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The saga of being Ewe…(Part 2)
That I was born Ewe, as others were born Asante, Akuapem, Fante, Ga-Dangbe, Nzema, Dagomba, Gonja etc etc, is no accident. It is a divine work of the Creator of the universe for the universality of humankind.
No one, therefore, is born with a divine right to be superior to another, irrespective of their race, colour or creed. If it were so, there is a question this Creator will have to answer: what kind of God or Father He is to pit one child against the other? If God Himself is divisive, then He does not deserve our attention. The epoch of racial gods has atrophied into the universal Godhood.
No one is brought into this world to be a bigot. A lack of education and enlightenment has bred insecurity in some people who vent their inadequacies on others. That way, they feel a certain relevance. They become notoriously belligerent and hate others who endeavour to be at peace with themselves and with others.
It is, therefore, preposterous for one group of people to look down on another. It was to forster national cohesion that Osagyefo Dr Kwame Nkrumah came up with the idea of boarding secondary schools so that boys and girls from different parts of the country could live and study under the same roof. It worked well in our time, but I must admit that it is not the same today.
One day in 2004 my youngest daughter, who was in one of the all-girls schools in the capital, came home with a classmate, who was Ga, on mid-term holidays. Out of the blue, my daughter asked me why other tribes hated the Ewe so much. The question gave me a giddy feeling instantly. What answer was I to give my 17-year old? But I needed to know what precipitated such a question.
In their boarding house, some of the students said their parents had warned them that when they grew up, they should not marry Ewe. What reasons did their parents give them, I asked. None whatsoever. All I could tell her was that she should ignore such unproductive chatter from ignorant parents. But I knew it was a serious issue.
What was I to do? Then the opportunity came when the school called an emergency Parent/Teacher Association meeting to solicit funds for a quick-fix of a problem. Parents came to the meeting in their numbers and the Assembly Hall was full. We donated cash as much as we could and the executives got busy with tallying the amount raised.
I sought permission from the Chairman to make a statement, which was granted. To get the attention of the Assembly, my first statement was, “Some of us need to be ashamed of being parents.” I got the attention I needed because it sent a signal that I was up to something serious. I went on, “I wish I were non-Ewe to make what I’m about to say meaningful.”
I then went straight to the point, telling them what question my daughter put to me, and in the company of a mate who was not Ewe. You could have heard a pin drop in the auditorium.. “Why poison the minds of your teenage girls with tribal bigotry, while President Kufuor is busy preaching national cohesion and unity? What kind of parents are we?”
I then asked a rhetorical question, “Assuming these poisoned daughters we breed here get involved in a vehicular accident and the first person to appear on the scene is Ewe, do you and I expect these daughters to accept help or decline because the helper is Ewe?” There was complete silence.
I went on to say that teenage minds are too fragile for such toxic brainwash. They must be allowed to grow up and make their own informed choices.”What future is there for this country with this kind of mindset if these girls grow up to take leadership positions?” I asked.
I could make out the late Minister Kwadwo Baah Wiredu, the late Cyril Acolatse of GBC and ace broadcaster, George Crabbe in the audience because I knew them personally.
After giving the parents a piece of my mind, the applause was deafening though I did not do it for the applause; I did it for Mother Ghana.
After we were done, Cyril and George were first to congratulate me on the courage to confront the issue in the manner I did. A parent who said he was Asante but hated such bigotry also came to tell me his daughters came home with same tales. He was happy I brought it up.
My daughter hooked her arm to mine like in a wedding march to see me off. The gaze on us was palpable and my pride in my daughter was on Cloud 9. But it did not end there. On her visit home the following term’s midterm, she told me that the students who revealed their parents’ attitudes were back to report that their parents berated them for discussing those things in the boarding house.
Dear reader, my true narrative above mirrors what is festering in our country at this moment. Speak Ewe in public and others are quick to tell you that no one understands ‘that’ language. Not only in public but at the workplace, on buses, airplanes and at almost every conceivable place.
I will stand up to anyone who tries to look down on another because of their ethnicity. Why would a Ga look down on an Asante, an Ewe on a Fante or a Bono on a Grushie, the tribe of my maternal great-grandmother? This must not be allowed. At times I am minded to ask if it’s the other people we hate or their language or both? Personally, I am not enamoured of the Brits and the French, but I love and speak both their languages.
I love Ghana to bits. It is the only country I call my own and take pride in calling myself Ghanaian. Let no one tell me differently. And I believe all of us must feel the same way. We are said to be the most welcoming country our side of earth, yet that hardly manifests in the way we relate among ourselves. What ashame!
I must be as proud as an Ewe as you must be as an Akan, Ga-Dangbe, Nzema, Dagomba, Kusasi, Wala. But collectively, let us all join hands in being proud Ghanaians. My friends are surprised I do not support any football club in Ghana but can stay awake to watch matches involving all our national teams in international tournaments. Nothing freaks me more than watching our female teams at play.
