Features
Sikaman Cops and mob justice


When your driving license expires and a policeman “cranks” you, there are two options. You can decide to scratch the policeman’s back and he will in turn scratch your back. It is a brotherly agreement, and you can go on driving until you are caught by another policeman.
The back-scratching solution to traffic offences is known in official gasettes as corruption. The act itself is known as bribery.
The second option is that you’ll be processed for court, for you to go and tell the judge why you think you are above the law. Normally, the judges don’t mind who you are or think you are. They’ll bunch you up with taxi drivers who are color-blind and cannot distinguished between red-light and green-light.
Others in your company will be articulated truck drivers who are specialists in parking in the middle of the road to cause accidents. At least, you’ll find one lady driver among the 30 offenders in court, and she’ll be shivering uncontrollably. She can’t bear the sight of the judge. A serial traffic offender will be in the group. In his back-pocket is cash to pay the fine.
In some courts, traffic offenders are so many that the judge can be tempted to give them the same fine so as not to burden the court.
NUISANCE
If you are in court for a traffic offence, it is best if you plead guilty, pay a fine and go back to continue breaking the law. Recalcitrance is a way of life on the roads, and some people regard the court fines as a mere nuisance and not something that can reform them.
Now, going back to back-scratching, the Sikaman policemen is probably one of the most miserable you can find in the world. A whole policeman with a wife and four kids has a salary that can only motivate him to take bribe.
Some policemen can’t even afford a cup of coffee before they go to direct traffic to control the early morning rush. At about 9:30 a.m. he must find direction to the nearest kokonte bar to face the wall, otherwise he’ll collapse in the middle of the road. If he doesn’t drink soup, it will not be well with him. Sometimes, people give cash to policemen not because they want to bribe them, but because they feel pity for them. I used to have a Chief Inspector friend who is now retired. He once showed me his pay slip and I had to admit that such a man can only survive by magic or through corruption.
It is the belief that every policeman who is well-paid will not take bribe. If he does, then he is doing so not because he is in need, but because he is either a greedy cop or a criminal from birth.
IMAGE
So corruption within the police service must be looked at vis-a-vis remuneration for all ranks. At least, if a sergeant gets GH¢3.5m a month, he won’t take GH¢2,000 from a driver to denigrate the image of the service.
As a result of the low level of remuneration, many funny things happen and this affects police-public relations. For example, there is the infamous “complainant turns accused” syndrome. It all has to do with the highest bidder becoming the complainant, no matter the nature of the case.
A friend had a case with some Spanish nationals who threatened to kill him when a business deal went awry. He reported to the police and they locked up the Spanish guys.
The next morning I went to the police station and I was shocked. The Spanish guys had been released and in their place was my friend, cooling off.
When people start losing confidence in the police and the law, then whenever they seek justice, they will take the law into their own hands. That is why mob justice is normally prevalent where the police are either incapable or are too corrupt to deal with crime.
So when a criminal is caught, he is either lynched or beaten senseless. Police stations are invaded or burnt down, policemen are attacked and harmed and there is a general public outcry against police methods, brutality, unfairness and even procedures of granting bail.
It is good that policemen are being transferred so that they do not become too familiar with people in their areas of operation.
Generally, however, the police have conducted themselves well, pushing criminals right to the wall and scoring good points on the roads, easing traffic. The robotic police man readily comes to mind.
He used breakdancing to direct traffic and almost turned his job into a crowd-pulling venture in the capital. Motorists even slowed down or stopped to catch a glimpse of the action.
However, in the field of detection, I think there is more. I remember when I was a kid in the north, we were all so fond of my father’s driver, but we didn’t know he was a smuggler turned fugitive.
DETECTIVE
One vacation, he drove us to our hometown and said he wanted to see a relation in Ho. That was the last time we saw him. We did not know that a young detective had been searching for him ever since he escaped arrest three years back.
My father later learnt that the man was drinking beer with a girlfriend in a bar when the detective pounced on him like a cheetah. He was too surprised and wondered how for three years, a detective could be on his trail.
I was about 11 years at the time, and although I felt sorry for the driver, I also doffed my hat to the detective-corporal. He knew his job. I hope we have more of such guys today in the service.
This article was first published
on Saturday, July 16, 2005
Features
Seeing the child, not the label: Supporting children, teens with ADHD
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
Features
Smooth transfer — Part 2
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.”

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