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Tribute to Jim Macauley, the ‘workerhaulic’ journalist


MHB 975
When the day of toil is done,
When the race of life is run,
Father, grant Thy wearied one
Rest forevermore.
When the strife of sin is stilled,
When the foe within is killed,
Be thy gracious Word fulfilled;
Peace forevermore.
When the darkness melts away,
At the breaking of the day,
Bid us hail the cheering ray;
Light forevermore.
When the heart by sorrow tried,
Feel at length the throbs subside,
Bring us, where all tears are dried
Joy forevermore.
When the breath of life is flown,
When the grave must claim its own,
Lord of life, be ours Thy crown,
Life forevermore.
This Methodist hymn simply sums up the beginning and the end of mankind on this earth.
It is with the greatest heart and tribulation that I pay this special tribute to my brother, good friend and colleague of the inky fraternity, James Yao Macauley, a former Deputy Editor of the Ghanaian Times who makes his final journey to his ancestral home today, the 6th of March, 2021, which falls on Ghana’s Independence day anniversary celebration.
This day will forever go down in history as it will always ring a bell in the minds of his children, family members, friends and colleagues of the media.
Dubbed, a journey of no return, Jim Macoco, affectionately known by his close associates and friends, was called to eternity by his Maker on 24th December, 2020 being the birthday of his elder daughter, Celeste Eyram Macauley.
The funeral is being held this morning at the Transition Home at Haatso after which the body will be interred at the Achimota cemetery. Memorial Service will be held in his honour at the Pure Fire Ministries International near GIMPA, Kisiman junction at 10 am tomorrow and thence to his residence on the Passion Clinic road, Ogbojo.
I have decided to use this medium to eulogise this good friend and hard working colleague because of my closeness with him over the years. I have already shared few thoughts about my late friend in a series of tributes on my Facebook wall but I promised to pay special one at the appropriate time which is now.
The death of Jim came to me as a shock and a big blow because I hardly expected that so soon, although death is inevitable in one’s life. It came as a surprise because I spoke to him few days before he passed on.
He made an arrangement with me to attend a funeral ceremony of a former staff of the New Times Corporation (NTC) at a place called Israel, which is a suburb of Accra. He promised to join me from my residence at Mamprobi to that place.
The night to the funeral day, I called to confirm that I would be waiting for him for the trip. Indeed, he spoke to me on phone and nothing showed that he was unwell from the conversation we had.
The following morning which was Saturday, I had prepared for our journey when all of a sudden I had a call from him telling me that he could not make it because he was not feeling well. Since I had already prepared for the funeral, I advised him to rest whilst I attended the function.
To be frank, I was not myself at the event as I kept calling him to check how he was faring. His answers were so positive that I felt good that he was recovering fast. I made a follow up the following morning to which he assured me he was getting better. Hardly did I know that he was rather announcing his death to me in parables.
On 24th December, 2020, as I sat behind my dinner table around 8am having my breakfast, I received an unexpected call from the Editor of the Ghanaian Times newspaper, Mr. Dave Agbenu, who broke the sad news to me. I hesitated and cut short my breakfast.
I couldn’t believe it initially but after enquiring from Jim’s wife and also his elder brother, Humphrey, formerly of the Ghana Broadcasting Corporation (GBC), it became clear that my good friend was really dead. From that day until now, I have never been myself as I kept wondering the root cause of his death.
Indeed, as I keep saying, the good Lord knew best and he had answers as to why He had called him at this opportune time when his services would be mostly needed to groom young and upcoming journalists because of his deep knowledge and rich experience in the journalism profession.
Jim was my deputy when I was the editor of the Ghanaian Times newspaper and I knew how experienced he was especially in newspaper layouts, page planning and sub-editing. The two of us did not allow our retirement to affect our journalism profession because we believed that we had the potentials, skills and the strength to forge ahead.
No wonder, we had a lot of offers from some people within the society to assist in the publication of journals and magazines meant to shape the society. We took up the challenge and we came out with two sets of attractive and beautiful magazines which we duly registered with the National Media Commission (NMC).
The African Network Magazine and The Public Official Magazine of which I am the editor and he was the Director of Production in both cases. His handiworks are available for those who want to see them.
Jim, you mentored a lot of young journalists during your hey day in the field of writing and reporting in the arts and culture because of your vast interest in that field of journalism.
Many were those journalists from the Ghanaian Times and The Spectator newspapers who could testify that you assisted them to win most of the awards instituted by the Ghana Journalists Association (GJA) in the years past. You exhibited brilliance in your assigned duties and loved by all those who came into contact with your work.
Mr. Edward Abi-George, a former Chief Sub-Editor of the NTC under whom you acquired greater skills in your work and also your mentor, was proud of you because you put into practice all that he taught you.
My empathy goes to his wife Lily and children, Celeste Eyram, James Elorm and Charlotte Fafa Macauley, for this great loss. I pray that the good Lord will continue to console them during this difficult times.
My brother Jim, you came, you saw and you had conquered, paid your dues also to society and I pray that the good Lord would protect your soul and grant you eternal rest. Till we meet again, fare thee well. Adieu, adieu.
Let me end this tribute with the first, second and the fourth stanzas of the Methodist hymn 976.

