding of the rules.
“I love this sport,” she says simply. “That love is what keeps me going.”
Abigail encouraged women to be bold and intentional about their place in sports saying “don’t limit yourself because of fear or stereotypes.”
She also urged women to invest in learning, discipline and consistency, stressing that respect was earned through performance.
For Abigail, as Ghana’s armwrestlers continue to make their mark, she will remain where she is most effective at the table, ensuring the game is played right.
By Esinam Jemima Kuatsinu
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As he had promised Aperkeh, the elderly man and his wife and three daughters stopped by Aperkeh’s parents’ house. Mr Amando and his family were preparing to settle in for the night.
“Brother Ben and family”, Mr Joshua Amando said warmly, “although I know you are here on a matter that can hardly be described as joyous, it is still good to see you. You are welcome. Please sit down while I bring you water”.
“Yes, we will take water, even though we are hardly thirsty, because this is our home”.
“Okay, Ben”, he started after they had drank, “Let me go straight to the point. My daughter Priscilla has told me about the goings on between her brother Aperkeh and our daughter Stella.
Before informing me, Priscilla had expressed concern to Aperkeh about some habits he is adopting, especially the late nights and the drinking. She tells me that one Saturday morning, she was there when Stella complained about his drinking and some girls who had come to the house to look for him, and he assaulted her.
I called him and complained, but all he could say was that I don’t know what caused him to react that way, so I could not judge him. Now he does not answer my calls.
I have sent Priscilla to his house to call him, but he has refused to come. Unfortunately, Ben, my son is a much different person than the young boy who completed university and started work at the bank. I am really embarrassed about his treatment of Stella”.
“Joshua, let me assure you that even though what is happening is very unfortunate, it will not affect our relationship.
We have been friends since childhood, and I thought that with their parents’ blessing, the relationship between Aperkeh and Stella would grow to become a blessing to all of us. But there appears to be a real challenge now.
Stella thinks that Aperkeh wants her out of his house, and indeed Aperkeh himself told me that, about an hour ago.
So I’m taking my daughter home. I suggest that you do what you can to straighten him out, but if it does not work out, let’s accept the situation and continue to be one family.
I am sure that being the well behaved girl that she is, Stella will meet a young man who will cherish her. Fortunately, this problem is happening early in the day, so they can sort things out if possible, or move on with their lives if they are unable to stay together”.
“I’m really grateful for that, Ben. I will do my best in the next few days to reason with him, because apart from the relationship with Stella, Aperkeh is risking his job and career with this lifestyle.
A good job and salary offers an opportunity to gather momentum in life, not to destroy yourself”.
“Okay Brother Joshua. We will say goodnight. I hope to hear positive news from you”.
As he descended in the lift from the fourth to the ground floor, Aperkeh wondered who would be waiting at the reception to see him at nine on Monday morning. He had spent good time with both of his new girls during the weekend, so it had to be someone else. He got out of the lift and pulled a face when he saw Priscilla.
“Priscilla”, he said as he sat down by her, “what do you want here? You know Monday morning is a busy time at the bank. I am a very busy person, so say what you want, I have work to do”.
“You are very funny, Aperkeh. You are telling me, your sister, that you have work to do, so I should hurry up? Okay, Dad says I should advise you to come home tonight, because he wants to discuss the issue of Stella with you. He sent me to you twice, and you did not come.
He has tried to call you quite a number of times, but you have refused to answer his calls. He says that if you do not come tonight, you will be very surprised at what he will do. He says you will not like it at all, so better come.
“What is all this? Why won’t you people leave me alone? Stella is very disrespectful. I told her that if she wanted to continue to live in my house, she must obey me. It is that simple.
She chose to continue ordering me about, controlling me in my own house, so I told her that if she could not live under my conditions she should leave. And she left. In fact, her own father came and took her away. So what again?’’
“How did she disobey or control you? Was she complaining about your continuous drinking and late nights? And did you slap her on several occasions because of that? Did you tell her that if she could not live under your conditions she should leave? You actually said that to her father? You have forgotten that before she came to live with you, our two parents met and agreed, and gave it their blessing?’
“Why don’t you leave, Priscilla? I don’t have to listen to all that”. “Okay, I will go. Your father who gave birth to you and educated you to university level sends me to you, and you ask me to leave? I wish you would defy him, and refuse to come home as he’s telling you, because he is planning to give you the discipline you badly need. Let me tell you. Stella is such a beautiful and decent girl, and I assure you that someone will grab her before you say Jack. You are only 30 years old, and you have already become a drunkard”.
As he walked towards the lift, Aperkeh decided on what to do. He would go home, and calmly listen to what his father had to say. The old man was very unpredictable, and he wouldn’t dare ignore him. So he would take all the insults and threats, but as for Stella she was history. According to Priscilla, Stella was beautiful and all that, but she had not seen the two curvaceous princesses who were all over him, ready to do anything he asked. And these were not barely literate waakye girls, but university graduates from wealthy homes, really classy girls. With stuff like that, who needs a waakye girl? He smiled as he took his seat.
A few minutes to five, Aperkeh was packing up to leave for home to meet his dad when his phone rang. It was Priscilla.
“Aperkeh, Dad says you don’t need to bother to come. Stella’s dad says she came to him early this morning to plead that she would rather stay at home than return to your house. She thinks you are already decided to be rid of her, and she does not want to risk being assaulted again. So it’s done. You can go ahead and enjoy the nice life you have started”.
Before he could tell her to go to hell, Priscilla hanged up the line. He was partially stung that his dad had virtually cut him off. The last thing anyone would want was to fall out of relationship with his own family, which had always supported him.
But the truth was he was no longer interested in Stella. What was wrong with going by one’s feelings? He could only hope that one day, his parents and sister would try to reason with him.
By Ekow de Heer
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