Ghana’s Crude Oil & the Dutch Disease

Hmm, the World Bank – not quite the world’s bank – is saying it believes Ghana’s mining and cocoa industries are so well-managed and well-established that they will not be hurt by the emergence of - and focus on - crude oil.

After all these years, the World Bank – not quite the world’s bank – does not understand the Ghanaian culture where novelty gets all the time, attention and money, while old glamour loses all its gloss. Oil & Gas is already the only leading buzz-phrase in Ghana, no?

Shall we count how many times the World Bank – not quite the world’s bank – has been hopelessly wrong in its reading of the economy, culture, pulse and climate of an emerging economy? Dig in, then, for we’ll be here till Christmas in 2011.

(Picture Credit - Tehrantimes.com)

The Rape of the Snob

So I was ‘radaring’ for ‘bloggable’ material last night when a Ghanaian movie ‘brought itself’. It was raw, reeking rubbish. A village snob of a woman was taught a lesson by a young lecherous lout through the imperious instrument of rape.


He went unpunished and was even glorified by the girls, while she suffered a drop in social slot. What warped wanton wicked moral was that? Must she be shamed that way because she's a snob? 
Rubbish rubbish movie.

(Picture credit - sexandlasgidi.com)

Diplomatic Passports

What kind of passport is diplomatic? It is issued by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to diplomats, high-ranking officials, members of the parliament and persons travelling on official state business.

Therefore, I was shocked out of my little body to discover that governments had – over the years – issued diplomatic passports to religious leaders.



As far as I am concerned – somebody please educate me if I’m wrong – there are hardly any clergymen continuously involved in central government business to warrant a diplomatic passport for them.

What, are they going to see the pope, some archbishop or patriarch to help solve Ghana’s economic problems?

Now the diplomatic passports are going to be withdrawn from 375 government ‘dysfunctionaries’. Ghana – non-diplomats travelling with diplomatic passports. Wasting money. I pay my taxes – do you hear me – I pay my taxes. So y’all don’t go acting like big men travelling on undeserved perks on my taxes and those of others!

(Picture credit - cafepress.co.uk)

Staircase Busy

These people never learn.
After the Elevator fiasco
(see post below)
they put this sign, today,
right in front of the same elevator.


Plus, I really wonder what kind of meeting
the staircase was having? 
Or was it watching tv?


(I swear I did not stage this).

Are you Going Up or Up?

On the 2nd level 
of the building 
I work in,
the elevator seems 
to go only up!


(some dumb workman
placed the lower button
upside down after maintenance!)

I’m Tired of the Music in the City of Accra

I have always told critics of ‘senseless’ music to shut up. Music, movies, art – whatever kind of entertainment – does not always have to make sense, edify, educate or be loaded with lessons. It can be thrilling, fun, emotive, escapist for its own sake. But...

But now I am tired. There’s no originality. We’re singing about boobs and booty and sex – with euphemism or not – and unwittingly confirming certain unfair, untrue, bigoted and wicked racial(ist) stereotypes. Mtcheew.

This Christmas – Dear Lord – please let me stumble upon 1 hiplife music video without push-up bras, shirts worn as dresses, shorts only big enough for cartoon characters, scary hair-dos, and tin swinging chains. I stop my request here or they will build a stairway to heaven.

Accra - Stunning as the Crow Flies

Sunday evening was magical if you gazed up in the City of Accra. The golden hologram disc of sun threw no rays – just a yellow glow; wrapping up the sky in an ecru crepe. But street-level surveillance was different – dirt, wrappers, leftover food and polythene everywhere. Accra may be gorgeous as the crow flies – thanks to nature – but what about the streets?

Ghana’s Best Leader(s)

I hallow history – all my ‘peeps’ know that. But when the news for one week is about the best government in Ghana since ’57 – whose was and whose was not – I get sick. If we could solve today’s problems by giving bragging rights to leaders from the past, then Election 2012 should be a contest between – let's see, which of them still alive today – Rawlings and Kufuor. Other politicians can go to sleep kodeeeeeee. Mtcheew.

My Mpotompoto Mind

Accra’s traffic is musk from a skunk on normal days, but the pre-Christmas traffic should make us all get a sanity exam. We have kept Ghanablogging meetings going for 2 years. We are not bored yet, but can you – if you’re not a blogger – suggest what you’d like to see bloggers in Ghana blog about with one voice? Are public hospitals in Ghana as high on professionalism as Lister Hospital? A-holes with ‘big’ cars in Accra avoid the traffic jams by driving in the oncoming lane and waving vehicles to get out of their way. How much will the clergy make in private gifts this Christmas? If they were taxed, wouldn’t it give Ghana enough money to improve education or health or roads?

