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Three foundational Trio: Truth Courage and Morality
Moral courage characterises the highest order of manhood and womanhood. It is the courage to seek and to tell the truth; the courage to be just, to be honest, to resist temptation; the courage to do one’s duty.
A great deal of the unhappiness and much of the vice in the world come from a lack of moral courage and purpose. The weak and undisciplined person is at the mercy of every temptation. A researcher studying self-fulfillment reported that “nothing has subverted self-fulfillment more thoroughly than self-indulgence.”
In order to have moral courage and do the things that are best for us, we must believe we are capable, we must have faith in ourselves, as well as in our values. If we excuse ourselves because “we can’t,” we never will…for “without faith we can do nothing” as the scripture says.
Popular clichés often miss the point of moral courage. For example, consider the description of a person groping for life as someone who “has not found himself.” The statement is not accurate because self is created, not found. We change our circumstances by changing our attitudes and exercising our moral courage.
Or consider those who give up on life and dismiss it as “hopeless.” They have become discouraged and have lost all hope. Of course, the Lord could intervene and help at any time, but He knows it is through the exercise of faith and courage that we grow and become stronger. We learn the virtue of self-discipline that helps forge strong character traits. And the cycle keeps repeating itself.
By blending courage with faith, we create character. Character, in turn, brings the moral courage and faith to stand firm or yield when desirable. And so the circle is complete, ready to begin again.
The actual building of moral courage is an individual, personal endeavour which goes on inside of us each day. It is an achievement, not a gift. It develops gradually through continuous right decisions, and it must be pursued systematically through the end of our days.
Moral courage brings self-discipline, self-respect and self-control. It brings victory over oneself, and that is the ultimate challenge facing each of us in the personal search for truth.
So it is not true what many have said: that truth needs no defence, that truth will overcome the false, with power of its own, with none to speak its name or plead its cause. Perhaps when eternity has balanced all that is on time’s unerring scales, and future, present, past are one, then truth will stand alone, without the aid of just and fearless men.
But, for now, as long as man’s ambition divides the false and true, every particle of truth requires its advocate. It is as Mencken wrote: “The smallest atom of truth represents some man’s bitter toil and agony; for every ponderable chunk of it there is a brave truth-seeker’s grave upon some lonely ash heap…”
Recorded history is evidence enough that falsehood often reaps rewards of fame and praise, while truth inherits the scaffold or the rack: For Socrates the hemlock, for Christ bleak Calvary.
Even now, in these enlightened times and this liberated land, the voice of truth is often either unheard or unheeded. For the sound of truth is soft, almost a whisper. It can be drowned out by the roar of greed or political ambition. It can be squelched by the clang of diplomacy. Its delicate nature is chained by the strong fetters of ignorance and superstition. It is bought and sold by racial prejudice and whispered away with gossip. But, by and large, truth dies the pauper’s death, succumbs to poverty, friendless, without nourishment or aid.
It is not enough to believe in truth, for in truth, “Faith without works is dead.” So, too, a belief without action is a lifeless creed. It is not faith alone which drives Akosombo’s turbines, but faith’s application in harnessing the latent power of the massive Volta Lake.
There is more at stake here than parables and rhetoric. Truth is every country’s most valuable national treasure. And that nation which suppresses it in the name of social convenience, conceals it for the sake of political expediency or camouflages it behind false diplomacy not only deserves to fall, but surely will.
We are all accountable. Every voice adds that much more weight to the side of fact. We must be sincere, objective in our pursuit of truth and unequivocal and dauntless in its defence. Much depends on it.
Features
Tears of Ghanaman, home and abroad
The typical native of Sikaman is by nature a hospitable creature, a social animal with a big heart, a soul full of the milk of earthly goodness, and a spirit too loving for its own comfort.
Ghanaman hosts a foreign pal and he spends a fortune to make him very happy and comfortable-good food, clean booze, excellent accommodation and a woman for the night.
Sometimes the pal leaves without saying a “thank you but Ghanaman is not offended. He’d host another idiot even more splendidly. His nature is warm, his spirit benevolent. That is the typical Ghanaian and no wonder that many African-Americans say, “If you haven’t visited Ghana. Then you’ve not come to Africa.
You can even enter the country without a passport and a visa and you’ll be welcomed with a pot of palm wine.
If Ghanaman wants to go abroad, especially to an European country or the United States, it is often after an ordeal.
He has to doze in a queue at dawn at the embassy for days and if he is lucky to get through to being interviewed, he is confronted by someone who claims he or she has the power of discerning truth from lie.
In short Ghanaman must undergo a lie-detector test and has to answer questions that are either nonsensical or have no relevance to the trip at hand. When Joseph Kwame Korkorti wanted a visa to an European country, the attache studied Korkorti’s nose for a while and pronounced judgment.
“The way I see you, you won’t return to Ghana if I allow you to go. Korkorti nearly dislocated her jaw; Kwasiasem akwaakwa. In any case what had Korkorti’s nose got to do with the trip?
If Ghanaman, after several attempts, manages to get the visa and lands in the whiteman’s land, he is seen as another monkey uptown, a new arrival of a degenerate ape coming to invade civilized society. He is sneered at, mocked at and avoided like a plague. Some landlords abroad will not hire their rooms to blacks because they feel their presence in itself is bad business.
