There will always be a loser

Ironing my clothes this morning, I heard a radio presenter announce that Man City’s Coach, Robert Mancini, had complained bitterly about the refereeing of the Chelsea – Man City match. According to the report, Mancini remonstrated passionately, citing as examples, a series of questionable decisions by referee Mark Clattenburg, that resulted in Chelsea’s unexpected win.

 

Subconsciously, to relieve me from the tedium of ironing, I slipped into a daydream, where Robert Mancini and Man City fans, declared themselves the winners of the game and streamed onto the Stamford Bridge pitch to celebrate. Chelsea fans outraged, converged on the field to protest the unilateral declaration of winning by Robert Mancini. The referee sensing danger, escaped into the Chelsea fans but outraged Man City fans followed him into the Chelsea fans and dragged him out. Violence ensued between both sides and with TV cameras focused on the unfolding events, the whole of the soccer world, paused momentarily to follow events on their TV’s, PC’s, iPads and mobile phones. There were even fans in the stands filming and streaming the proceedings live with their iPad2’s . . . . . . . . . .

Inflamed by the violence on the pitch, fans of both clubs, poured out on the streets of the United Kingdom, to protest and declare themselves winners of the game. This led to running battles and the Police were called in. As tends to happen in fluid situations like this, the Police had to resort to using overpowering force to subdue the violence. Injuries were sustained, and images of bloodied supporters were broadcast live to a global audience. Politicians, footballers and coaches from other clubs and countries waded into the imbroglio, some taking the side of Mancini and casting aspersions on the referee and his conduct of the match. They encouraged Mancini to remain on the streets to fight for his rights and accused the Police of using undue violence against the Man City fans.

The situation looked like it was deteriorating uncontrollably until Rrrrrrrrrrrrrring!! My mobile phone rang. My mom regular as clockwork, had called to check on her son. Well he was so fine, he was daydreaming. Her son quickly snapped back to reality but the daydream or rather daymare had been so vivid, it had seemed real. Thankfully it had not been reality. I reflected on it and the incongruity of it all jumped up and out at me. It was simply ridiculous to visualize Roberto Mancini declaring himself winner of the soccer match. It was even more ridiculous to imagine Mancini and Man City storming angrily and self-righteously to the nearest courtroom to lodge a lawsuit against the English FA. Rules were rules and no matter how unfair the rules or certain refereeing decisions were, the rules of the game had to be followed. And followed they always were. Because it was just a game of football. I repeat, it was just a game of football. There was simply no point risking life and limb to protest what might have seemed an unfair decision.

Last year, during the World Cup, Ghana and Africa narrowly missed out on creating soccer history. An individual, whose name I cannot bring myself to mention, used his hand to prevent Ghana from scoring a goal. Irrespective of the emotions surrounding that incident, unfair as the circumstances surrounding them were, Ghana and Uruguay respected the rules of the game. We moved on. Nobody was physically hurt. Yes emotions were ruffled and pride was lost but not a limb nor life was lost. And that for me, was the most important thing.Emotions, ego's and pride are like foam mattresses. They might get bruised, dented or trampled upon but given time, they regain their former state. This regrettably is not the case with physical injury or death.

Steering this monologue to the topic of elections on our beloved continent, it is with similar incredulity that peaceful and progressive peoples throughout the world observe Africa and its politics. Just like soccer matches are used to determine winners and losers, elections are democracy’s method of determining the winners from the losers. There are rules governing democracy and elections, just as rules exist governing soccer, that all participants have to abide by. Elections are held every so often and just like soccer matches, they are never perfect. Mistakes are made, by politicians, voters and electoral officials alike. Certain decisions by those overseeing elections are taken. But unlike soccer, it is slowly becoming fashionable to disregard the rules governing elections and the decisions of the electoral referees.

An interesting aspect of elections worldwide recently has been that, results of elections are always close. This suggests there will always be teeming hordes behind the winner and equally teeming hordes behind the loser. And once there is no overwhelming majority, in the election results or in the numbers of supporters on one side or the other, the tendency is for these situations to drag on. Difficult as it sometimes is, we must all collectively learn to accept the results of elections as announced or determined by electoral referees. Whatever spirit or mindset that enables us to accept the results of soccer matches, and trudge home or back to our daily lives, either happy or sad, we must employ towards election results.

Dr Afari-Gyan is Ghana’s and possibly, Africa’s most experienced political referee. Judging by the copious quantities and questionable quality of the rhetoric as well as demagoguery in circulation, Ghana has possibly one of the most anticipated and most contested political soccer matches in less than 12 months time. There will be rules governing that political soccer match. We must all start psyching ourselves to participate in that match, in the spirit of the game. We must all start psyching ourselves to respect the rules of the game and accept the results of that match, irrespective of who wins or who loses.

At the end of it all, it will be just a game. Just like Chelsea and Man City was just another game, Election 2012 will just be another election in the Premier League of Ghana's political history. There will only be one winner if we respect the rules of the game. There will only be one loser if we don’t respect the rules of the game.

That winner or that loser will be the Republic of Ghana.

The Parallel Economy

Last Thursday, in the balmy humidity of my cocoa farm, with only my thoughts  for company, I turned on the radio. In far away Accra, the Minister of Finance was reading the budget for the next fiscal.

Big impressive figures rolled off his tongue about our economy and I am sure that if I lived outside Ghana, I would have been impressed. Very impressed. The problem was that after 44 years here on earth, listening to his many predecessors from the NPP, PNDC, previous governments and previous decades, I couldn’t help wondering how totally detached the figures were from the economy I participated in.

You see, I have always been convinced that in Ghana we have had a two track economy. In other words a two tier economy. One economy for the rich few and the other economy for the poor many. I happened to belong to the bottom tier economy. Driving under the Tetteh Quarshie overpass, it hit me that the top tier economy was like a railroad of wealth, suspended above and well out of the reach of us in the bottom tier economy. We in the bottom economy could see the money circulating on the tracks above but try as we could, we could not participate in that economy. Occasionally, those on the railroad above us, would throw us a few scraps from the economy above and we would scramble for the scraps below.For me, poor but educated cocoa farmer from Breman Asikuma, the most important thing was that the impressive figures reeling off the Ministers tongue applied to the economy upstairs. GDP growth, reduction in inflation . . that couldn’t apply to us down here.

Lemme explain why. My cocoa trees nestle under the protective shade of numerous plantain trees. My cocoa of course get captured by the suits in Accra because I get paid with an Akuafo Cheque. Cocoa feeds the economy on the railtracks above so it was too important not to capture. Not so for the plantain under whose shade my cocoa nestles. Periodically I harvest my plantain and haul it to the roadside. On nominated days, trucks come from Accra, Assin Fosu, Swedru and Akyim Oda to purchase my plantain. I am paid cash for my plantain. The buyers do not issue a receipt, neither do they request an invoice for my plantain. There are millions of other farmers like me, repeating the same transaction for various food items, plantain, yams, cassava, tomatoes, garden eggs. I wonder how on earth these transactions can be captured accurately or even estimated accurately by those in suits or political suits in Accra. They can’t because these foodstuffs are part of the parallel economy running at ground level.

