The doomwatcher's almanac

So, I was having a random chat with Ringo, the other day, and we came up with some interesting observations about people and society which I would gladly share with you in a jiffy. But before I indulge you further I think it is expedient to introduce you, my dear reader, to Ringo; my imaginary friend who is always there when I need to dilate on issues.  And just before you go off the tangent that Mynah - the talking bird, is at it again, I would like to preempt your mind that, unlike you, who doesn’t have the time when I am ready to engage, Ringo is always there to interact.

 

It’s funny how most people think they are the last link in the human chain, thus placing too much

importance on themselves or even on their watch. For a moment, we become susceptible to all kinds of hogwash, making us believe we are at the tail end of the world and by extension the end of human history. Is it not interesting when some folks express their disgust about how the world has or is coming to an end when bad and turbulent times come around? 

Conclusively, some will die en masse every time a catastrophe befalls us which doesn’t mean that the world has come to an end. No! The world survived the holocaust; it even survived the great flood that saw only a handful survive, so what more can come? At most, you might fall a victim directly or indirectly but come tomorrow, the sun will still rise from the East and set in the West. People will work, eat, merry and have sex to procreate, except you, who would have become a part of the statistics, which is sometimes exaggerated for future generations to read, thanks to Historians.

As generational cohorts, we are not fine as it seems but it’s just our fair share of trouble and disaster being dished out to us. After all, dread has always characterized generations before us, except ours are highly sophisticated and cancerous; sometimes through the simple administering of a pint of a deadly chemical and the plunging of a syringe or even a nuclear bomb. It’s even more deadlier when you think of suicide bombers and viral infections such as Ebola on the other hand.

But whether these stories of conspiracy are personal or polemical, perspectives or allegorical, it would be in the interest of the reader to see beyond the matrix to see the reality therein, since there’s usually a devil or God in the detail. And while it is hopeful to have solace in the fact that good shall triumph in the end, be however mindful that the world has kind of thrived on terror and trepidation such as Powerhouses fighting against each other for superpowers, tales of big stones raining from the skies to end our existence in such a morbid manner, deadly and viral infections that yields to no cure, economic crunches that cannot survive all the economic theories and spiel and wetincallit. So before you go about there spreading rumors of your gullibility that the world is coming to an end, take note of your existence on earth, subtract it from how long the world has existed and the answer is your demise is near, not that of the world.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

writer tweets @vilejah                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

The State of our schools

It’s the aftermath of the annual edition of the JoyFm’s old skul reunion which is also touted as the biggest outdoor program in West Africa and I want to use this opportunity to pat the back of JoyFm who is ostensibly the poster child of the multimedia group of companies based in Accra, for instituting and achieving this feat and to also wade into the national debate of the estranged relationship between Religion and education.

I do not intend to bore you with the history of Schools but once upon a time, Missionaries with all

The Main Gate of Presec boys that leads to a citadel of Knowledge

intents and purpose set foot on our land to evangelize the word of God but decided over time to set up schools to educate the inhabitants of the land to facilitate easy preaching and conversion, then came the government to take over from the Churches, thus rendering them a pale shadows of themselves without a bearing.

Education, as one of the building blocks of society has lately been in the news for all the wrong reasons such as yearly examination malpractices, decline in discipline and excellence - resulting in weaker institutions, inconsistent curricula, devaluing of our certificates outside the shores of the land, unwilling and unqualified tutors due to inadequacy and unattractiveness of the teaching profession and now a political tool in the hands of the Politicians which often results in unbridled strike actions, probably due to neglect from the very people it has helped nurtured into positions of repute and also because the government has decided to micromanage the schools including the very ones that were built by and through the toil of Churches.

