The Failure of the Cashless Society in Ghana

Money is dangerous ... to carry. You could lose it, or lose your life over it, right? So the Bank of Ghana introduced a debit card that you could ‘load with your money’ and use for all transactions. Ain’t that cute? But it failed.

Why did it fail? Culture!

Many years ago in Europe, the currency was gold. Then bankers came up. They took in your gold  and wrote an acknowledgement on paper, and a promise to give back your gold whenever you presented your IOU. Because the IOU was backed by gold, traders accepted it as payment for goods and services. That paper evolved into cash.

After the Colonialist has taught the Ghanaian to accept paper in place of cowries or shells or cola as money, somebody gets up and says let’s now use plastic. We will put all your money on the plastic and you can pay for anything with it. I look at my wad of 1000 Cedis and wonder how you can put it all on a little plastic card. No Sire, I beg your pardon.

So the card failed. Many have one in their pocket. It’s as light as the wind and as empty as a vacuum. Next time anybody wants to change a system of doing things, let them not ignore history and culture. Smh.

(Picture Credit - Countingoncurrency.com)

We Used to Learn by Playing

In these our lands, many years ago, we used to learn by playing. Through song and dance and theatrics, we learnt what was relevant for our circumstances then. 

When the colonialists came to inflict their cut of formal education on Africa, we left the fun behind. Classrooms are rigid, sterile, solemn spaces, rewarding routine and culling creativity. The youth only disport in nursery school or after school. 

We grow up maybe smart but certainly unimaginative, uninventive, uninspired. Just for example, we have windy plains aplenty and a brilliance of nuclear sun all year, but we’re short on energy and everything else. The former colonialists are increasing the play in their learning – the way we used to do many years ago in these our precious lands.

(Picture credit - tobeworldwide.org)

When is Sexual Harassment True – Or False?

Suddenly, sexual harassment claims are flying about in the media. Each complaint is by a woman against a man. It makes one wonder many things. Is it all true? Are there so many male bastards out there? Are the women now sprouting a voice? Are the men innocent? Is the allegation of sexual harassment becoming a new tool of oppression by women against men?

Too Kind to be a Judge

What did I overhear in a court today? Rumours that the judge in a motor offences court was transferred to some backwoods because she was too lenient to a particular offender.

Fat Women with Big Baw-Taws in Ghana

“He’s very fat, and I’m also fat. I can never like him. We fat women, we don’t like fat men, we like slim men. I am not just fat, I am shapely – Coca Cola – with big baw-taws; and, in Africa, men always worry women like me.”

Say what? Fat women prefer slim men? And men always badger women with big baw-taws? Hmm. It’s a serious allegation of sexual harassment by a woman against her former boss. And she said something like what’s above on radio. I shouldn’t trifle with it.

But, seriously, are there any truths in her statement about fat-women-and-slim-men? And do men hound and harry women-with-big-baw-taws any more than slender women or women with small ‘tings’? I want full-bodied comments with big baw-taws, I beg.

Sanitizers or No-Handshakes in the City of Accra

Toyota Avensis – you know the first generation patterned after a plastic Parker pen case. I saw a sparkling, sienna-lacquered Avensis rolling along the Independence Avenue this morning. I was craving-curious to see who its cultivated handler was. You don’t like to hear this said, but it was a swain in a suit, whose mug-shot exposed where he was reared - a place without grace or finish. I was beginning to feel guilty about my prejudice when, at the Akuafo Intersection, he plunged his index finger up his nose and foraged around his nares. So, I repeat with warrant – he looked and acted like a barbarian.

(Picture Credit - zazzle.com)

Hearts and Kotoko – No Heart, No Bristles

They are no longer the prickly porcupine and humongous Oak tree they used to be. Things are the same, and yet they’re changing. The league games remain drab, humdrum – it’s more thrilling to watch an ice cube melt. However, there’s a shift. It’s like climbing the stairs upside down. Kotoko and Hearts are either at the rat’s-arse end of the table, or the building’s still wrong-way-up. Sometimes, when the Young grow, the Old should just give way to them.

(Picture Credit - myjoyonline.com)