My Uncle in Germany sent me a Benz bus to use as a passenger bus between Asikuma and Mankessim. However this vehicle plies the route between my house and the workshop far more than it does the route to Mankessim. I spend a fortune buying parts and paying the fitter. The fitter does not give me an invoice and neither does he issue receipts. I multiply my Benz bus by the many passenger buses out there in Ghana and wonder how on earth these transactions could be captured or estimated by the suits or political suits sitting in their air conditioned offices and Land Cruisers in Accra. They can’t because these spare parts and fitters fees are part of the parallel economy running at ground level.

I nearly forgot to add that when the Benz bus was on its way to Ghana, my uncle sent me some Deutschemarks to use to pay for duty and clearing when it landed. He sent it through someone flying in, so I travelled to Accra and went to the Airport. As soon as I picked up the money, I walked down to the Airport roundabout and changed it into cedis. No receipt, no invoice, just pure cash. Come and capture this transaction Mr Economist. You can’t because it is part of the parallel economy. Meanwhile travel to South Africa and see if you can change a single dollar without producing your passport. Come to Cow Lane in Accra and the volumes of forex traded there will stun the suits.

I think if you have survived to this point in my monologue, then you are beginning to get my point. There is simply a category, a whole load of economic transactions that run parallel to the formal economy of this country. The suits are aware of this and I am sure that with the best intentions, they try to factor it into their calculations of the Gross Domestic Product and Inflation et al. But they can’t.

If we were in a court of law, their submissions or postulations would be thrown out of court for lack of hard evidence. In a similar but less drastic vein, I, the humble cocoa farmer from Breman Asikuma, will accept the budget from the esteemed Finance Minister, with a pinch of salt from the Songhor lagoon. Because when it comes to the parallel economy, they are simply not part of it. We are.

The Discriminatory Mindset

It takes a certain mindset to be able to tell someone that he or she cannot be a member of a club because it is reserved only for Caucasians.

The human mind is a very interesting and malleable creation. It is a bit like a computer. Basically what one allows in, determines what will come out. Basically, Garbage in, Garbage out. Every human being is born with the mental equivalent of a clean slate. As we grow, our mindsets are gradually moulded by our interaction with the outside world. Our parents, our peers, our society, our culture, our education and especially our experiences all come together to give each of us a unique mindset to call our own.

Mental garbage can be acquired gradually over a long period of time or quickly after an intensive session of garbage acquisition. It could very well be that the fishmonger was not racist. But I am quite certain that his mindset contained some discriminatory garbage. It could very well be, that it was acquired well before he entered this country and married his Ghanaian wife. It could also be that he acquired it via the fast track route. This could have been through lavish doses of the typically subservient behavior that the majority of Ghanaians tend to exhibit towards our Caucasian brothers. He could also have acquired it just by sitting back and observing how we Ghanaians go about our daily life and the task of building our country.

Well the restaurant has been shut down. Shockwaves will hopefully have been sent through similar establishments and service providers throughout the capital and the country. It is time to turn the lens introspectively on ourselves as a society and examine whether similar mindsets, exist in minds throughout the country, black or white.

Amongst us Ghanaians, similar discriminatory mental garbage can be acquired gradually, culturally and traditionally. It is a common to observe tradesmen, folks from the village and employees, leave their shoes and sandals at the door and enter the house barefoot. In the unlikely event that one forgets to do this, he or she is quickly reminded to leave their shoes outside.

It is also a common Ghanaian practice not to allow our drivers or employees into our houses or living rooms for a second longer than it is absolutely necessary. It is anathema to find a driver or house help, in their Masters living room, watching TV with them. It is very rare to find house helps, imported from the rural areas, eating the same food and enjoying the same treatment or privileges as their employers children. Don’t be fooled for a second. It is the same discriminatory mindset at work here.

Subconsciously to the perpetrator, the driver or house help is simply not a member of the household even though he or she might be a part of it in so many ways. Thus they do not qualify. It might not be white against black, it is black on black but that does not make it any less reprehensible. Countless other examples of the discriminatory mindset but it is pointless to enumerate them all. We can however, safely conclude that the discriminatory mindset doesn’t discriminate when it comes to which type of mind to inhabit. It could be Italian but it could also very well be Ghanaian.

It came as quite a shock when we discovered that the discriminatory statement was not a criminal offence. It is thus imperative to discuss legislation that can be passed to ensure the discriminatory mindset is expunged from all minds, African, Middle Eastern, Asian or Caucasian.

We need to draw our legislators eyes to the South African Promotion of Equality and Prevention of Unfair Discrimination Act, 2000 .It is a comprehensive anti-discrimination law enacted by the Parliament of South Africa. It expands on the anti-discrimination provisions of the equality clause (section 9) of the Bill of Rights in the Constitution of South Africa, prohibiting unfair discrimination by the government, private organizations and individuals. It also forbids hate speech and harassment. The act specifically lists race, gender, sex, pregnancy, marital status, ethnic or social origin, colour, sexual orientation, age, disability, religion, conscience, belief, culture, language and birth as "prohibited grounds" for discrimination, but also provides that discrimination on other grounds can be unfair if it has similar effects on dignity or equality. I would however recommend that the sexual orientation bit be removed from our implementation of such a law.

I would suggest that our legislators go one step further and criminalise any contravention of the above law with stiff penalties. We should then implement it with the same vigour with which we argue on radio stations every day about housing for ex Presidents.

And to those visiting our shores from far yonder, who hide that discriminatory mindset behind condescending smiles. Don’t think for one second, that this article seeks to absolve or play down the reprehensibility of that sort of mindset or behavior. It is reprehensible and will not be tolerated. When it comes to matters like this, we will unite together as Ghanaians and Blacks and deal with you accordingly and legally.

I rest my case

The total Wrongness of Ghanaian Society

One thing which Islam, Judaism and Christianity agree on, is the story of, or facts surrounding the rise, the rot and the eventual demise of Sodom and Gomorrah. In a  nutshell, the ancient biblical city of Sodom and Gomorrah descended into so much moral wrongdoing that it eventually paid the ultimate price. In so many respects, our country Ghana, reminds me of the story of Sodom and Gomorrah. This article is about the state of affairs a society finds itself in when it descends into a total morass of wrongdoing. Like I believe Ghana has.

A close friend’s car was rammed by a truck. Both parties reported to the nearest Police Station. Both cars were detained over the weekend because of the ostensible lack of a testing officer. On Monday the truck is gone. Pressed for an explanation, the cops say a testing officer was found on Sunday to test the truck so it had been released to its owners.

A relative sells something to somebody in good faith on credit. Full payment is not made so it proceeds to court. Court rules in favour of relative. Questionable appeal is made to another court. It is granted. Legal loopholes being exploited by the wrong people for the wrong ends.

Twice, CCTV cameras capture an employee entering his employer’s office after working hours, ransacking the office and pocketing various sums of monies found. Suspects spends a few days behind bars at the nearest police stations and then are bailed by their relatives. End of cases.

2 respected banks are called upon on separate occasions to honor performance bonds for non-performance during a project. They go through the motions of bureaucracy and there is a delay. Then out of the blue, the contractors go to court and place an injunction on the release of the performance bond. Further legal action and wrangling. Justice delayed is justice denied. Question is, who in the bank leaked to the contractors, that the performance bonds were being called upon?