Now the laborer’s task is o’er;
Now the battle day is past;
Now upon the further shore
Land the voyager at last
Refrain:
Father, in thy gracious keeping
Leave we now thy servant sleeping.
Amen.
There the tears of earth are dried,
There its hidden things are clear,
There the work of life is tried
By a just judge than here; [Refrain]

‘Earth to earth, and dust to dust,’
Calmly now the words we say;
Leaving him to sleep in trust,
Till the resurrection day; [Refrain]

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Farmers, fund and the mafia

The notion some people have about the Sikaman farmer can be amusing. It is the belief of some that immediately a struggling farmer manages to grab a loan, the first thing he does is to invite his abu­sua (kith and kin) home and abroad.

He organises a mini-festival using palm wine mixed with Guinness as the first course. There and then he announces that he is no longer a poor man; in effect he has ceased to be the close buddy of Mr John Poverty.

The ceremony will be consum­mated with singing and breakdance, a brief church service, drama and poetry recitals.

At least three bearded goats complete with moustache and four cockerels would be sacrificed in vari­ous recipes to celebrate the farmer’s broken alliance with poverty. Some would end up as fufu and light soup, grilled chicken, toasted mutton and smiling goat-head pepper soup. In short, the loan was well taken and well utilised.

The farmer’s prosperity begins right from the stomach. His idea is that if you don’t prosper in the stom­ach, there is no way you can prosper outside it.

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Some farmer are ‘wiser’ though. When they get the loan, they prompt­ly look for new wives. They can no longer continue enjoying one soup everyday like that. Variety is the spice of life! A new wife would bring new zest, new hope and heavenly glary into the farmer’s life. Most impor­tantly the new wife would bring more action into his waist.

So the loan goes indirectly into promoting physical exercise for the human waist instead of the expansion of the farm, purchase of new equip­ment and improved seeds. Farmers of this nature are jokers, not farmers.

Is it probably because of these whimsical reasons that the banks are reluctant to grant loans to farmers? Obviously with the celebration of mini festivals and the installation of new wives, it is unlikely bank loans can ever be repaid. Of course, farmers who are more concerned about their libido can only be experts in re-sched­uling loan payments and not in paying back loans.

Banks are very much concerned about getting their monies back with interest whenever they give out loans. So they demand collateral security as a requirement for the granting of loans. Some farmers actually don’t have anything they can put up as collateral except their hoes, cutlasses and wives. So they struggle through life, not going and not coming.

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I do not blame the banks for not granting loans to those who cannot put up collateral. But what about those who are very serious farmers and can put up collateral. Should they also be denied?

Farming is seasonal and a farmer may need a loan only within a certain period to grow crops or breed birds. When the period elapses before the loans are granted, farmers are tempt­ed to misapply the money because it lies idle. In fact, with idle money lying around, the farmer may be tempted to ‘purchase’ a new wife.

It goes without saying that farmers need money but for specific periods when the banks apparently do not take into consideration. Within three months in a year (main cropping season), a crop farmer must plant, nurture, harvest and sell. He applies for a loan and takes nine months or is not even granted. Meanwhile the money lies under his bed waiting to be enjoyed. Not all farmers are angels.

Now, If the government has seen and acknowledged the importance of farmers in national development and has instituted a Farmers’ Day which is a public holiday during which farmers are awarded, then government might as well also do something about fund­ing for our serious farmers, at least the award winning ones to expand and grow since bank loans are not readily available.

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Lama of Site 21, Tema, a man of great learning and of vision, has just been telling me that when a farmer gets an award, it means he knows his way about his job, is serious and diligent. According to him, most likely that such a person would also be investment-conscious and judicious in the use of his resources, and not interested in enstooling a new wife.

If government can set up a fund to assist, not with cash but by way of inputs, most of our farmers who have not had any assistance to propel themselves above sea level would be most thankful.

Interview a few award-winning farmers and they would tell you their palaver. The Overall Tema Municipal Farmer Mr Ellis Aferi and his wife Mrs Rosemary Aferi, began their Soka Farms Complex with ten fowls. The pig (a sow), was sent to a farm on a cart to be serviced and brought back breeding.

