Features
Quaffing beer in another
Joseph Kwame Korkorti started hating imposters the day a set of beautiful identical twin dames began playing pseudo-love and dangerous financial games with him. He had met one of the dazzling chocolate-coloured twins and wasted no time in proposing love to her. She was not interested.
The next time Korkorti met the broad, he thought she was an angel. Her face shown of a certain bright-ness and Korkorti’s heart melted. Oh, what celestial beauty! What glory on a human face! Should he sing in her honour or pour forth his love in poetic stanza?
He approached her and they had a chat and Korkorti thought he was in truly heaven. “I love you, I adore you,” he heard himself confessing again. The coy little angel with melting eyes was touched by Korkorti’s show of love and affection. She agreed to the proposal this time. Korkorti never knew it was the other twin.
However, it was not long before he realised he was dealing with two different angels. Unable to tell which his true lover was, both started playing games with him now, one impersonating the other sometimes. When he thought he was giving a gift to his lover, the recipient turned out to be the one who rejected his love. He just couldn’t differentiate between the two. What confusion!
Korkorti thought over the matter for some time and decided he was not born with foolishness in his bones. Moreover he was not the kind of guy who washes his face upwards every morning! He called it quits.
When Korkorti told me about it I was sorry for him. At the time, he was only a little teenager and had little experience in matters of the heart. If it were today, it would have been a different palaver. He would have seduced both of them, said a big thank you, and ran away to take financial cover.
I have always wished that the twins had rather encountered my good friend Lama. The Lama today is an international businessman with the kind of acumen and oratorical genius any politician would envy. I see him as a political philosopher, a man of deeper thoughts. Some see him as a realist, others as an idealist. At best he is both, at worst he is none.
He has several university degrees and diplomas hanging all over him. In those days when we were young, he was a delight of the ladies and the twins would certainly have been in for what they never dreamt of.
Well, impersonating in Sikaman or elsewhere has turned out not to be too difficult. White people coming to Africa for the first time see all blacks as having the same kind of face the same broad forehead, thick lips, and powerful nose, whatever.
So you can show your uncle’s passport to a white immigration officer and he’d immediately see your face in the picture. Even when you alert him to the fact that your nose is broader than the one in the picture, he’d pat you on the shoulder, “Sonny, that’s your nose alright. The dimension is clean. It couldn’t be wider. Have a nice stay in the US.”
It is the same way blacks see whites and the yellow-skinned. I personally find it extremely difficult to distinguish one Korean from another or even a Korean from a Chinese. They have the same style of walking, dancing, snoring, etc.
FULL-TIME
Impersonation has become a full time job for some people in Sikaman. That is how they live, feed their families, pay bills and even sponsor the beauty of their girlfriends.
Not all who go around claiming they are Castle officials have ever seen even the Castle gate before. But they have very beautiful Castle ID cards, several forged documents that are properly stamped and they have the kind of tongue that can deceive even the devil. Fraud is their speciality.
I wasn’t surprised to learn that even ladies are in the con business so soon after Beijing. One is seriously presenting herself as having connections with the First Lady’s and living fat on it.
I have always said that ladies can be better con artists and impostors because no one really equates a woman with lies especially in matters bordering on fraud. She may not even need an ID card. She’d only have to say she is the special assistant to the First Lady and she is believed just because she is well-dressed and smiles like the First Lady.
As for the President, people have used his name to over-feed themselves. Sometimes they only have to recount falsely how they were J.J’s playmate and how their friendship has developed to the extent that the President has made them Special Castle agents. They’ve never met the President anywhere, anyway.
“J.J. doesn’t play with me at all,” they’d swear. “Even today today, I eat with him from the same plate. I do very special jobs for him. I even shape his moustache for him. Bring ¢600,000 and I’ll solve your problem for you. Add $50,000 for transportation and incidentals.” You’ve been duped clean.
Impersonation is not only at the highest level of the social or political ladder. Midway, you can experience it and often crooks have impersonated journalists.
Sometime past, someone went around the capital claiming to be the writer of the evergreen Baafuor column of the Weekly Spectator. People were buying him beer left and right and his stomach turned out to be a living brewery.
It was not long before he was found out by his benefactors. And he was given the kind of slap that probably made him feel dizzy for two weeks. Next time he thinks about beer and Baafuor, he’d remember he once felt dizzy non-stop for a fortnight.
I was in the office one Monday when I had a call.
“Yes, Merari, speaking.”
“Merari, thanks very much. I received the papers.”
“What papers?”
“The newspapers you sent this morning. I liked the story.”
“I am not getting you, sir,” I said.” I never sent you any paper this morning.”
“Perhaps, you’ve forgotten. A certain man came and said Merari Alomele asked him to send the papers to me. I gave him $2,000 for transport.”
“Then you’ve mean conned,” I told him laughing.