The government then intruded the educational system as it were through regulation which eventually neutralized and accorded every player in the educational terrain an equal status to probably drive home the fact that we are all equal, before the Law and even before God. Maybe, we should be thanking the Government for whipping us into congruence. Nevertheless, I do not think we are all the same and wields equal status like they try to impress upon us simply because I see and commune with different sorts of people in my everyday walks of life and have seen enough to still frolic in the idea of all of us being the same. However, whoever thinks that we are all equal can revel in their delusion.

In every society, continuity is of essence - to preserve their cultural orientations and beliefs, to at least give them a false sense of permanence.  This permanence or any effort at instilling it is not hewed out of frivolity but often arrived at out of practical convictions have become one of the very reasons why humans will procreate to continue their race. I also believe it is in the same vein that religious entities instituted schools to indoctrinate their very owns and other affiliates who find their way to their doorsteps.

Muslims and Christians with their varied sects such as the Catholics, the Wesleyans, The Presbyterians, the Anglicans and even some latter day churches, through their mission schools have produced a chunk of excellent individuals who have metamorphosed into giant brands and sometimes, with a lot of followings. Then came in too much liberation and the equality argument without recourse to the preambles and purposes of why the mission schools were built in the first place turned up a notch higher. 

All persons, regardless of their creed were allowed anywhere but should they not be compelled to abide by the tenets of the accommodating institution?

Personally, Muslims and traditionalists who have no school anyway can attend the mission schools if they wish to be nurtured by the indoctrinating school of their choice and vice versa, but such individuals must be compelled to go the full haul to align to the spirit and letter of the Church or their schools thereof. And rightfully so, to continue breeding legions of soldiers who are without a doubt the future of the Church and an extension of its doctrines to ultimately fulfill the purpose of establishing the Church. 

But what do we see?

The St. Augustine's Administration block in its full glory

Pockets of infidels found their ways into these mission schools and have over time become cystic and protected by the law through their fundamental human rights that they can even haul a whole institution to a battle of wits at the courts of Law. The mission schools have now become pale shadows of themselves because discipline which invariably is/was a key to breeding near excellence is no more. Students are not even caned any longer or where necessary it cannot exceed six. 

Methinks, if the powers that be do not have a problem with these churches or cannot impugn on their existence and their indoctrination thereof, then these churches should be allowed to build their own schools as an appendage to train students accordingly. These Churches also have a need for permanence which requires them to spread their tentacles and by extension, their dominance. 

To think that religious and moral education have been expunged from the curricula has only made the government’s efforts at neutralizing and thwarting the objective of the mission schools too blatant. Government should both build its own school and make it free education or whatever political gains they stand to derive from their gimmick and leave the religious schools to operate since their mother churches have been allowed to fester. Better still, the government should leave the administration and its bearing in the hands of the Churches and if need be, regulate it from the fringes. We all know now what it means to say that government has taken over schools as it is so evident in how educational standards have fallen to their lowest ebb but the question is why and how does government take over all the religious schools in the first place?

Thus far, it is even convenient to say that it was imprudent of the government to take over these schools because it doesn’t seem to be making meaningful strides. At most, education is even a distraction on government’s plate, looking at how they are still toying with what a senior high school curriculum should entail and look like? If a lot was achieved through crude and not-so-smart ways of doing things in terms of storing and availing data or textbooks in the past with the Churches in charge, why can’t we mobilize, plan and execute our agendas in this day and age where schools now take pride in websites?

 Writer tweets @vilejah 

Unscripted

It’s my birthday and I am going to tell you about a typical day in my life; a very true story at that. Being someone who like to play in the shadows of discreetness, I must say talking about myself gives me an indescribable feeling I dislike, but it’s probably because most are not worth writing about. I am a bad guy in a very good way, so anytime I decide to talk about me, I am either reveling in my deviance or gloating about the very few bright spots fate has littered along the journey or talking about the mundane things everybody experiences which is uncool for me. 

I would rather talk about things, discuss ideas, or join the men at the coffee shop or even listen, which is most of the time, than trying to impress you beyond reasonable doubt, simply because I am one of the very few who believes in the maxim water finds its own level. Yeah, who no know no go know, unless they know; the very reason that informs our choice of books by their covers. How else do you pick your books anyway? 

