Features
The saga of the dancing kiosk

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IN every society, there are people who please themselves and do things their own way, whether people will talk about them or not. Check out the man who, by some good fortune, came by some money to purchase a beautiful Benz bus. Instead of becoming a bossy transport owner to whom daily accounts will be rendered, he decides otherwise.
He hires a driver but no driver’s mate. He becomes the mate himself and the bold inscription on the back of the bus is ‘MAN NO FOOL’. Of course, he does not rank himself a fool. He has long observed the way drivers collaborate with mates to play Kwaku Ananse tricks with daily accounts. He is far and above such tricks.
What about the married man who decides to enforce the principles of division of labour? Early one morning, he decreed that he would start doing the daily market shopping all by himself because he suspected that his wife was “tearing chobo”
This domestic tyrant had, a month before this unilateral family decree, arrogated to himself the power of the kitchen ladle. According to him, he was not feeling the chop-money’s worth in his stomach and, therefore, decided to overthrow his wife and establish a new kitchen regime.
He declared himself the chief cook and the wife a steward. He told his enquiring friends that he was forced to take the stringent measure because whenever his wife fetched the soup, his share looked like that of a prisoner although he is the one who “moves the chopmoney”.
He calls his actions “domestic pragmatism” and when the wife completes the cooking, she arranges the plates and bowls and calls out to the chop-money man to come and fetch the soup and allocate the meat.
Also, consider the noble ways of a man and wife who have a kiosk in which they sell their wares. Because they cannot carry their goods home back and forth everyday, and taking care not to be burgled, they decide to sleep in the kiosk every night although they have a house.
Last week Tuesday, they were fast asleep when the rains started. Deep in slumber, each one of them began dreaming he (or she) was dancing in a jamboree. It was indeed a real boogey, but two people side by side and dreaming simultaneously about dancing was too mysterious on a rainy day to be true.
When they came around and opened their eyes they realised that is was not a disco night, after all. The kiosk in which they were sleeping was rather water-borne and was doing the Michael Jackson dance, tossing up and down enroute to the abode of death. The magnificent dream dance turned out to be a Music-For-Your Dancing Kiosk.
Unfortunately, the dream dancers did not die in the floods. They lived to tell their story. They were one of the fortunate ones who escaped death by the skin of their teeth. Others were not so fortunate with water.
Death and Mourning!
It turned out that on that Tuesday, 24 residents of Accra were sentenced to death by water squad. It was a pitiful experience for many when the rains, the heaviest in 59 years, destroyed property, drowned human beings and animals and precipitated the worst traffic jam that ever hit the capital.
I was at home when Radio GAR (no longer GBC FM) announced that the situation was quite precarious and that the flood action was happening live Circle, the Odaw River overflowing, blah, blah, blah! Well, when you live in a planned city like Tema, you see rain but not floods and boogeying kiosks.
Neck Insurance
I had gotten dressed up for work but the announcement made me take off everything and got firmly tucked in bed as the rain drizzled even at about 9:30 a.m. having fallen from 11:00 p.m. the previous day with such intensity that I was surprised Tema was not inundated.
When I got to Circle the next day and saw the extent of damage, I was overawed. I heard people had to transform into human transport, carrying people in waist-deep water across for a fee of ₵500. Luckily I wasn’t around to be carried. I would have been charged ₵1,500 because the carrier would have had to first, insure his poor neck against dislocation since my weight is quite helluva! In any event of injury he would have tossed me into the water, anyway, to save his neck. You joke with your neck and you’ll die young!
When I got to the office on Wednesday, it was a mess. Workers and labourers were carting out soaked material and drying the offices. I had left my office radio on the carpet floor and I guess it did a bit of swimming before it was rescued. When it got dried a bit, I tried it and it cackled to life.