On three other occasions I received similar calls. I don’t know whether people are also drinking beer in my name. But the day I get someone quaffing in my name, I believe the slap would be quite terrific. The person would have to go in for tetanus injection to abate the effect.
This article was first published on Saturday, August 24, 1996
A haircut I had about a week ago didn’t go down well with many. Someone quite close to my heart saw it, examined it critically and felt dizzy.
“What’s this?” she proceeded to ask me.
“An international hairdo,” I replied.
She was disgusted, in fact disappointed. The problem with the haircut is that the style is neither Punk, Tokyo Joe nor Show Your Back. If anything, it is a combination of all—and I liked it, for a change.
It was when I bounded downtown that someone called me and enquired whether I was no longer a journalist. He said I looked like a well-fed Warrant Officer.
“Class One or Class Two?” I asked.
Another studied my head as if he was studying physical geography and pronounced that I looked like a boxer who can throw dangerous punches. Still, someone was of the opinion that the haircut didn’t quite fit me, but admitted that I looked like a prosperous merchant.
Commendation
I remember some three months ago, I had a haircut that made two girls fall in love with me. In spite of the fact that the barber was not a graduate, the cut was such that they couldn’t help admiring it. One of them actually ‘checked out’ the style and commended the barber.
The other was more bent on the ‘love matter’ but I was too busy to give her any attention. LOVE!
I was reminded of this when I viewed a premier showing of the latest Sikaman film titled THE POWER OF LOVE. The film kept me thinking. Some of us have long forgotten about what it is like to be head-over-heels in love. When we were students, we had such experiences because there was nothing doing anyway.
We were either learning how stylishly to smoke ‘jot’ or how romantically to fall in love. Anyhow, I was intrigued by this latest movie because of the way love unlimited was portrayed on screen. It took my memory back many years to relive those youthful days when we felt we’d really die if jilted by our lovers.
The storyline of THE POWER OF LOVE is really an exciting one. The combination of love, treachery and intrigue made me feast my eyes intently on the screen, unbelieving the extent the force of love can reach.
Ama and Afua are good friends. But when it comes to matters of the heart, they have different tastes; Ama is content with only her boyfriend (a student) and Afua samples the bigwigs around town. Afua, not satisfied with the shots in town, wants Ama’s boyfriend Joe in addition. She lies to Joe that Ama has often been picked by a man on four-wheels, whereupon Joe dismisses Ama and takes on Afua.
Ama doesn’t realise that it is her best friend Afua who is destroying her relationship with Joe until she catches her having sex with him. She collapses and goes out of her mind from the broken heart. But before then, she had been made pregnant by Joe.
Having escaped from a psychiatric hospital, she roams town murmuring Joe’s name. Heavily pregnant now, she espies Joe boarding a mini bus and runs towards him. Joe, seeing her approaching, quickly disembarks and takes off.
Ama pursues him furiously, and he runs to his home where he finds his bosom friend Frank making love to Afua. He immediately realises the treachery of Afua who instigated him to leave Ama.
He intends leaving the home in disgust and meets mad Ama at the door and embraces her despite her madness. Instantly, she regains her sanity.
Love indeed heals the wounds of the mind and it is the greatest positive force in the world. Incidentally, the greatest negative force is hatred.
Greatest force
Now coming to talk about love, I reiterate it is the greatest force imaginable. That is why a man will butcher his rival to death if he catches him climbing his wife without asking permission; and a woman will go mad if jilted.
It is also for this reason that a young boy who is scared stiff of cemeteries and under normal circumstances would not dare go near one, will this time walk boldly through a cemetery at midnight if that is the only way to his lover’s abode.
The Bible describes love for our neighbours as the surest way to heaven: Love thy neighbour as thyself.
Unfortunately, what Ghanaians are more interested and skilful in is loving the opposite sex. Romance under the cover of darkness is what we understand love to be all about. When it comes to loving our fellow human beings, we are found wanting.
People hate others just because they are of another tribe and do not speak the same native language. Too much grudge-bearing that does not augur well for national development.
War in Liberia, carnage in Rwanda are the results of the absence of love for one’s fellow being. If everybody could express a little bit of love for his fellow being irrespective of tribe, race, politics or religion, Sikaman—and indeed, the world—will be a more habitable place.
This article was first published on Saturday, October 29, 1994
Join our WhatsApp Channel now!
https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VbBElzjInlqHhl1aTU27
“Sir,” Ms. Odame said when David Asante answered the call, “my name is Victoria Odame. I’m a teacher at Research School in Koforidua. I would like to come and see you concerning a student called Sarah.”
“Okay, madam. I would be very glad to meet you. How can I make your trip easier?”
“I was going to join a bus to Accra.”
“Here’s what we will do. Take a taxi and ask them to bring you to Accra. I will speak to the driver, give him the directions, and pay him when you get here.”
The taxi stopped in front of the house. The gate opened, and the driver moved to the long driveway and stopped.
“What a beautiful house,” he said.
