Behind the back of Atta Mills - Occasional Kwatriot Kwesi Yankah writes

See how Ghanaians commemorate the departed long after we have given them a very ‘nice’ send off.

Our impressive  goodbyes may even compel an envious mourner to say to himself: "Aww, how nice the funeral was, and how I wish it was my own.”

In expressing such a wish, however, please make sure your whisper is not close to a live microphone; or else your obituary may be announced the next day, and to your hearing!

Often after the salivating funeral comes the haunting reality! The deceased is such an august personality, a great statesman, a man of peace; we have therefore decided to name the High Street after him!

A high school after him, a library after him: Atta Mills Memorial Library. 

How about his remains a year after? There is a little problem here. His elegant tomb originally meant as a tourist attraction, soon becomes an eyesore at the city center: overgrown with weeds, later a hub for the homeless, and eventually a brothel.

Those days, one could have prompted his church congregation to mobilize the youth to go and weed the cemetery, so the dearly departed may breathe. 

Other times, relations who anticipate foul play on the blind side of the corpse, may decide to secure their precious departed in a grand style.

A plush mansion may be built to comfortably lay the remains with 24-hour security! This happens as an insurance against any schemes of grave diggers who during the filing past, could do a quick recce and lament how the such precious jewelry accompanying the dead could have started a prosperous ‘momo’ business.

In naming streets and notable sites after public figures, could we consult their relations for approval and possible meditation since the entire scheme may be a conspiracy to reverse all honors the deceased has accrued.  

If the entity called ‘State’ decides to honour your departed through a grand naming ceremony, please run away, or at least recruit prayer warriors!

In the case of Azumah Nelson our great world boxing champion of the 1990s, a Kaneshie Sports Stadium named after him was eventually reduced to a site for grasscutters and grazing cattle.

All that happened while the honoree Azumah still lives. A restless spirit  angered by such blasphemy behind his back, could as well decide to settle scores by serially laying his icy hand on all sports administrators who conspired to (dis)honour his memory.

Check the mortal remains of our past heroes and the plight of their corpses. In the case of Kwame Nkrumah our Titan, the issue was partly the number of transit points and transfers his remains have endured since his death in 1972: moved from Bucharest (Rumania) where he died, to Conakry where he migrated on his overthrow, to Nkroful his birthplace, and finally Accra, where a fitting monument was built and recently refurbished. That was enough for a harassed traveler to have complained to the travel agent.

"I am Ghanaian, please give me a direct flight!" The eventual relocation of Nkrumah’s body to Accra may have deprived Nkroful of a great tourist attraction; but note what happened to another Ghanaian hero, George Paa Grant. 

In 2018, while speaking at the 10th graduation ceremony at University of Mines and Technology (UMAT) in Tarkwa, I lamented the plight of the great George Paa Grant who was founder and financier of UGCC, the United Gold Coast Convention the first national independence movement, a great statesman after whom UMAT renamed early 2018.

In my speech that year in the presence of Paa Grant’s relations of Tarkwa, I lamented the sorry spectacle of his tomb since his death in 1956.

Hear my words that day spoken in the presence of J. A. Kufuor, the august Chancellor of UMAT: It is a pity that history, or rather the unfortunate subversion of our past by contemporary society, has led to the debasement and  desecration of great men, who are not just unsung, but also abused. It is indeed a scandal that the tomb in which Paa Grant was buried when he died in 1956, has now become a drinking spot in Axim where he was born.

Happily, this University UMAT has redeemed, indeed come to the rescue of history, and refurbished the profile of a great personality, who would have been mistaken by future generations for an ignoble wretch (my words 28th July, 2018).

2011, a year before his demise, Mills was the subject of a public lecture I gave on the platform of the Ghana Academy of Arts and Sciences. His famous adage ‘Dzi wo fie Asem,’ ignited my interest leading to a 65 minute lecture I delivered to a teeming audience at the British Council Hall in Accra. 

The rather embarrassing memorial Ghana President Mills has endured, did not happen overnight. It started July 2012 when hurried preparations started for the immediate burial of the man of honour. Apparently the NDC government he led needed to quickly market his successor and win an election five months away! In giving a three-week notice for burial, the NDC government however risked being accused of a customary breach:  ‘you have buried our royal like a fowl.’ 

In the meantime their party’s founder visiting faraway Congo at the time, added to the absurd.

In an interview, our beloved J.J. typically withheld his hallelujahs and mildly scolded the dead and his handlers: ‘A little wisdom on his part would have given him a few more months on earth.’ Oooucch!  On Jerry’s return to Accra, he did not mince words raising further eyebrows in the Book of Condolences: ‘Fare thee well Prof. Let’s hope we will do better at keeping those with destructive tendencies away and out of national endeavours. Help JM with whatever you can offer from where you are since you are now free.’

Despite the glitches, Mills was still mourned as a national hero. For three weeks, all flags flew at half-mast countrywide.

Ghana ground to a halt. Flagbearers on campaign trails suspended the search for power and came down to give Egya Atta a fitting burial. 

Now here comes 24th July 2024, a grand ceremony commemorating the great symbol of peace at his refurbished memorial park. Riots, confrontation, virtual confusion  around the tomb: a clash of factions, exchange of abuse; a walkout by kinsmen; insults, curses, swear words, complete commotion: all to commemorate a dignified man of peace.

Sad, but all that added to our unusual veneration of Egya Atta. Recall one incident reported in 2012 a few hours after the tragic news broke. A 45-year old women’s organizer got fatally disorganized in the process. On hearing the tragic news she marked her grief with excessive alcohol, then collapsed and died at a drinking spot in Buipe. It only means our dear country has other ways of commemorating loved ones behind their back; and these include celebrating departures with red eyeballs. 

At the end of it all, a grieving nation 12 years later remains confused, still awaiting the autopsy report of a presidentially departed. First, our beloved Rawlings blew the lid from far away Congo when he hinted of a terminal disease in a BBC interview.

But the question still persists with higher eyebrows. To the ordinary Ogyakromian, such reports need not spill technical details to confuse the ordinary man. All that is awaited in Ogyakrom, is whether the deceased died of hunger, or of witchcraft.

For all you know, our beloved President must have died from COVID-2012, far ahead of Covid-19.

kwyankah@yahoo.com