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The political sprint race about to begin

Sikaman Palava

Sikaman Palava

Elections in Sikaman are often in­teresting, especially at the primary level. It is at this level that people can vote against you because your face is too bushy.

Others will vote for you because of your American haircut or your Ara­bic moustache which has been jer­ry-curled.

A delegate will cast a vote against you simply because he feels you are too fond of eating kokonte at ‘CHOP BETTER’ chop bar. He might not realise that your addiction to kokonte is like an addiction to cocaine and even if you become a head-of-state you cannot resist facing the wall.

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• Elections in Sikaman
• Elections in Sikaman

At the primaries, you are given the passport to hell. Getting elected can be pretty easy, but given the nod can induce palpitation because it places a huge burden on your head. First, you must start looking for cash. You’ll start estimating the value of the cocoa farm your father left behind when he passed away.

Or will a foreign loan do?

Whatever it is, Ghana politics can­not be ran on an empty back pocket. You must budget for palm wine for the folks who’ll double as your foot-sol­diers; organisers of canopies and those who buy you ‘waakye’ and ‘pure-wa­ter’. They form the core of your utility staff. They are a necessary evil.

SQUASH

Naturally, some people won’t take palm wine. It doesn’t kick them! To then palm wine is softer than orange squash. So you have to budget for ‘ak­peteshie’ better known as ‘kele’. You must apportion money for hot kenkey and plenty of fish, because you’ll be advised that when you give somebody ‘ogoglo’, you better follow it up with food.

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Your budget must include funeral donations, outdooring gifts, payment of school fees of people who irritate you, just to get the votes of their par­ents. When you put pen to paper and add money for courting floating voters and incidentals, you’ll start consider­ing whether it was worth entering the race.

The problem with it is that, once you have entered as an aspiring MP there is no U-turn. You can’t go and tell your constituents that based on your calculations you have decided to chicken out. You just don’t have the cash to finance your campaign so it is better to quit than face disgrace. That will not be.

OPTION

The option available is to seek a money lender and promise him that when you win, you’ll make him the Minister of Finance. And if he is stupid enough to believe it, then you are a goner.

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The politicking becomes more inter­esting when you get to the presidential level. The problem with every politi­cian is that he (or she) has ambitions to become president one day either through providence or by mistake.

So the scramble to the nation’s top post can become quite frantic, because all manner of people keep day-dream­ing and fantasising about becoming president although they know somehow that it is impossible.

Getting to the top has nothing to do with fantasy. It takes hard-work to accomplish, aside all the other factors like charisma, financial support, pow­erful manifestoes and even political gimmicking.

When the Peoples National Conven­tion (PNC) held its congress, I fondly remembered Dr. Limann. He used to carry his campaign message by putting it on the lips of his countrymen. “Any challenger, no challenger! Dr Limann, no challenger.”

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His supporters added spice to it: ‘Any challanga, no challanga, Dr. Limann, no challanga!’ Others in his team adopted the Jimmy Carter booster, “Jimmy who? Jimmy Carter!” Some newspapers carried it: “Li who? Limann!” And Limann won to kick start the third republic.

Soon Flt Lt. Jerry Rawlings start­ed eyeing the castle seat with keen interest. He had earlier warned Dr Limann to squat well on the stool and to do some house-cleaning. Dr. Limann agreed but soon forgot all – about the Jerry Rawlings accord, and – before Jack Robinson came to mind, the stool of power was wrestled from under his buttocks.

Today, Limann is no more. May his soul rest in peace. His political legacy is in the palms of Dr. Edward Mahama, a brilliant doctor turned politician. His ‘two sure two direct’ slogan caught on quite well as he appealed to the Zongo communities to rally to the PNC call.

Last Saturday, he became one of the men to have been elected three times to lead the party to the polls. It means his people have confidence in him. With his victory at congress comes the era of Kofi Wayo, the rapping-ma­chine who knows how to blow his own horn, because nobody will blow it for him anyway.

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He has brought a hint of American politicking into the game and clinched 185 votes at congress, far less than Dr. Mahama. And he says he was very surprised to get that much. He had thought he would only get about 45. Surely, he’ll be made the flag bearer’s running mate and we can all expect fireworks as usual.

PRESSURE

The overall political temperature is rising gradually. Alliances are being discussed and forged. Those who have won primaries are busy developing high blood pressure. Others have already started having running stomachs. The excitement is rising day after day as the NPP and NDC warm up for the con­test of the decade. All the parties have elected their flag bearers.

What Ghanaians are praying for is peace. They value it because it is pre­cious. Politics is a game, not guerilla warfare. While campaigning on plat­forms, politicians should preach peace alongside their manifestoes.

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What brings conflict? It is the tongue. If you mount a platform and start insulting political opponents, certainly that isn’t politics. It is simply war-mongering. Sometimes, it starts via the airwaves and it is carried to the platforms.

