Features
The epidemic of failing marriages
Observing the typical Sikaman family from afar, one can really be amused. You won’t fall to see a family member behaving exactly like a Vice-President and another doubling like a Trades Union Congress (TUC) man.
There is also every chance for you to meet an opposition flag bearer and if you’re lucky, you’d meet the President himself, His Excellency Sir Kwame Korkorti, commander-in-chief of the family forces, head of state of the Republic of Korkorti and Sons.
There are various family types with some having the wife as the President for reasons too obvious to mention. They are the breadwinners, and on top of that, they wield the power of the laddle; meaning that the portofolio of the kitchen is under their armpit.
In such a situation, the husband ceases to be a power broker. At best he is a linguist. He doesn’t make the rules, he interprets them. Such a family is a stable one because the woman is a better manager of family resources for the fact that she doesn’t spend on alcohol. She may take ‘quarter’ once in a while, but that is only to trigger off a dull appetite against fufu and groundnut soup.
The sad thing about the Sikaman family is that many of them do not last these days. It is also a fact akin to a worrisome global trend. In the United States, three out of every five marriages end on the rocks. In Russia getting married today and getting divorced the next dawn is a common phenomenon.
Press reports on the Russian situation denote a sad palaver of a super-power society. Russian women are blamed for most of the divorces. According to observers, they are unfaithful to their husbands, a factor that has skyrocketed the incidence of the divorce comedy.
Some, however, blame capitalism on the bad turn of events. With a liberal political and economic atmosphere, everyone is said to be liberated, adventurous wives inclusive. So their husbands must bear with the situation or quit. No compromise!
The Russian situation isn’t an isolated one, though. The whole palaver is that divorce is becoming a global epidemic, a disease no vaccine is able to prevent. I was sad when Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley got divorced.
The lady claimed Mike could not do “things” to her. “He didn’t know I ever existed”, she bemoaned the last days of a tragedy-hit marriage. If that is true, then I’m sorry for her. She should have taken someone like Kokotako. It would have been a different story altogether, because the guy regularly drinks the dregs of palmwine. No lady comes and goes back without a dream in her heart.
Tyson and Lady Diana
Talk about the marriage of Mike Tyson to the beautiful Robin Givens and you’ll realise how it all started fairy-tale-like and ended in a bedroom that and often been transformed into a boxing ring – a mini Madison Square Garden.
When Tyson took Givens and her mother to Russia, I guess the cold entered into Mike’s head and he chased wife and mother around a hotel swearing to kill them.
The old lady did not know she was a good sprinter until the occasion presented itself. And she ran as if she had mad-cow disease. The die was certainly cast. In a television appearance with Mike, Givens told the interviewer that her husband suffered psychiatric problems and beat her. Mike could not bear it any longer. They divorced.
The marriage between Prince Charles and Lady Diana and its tragic coda is one that has brought doubts whether the monarchy is worth perpetuating or dismantling. My own opinion is that the monarchy is no longer worth a dime. Not with all these sexual tragicomedies inundating the centre of the royal family by a relentless osmosis.
Anyway, before the marriage, an astrologer announced it would not last. The prince, a Scorpio and the princess a Cancer, both of the water group were supposed to experience a very boring marriage. With a supposedly incompatible birth numbers and whatever, the astrologer declared the marriage was disaster-bound.
It is not, however, clear whether it is a prophecy come true or the marriage could have been saved if both had wanted to preserve the honour of the monarchy. And with the prince and princess having been very liberal with desecrating the temple of God in adulterous escapades, the monarchy has lost the moral legitimacy of its existence. Moreso when other members of the royal family like Fergie have been too morally wayward for the sanctity of and reverence for the throne.
In Sikaman, the cause of rock-bound marriage include money palaver, infidelity, sexual incompatibility, boredom and common snoring. Well, some wives complain that when their husband snore, the foundation of the building shakes. So they experience mini earthquakes at night and cannot sleep. So they must go to their parents and complain.
The palaver is that in some cases the women out-snore the men, but the men rarely complain. It is normally the women who complain to their parents as a first step to quitting the marriage.
“I am terrified”, a wife will tell her parents. “I can’t sleep even if I take valium.
When he takes akpeteshie before supper, it is worse. It is like his nose has been plugged to high-voltage electricity. I can’t stand it any longer. One day the building will collapse on us”.
“But didn’t you know the man was a dangerous snorer before you decided to stay with him?” her father would ask.
“At first it was not so serious. Now it has become like a criminal offence since he is depriving me of my sleep. He has to be put before the High Court”.
Problems associated with marriage can be minimised with counselling before and after marriage.
Very good marriage counsellors teach you how to become sexually compatible, how to resolve family crisis, how to bring excitement into a dull marriage and how to tone down a vibrating nose.
This is what the churches do these days. They have trained marriage counsellors that take prospective couples through the theory and practice of marriage. Perhaps if Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie had been counselled, it would have been a different matter today.
And Lady Diana would still have been in the arms of the Prince of Wales.
This article was first published on Saturday, November 2, 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
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“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
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