His piggery is now a real mod­el of inspiration. “We started right from the scratch without any bank loan or financial assistance from any quarter. We placed our trust in labour, hard work and the advice of extension officers. Today we have a large piggery, poultry breeding house, mushroom and snail quarters, fishpond and beehives aside the rabbits we breed. All these without a penny from anywhere,” Mr Aferi told me just last week.

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However, he bemoaned the current situation farmers are facing “We have exploited our creativity, our imagi­nation and our muscles. There is a limit to productivity using only human labour and ingenuity. We now want to grow bigger but without funding there is little we can achieve in our bid to grow and develop.”

Mr Aferi like, his colleagues, uses about one ton of wheat bran to pre­pare feed for his birds, pigs, snails and fishes every week. When Food Complex was in operation, they had their wheat bran without problem. Today, there are mafia connections in the wheat bran trade.

According to all the livestock farmers I’ve spoken to, it is hard to get wheat bran from GAFCO or Irani Brothers directly. They allege that the companies prefer to sell to some wealthy women and top business-men who can buy wheat bran on condition­al basis (that is together with flour and other products of the companies), than to farmers.

Then these women and business­men through their agents resell the bran to the poor farmers at cut-throat prices. I don’t think the system is be­ing fair to farmers. It is indeed a trag­edy for the farmers who through their sweat and blood the nation is fed.

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“We protest heart and soul,” one farmer yelled at me as if I was re­sponsible for their plight. “How can I feed my birds and pigs satisfactorily if I cannot get wheat bran at the fac­tory price? We disagree that because we are poor, things should be made difficult for us. The rich must not be allowed to exploit us like that.”

The proprietor of Soka Farms, Mr Aferi, for instance has risen from the discomfort of the dust and hardness of the earth to such an enviable height to be an award winner who now holds seminars for farmers, students and officials of organisations on his farm near the Ashiaman-Michel Camp bar­rier. He must be propped up, even if not with money with inputs on credit basis.

The government must think about setting up a special fund for such indi­vidual farmers to grow, while prevent­ing them from cheats and those in the cloak of the mafia.

This article was first published on Saturday, September 21, 1996

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Mystery surrounding figure five

There seems to be something mysterious about the figure five or numbers ending in five. A few days ago I realised it was June 3, so I called my brother-in-law, to talk about his narrow escape from the disaster which occurred at circle in 2015.

It is a date that reminds the family each year of the goodness of the Lord every year since the incident. My brother-in-law had been standing and chatting with some friends at one of the shops that got burnt less than an hour before the incident happened.

Therefore for us as a family, we cel­ebrate that day as a day of deliverance of one of us even as we sympathise with those who lost loved ones in that fire disaster. Later on after I finished talking to my brother-in-law and was reflecting on the incident and issues around it, another incident early on in that same year, came to mind.

The incident had to do with an air disaster in Europe and I began won­dering if the number five in the figure 2015, had something to do with it.

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Reports came through that a Lufthansa flight from Barcelona in Spain, flying to Germany, had disap­peared from the radar around the Swiss Alps and that a search was being organised to try and locate it.

The result of the search established that the aircraft had crashed. What is even sad about this incident are the issues that led to its occurrence. Investigations conducted after the crash revealed that, it was deliberate­ly caused.

It was revealed that, the pilot steeped out of the cockpit to go to the washroom. The co-pilot locked the door so no one could enter the cockpit without him opening it.

He then proceeded to set the air­craft on autopilot to crash the plane. When the Pilot realised that there was something wrong with the plane he rushed towards the cockpit, only to realise that it was locked.

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He banged on the door to no avail. They tried contacting the co-pilot but he would not answer. Nothing in this world will be more painful than to see death coming and being helpless to prevent it. They could do nothing until the plane crashed.

A former girlfriend of the co-pilot revealed later to the investigators that he once told her that one day, he would do something that the world will forever remember his name. It came out later also, that he was told by his Doctor not to fly a plane again until his medical condition improves.

Apparently he had a mental prob­lem but he kept it to himself and his employer never knew anything about his condition and he sadly killed high school students, about 60 from the same school, returning home from an educational tour in Spain.

This is one thing I have been praying against and I can imagine the grief of the parents of these students who tragically lost their lives.

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In 2005, there was Hurricane Katrina which brought in its wake such a huge devastation in the United States. In that same year, an earthquake oc­curred in Kashmir resulting in over 86,000 people losing their lives, again note the last digit of the figure 2005.

I am therefore inclined to believe that we need to intensify prayer this year, 2025 to avert disaster. History has a way of repeating itself. Until I grew up, especially at the second­ary school level, I wondered why we should study history and that apart from it being a reminder of dates on which certain events occurred, there was really no use for it.

I now know better that it is the basis for forecasting future events. Our teachers did not help us by not telling us the importance of history, maybe I would have become the National

By Laud Kissi-Mensah

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