All Land Cruiser owners in Ghana are de facto Ministers. So while the citizenr, inch forward patiently in traffic, they speed past, lights blinking on the opposite side of the road and against the flow of the oncoming traffic. Any brave idiot puts on his indicators and he will breeze past all of us. We are only trying to be law abiding. And the saddest thing is that they get away with it. That only serves to emboldens other ill disciplined drivers.

Increasingly, friends complain about being stopped by Policemen on the highway for speeding. They all  complain about strange speeds indicated on the radar guns that are at variance with the speeds there were actually doing. Then a speeding big shot encounters some Policemen who flag him down. He demonstrates a little “who born dog” and all Policemen are hauled to Accra for a good dressing down. The populace sit back confused because all sides are wrong, We can’t take sides.

The common thread through all this, is that the law and laid down procedures are exploited to achieve the wrong ends. Right becomes wrong and wrong becomes right. Innocents become victims and the guilty become innocents. In almost every aspect and facet of Ghanaian society, the wrong thing is done. And they are done “according to the law”. The pervasiveness of wrongdoing is such that criticism of a single act, becomes a criticism of the entire society. Like an immune system the entire society comes together to attack and consume whoever dares to criticize or correct it’s wrongs.

Just like a car, people, procedures, laws and societal mechanisms have to work the way they are designed to. A car or airplane is basically an amalgamation of many component parts, working the way they are designed to, and always in unison. Any deviation from the norm and warning signals are sent to the Pilot or driver. Prompt action to correct any deviant part or behavior and the vehicle gets to its destination on time and in one piece. Continuously ignoring the warning signals leads to delays at best or entire crashes at worst.       

Similarly, in a society, little acts of wrongdoing cumulatively generate a boiling cauldron of resentment that simmers just below the veneer of society. A trigger, however miniscule, ignites this resentment and it bubbles over into a mighty tsunami of upheaval.  On Friday the 17^th of December 2010, less than a year ago, a frustrated young fruit seller called Muhammad Bouazizi set fire to himself. He died 18 days later on the 4^th of January this year. That singular act of immolation, triggered a sequence of events that ended or disrupted the lives and lifestyles of countless citizens in Tunisia, Egypt, Yemen, Libya and Syria.

We sit in Ghana and pass comments like “God loves Ghana”, “God must be a Ghanaian” et al. And then continue the cumulative wrongdoing without compunction. Who knows what or who our Muhammad Bouazizi will be and when?

Make we dey there.

What is a border

Just before one drives into my hometown Breman Asikuma, on the right side of the road from Nyakrom, my wife and I own some land, 200 metres into the hilly countryside. This is where we plan to build our retirement home when the children have flown the coop.

I remember clearly the day the land was demarcated and sold to us. We met the owner of the property by the roadside and walked, through somebody’s plantain farm and emerged onto a clearing looking down into a shallow valley. He looked around and asked us how much we had paid. He then pointed to the bottom of the valley. That become one border of our property. He then looked far across and pointed out a palm tree. That become the second corner of our property. A last look and yet another tree assumed the duties of the third corner of our property. Of course where we stood automatically become a corner as well. We all smiled, shook hands and walked off the property, leaving somebody to place pillars in each of the four corners.

127 years ago, in the city of Berlin, on a slightly larger scale, a similar process took place. The continent of Africa was partitioned into various territories under the various European colonial powers. America was invited but for some reason declined to take part. Like us in present day Breman Asikuma, the colonial powers used certain geographical features as well as economic considerations, to arbitrarily divide Africa up amongst themselves.

Our country Ghana is breathtakingly beautiful. A couple of weekends ago I had to drive 300 kilometres north to a little village called Pampawie. I had never been up that part of the country and I couldn’t help admiring the beautiful scenery as I drove through the Volta Region. I also couldn’t help noticing the beautiful green mountain range that, for most of the drive, formed my eastern horizon. And it set me thinking. The Colonial Powers, sitting around the conference table, 127 years ago in Berlin, with a relief map of West Africa spread out before them, must have used geographical features to divide our land up amongst themselves.

In the western part of Ghana, the river Tano flows from Techiman and empties 400km later, into the Aby Lagoon in Côte d'Ivoire. At the Ghanaian town of Fawmang, where it meets a thick forest, the Tano River represents the last few kilometres of the international land boundary between Ghana and Côte d'Ivoire.

I wonder how present day Ghana would have looked and fared if Germany and France had better negotiators than the British at the Berlin Conference. The Germans would have negotiated that the Volta River would form the eastern border of Ghana and the French could have ensured that the Tano River would be the western border of Ghana. I can imagine the British bargaining and extending the border from the Volta river to the mountain range that formed the beautiful cloud capped eastern horizon on my drive up that part of the country. And likewise to the West, pushing the border from the Tano river to the dense forests that now form most the border with Côte d'Ivoire.

I am sure that most of the negotiators, had probably never visited the beautiful continent of Africa. But as a result of their meeting, tribes, clans, families, and peoples were divided into different countries. Further down the century, with different political and administrative setups by the colonial powers, they developed different second languages, different mindsets, different philosophies, work ethics and value sets. Thankfully though, languages and cultures to a large extent have survived the 127 years since the Berlin Conference.

Which brings me back to the question that comprised the subject matter of this article. What is a border? In my humble opinion, a border is not just an imaginary line drawn on a political map. A border is an imaginary distinction in the minds of millions of peoples of common African Ancestry as a result of the Berlin Conference. An imaginary limit, an imaginary restriction, an imaginary constraint and possibly worst of all, an imaginary horizon placed in the minds of millions of Africans, that has managed to survive 127 years and possibly quite a few more.

On the 5^th of March 1957 AD, when the Gold Coast became Ghana, Kwame Nkrumah declared that the independence of Ghana was meaningless unless it was linked up with the total liberation of the African continent. Kwame Nkrumah was light years ahead of his time. Somehow he managed to discern that the greatest obstacle to Africa’s emancipation and progress was the imaginary border/horizon implanted in our collective mindset by decades and centuries of colonialism.

My remix of Kwame Nkrumah’s famous saying would be . . . “The Independence of Ghana is meaningless until the total liberation of African minds is achieved".

I can visualize Kwame Nkrumah up there in heaven, nodding his head and smiling in approval.

Candle in the wind . . . . .

14 years ago, sitting alone in my flat in London, the news broke that Princess Diana had died in a car crash in Paris. I remember the saturation in the TV coverage of her death and I remember very well quietly shedding a tear or two . . . it was just a very sad event and atmosphere.


Into the charged emotional mix, Elton John released his Candle in the Wind song and I remember thinking to myself that it was getting a bit too much, what with songs and tings being released into the whole shebang. Already, even without the song, man wan cry already sef. Well to cut a long story short, I never bothered with the lyrics of the song or bothered to understand the significance of the title of the song, until today. Why???? Because I have had a horrible week . . .a weekus horribilis to paraphrase Her Royal Majesty the Queen of England. In the space of a week, several deaths have hit me big time. 


States
My good friend and the epitome of a perfect suave gentleman, Robert Blay aka Statesman was stabbed in the throat in the early hours of the morning a week ago. He managed to drive himself to the Tema General hospital, park his car, and walk into the OPD at 03:45am. By 04:21, in the emergency section of the hospital, his soul left his body permanently. A promising life, a gentleman, a decent man's life had been snuffed out just like that.