I must however confess that till now, I haven’t settled down on what to write about because I don’t know if I should talk about me in my teens, my twenties or now, my thirties. I don’t know if it should be me at the church, school, in the Club, at the Parties or Carnivals, Beach at night or during the day, on road trips or with family and friends and most importantly, I don’t know if it should be one of my downsides or upsides, but yeah, I’m hell bent on telling you one of my stories to at least inform or correct one speculation or a perception thereof. 

Alright, I will indulge you in how I was unanimously elected the Psychology Course Rep. in the first two years of my University Education at the University of Ghana, Legon until I relinquished it and stopped attending lectures altogether. It was the second day of Lectures and most of us were yet to actually understand where we were and what was happening. University education has begun and we are here some, at the Premier University. And you have no idea! 

Expectedly though but things were brisk and different. And yet, while some of us were still struggling to find the locations of lecture halls and theatres or struggling to memorize semesters instead of the terms we were used to or even trying to convince ourselves that we knew what credit hours meant, I was battling it out with a T.A. who was then a Law Student at the UGSoL to retract his words in course of his lectures to which he obliged, which in turn made me happy and we’ve since been friends.

Psych 101 is underway and the topic at hand is sources of Knowledge which he explains are divided into two main parts, namely scientific and non-scientific methods and he delves onto Tenacity, which is one of the non-scientific ways of acquiring knowledge. He explains tenacity as holding on fast to something or a belief and goes on to say, for instance, Christians believe in one stupid book which tells them that a certain King Solomon was and shall be the wisest man even in the absence of verifiable truth to which almost every student exclaimed “Oh!”

As if on cue, I yelled “Sir, you can’t say that” from the back to which everyone exclaimed “Eh” and
silence befell the lecture hall. You could actually hear the tick-tocks of watches and he asked me to stand up and I did. Things are about to get real shady, I told myself and then he asked me to explain my reason(s) for the retort.

Then I say “Sir, you can’t say that just because it did not happen in your time or there is no verifiable truth. Most of us were not born in the era of Dr. Kwame Nkrumah and cannot say for a fact that he lived even though he did and led an awe inspiring life which is already mythical to our generation. How much more a legend that is two thousand years? In fifty years time, anyone who chooses not to believe in the Kwame Nkrumah Story can resort to deriding him and his opinion will not become the new truth. Besides, Sir, the Bible symbolizes the faith of so many people here which is why you can’t say that” and the whole class cheered yeah, yeah, hear, hear, and anything people say when they pride themselves in a Champion.

The Lecturer managed a smile and thanked me for the perspective and instructively retracted that analogy and apologized by actually saying sorry which was humbling as he continued with the lectures. About ten minutes into time, he calls and beckons “You at the back, come here” and the class with their usual exclamations that sways in allegiance of who is winning or losing the turn of events exclaimed “3h3” meaning ‘as3m aba’. Honestly, I felt the jitters as I walked forward to the front of the hall.

“Gentleman, what’s your name?”

“Alfred Kpodo”

“I want you to be my Class President, will you?”

Hesitatingly, I answered “Yes, I will” then he turns to the Class and asks…

“Do you want him as your Class President?”

“Yes.”

“From now onwards, you are the Class President”.

“Thanks”

Then he asked me to take my seat to which I heeded and that first step I took after the introduction marked the beginning of my enjoyment of special favors on Campus. 

And, just so the import of my recount does not lost on you, all I am trying to say on this very beautiful day which also doubles as my birthday is that I am a Cancer and I can be very infectious. God bless as I dedicate my first Unscripted to my parents for showing the way in my quest for happyness.

Happy Birthday to me.

writer tweets @vilejah

The near misses...

