Yeah, Amphibian Brains

As seen on the Independence Avenue today. Awful driver; but what's new?

Amankwatia, Gallant General of Asante

Chief of Bantama and General of the army of Asantehene, Kofi Karikari (misspelt Koffee KalKalli* by Major-General Garnet Wolseley) Amankwatia was hailed as a great military strategist and deeply feared by the vassal States of Asante and the free States surrounding the empire.

Research into historical accounts mention an Amankwatia from as early as 1715, who led an Asante army to wipe out an Aowin army in the Asante_Aowin war. Another Amankwatia is thought to have led an Asante army in an indecisive victory over the Akyem and Akwapem in 1814.

Amankwatia (the Bantamahene) designed, planned and executed the last great stand of the Asante at the village of Amoaful against the advancing British Army of Major-General Garnet Wolseley in the Third Anglo-Ashanti War. The Battle of Amoaful itself did not last much more than 24 hours on 31 January 1874.

The British won (and the Asante lost) the Battle of Amoaful. Some (perhaps questionable) British accounts have it that the biggest havoc in the British ranks was caused by bad air (malaria) and yellow fever, but in the Battle of Amoaful every fourth British soldier was hit by the heavy Asante fusillade.  

You see, the Asante chose forest cover and ridges overlooking bogs (through which the British had to wade) as their battle stands. Amankwatia is credited with such clever calculation. What advantage the British had in heavy armament and superior rifles the Asante countered with far superior numbers (no wonder between 2000 and 3000 of them were either injured or killed). The British soldiers for a long time came under heavy gunfire from people they could not see.

After the defeat of the Asante, many chiefs (generals) were counted among the dead, including Amankwatia. Although Wolseley was happy to refer to King Koffee Kalkalli as a “wily savage”, he allowed his fellow general Amankwatia the following tribute: “The great Chief Amanquatia was among the killed, and the King of Mampon was wounded, while many other chiefs bit the dust. Admirable skill was shown in the position selected by Amanquatia, and the determination and generalship he displayed in the defence, fully bore out his reputation as an able tactician and gallant soldier.”

*To be fair, Wolseley was likely misled by locals who interchanged the sound of L and R liberally.

Nice to Meet You, Bless...

... and where's your brother, Curse?

The Presidential Debate

A presidential debate

We watched with breath abate

By just before midnight

We’d found the leading light

We'd confirmed a certain two

Were just as we knew

As for the other bloke

Oh what an utter joke

A Reason Not To Shake Hands

Pretty woman in my rear view; in the spotless, silver Corolla; digging deeply in your nostrils; checking out what you produce. You're the reason I don't look back often enough. When the traffic moved along, it took you ten seconds to note; you were balling up your goo.

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Open Barbecue in the City of Accra

In broad daylight, last Friday, on the ceremonial street at animated Nima, Birdie and I saw a group of muscled men singeing a whole cow-carcass with a blow torch and scorching the pavement black.
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Vacuity!!!

2012! It bewilders me, and I cannot say which vexes me more – the superstitious teachers or the benighted varmint. The ones have zilch to teach because they need a lamp too. The others are a stupendously sorry sight: ignorant, petty, perishing, future-less. 

How I Stumbled Upon Blogging

In 2008, Accra was a jaded jamboree. I preferred to float in bed and fantasise about far-flung frolicsome places. I had happened on ‘personal websites’ without knowing their sexy name - blog. Then, my friend, Sandra, introduced me her blog.  I was besotted three times over. A poet in hibernation, I dusted off my skills and became a seeker of ‘second sight’: that hallowed ‘hang’ to see extraordinary sights in everyday scenes. To experience and describe Accra’s rich, deep and colourful layers of sights, sounds, smells and tastes in a unique way. Blogging has given me a novel, vibrant city that’s all my very own.

A Toyota, No Doubt!

He fixed it there, just so you're doubly sure it's a Toyota!

The Fluid Traffic Lights in the City of Accra

I've heard it said about prisons, mental-health institutions and toilets. Now I add traffic lights. You can tell how civilised a country is by how its drivers mind the traffic lights (and traffic circles).

Five or six years ago, a friend and I saw a Nigerian businessman do a jaw-drop when visiting Accra for the first time. "They actually obey the lights?" He asked. He said the lights were useless décor back in his country. We had a sneaky suspicion that he was self-deprecating too hard.

That kind Nigerian gentleman; he visited five years too soon. Every morning at the Regimanuel traffic lights on the Spintex Road, I barely hang on to dear life after three 'Hail Marys' and four near misses.

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