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.