The other day, for no particular reason at all beyond probably being a little bit sick upstairs in the head, I found myself in an imaginary theatre, watching a play. Screenplay: Written and produced by WW Incorporated. Revised, Fourth Draft. November 17, 2008.
FADE IN: At a residential complex of former colonial neighbourhood in the heart of privileged part of Accra. Air-conditioned room. Three guests seated on cushy-cushy couches. Outside, the hot tropical sun refuses to let off; red dust abound. Along the main road-side are children of no particular fixed addresses, beyond being unfortunately born to parents who permanently suffer from Third World credit crunch disease. The children are filled with joy as they dangerously chase after vehicles in fast motion to sell Chinese-made products. They live for today. Who cares about tomorrow? “One day at a time”, they seem to say through the purity of their innocent smiles.
CAST: Lings-Raw, White-Dove Royale and three members of Pope-Locale Club.
Lings-Raw, a tall, broad-hairy-chested, light-skinned, wealth-blossomed, gray-bearded opinionated man is pacing up and down the sprawling hall and frantically scratching his tough beard. He sits awkwardly, but briefly. He clears his throat, rises with a body stretch and growling to welcome the strange guests whose presence he has just noticed. Lings-Raw has just had a good-old breakfast. He looks bored but glad to receive guests, any guests. He enjoys the chance to speak out, to anyone, in what ordinary folks call ‘boom’ talk.
LINGS-RAW (hissing): Why has it taken you so long to come here to talk about White-Dove Royale?
Pope-Locale Club, a select white-robe wearing holy-book folks with red sash tied awkwardly around their bloated mid-sections remain calm, with a determined demeanour. They are message carriers who deliver peace messages. The messenger is also the message. Pope-Locale Club don’t fear a thing. After all, they have access to the bigger man upstairs’ mighty umbrella for protection so don’t fear any whatamacalhim bloke down here.
POPE-LOCALE CLUB: We bring greetings from God almighty! We ask that you join us on this peace journey.
LINGS-RAW: Why can’t Ghana be managed in my way? It is either my way or the high-way. (Suddenly, he notices a dove in the living room). What is this dove doing here? It will be perfect for soup. This dove will be delightfully tasty in okro soup and banku.
White-Dove Royale, a beautiful, ageless silvery-white dove, looking almost heavenly, hovers around, boldly flapping its strong wings, insisting that it gets attention.
WHITE-DOVE ROYALE: You earthly folks are talking about me as if I wasn’t here. I bring you the peace that passeth all understanding. God’s peace I bring to you! You people dare not do anything against my wishes. You can’t handle the truth. You better figure things out. No drama for Ghana! And oh, Lings-Raw, I’m not soup material. I’m heavenly. You would choke on me if Nana puts me in soup. You would chew more than you have ever dared. Leave your insatiable appetite out of my matters. Eh, you are looking very good lately!
As I watched the play, lost deeply in thoughts, my beloved grandchildren interrupted, lovingly. Thoughts of White-Dove Royale lingered on with the words, God’s peace I bring to you! But I snapped out of the zone with words of Zora Neale Hurston, the celebrated African American novelist and anthropologist, one of my favourite authors, buzzing in my head. In particular, her highly acclaimed novel, “Their eyes were watching God” enveloped me. If you are a Zora lover, you know that when she grabs you, you submit. So I gave in to her voice and let her inform my understanding of the play.
To Ghanaians who were alive, even if they were not yet politically conscious at the time, any memories of the PNDC, the much-touted revolutionary era, take us into what Zora would call an “infinity of conscious pain.” Last Monday, members of the National Peace Council, led by Cardinal Appiah-Turkson, the Catholic Archbishop of Cape Coast, visited the former Flt Lt Rawlings of the PNDC, who morphed into President Rawlings and founder of the NDC, and then by default became Ex-President Rawlings to discuss, matters of peace in the December elections. He was quoted as asserting, with crass impunity, that “there is so much injustice in the country” and set conditions for peace to prevail.
Such words from him scrape old wounds which years have not healed. Injustice? What injustices didn’t this country not suffer under his revolution? Do we even need to play-back proceedings of ‘Reconciliation’ hearings? Injustice should not be like beauty which lies in the eyes of the beholder. Fortunately, no misfortune of collective amnesia has occurred.
Zora again: “There is a basin in the mind where words float around on thought and thought on sound and sight. Then there is a depth of thought untouched by words, and deeper still a gulf of formless feelings untouched by thought.” Despite the fast decreasing life-span of Ghanaians, there are still citizens alive who remember the terror, the callousness, the tables with women being whipped for selling milk above the “control price” with crowds looking on, the stray bullets that passed through homes, the deaths, those lost forever and unaccounted for, and the many other atrocities.
Such memories continue to float in the basin of the mind but to maintain sanity, the memories are simply left as formless feelings without thought and words. If you are religious, if you believe in anything higher above the ordinariness of your humanity, there is the temptation to simply drop on your knees and forget that you are there! Then, in a deep prayer without words, you plead to God, “Father, protect Ghana. Give us grace to continue. Be our guide. Forgive us our trespasses.” Afterwards, you awkwardly sweep yourself off your knees, already drooling at the mouth, toss yourself on the bed, and continue the sleep.
Zora again: “There are years that ask questions and years that answer.” Why in the world is there a political party with the Rawlings of AFRC/PNDC fame as founder and father? On the verges of the sweaty maddening crowd and high anxieties of electioneering campaigning, why is Rawlings still so much at centre stage of Ghana’s politics? Wasn’t the almost two decades of his post-colonial rule from the slave castle just about enough? When will he get tired and permit Ghana to figure things out, relieving us from his grip? Is he more Ghanaian than the rest of us? Doesn’t he also have just one vote? Why is Rawlings the person to be setting conditions for peace in this country? Fact: Rawlings has over-stayed his time in Ghana’s politics.
What is and who is a ‘Social Democrat’? How do we know one when we see one? Along the same line of questioning – What is the ‘Danquah-Busia Tradition’ and ‘property-owning democracy’? What happens to the many wretched poor of the land left in the stinky cracks of properties? Ouch! What is the meaning of these jargons and what are their implications for our democracy and for our future as a nation-state as we struggle to transcend our challenges?
I’m choking with questions without answers. But I’ll stay put without answers and simply float with Zora who said, “No matter how far a person can go, the horizon is till way beyond you.”
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