When The Incompetent Calls The Competent ‘Incompetent’

‘Competence’ isn’t necessarily a new word to us, is it? But you’ll agree with me that it has gained currency in our political landscape over the last couple of weeks. It started when Dr. Mahamadu Bawumia, the vice presidential candidate of the NPP threw the first salvo after the 2016 budget presentation. And quite expectedly, the President responded when he addressed his teeming supporters at the Trade Fair Centre during the round-up of the NDC’s Greater Accra tour. A colleague claims he saw me smirk anytime the issue was being discussed on radio, and quite frankly, I was amused at the brouhaha. Depending on where your allegiance lies, it is a case of the proverbial pot calling the kettle black, hence the title of this piece. Who is the pot? Who is the kettle? You’ll soon find out as I share my musings in the next few paragraphs.

Venire…Videre…Vincere

ECG did its ‘thing’. The radio went off. Power was restored but not through the radio and no one seemed to realize. I feigned inattentiveness when a colleague asked me to put on the radio as the office was all quiet and uninteresting. I reluctantly stretched my hand to hit the switch button when he made the call again after about a minute later, and heard Dr Mensa Otabil at his usual best, teaching the Word of God. If I had heeded my colleague’s earlier call, I’m sure I would have caught the title of his teaching. Blame inertia.

It's Not As Great As You Think!

The line was terrible. I could hardly hear what he was saying but I could sense excitement in our network-induced breaking chat. So I called back and he delivered the good news, this time, hitch-free. His employer had agreed to sponsor his postgraduate education at Birmingham City University (BCU) in the UK – what he’d being praying about for quite some time. I was so happy for my childhood bosom friend. This was his third time of being admitted to the same institution to pursue a master’s programme in finance albeit his inability in securing funding in his first two attempts.  So for his employer to come to his aid meant the world to him – even more important than his salvation at that point in time [exaggeration mine]. This was in mid-July and the academic year was to start in September.

A Hypocritical Citizenry

I had to squint just to be sure I was reading right. I put the other pillow behind me so I don’t hurt my back as I sat up from my bed. ‘Twas ace investigative journalist, Anas Aremeyaw Anas’s latest exposé on the extent of rot in the third arm of government – the judiciary. Come on, we all knew that some judges were corrupt but what we lacked was what Anas has provided – evidence, and it was mind-blowing. Four senior legal practitioners a couple of years back alluded to the existence of the canker permeating the corridors of those who play God here on earth. No evidence was provided, well so we thought until Abraham Amaliba averred that two of the judges were axed from their posts after their allegation. Why that wasn’t topical, I can’t hazard a guess. Again, if indeed those allegations turned out to be true, why weren’t the culprits prosecuted and made to sleep in the same cells as those they sentenced there? But hey, this is Ghana where money talks and crap walks. 

They Want A Slice Of The Cake…Shall We Give Them? (Part 2)

Pressure has been mounting on me to share the second part of my musing apropos the impasse by our doctors. I shared the first part a fortnight ago, and the emails and social media messages haven’t ceased since. Only a couple of days ago, an avid reader of my articles sent me this: “Boss, I’m still waiting to read what you have to say about the government, as promised oo”. Frankly, as the days went on, I had resolved not to write the sequel, but rather revert to my aim of ‘motivating’, ‘inspiring’ and ‘challenging’ my fellow mortals with my articles. But I figured it’s the constant ‘k’ in a linear equation – correcting social vices, and aim to make us see reason to want to brighten ever corner we find ourselves. So yes, this is a sequel to the earlier one, and it’s not just the government I’m going to write about but the doctors as well – again! Let’s go.

They Want A Slice of The Cake....Shall We Give Them?

News of the Ghana Medical Association’s (GMA) withdrawal of OPD services and subsequently, emergency services gained currency last week. Almost every media organization carried it in their various news bulletins, and it was impossible to miss it on social media idea as well. There was even a debate on it in my office the other day. I resolved not to share any musings to the public on this subject. But I still jotted down points as and when they flooded my mind, just in case I needed to invade the public space in the unlikely event I switched lanes. In fact, I did just that – switched lanes! So let’s go….

Did I Hear You Say Racism???

“It’s me and my nation against the world,

Then me and my clan against the nation,

Then me and my fam’ against the clan,

Then me and my brother, with no hesitation,

Go against the fam’ until they cave in!

Now who’s left in this deadly equation?

That’s right it’s me against my brother.

Then we point a Kalashnikov (rifle) and kill one another.”

The opening gambit is contained in the Somalia-born 2010 world cup theme song composer, K’Naan’s verse when he was featured on Tribes At War, Nas’ and Damien Marley’s collaborative piece. A friend gave me the whole album to soak when I mentioned my theme for my next article after Holes on the inside was posted, and I couldn’t be more appreciative for that kind gesture. Let me go straight to my theme without my usual dilly-dallying.