David and Adoma came out to meet them. Adoma paid the driver as David and Sarah stared at each other.
“Please come in and sit down,” Adoma invited. She served them water.
“You are welcome,” Adoma continued. “We have been waiting anxiously since you called this morning. So please, let’s hear you.”
Before she could open her mouth, Sarah rose, moved to David, hugged him, and sat on his lap. They both broke into tears. Adoma and Ms. Odame also broke into tears.
“Sorry, madam,” David said. “This whole episode has been a very difficult one. But let’s do the proper thing. Let’s hear you first, and I will also speak. I’m sure we need to answer some questions immediately.”
“Okay, sir. I have been taking an interest in Sarah because, although she’s brilliant academically, she seemed to be troubled. Following my discussions with her and some whispers I had been hearing, I went to Aboso Senior High School and spoke to your former colleague, Mr. Hanson. He told me that you were an exemplary teacher who was loved by all, and he also told me about the unfortunate events that caused you to leave for Germany. So I returned to Koforidua with the view to finding the appropriate means of helping to solve this problem.”
“Great. Ms. Odame, I have to thank you for finally helping us to solve this problem. Now, let me state the facts. This is what happened.
“Gladys and I met and got married whilst we were both teachers in the school. Some months into our marriage, she told me that she needed to spend some days with her parents, and I agreed.
“It turned out that she was actually spending time in a hotel with her ex-boyfriend, Simon. This happened again after Sarah was born. I got wind of this and told her that I was no longer interested in the marriage.
“I started preparing to travel to Germany. She pleaded for forgiveness, but I stood my ground. Then she told me that she would punish me for rejecting her.
“She came out later to say that Sarah was not my child, but Simon’s. She went and hid her somewhere, obviously expecting that I would fight to take my child. I was actually going to do that, but my parents advised me that it was almost impossible to win such a fight.
“They advised that, difficult as it sounded, I should leave the child with her because she would come back to me eventually. I have absolutely no problem taking care of you, Sarah. I am taking care of quite a number of kids who are not mine. So that is what happened. My hands were tied. I have been trying to find out how you are doing.
“I kept hearing that you were doing well at school. I also heard that Gladys and her husband were having problems, but I kept hoping that my daughter would at least be okay till it was possible for me to go for her.”
“Sarah, now you have met your dad. You will be free to—”
“I’m not going anywhere!” she declared as she held on to him.
“You don’t have to worry about that, Sarah,” Adoma said. “We have been looking forward to the day you come home. This is your home. Now, you have to meet your siblings.” She called Abrefi and Adaawa.
“Girls, we told you that you have a sister who would join us anytime. Now here she is.”
“Sarah?” Abrefi asked.
“Yes,” Adoma replied. The girls hugged her and took her away.
“Now,” David said, “I think it is time to call Madam Gladys.” He dialed the number.
“My name is David Asante. I’m here in my house with my daughter Sarah. I hear you have told her all sorts of crazy stories about me. I could make life very difficult for you, but I won’t.
“You are your own worst enemy. I don’t think you should be expecting her anytime soon. What do you say?”
Gladys stayed silent for over a minute, then cut the line.
“Food is ready,” Adoma announced. “Everybody, please come to the table.”
Sarah chatted excitedly with her siblings as Adoma and David spoke with Ms. Odame. She kept staring at her father.
“Now, Ms. Odame, after you have brought such joy into our home, should we allow you to go back to Koforidua today, or should we wait till we are ready to release you? I could call your husband and ask permission.
“And please don’t tell me you didn’t bring anything for an overnight stay. There are several supermarkets around here. We can fix that problem quickly.”
“I will beg you to release me. Now that I have been so warmly welcomed here, I already feel part of this home. Koforidua is not that far away, so I will visit often.”
“Well, let’s see what the kids have to say. Ladies, shall I release Ms. Odame to go back to Koforidua?”
“No!” they shouted, and all broke into laughter.
“Ms. Odame, I will have mercy on you. But we are going to do something to make it easy for you to visit us. My wife wants to show you something. Please follow her.”
Adoma led her to the driveway as the others followed. They stopped in front of the car.
“This is a Toyota Corolla 1600. It is very reliable and good on petrol consumption. We are giving this to you in appreciation of your help in getting our daughter back to us.
“And here in this envelope is a little contribution to help you with maintenance. And here in this other envelope is a gift to help with your children’s school fees.”
As she stood, stunned, and stared from the car to the envelopes, David put his hand around his family.
“Let’s leave her to take a look at her car. Ms. Odame, one of my drivers will drive you to Koforidua and leave your car with you. We are waiting inside.”
By Ekow de Heer
Profile6 days agoAlbert Litela Obidiaba: The artist who wove Ghana’s soul into the King’s Baton
- News6 days ago
Daddy Lumba’s wife, children run to court to injunct December 6 funeral arrangements
News1 week agoPresident Mahama to meet Auditor-General, Chief Justice and Attorney-General over misuse of public funds
