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Political gimmicking in Sikaman
The political temperature is rising slowly and political aspirants are busy palpitating and getting hypertensive. Some are already having running stomachs; Jesus Christ! The problem with politics is that it is hardly good for radiant health. The stress can be unbearable.
The run-up to the December polls is seeing quite interesting happenings and it is common to see a politician in a new pair of shoes and a new coat, most likely procured from the first-selection base at Kantamanto. A good ironing is all he needs to pretend it is imported from France.
Others are not too fussy about coats. Instead, they are making sure that they spot the latest haircut to match a lively moustache. The ladies are not being left out. Check out the hairdos, the manicure and pedicure. And when they walk, they do so with measured political steps.
Indeed, with some of the women, it can be an exercise aimed at defying the laws of gravity. They can actually suspend themselves above sea level soon after they start strutting along with the majesty of a peacock.
Politics and democratic politicking have brought about style in human ambulation and pomposity in common mobility. So be it!
APPETITE
But behind all the flamboyance and masquerade is the fear of the uncertain, which is a factor that is easily identified as the cause of those who have lost appetite for food lately and are suffering a rise in their blood pressures. But they needn’t worry. Politics is only a game.
From now till December, doctors do not need laboratory tests to make a prognosis or diagnosis of disease, if the patient is a politician. The man has spent almost half-a-billion cedis to become a parliamentarian and if he doesn’t win, he is likely to hang himself. So he certainly must be suffering from acute hypertension. If the doctor is a seer he can also prophesy stroke if the polls go against the patient.
So the patient must be advised to cool down. Instead of fretting, he should rather fast and pray and hope that God listens to prayers, especially the prayers of politicians.
There are, however, some categories of politicians who really do not care whether they lose or not. They are the current parliamentarians who have complained of late about their pay. They cannot even pay their car loans. And the grandeur with which parliamentary position goes has apparently not manifested in their case.
All that parliamentary position has brought them is the obligation they have to fulfil in paying the school fees of people they don’t even like and attending funerals of people who have once offended them, but which they must attend and donate cash for the sake of their political longevity.
Now the political landscape is registering the activity of carpet crossers and defectors who are first looking carefully at their stomachs in order to evaluate whether or not it is worth turning coat.
No doubt, the stomach has become a political organ of the human body and has long since stopped being an anatomical component, especially when elections are due.
But it isn’t everybody who defects because of bread and butter. Some defect because they feel they are in the wrong ideological camp or can no longer be pleasant bedfellows with their long-time compatriots. Others think old foes can now reason with them better.
CARPET
By far, the most likely reason why anyone can have to cross carpets, is the hope of clinching a post if the other party wins. But that will depend on whether the party indeed wins, if you ask Inusah, he can describe the feeling. It is a risk that needs to be taken with a lion’s heart; it can turn out to be a tragic experience, a disastrous decision of a life-time.
Defectors are actively announcing their new plans and hoping they are on the right track.
But it is always good to consult people like Inusah before making the open declarations. It can shatter your entire political future! At any rate, defections are part of democratic politicking and people are always welcomed from other side even if they look like spies.
Now, the good thing about the 2004 elections is that many dance styles are emerging. I hear they are being choreographed to suit the pre-and-election 2004 periods
The ‘Kufuor Dance’ is one, a slow but funky variation that should precede the voting. The Elephant Dance’ is a more vigorous boogie that needs four solid balls of kenkey to execute. It is a powerful dance form that should feature as an NPP victory dance.
BELLY DANCE
The Mills Highlife Dance is an ‘asomdwe’ pre-election choreography that should cool down tension before voting. But it is the Rawlings Belly Dance’ that will be the victory boogie, a very creative form of the popular belly dance that involves the gyration of the waist interspersed with staccato steps and gimmicks.
Certainly, these dance forms will be premiered at rallies, so that supporters can rehearse them before voting.
The race itself looks like a straight-forward one between NPP and NDC. As for CPP and the Grand Coalition, we can only wish them well.
In any political contest, the incumbent naturally stands a better chance of winning, but nothing is very certain till all the votes are counted. The party that wins will have a very grand Christmas
What ‘Sikaman Palava’ wish for all is a fair contest and a peace aftermath.