He reached for his two brown loafers, fitted his feet into them effortlessly and then looks at her intensely with a somewhat expressionless face for what seemed like a couple of seconds, bade her a goodbye and then storms out of her room through the big living room which was spatially adorned with nice fittings and fixtures in an unusual manner. For a reason he couldn’t fathom in that little space of time, he felt happy and relieved he was leaving Awo’s end with less drama than he anticipated and the fact that he was not harboring his usual look-back-go-back feeling except the assertive wind that snatched and banged the trap door into its frame as though he was upset at the turn of events.

His energy is sapped and he doesn't want to continue like this any longer. Even though he did not know how they found themselves in their current situation, one thing was certain - it was over. How long will they continue to fight over everything; same things that made the relationship thick in the not so distant past. It was time to hit the road, so he dared and prayed silently that the feeling was not false. 

He walks to the roadside which was just a stone throw away depending on who throws the stone and flags down a Taxi. He sits at the back of the car, diagonal to the driver's side as though he owned it.  He couldn't care less and couldn't care about sitting positions - his bane, which was out of habit.

He peered through the half rolled glass on the window into the distance as street lights and neon billboards display all kinds of merchandise money can buy glides by. He hardly can have a grasp of a billboard or the concepts they seem to eternally illuminate before another one comes by – a sudden realization that the driver is speeding and he loved it. A little speed in his life right now is welcomed.

He observed that part of the city was half shut-off, a reminder of the ever present ECG which no one seems to care about, even the Govament! Pockets of blur lights in the distance illuminating like floodlights, resulting in less human and vehicular traffic. The airy night was just perfect as it readily influenced where he should go and do for a getaway.

A perfect setting for all the wrong reasons...

KoLo is confused about who he is and by extension, what is expected of him. He is preoccupied with conflicting images and ideas of who a real man should be. Trends are changing so fast than a dog can trot. Bat an eyelid and the world moves ahead a decade leaving you lagging behind.

Things have changed. You can't really be yourself any longer. Everybody is supposed to have a role-model or be one. By all means, act and behave like one of the leading men in the drama series or just someone popular to get by. Just be anything other than you.

According to some lifestyle magazines, a real man should keep a job. A real man should visit the meds periodically. A real man should be represented or associated with prim suits, big watches, at least a big car. A real man should be greeted with a rousing welcome when they make an entry or make everyone sad when they leave the party. A real man should not make his lady cry or lack anything, not even her emotional needs and the list goes on but thanks to some alcohol, some irresponsible friends and some Daddy's legacy, he has been able to push thus far.

He is tired of being subjected to the standards of Hollywood or wetincallit. He is ordinary and wants to remain as such and tired of keeping appearances. After all, no one is dedicated to making up his face ten times in an hour, neither is his hair primmed to stand on like bristles from time to time. He adjusts well and whips up his not-so-smart phone, unlocks it and start wiping his finger on the lit screen with dexterity in a way you have never seen before. He seemed to have done that all his life.

He delves into his gallery and start swiping pictures of him and Awo. All the nice moments they captured in the fleeting scenery and the beautiful imagery it provokes, the laughter on their faces especially that of hers, as though she couldn’t live without him. She even said it so many times. But how he managed to live with this lie is something he is not even prepared to think about, not to talk about the promises, the good life they envisaged together and just everything they share. He realized he was getting sentimental again, so he puts the screen off and slips it back into his pocket. If only he could do same for his mind. How relieving it would be to just snap something; maybe a finger and the mind shuts.

Everybody including Awo wants something, so it turned out that she wants the good life, travel around the place if possible, hang out with the Socialites among her circles, and spend some real cash. She also wants a real man out of her man which means anything that makes her feel good even at the detriment of the significant other. A man who compliments her shortfalls – a need dictated by her suppressed emotions….

…to be continued.

writer tweets @vilejah

Sensational Edem to Go'getem

I enjoy being a critic, i.e. to observe and study situations to offer differing or lacking perspectives to appear more intelligent than the initiator(s) but I have decided to do something different today – to take time off to sing the praise song of one of the sensational and versatile acts of our time, the VRMG’s Edem, before the eulogies starts trickling in.

