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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!
THE state of feeling rejected, could be a terrifying experience especially for those who have become used to fame. If not properly addressed, it could lead to depression and the consequences, could be disastrous.
When you are on top of your game in whatever profession you find yourself such that you become famous, a lot of people try to associate with you. The phone never ceases to ring and one is tempted to feel loved and very important.
When a disaster strikes and the fame or the money which was the source of the attraction fades away, the circle of friends and fans begin to shrink and the phone will start to stop ringing until the call stops voting completely.
You will be shocked at how people you considered friends, will no longer be calling you or pay casual visits as they used to. You will begin to notice that messages you leave after calling them and not getting a response are not replied to and that is when you begin to know who your true friends are.
One of the most popular movie stars was an actress called Sharon Stone. In an interview with one of the media houses that was published, she spoke about how people who should have come around to encourage her in her moment of depression, shunned her. The calls stopped coming.
This is what the Bible admonishes that the arm of flesh will fail you and therefore we should put our trust in God. It could be a very frightening experience and can easily lead to depression.
Human nature being what it is, people will want to get close if things are okay. Everybody wants to associate themselves with interesting things, famous people, rich people etc for mainly selfish reasons.
We need to develop the habit of putting our trust in God and relying less on human beings. The lesson we have to take along in life is that, no one marries his or her enemy so how come people who took vows that they will love each other become so hostile to each other that they want to go their separate ways in life? Such is the reality of life.
It is therefore prudent for people to recognise that, life is full of uncertainties and so there is the need to prepare your mind for uncertainties so that when they occur, they do not disorganise your mental sanity.
A lot of people have experienced situations where people who they could have sworn will never betray their trust have disappointed them when they were through challenging moments.
If there is one thing famous people should desire, it should be the ability to identify who are true friends are. Countless stories abound regarding incidence of celebrities who have lost their shine and their wives divorcing them soon after.
It is sometimes useful as a famous or rich person to sign a prenuptial agreement before marriage to safeguard or protect yourself from any future unpleasant surprises.
People can be very pretentious these days, it goes both ways. There is this real life story where a man married a divorced wealthy woman and convinced her to sell her house so they could build a new one together, with the excuse that people are gossiping that he is being housed by a woman.
The woman agreed and they put up a new building. After a few years the man asked for a divorce, only for the woman to realise that the land on which the building was situated, was bought in the man’s name.
This can drive a person insane, if you are not mentally tough and this happens to you. When people hear that you are homeless, a lot of your so-called friends will stop calling, so that you do not become a burden on them.
By Laud Kissi-Mensah
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‘But, er …. I don’t even know your name’.
‘Paul. Paul Allotey. I’m Sarah, by the way. Paul, why don’t you leave me here, since this is the last important thing I’m doing today’.
‘Okay. Now Sarah. I was just thinking. You will be here at the cafe for about an hour. By then it will be about twelve thirty. Then, you would be thinking of buying yourself some lunch, to eat here or to take home. So if you would please allow me, I will take you to one of the nicest eating places in town, and after you have sorted that one out, then I can drop you home. Just that one errand, then I won’t bother you again’.
‘You are not bothering me at all. You are being very kind to me. And I just realised you are a mind reader too. The last item on my agenda was lunch’.
‘I’m so glad I appeared at your doorstep, just in time’.
‘Okay. Now Paul, since you say the cafe is a comfortable place, let’s go in together, and you can do your work while I get my application done’.
‘Okay, Sarah. Thanks. Let’s go’.
We got back in the car at eleven forty-five.
‘So where are we going, Paul?’
‘To Royalty restaurant. It’s a twenty minute drive away’.
‘So, do you enjoy your job?’
‘Most certainly. I won’t change it, not even to be President. And am I right to say that you are preparing to enter the university?’
‘That’s my plan. I hope it works’.
‘It will, if you are determined, and disciplined. You look very much like a disciplined person’.
‘Thank you very much’.
We arrived at Royalty in twenty-five minutes, ‘You are joining me for lunch, Paul’.
‘Thanks for the honour, Sarah. But the bill is on me’.
‘Aren’t you taking on too much for one day?’
‘I never do anything that is bigger than me, Sarah’.
Over the next hour and a half, we discussed fashion, local and international politics, and sports, as we ate and relaxed. Finally, he drove me to the shop.
‘I will never forget you, Paul’.
‘I’m glad to have been helpful. But if you don’t mind, I’ll say it again, your husband is extremely lucky. You are really beautiful’.
‘Thanks again. But do you mind if I call you sometime in the future?’
‘Certainly not. Let me write it here. I will not ask for your number, for obvious reasons. But I will be looking forward to hearing from you. And hopefully, I will see you next month, when I call to drop your bill’.