Lest I forget: I couldn’t be more proud when my youngest daughter called me one day and said, “Dad, a full-blooded Asante guy wants me for a wife.” I responded that if she wanted him, she had my blessing. They are a happy couple over 10 years on.
Some Akan female friends tell me to recommend young Ewe men for their daughters, and their reason is simple: since Akan inherit maternally and Ewe are patrilineal, their offspring would inherit both ways. If this can breed national unity and cohesion, why not?
Writer’s email address:
akofa45@yahoo.com
By Dr Akofa K. Segbefia
THE state of feeling rejected, could be a terrifying experience especially for those who have become used to fame. If not properly addressed, it could lead to depression and the consequences, could be disastrous.
When you are on top of your game in whatever profession you find yourself such that you become famous, a lot of people try to associate with you. The phone never ceases to ring and one is tempted to feel loved and very important.
When a disaster strikes and the fame or the money which was the source of the attraction fades away, the circle of friends and fans begin to shrink and the phone will start to stop ringing until the call stops voting completely.
You will be shocked at how people you considered friends, will no longer be calling you or pay casual visits as they used to. You will begin to notice that messages you leave after calling them and not getting a response are not replied to and that is when you begin to know who your true friends are.
One of the most popular movie stars was an actress called Sharon Stone. In an interview with one of the media houses that was published, she spoke about how people who should have come around to encourage her in her moment of depression, shunned her. The calls stopped coming.
This is what the Bible admonishes that the arm of flesh will fail you and therefore we should put our trust in God. It could be a very frightening experience and can easily lead to depression.
Human nature being what it is, people will want to get close if things are okay. Everybody wants to associate themselves with interesting things, famous people, rich people etc for mainly selfish reasons.
We need to develop the habit of putting our trust in God and relying less on human beings. The lesson we have to take along in life is that, no one marries his or her enemy so how come people who took vows that they will love each other become so hostile to each other that they want to go their separate ways in life? Such is the reality of life.
It is therefore prudent for people to recognise that, life is full of uncertainties and so there is the need to prepare your mind for uncertainties so that when they occur, they do not disorganise your mental sanity.
A lot of people have experienced situations where people who they could have sworn will never betray their trust have disappointed them when they were through challenging moments.
If there is one thing famous people should desire, it should be the ability to identify who are true friends are. Countless stories abound regarding incidence of celebrities who have lost their shine and their wives divorcing them soon after.
It is sometimes useful as a famous or rich person to sign a prenuptial agreement before marriage to safeguard or protect yourself from any future unpleasant surprises.
People can be very pretentious these days, it goes both ways. There is this real life story where a man married a divorced wealthy woman and convinced her to sell her house so they could build a new one together, with the excuse that people are gossiping that he is being housed by a woman.
The woman agreed and they put up a new building. After a few years the man asked for a divorce, only for the woman to realise that the land on which the building was situated, was bought in the man’s name.
This can drive a person insane, if you are not mentally tough and this happens to you. When people hear that you are homeless, a lot of your so-called friends will stop calling, so that you do not become a burden on them.
By Laud Kissi-Mensah
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‘But, er …. I don’t even know your name’.
‘Paul. Paul Allotey. I’m Sarah, by the way. Paul, why don’t you leave me here, since this is the last important thing I’m doing today’.
‘Okay. Now Sarah. I was just thinking. You will be here at the cafe for about an hour. By then it will be about twelve thirty. Then, you would be thinking of buying yourself some lunch, to eat here or to take home. So if you would please allow me, I will take you to one of the nicest eating places in town, and after you have sorted that one out, then I can drop you home. Just that one errand, then I won’t bother you again’.
‘You are not bothering me at all. You are being very kind to me. And I just realised you are a mind reader too. The last item on my agenda was lunch’.
‘I’m so glad I appeared at your doorstep, just in time’.
‘Okay. Now Paul, since you say the cafe is a comfortable place, let’s go in together, and you can do your work while I get my application done’.
‘Okay, Sarah. Thanks. Let’s go’.
We got back in the car at eleven forty-five.
‘So where are we going, Paul?’
‘To Royalty restaurant. It’s a twenty minute drive away’.
‘So, do you enjoy your job?’
‘Most certainly. I won’t change it, not even to be President. And am I right to say that you are preparing to enter the university?’
‘That’s my plan. I hope it works’.
‘It will, if you are determined, and disciplined. You look very much like a disciplined person’.
‘Thank you very much’.
We arrived at Royalty in twenty-five minutes, ‘You are joining me for lunch, Paul’.
‘Thanks for the honour, Sarah. But the bill is on me’.
‘Aren’t you taking on too much for one day?’
‘I never do anything that is bigger than me, Sarah’.
Over the next hour and a half, we discussed fashion, local and international politics, and sports, as we ate and relaxed. Finally, he drove me to the shop.
‘I will never forget you, Paul’.
‘I’m glad to have been helpful. But if you don’t mind, I’ll say it again, your husband is extremely lucky. You are really beautiful’.
‘Thanks again. But do you mind if I call you sometime in the future?’
