He heard the ding dong, ran to the door. It was Uncle Johnson the postmaster, he comes twice every day to deliver mails to the Andersons. He’d to beat a bleeding traffic on the Accra-Tema motorway also known as the N1 to make it to their residence at Hatso about 5:30 in the evening.
There was a priority mail that needed a signature. And the sight of it lit the face of Maibey the third son of the Andersons. But that mail didn’t come close to his expectation. In a fleeting his beautiful smile would disappear and his whole frame swaddled with disappointment.
Once again his hopes had been dashed, shattered like a glass tossed from a thirty-floor building. The 24-year-old university graduate had been hunting for jobs almost three years after graduation. He’d more than 200 applications spread across the country and had attended about 50 interviews but still not landed on a job.
And it appeared each passing day dropped a bombshell!
Earlier in the day at midday Uncle Johnson dropped utility bills— water and electricity. No one in the household bothered to open it, let alone know how much they owed the power company–GRIDCO.
Why? They’d been out of power for two months. Actually, the area they lived had been christened ‘Dumsorland, ’don’t mistake it for Deutschland. The water problem was perhaps worse. When they’d it, it dripped like the fowl’s urine.
Life was too tough for the family. Mr. Johnson’s wife Mrs. Johnson was a hairdresser. Imagine. Just imagine in ‘Dumsorland’ when power comes it doesn’t stay for six hours and it doesn’t return for weeks when it goes away.
Even at the ministries (the bastion of government infrastructures) where Mr. Johnson worked as a principal secretary they couldn’t avoid the drudgery of Dumsor. The menace was all over flaunting her shady shaky frame—closing down small businesses and the big ones peppered.
“Glad to see you Uncle. Anything for me?” asked Maibey.
“Not really, but I think I’ve got a bunch of newspapers .The rest I will call them junk mails.” replied Uncle Johnson.
“Oh my gosh!”
“What’s going on with this system?
If you’re unemployed the excuse is that because you have no education. If you have education they say you should’ve studied computer science or business administration or land economy and the list goes on. If you’d computer science or either one you’re told they’re looking for someone with five years’ experience and if you beat that hurdle they’d tell you we need guys with master’s degree and all the highest degrees.
The Johnsons shared similar story. They’d two university graduates (adults, unemployed) still living with their parents. Akwasi and Kukua often told their friends jokingly that they worked at the Ministry of Works and Housing—meaning they’re ‘stayed-home’ guys.
It was this kind of lifestyle after college education coupled with the sheer display of opulence by politicians in our part of the world that made Maibey to utter the following statement during a family gathering, courtesy of social media.
“When we were growing up, they used to tell us that education is the key to success, now we have that key, only to find out that the politicians have changed the padlock,”
Sounds paradox? But Maibey was right the guys have changed the padlock.
To get it unlocked I think one has to join the symphony orchestra group i.e. the nepotism and the cronyism club. It is basically, who you know and not what qualification one has.
See, Maibey loved sarcasm and he knew when and how to use them. He cracked everyone up. But his statement was pregnant with nuggets. As they continued to chit chat he saw some politicians flitting around like silly pigeons.
Some had their errand boys carried umbrellas over their heads in the midst of downpour. There were some distributing monies to registered voters. There were also some that decided to braid hairs in a way of buying votes. And there were still some who chose to become chefs in a spell of moment. Cooking banku, pounding fufu and dancing to tunes they’ve never known nor heard from Adam.
Indeed, this is what we call ‘Politricks.’
US state of New Hampshire has something that probably people in Big Apple (New York City) envy. The state is well-known for its retail politics. And people in the Granite state during political campaign seasons get to see politicians across the nation jockey the length and breadth of the state kissing the babies, visiting homes, handshaking, some making kids to mention the unmentionables and so on and so forth.
It’s a tradition New Hampshirites wouldn’t trade for anything and for that matter wouldn’t share with anybody.
Today, it seems politicians in Ghana have put that in a high gear, rivalling New Hampshire for this traditional ethos.
Is Education still the key to Success?
Maibey and many believe it is this new brigade of politicians that have choked hold our educational system. It is suffering from asphyxia or asphyxiation.
No doubt, education is the key to success because it opens doors for people of all backgrounds and it expands the human mind with knowledge. The vast amount of knowledge gained through education prepares individuals to solve problems, teach others, function at higher level and implement transformational ideas. Without education, one’s chance for securing a good job and ascending to a higher economic and social status are often limited.
In Toni CadeBambara’s short story, “The Lesson’, the single unifying fact is exploring life outside of your own realm of knowledge is the key to success. This has proven to be true when Miss Moore took the children of her class to see a way of life they have never known to exist.
Miss Moore taught the group of children the basic principles and values of life each day as well as the other characteristics of an education…When the children returned to their destination; they tasted the first display of how exploring life outside one’s own realm of knowledge is the key success.
Education gives people tools, skills and knowledge needed to survive. So my plea to our politicians and I mean all of our politicians, let’s not line our pockets with the state’s funds to deny our children’s children their birth right. And please don’t change the padlock.
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