Features
Too much of everything
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I was curious when I read in a foreign magazine that great writers are normally smokers. I kept thinking whether that was true of Sikaman writers, because I know quite a good number of brilliant writers in this country who are not locomotives. But I may be wrong. Probably they puff when I am not looking, or only when they are writing. When they stop writing they cease to be smokers.
According to the article in the magazine, the cigarette ‘helps them to think’. It is not because their minds are stimulated by the nicotine, but the fact that just holding the stick between the lips, puffing smoke, exhaling through the nostrils and tapping away the ash just keep them forming ideas
Before long, they would be seen scribbling away as sticks of cigarette get burnt into ashes. And society judges them the best writers. That’s quite interesting, isn’t it? And one writer actually confessed that he couldn’t have been a successful novelist without cigarettes.
Well, that’s the world. What is generally harmful to people is said to be beneficial to others after all. It is just like booze and sex. Alcohol destroys the liver, can damage brain cells, induce hypertension and cause social problems.
But alcohol is such that when a total ban is placed on its production and sale in Sikaman, there is likely to be a coup d’etat within a week. Who doesn’t drink, anyway?
Civil servants imbibe alcohol to cure their financial malaria. A husband will take it if he wants to go and insult his mother-in-law for interfering in his marriage.
People charge their brains with alcohol when they are going to collect debts from stubborn debtors. Students take it when they are going to collect their results slips.
Go to the pastors, catechists and reverends and ask them to confess their alcoholic improprieties. Some of them will be sincere and justify their alcoholic dispositions by quoting direct from the Holy Bible.
Timothy was advised to take a little alcohol for the sake of his stomach. But ‘little’ can always be subjective, and that is the loophole that is normally exploited by resident clergymen.
In any case, they can always give the excuse that they have ‘kooko’ and that a famous herbalist had made some concoction for them.
They’ll tell you that it is unfortunate the herbs can only work in alcohol, and that they can’t help doing with it.
When the evening meal is fufu, the holy-man must increase the dosage for an obvious reason – appetite.
But alcohol is most helpful in some spiritual and charismatic churches, when the Holy Ghost can almost be seen moving among the congregation. During such an occasion, the sermon must be extra-lively and the ‘preacherman’ must ‘charge’ to loosen his tongue, to improve the sweetness and quality of the sermon.
“Begone Satan! Begone! “He’d cry out, probably mistaking Satan for the Holy Spirit. He’d taken a bit too much of the stuff and when that happens, you can be sure of an ecclesiastical disaster.
The theme of the sermon will completely be ignored and the drunken pastor, now extra-lively, will start preaching on how to fight the thief who wants to relieve you of your salary. Too much of everything is bad, is the saying.
SIDE DRUM
Take food for instance. Well-cooked, finely spiced food is always delectable to the human palate. But when you take in an overdose and your stomach becomes like a good side-drum and distended, then you are likely to have a nightmare. You’ll start dreaming about cows chasing you here and there and you’ll jump out of sleep to avoid a cow’s leg crashing into your face.
But too soon, you’ll relapse into sleep and start a new dream; seeing yourself falling into a bottomless pit. You’ll scream and someone sleeping in the same room with you will wake you up.
“What’s happening to you?” he’d ask.
“Oh nothing. Just a dream”.
Anyhow, sooner or later, the real symptoms of over-feeding will start showing. You’ll start passing wind indiscriminately and your room mate will start requesting for oxygen lest he suffocates.
“Did you eat too much last night?”
“Yes, the banku was superb, so I took double-dose”.
“I see!”
Yes, your room mate has truly seen. Henceforth, he’ll start timing you. When he sees that you’ve over-eaten, he’d try to avoid the room and sleep on the veranda. He cannot afford to die young.
Coming back to cigarettes, it is generally acceptable that smoking cigarettes is harmful to health, and the Surgeon General has always confirmed it on cigarette packs. Quite paradoxically, doctors are the most inveterate smokers.
In Sikaman, smoking is a habit to some people, but because of poverty they can’t afford to become chain-smokers.
They can afford at most six sticks a day and that is quite moderate. So in effect poverty is saving them from cancer of the lungs.
The prevalence of lung cancer in the developed countries is due to the fact that chain-smoking is a normal phenomenon.
The more you smoke, the more vulnerable you become to disease. MODERATION is, therefore, the solution because habits cannot easily be done away with altogether.
How dare you tell Kofi Owuo, alias Death By Poverty, that he should go to toilet to off-load without taking along cigarettes.
He once told me, “Although I’ve vowed to be poor all my life, I won’t stop smoking. Jot keeps me going. When I get my favourite brand of cigarette and I don’t even get food, I’m okay”.
Yes, Kofi Owuo, a former classmate of mine, took the Oath Of Poverty several years back. But he can always afford his ‘jot’ because without it, he wouldn’t live long. “If I don’t smoke one day, you’ll see me at the mortuary”, he told me.
Perhaps, it is only when there is a total ban on the cultivation of tobacco, its production and distribution that the world will really know that it cannot do without some vices like smoking.
There will be an immediate uproar. Millions of people in tobacco farming, processing and distribution will lose their jobs. Addicts will go haywire and start a riot. Soldiers will take up arms against incumbent governments
The old men who are addicted to snuff (asra), alias rural cocaine, will embark upon a countrywide demonstration.
The snuff keeps them going. When they take it and sneeze hard, they feel good. They may develop cancer of the nose, but that’s nobody’s business. It is the business of their own noses.
I’ve known people who will vomit if they don’t smoke after eating. Some take cigarettes to release tension and others smoke to keep them happy. So which is which? To stop or not to stop!
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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