Features
Whose voice matters?
Let me state why I would not fight for an elected political office: it is because I very likely would be treated the way the likes of Kwame Nkrumah, Patrice Lumumba, Muamar Gadhafi and many other African leaders were treated.
I have a great deal of admiration for the Agogohene of Asante, Nana Akuoko Sarpong. He is a great statesman, lawyer, politician and traditional ruler. My first encounter with Nana was at a media encounter in one of the restaurants at Oxford Street at Osu. It was a forum at which public figures met with senior journalists to discuss background information on certain trending policies and events.
I cannot recollect the exact date because all my diaries were destroyed in the floods that hit my home in the night of June 19, 2009, here in Accra. But what I remember is that it was about the time Asanteman had lost Otumfuor Opoku Ware II and some names popped up as likely successor to the Golden Stool. After the death of the Asantehene there were rumours that the government of the time had a favoured candidate for the Stool. Also in attendance was Ambassador Victor Gbeho.
I cannot remember if I was the one who sought Nana Sarpong’s take on the issue, but the issue was raised and he responded in a manner that still resonates with me. Nana said no one, not even the government he served in, could dictate to Asanteman who should be Asantehene. He has won my heart ever since that statement. Only recently, Nana Agogohene made another statement to the effect that Ghana should consider moving the nation’s capital away from Accra. The media carried his call on front pages. Less than a few days later, three engineers picked up the tune in support of Nana’s call.
I take nothing away from Nana and his call, but I remember writing a comprehensive treatise on why the capital should move from Accra and had it published. The only person to call and congratulate me on that piece was the late elder statesman, Mr. K. B. Asante. My question, since after Nana’s call, is: do we have to be prominent people before our voices can be heard? Then I remember in the middle of 1986 after I had returned to Ghana, I wrote a letter to the then Ministry of Transport & Communications on the numbering of automobiles.
I suggested the numbering that is in place now, but with a system that would make identifying the Region, District or even local areas easily identifiable from the number plate. Till date, no letter came from that Ministry acknowledging receipt of my letter. Very likely, I am not considered prominent enough to have a voice. I still read many articles making very lofty and nationalistic analyses on which way the country can move forward, but because the authors are not names that evoke a certain presence, these beautiful ideas fade into oblivion.
Even when officialdom commissions fora for brainstorming on certain pertinent national issues, very little, if any, action is taken on their recommendations. How much more when a single person makes suggestions for national development? Visionaries hardly live to see their dreams come into fruition, but the first step is just as important as the realisation of their dreams. In our case, however, the visionary dies and takes his dreams along with him.
Listen to the people chatting away in commercial vehicles. Listen to the chatter in the marketplace. Listen to the conversation among students. These are our sources of inspiration. And listen to the ordinary people. These people speak wisdom and you are in awe of the depth of their wisdom. Officialdom is cocooned in their air-conditioned offices and cars; they shut the world of realities outside the door. The only issues that catch their attention are suggestions from ‘prominent’ citizens. But these people have become prominent because they achieved something for themselves or from positions thrust upon them. What about the ordinary man in the street on whose behalf we run the affairs of state?
Only recently, Sir Sam Jonah, at a forum organized by the Rotary Club, made a statement to the effect that authority is uncomfortable when truth is told them. This is very true, especially in an era where political activism is rife on social media and the hounds of the political class will descend on you like a pack of wolves for daring to speak truth to authority. Sir Jonah intoned that government policies determine whether or not investors would want to do business in Ghana.
He touched on a wide range of issues of national importance, but the question remains as to whether his voice goes far enough for us to listen. Listen to him: ”….what is baffling is that those who used to have voices on these things seem to have lost their voices. People speak on issues based on who is in power. Is our deafening silence suggesting that we are no longer concerned with issues that we complained about not too long ago, particularly when those issues persist…?”
Then he turned his attention on me and my colleagues: “Our media landscape is so polarised and partisan. There is hardly any objectivity, because a lot of the media stations are owned by politicians whose interest is in swaying voters one way or the other. Independent media practice seems to have faded into oblivion and journalism has become a conveyor belt for political propaganda, insults and acrimony.”