Everybody is calling peace, because it is the dear thing to lose. And peace cannot prevail when we watch the tongue. For the tongue is more power than petrol and a lighted match put together.
This article was first published on October 30, 2004
Walk into any supermarket in Accra, Kumasi, or Tamale today, and you will see the modern Ghanaian diet packaged as ‘progress.’ You will see breakfast cereals with cartoon mascots, fruit drinks that are mostly sugar and colour, and snacks promising energy and happiness in bright fonts.
Even products loaded with salt and unhealthy fats often wear a health halo labeled as fortified or natural, while the real nutritional risk is hidden in tiny print on the back. This is not just a consumer inconvenience; it is a public health blind spot. Ghana is living through a silent surge of non-communicable diseases (NCDs) like hypertension, diabetes, and stroke.
These conditions quietly drain household income and steal productive years. According to the Ghana Health Service (GHS) and World Health Organisation (WHO) estimates, NCDs are now responsible for nearly 45 per cent of all deaths in Ghana.
We cannot build a healthy nation on a food environment designed to confuse people at the point of purchase. Ghana must mandate simple front-of-pack warning labels (FOPWL) on high-sugar, high-salt, and high-fat packaged foods because consumers deserve truth at a glance, and industry must be pushed to reformulate.
Why Back-of-Pack Labels Are Not Enough
In theory, consumers can read nutrition panels. In reality, most Ghanaians shop under pressure, limited time, rising prices, and children tugging at their sleeves. The back label is a relic that requires a high cognitive load to interpret—essentially, the seller knows what is inside, but the buyer cannot easily tell.
This ‘information asymmetry’ is not fair. It is not consumer choice when the information needed to choose well is deliberately difficult to find.
Simple warning labels like the black octagons used in the Chilean Model act as a ‘stop-and-think’ nudge. They do not ban products but they simply tell the truth so people can decide.
Reshaping Our Food Environment
A generation ago, Ghana’s meals were mostly home-prepared, like kenkey and banku with soups and stews. Today, ultra-processed foods have become the norm, especially in urban areas. Children are growing up with sugary drinks and salty snacks as everyday items, not occasional treats.
If Ghana is serious about prevention, we must act where decisions are made—thus, the shelf. Warning labels protect parents from sugar traps and pressure the market to improve. When warning labels are mandatory, manufacturers start to compete to make healthier recipes to avoid the stigma of the label.
Addressing the Pushback
Industry will argue that labels create fear or that education alone is enough. However, health education is slow; labels work immediately. While the informal street food sector is a challenge, regulating pre-packaged goods is the practical starting point because the supply chain is traceable. We cannot wait until the whole system is perfect; we must start where action is feasible.
A 2026 Implementation Roadmap for Ghana
To move from talk to action, Ghana needs this 5-step plan:
- Issue mandatory regulation: The Ministry of Health, Food and Drug Authority (FDA), and Ghana Standards Authority (GSA) must define the label format and nutrient thresholds for all pre-packaged foods.
- Simple, bold symbols: Use plain language and clear symbols, such as “HIGH IN SUGAR,” designed for busy families, not experts.
- Transparent thresholds: Adopt technically defensible standards adapted to the Ghanaian diet.
- Transition and enforce: Provide a 12–18 month period for manufacturers to reformulate, followed by firm enforcement at ports and retail centers.
- National literacy campaign: The Ghana Health Service must pair labels with public messages explaining why high salt or sugar increases disease risk.
Conclusion: Truth Is Not a Luxury
Prevention is cheaper than treatment. A warning label costs little compared to the price of dialysis, stroke rehabilitation, or lifelong diabetes complications. A black octagon on a box of biscuits is more than a label; it is a shield for the health of all Ghanaians. It is time to put the truth where we can see it, right on the front.
By Abigail Amoah Sarfo
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Natives of the Kenkey Kingdom were mad with joy. They were still recovering from the hangover of the kingdom’s loss of the African Cup when their spirits were rekindled. Their great warrior, Zoom Zoom, stormed Melbourne and made sure that every Australian refused food. And that was after he had drawn contour lines on the face of their idol, Jeff Fenech.
