I didn’t know where we were going? I didn’t know what we were going to do. I’d no idea when we were coming back, but we kept going and going and going. We were eastbound from the capital Accra. It was a journey by road—an odyssey to a place where the ocean continues to mesh with the blue sky from a distance—the designer no doubt has the most impeccable style, unmatched and unparalleled.
Everything in the outer space looked incredibly beautiful. The blue sky looked bluish and the ocean even with its famed boisterous moves still possessed some semblance of tranquility. Perhaps it was a sign of welcoming us, a symbolic gesture.
Folks if you didn’t know this be informed that the ocean rages not because she wants to or likes to be noisy, but because of the toxic/waste we stubbornly dump into her almost every day. As we neared the coastline we could hear her roaring like an angry lion. I thought she’d been choked –hold by somebody or something. Her eyes popping like an owl’s and the temple vein throbbing like ‘Fontonfrom’. Soon she would spew some of the contaminated materials at the shoreline.
She looked sick and tired! Tired of our careless and thoughtless attitude, we’re so rude and still refuse to accept the fact that we’re the cause of our woes. We’re our own Judases. We’re ‘Thomases’ living in self-denial, licking our own wounds.
It seemed we were not getting there. But where was there and what at all were we going there to do? I still haven’t told you who I was travelling with right? I haven’t told you where we’re heading to and what we were going to do?
Hold your thought. I thought we were going to fly. He won the speed bird trophy or prize during his cadet training with the Ghana Airforce.
“Nope Akwasi we’re not flying,” he told me.
“I want you to see the roads to ‘the ‘World Bank’ yourself.”
I laughed hysterically; I knew what he meant.
“They think they’re covered, let them tickle themselves till there’s power shift. The cats are away so let the mice play. But I know it won’t be long.”
I didn’t know we both shared a common name. He’s Kwashie (that means he’s from the Volta region). I am Kwesi or Akwasi or Kwasi (among the Akans)! It’s a special name designed by tribal contours, but it fits everywhere like noses, they fit every face—ugly, beautiful, attractive, pleasant, you name it.
My host had still not told me where we were going, so I kept guessing and guessing. Midway I felt troubled like biblical Isaac following his papa Abraham to the mountains…
Is it Keta or Denu?
“Nope,” he said. Is it Adafianu or Afiadenyiba?
“Keep guessing,” he told me.
A few miles to our destination I sensed we were almost there. The sound of the drums were so loud traveling across boundaries—towns nearby and those far away could feel the vibration. It was a colourful ceremony. A new chief had been installed. A new name had been given.
Former president Jerry John Rawlings has been installed as chief of Anlo State in the Volta region. His stool name is Togbui Nutifafa Fiaga {Peace Chief}.
This is in recognition of his lead role in fostering peace and stability in Ghana, according to the traditional rulers in the Anlo State.
Shortly after the ceremony I turned to him and remarked, Mr. President I now understand why you brought me here. I was troubled, I must confess. I didn’t know what was going on… I knew it wasn’t going to be another coup but I still felt disoriented. Anyway, I like your new name. It sounds powerful!
What a beautiful place, what a beautiful people and what a beautiful culture. I’d good food and good stuff. In the meantime, my intrepid eyes panned from left to right trying to capture everything and anything that crossed their paths.
Okay should I say Mr. President or Togbui, which one do you prefer?
“I suggest you use both interchangeably,”
That was a smart answer Mr. President.
May I ask you, in what capacity did you lash out at the west?
“As state’s man,” he replied.
Mr. President you said corruption cannot be controlled in a democratic state, what did you mean by that?
“I have stated on several platforms that we adopted the language of the West without its integrity We have used the English language as a symbol of authority and power but not as a symbol of respect and integrity. In the same vein we have adopted democracy from the textbook without recognisng and appreciating the intrinsic values of democracy in our own culture.”
The West today is getting a taste of the weaknesses of multi -party democracy that we have to put up with in our part of the world. While our old traditional culture of democracy was able to contain such weaknesses, the Western multi-party democratic practice appears almost incapable of containing corruption in its various forms.”
Gotcha Mr. President, it was refreshing talking with you. And I wish you god speed in your new position and all your endeavours.
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