l usually don’t chat on group WhatsApp platforms. But yesterday, l had the pleasure of exerting epistemic madness on two professors.

After all said and done, wisdom prevailed that we should suspend the needless, uninformed comparison between Ghana and the late industrialized nations – the Asian Tigers.

I graciously succeeded in convincing my interlocutors that the problem of Ghana and the world isn’t technical (how answers), but adaptive (why answers).

After politics suffocates the nation, splitting us into needless tribalistic pieces, l relax with the sagacity of the sages on GBC every Friday.

I pray that, as a nation, we will take a break, see the ontological nobility of the other and polish the pearls of ancient wisdom to advance human flourishing.

My readings allow me to surmise that the world has progressed technologically in a manner that is unprecedented.

Similarly, we have retrogressed morally in breaking all ethical and ontological boundaries.

The above antinomy is precise because, whereas the “why” endless questions were anterior to the “how” pragmatic answers, the inverse of the two has been the aporia of human civilization.

Whenever l read the Bible, especially the Egyptian enslavement of the Israelites, l see the wisdom in enslavement for building in us, resilience and empathy.

No wonder, God’s major concern wasn’t about the “how” progress of the Israelites, but the “why” issues of their civilization (cf. Deuteronomy 8).

If l were a leader, l will cut down all needless and pretentious democratic and political shows by 90 percent.

The too-knowing and half-baked, partisan journalists are sinking the nation.

Similarly, comprador civil society groups keep trading Ghana cheaply, keeping the nation in the orbit of perpetual recolonization.

In replacement, l will assemble young men and women to dialogue with the older generation to take Ghana from our between and betwixt state to the next level.

At least, in my home, no politics. No anxieties about material things.

We hold the philosophy that when one shares power, one loses influence. When one shares the wealth, one loses worth. But when one share love, one receives life.

Enough of the needless partisan politics. Let’s reinstate wisdom and sanity in the public sphere.

The noise is too much, no wonder logic runs in the reverse in the public sphere.

Kasa no adoo so. Maganganu yaa ya wa mu na.

Satyagraha

Prempeh Charles

The Ghanaian populace will soon be bedridden with what seem a national canker which has gradually eaten into the minds of people. Every Ghanaian in one way or the other has been affected by this canker-FEAR, from students to workers, traders, politicians, mad men, the aged, the young, sick, down to the little child.

Fear which is known to kill champions before their time, has spread its malicious tentacles across the breadth of the country. Harboring fear leads to some form of stress, which can cause depletion of the immune system, errors in judgement and can even prevent one form making reasonable decisions. Fear leads to the loss of confidence, fatigue, anger explosions and sometimes stomach upsets.

AMONG STUDENTS

Students studying in schools to become the leaders of our motherland harbor in them the fear of failing their examinations. Right from the word go, students have been raised to fear exams and hate the very word with all their might and with all their hearts. Beginning for their “first world war”-Basic Education Certificate Examination (B.E.C.E) to the so called the almighty West African Senior Secondary Examination (WASSCE) to the End of Semester Examinations in the Tertiary level, students face these requisite exams with fear, ample enough to kill a giant, in their hearts. Little wonder yearly results of students’ exams come with many surprises.

AMONG CHILDREN

Children in their development stage become very curious and tend to ask a host of rhetorical questions, some answerable, others simply unthinkable. In bid to escape the barrage of questions and non-existing answers children expect their parents, teachers and guardians to conjure for them after each round of their “curious endeavours” parents, teachers and guardians tend to formulate weird superstitious tales, to scare the little ones rather than educate them. Among these many tales are stories of Ghosts appearing in the night to catch children who refused to sleep early enough, stop talking or refuse to bath, Stories of dwarfs, witchcraft and wizardry.

The amazing thing is that these children grow with the fear of these non-existing phenomena glued to their thoughts and transfer it, like a contagious disease, to the next generation.

AMONG THEIST

The doctrines of the two populous religions in Ghana-Christianity and Islam, imbibe in their members the belief in a final day of Judgement, where the Almighty God will replay to mankind all of his activities on earth. The Judgement per the indoctrination of the religions of Islam and Christianity, will see some men taken to Heaven and others cast into hell, an abode of ever burning fire and perpetual suffering.

The fear of being cast into hell or Janam’ah (as described referred to by Muslims) appears be a sort of headache for some religious folks as it has been described to be the worst ever place ever imagined. Residents of hell will be plagued with thirst and unimaginable diseases, as narrated in one bible story.

This stories when rehearsed creates fear in the hearts of the theist.