Swagnificent Edem in a happy mood

I have micro blogged a couple of times on Twitter and on my Facebook page about the rapper who has refined his brand from Ayigbe Edem to Edem, but I am of the conviction that dedicating a full blog on the heels of the rapper’s ability to win the Best International Act at the just ended Black Canadian Awards in far away Canada would be timely and proper.

Edem beats the likes of Mafikizolo from South Africa, Davido, Yemi Alade and Oritse Femi, all of Nigeria and Eddy Kenzo from Uganda among other African artistes from other parts of the continent over the weekend to become the crowned King of the Black Community in Canada. 

Just like I predicted for other enduring Acts, Edem was promising with his official debut as soon as he stepped on the scene and caught up with everyone like a wildfire in a dry season and has lived up to the billing over the years by featuring both local and international acts.

The award winning rapper and singer whose recently launched album ‘Books and Rhymes’ features dope songs waxed with beautiful storylines, literary prose, watertight lyrics and good compositions deserves a special mention for his immense contribution to shaping the musical landscape of Ghana. This recognition for me should even be a notch higher considering the fact that as a poster child for VRMG, the rapper who raps mostly in Ewe, defied the odds and made a breakthrough when other rappers could barely string words together, let alone over beats.

Edem, who cannot be exactly touted as the torchbearer of the Ewe rap has however worked hard to pay his dues by putting Ewe rap on the map of both hip life and hip hop genre and has quickly risen to become the one to inspire all the aspiring Ewe rappers who are seeking to cement his legacy through the lingua.

Edem, in one of his performances feat. Gemini, a Dancehall Act

The VRMG Poster child who does Reggae, Hip Hop, Dancehall and Hip life is by far one of the most versatile artistes in Ghana with strong collaborative pieces that touches on all facets of life and a convincing force to reckon with as far as the music industry in Ghana is concerned. The funny Volta Regime Entertainer who won best album of the year, best directed video with ‘the one’ and Afro pop song of the year 2015 under review, exudes intelligence and depth if his lyrics and compositions are anything to go by. 

To this end, Edem is incontrovertibly the forte of Ewe rap music by being the first to cross country beyond Africa and the musical ambassador representing the Volta region while still making inroads into the international scene where he’s had several nominations, some of which he eventually won. He has three studio albums to his credit namely 'Volta Regime' , 'Mass Production' and 'Books and rhymes' Edem is more than a rapper and a force that will not stop until his work is done. Kudos Edem for blazing the trail and while having solace in the fact that the ghetto will rise one day.

Writer tweets @vilejah

...Of floods, fire and brimstones.

I have not been inspired to write for your reading pleasure or torture thereof in a while because the system I speak to, seem so resilient and fortified by its unrepentant folks but I am compelled on this black day in the history of Ghana to pass a few comments.

This morning while observing my usual meditation, I was inspired from the words of the Legendary Robert Nesta Marley’s “Many more will have to suffer, many more will have to die” to pen to whom it may concern that the death toll we recorded last Wednesday night into the wee hours of Thursday as a result of the torrential downpour in our nation, Ghana, may just be a precursor to what is to come. My view!

I was so livid when I managed to wake up somewhere in the countryside to the macabre images that were splashed all over, thanks to social media and I knew shit has hit the fan which made me somewhat indifferent to all the telltales that were being churned out by any social media account holder. May their souls rest in perfect peace.

I hardly know what really the cause was, but I don’t want to believe that we are an ungrateful lot who pray for the rains to come only to turn around to accurse God for the mayhem that visits with our requests. I also think what happened at Circle was avoidable but for a few greedy folks who wanted to line their pockets at the expense of the nation and rightfully so if you quantify the loss and I will outline why I feel so strongly about my conviction.