What the people want to hear is not how foolish you think your opponents are, but what you think you can do for dear Ghana. For once, let us forget about our opponents and preach the gospel of what we can do, for which reason we want the endorsement of the people of Sikaman.

This article was first published on Saturday, June 5, 2004

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Prostitution in Sikaman -1

• Prostitution is more pliable on mobile phones and E-mails
• Prostitution is more pliable on mobile phones and E-mails

Apart from money-based church business and armed robbery, prostitution must be the next most lucrative private enterprise in Sikaman. It is normal­ly organised as a sole proprietor­ship and not as a limited liability company.

In some cases, it is a partnership between a prostitute and a pimp who knows he is destined for hell, anyway.

Sikaman Palava
Sikaman Palava

‘Sikaman Palava’ investigations have lots to reveal about the flesh trade. Contrary to opinions that the business is dying out, it is rath­er booming and mobile phones and E- mail services are making it more pliable.

It all points to the fact that some prostitutes are in a class of their own. The clients are top shots and expatriates who have ‘dough’, executives who want the service in style, with all the champagne airs, a little perversity here, a bit of sadism there to intensify sexual gratification.

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The fact is that some of the big guns are tired of having sex with their wives. Some claim the women are not what they used to be. After one or two children, they simply bloat, develop flabby breasts, and lose the shape that used to turn their husbands crazy. So there must be a search for new cargo. But the big man cannot go after ‘meat’ in the streets. He must distinguish himself in the sinful venture, and if that means going to hell, so be it.

It has come to the realisation of some high profile prostitutes that their peculiar brand of prostitution is in high demand by high paying clients. So they make themselves available on ‘mobile. The client only has to dial a number and she is booked.

“You can’t get me before 9pm. I’ll fix you for 9:30 pm till thy kingdom come. I’ve got a new style to outdoor tonight I hope you don’t get a heart attack. As you know, it can be quite hectic sometimes.”

“See you at 9:30 then. I’m al­ready getting a hard-on.”

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CANDLELIGHT

Some prostitutes indeed deliver in style. They can cook the best of meals and serve in the glow of can­dlelight, light music floating from the back ground. The romantic atmosphere is quite irresistible and the client is delighted. He laughs like a fool.

In a more elaborate setting, he must submit to a lather bath and massage with health-oils. When he is through, he is relaxed. A glass of champagne loosens his appetite. Two tots of Alomo heightens his libido, but he must be patient. In the hands of an experienced pros­titute, you indeed must be patient, lest you stumble and fall.

The sex act itself can vary de­pending on the taste of the client, his orientation, his occupation, level of intelligence or stupidity. Everything counts. Other factors to consider is the weirdness of the character of the particular client. Is he perverse? What about unnat­ural sex; sodomy? Fellatio and cun­ninlingus? Very frightening terms. Sadism or masochism?

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A whole successful businessman worth millions of dollars is seen naked with a chain around his neck like a licensed dog.

He is dragged about in a room by a lousy prostitute who gives him orders to bark “Wow! Wow! Wow!”

It is all part of the sexual gim­mick. Sometimes, the man is flogged with a belt; that’s the only way he can become aroused. And when he is through after satisfy­ing himself sexually, he pants for breath. “Jesus Christ! Deliver me!”

The bill is outrageously high. A quick cheque settles it though and the client is led to his car. At home, he tells his wife, “The meeting today was very hectic. They just wouldn’t understand my point of view, I had to leave pant­ing at the end of it.’

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EXPERIENCE

A prostitute who handles high-profile clients are normally trained overseas where they also gain experience. When they are getting older, they come back home and set up. They are still attractive, curvy, not too bad vital statistics.

They have their own houses, cars and a houseboy who knows how to shut his beak. Occasionally, he is given a sexual treat by Madam and he wonders whether heaven is not right here on earth.

The next class of prostitutes are the freelancers. They may look gaudy, boosy and wandering. They may target motorists. After a lift and a nice chat, they can offer to give the wealthy-looking driver some manipulation of his organ while he is still driving, quite a dangerous undertaking.

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If the driver doesn’t end up in a ditch or hits an electric pole when climaxing, then he is likely to wind up in the sea. Often, nothing hap­pens, though. The lady is dropped off, the man gets home and rea­lises that his wallet full of foreign currency and cedis is nowhere to be found. It is a lesson to be learnt the hard way.

This kind of prostitute may even take a client to a hotel. She chats and drinks with the wealthy client who wants to go and ‘wee wee’. In his absence the prostitute drops a little something in his drink. He is back, takes a long one down his throat. In 15 minutes, he can be seen lying prostrate, snoring pow­erfully.

The prostitute dresses up quick­ly, takes the loot from the man’s brief- case and exits. Thousands of dollars and pound sterling together with travellers’ cheques gone for good. These types are in town. Get wary of them, till we meet next week for the sequel.