Not only did the terrible warrior transform Old Boy Jeff’s face into a contour map useful for geography lessons, but he also accomplished the feat of retaining the much-envied super-kenkeyweight title against all odds. The warrior had not been eating hot kenkey for nothing.
The Fight Against Fenech
When Jeff Fenech bit the dust in the eighth round, I was tempted to consider if Adanko Deka could not have faced him in any twelve-rounder, title or non-title bout. Adanko has improved tremendously, and soon he would be facing Pernell Whitaker.
Sincerely, I was pessimistic about Azumah’s man, who the last time took him through twelve grueling rounds of rough boxing. I expressed my fears to my colleague Christian Abbew, alias Gbonyo, who surprisingly had total confidence that the Australian brawler would fall, predictably in Round Five.
Gbonyo gave reasons for his contention, all of which I counteracted using the age factor. Fact is, I didn’t know that contrary to the laws of nature, Azumah was all the time growing younger.
When Fenech fell briefly in round one, I asked my brother whether it was the same Fenech that fought Azumah in Las Vegas. Sure, it was the same Fenech, all out to beat Azumah before his countrymen.
But the African Professor had no intention of making the Australian a hero. As he spun round the desperate Aussie, dancing and stinging out his jabs, it was not too long before I realized that the end was near.
The Eighth Round Showdown
Two minutes into the eighth round, the African ring-master proved to the whole world that he was a true son of Bukom. He himself was cornered, but like the tough nut he is, he managed to break free before overwhelming the panting Australian with several blows that made him crash headlong.
Moments after, the referee, expressing fatherly sympathy, stopped the fight to prevent an obituary. After the ordeal, Fenech’s fairly handsome face was full of newly constructed hills, valleys, ox-bow lakes—whatever. I noticed that his nose was very tired and had a miniature volcano sitting restlessly on it. Obviously, Jeff’s wife will have to nurse that nose back to its normal shape—but I’d advise her not to use iodine, otherwise her dear husband will wail like a banshee.
Reflections on Boxing
Because Mohammed Ali was the kind of boxer kids liked, many school-going kids often entertained the wish of becoming like him. I remember one day when I told my father I wanted to become a boxer, and he advised me to first complete my education to the highest level. Then, if I decided to become a boxer and was knocked out a couple of times, I’d fall back on my degrees and make a living.
Boxing used to be interesting when bouts were fought more with the mouth and tongue than with gloves. You had to brag well, psychologically belittling your opponent before beating him up physically. Mohammed Ali became a very successful pugilist because he also managed to become a poet. He often blew his horn across America, calling himself the “pretty boxer” and opponents like Joe Frazier “the gorilla.”
Ali made a living fighting hard fists like Joe Frazier, Ken Norton, Jerry Quarry, George Foreman, Leon Spinks, and Trevor Berbick. Twice he came back from retirement to fight just for money. It was Larry Holmes who finally pensioned him, and since then the great Ali has never been himself.
The Path Ahead for Azumah
When Azumah nailed Jeff Fenech on the cross and barked almost immediately that he was after the head of Pernell Whitaker, I was happy but concerned. I would have been happier if he had announced his resignation there and then—he would have been more of a hero. Beating Fenech in Australia is more newsworthy than facing Whitaker in the States.
With Whitaker, it might be a little difficult. The “Sweet Pea” is agile, has a crooked body like a snake with diarrhea, and stands awkwardly as a southpaw. He is known for having the fastest pair of fists and the rare ability to dodge punches no matter how close they may be.
Much as I do not doubt that Azumah can take his title, I also don’t want him to retire beaten. I want him to retire as a hero and live a fuller, healthy life.
As Azumah himself said after dishing Fenech, he is now a professor and has something to show for it. Like a true professor, I think it is time he resigned and took up training young talents who could draw inspiration from him and become like him in the future.
Closing Thoughts
I must say that although ageing boxers like Larry Holmes and George Foreman are making a name for themselves, boxing is not like the Civil Service, where you can even change your age and retire at 74. Zoom Zoom has delighted the hearts of the natives, and Sikaman will forever hold him in high esteem—but only when he retires as a hero.
This article was first published on Saturday, March 7, 1992.
