‘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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THE question has often been asked whether Ghanaians are romantic or not? The question has never been properly put, because the average Ghanaian might be a romantic legend outdoors but a total disaster indoors.

It means he can function romantically when people are looking, but under the cover of darkness and behind closed doors, he can only stumble and fall.

Indeed, in public, some people do express and even choreograph their love and affection for their partners. Immediately they get indoors, they are a changed personality. They start frowning because they cannot put up any good show.

The reverse is also true. So, the question should be properly asked with all the parameters of disaster carefully identified. And are Ghanaian men more romantic than the women?

From observation, one can identify culture as one of the limiting factors that have suppressed female romanticism. For example, when a female proposes love or even hints that she loves a man, the first impression people get is that she must be a ‘spoilt’ person.

Lesson

So, a girl in love will never allow her boyfriend to hold her hand in public. Never! And if he is foolhardy enough to kiss her, she’ll either scream to the high heavens, or simply slap him on the face to teach him a crude lesson.

You’ll think such a girl is the reincarnation of the Virgin Mary, the personification of what is pure, prim, unadulterated and adorable. It is only when you manage to get her behind closed doors that you are likely to see the real stuff she is made of.

She’d teach you the rudiments of love and romantic tit-bits you never dreamt about. She’d show you what to do and what not to do, and how to do what you should do. In the end, you’d never be the same. Check it out!

When it comes to female romanticism, there are many factors coming into play. Some Ghanaian ladies are not suited for romance because they see the world in terms of making a living rather than pandering to the pleasures of life. So, to them, to be romantic is a bother. It is a job too difficult to undertake.

They cannot even smile, let alone laugh. They see a smile as a frivolity, a laugh as the beginning of madness. What they keep thinking about is how to work for money.

Back-hand

To such persons, any suggestion of love or romance can get them poised to deliver a back-hand blow if it really comes to it. And if they ever make the mistake of getting married, the man is certain to die young. How can he cope with such a character?

When it comes to Ghanaian men, it can be worse. The problem is that the average Ghanaian man cannot give any quantitative or qualitative meaning to romance. He sees love either as a ‘head-ache’ because partners won’t stop demanding money, or as ‘sex’ because beyond it there is nothing else.

So, he enters into a relationship with a certain mindset, that is to give his lover money and demand sex in exchange. So where does romance come in? If by chance he decides to be a trifle bit romantic and gets his lover a birthday card, he is likely to get a rebuff if not a snob. “Ibi card I go chop?” the lady would ask him.

The typical Ghanaian lady wants cash and you are giving her a card. She would wonder whether you are off! Mental!

So, the men are either not encouraged by their mates to be romantic, or they themselves are not romantic by nature. They can’t see how they can buy a bar of chocolate as a surprise for their darlings.

It isn’t that they can’t afford it. They just don’t think it makes any sense. They might as well learn from Indians. Indians know exactly how to consummate a love relationship by incorporating music and dance, poetry and lyrical effort into the exercise.

All these are portrayed in their films. A boy and girl in love in India, need space and time to express that love. They can even refuse food for three days and remain on a mountain range singing and dancing for love.

The premium on romantic love is high. No wonder they have a relatively lower divorce rate. Which man in Ghana will forgo his fufu or banku for three days and go singing to a girl who is likely to break his heart in a fortnight?

Simulation

In any case, some Ghanaian men have learnt over time to be romantic, for the sake of it, and not because they think it matters. They read books and watch films and simulate from them.

Others travel and come back quite different. They even walk romantically if they happen to fall in love. That is what they’ve learnt in the cold. Certainly, it makes sense to be romantic in cold weather than in the hot African sun.

This article was first published on Saturday March 25, 2006

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