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The crazy life on Sikaman
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Half the number of drivers plying the streets of Accra are, taflatse, either mental patients or on the verge of becoming psychotic. If the driver is a taxi cab driver, then believe me, he is not normal.
I have never encountered an Accra taxi driver who has behaved like a human being who cares for himself, much more for others. In any case some trotro drivers are worse.
The typical Accra taxi driver is half the time so excited you’d think he is having an orgasm. Excited about what? Excited about making more money in a very short span of time. In the process, he carelessly overtakes any moving thing including stray dogs.
If a dog will not allow itself to be overtaken, it is promptly knocked down and ran over to teach it a lesson in traffic lawlessness. After all, what is the worth of foolish dog which exhibits the characteristics of a dead cockroach.
Meet the Accra trotro driver. He behaves like a ball of kenkey. He specialises in crossing other vehicles whether or not they are on top speed. He does so because he can afford to endanger the lives of others. After all, isn’t his pocket economy more important than a few lousy lives? And who says “all die no be die?”
What is more terrible on the roads in Accrą is the role of drivers’ mates in the perennial nonsense. The typical driver’s mate of a century-old trotro is a boy or man who has no patience for himself. He doesn’t smile, unless you leave him a large tip. That is when he’ll grin like an idiot.
The mate is someone who is likely to speak and understand seven local languages, most probably Asante-Twi, Bukom-Ga, Ada-Krobo Ewe, Fante, wrong Hausa and pidgin Frafra. Maybe he has ten years’ experience on the job, beginning with a stint at Kejetia, before moving to Bolgatanga in voluntary exile. He’d finally dash south to Ada Foah, Ho Bankoe, Gomoa Washington before winding up at Kokomlemle in pullover as part-time bookman, part-time mate.
In Accra, life is fast, just like in Lagos, so the mate must live like a smart rat on the run. Armed with seven local languages in addition to pidgin English and broken French, he can do any mate’s job satisfactorily.
A mate’s job is not only to collect money from passengers and hide some in his “supporter” for – personal use. He is also the driver’s unofficial bodyguard and also doubles as the vehicles on- board traffic controller. But his main role is to insult drivers of other vehicles when those drivers dare insult his master or refuse to permit him space to misbehave.
A typical insult usually takes the form of obscenity, and is sexual in nature. “Your face is like that of a he-goat on heat.” Or “Onyaa ye…, a typical Ga insult. If the mate is forced to speak French because his victim isn’t responding to English or Ga, he’d alter the metre-band and explode in incomprehensible French. “Il est tojours aimable avec e!”
Verbal missiles
The roads in Accra are indeed ruled by these mates who can really deliver verbal missiles. If a female driver annoys them, they can fire back. “Your body is fine, but as for your face, God no gree. Kwasia like that!”
When the driver is tired, it is sometimes the duty of the mate to take over power. When that happens, the car is bound for the mortuary. Fact is, the mate can be inexperienced and may mistake the accelerator for the brake, whereupon the vehicle becomes obituaristic in character.
I side with the man who keeps on saying that on the roads of Accra, everybody is a mad person, and he is the only wise man.
Of course, private car owners cannot also escape blame. In fact, some of them drive exactly like taxi drivers. Actually, they are taxi drivers in form and mentality; the only difference is that they appear in coat and tie.
Some private car owners do silly things especially when ladies are perched in the front seat. It is like they are in heaven they’d be busy talking, gesticulating, whining, crooning and ignoring traffic signs. You’d see them laughing, moaning and dancing behind the wheel. If the mobile phone rings the situation can be tragic.
Some people can be driving and be on the phone for 30 minutes. A man was on the phone for close to 30 minutes and when he finished talking, he realised that he was no longer in his car but lying naked at the mortuary gate, ready to be hauled into the cold-room.
Mr J.M. Y. Amegashie, Acting Chief Executive of the Vehicle Examination and Licensing Division (VELD) is doing a great job on Radio GAR, giving tit-bits on safe driving almost every morning. Among other things, he gives reasons why you must undergo a driving test and present your vehicle for test examination.
The problem with people is that they think when they can move a vehicle, then they are entitled to a licence. The other day, a learner was undergoing a driving test and when he was asked to reverse the car, it was almost a disaster.
The man reversed the car alright. But before he realised it, the car was breaking down trees in a nearby bush. The man obviously mistook the accelerator for the brake and pumped it hard.
Mr Amegashie doesn’t like that.
This article was first published on July 18, 1998
GHANA’S Parliament is a peaceful one. The arguments on the floor of the House can be fierce, but the House doesn’t catch fire. Ghana’s democracy has passed the acid-test of constitutional pluralism, and her legislature is a model of democratic beauty others are learning from.
Sometimes it is edifying following proceedings in Parliament and you are likely to catch the voice of Honourable Alban Bagbin in full flight. He doesn’t talk much. His English vocabulary does the talking.
Last week, I heard another MP talking on bad dressing, and I must congratulate him on his brilliant exhibition of vocabulary, delivered in Westminster tradition.
Such explosive delivery titillates the floor of the House and brings joy to members and Mr Speaker.
In the parliament of some countries, there is no need for such niceties. The floor of the House is regarded as a battle ground. Others, including lady members, see it as a boxing ring, where the spoken word is often jettisoned and supplanted with punches and upper-cuts.
PART-TIME
So the average parliamentarian trains part-time as a boxer, in case boxing skills will be needed in the House to iron out knotty points.
The ladies’ pedicure and manicure are carefully designed to fulfil a dual purpose. One is to showcase trendiness and the other is to scratch the faces of opponents in the House whether they are ladies or gentlemen.