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The Prophet part 4

Antobam woke up with a terri­ble headache. He checked the time on his mobile phone, 2:30 am. “What! Where is the money?” He asked aloud. “Where are those girls? Why did I drink so much of that whisky? What were those two girls up to?” He sat up on the bed and noticed a bulge close to the pillow.

He lifted the mattress and picked up the newspaper wrappers with the neatly arranged notes. He saw the neatly written record of the value of the notes. No, those girls are not thieves.

“It was my mistake. If I hadn’t drank myself to sleep they would be here in bed with me, giving me the time of my life. Pretty girls, those two. And so loyal and honest. Tomorrow will be different.”

“I will not drink any whisky, and I will show them that I am a real man. Just then he heard the whis­pers. Very soon it will be time, they seemed to be saying. This is an important day.”

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The gold dealer will bring lots of money. Give him some of the liquid to drink, and we will prepare him. He will do very big business, and he will give you anything you ask for. There will be more miracles and testimonies today.

Antobam smiled to himself. “I am going to be a very rich man in only a few days man. Money, power, and women. Wow! Antobam got to the grounds at 5, but there were quite a number of people waiting.

Mr Kwame Dofu was among them. He greeted them all, and they came around to shake his hand. “My brothers and sisters, I assure you that whatever your problem is, you will not go home without a solu­tion.” Shouts of “Amen” “thank” you Osofo and “you are a true man of God” responded.

“Please take your seats, and start talking to the great one about what­ever bothers you. Before the service is over, there will be a solution.” He waved Mr Dofu over, and went with him to the wooden structure that serves as a temporary office.

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“My brother, I have done quite a lot of work on the issue you came to see me about. I have prepared a special, powerful package for you. Take this, drink it, and go back to your business. I want to see you in two weeks.”

Beaming with smiles, Mr Dofu drank the foul smelling liquid in two gulps, said a big thank you to Anto­bam and took his leave. “I believe you, Papa Osofo. And I assure you that I will reward you, big time.”

Just when Osofo Antubam finished with Mr Dofu, Mary and Suzzie went over to him. “Good Morning ladies. I am very sorry about yesterday. I drank too much of the stuff you gave me. Today will be different, I assure you.”

“Don’t worry, Osofo. Since you are now setting things up, our main concern now is to help you to put things in place, and to make you comfortable. We are always there to serve you. This morning, Osofo, we want to go and clean up your place, and prepare something nice for you when you close.

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And before coming to church, we will pass by the bank and collect the forms. After you have signed them, the account will be open. You can check the payments anytime and, of course, issue cheques whenever you need money.”

“Suzzie and Mary, I am happy I picked the two of you from the very start. Listen, I will take good care of you, okay? Here is some money. Buy whatever you need for the errands you have mentioned.

And here is the key. Please come back as early as you can. You know I need you here.” The service was very lively. The lively singing of praise songs was followed by one and a half hours of testimonies.

Most of them related to money – big sales, new jobs and overdue debts paid. But there were also testimonies about healing. Barren women had taken seed, and, of course, several men who had lost their bedroom authority had re­gained them, to the delight of their partners.

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As he had promised, Antobam preached for only 30 minutes, ex­horting the congregation to attend church regularly, pay their tithes and offerings, and strictly follow his ‘directions’ for securing solutions to their problems.

After another round of prais­es during which the congregation danced to the floor to drop their offering, he closed the service, grabbed the big bowl which was full to the brim with money, and moved to his desk. A long queue was quick­ly formed at the desk.

Meanwhile, Mary and Suzzie had gone to give Antobam’s place quite a decent look. A new bedsheet and pillows, a secondhand carpet and four plastic chairs placed in the verandah had done the trick.

They also prepared two fish and chicken stews. After all these, they rushed to the National Savings Bank and collected application forms for opening current and savings ac­counts.

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They joined the service a few min­utes before the main session closed. Antobam looked round and saw, to his relief, Mary and Suzzie moving towards him. “Hello ladies. What have you been up to?” “Quite a bit, Osofo. We’ve just collected your drink. Here you are. We’ve made a few changes at your place. I think you will like it. You will also have something nice to eat. Now, here are the forms for the savings and current accounts.

If you will sign them, the bank will open the account. From today, we can pay all monies direct into the account.” ‘How can I thank you, ladies?” “You don’t need to thank us,” Suzzie said. “It is our duty to help a man of God succeed.” “Okay, my ladies, please take the offerings and count them as you did yester­day.

You can add the payments made after the consultations. Will it be possible to pay them into the account today?” “Yes,” Mary said. “The bank closes at four. If we leave here at three, we would be there just in time.”

The two friends started counting, as Osofo Antobam gave his clients his directions for solving their prob­lems. On quite a few occasions he closed his eyes as if he was receiv­ing direction from above on what to do.

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But as the fetish priest at the Nana Kofi Broni shrine and the dwarfs had assured him, the solu­tions would certainly be provided. Having heard the huge testimonies earlier in the day, the clients parted with substantial sums of money in expectation.

By Ekow de Heer

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