Even though our attitude as a people underlies all the factors that contribute to these bizarre happenings anytime the rain sets in, I would first attribute it to leadership crisis. Our leaders have woefully failed us by by-standing while the laws, regulations and by-laws lie fallow on their dusty shelves. They hardly enforce the law because the buck stops nowhere. No one to ascertain that the right things are done and rarely are people held accountable; our bane.

The second factor is over-monetization of the system, such that, we have thrown our values to the dogs. By all means, do anything to make money even if it’s despicable and inhumane because it is the only way to be glorified in our society. If you are very observant, you would realize that Fuel filling stations have sprung and are springing in every nook and cranny in our settlements and even in the big cities which is not the way to go. I am of the view that we need more fuel to power the nation but I beg to differ on the proliferation of fuel stations even though I stand to be corrected. 

Growing up in my area, Chantan, near New Achimota, I had one bitter experience which makes me bemoan the powers that be. The only football park where all the community members come together to recreate was sold to ONE PERSON TO MAKE MONEY. He turned the place into a filling station, which eventually allowed the devil to set in to find jobs for those who found themselves idle. Today, some of them are languishing in jail for peddling in one drug usage or the other, petty thievery and what have you.

Thirdly, the Permit issuing authorities should bow down their heads in shame for selling every small opening in our areas of settlements to be transformed into gas and petrol filling stations which are highly inflammable. How many times are these setups going to explode too destroy lives and properties before we take drastic measures that these setups cannot be situated at places where people inhabit? Sadly, the truth is the community members cannot be careful at all times so it behooves the authorities to sit up and do something good that will outlast them for once. The laws should be enforced somehow because we do not want to wake up to these gruesome happenings. They are daunting on our national psyche and scary to say the least.

I have seen many buildings marked ‘STOP WORK, PRODUCE PERMIT BY AMA’ that have seen the light of day after a few visits to the office. What changed to warrant the approval of such buildings to be built?

Fourthly, our civic institutions must sit up to educate the people as mandated by the very powers that established them. They should educate the people that demolishing structures that are situated on waterways or on roads does not mean that they cannot live in Accra if that is what they want by all means necessary. It only means, they should relocate for the greater good of all. It only means that we are gate-keeping for the generations to come. It only means that we are poised on doing what is right. It only means that we want to commit to something greater than ourselves.

Fifthly, the government must pass a law to ban fuel filling stations to desist from allowing people to park their cars at their premises. That way, when mayhem visits against all odds, only a few casualties will be recorded which we can contain as a nation. Just as people are admonished to have a verandahs before acquiring monkeys, people buying cars should consider where to park them to avoid being adjoining explosives when fire and flood decides to inflame.

Sadly, I have been tossing the sixth point in my mind for a long time without an answer even before this tragedy erupted and I guess it’s time to be radical in our approach. To use the bottom-up approach, I would like to know what is the use of Assembly men and women in our society? When I was growing up, I recall Assembly heads organizing communal labor which brings together every member in the community every one Saturday in a month where gutters were desilted, streets and corners were swept and kept squeaky clean, so what happened? 

Truth of the matter is, Ghana has most of her priorities misplaced; in that, we have to wait for a massive sum of 200 people to die and many more displaced and livelihoods shelved, for those who lost breadwinners through the raging inferno to expend Gh¢60million, and as though that is not enough, to declare three days of productivity to mourning their departed souls. And then what?

How much more are we going to dole out to the dead should a disaster of such magnitude happen again and how many more days is the state going to declare when we could prevent all these self-afflicted catastrophes that are far-fetched from natural disasters?

It is even unfortunate when these so-called experts are arrayed on our TVs and radios to tell us what could have been done. Where were they when these politically incorrect structures were being erected all over the place and the least said about the print and the electronic media who are supposed to hold fort for the ordinary man, the better. The rhetoric is helping no one, somebody should crack the whip and rein us into line since a little force and brute can get things right. 

Writer tweets @vilejah