Sometimes, the Speaker has to keep shouting and banging for well over 15 minutes as a recalcitrant MP dashes across and grabs the tie of another MP, thus precipitating a free-for-all brawl. Some MPs return home with a half nose, a missing left ear and a double forehead.
None of the offending parties is sanctioned because brawling in parliament is seen as a democratic process, since some MPs are so stubborn that only a sidekick to the ribs can mellow them. Meanwhile, a free-for-all is good exercise for the MPs, some of whom have grown too fat due to over-feeding.
Fortunately, the parliament of Sikaman has a civil democratic culture and debates get fierce but punches are not unleashed. For comic relief however, MPs do some break dancing once in a while.
When ROPAB was passed into law, some MPs caused a stir by bursting into song and dance. Mr. Speaker was be wildered, but obviously pleased that his announcement of the passage of the bill had brought joy to the House.
Others were not happy, though. The bill and the debates had caused them enough distress. As for the passage, it was like cutting their throats. They groaned in their hearts. No punches, no karate. That is democracy in its maturing stage. It is tempered with reason and civility. One day, it will be their turn to laugh and dance.
Now, the MP who spoke on bad dressing did a good job by all standards and added value to his delivery by going highfalutin. He wanted a law to be enacted against bad dressing, because it was not good for society.
What constitutes bad dressing? That is a very difficult question. Judging what is good or bad as far as dressing is concerned will obviously depend on the setting or context.
For example, going virtually naked on a holiday beach is considered good dressing. But when a man and his wife storm a church room in their birth-time suits (naked) the pastor and his deacons will surely take cover. It means a sartorial revolution has precipitated and only the Holy Spirit can hold tempers at bay.
STYLISH
In the streets of Sikaman, a lady with a very short skirt is admired by some as trendy and stylish. Others would think she is indecent and a bad influence. But the question that arises ultimately is this: Don’t people have the right to wear what they want to wear, so long as the unseemly parts of their bodies are not laid bare?
Certainly, nobody will go totally naked in the streets, unless the person is either in-sane or is a Black Stars supporter painted in the national colours. Even then, he’d be in what is called ‘pioto,’ with his ‘instrument’ well-positioned. That is called proper dressing.
So in the streets, this kind of dressing will be considered good or bad depending on the setting and the extent of exposure of the private parts (breasts, thighs, lower back, buttocks, etc).
Personally, I feel the churches should be very scrupulous about the dressing of those who go in to worship. The ushers should be tasked with ushering away badly-dressed worshippers. Incidentally, they are the worshippers who like the front pews, and the pastor is so distracted he can’t preach any meaningful sermon.
However, a law on dressing is something I won’t advocate, for the simple reason that, first, there is no clear definition of what is bad dressing and second, society must be left to evolve its own dress culture so that fashion and creativity in fashion design will not be stifle Any law to regulate dressing will kill such creativity.
This article was first published on Saturday July, 2006
Most people think stress is just in your head. When you feel overwhelmed, overworked, or emotionally drained, you might think you just need a good night’s sleep or a quick mental break.
However, science and biology show us something entirely different. Chronic, long-term stress is not just an emotion—it is a full-body physical condition. When you live in a constant state of survival mode, pushing past your limits without real rest, your body pays a very heavy physical price.
Here is a clear, step-by-step look at how ongoing stress physically breaks down the human body, explained simply.
Step 1: The endless flood of stress chemicals
What happens normally: When you face a sudden emergency, your body releases stress hormones like adrenaline and cortisol. They give you a quick burst of energy, speed up your heart, and help you react fast. This is a great survival tool for short bursts.
How stress breaks you down: If you never truly relax, your body never turns off that alarm. Your bloodstream stays flooded with cortisol and adrenaline day after day. Over time, having these chemicals constantly sloshing around acts like a slow poison. It damages your blood vessels, raises your blood pressure, messes with your metabolism, and even wears down your DNA, making you age faster.
Step 2: The silent internal fire (Chronic Inflammation)
What happens normally: When your brain senses danger or stress, it assumes you might get hurt, so it tells your immune system to cause inflammation (swelling and heat) to fight off germs and heal injuries.
How stress breaks you down: When stress lasts for months or years, your immune system gets confused and leaves that “fire” burning permanently. Instead of healing an injury, this silent internal inflammation starts attacking your healthy cells, joints, and organs. Over time, it paves the way for serious health issues, heart trouble, and total body fatigue.
Step 3: Turning your muscles into armor (Fascial Hardening)
What happens normally: Your body is wrapped in a web of strong connective tissue called fascia that holds your muscles, bones, and organs together. When you face pressure or trauma, that tissue automatically tightens up to protect you like a suit of armor.
How stress breaks you down: If you stay tense for years, that tissue never softens back up. It freezes in place, creating tight, painful physical knots (often called emotional lesions). Blood and oxygen can’t flow easily through those locked-up areas, leaving you stiff, aching, and physically unable to truly let go of tension.
Step 4: Burning out your body’s engine (Nervous System Overdrive)
What happens normally: Your nervous system has two main gears:
The Gas Pedal (fight-or-flight mode for dealing with emergencies).
The Brake Pedal (rest-and-digest mode for healing and repairing your body).
How stress breaks you down: Chronic stress forces your foot down hard on the gas pedal 24/7. Your heart beats faster than it should, your digestion shuts down, and your body is denied the deep rest it needs to repair itself. Eventually, your heart and nervous system run completely out of fuel from sheer exhaustion.
Reclaiming your health and sovereignty
Chronic stress wears you down slowly by keeping your body chemically toxic, inflamed, and locked-up in physical armour, and running on empty.
By understanding that stress is a physical breakdown rather than just a bad mood, you can stop glorifying endless endurance. It allows you to recognise when your body is screaming for a reset, helping you shift away from burnout and back toward true physical calm, balance, and sovereignty.
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