Features
The wahala of Sikaman MPs (1)

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The arrival of the MP is an occasion
Some parliamentarians are regretting their MP status, because they find it difficult to visit their hometowns in broad- daylight. When they were nobodies, they spent every weekend at home, savouring the best palm wine somewhere in the corner, rendez- vousing with old-time girlfriends and reporting back to work on Monday with a hangover.
Today, when they visit home, they normally do so under the cover of darkness. It has nothing to do with security. Neither has it to do with the dregs of palm wine. It all borders on financial strategy.
The problem is that the folks back home see their MP as a bag of money. He is regarded as the only person who can solve their school fees problems, settle the funeral bills, offer free palm wine and pay for tobacco snuff so that the nostrils of the old folks can be sufficiently cleared noisily every dawn.
So the MP’s arrival in the village is an occasion in itself. He must be welcomed with drumming and dancing. The latest dance styles must be released in honour of the son of the town, the honourable of honourables, okatakyie MP, Nana-o- Nana!
A mini-durbar can even be organised post-haste in his honour and he would be expected to deliver a speech. If he has no prepared speech, he must all the same make an address extempore, like J.J. Rawlings.
Such a speech will be expected to be a sequel to the campaign promises, an extension to the good things promised on the political platform some one-and-half years ago. The MP had indeed brought himself; nobody asked him to come.
The master of ceremonies who is likely to be the town crier also known as gong-gong beater, will officiate. The town criers are noted for their alcoholic licence, their caustic tongue and their long memory. They can recall events, dates, speeches and resolutions. Most importantly, they can embarrass.
A typical gong beater is sure to take a quarter-size of ‘yayaaya’ before delivering his welcome address.
“Keep quiet, keep quiet!” he’d begin.” If I hear you talking. I’ll hit your buttocks with my coconut head.” That is enough to bring more mirth and noise than the man wanted to curb. Finally, a measure of silence will be maintained.
“We welcome our illustrious son back in our midst. We are all happy that he has realised that he cannot hide forever. Your hometown is your hometown. We acknowledge his busy schedule, but we also expect him to be among us to propel our spirits to heights unimaginable.
“We politely remind our son of the promises he made to us for which we exercised the power of our gonti (thumb) in his favour. The promises need to be fulfilled. Look at my moustache, it is overgrown. When a man’s moustache outgrows his upper-lip, it means he is overdue for poverty alleviation.
“We would not take the words out of the mouth of our dear son. May be the poverty alleviation fund is in his briefcase, who knows?”
At this juncture the entire crowd will be thrown into pandemonium. Different interpretations would be given to the briefcase palaver and speculations would be rife as to the contents of the magical briefcase.
At least one person in the crowd will volunteer the information that he actually ‘peeped’ into the briefcase when the honourable MP opened it to get a receipt he was looking for. It was full of Sikaman dollars.
The MP knows that the occasion is not auspicious for a long address. The people have grown wiser and are not impressed with long speeches and grandiloquence. What they want is money to buy mahogany bitters to cure their kooko.
“Ladies and gentleman, I’m glad to be with my kith and kin once again. My schedule doesn’t allow me to come home every weekend as I used to do. I must admit that I miss the weekly palm wine I used to have in times past.
“Nananom, ladies and gentlemen, the promises I’ve made are meant to be fulfilled. In fact, that is why I’m here today.”
The uproar must surely be deafening. The man had indeed arrived. He has brought the money to transform Owuokrom overnight. The excitement ends up in drumming and dancing.
The MP is quickly whisked to the venue of an outdooring. He donates to the couple. A funeral is around the corner and he is promptly made the chairman of the occasion. He donates heavily.
“Honourable,” an oldman will stop him in his tracks. “Don’t you recognise me? I held your legs when you were circumcised 35 years ago. When I saw your car coming I felt proud. I’m your uncle Kofi Badu.”
The MP looks at the oldman. None of his uncles is called Kofi Badu. He knows the oldman wants something for his afternoon and dashes him GH¢20, 000. The palm wine and snuff. The man is overjoyed and breaks into a native dance.
The MP must now run away. The briefcase is almost empty. Yet he has not remitted his old man and old woman, He does so in a flash and the next minute he is speeding towards Accra. “These people, they’ll kill me-o,” he will say to himself.
This article was first published on Saturday, July 13, 2001
Features
The eye is indeed the lamp of the body
There is a scripture that is found in Matthew 6:22 which says that the lamp of the body is the eye and therefore the eye must see well to enable the body to get to its destination.
What most people do not know is that behind the scenes, there is a strong interaction between the eyes and the brain before a picture becomes clear. The state of mind therefore is crucial to the eye seeing clearly to enable the body to process accurately the information the eyes are feeding it for proper identification of what the eyes see.
This is similar to how a person behaves i.e. what informs the decisions that forms in the mind that results in the actions that a person performs. The actions of a person does not therefore just happen but is as a result of things that went on in the mind, which in most cases resulted from information passed on to it by the eyes either consciously or unconsciously.
There are so many issues that affect our society which makes one wonder, whether the people who displayed such acts were created by someone or something other than God.
How can a person see a beach created by God with beautiful beaches and fresh air blowing all around, decides to defecate at such places, and therefore desecrate the environment? lt is simply mind boggling?
When other people in other countries who dwell on the coast are using their beaches for tourist attraction purposes as a means of livelihood and also to promote environmental health, some people living around our beaches, have turned them into rubbish dumping sites and toilets.