When a Sikaman publisher landed overseas and was riding in a public bus, an urchin who had the impudence and notoriety of a dead cockroach told his colleagues he was sure the black man had a tail which he was hiding in his pair of trousers. He didn’t end there. He said he was in fact going to pull out the tail for everyone to see.
True to his word he went and put his hand into the backside of the bewildered publisher, intent on grabbing his imaginary tail and pulling it out. It took a lot of patience on the part of the publisher to avert murder. He practically pinned the white miscreant on the floor by the neck and only let go when others intervene. Next time too…
The way we treat our foreign guests in comparison with the way they treat us is polar contrasting-two disparate extremes, one totally incomparable to the other. They hound us for immigration papers, deport us for overstaying and skinheads either target homes to perpetrate mayhem or attack black immigrants to gratify their racial madness
When these same people come here we accept them even more hospitably than our own kin. They enter without visas, overstay, impregnate our women and run away.
About half of foreigners in this country do not have valid resident permits and was not a bother until recently when fire was put under the buttocks of the Immigration Service
In fact, until recently I never knew Sikaman had an Immigration Service. The problem is that although their staff look resplendent in their green outfit, you never really see them anywhere. You’d think they are hidden from the public eye.
The first time I saw a group of them walking somewhere, I nearly mistook them for some sixth-form going to the library. Their ladies are pretty though.
So after all, Sikaman has an Immigration Service which I hear is now alert 24 hours a day tracking down illegal aliens and making sure they bound the exit via Kotoka International. A pat on their shoulder.
I am glad the Interior Ministry has also realised that the country has been too slack about who goes out or comes into Sikaman.
Now the Ministry has warned foreigners not to take the country’s commitment to its obligations under the various conditions as a sign of weakness or a source for the abuse of her hospitality.
“Ghana will not tolerate any such abuse,” Nii Okaija Adamafio, the Interior Minister said, baring his teeth and twitching his little moustache. He was inaugurating the Ghana Refugee and Immigration Service Boards.
He said some foreigners come in as tourists, investors, consultants, skilled workers or refugees. Others come as ‘charlatans, adventurers or plain criminals. “
Yes, there are many criminals among them. Our courts have tried a good number of them for fraud and misconduct.
It is time we welcome only those who would come and invest or tour and go back peacefully and not those whose criminal intentions are well-hidden but get exposed in due course of time.
This article was first published on Saturday March 14, 1998
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Features
Decisions have consequences
In this world, it is always important to recognise that every action or decision taken, has consequences.
It can result in something good or bad, depending on the quality of the decision, that is, the factors that were taken into account in the decision making.
The problem with a bad decision is that, in some instances, there is no opportunity to correct the result even though you have regretted the decision, which resulted in the unpleasant outcome.
This is what a friend of mine refers to as having regretted an unregretable regret. After church last Sunday, I was watching a programme on TV and a young lady was sharing with the host, how a bad decision she took, had affected her life immensely and adversely.
She narrated how she met a Caucasian and she got married to him. The white man arranged for her to join him after the marriage and processes were initiated for her to join her husband in UK. It took a while for the requisite documentation to be procured and during this period, she took a decision that has haunted her till date.
According to her narration, she met a man, a Ghanaian, who she started dating, even though she was a married woman.
After a while her documents were ready and so she left to join her husband abroad without breaking off the unholy relationship with the man from Ghana.
After she got to UK, this man from Ghana, kept pressuring her to leave the white man and return to him in Ghana. The white man at some point became a bit suspicious and asked about who she has been talking on the phone with for long spells, and she lied to him that it was her cousin.
Then comes the shocker. After the man from Ghana had sweet talked her continuously for a while, she decided to leave her husband and return to Ghana after only three weeks abroad.
She said, she asked the guy to swear to her that he would take care of both her and her mother and the guy swore to take good care of her and her mother as well as rent a 3-bedroom flat for her. She then took the decision to leave her husband and return to Ghana.
She told her mum that she was returning to Ghana to marry the guy in Ghana. According to her, her mother vigorously disagreed with her decision and wept.
She further added that her mum told her brother and they told her that they were going to tell her husband about her intentions.
According to her, she threatened that if they called her husband to inform him, then she would commit suicide, an idea given to her by the boyfriend in Ghana.
Her mum and brother afraid of what she might do, agreed not to tell her husband. She then told her husband that she was returning to Ghana to attend her Grandmother’s funeral.
The husband could not understand why she wanted to go back to Ghana after only three weeks stay so she had to lie that in their tradition, grandchildren are required to be present when the grandmother dies and is to be buried.
She returned to Ghana; the flat turns into a chamber and hall accommodation, the promise to take care of her mother does not materialise and generally she ends up furnishing the accommodation herself. All the promises given her by her boyfriend, turned out to be just mere words.
A phone the husband gave her, she left behind in UK out of guilty conscience knowing she was never coming back to UK.
Through that phone and social media, the husband found out about his boyfriend and that was the end of her marriage.
Meanwhile, things have gone awry here in Ghana and she had regretted and at a point in her narration, was trying desperately to hold back tears. Decisions indeed have consequences.
NB: ‘CHANGE KOTOKA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT TO KOFI BAAKO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT’
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