Jesus Christ, the radio must be holy-ghost filled. Perhaps, it walked on the water. I was so glad and tuned in to BBC, hoping something would be said about the floods in Sikaman. Nothing! Only Bosnian Serbs and their atrocities and that kind of boring stuff. People killing themselves and never stopping,
And it came to pass that Mr Nat Nunoo-Amarteifio, the AMA boss, came on the air later on to undertake a post-mortem of the disaster. Among other things, he talked about the level of the sea and lagoon rising to meet the floods. As for that explanation I was not convinced at all, but I won’t comment
You see, one veteran journalist whom I respect so much because of his prophetic genius, is TOM DORKENOO. He is, a man from whom I often take counsel because of his experience in life and journal-ism. Whatever he predicts comes to pass and recently I suggested that he should establish a church so that he could prophesy both day and night.
Uncle Tom as he is fondly known, wrote an article in his column two years ago, enumerating in graphic detail, reasons why Accra is a disaster area as far as floods are concerned, concluding that if the authorities do not take radical steps in tackling the drainage issue and allied problems, we must expect deaths and disaster in all forms and ramifications.
A year later, people died in the floods. The dose was repeated this year with 24 people losing their lives. Many have lost their animals and property and have been thrown into debts they can never redeem.
It is not enough for Nunoo-Amarteifio to come on the air to talk about actions he wants to take concerning the drainage system and unauthorised buildings. He should get down to work and see to it that everything that is contributing to the yearly floods is tackled appropriately.
If he is in doubt, he should look for back copies of the ‘Weekly Spectator’ and scan for Uncle Tom’s article. Tom is a man of the environment. He has talked extensively on floods and earthquakes.
Yes EARTHQUAKES! How prepared are we?
This article was first published on Saturday, July 15, 1995
Features
This sanitation issue!
Some things do not change in this country. The rains shall fall in May, and June and even July. That is out of our control. It is an act of God and he decides how often and the intensity. Who are we to question God?
However, there is something man-made that is gradually becoming something that is also not changing and it is worrying. A week ago the President initiated a national clean up campaign to address the issue of sanitation in the country, especially in Accra.
Citizens enthusiastically got involved and engaged in cleaning their environment and other places but afterwards, the issue that is becoming a permanent feature resisting change, reared its ugly head again.
The rubbish and the silt that were dug out of the drains, were heaped on the shoulders of the drains and left there. Any little rain will render the whole effort futile because the rubbish and silt will be washed right back into the drains.
This is what is not changing in the country and the various assemblies must ensure that this issue is dealt with and must become a thing of the past.
There is the need to engage the citizenry across board, in connection with mindset change, as far as sanitation is concerned. At this juncture, I must acknowledge the thoughtful initiative of the current crop of Abenfo (i.e. students both present and past) of SUTESCO of Suhum, with support of the school administration for decorating the area under the overpass on the Accra Kumasi highway, near the school, with fascinating paintings. This is an example worthy of emulation and makes me proud as one of the Abenfo.
An example not worthy of emulation is an eyesore currently existing behind a cemetery along the Atta Mills link as you branch left, off the main Accra-Cape Coast road at Old barrier and head towards the beach through Aplaku, Bortianor, Oshiyie, Korobite through to Tuba and beyond.
The drain along the walls of the cemetery also lying astride the road, is choked with silt and rubbish. This has created a problem near the end of the cemetery wall just before you enter Bortianor.
Water has accumulated at that point, creating potholes and also gradually creating a channel across the road, creating a nightmare for motorists using that route. This route is the main link between parts of Kasoa and the Accra – Cape Coast road and whenever it rains and the Atala stretch of the road is blocked, that is the route most motorists from Kasoa uses.
It is also the route used by tourists going to the beaches along the sea of the towns stretching from Bortianor to Kokrobite and so it does not speak well of us, as a nation at all.
A few days ago, I had to pass through Tema Station, the place where a major clean up exercise was conducted just fews days ago and it was very shocking to see the level of wanton littering that had taken place.
One begins to wonder if this whole exercise initiated by the President was worth it. People just do not care and are not willing to change their attitude towards sanitation.
We cannot continue like this and to win this battle against insanitary conditions in our environment, the NCCE must be resourced to embark on a serious educational drive. The MMDCEs must also be held accountable for sanitation lapses in their administrative areas, by making sanitation part of their KPIs among other innovative policies. This is one of the surest ways to overcome this sanitation challenge confronting us. God bless.
