Mantow Aba - Occasional Kwatriot Kwesi Yankah writes
Call them Mantow Aba: a large group of rebels spread throughout Ghana, who managed to keep their thumbs unstained by the December elections.
They resisted the devil’s temptation to vote, and chose to play games or go farming throughout the Day of voting. Between our type of elections and their cassava farm, they chose the cassava farm.
They are Rebels, call them Voter Haram.
One day, they will be hailed as heroes and carried shoulder high. I dread a time when democracy will be so humiliated in our Motherland that voters will seek to conceal all evidence of aiding and abetting democracy. The indelible ink, currently flaunted as a proud sign of voter participation may soon be evidence of guilt, betraying accomplices who behind the polling booth connived to give democracy a bad name. That’s where no-vote rebels may report and plead alibi: ‘Not my fault, check my fingers, mantow aba.’
Until that historic moment, voter apathy will continue to be blamed for the humiliating fall of the Elephant, and the current mob attacks on democracy. ‘Blame those who refused to vote,’ say party fanatics, while Voter Haram hits back: ‘Blame those blaming us.’ But listen to this market woman, Ayorkor Maame who spoke bluntly to me at Amasaman, ‘Why should I vote? Both parties are pickpockets,’ she said chuckling and rolling her eyeballs.
Ayorkor’s mother had decided to call a spade a spade, not a spoon. To her the entire voting business is a national conspiracy to recycle pickpockets. JulƆi sƆη, Obiara ba nyƐ, Obiara ba a saa. ‘I have been voting since Adam. They are all the same.’
But she soon turned to the ailing Elephant party, of which she claimed membership. ‘It is our own party, but we are full of arrogance… abrƆfosƐm nkoaa…not in touch with the grassroots… they won’t pick your calls, even when you are calling to greet them…’
‘You see, the issues are many, the leaders didn’t help at all. It is as if they wanted DMB to lose. Who told the big man he can order our chiefs to stand up to greet him? Ebuuu mƆ kwraa; he has no respect for our elders.’
What else?
‘The high cost of kenkey...and the free SHS… everyday Free SHS, Free SHS, but no jobs for the kids…the only job after Free SHS is teenage pregnancy.’
‘But are we serious: seizing the bank deposits of poor retirees…. our grandmas and grandpas with meagre bank balances… that was the last straw. How do they buy their medication? It was very cruel; pushing senior citizens to breathe their last, so they could die at your feet. What kind of Government was this? Those people had no pity for the vulnerable; it’s my own party, but why should I vote? Mantow aba.’
With my ears itching, I turned to another woman, Akweley, to tell me how her family voted on the D-day.
‘There are seven of us in the family, and we all believe we are NPP. My old lady did not vote; my husband also did not vote. Of the four children of voting age, one waited till 4:30pm that day before he voted. He voted for the Umbrella. The three others did not step near the polling station at all; they just did not vote.”
What about you, Akweley?
‘Hmm, I voted DMB in the presidential.’
What of the parliamentary?
‘I chose none of them; there were three faces. Indeed I spoilt my ballot by inking the face of each candidate… get this, get that, take this… each of them got a bit of my thumb abuse. I indeed wanted the ballot rejected.’
Akweley must have used her thumb in a way that breached the public order act.
TO BE CONTINUED...