Features
Big catch – Part
A big catch
I was very confident that I was about to hit the big time financially. I resigned my job with Lever Brothers, and was well rewarded for my ten years loyal service. In addition to starting my own publishing firm, I had also invested my earnings in a fishing venture, after my friend Pa John had advised that it was very profitable.
Knowing that the publishing business would start providing returns after three years, I was prepared to work hard to succeed, with the assurance that the fishing investment would take care of my needs. Pa John, in addition to being a Project Manager at the Agricultural Bank, had also invested in the business, and assured my that I would receive decent earnings very regularly.
His boat was as big as mine, but he chose the long voyage type of fishing, his crew going out for three weeks at a time, while I chose the short, one-day type.
He assured me that my nets were better than his, because they caught both medium sized fish like tuna and cassava fish, as well as sharks. He introduced me to Kofi Prakor, the Chief Fisherman at Tema New Town, who helped me recruit a crew of eight. With everything secured, I started out with such great hopes that I asked my fiancee, Sabina, who had just finished National Service, to manage the business for some time, and apply for a job if she wanted. I was so sure that with money about to roll in, she would prefer to take care of the business that spend time in an eight-to-five job that would pay very little at the end of the month. Moreover, she did not need to do much. She only went early in the morning to ensure that all their supplies were set, and returned home when they set off. She returned about four in the evening to supervise the sales, give them their due and go home with the money.
But one year on, we had very little to show for the investment. Apart from Sabina’s monthly salary and the fish which she took home, there was virtually nothing by way of profit, and I had started digging into my savings. I discussed this with Pa John, and he suggested that i meet with the crew and talk things over, and let them know that I would have to take some drastic action if things did not change.
If, Pa John said, there was no improvement, then he would assist me to recruit a new crew. It was certain that the current crew were up to some tricks. But before I could even have the meeting, Sabina came home and dropped the bombshell.
‘Yooku, we’ve been together for two years, but things don’t seem to be going well. Your publishing business will not bring any earnings until after two years, at the very least, and the fishing investment appears to be a waste of time. I go there twice a day, and come home with virtually nothhing. I have been trying to help, but frankly I don’t like the environment at the fishing harbour. And my parents are worried that one year after my National Service, I don’t have a job, and my involvement with you doesn’t seem to show any good prospects. So Yooku, even though I am very fond of you, I want us to end the relationship. I am really sorry. If it will help you, I will ask my friend Tamara if she is willing to come in temporarily until you find someone. She is not working, so she will appreciate the little you can give her’. As I sat dumbfounded, she got up and left.
The following morning Tamara called, and I went over and discussed the business. She was interested in the job, which surprised me because she was quite an elegant girl. I said I would try to offer her a better salary as soon as things improved, but she shook her head. ‘Yooku, I know the situation on the ground, but I also like a good challenge. Let’s go to the fishing harbour, meet the crew and talk to other boat owners, and see how we can change things’. ‘I am very grateful, Tamara’.
A week after she started, Tamara called one afternoon, very excited. ‘Yooku, are you in the office? I will be there in an hour. I have something interesting to report’. She came, and over the next thirty minutes I sat with my mouth open as she spoke. ‘Yooku, your boat is very popular among the fisherfolk, because your net is unique, as it catches both medium and large size fish. Your crew have been playing a wicked trick on you. Everyday, they stop some distance from the landing bay, sell the bulk of the fish and bring only a small amount to the docking bay. I believe that if Sabina was just a little watchful she could have detected it. Now, it will soon be time for them to dock. Let’s take a taxi. We should be there in another hour. I want us to catch them in the act’. We hailed a taxi, and headed to the fishing harbour.
By Ekow de Heer
Features
Old folks and human suffering
The aged
Grey hair is an honour from God, says my uncle, Kofi Jogolo, whose moustache the world admires. Unfortunately, his moustache is not grey. However, my dear, uncle who is a petty bourgeoisie is greying at the temples, which according to him is a sign of wisdom, reverence and honour. To me, it is also an indication that he is gradually nearing ‘home’ to render a comprehensive account of his life to his Creator.
Indeed, the principles of accountability and probity transcend grey hairs and moustache, and wind up in St Peter’s Heaven.
Anyone who is getting close to the age of 60 can rightly claim the grey hair status. But in Sikaman for instance, to be a living member of the grey hair fraternity is a privilege and not a right. This is because the average life span of humans today is 49 years, and the average in Third World countries is much lower. Poverty alone can kill you at 27.
It is also of interest to note that journalists have the lowest average lifespan vis- a-vis other professional groups, according to a proven research.
In any case, the human species are better off than insects and animals. A mosquito lives for only six days and decides to call it quits. Most birds live for five years; and when a dog lives up to 10 years, it automatically becomes a liberal democrat. Why? Because it becomes so weak that it can no longer be a leftist watchdog of its master’s home. The poor dog becomes rather liberal to thieves and burglars.
So is it with human beings who clock 65 and above, especially when they have not eaten good for over six decades. According to the Bible, the human limit which has been divinely decreed is three score and 10, that is, 70. This appears discriminatory when we consider that Methuselah for instance lived for 969 years before agreeing to die.
CURSE
Back to Sikaman, anyone who flies past the age of 65 is considered an old- man (woman) whether he is well- nourished or takes ‘quarter’ on a regular basis.
To many, however, to be called an old person is rather a curse than a blessing. And of course nobody wants to be a pensioner for obvious reasons. So you see workers who are clearly over 70 years claiming to be 50 just to avoid retirement and its associated money palaver. But somehow, they are justified.