It is a very sad situation and the earlier we did something about it the better. It is a national emergency that must engage the attention, first of the government and then the citizenry, where religious bodies and NGOs must play a critical role.
The things we focus on in this country, needs to be addressed. Our minds which processes the info the eyes send to the brain, must be disciplined. There are certain behaviours that a disciplined mind can ignore even when the eye has provided info to the brain. One of the things a disciplined mind does, is the avoidance of a second look, which is critical for every person who wants to avoid adultery or fornication.
Once a person is not blind, he will see things. The boobs, the ‘shankus’, the coca cola shapes, the light complexioned, the dark complexioned etc. the eyes will definitely see and report same to the brain. What the brain or the mind decides to do or instructs the eye to do is the issue.
It can decide to instruct the eye to take a second look and let the mind drool over it or say ignore it and that will be the end.
If the mind becomes trained to focus on environmental issues like clean environment, the eyes will automatically be reporting on insanitary conditions to the brain as and when it sees them. The mind will pay attention to such data and begin to process them and to identify solutions to deal with the reported insanitary conditions.
There is the need to encourage citizens to train the mind to focus on the right thing so that in tandem with the eyes, focus will be maintained. When the mind is so trained, it communicates with the eye to also focus on hood things that helps in both are spiritual life and our secular lives, for indeed the eyes are the lamp of the body. God bless.
Features
Arming the Sikaman journalists to the teeth

THE relationship between New Times Corporation (NTC) and African Concrete Productions (ACP) is based entirely on matters of the stomach. Each depends on the other in a dietary symbiosis, reinforced by the close proximity of each other
At lunchtime, you’d see a particular set of Times workers marching regimentally to ACP to face the wall. You’d think they are soldiers. It has long been declared that the company manufactures the best kokonte in the Greater Accra Region. ACP is, therefore, a culinary haven for those NTC kokonte fans, both male and female.
As the NTC kokonte warriors cross the border to ACP, you’d see some ACP banku fanatics dancing joyously to NTC. They are lucky folks because they do not have to obtain visa to enter into ‘Times’ to attack the balls of banku with precision and accuracy. They also claim that the lightsoup at ‘Times’ is arguably the best in West Africa.
So the relationship between the two entities was quite cordial and based practically on stomach palaver, until ACP workers staged an industrial revolution, whereupon the managing director, accountant and estate manager were allegedly stripped naked and locked up in a room. An insurgency had began in earnest.
An ACP worker came to ‘Times’, this time not to eat banku and okro. He had come to inform newsmen that juicy stuff awaited them at ACP. It could make a front page lead story.
A camerawoman and a female reporter were accordingly dispatched to go and bring back news, juicy news as juicy as kokonte and groundnut soup.
I was driving to work when I espied the familiar camerawoman clicking away outside the ACP premises. I didn’t see any ‘Times’ reporter but angry workers who were on the verge of getting violent. I slowed down and the driver behind blew his horn at me like a lunatic. I drove on.
Later, I heard the reporter and camerawoman were harassed and brutalised. The report came,. “The camerawoman, Mrs Salome Adonu-Agbottah and reporter Mrs Doreen Allotey, in an attempt to retrieve the camera which the workers had seized from them were severely beaten. They were manhandled and almost pushed into a big gutter opposite the company’s premises.
BRUISES
“….The camerawoman had bruises on her body, her hand bag was destroyed and the money in it stolen. Mrs Allotey’s watch was also snatched and her feet stamped on.”
Luckily, it was not her nose that was trampled upon. She has a beautiful nose.
The bad news was received with extreme sorrow. If the victims had been men, it would not have seemed too bad. But to brutalise women is just unacceptable. The New Times Corporation has not stopped mourning the incident which has been condemned in many circles.
Some people keep asking me why Times sent females to cover a potentially violent demonstration. I tell them they might as well ask why CNN’s amazon, Christina Amanpour, is assigned to cover the carnage in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Rwanda. She is always on the frontline in jeans and jacket.
Journalism is a potentially hazardous profession, and once you accept to study and practise the trade, you might as well bone up to face any assignment as long as your superiors feel you are capable of handling it or you have demonstrated the capacity to handle it. Both males and females can be assigned anywhere, anytime just like policemen and women are assigned.
The only difference between cops and pressmen is that the latter are armed only with a pen and the former with a gun. The question is should newsmen also arm themselves so that in any event of an assault they would not be found wanting in self-defence? They can’t adequately defend themselves with a pen and a jotter. A pen cannot even disfigure an opponent’s upper lip.
Photo-journalists have particularly suffered violence. Spectator ace-cameraman Vincent Dzatse was severely assaulted by AMA men when he attempted to take pictures of their indiscretions.
Sports cameraman, P. K. Arthur has been beaten more than once at the sports stadium when riots errupted and he wanted to capture it on his lenses.
Some sports journalists have been banned from entering the Accra Sports Stadium by supporters because in their comments, they didn’t write “sense”. Some supporters once nearly lynched Christian Abbew, Spectator Sports Editor, near a courtroom. He was stoned like the biblical Stephen. He had gone to defend a contempt charge.
I think it is time journalists met and discussed how best to defend themselves in any event of an attack by individuals or mobs. In the pursuance of their duty, they must be free from harassment and assault.
Some journalists go to work and return home with a black-eye or a double fore-head. It is just not right. Something has to be done about it. I think journalists should be armed. But first we must be trained in the use of firearms so that our warning shot do not hit below the belt. What about training in Kung Fu?
This article was first published on Saturday, October 17, 1998.