Steve Jobs
Even before I could come to terms with Statesman's passing, the news also broke that Steven Paul Jobs had finally succumbed to Pancreatic Cancer. Even though I had never met or seen Steve Jobs, his death hit me real hard. Steve Jobs was so cool, so talented, so anti conventional wisdom, so rich, so powerful that it was kinda hard to accept that he also could die. It hit me real hard that no matter how high we humans flew, how much we achieved in life, how talented we were, we could be recalled by God at any time. And there was no formula or criteria. Unlike the rules that tended to persist in our world, anybody, irrespective of wealth or status could be recalled by God at any time. No connection, no bribing, no lobbying.


Father George
This morning the news was broken to me . . .that another very good friend, almost a brother, Father George Abakah had also succumbed to Liver Cancer. Father George was just a few years older than myself, if not my age. He was the Priest who officiated at my wedding. During his sermon, as tends to be usual during most sermons, my mind wandered off until I heard him mention Bob Marley and then sing the first line of Bob Marley's Natural Mystic. Hey!! Now that was one funky Catholic Father. The guy became my paddy paaah after that.


I visited him exactly 2 weeks ago. I knew he was ill and that the diagnosis was dire. But I was surprised by his optimism and it reinvigorated mine. I had been struggling with my faith in God. I didn't understand why God would let one of his faithful servants be struck with Liver Cancer. But he told me that he was on the mend and that he would be a living testimony to the power of God. I left him full of faith in Gods ability to perform a miracle cos I was witnessing one live. I exchanged text messages with him exactly a week ago. He said he was getting better. A week later  . . . . . . . 


I have been in a very reflective mood today. And the underlying theme of my reflections is basically about how fleeting life is. How transient our stay here on earth is. About the inevitability of the icy hands of death. Here today, gone tomorrow. Healthy today, dead tomorrow. 


Driving back towards home after my rounds in Accra town, Elton Johns song came to mind.  I focused on the title of the song. Candle in the wind. It was today, after so many years, that the significance of Elton's song and its title struck me. Yes that's how our lives and our souls are. They are like the flames of candles, fluttering in the wind. A particular gust of wind, in a particular direction, at a particular strength of the candles flame and the flame could be doused. Just like that!!!!!

The True perpetrators of manslaughter on Ghanaian roads

Manslaughter is defined as the crime of killing a human being without malice, forethought, or otherwise in circumstances not amounting to outright murder.

With the above definition in mind, let’s go back in time. Some time ago, during the past year, a truck driver noticed that his Road Worthiness Certificate was about to expire. These days it was not easy being a driver of an articulated truck. There was a lot of competition for the business of transporting goods and containers around the country. Margins were thin and the owner of his truck was putting a lot of pressure on him to increase revenue. Every little bit of money saved, counted. The last thing he wanted was a policeman stopping him on the highway and “fining” him for an expired Road Worthiness Certificate.

Mr Kojo Truck Driver aka Kargo Brent, found some time and drove to the DVLA office. As soon as he drove into the DVLA office, he was accosted by the so called “goro boys”. They were offering a Fast Track service where the renewal of his Road Worthiness Certificate would be expedited through the normally slow inspection process. For an ordinary truck driver, this was too tempting to refuse. For a few more Ghana Cedi’s, he could have his Road Worthiness Certificate extended for another year in less than 20 minutes. He looked through the sea of faces under his window and selected Kofi Goro. At once Kofi Goro knew that he was going to get enough money to feed his family for another day.

Under a fan in the offices of the DVLA, Mr Kwasi Safety Inspector was doing his calculations. He had a lot on his mind. He had school fees to contend with, his building project at Ashiaman required an injection of cash to take it to the next level and his mistress needed chop money for the next month. He had also been rejecting calls from the village. In the midst of his mental deliberations, Kofi Goro walked up to his desk, saluted him and stood at attention. At once Kwasi’s immediate future brightened. A truck required fast track service. And the driver was willing and able to pay for it. Kwasi Safety asked where the truck was and Kofi Guru pointed through the windows, to one of the trucks parked in the yard.

Some “goro” exchanged hands, Kwasi Safety got up reluctantly, wore his white overalls and sauntered over to the truck. He walked around the truck once and then looked at the tires. His professional training told him that the tires needed replacing urgently. He looked around and asked who the driver was. Kargo Brent raised his hands respectfully. In a stern voice, Kwasi Safety told Kargo Brent to make sure that he changed his tires as soon as possible. He then walked back to his office and in 15 minutes time, Kargo Brent’s certificate had been processed and renewed. Needless to say, once his Road Worthiness Certificate had been renewed, Kargo Brent did not bother to change his tires.

Fast forward to last Saturday, near the SCC junction at Kasoa, when a truck lost a tire and the driver lost control. The truck veered off its path and run into a passenger vehicle disgorging it’s passengers by the roadside. 4 Ghanaians, going about their normal day to day business, lost their lives. 17 – 20 more were injured and are currently receiving treatment at Korle Bu hospital. Kwasi Safety and Kofi Goro heard the news on the radio and did not give it a second thought. But unbeknownst to them, they had been unwitting accomplices to this particular incident of manslaughter on Ghana’s roads. By their actions or inactions, they allowed a particular sequence to unfold, resulting in the inadvertent deaths of their fellow Ghanaians.

A Police investigation will ensue. If we are lucky, the newspapers will report that the driver would have been arrested and charged. This will bring closure, Ghanaian style, to the entire saga. The vehicle owner will get his vehicle back. He will get a couple of second hand tires, give them to a roadside vulcanizer to fix, repair the truck, find another driver and the entire cycle will repeat itself in less than a years time, when the next vehicle inspection is due.

Kwasi Safety would have moved his building project to the next level. His children would have completed another year in school and school fees would be due again. Kofi Goro would also be parading the yard of the DVLA, touting for his next job. Kwasi Safety had a supervisor. His supervisor had a boss ,whose boss was a Minister. That Minister had a President. And the buck stops with the President. He should have made sure that measures were in place to ensure that Kwasi Safety carried out that inspection and failed the truck because of its tires. And Kwasi Safety and co, should have continued to fail the truck until the tires were replaced with tires that would last another year on our roads.

Somewhere out there, in Ghana, the next set of victims will be going about their normal business, unaware of their impending fate at the merciless hands of this vicious cycle of manslaughter. As a maverick social commentator is reputed to have said, by way of natural disasters, America has its tornadoes, Japan its earthquakes, Asia it’s tsunami’s and Africa its leaders.

I rest my case.

What a difference a road makes

My old man bought his house in Teshie-Nungua back in 1970. Back in those days, Teshie-Nungua was the original Domeabra, where only those who really cared about you, dared to make the journey to visit you. However being only 15km from the Centre, it was not really that far. I started driving to Teshie-Nungua back in 1983. In those days, we used to live in Labone  and Teshie-Nungua was only a 20 minute drive away from Teshie-Nungua. It was an interesting drive, where one would drive, past the coastline dotted with the canoes of the fishermen, then over the bridge across the Kpeshie Lagoon, past the shooting range where the images of past leaders being tied to the stake and executed, would flash briefly through my mind. Finally the drive would take one through the fishing town of Teshie, and then finally into the "Estate" as it was then called.