‘Certainly not. Let me write it here. I will not ask for your number, for obvious reasons. But I will be looking forward to hearing from you. And hopefully, I will see you next month, when I call to drop your bill’.
‘Okay Paul. See you then’. What a lovely day, I said to myself as I opened the front door. I closed the shop and got home by seven. I went straight to the bedroom, stood in the mirror and took a good look at myself. ‘You are a very beautiful woman, Sarah. Never forget that’. I will not forget that, again.
Over the next several weeks, Martin and I had very little to do with each other. In the morning he ate his breakfast and after a shabby ‘I’m going’, he left. He came home around eight at the earliest, ate his dinner and, already soaked in beer, went off to sleep.
He spent the greater part of the weekends at the club house with his friends, playing tennis and partying. My mind was focused on furthering my education, so I didn’t complain to him, and didn’t bother to inform my parents about what was happening. I had decided that I would only take action if he lifted his hand against me again. I spent my free time reading all manner of interesting stuff on the internet, and chatting with my sister on WhatsApp.
One evening, he came home at about eight, rushed to the bedroom and rushed out. An envelope, obviously containing money, dropped out of his pocket, and I picked it up and followed him. I was going to call him and give it to him, but I noticed that there was a young woman in the car, so I went back in, counted it and put it in a drawer in the hall. He came back after some ten minutes.
‘Excuse me, I dropped an envelope containing money. You must have seen it’.
‘Yes, I saw it. Actually, I followed you, and was about to call you and hand it over to you when I realised that there was a woman in the car, so I came back in. I counted it. One thousand cedis.
‘Well let me have it. I have to be going’.
‘I will let you have it if you will tell me who the woman in the car is, and why you are going to give her that amount of money’.
‘Listen, if you waste my time, I will teach you a lesson you will never forget. Give me the money now!’
‘Here’s what we will do, Martin. I know you will give money to her anyway, so I will give it to you, if you will withdraw the threat you just issued. But I want you to know that I will be taking some steps from tomorrow. Things are getting out of hand’.
‘Okay, I’m sorry I threatened you. Can you please give me the money’. I handed it over to him, and he ran out’.
The following morning, I waited for him to finish having breakfast, and told him I wanted to have a word with him urgently.
‘You better be quick. You know I’m going to work’.
‘Well, I want to inform you that I will inform my parents, and your parents, about the situation in this house. As I said yesterday, things are getting out of hand. You spend most of your time drinking. You get drunk every evening, and through the weekend. And you are also spending your time and money on a prostitute’.
‘How dare you? One more stupid word from you …’
‘Am I lying, Martin? You have just started life, yet you are behaving like a rich, elderly man who has already seen his children through university, and can afford a life of fun. As I said, I’m going to inform our parents. Maybe your parents can straighten you out before it is too late’.
‘Look, we can talk this evening. It’s nothing like what you are saying’. He walked away, shocked.
That evening, I was expecting to have a meaningful discussion with him, but his mother called early in the evening to offer me some ‘advice’. Her son had called to say that certain developments at home were disturbing him so much that they were beginning to affect his work.
And, ‘as a loving mother to her daughter’, she was advising me to submit to my husband, and support him in prayer, and not ‘drive him from home’. Men would always be men, and she was telling me ‘from experience’ that no matter how much time Martin stayed away from home, he would always come home to me.
She had been a young wife before, so she understood the challenges I was facing. So I could be assured that if I followed her advice, all would be well. And, of course, she didn’t allow me to tell my side of the story.
Martin came home very late, and very drunk. And from the next morning, he carried on as before. With some hesitation, I called my dad and told him all that had gone on.
‘Well, my daughter. I’m not going to say “I told you so”. I was only trying to protect you. So here’s what we’ll do. Continue doing the best you can, and try not to give him any excuse to harm you, but if things continue to deteriorate, I will take you back.
A couple of days later, my cousin Dinah arrived in Accra from Brussels, having completed her medical course. With Martin’s agreement, I went to Koforidua and spent a couple of days. I spent most of the time chatting about her experiences in the US, but we also discussed my relationship with Martin, and she endorsed Dad’s decision to take action if Martin’s behaviour did not change after two weeks Elaine informed Mom and Dad. We endorsed Dad’s decision to take action if there was no change in two weeks.
Dinah returned with me to Takoradi. Her plan was to spend a couple of weeks, and return to Accra to be posted. I called Paul Allotey, and asked if he would meet her for lunch and, if possible, show her some interesting spots. Delighted, he suggested that we meet at Royalty the next day.
I told Martin about it, to remove any possibility of future disagreement over ‘going out with men’.
‘It’s fine with me’, he said, ‘if, of all the people who could show your sister round this town, you chose a borla man. Doesn’t that indicate the kind of person you are?’
‘ First of all, Martin’, I’ve spoken to him a few times, and he comes across as a decent guy, so I think it is rather unfortunate that you are writing him off when you don’t know him’.
By Ekow de Heer
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