As 2015 comes to an end
It has been quite a year. I wanted to cast my mind back to the many dramatic events that have taken place. But it is the recent and current events that seem to dominate my mind.
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Accra is everybody’s hometown
It does seem that we all have to redefine the concept of hometown. It used to be that people went to their hometowns for the big Christian festivals of Christmas and Easter.
Accra, our capital city, was crowded up to Christmas Eve and the lorry stations would be packed with people heading home to go and spend quality time with members of their families and take presents with them.
For a few days, the natives would reclaim their city and the streets would be empty and movement around the city would be a joy. The shopkeepers certainly took a well-deserved break, and the dressmakers, hairdressers and other service providers shut shop after serving the last stragglers on Christmas Eve before they also headed to their hometowns.
It is quite likely the phenomenon has been going on for some time but this year, it has become quite remarkable. Hardly anybody seems to have travelled out of Accra for the Christmas celebrations. Consequently, the streets of Accra remained crowded and many shops were opened even on Christmas Day.
This leads me to ask the inevitable question of whether I haven’t simply lost track of dramatic sociological changes in our society. Maybe there is nobody left in the villages that people used to call their hometowns for them to go and spend time with. If every relation of any significance is in Accra, who would you be going to visit in your hometown?
It would appear that these days only death and its attendant matters take people to their official hometowns. Because burial space in Accra is at a premium, the bodies of even those who haven’t stepped in their hometowns for years and are not known by anybody in the villages get taken there for burial. As we all stayed in Accra, Christmas didn’t feel like Christmas.
Chutzpa on display
I had promised myself I would not be tempted to say anything about the Honourable Minister of dumsor again; but reading what he had to say on his performance, I can’t help but point out that this man must surely be the epitome of the word chutzpa. This is where chutzpa describes a man who, having killed his parents, then insists that he deserves to be treated with extra tenderness because he is an orphan. I do not care how the Honourable Minister calculates the end of the year or whenever his year starts or ends; he can award a hundred per cent to himself for his performance, in my book, he has caused irreparable damage.
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Counting achievements
I haven’t seen the publication His Excellency the President launched that is supposed to be a compilation of his achievements. I hope sincerely that the list does not include any reference to the Kwame Nkrumah overpass. Nothing will make up for the disaster that is currently being inflicted on us there.
I don’t know if the President is counting his achievements from January 2009, when he was sworn in as Vice-President and when by his own testimony, he was given free rein to operate by the much lamented President Mills, or he is limiting it to the period from July 2012 when he assumed office on the death of President Mills, or from January 2013 when he was sworn in as President, or from August 29, 2013, the date the Supreme Court gave the ruling on the election petition.
It would be interesting to know what the President wants included or omitted from his report card. Now that he has unveiled a compilation of his achievements, I would think it should be acceptable to launch a compilation of the President’s failures as well. Indeed, I have seen a cruel list of the failures making the rounds. If he should read that list, the
President would certainly come to the conclusion that he should have kept his mouth shut more often.
Where are the journalists?
On the subject of the branded buses and matters arising thenceforth, I have to recuse myself for very good reasons. I am hoping, however, that I will be allowed to ask two and a half questions:
If resignations are required, why is the Honourable Minister of Finance still at post when he is the minister who has access to the Petroleum Fund, from which the questionable payment was made? He must have been convinced about the amount and the propriety of dipping into the fund?
When I last checked, the Metro Mass Transport was a public limited liability company in which the government had 45 per cent shares; in other words, the MMT is not a department of the ministry. The question then is, does the MMT have a board of directors and where was the chief executive of the company?
The half question is: where were our journalists? I am told by those who move around town that these buses have been branded and parked in the open for months on end.
Could it be that no journalist saw them or found anything vaguely interesting about them while they were parked there?
Would our journalists be interested in the list of things charged to the expenditure on the Petroleum Fund? I heard someone suggest that the government was using the
Petroleum Fund as Petty Cash; every time there was some expenditure for which they did not have any ready source of money, they turned to the Petroleum Fund.
Would our journalists be interested in finding out for us how the decision is made about what is charged to the Petroleum Fund? And while they are on this subject, maybe they can find out and tell us who are on the board of the MMT and who the chief executive is and if and why they are still at post and receiving remuneration.
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The ill wind to end the year
This year the harmattan has come early and is so severe, I find it oppressive. I am trying very hard to find some positive sides to it but I am afraid I can’t.
There probably is some advantage in a film of dust getting into every crevice of your body and your household, but I haven’t found any yet.
The most expensive body lotions don’t do the trick; it is back to the good old reliable shea butter for the cracked skins and lips. The plants are suffering, the lawns look decidedly unhappy, and I fear for my laptop as the dust gets into the keyboard.
It is an ill wind that blows no one any good. The year 2015 has been that type of year; 2016 must be better.
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