Back to the present and to the subject matter. In recent times, a drive to Teshie-Nungua was synonymous with a drive through hell. Traffic would begin as far as La Palm and stretch all the way to the shooting range. The 20 minute journey now took a minimum of an hour. And to compound it all, hawkers darted in and out of cars, while mosquitoes generated by the stagnant waters of the Kpeshie lagoon, clamoured to have a go at depriving you of a few sips of blood.In a desperate bid to escape the traffic, we would resort to bush roads. These would reward our bravery with huge bills for repairing damaged vehicular suspension components. We couldn’t organise parties and invite our friends over because they would politely refer to the traffic.

Well it has all changed. A project to widen the road into a 6 lane highway has been partly completed. One day after my usual rounds in town, I visited my classmate Wakefield Ackuaku in Osu and hung around until 8pm. With apprehension, I pointed the car in the direction of Teshie-Nungua and floored the pedal. As I approached La Beach hotel I wondered why there was no traffic. I crossed the Bridge over the Kpeshie and sped towards the Military Academy. Still no traffic. I begun to wonder whether something was wrong. As I sped past the Military academy the road suddenly widened and road markings suddenly appeared on the road. It was a brand new road and I just sped along it without any traffic in sight.

There was something surreal about it all. In 12 years of horrible traffic along that road, there simply was none.I remember asking myself . ."was that all it took?" A portion of a road, partially complete, could make such a huge difference to traffic and to the general well being of commuters to that part of town. Thats how bad things had become.I remember feeling sad. If only our leaders would focus on doing what they are supposed to do, the quality of our lives would improve dramatically. The road is not even finished and yet is making a huge difference. That’s how bads thing are. Or were.

Going home never felt so good, getting home never felt so cool . . . God bless Ghana.

The gradual end of the Aviation era in Ghana

London Heathrow is one of the busiest, if not the busiest Airport on Planet Earth. On one of my flights into Heathrow on Ghana Airways, we were asked to circle over London until it was our turn to land. After circling over London for a while, we begun our descent. The aircraft suddenly made a steep bank to the left, leveled out and after a while executed a similar maneuver. The pretty lady next to me grabbed my arm and held tight.  I prayed for many more such turns. There was a mathematical precision to the banking of the aircraft, almost as if it had been calculated to fly exactly along the perimeter of an imaginary rectangle in the sky. After yet another sharp mathematical turn, the buildings comprising Heathrow airport, whizzed by through the small window. Until the reverse thrust kicked in, we didn’t even realize that we had landed. Inexplicably, we broke into spontaneous applause.

This as usual, was a textbook landing by Captain Kofi Ampomah, the first pilot from the Asikuma-Odoben-Brakwa district. He also happened to be one of the first four Ghanaians who qualified as commercial pilot before Ghana’s independence in 1957. We Bremanese can proudly claim to have made an impact on the Ghanaian Aviation Scene. Not only did Captain Ampomah inspire other male Bremanese boys to become Pilots, he also inspired a lady from Breman Asikuma, Miss Joanna Dickson to become one of the first three Ghanaian female Pilots.

Captain Ampomah learnt how to fly from the best British Pilots. He was by nature a perfectionist and this, coupled with the rigorous training by his instructors resulted in arguably, one of the best commercial pilots ever. Long before the advent of computer controlled flight, he had learnt to navigate a plane by using the position of the stars. This knowledge came in handy on a flight where his instrumentation failed. To the amazement of the younger pilots, and without batting an eyelid, he coolly navigated the plane to its destination using the stars.

Captain Ampomah, together with the other three aviation pioneers, Captain Agyare, Captain Dorkenoo and Captain Sam, institutionalized a tradition of excellence in flight that lasted throughout the tenure of Ghana Airways. This was indubitably evinced in Ghana Airways’s trademark smooth landings. Indeed if a Ghana Airways pilot executed a rough landing, he would be the object of laughter and jokes for a considerable period of time. When Ghana Airways was cruelly and systematically destroyed by Ghanaians, other airlines quickly snapped up our Pilots.

Ghana Airways ruled the West Coast of Africa. As soon as Ghanaians killed the venerable institution, a vacuum was created and numerous airlines sprang up to fill the vacuum. Imagine Legon or KNUST being shut down forever because it had amassed debts due to politician’s children and relatives being educated for free over decades. That is what Ghanaians did to Ghana Airways.

Captain Ampomah’s mind was always in overdrive. He was always willing to share his vast repository of knowledge. He always invited passengers into the cockpit for a tour. Ghana Airways pilots were an institution, an aviation resource that given the chance could have transformed Ghana into the hub of aviation for West Africa. Indeed watching the proceedings at Captain Ampomah’s funeral, I reflected sadly at how much aviation knowledge and experience was locked up in that wooden coffin bearing his mortal remains.

Ghana could have leveraged the vast knowledge and experience of Captain Ampomah and his colleagues to create an Aviation Centre of Excellence for the West African Region. Captain Ampomah and his colleagues could have been lecturers or Aviation Professors. It could have become the hub of an aviation education and possibly, industry in Ghana and West Africa.

But alas, we, as a nation have allowed the crucial body of knowledge and experience called Ghana Airways to implode and gradually dissipate. So watching Kwaku Sikahene Ampomah taking his father’s mortal remains away to be laid to rest, I could not help feeling that not only was Captain Ampomah being laid to rest but a significant part of Ghana’s aviation resource was being interred forever.

Ghanaians are a nation of talkers and not doers. We must begin to appreciate our resources and leverage them to become institutions. We will never realize our full potential until we begin to do so.

Captain Ampomah may have gone but his legacy lives on in the hearts of all Bremanese and quite a few Ghanaians. We will forever be proud of him, his achievements and his contribution to Breman in particular and Ghana in general.

Captain Ampomah is on his last flight. And we pray that he executes one of his smooth landings in Heaven.

Wikileaks and all that is wrong with Ghanaians and our self esteem Part II

At the entrance to the British High Commissioners Residence, I joined the queue of elegant looking and elegantly clad human beings. I stole a couple of glances to my left and right and noticed some very high profile Ghanaian Politicians and foreign diplomats. Everybody had their noses in the air so I quickly reverted to DWFA. There was a polite security detail at the gate verifying credentials. This was an orderly queue, unlike the queue at my favorite waakye joint, where queue jumping was the order of the day. Soon it was my turn at security. My invitation card was examined, compared with a guest and I was politely ushered into the compound. I was greeted by a smiling British Diplomat who pointed me in a particular direction. It struck me that this was the first British diplomat that I had seen smiling. Most diplomats had serious looks at best, barely disguised contemptuous looks at worst, when going about their usual business in Ghana.

The sounds of bagpipes greeted my rural ears. I rounded a bend in the pavement and saw a bona fide Scotsman, complete with kilt, seriously blowing on his bagpipes. Kwasi broni all the way from Bronikrom, standing there and playing music for me. Charlie it felt good. I rounded another bend and the reception unfolded before my eyes. It was taking place on the carefully manicured lawn and it was full of dignitaries both local (like me) and foreign ( like some of those I entered with). I looked around trying to find someone I knew. Zilch!! A waiter materialized from thin air with a tray laden with champagne. He offered me one. In my most imperious manner, I took a glass took a sip and looked around. I spotted President Kuffuor amongst the crowd. This was the first time in my miserable life I had seen him. He looked taller and more elegant in the flesh. Charlie this was my kinda crowd.