Fact is that, these days, nobody cares for the aged, and so they have to care for themselves. It was the quest to avoid this unfortunate situation that the HelpAge Ghana was formed last year as a voluntary organisation aimed at promoting the well-being of the aged and ageing in Sikaman.
When the second HelpAge Week was launched last weekend, I felt so sad to see on television, old men and women, some of whom could hardly work their rickety heels to help themselves about. Some really had to be assisted to walk.
HelpAge has come so timely, at a time when no one respects or cares for the aged. In times’ past, old folks were regarded as useful members of the society, imparting knowledge and wisdom to the younger generation, telling Ananse stories to enliven the evenings of little children.
But today, old people are regarded as nuisance. They are accused of being talkatives, always complaining of kooko, waist-pains, constipation, diarrhea, chronic catarrh and lack of good diet.
Their physical and mental infirmities associated with senescence, coupled with the high cost of fending for them, makes them unwanted in a rat-race society where man must live by sweet.
Some people really want their aged relatives to die quickly to relieve them of the burden of caring for them. They can’t afford to be feeding them every day like that! So unfortunate.
PROBLEMS
In the developed countries, however, because of problems that go with caring for the elderly in society, homes for the elderly are established in many communities, where the aged can live comfortably to enjoy their last days on earth. They are cared for, nourished and entertained.
In fact, there is a branch of medicine called GERONTOLOGY which is concerned with the processes of growing old, and there is what we call (GERIATRICS) which is the medical care of old people. Scholars are specialise in these fields because their society cares for the welfare of the aged.
HelpAge Ghana is a laudable idea and Sikaman natives must be awakened to their responsibility to the elderly. Those who also handle their pension claims must avoid the unnecessary delays. I remember, my old man had to go up and down for months before he was put on his rightful scale.
Now, instead of wishing our aged mothers, fathers and grand-parents to die so that we can get enough money to drink beer, let us contribute to HelpAge Ghana to get it firmly instituted.
That way when we are lucky to reach the three score and ten mark, we could also benefit from it. No one knows what the future has in store.
Sometime last year, I was privileged to attend a get-together of pensioners of UAC and management staff at the Ambassador Hotel. I am not a pensioner though. It was quite an interesting scene to see old men and women all over chatting animatedly, and reminiscing their good old days.
I was also quite impressed with how some of them attended to the gin, brandy and beer at the reception.
In contrast to this, it is so pathetic to see many old people in the capital of Sikaman begging for money to buy kenkey. They look dirty and unkempt carrying aloft their grey hairs. Let us find a means of helping out these elderly folks so that when our turn comes the good old Lord will have mercy upon us.
This article was first written was on Saturday October 6, 1990
Features
The anxiety of parents
I had a call from my daughter and addressing me in her rather unusual but affectionate way, by my official name as usual, she greeted me and asked about how I was doing and I responded and we exchanged the usual pleasantries.
Then her next statement caused my heart to start pounding. She said “Daddy, I am going out on a date.” This is one of the moments every parent becomes filled with anxiety. It is just like when your adult child comes to tell you that “I have met someone I would like to marry”.
I then started asking about when she met him, how long she had known him etc. Then she said “Daddy, I am just pulling a prank on you” and I heaved a sigh of relief. Every parent will tell you that one of their fears is who their children will marry in future.
Fear of the unknown, is the issue that brings the anxiety. Will this man be a good husband to my daughter? Is there a terrible hereditary disease in his family? What are his parents like and would they be caring in-laws to my daughter etc. etc.
Most parents do not worry too much when their child is a man as opposed to a female child. Furthermore, boys do not bring pregnancy home so if they go out and come home late, parents do not worry too much compared to when Maggie or Agatha or Lucy goes out and comes home late.
Our culture makes it easier for men to opt out of relationships so parents do not worry too much when a male children come to introduce their would-be spouses to them and there is no need to add that spouse here refers to a female, since our culture does not tolerate the insane antisocial behaviour affecting some societies including African ones.
Marriage must be between a male and a female, a man and a woman, as God who instituted and ordained it. The girls fall in love easily compared to the boys who mostly walk into love. I have not conducted a survey but I strongly believe that females suffer from heartbreaks more than males because of their emotional nature.
Another dimension to this anxiety of parents is the issue of mental problems which in some instances can lead to suicidal tendencies. Mental cases resulting from mental breakdowns abound in our communities and the victims are mostly female.
A woman I met while walking with a friend was a victim of a mental breakdown. The friend I was walking with, exchanged pleasantries with the said lady and it was apparent that they knew each other very well.
My friend, after we had parted company with the woman, narrated how her husband was engaged in womanising which compelled the woman to take a revenge on him.
She decided that the best way to also hurt her husband’s feelings was to have an affair with the husband’s driver. The affair became known to the husband and she was divorced. The dress she was wearing and her general appearance when we met her on the street showed clearly that all was not well mentally with her.
It was so sad and as a parent I started praying into the future of my children that they would get the right partners, God-fearing people to marry.
Another anxiety of parents is the character of their children’s life partners. Would they be kind people? Will they be people with bad tempers? Will they be wife beaters?
Domestic abuse is common in our society and you will be surprised at the calibre of the perpetrators. Some are well educated people, nicely dressed, when you meet them in public places you will never suspect that they are wife beaters.
Some are even pastors and yet they ignore the teachings of the Bible and maltreat their spouses. It is not only men who abuse their spouses but some women are abusers as well.
May God grant us and our children the gift of spirit of discernment so our children will make the right choices for us to also endorse.
By Laud Kissi-Mensah