Features
Peace, be still
In certain parts of Africa, you can’t walk for 100 metres without looking over your shoulders twice. May be you’re a top-ranker of a political group and a member of an opposition or rival group might be following you with the intention of putting a bullet into your bloody head.
So when you look back and you see about four people following you rather closely, you’ll start wondering which of them is the killer. You’ll get confused and in an attempt to identify the assassin, you’ll start defining the word ‘Killer’. How does the forehead of a killer look like? Do killers have high intelligence quotients, and are they supposed to be married?
When someone calls you from behind, you’ll be tempted either to bark or to take off like an Olympic athlete. Just as you are about to decide which is safer of the two, you will realise that the caller is a friend. You breathe easily now. But you still have to examine his eyebrows to see if it fits the definition of a killer.
It may also be that your style of walking suggests you’re a rebel and must be gunned down before you start misbehaving. The fact is that, rebels are very stylish and it shows in their gait.
Imagine you closed from work and you were having a nice time with your friends and just then two hooded fellows entered the joint and started spraying everybody with a Kalashnikov AK 47 rifle. Stampede, Press reports-18 people died, 12 critically injured, Bar man’s head blown off, and his daughter in hospital in critical condition with an amputated thigh.
Sounds impossible isn’t it? But it is happening in Angola, Togo (which is next door), Liberia, Mozambique, all because of political misunderstandings and socio-politico- economic nonsense.
In Sikaman, the Hand of God is stretched over the territory. Peace be still! God is with us, and we must be thankful.
When a cloud of controversy formed over the results declared at the presidential polls, many chanted war songs, some silently, and there was cause for concern. The atmosphere was charged with looming violence.
The opposition refused to contest the parliamentary elections and all thought that was a prelude to civil war. The Christians prayed, Moslems worshipped, Buddhists chanted and Krishnas sang. The time- bomb was defused, and tension fizzled out. And there was peace, heavenly peace, nothing but peace.
It is most commendable that although possible strife was forecast, the opposition displayed maturity and today, you can drink in a beer bar without any fear of your head being blown off by an idiot.
Even for us journalists who close late at night, there is no fear. I’ve discharged my bodyguard because I am not in any real danger. Moreover, he has been demanding double pay and I’ve also been reminding him that he is not a civil servant. “Only Civil Servants have the constitutional right to demand double pay, don’t you know?” I often tell him.
He also tells me he is going to buy a copy of the 1992 Constitution to look for the clause on double payment. I pity him because it would take him a life-time to track down the clause since it doesn’t exist, anyway, I’ve paid him off handsomely though and given him an over-coat as his end-of-service benefit.
The whole palaver that journalists are vulnerable and relatively more endangered than any other human breed. Fact is that not everything we write go down well with everybody. Some of our pieces cannot be swallowed, much more digested without the swallower vomiting his or her intestines out.
Because of this we make friends just as we make enemies. And with journalism someone can be a friend today and an enemy tomorrow just because you have stepped a bit on his last toe, without asking permission.
Sometimes some people are both friends and enemy simultaneously and they are the most dangerous because when a person slaps you in the dark, you’d wonder how a friend could slap you that hard.
The kind of letters and messages we receive these days demand that I go in search of my bodyguard whom I pensioned not quite long ago. He has the capacity and ability of identifying enemies and potential enemies because he has a third eye. And I like him because he is a south-paw and has very good reflexes.
The only problem, however, is that I have to feed him twice daily and he has a helluva appetite. This means the budgetary allocation covering his stomach alone is not a ‘small thing.” Anyhow, it is all for my good because when he is bellyful he automatically gyrates into a third degree alert. When he sees anybody getting close to me he growls like a tiger, and I nod my head in appreciation. That’s the spirit!
Yes, as I was saying, government and opposition have made it possible for peace to prevail in our dear country such that the security of everybody’s left ear is guaranteed. Anyway if you feel that yours is not, you may go and insure it for any eventuality. There are many insurance companies in town.
In any case, it is unlikely that violence would erupt in foreseeable future. The New Patriotic (NPP) is doing all its best to engage in proper rapport with the government, and I bet you that is a really encouraging sign of co-operation.
The elephant and the umbrella must not be enemies. They must dine together. Politics is not a war. It is a game and even dogs play it better than humans. The dog says, ‘When I fall for you and you fall for me, there is no palaver’.
Fact is that no one party is going to rule forever, so why not cooperate with each other to make democracy meaningful in the country? I salute the NPP for the prudent overtures towards reconciliation, understanding and peace.
However, I must say I was disappointed when a leading member of the party went abroad ostensibly to paint Sikaman rather black to potential investors. I was terribly disappointed because I respect him for his intellect.
He must know that the country is not for only Jerry Jot Rawlings or for NDC. It is for everybody including himself. So to go about discouraging investors from doing business in the country just because Jerry Rawlings is in power is not sane politics. It doesn’t speak well of him, and the country deserves an apology.
This article was first published on Saturday, August 21, 1993
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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