“Hello Sir”. I turned around and saw a dapper looking British Defence Official, resplendent in his army uniform, greeting two fellow Ghanaians next to me. “Oh hi” was the response from them with dazzlingly obsequious smiles. They launched into an animated conversation. It was obvious that they knew themselves very well and had a lot to discuss. With the benefit of retrospection, I wonder now whether the defence official was professionally extracting as much fodder for his weekly cables back to London.

To cut a long story short, because I was nobody, I got nobody to talk to that evening. Looking back, it was probably a blessing. By the time I walked onto that lawn, the ambience and atmosphere had elevated my ego and self esteem to previously unattained levels. And as one’s ego is boosted, his ability to think soberly and rationally would have diminished. If a diplomat had approached me and asked me questions, I would have answered all his questions and even asked if he could ask more questions for me to answer. If he didn’t have any more questions, I would have volunteered more information anyway.

After my experience, I now understand why our leaders and elite have unwittingly kept diplomats busy. Each and every one of them is only human. As humans, our senses ( all five of them, as well as the common one ) are easily dulled by drink and food. Their ego’s are slowly manipulated to a point where they find ourselves in a situation not unlike those of hostages afflicted with the Stockholm Situation, where they find ourselves sympathizing, empathizing and even assisting their captors.

So my admonishment to fellow Ghanaians is not to castigate those exposed by Wikileaks. If we understand them and the way they operate under certain conditions, we will begin to understand why they sang like melodious canaries.

Long live Julian Assange aka Aunty Julie. May God protect you.

Wikileaks and all that is wrong with Ghanaians and our self esteem Part I

Good ol Julian Assange. I honestly wonder how we would have wallowed in blissful ignorance if Julian Assange had chosen not to publish Wikileaks. I wonder what the radio stations and print media would have been discussing this morning, if the current tranche of Wikileaks had not been released. And last but not the least, I wonder whether the good fellows in our Intelligence community are as surprised as we the proletariat are, at the current revelations.

Amazing as it might sound, I am not surprised. At all. Most of the information that found it’s way onto Wikileaks via the diplomatic embassies, was gleaned from informal interaction with our leaders and us Ghanaians. Human beings and especially the Ghanaian elite love to move in exalted circles. There is nothing like an invitation to a diplomatic event, dinner or reception to give our elite the feeling that they have literally arrived on the social scene. The atmosphere and food at such events gradually weakens the guard of any invitee, to the extent that by the time a diplomat turns up, glass in hand to ostensibly, chat politely, one is ready to divulge any information to further prolong or reward the sense of importance and belonging.

I attended my first Diplomatic event at the age of 10 in 1977. It was the Silver Jubilee of Queen Elizabeth and the British Embassy organized an afternoon event in the garden of the residence of the British Ambassador. Being the archetypal Fante man, I headed for the pastries and I remember vividly the excellent scones I had at that event. They tasted so exquisitely nice that if any British embassy official had sauntered over to me and asked me innocent sounding questions about any aspect of my life, I would have happily volunteered the information while stuffing the scones in my mouth.

Fast forward to a couple of years ago when I was invited to a reception at the British High Commissioners Residence. I remember the sense of importance that flooded through my being, when the posh looking invitation was handed over to me. I, Kobina Ebo from Breman Asikuma, had been invited to a dinner at the residence of the British High Commissioner. To avoid losing the invitation, I hid it in the glove compartment of my car. I then looked for my whitest flowing African gown, took it to the laundry to ensure that it was gleaming white on that big day.

Come the evening of the event and I left work prematurely to struggle home through the abdominal Teshie Traffic. I had a quick shower, jumped into my diplomatic gown and headed back to Cantonments. It was dark by the time I got to the roundabout by the Togolese Embassy and I couldn’t help noticing numerous security operatives directing traffic. I also noticed many beautiful women standing by the roadside but they weren’t directing traffic. I dare say they were contributing to the traffic. They were all in mini skirts and they were night workers who were hoping that they could make it as post reception dessert for some big wig or Diplomat.

I drove past all the gleaming vehicles, found a place to park and took my prized invitation out of my glove compartment. I got out of the car, brushed my gown down and with invitation in hand walked towards the gate of the High Commissioners residence. At the gate a long line of gleaming vehicles were slowly disgorging their occupants. I made a mental note to ensure that I would get a driver and hopefully a nice long black car to bring me to the next event.

Wonders would never cease. I Kobina Ebo, from Breman Asikuma, in my flowing white gown, about to enter the residence of the British High Commissioner in Ghana

Placing value in and unlocking value from Ghanaian Citizens Part III

Every Ghanaian child is born with some value locked within him or her. We, collectively as the state and as society, are duty bound to realize the intrinsic value in every Ghanaian. We can do this by providing basic quality health infrastructure and care as well as basic quality education for each child. In our peculiar Ghanaian situation, basic school feeding has entered this picture and is a welcome addition. Once we realize the value of each individual in society, our actions, behavior and obligations will automatically reflect that fact.

The attitude and behavior of our bureaucrats, technocrats and politicians reflect the value that society in general and they in particular, place on Ghanaians. Time and again, in the area of education, they have demonstrated the difference in value that they subconsciously place on their progeny and on those of others. One will rarely see the progeny of officialdom attending the educational institutions that they prescribe for the populace in general. The progeny of officialdom attend the well-endowed and often private educational institutions whilst the rest of the public is left to make do with the oft less endowed and resourced state system.

Once a  child is born into our society and onto our soil, we the Ghanaian society, and by extension the state, has a duty to nurture and groom this child until a point where the child matures and value can begin to be unlocked from, or flow from, him or her. One of the first tasks the government has to perform, is that of recording the details relating to the birth of the child. These details should be captured by the health authorities who should have interacted with the pregnant mother and who should be involved with the birth process, or in situations where this is not possible, just after birth. Basically as soon as a child is born, there must be a comprehensive and biometric record of the child. And it must be constantly updated by the Educational and Health authorities as this child progresses through life.

Every  Ghanaian must be within a certain proximity to a health institution, in terms of distance and time. It has never failed to amaze me, how in the United Kingdom, ambulance services are within a certain distance and time of each British citizen. In situations where traffic might pose a problem, paramedics on motorcycles will weave through traffic to administer first aid to the injured until an ambulance makes it way to the scene.

In critical situations, helicopters exist to fly to the injured and whisk them to the hospital. From a Ghanaian perspective, where taxis are accepted as the means of transporting the injured to the hospital, and where ambulances are accepted as being the transport of choice for dead bodies to funerals and the graveyard, it seems like overkill, but from another perspective, this is the value that the British system places on each individual. Basically the British system places enough value on each individual to warrant the sort of expenditure it spends on ambulances, motorcycles and helicopters. We in Ghana have a similar duty to place a similar value on our citizenry and start structuring our society towards protecting citizenry with the above mentioned value.

