My name is Latif Iddrisu and I am a journalist with The Multimedia Group. What you would read here is my near death experience some few weeks ago. It has been a long time coming but I believe the time is right to share my story with you.
I was under the weather on that Tuesday so a doctor signed an off-duty form for me, a form which was subsequently endorsed by my supervisor. So I was recuperating at home on Thursday when my phone rang. It was a source who gave me a tip about a joint police-military operation that will take place in the poverty-stricken community of Asamama.
This same source had called two weeks earlier to inform me about how illegal miners are shipping into their community where Chinese made sophisticated mining equipment used on a river and other water bodies; a development that would completely destroy the already polluted water bodies in the area.
The initial call was for me to come and investigate and expose the cartel; something I was willing to do but logistics were not readily available at the time so it was put on hold.
The situation took a worrying turn so the source together with like-minded natives went all the way to meet with the Eastern Regional police commander who agreed to sanction an operation; anti-galamsey and there was a plan. That plan definitely didn’t include killing the youth who have over the years engaged in the illegal act of mining for gold in the community.
It also certainly didn’t include terrorising the young and the old men of the community. What was emphatic as far as the operation was concerned, was to confiscate the ‘chamfine’ machines, and also bring the miners to justice after picking them up at the many mine sites.
But from what I witnessed, for reasons best known to the men in black who were deployed, they crossed the line that was drawn by the Eastern Regional Security Council on Thursday when they shot and killed the miners.
Thursday the 17th day of November 2016 started as a normal day in the Eastern regional town of Asamama in the Atiwa District of the Eastern region.
The cosmopolitan town has recently come under siege from small scale miners who have found yet another safe haven in the community after causing near the irreparable damage to the other communities blessed with the natural resources that have arguably been a curse to the communities where nature started the valuable mineral.
Until the influx of the small scale miners, the people of Asamama, Okoro, Kyebi and were mainly into the cultivation of cocoa on a commercial scale but now they throw their hands in despair because the lands are no longer viable for even weeds to grow leisurely on.
The unfortunate phenomenon has over the years stirred huge public outcry especially whenever a journalist goes to one of the many mining towns to interrogate and bring to the fore the grim development being supervised in the various Assemblies dotted across the ten regions of the country.
It appears government is now listening to the public outcry to clamp down on the decades-old illegality that has taken away the livelihoods of many cocoa farmers, polluted water bodies, and also defeating the mediocre steps the state has taken over the past decades to fight the worrying issue of global warming.
Fast forward to Thursday the 17th day of November 2016 and how the police shot and killed small scale miners. I got to the Asamama township at about 11:45 a.m and as tradition demands in Ghana, my first port of call was the palace of the queen mother of the locality.
About four minutes into our conversation a male adult in a dirty jeans trousers with wretchedly looking Chelsea jersey rushed into the palace; ending the deliberation we were having abruptly. The man who at this point was panting so profusely managed to say “the police are here in their numbers”.
At this point, the queen mother and the elders who sat in the meeting vanished before I could say jack, so I had to find my way out. I got out and to my surprise, my camera technician and the driver were nowhere to be found. I combed the town from the north, west east and south but couldn’t find them.
The two had run for cover. I persisted and after about 45 minutes found the car in a parked in a bush somewhere. My camera technician at the time had abandoned the front seat he always fights for, and was seeking refuge in the bush leaving the driver alone in the car. I had to add my drivers’ phone to mine for backup since my camera technician has vanished with the camera, which by the way I couldn’t operate into the bush.
Walking back to the mining site where the gun battle was unfolding, a voice, which I now know was divine, told me to remove a jacket I wore on top of my Lacoste, which I obliged. With that jacket which looked like a body armor, the miners were referring to me as ‘Abane’, which means police in our local parlance.
That was when I went combing the community to look for my camera technician for us to get to work. With hindsight, I’ll say that if I hadn’t obliged to the divine voice I would have been lynched. Walking about a kilometer after removing the jacket and pushing it in my pant, I heard the gun battle has resulted in the death of a miner.
All these while I was filming the chase scene with both phones, one for videos and the other for still pictures. But I love stand ups so I decided to do one about fifty meters from where the gun battle was unfolding. How stupid I was…so I approached one of the agitated miners and asked that he becomes my camera technician for a minute since my original technician was missing in action.
Then in an angry tone this young man, who I can confidently say is about five years younger my age shouted “who are you and where are you coming from? Before I could say, Jack, he landed the first punch and plethora of other punches and slaps followed.
They strangled me in the process and after one of them had hit me in the thigh with a stick he was holding came the most horrifying moment of all; a scene that keeps playing in my mind even as I try to type what you are reading now.
A young man whose appearance gives him out as a problematic drug user, after a hot slap placed a machete he was holding on my head, and with infuriated eyes, he asked, “are you on our side or with the police?” You now understand why I was grateful for the divine grace which commanded me to remove the jacket I had on.
So in the most humble manner, I can ever be, I responded, “Oh my brother, you know I’m with you that is why I’m here to help stop what the police is doing to you. I’m always on the side of the people”.
Looking into his eyes I saw an angry man ready to slash my head into two.
There was a pause of about 10 seconds after my humble answer to his question and within that 10 seconds I did just one thing; I prayed to God to forgive me all my sins. I saw Malaika Maut (the angel of death) coming to take my life. After the most difficult ten seconds ever in my life, the young man who later granted me an interview, asked me again in Ewe, “Are you a Ewe?” and I responded in the affirmative in Ewe.
It was there and then that he ordered the two who had strangled me for about five minutes to release me and he subsequently dropped the machete he had and asked that my phone be given back to me.
The guy who had my phones was reluctant to hand over the phone and I was so stupid that I pursued until reluctantly the guy handed the phones over to me and roughed me away from the scene.
All this while the gun battle between the police and the miners was ongoing just few meters away. After experiencing my worst nightmare, I yet again asked one of my foes to take a video of me doing the stand-up, this time around he did! But it wasn’t long before the police moved from the jungle to bring the fight to hundreds of miners outside. We had to run for our lives because bullets were flying all over.
The gun battle left not less than two dead at the time injuring many others. In the main town, the terrified natives had to rush to their rooms. The market women had no option but abandoned their businesses and run for their lives. After suffering one ordeal in the hands of the miners, one of the men in black who saw me pacing to look for my car pointed his gun at me and like the miner who had the machete in my head, the police officer shouted “who the hell are you!?.
Then a colleague of his who I had introduced myself to him earlier asked him to “stop!. It is true he is a journalist”. The officer with his gun still pointed at me the shouted, “vanish!”. I kept walking away to nowhere, watching over my shoulders even as I walked away so I don’t end up with bullets in my back, because at the time, my driver and camera technician were nowhere to be found. I left the presence of the Police as terrified as I was when the miners pounced on me with their clubs, cudgels, and machetes.
Then walking away, I heard one of the officers issue a very loud order; “whoever will step out of his house shoot him”.
With that command, a curfew had taken effect in the Asamama township. I doubt the Eastern Regional security council ordered the men in black to do that. After dismantling the several roadblocks mounted by the angry youth on the roads, they left the town.
The men who were dispatched to go and maintaining law and order left those who survived in grief and terrified.
What happens next Inspector General of the Ghana Police Service, John Kudaloh?
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