By Laud Kissi-Mensah
Features
Disqualified — Part 1
THE discussion lasted only ten minutes. Mr Philip Sampson, Eunice’s father, had asked to see him, and he was led to the sitting room for the first time. Mr Sampson indicated that he should sit down.
‘Yes, Kakraba. I know that you have been, er, friends with Eunice for some months now, and naturally, as her father, I thought it would be important to meet you, and to reach an understanding with you on, er, some basic issues. So, I hear you are a graduate in building technology. Now, tell me about what you do’.
‘Okay. I worked with the Electricity Company for two years after National Service. During that time I interacted with some lawyers and land surveyors on our project sites, so I suggested to some of them that we take some dilapidated buildings in some parts of Accra, rehabilitate them and find new owners. Soon after starting that I got a job as Project Manager with a group of development agencies who are executing projects in the Northern Region, so I have been balancing the two positions’.
‘I see. That sounds like a bold step. So is it going well, financially?’
‘Well, sir, I absolutely enjoy what I’m doing now. Financially, I would only say that I am a work in progress. A lot of what I’m doing now involves some risk taking, as it involves trust issues with land and property owners.
I am partnering with prominent lawyers and land surveyors, so I am not taking any serious risks. So currently I am doing okay financially, but it will take me some time before I reach the level where I can say I am comfortable financially.’
‘Okay. Now tell me about your parents’.
‘My father was an Agricultural Extension Officer, so we spent some time at several locations with him. He is now enjoying his retirement. And my mother is a retired nurse. I have three elder sisters, all married’.
‘So you live with your parents?’
‘Yes and no. My dad built his home on one acre at Pokuase, so he gave me one plot, and I have done a three-bedroom house, where I live’.
‘Okay, fine. Thanks for the answers. You see, in addition to my position socially, I spent many years in the diplomatic service, so I’m sure you will understand that I need to ensure that my kids, especially my daughters, maintain suitable relationships. For now I think it is fine that you and Eunice are friends. I’m sure you understand what I mean’.
‘Yes sir. I understand perfectly well.’
‘Great, okay, that would be all.’
Kakraba stood up, bowed and said thank you to Mr Sampson, and walked to the garden where his girlfriend Eunice, her mother Mrs Elaine Sampson and her two elder sisters, Yvonne and Emma, were seated, busily discussing some dresses being offered for sale online.
‘So,’ Mrs Elaine asked him, ‘you and Daddy had a good discussion?’
‘Yes, Ma. We certainly did. I really appreciate Dad for the discussion. It was really good.’
‘Great. Although he has met you here on quite a number of occasions, I think it is good that you have met for a chat.’
‘Yes indeed, Ma, and I really appreciate it. So Eunice, I will be on my way. I will call.’
Eunice led him to his car, and after driving off he exhaled and shook his head. Although he had long concluded that Eunice’s family were so snobbish that a future relationship with her would be problematic, this discussion, or was it interrogation, had virtually cancelled any likelihood.
Mr Sampson just told him, in no uncertain terms, that the Sampson family was so prominent and socially connected that a union between his daughter and him was undesirable.
He had a good relationship with Eunice. They shared some beautiful moments together, and often went out to entertainment joints, often with her three friends Marian, Patricia and Amanda. But Kakraba was often uncomfortable with their preferences.
Eunice regularly spoke about her family’s experiences during her father’s postings in Europe and Asia, and her three friends were always discussing the latest fashion trends, always noting the importance of placing themselves among the best-dressed ladies in town.
Eunice, her mother and siblings had indicated in several ways that he did not quite fit into their social standing. They had only said a mild ‘thank you’ when he brought them a goat or sheep and a generous amount of foodstuffs from the north every month.
But Kakraba did not really take it to heart, because they were quite inexpensive up north. Moreover, he always went to the food market and arranged with the truck drivers for a big package which was picked up by his buddy Paa John and delivered to his family and a few others, including the Sampsons.
By Ekow de Heer