Holes On The Inside

 

Have you ever been inside the very imposing edifice that houses the Holy Spirit Cathedral at Asylum Down?  As a congregant, a guest at a wedding, a mourner at a loved one’s passing, a passerby who occasionally goes there to commune with his Maker at noon? No? Never? Well, I’ll ask you to pay a visit to the cathedral where the very affable, soft spoken Archbishop Palmer-Buckle serves the Lord’s Supper every Sunday when he’s not engaged elsewhere.

By The Riverside...

So I decided to find a cool spot outside the beautiful Holy Trinity Spa scenery where I could read and reflect on my life. I had found my way to a very quiet location in the vicinity, and was sitting on a chair on a concrete extension into the Volta Lake. My small head was deeply buried in Louis L’Amour’s Last Of The Breed, and was oblivious of the goings on around me. After about 10 minutes of reading and just when I was about flipping a page, I heard what seemed to be laughter not far from where I was. I looked up and saw what I had only been seeing on television screens - 7 boys ranging between the ages of 9 and 12 happily taking a swim in the river full of algae, with some swimming butt-naked.

Watch It!

I wasn’t angry – I was outraged! Now you do realize that the latter is a highly graduated form of the former, don’t you? Well, my definition.

It was one of those days where the weather was dry coupled with the fact that the office has no window, so it’s an air-conditioner-throughout one. This was a terrible combination of situations particularly when deadlines had to be met too. Happenstances like these usually aren’t harbingers of hunger for me, and eventually when it came at about 3.00 pm it did so with some mighty oomph – the ‘get-up-and-go’ kind.

You Are No God!

Have you ever been in a meeting where a suggestion by another received thumbs up from almost all participants, and you thought that same idea was dumb but unable to profer yours, perhaps a better idea due to your inability to express yourself better in public? Well, I have sat through several of those meetings where I was unable to utter a word.

May I Reminisce?

I usually would walk with my older colleagues to Kwame Nkrumah Circle, discussing football, politics, women, and any other topic a group of twenty-something year old lads talked about whenever they congregated. And when we got there, we jumped into waiting ‘trotros’ or joined long and winding queues. But not on this day – nay! They would tease the living daylight out of me. So I dashed out of the class immediately the lecturer dropped his black marker and duster. “No time for imbecilities!”…as Asempa FM’s Songo usually blurts when incensed about the goings-on at the GFA. Reason? I had had a very terrible day in class, ‘bombing’ an impromptu company law quiz – one I wasn’t prepared for.

The Seed....

 “When is your next ‘motivational’ piece going up on your blog?” I have had to cleverly dodge this question anytime I’m asked since ‘Who Are You?’ was posted in November last year. I always changed the subject when a reader bothered to find out. But one avid reader of my posts beat me to my game and ‘extorted’ an answer from me. And when I told him I was on a short break, he minced no words in telling me “it’s a sign of failure”. He went on to tell me why he thought so, but I won’t bore you with that. Initially, I thought he was jesting, but I was mistaken when I saw no smile form on his face. Honestly, I felt lethargic writing anything after that piece as I hadn’t been ‘motivated’ by any circumstance…absolutely nothing. But his advice kept sounding in my ears each time I saw him. And I said a silent prayer to God to give me something to write about, like I usually do after every piece I write.

That motivation didn’t come when I expected it. Well, maybe it did but I wasn’t giving situations around me the necessary attention they deserved then. I had arrived home from work one evening and went straight for the remote control to catch an EPL game. I hit the wrong button which took me to CCTVD where a documentary on Chinese bamboo was showing. Even though the EPL game had started about 15 minutes before I got home, I decided to spare some few minutes and watch that documentary. I was blown away by what I gathered that evening, and I’ll endeavour to share my very short musings with you in the next few sentences.

Can Ghana Ever Develop?

A year ago, I lost my sweet octogenarian grandmother to medical negligence; a term that has gained currency in our beloved country due to the many instances where rather preventable deaths otherwise lead people to their graves at the instance of health practitioners. I also lost a sister from another mother just when we were preparing to ‘Cross Over’ into 2015. She’d just delivered a bouncy baby boy the natural way than she started complaining of stomach ache. That was all!

Anyway, so we held Maame Efua Ansaba’s first anniversary earlier in the month. Due to pressure emanating from different quarters, I celebrated her with a rather unkempt hair. So on the Sunday of the celebration, I visited my most trusted barber after the memorial and thanksgiving service, for a trim. Upon reaching the salon, I met two childhood friends of mine waiting their turn to trim theirs too.

About 15 minutes into our conversation, one asked the other: “So can Ghana ever develop?” My eyes and ears were fixated on my other friend to hear what he had to say. “Kai…for the where? The individuals dey develop, but the nation di33...Yaa Mutu!”, was his response. I couldn’t stop laughing. On my way back to the reception grounds after I’d had my hair cut, I was still thinking about that response, trying to ascertain its veracity or otherwise. Dear readers, I readily concurred after about a minute or so, and I’ll tell you why.