I can say, with near certainty, that Ghana’s capital will remain Accra for the next 100 years. Who would want their multimillion investments in plush real estate to go bust when the capital moves from Accra and their values tumble? Who would want their pet baby of a 5,000 capacity cathedral become only a tourist attraction if the capital moves from Accra? Instead of investing in industrial infrastructure to create jobs for our teeming youth, our priority is a cathedral for us to pray in for jobs. Now, to get the capital out of Accra? It will not happen, if I knew the mentality of our leaders and their captains of industry and influence.
I can bet my last pesewa that Nana Agogohene’s voice is not even powerful enough. The power is in the pockets of the moneybags whose economic and financial fortunes outweigh any national agenda for development. And they call the shots. Meanwhile, Accra has reached Kasoa and Gomoa Buduburam in the Central Region. Accra has caught up with the Akuapem Mountains and Miotso to the east. Truth be told, Accra has outlived its usefulness as a nation’s capital. Indeed, Accra is suffocating.
One reason the capital will move is when the realisation dawns on us that Accra has fallen below the level of the Atlantic Ocean. Even that will meet a resistance with the excuse that the Netherlands live under water. We cannot manage the annual deluge when the rains set in but we will quickly compare ourselves to the Netherlands. We are almost in the rainy season now and our preparedness will be put to the test once again.
The other reason might be only under a military government the way Abuja was created in Nigeria. I am by no means calling for a military regime for this country. Far from that, but it will take a revolution of the mind to get a movement of Ghana’s capital off the ground. As the saying goes, a journey of a thousand kilometres begins with a step. Nana Agogohene has spoken. Sir Sam Jonah has spoken just like many others, but whose voice matters?
By Dr. Akofa K. Segbefia
Attention-Deficit or Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) is often mistaken for laziness or indiscipline. In consulting rooms across Accra and in reports from school teachers, the pattern repeats: children who are bright but forgetful, parents who feel helpless, teachers who see incompleteness.
Research is clear-Barkley (2015) and others describe ADHD as a difference in the brain’s regulation of alertness, impulse and working memory, not a lack of effort.
The family’s role begins with structure. Regular sleep, predictable meal and homework times, and a simple visual list (uniform → books → water → corridor) provide the external scaffolding of these children need. Praise what is completed—“You opened the book and wrote the first sentence”-instead of rebuking what is missing.
Schools can help by seating the child front-row and centre, giving short written plus verbal instructions, allowing brief movement breaks, using quiet nonverbal cues and, where possible, grading effort and method as well as neatness. These adjustments reduce conflict and raise submission rates without lowering standards.
Couples and caregivers should share roles: one grounds, one pivots, and both protect rest. Shame-“bad parenting, bad child”-needs replacing with fact: different wiring, needs scaffolding.
Outcomes improve not by promises of perfection but by daily routines, clear limits and warmed connection. One homework slot kept, one instruction chunked, one calm repair after blurting-these small wins shift the family climate and let the child be seen beyond the label.
Resource
• CPAC (award-winning Mental Health and Counselling Facility): 0559850604 / 0551428486
Source: REV. COUNSELLOR PRINCE OFFEI’s insights on special needs support, relationships, and mental health in Ghana. He is a leading mental health professional, lecturer, ADR Expert/Arbitrator, renowned author, and marriage counsellor at COUNSELLOR PRINCE & ASSOCIATES CONSULT (CPAC COUNSELLOR TRAINING INSTITUTE) – 0551428486 /0559850604.
WEBSITES:
https://princeoffei22.wixsite.com/author
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After two weeks of hectic activity up north, I drove to the Tamale airport, parked the car at the Civil Aviation car park as usual, paid the usual parking fee and boarded the plane for Accra.
Over the last two weeks, I had shuffled between three sites where work was close to completion.
One was a seed warehouse, where farmers would come and pick up good quality maize, sorghum and other planting material.
