Features
The West African Samba dance
I was in sixth form! Precisely, I was in lower sixth, bubbling with enthusiasm for life. Incidentally, I wasn’t particularly a good dancer but liked watching others dance. When my pal Billy (Butter) did the ‘old man boogie,’ dance, he did so with passion, with contortions and distortions of the human frame. He often needed artificial respiration after a good dance.
Old man Boogie was the dance form adopted at the time. The more you danced like a bony and fragile old man, the more you got applauded. It was fashionable at the time to go to disco with a walking stick to simulate an 80-year-old boogeyman.
On the disco dance floor, everyone was crumbling over and if you didn’t know what was in vogue at the time, you’d be tempted to order an ambulance to cart the entire gang of dancers to the nearest hospital to check their sugar levels. No doubt, you were likely to mistake for old diabetics lapsing into coma on the dance floor.
The Old man Boogie did not last very long. Soon it was replaced with ‘dog’. The dancer was expected to have the men mentality of a dog, and that included baring teeth and ‘pissing’ with one leg raised. When you saw Korkorti on the floor, you thought he was directing traffic with his left leg.
FRENZY
The ‘dog’ gave way to ‘cat’, a frightening choreographic innovation that put the ladies to flight. If dog produced vampires, cat engendered tigers on stage, complete with claws to show for it. The ladies were not brave enough to encounter large human cats in a frenzy, boogeying to funk. They simply fled!
Finally ‘horse’ arrived on the dance floor and you could see Ghanaians galloping with care-less abandon. What saved the situation was the advent of break-dance which shortly superseded the era of freestyling captured in the musical movie “The Music Machine’, starring Gerry Sundquist and Pati Boulaye, a Nigerian performer.
Break-dance brought home an exciting dance variety with equally exciting medical problems. Youngsters began spinning on their heads and broke their necks. They were put in collar and never tried it again.
All the above mentioned dance forms were amply exhibited last Saturday when the Black Stars went on a demolition exercise in Cape Verde.
The 4-0 hammering reflected the level of determination of the Stars to get to Germany in 2006 to showcase samba made in Sikaman.
Soon after the victory, ECG went on ‘strike.’ The nation was plunged into darkness. I heard someone say the power off was deliberate to tone down the celebration, lest people drunk themselves to death. I wondered whether anyone needed electric power to drink himself to death. The lights came on at last.
I quickly drove through parts of Tema. Celebrations were not mass, but pockets of celebrants amply typified the general mood.
CARNIVAL
A group of about eight youngsters apparently charged beyond measure, with akpeteshie running through their veins and arteries, organised a mini-carnival from Site 14 and took to the streets. “God bless our home-land Ghana… they sang the Black Stars cheer song, while hopping like delighted kangaroos. Others were dancing like cats, others like horses.
The beer bars in Tema overflowed with booze. Huge loudspeakers were mounted at Emefa Bar, Site 14, to begin a night of music, booze and chops. Khebab stands smoked freely as sausages and suya were dished out hot, charcoal-grilled.
My wife had gone to Lome, Togo for the weekend with the kids. And what she saw marvelled her. The Togolese national team hitherto known for its disastrous performances suddenly came alive and surprised their own selves. In the final qualifying game, they came back twice to beat Congo in a spectacular display of skills and artistry.
The rain was pouring in sheets in Lome but the celebrants hit the streets in carnival fashion. My little daughter joined them in the rain. When I heard it, I was angry. Why allow the little girl to join in the fanfare?
My wife explained that the situation was so spontaneous that everybody was overwhelmed. Every kid was on the street dancing in the carnival, so why not my little girl? Nobody could stop her. It would have been a sin to stop her. The young and the old were dancing. Old men and women with walking sticks limped to the streets and lock to boogie, the Togolese style.
For me, the exciting aspect of it all is that West African football has come of age. If Nigeria had qualified it would have been a West African affair. Even without Nigeria, it is. Ghana, Togo and Cote d’Ivoire are going to play in Germany in 2006. It is a new beginning for West Africa.
PRESTIGE
Egypt, Senegal, Zaire, Cameroon, Nigeria, and Morocco have participated in the World Cup but did not shine. Other nations must slug it out there, because it is time an African country won the prestigious World Cup.
If African countries have won in the Olympics and the Junior World Cup tournaments, there should be no reason why they cannot make a mark in the seniors. They only have to shed the inferiority complex bothering some of the teams. Africa must shine!
Now, some Nigerians are saying Ghana, Togo and Cote d’Ivoire will be the whip-ping boys at the World Cup. I’ll advise those Nigerians to cry their own cry.
This article was first published on Saturday, October 15, 2005
Attention-Deficit or Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) is often mistaken for laziness or indiscipline. In consulting rooms across Accra and in reports from school teachers, the pattern repeats: children who are bright but forgetful, parents who feel helpless, teachers who see incompleteness.
Research is clear-Barkley (2015) and others describe ADHD as a difference in the brain’s regulation of alertness, impulse and working memory, not a lack of effort.
The family’s role begins with structure. Regular sleep, predictable meal and homework times, and a simple visual list (uniform → books → water → corridor) provide the external scaffolding of these children need. Praise what is completed—“You opened the book and wrote the first sentence”-instead of rebuking what is missing.