‘Okay Paul. See you then’. What a lovely day, I said to myself as I opened the front door. I closed the shop and got home by seven. I went straight to the bedroom, stood in the mirror and took a good look at myself. ‘You are a very beautiful woman, Sarah. Never forget that’. I will not forget that, again.
Over the next several weeks, Martin and I had very little to do with each other. In the morning he ate his breakfast and after a shabby ‘I’m going’, he left. He came home around eight at the earliest, ate his dinner and, already soaked in beer, went off to sleep.
He spent the greater part of the weekends at the club house with his friends, playing tennis and partying. My mind was focused on furthering my education, so I didn’t complain to him, and didn’t bother to inform my parents about what was happening. I had decided that I would only take action if he lifted his hand against me again. I spent my free time reading all manner of interesting stuff on the internet, and chatting with my sister on WhatsApp.
One evening, he came home at about eight, rushed to the bedroom and rushed out. An envelope, obviously containing money, dropped out of his pocket, and I picked it up and followed him. I was going to call him and give it to him, but I noticed that there was a young woman in the car, so I went back in, counted it and put it in a drawer in the hall. He came back after some ten minutes.
‘Excuse me, I dropped an envelope containing money. You must have seen it’.
‘Yes, I saw it. Actually, I followed you, and was about to call you and hand it over to you when I realised that there was a woman in the car, so I came back in. I counted it. One thousand cedis.
‘Well let me have it. I have to be going’.
‘I will let you have it if you will tell me who the woman in the car is, and why you are going to give her that amount of money’.
‘Listen, if you waste my time, I will teach you a lesson you will never forget. Give me the money now!’
‘Here’s what we will do, Martin. I know you will give money to her anyway, so I will give it to you, if you will withdraw the threat you just issued. But I want you to know that I will be taking some steps from tomorrow. Things are getting out of hand’.
‘Okay, I’m sorry I threatened you. Can you please give me the money’. I handed it over to him, and he ran out’.
The following morning, I waited for him to finish having breakfast, and told him I wanted to have a word with him urgently.
‘You better be quick. You know I’m going to work’.
‘Well, I want to inform you that I will inform my parents, and your parents, about the situation in this house. As I said yesterday, things are getting out of hand. You spend most of your time drinking. You get drunk every evening, and through the weekend. And you are also spending your time and money on a prostitute’.
‘How dare you? One more stupid word from you …’
‘Am I lying, Martin? You have just started life, yet you are behaving like a rich, elderly man who has already seen his children through university, and can afford a life of fun. As I said, I’m going to inform our parents. Maybe your parents can straighten you out before it is too late’.
‘Look, we can talk this evening. It’s nothing like what you are saying’. He walked away, shocked.
That evening, I was expecting to have a meaningful discussion with him, but his mother called early in the evening to offer me some ‘advice’. Her son had called to say that certain developments at home were disturbing him so much that they were beginning to affect his work.
And, ‘as a loving mother to her daughter’, she was advising me to submit to my husband, and support him in prayer, and not ‘drive him from home’. Men would always be men, and she was telling me ‘from experience’ that no matter how much time Martin stayed away from home, he would always come home to me.
She had been a young wife before, so she understood the challenges I was facing. So I could be assured that if I followed her advice, all would be well. And, of course, she didn’t allow me to tell my side of the story.
Martin came home very late, and very drunk. And from the next morning, he carried on as before. With some hesitation, I called my dad and told him all that had gone on.
‘Well, my daughter. I’m not going to say “I told you so”. I was only trying to protect you. So here’s what we’ll do. Continue doing the best you can, and try not to give him any excuse to harm you, but if things continue to deteriorate, I will take you back.
A couple of days later, my cousin Dinah arrived in Accra from Brussels, having completed her medical course. With Martin’s agreement, I went to Koforidua and spent a couple of days. I spent most of the time chatting about her experiences in the US, but we also discussed my relationship with Martin, and she endorsed Dad’s decision to take action if Martin’s behaviour did not change after two weeks Elaine informed Mom and Dad. We endorsed Dad’s decision to take action if there was no change in two weeks.
Dinah returned with me to Takoradi. Her plan was to spend a couple of weeks, and return to Accra to be posted. I called Paul Allotey, and asked if he would meet her for lunch and, if possible, show her some interesting spots. Delighted, he suggested that we meet at Royalty the next day.
I told Martin about it, to remove any possibility of future disagreement over ‘going out with men’.
‘It’s fine with me’, he said, ‘if, of all the people who could show your sister round this town, you chose a borla man. Doesn’t that indicate the kind of person you are?’
‘ First of all, Martin’, I’ve spoken to him a few times, and he comes across as a decent guy, so I think it is rather unfortunate that you are writing him off when you don’t know him’.
By Ekow de Heer
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