The other was a health facility for new mothers, where they were given basic training on good nutrition and small scale business.
And the third was a set of big boreholes for three farming communities.
The projects usually ran on schedule, but a good deal of time was spent building rapport with the local people, to ensure that they would be well patronised and maintained.
It was great to be working in a situation where one’s work was well appreciated. But it certainly involved a lot of work, and proactivity. And I made sure that I recorded updates online before going to bed in the evening.
When the plane took off, my mind shifted to issues in Accra, the big city. The young guys at my office had done some good work. They had secured five or six houses on a row in a good part of the city, and were close to securing the last.
When we got this property, unusually, Abena greeted them casually, and appeared to be comfortable in the guy’s company.
I was quite disappointed to hear that, because until the last few weeks, it seemed as if Abena and I were heading in a good direction. Apart from the affection I had for her, I liked her family. I decided to take it easy, and allow things to fall in whatever direction.
Normally I would take a taxi to her house from the airport, and pick her up to my place. This time I went to my sisters’ joint, where they sat by me while I enjoyed a drink and a good meal.
“So Little Brother,” Sister Beesiwa said, “what is it we are hearing about our wife-to-be?”
“When did you conclude that she was your wife-to-be? And what have you heard? I’ve only heard a couple of whispers. Ebo and Nana Kwame called to say that they have seen her in the company of—”
“Well said Little Brother,” Sister Baaba said. “By the way, Nana Kwame called an hour ago to ask if you had arrived because he could not reach you. Someone had told him that Jennifer had boasted to someone that she had connected Abena to a wealthy guy who would take care of her.”
I was beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. So I think Jennifer fed her with false stories about me in order to get her to move to the Ampadu guy. Jennifer must have been well compensated for her efforts.
“In that case,” Sister Beesiwa said, “you should be glad that Abena is out of your way. She is easily swayed. Anyone who would make a relationship decision based on a friend’s instigation lacks good sense. I hope the guy is as wealthy as they say?”
“Who gets wealthy running a supermarket chain in Ghana?” Sister Baaba said. “Our supermarkets sell mostly imported products. Look at the foreign exchange rate. And remember that Ghanaians buy second-hand shoes and clothes. Supermarkets are not good business here. Perhaps they are showing off that they are wealthy, but in reality they are not doing so well.”
“Amen to that,” I said. “I’m beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. So I think Jennifer fed her with false stories about me in order to get her to move to the Ampadu guy. Jennifer must have been well compensated for her efforts.”
She said that David Forson was only an agricultural extension worker in the north who did not have the resources to take care of a beautiful girl like her. And apart from being wealthy, the guy comes from an influential family, so Abena had done much better leaving a miserable civil servant like you for him.
“Amen to that,” I said. “I’m beginning to understand. For some time, Abena had been asking me what work I was doing up north, and after I had explained it to her, she kept asking. We would be able to sell all five houses to one big corporate customer, and we had already spoken to a property dealer who was trying to find a buyer in order to get a good commission.
That was going to be my biggest break. I had asked the boys to look for a large tract of land on the outskirts of the city where we could develop our own set of buildings, blocks of storey houses and upscale apartments. Things were going according to plan, and I was quietly excited. However, things were not going so well regarding my relationship with Abena.
My buddies Ebo and Nana Kwame had called to say that they met Abena and her friend Jennifer enjoying lunch with a guy, and Ebo believed that Jennifer was ‘promoting’ an affair between Jennifer and the guy. They were of the view that the promotion seemed to be going in the guy’s favour, because only an agricultural extension worker in the north who did not have the resources to take care of a beautiful girl like her.
And apart from being wealthy, the guy comes from an influential family, so Abena had done much better leaving a miserable civil servant like you for him.
“As I’ve already said, I will stop by her place, but I will mind my own business from now. Hey, let’s talk family. How are our parents? And my brothers-in-law? And my nephews and nieces? Why don’t we meet on Sunday? I’m going to drop my bags at my place, and go to see Mama and Dad.”