Schools can help by seating the child front-row and centre, giving short written plus verbal instructions, allowing brief movement breaks, using quiet nonverbal cues and, where possible, grading effort and method as well as neatness. These adjustments reduce conflict and raise submission rates without lowering standards.
Couples and caregivers should share roles: one grounds, one pivots, and both protect rest. Shame-“bad parenting, bad child”-needs replacing with fact: different wiring, needs scaffolding.
Outcomes improve not by promises of perfection but by daily routines, clear limits and warmed connection. One homework slot kept, one instruction chunked, one calm repair after blurting-these small wins shift the family climate and let the child be seen beyond the label.
Resource
• CPAC (award-winning Mental Health and Counselling Facility): 0559850604 / 0551428486
Source: REV. COUNSELLOR PRINCE OFFEI’s insights on special needs support, relationships, and mental health in Ghana. He is a leading mental health professional, lecturer, ADR Expert/Arbitrator, renowned author, and marriage counsellor at COUNSELLOR PRINCE & ASSOCIATES CONSULT (CPAC COUNSELLOR TRAINING INSTITUTE) – 0551428486 /0559850604.
WEBSITES:
https://princeoffei22.wixsite.com/author
https://princeoffei22.wixsite.com/website
After two weeks of hectic activity up north, I drove to the Tamale airport, parked the car at the Civil Aviation car park as usual, paid the usual parking fee and boarded the plane for Accra.
Over the last two weeks, I had shuffled between three sites where work was close to completion.
One was a seed warehouse, where farmers would come and pick up good quality maize, sorghum and other planting material.
The other was a health facility for new mothers, where they were given basic training on good nutrition and small scale business.
And the third was a set of big boreholes for three farming communities.
The projects usually ran on schedule, but a good deal of time was spent building rapport with the local people, to ensure that they would be well patronised and maintained.
It was great to be working in a situation where one’s work was well appreciated. But it certainly involved a lot of work, and proactivity. And I made sure that I recorded updates online before going to bed in the evening.
When the plane took off, my mind shifted to issues in Accra, the big city. The young guys at my office had done some good work. They had secured five or six houses on a row in a good part of the city, and were close to securing the last.
When we got this property, unusually, Abena greeted them casually, and appeared to be comfortable in the guy’s company.
I was quite disappointed to hear that, because until the last few weeks, it seemed as if Abena and I were heading in a good direction. Apart from the affection I had for her, I liked her family. I decided to take it easy, and allow things to fall in whatever direction.
Normally I would take a taxi to her house from the airport, and pick her up to my place. This time I went to my sisters’ joint, where they sat by me while I enjoyed a drink and a good meal.
“So Little Brother,” Sister Beesiwa said, “what is it we are hearing about our wife-to-be?”
“When did you conclude that she was your wife-to-be? And what have you heard? I’ve only heard a couple of whispers. Ebo and Nana Kwame called to say that they have seen her in the company of—”
“Well said Little Brother,” Sister Baaba said. “By the way, Nana Kwame called an hour ago to ask if you had arrived because he could not reach you. Someone had told him that Jennifer had boasted to someone that she had connected Abena to a wealthy guy who would take care of her.”
I was beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. So I think Jennifer fed her with false stories about me in order to get her to move to the Ampadu guy. Jennifer must have been well compensated for her efforts.
“In that case,” Sister Beesiwa said, “you should be glad that Abena is out of your way. She is easily swayed. Anyone who would make a relationship decision based on a friend’s instigation lacks good sense. I hope the guy is as wealthy as they say?”
“Who gets wealthy running a supermarket chain in Ghana?” Sister Baaba said. “Our supermarkets sell mostly imported products. Look at the foreign exchange rate. And remember that Ghanaians buy second-hand shoes and clothes. Supermarkets are not good business here. Perhaps they are showing off that they are wealthy, but in reality they are not doing so well.”
“Amen to that,” I said. “I’m beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. So I think Jennifer fed her with false stories about me in order to get her to move to the Ampadu guy. Jennifer must have been well compensated for her efforts.”
She said that David Forson was only an agricultural extension worker in the north who did not have the resources to take care of a beautiful girl like her. And apart from being wealthy, the guy comes from an influential family, so Abena had done much better leaving a miserable civil servant like you for him.
“Amen to that,” I said. “I’m beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. We would be able to sell all five houses to one big corporate customer, and we had already spoken to a property dealer who was trying to find a buyer in order to get a good commission.
That was going to be my biggest break. I had asked the boys to look for a large tract of land on the outskirts of the city where we could develop our own set of buildings, blocks of storey houses and upscale apartments. Things were going according to plan, and I was quietly excited. However, things were not going so well regarding my relationship with Abena.
My buddies Ebo and Nana Kwame had called to say that they met Abena and her friend Jennifer enjoying lunch with a guy, and Ebo believed that Jennifer was ‘promoting’ an affair between Jennifer and the guy. They were of the view that the promotion seemed to be going in the guy’s favour, because only an agricultural extension worker in the north who did not have the resources to take care of a beautiful girl like her.
And apart from being wealthy, the guy comes from an influential family, so Abena had done much better leaving a miserable civil servant like you for him.
“As I’ve already said, I will stop by her place, but I will mind my own business from now. Hey, let’s talk family. How are our parents? And my brothers-in-law? And my nephews and nieces? Why don’t we meet on Sunday? I’m going to drop my bags at my place, and go to see Mama and Dad.”
