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
Attention-Deficit or Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) is often mistaken for laziness or indiscipline. In consulting rooms across Accra and in reports from school teachers, the pattern repeats: children who are bright but forgetful, parents who feel helpless, teachers who see incompleteness.
Research is clear-Barkley (2015) and others describe ADHD as a difference in the brain’s regulation of alertness, impulse and working memory, not a lack of effort.
The family’s role begins with structure. Regular sleep, predictable meal and homework times, and a simple visual list (uniform → books → water → corridor) provide the external scaffolding of these children need. Praise what is completed—“You opened the book and wrote the first sentence”-instead of rebuking what is missing.
Schools can help by seating the child front-row and centre, giving short written plus verbal instructions, allowing brief movement breaks, using quiet nonverbal cues and, where possible, grading effort and method as well as neatness. These adjustments reduce conflict and raise submission rates without lowering standards.
Couples and caregivers should share roles: one grounds, one pivots, and both protect rest. Shame-“bad parenting, bad child”-needs replacing with fact: different wiring, needs scaffolding.
Outcomes improve not by promises of perfection but by daily routines, clear limits and warmed connection. One homework slot kept, one instruction chunked, one calm repair after blurting-these small wins shift the family climate and let the child be seen beyond the label.
Resource
• CPAC (award-winning Mental Health and Counselling Facility): 0559850604 / 0551428486
Source: REV. COUNSELLOR PRINCE OFFEI’s insights on special needs support, relationships, and mental health in Ghana. He is a leading mental health professional, lecturer, ADR Expert/Arbitrator, renowned author, and marriage counsellor at COUNSELLOR PRINCE & ASSOCIATES CONSULT (CPAC COUNSELLOR TRAINING INSTITUTE) – 0551428486 /0559850604.
WEBSITES:
https://princeoffei22.wixsite.com/author
https://princeoffei22.wixsite.com/website
After two weeks of hectic activity up north, I drove to the Tamale airport, parked the car at the Civil Aviation car park as usual, paid the usual parking fee and boarded the plane for Accra.
Over the last two weeks, I had shuffled between three sites where work was close to completion.
One was a seed warehouse, where farmers would come and pick up good quality maize, sorghum and other planting material.
The other was a health facility for new mothers, where they were given basic training on good nutrition and small scale business.
And the third was a set of big boreholes for three farming communities.
The projects usually ran on schedule, but a good deal of time was spent building rapport with the local people, to ensure that they would be well patronised and maintained.
It was great to be working in a situation where one’s work was well appreciated. But it certainly involved a lot of work, and proactivity. And I made sure that I recorded updates online before going to bed in the evening.
When the plane took off, my mind shifted to issues in Accra, the big city. The young guys at my office had done some good work. They had secured five or six houses on a row in a good part of the city, and were close to securing the last.
When we got this property, unusually, Abena greeted them casually, and appeared to be comfortable in the guy’s company.
I was quite disappointed to hear that, because until the last few weeks, it seemed as if Abena and I were heading in a good direction. Apart from the affection I had for her, I liked her family. I decided to take it easy, and allow things to fall in whatever direction.
Normally I would take a taxi to her house from the airport, and pick her up to my place. This time I went to my sisters’ joint, where they sat by me while I enjoyed a drink and a good meal.
“So Little Brother,” Sister Beesiwa said, “what is it we are hearing about our wife-to-be?”
“When did you conclude that she was your wife-to-be? And what have you heard? I’ve only heard a couple of whispers. Ebo and Nana Kwame called to say that they have seen her in the company of—”
“Well said Little Brother,” Sister Baaba said. “By the way, Nana Kwame called an hour ago to ask if you had arrived because he could not reach you. Someone had told him that Jennifer had boasted to someone that she had connected Abena to a wealthy guy who would take care of her.”
I was beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. So I think Jennifer fed her with false stories about me in order to get her to move to the Ampadu guy. Jennifer must have been well compensated for her efforts.
“In that case,” Sister Beesiwa said, “you should be glad that Abena is out of your way. She is easily swayed. Anyone who would make a relationship decision based on a friend’s instigation lacks good sense. I hope the guy is as wealthy as they say?”
“Who gets wealthy running a supermarket chain in Ghana?” Sister Baaba said. “Our supermarkets sell mostly imported products. Look at the foreign exchange rate. And remember that Ghanaians buy second-hand shoes and clothes. Supermarkets are not good business here. Perhaps they are showing off that they are wealthy, but in reality they are not doing so well.”
“Amen to that,” I said. “I’m beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. So I think Jennifer fed her with false stories about me in order to get her to move to the Ampadu guy. Jennifer must have been well compensated for her efforts.”
She said that David Forson was only an agricultural extension worker in the north who did not have the resources to take care of a beautiful girl like her. And apart from being wealthy, the guy comes from an influential family, so Abena had done much better leaving a miserable civil servant like you for him.
“Amen to that,” I said. “I’m beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. We would be able to sell all five houses to one big corporate customer, and we had already spoken to a property dealer who was trying to find a buyer in order to get a good commission.
That was going to be my biggest break. I had asked the boys to look for a large tract of land on the outskirts of the city where we could develop our own set of buildings, blocks of storey houses and upscale apartments. Things were going according to plan, and I was quietly excited. However, things were not going so well regarding my relationship with Abena.
My buddies Ebo and Nana Kwame had called to say that they met Abena and her friend Jennifer enjoying lunch with a guy, and Ebo believed that Jennifer was ‘promoting’ an affair between Jennifer and the guy. They were of the view that the promotion seemed to be going in the guy’s favour, because only an agricultural extension worker in the north who did not have the resources to take care of a beautiful girl like her.
And apart from being wealthy, the guy comes from an influential family, so Abena had done much better leaving a miserable civil servant like you for him.
“As I’ve already said, I will stop by her place, but I will mind my own business from now. Hey, let’s talk family. How are our parents? And my brothers-in-law? And my nephews and nieces? Why don’t we meet on Sunday? I’m going to drop my bags at my place, and go to see Mama and Dad.”