To wrap up this discourse on the intrinsic value within Ghanaian citizens, from the top echelons of power all the way to the bottom, there must be a re-orientation of the collective mindset, laws and procedures of government from the status quo. We must treat every Ghanaian child and citizen as we would treat our own children or family members. It is not a waste of resources but an investment in the future of our country.

Placing value in and unlocking value from Ghanaian Citizens Part II

Two weeks ago, I was summoned to Breman Asikuma, to attend the 9^th Speech and Prize Giving day of Ave Maria School. As I sat through the ceremony and watched the kids execute their choreographed moves, I wondered how many of the girls would end up as maids in the leafy suburbs of Asikuma and how many of the boys would end up hawking goods on the streets or in the markets of Accra.

Parents bring their children into the world with so much hope for their future but our system gradually erodes that hope and replaces it with a defeated acceptance of the fact that their children did not break through the glass ceiling that exists here in Ghana. And the irony of that simply cannot escape me. To think that in our own beloved Ghana, a glass ceiling exists for a disadvantaged majority of our citizenry.

Even more ironic is the fact that the process of emigrating abroad, presents  a Ghanaian with a higher probability of succeeding in life and at best, breaking through the glass ceiling out there, or breaking through the glass ceiling back at home, at worst. Most Ghanaians will be in a position to recount a story, where a friend or relative, struggling to make ends meet here in Ghana, experiences a dramatic positive change in circumstances where lifestyle has been transformed beyond recognition.

So the million dollar question is, how do we place value in and on every Ghanaian? Simplistic as it sounds, we have to treat each Ghanaian the same way we treat children of Royalty or the President.

The process of placing value on the Ghanaian begins well before he or she is born. The appropriate Health infrastructure must be in place. Expectant mothers in the cities or towns should have access to Health Institutions. Ante-Natal medical examinations and classes should be made mandatory for every expectant mother and should be free on the National Health Service. Free because it is an investment in the individual that the government is making not a waste of scarce national resources.  Records should be kept for each mother and baby during the ante-natal period and these should be closely monitored by nurses and then further up the ladder, Doctors. Basically if anything is noticed that is not right, corrective action must be taken to ensure that the child emerges into this world with the best care and in good health. Advances in medicine means that most situations can be addressed.

For expectant mothers in the rural areas, medical staff can be equipped with the vehicles, motorcycles, boats and where applicable, aircraft to be able to reach out to the expectant mothers out in the inaccessible villages. It sounds preposterous initially but this is precisely the point I am making. If the daughter of the President found herself unwell and pregnant in an inaccessible village somewhere in the Afram Plains, It wouldn’t sound preposterous to employ the Airforce to retrieve her. It would be the right thing to do. This is because of the value we, as a society place on the daughter of the President.

Just as we would pull all stops to get the daughter of the President, out of that remote village in the Afram Plains and into the best possible medical care, we must place a similar value on each and every expectant Ghanaian woman. The moment we configure our collective mindset accordingly to accept that each Ghanaian mother has a value akin to that of a President’s daughter, we will be well on the way to the future development of our country

To be Continued . . . .

Placing value in and unlocking value from Ghanaian Citizens

No matter the circumstances into which every Ghanaian is born, he or she is born with greatness locked within him or her. It takes divine intervention and a sequence of events and circumstances to unlock the greatness from an individual. And anytime greatness is unlocked from an individual, our nation Ghana benefits.

Anytime I drive around my dear country Ghana, I look into the faces of the individuals I come across and wonder what greatness is locked within them. And I reflect on how far down the development path Ghana would have come, if we had been able to unlock even 10% of the greatness locked within Ghanaians.

Arguably one of the most influential Ghanaians ever born, Kwame Nkrumah started out as just another Ghanaian village kid. He was born in Nkroful, an obscure corner of Ghana. I use the word obscure because in the scheme of things in Ghana right now, Nkroful simply does not feature. There are so many people and kids in places like Nkroful, scattered throughout Ghana, who are living from hand to mouth, but each with potential nation changing greatness locked within them.

The thrust of this article basically is that the British colonialists assumed that each native ( as they referred to us ) had some value. Thus the system and framework they put in place, was geared towards unlocking  the value in each individual and allowing it to develop within the individual. This value or greatness as I call it, eventually had a positive multiplier effect  on the nation, especially when the individual became an adult.

The system put in place by the British, unlocked the potential and value in Kwame Nkrumah and enabled him to become the top student in his class. Kwame now baptized as Francis, was made a Pupil Teacher. In 1926, an Educationist Reverend A.G Fraser, impressed with Kwame Francis, recommended that he should go for further studies at the Accra Government Training College.  In 1928, Kwame Francis moved, to Prince of Wales College now Achimota School. Eventually he found his way to Lincoln University in the US and the rest is history.

Today, a century and millennium succeeding Nkrumah’s, does our Ghanaian system place an intrinsic value, on each and every Ghanaian. I don’t think so. I ask myself, how easy would it be, for any kid from Nkroful or my beloved Breman Asikuma, to make it through our educational system and eventually develop his or herself to the point where he or she can contribute to our country’s development?

If Kwame Nkrumah had been born in our times, there is a 80% probability that he would have ended up selling dog chains and Wrigley’s Chewing gum at a traffic light in Accra.  We would have been clamouring for them to be swept off the streets and back to the hinterland.

I have always wondered why so many Ghanaians don’t make it in Ghana but succeed the moment they leave our shores. Surely there must be something about Ghana that prevents them from realizing their full potential. Or conversely something about “abroad” that realizes the value in the individual and brings out the best in them. We have Ghanaians in the UN, NASA,Wall Street and the Square Mile to name a few. It is temptingly simplistic to assume that the more favourable economic circumstances prevailing  out there is the reason for their success.

But this is not the case. I will attempt to explain why next week.

Private Enterprise and Development in Ghana

I never dreamt that this day would come. I, Kobina Obu, sitting in Breman Asikuma, typing an article on my Blackberry and mailing it to my editor in time to meet a deadline. Wonders will never cease.

Yes, this article you read, was conceived, composed and emailed from deep within the forests of Breman Asikuma. The Breman Asikuma which until November 1996, did not even have electricity.

This weekend, my wife and I, were summoned to attend the 9th Speech and Prize giving day of the Ave Maria school in Breman Asikuma. Oh my commanding wife, in her capacity as an illustrious daughter of the town, was billed to deliver a keynote speech. So you can imagine the panic I felt, when at Gomoa Potsin, half way into the journey, I received a text message from my editor giving me up to 6pm, to submit my article. I had left my trusty laptop back in Accra. The only tools I had to meet that deadline were my Blackberry phone and the MTN service in Breman Asikuma. Private enterprise, with the able assistance of technology, had inadvertently, come to my rescue.

I can't help but recall the supposedly good old days, when the government tried to be omnipotent and omniscient, by being all things business, to all its citizens. Ghana Telecom, the sole provider of all Telecom services, struggled to provide the semblance of a telephony service, even to the capital city. My beloved Breman Asikuma, never had a fixed line service. Spacefon, now MTN, was the first provider of telephony services to this distinguished town of old.