AMONG WORKERS

The fear of being sacked and losing one’s job is an ingrowth that has eaten deep into the minds of Ghanaian workers. Daily, under the guise of pleasing their bosses and a lukewarm way of securing their jobs, workers join long winding queues in lorry stations or join the struggle for bus to their destination. A minute’s lateness would find one smiling on the wrong side of his or her mouth. With the current state monetary affairs in the country you better not lose your job.

It’s a different story, however, when it comes to output of production.

AMONG TRAVELLERS

Accidents have become rampant in the few months in this New Year. The latest one claiming about 6lives on the Takoradi-Winneba road.

Travelers now fear for their lives, as they have little control of happenings on their way as they travel.

AMONG POLITICIANS

It is election year and one of the common seasonal fears is one notable among political figures. The fear of losing election. I bet you don’t want to experience this sort of fear. It capable of killing a fully matured lion and making one’s hair turn grey in a twinkle of an eye.

The latest fear of all is the fear of terrorist attack.

Written by Edwin Abanga – 0249475585 (Student Journalist)

A group of children huddled together in a circle, in the middle of the untarred road clapping and slapping their bare hands over their thighs as they sang their hearts out merrily and played;
“bam bambambalika

baaambaambambaalika

bambaambambalika,
have you seen your friend

shakeyshakey shake your body,

shakeyshakey shake your body,

shakeyshakey shake your body have you seen your friend”.

The younger kids who were not allowed to join the park for the sheer childhood reason of being “underage” satisfied themselves by dividing themselves into two different groups and played “Police and Thief”. Each player secured a stalk from a pawpaw tree, broke awake the leafy end and used it as a Pump Action gun affectionately called “Kafungbe” among the kids. The better skilled kids divided the stalk into several uneven parts and joined them together by inserting broomsticks into them; it was done so dexterously that it easily passed for a pistol.
Though there were little less than fifteen children in all, the noise they made out of their sheer ecstasy was as thunderous as that of a hundred kids.
Kwabena Kwakye, the only albino in the park, was unfortunately the most teased kid. He was teasingly called “anopasaman” which meant, “ghost of the morning”. He joined his peers in playing “Police and Thief” but he was the worst player in the “Thief group”. His light skin color always betrayed his tactics; he was easily spotted from far, arrested and put in an imaginary prison. Among the lot, Boi bi Boi was the most annoying; he would often run home and get everybody searching till night came, only to be found eating in his mother’s kitchen. The kids, boys and girls alike, will come together after supper in what was like their “court” and discuss what happened at school and whose teacher was the wicked and talk about all the childhood fantasies. Often times they unanimously agree to suspend Boi bi Boi from the play group for ruining their fun but that little chubby boy always found his way back into the play group, especially when he came around with his black and white case five football.

The children played, except Abdul-Jaleel. He was seated at one corner with his chin cupped in his palm. He was a very lively lad and was always found in the playgroup so it was strange to find Abdul-Jaleel sitting alone like he did today. His face looked pale and very unhappy. Kwabena Kwakye was the first to notice Abdul-Jaleel.
“Why are you not playing Jaleel?” he asked.
“I don’t feel like playing” was the curt response.
“But why?” he asked again.
“Kwakye koraa I am hungry don’t disturb me aah!”
“Why don’t you tell your Mom you are hungry, have you done something wrong at home?” Kwakye asked again.
Kwabena Kwakye was a very warm lad and fond of asking many questions like the rest of his play mates, wanting to find the “why” and “what” of everything he came across.
“If I were you, Kwakye added, I would ask Auntie Yaa for Gari and soak it and drink”
Abdul-Jaleel shot a quick look at Kwakye like he had given him the answer to Hercules’ riddle. He got up and run to Auntie Yaa, the old lady who runs the grocery store. She was so loving and gave to the kids so freely, they all loved her, not just for the gifts but for also saving them anytime they run into some trouble and were to be beaten at home. She was their source of  “salvation “.
Abdul Jaleel knew it was the month of Ramadan and was not supposed to be eating until noon as his father had instructed but he just couldn’t stand the desire to taste food not to mention the pangs of hunger that drummed in his belly. Abdul-Jaleel’s father had resorted to having him fast up to noon because of his age but that mischievous little boy had his own way outside the home.
He got what he wanted from Auntie Yaa who added some sugar and groundnut to accompany the mixture. “You will not be part of this year’s Salah celebration, Jaleel”, Auntie Yaa warned teasingly. But Jaleel was way gone with the Gari soakings, he knew he was safe so long as nobody reported to his Mom or Dad, he only had to tell a white lie and he would be gone with it.
“I feel good!” he jumped up after finishing the giant cup of Gari soakings. Auntie Yaa smiled as he watched the young lad, it gave her joy to see little children beam with happiness. Jaleel run off quickly to join the rest of his friend on the street to play. Those were the good old days.

Written by Edwin Abanga, 0249475585 (student journalist)