Monkeys Dancing in T-Shirts

I rarely lose my way – or deliberately foray – into politics, but, sometimes, you cannot ignore visions of monkeys dancing on your nose.

In one of his earliest presidential speeches, the very-English-named president – John Evans Mills – tripped every step and said “ecomini” for “economy”. He was taunted for a while, and then it went away – or, did it?

There have always been rumours – there is an upsurge lately – that the leading opposition politician has dabbled in narcs and psychedelic substances. He ignored these for a long time until he felt compelled to deny it recently. One thought it had gone away – but had it?

This week, monkeys have come out dancing on every Ghanaian’s nose. T-shirts have appeared in town with “ecomini” printed on them. If it was a great commercial idea by some business man monkey, then other business men monkeys have come out with “1960s Funky Weed Days” T-shirts.

What can I say? Sooooooscket!

Laurent Gbagbo – Bush, Crazy Child

Musical chairs. Enfant terrible wriggles his way to the final. When the music suddenly stops, Enfant Terrible is still standing; stunned second. He bawls out to his family, who come to karate-kick the poor winning child off the champion’s chair. Now, Enfant Terrible is perched on the seat. He feels supremely stupid in his skin, but pretends to have retained a speck of self-dignity. Urchin. Vermin. Bush crazy child. Why did not his mother terminate the pregnancy?

Ghana’s 2010 Memorials

2010 has wickedly whizzed by, before our best-laid plans have got grip. If you were quizzed about Ghana’s most memorable moments in this low-yield year, what would you venture? To make matters murkier, let’s exclude football’s fascinating World Cup.

The 5 Which = Me

Well, I was asked this question with the line (a little harmless self-promotion)


Cute


Funny


Creative


Articulate


Kind



What are your 5 best qualities?

Little Litterer Learns

A little girl stood at the edge of the road, holding her father’s hand. Her brother sat on a high bench behind them. It was 7 am, and she was eating from a polythene bag. When she was done, she sneaked her hand behind her. I imagined what she was about to do. As it turned out, her father guessed too. She dropped the bag on the ground. Quick as lightning, her father rapped her on the head. It was a healthy, disciplinary clobbering delivered through her ‘fro. He scolded her and asked her to ‘pick it up’. That was a happy morning for me.

Medofo Pa

Oh Kojo Antwi, you made me cry this morning. In the thick traffic panic, I was seized by your poetry; emotions got clogged, eyes let go, as I sang along with a quivering voice.

Se ofiri adwuma eeba’a, mede amirika n’ebeko akohyia no, na ma ye no awawa tuu. Odo yewu w’aba aa tenase, na me nhwe w’aniwamamu, eno n’ema me awerekyekyere, me hu wo aa na me no ete me, ah odo yewu ee.

Dayum, I’m smitten.

Odo ni ho aa, medaa enda ... Odo ni ho aa, eni nsuo nkoaa ...

November

As November scampers by

And December’s wind is nigh

I think back to January

And this year’s changes in me

Mid year’s emotional meltdown

And how I learned to lose my frown

Learning to love myself again

Dealing with last year’s piercing pain

As November flies away

I’ve no real regrets today

Breast-Slapping in the City of Accra

Office Female #2 said at lunchtime today that she was in a trotro 7 years ago, when a suckling baby decided that its mother's breast was not the solution to its crying. The choosy baby disengaged without warning, causing the milk to squirt freely over other passengers' shoulders onto Office Female #2's sparkling shirt. She says she was more upset by the smell than the stain (she says the smell of breast milk is not adult-friendly). Well, what did she do to mother and baby? Nothing. But she felt like slapping the baby quiet, and then slapping the offending breast back into the baby's mouth!

Cheer-Me-Up Music

Musica comprimida - Compressed Music
When life is just not ticking well for me, and I think music will provide the missing beat, I don't listen to only one genre. I hop from hip hop to hip life to country to soft rock to lover's rock, to jazz to classical. Then I get bored and find the 'clock' elsewhere.

700

For the first time, I missed the milestone. I put up my 700th blog post today.

I'm feeling mellow about it all.

But thank you dear readers for coming for the ride.

<3

6 Things I'm Looking Forward to This Weekend

The creative-writing workshop on Saturday

Hanging out with Lil Girl each day

Hanging out with MsUnderstood on Saturday

Nani's birthday on Saturday

Writing Ch. 4 of my open secret

Sleeping in the daytime on Sunday