Today, any Bremanese, with his brain and technology, can create value or knowledge, publish it and participate fully in the decentralized global economy. I could just as easily, have been submitting this article to the New York Times, the Washington Post or the Financial Times. From the forested depths of Breman Asikuma. We have come a long way.

This is why I have grudgingly come to the conclusion that, the goverment must gradually disengage itself from business and from providing services to its citizens for profit. Instead, the goverment should focus on creating the environment and framework within which private enterprise can take root and flourish, providing much needed services to the people of Ghana.

Grudgingly because, once upon a time, I was a proponent of the goverment being in business and providing much needed services to the people. But that will be the subject of or fodder for a debate or argument on the merits or otherwise of government involvement in business.

Just like my favorite pastime cooking, the development of a nation has a recipe and ingredients. One of the essential ingredients of development is private enterprise. Private enterprise is basically the God given ability to create value and provide services, usually locked and hidden away within individuals or groups of individuals. The government of Ghana, took the bold step of opening the Telecom sector to all qualified entrants in the 90's. Those of us, avowed Nkrumaists, watched with apprehension as supposed newbies and "greedy capitalists" set up shop and started providing services. Today we benefit from and see the long term benefits of these bold initiatives.

It used to be anathema to think about private companies building roads and charging us for their use. I hated to imagine the day when private companies would build, own and operate hospitals instead of the government. Now I look forward to the day when all this will become reality.

It is now drizzling lightly in Breman Asikuma. I have completed and reviewed my article. I will press a button and in less than 5 minutes, Patrick will receive my article and breathe a sigh of relief. That sigh of relief would trigger a series of bureaucratic processes which would ultimately culminate in a cheque.

I, Kobina Obu, would have created value.  From the forested depths of Breman Asikuma.

Long live private enterprise. Long live Ghana.

The Global Debt Discussion and Lessons for Ghana

One gray rainy evening in Breman Asikuma, I switched on the Akasanoma radio I inherited many years ago and tuned into this station broadcasting from Adabraka, managed by that dude from Ajumako.

The newscaster talked about the incredulous fight between the ruling Democrats and Republicans in the US. It reminded me so much about the fight’s we had right here in Ogyakrom between our parliamentarians. Here in Ghana, we tended to make statements to the effect that what happened here in Ghana would not happen in the United States or the United Kingdom. So wrong we are.

What were the Democrats and Republicans arguing about? America’s expenditure had been projected to exceed its income. America hitherto had solved the problem by borrowing money.  America now needed to borrow more to plug the fiscal hole in its budget. Just like Ghana.The Democrats favored borrowing more, the Republicans favored cost cutting to reduce or eliminate the hole in the budget. That was the fight.

Koo Krampah, my childhood pal and cocoa farmer, sitting right by me, asked what defaulting meant. I told him simply that to default meant that America owed some people and that it would not be able to pay them when the time came to pay them their money. “You mean Obama is going to do what Acheampong did some time back?” “Yen tua?” The irony of that hit me then. Funny how life imitates fiction.

It has become the norm in Ghana (and apparently globally) to run a budget deficit annually. In effect countries like Ghana and America, were mortgaging future income to satisfy present needs. And irrespective of how sanguine economists projections were, there would come a time, when the state of a countries economy would not permit the country to honor its debt obligations. And if a country like America could default, then surely so could Ghana .America would get away with a default but Ghana would not escaped unscathed.

The expected Oil income and HIPC (Highly Indebted Poor Country Initiative) have lulled our politicians into a false sense of security. It is tempting for them to think that in the future, income from oil could be leveraged to help settle our debt obligations. But a fact of life is that, as a countries incomes rises, so does its expenditure and its obligations.

Another bad case of indebtedness, Greece, also teetered recently on the verge of a default. But it was bailed out to the tune of $110 billion. We in Ghana should never dream of being bailed out by even 10% of that amount, should it ever come to that. And the restrictions and conditions that would accompany such a bailout could trigger unthinkable consequences in this country of ours.

Our Politicians should jettison fancy economic models and projections and return to good old common sense to reduce or eliminate our budget and secure the future of our country. In every budget with a deficit, there are areas of expenditure that can be eliminated. The government of Ghana is definitely not the most efficient and cost conscious of governments.

Acquisition of Government vehicles and consequent expenditure on fuel is one area that can be examined and sacrifices made to bring us closer to a balanced budget. Allowances and expenditure like free phone calls and travel abroad can also be pruned to help balance our budget.

I could go on and on but what would the point be? It would be naïve and utopian to think that those in government would sacrifice the comforts of their existence to ensure the future of their and our children.

We in Breman Asikuma can only live in hope

Ghana, a Card carrying nation II

Last week, I mentioned that the government must take the bold decision to consolidate at least the:

1.       National Health Insurance Card

2.       Biometric National ID Card

3.       Biometric Voters ID Card

into one card for the Ghanaian populace.

What sort of benefits can accrue from the consolidation of all these cards/functions into one multi purpose card?

Cost Effectiveness

As things stand, three (3 ) discrete government agencies, replete with staff, wage bills and IT infrastructure, administer each of these cards. All these can be replaced by a division within the Electoral Commission’s IT department. This division will be responsible for the rollout and administration of the multipurpose card. Significant cost savings can be realized from the consolidation of all these agencies into one.

Consolidation of Data

Significant information overlap exists between the various cards. Examples are Citizen Name, Address, Age, Sex and Biometric Information. Three government databases exist, containing basically the same information.

Once these cards are consolidated into one database, all government agencies can then be linked into this database to seek information on or additional information can be appended to each citizens data. For example when a citizen registers a new vehicle, the DVLA will log into the database and under the list of vehicles, add the registration number of the new vehicle.

If a traffic offence is committed by a citizen or he is involved in an accident, the police can call the government Call Centre and after giving the vehicle registration number, be given the name and address of the owner of the vehicle. The next time the citizen commits a traffic offence, the police can quickly call up his information from the government call centre and find out if he has committed a similar offence before or if the vehicle has been involved in an accident.

The Insurance industry could benefit from such a system. First of all they would not have to spend vast amounts creating their own databases of vehicles and accident reports. When a citizen goes to renew his car insurance, the Insurance company can quickly log into the government database and find out how many accidents the owner or his vehicle have been involved in. This can determine the discount that the owner of the vehicle receives.

From the Health perspective, if a citizen of the land is ill, all he has to do is to visit a Doctor or health facility and present his card. The Doctor can treat the individual and then update the medical records of the citizen at the government database. This means that a citizen can receive treatment from any government facility and his medical records are available to any health facility. This should also prevent nationals from neighbouring countries from taking advantage of our free health facilities.

Banks and financial institutions could also benefit from this database. Many citizens take loans from one bank and disappear into thin air. They then walk into another bank, create a track record and contract loans from the next bank. This state of affairs increase the risk in giving loans which translates into higher interest rates. When a customer opens an account with a bank, the bank can log into the government database with the customers biometric information and see if he has an outstanding debt with another bank..

VAT and Tax collection

Tax agencies can log into this government database and update the records of individuals and company directors with the status of their tax obligations. Many individuals owe the taxman but can import new vehicles and tender for government and private sector contracts. With such a database, Customs at the port will not only levy the requisite duties for the expensive vehicle imports, but would be able to seize the vehicle until outstanding tax liabilities elsewhere are settled