I can't cook and I don't remember ever eating three square meals in a day. If a square meal must be a balanced diet containing all the major food nutrients - carbohydrate, protein, vitamins, dietary fibre and fats and oils, in their right quantities as we were taught in JSS, then I don't remember the last time I even had two of those in a single day. I seldom see one. Sometimes I wonder how I'm still alive. Often my entire day's combination of edibles may not equal a standard meal. I can score more points with vitamins and dietary fibre considering the amount of fruits I consume. But that's often all I eat. I don't know whether to admit it as bad eating habit or simply call it poverty. That is all I eat. My food. My medicine too. I believe so, because I haven't known illness throughout my adult life -- perhaps ten years. Or maybe fifteen. I'm not on any strict diet. I'm not a vegan. I eat what I want. Except pork, or fufu, or something that smells like too much garlic.
It is often chaos in the mornings -- since I am told that breakfast is the most important of the three. My body has embraced that theory very well that I feel half dead when I skip it. I will eat anything from 'paanoo' to biscuits, just to fuel me. Sometimes, I get the typical proper local breakfast -- porridge and milk. I love any of the cereals. What is known in Ghana as "tom brown" is my favourite. That alone can power me the whole day.
In the afternoons, it's either roasted plantain, or coconuts, or both, depending on my cedi power. I get my coconuts from small truck, just down the road from the office. I'll walk past the SSNIT building and turn right, just in front of the old Bank Of Ghana building. Welcome to the famous Takoradi Liberation Road.
On a typical weekday afternoon, you'll find at least two trucks loaded with coconuts. Each, manned by two or three young men. I love coconuts. Kube. The water and the inside. I love it. It's only one cedi and I can afford it. I'll joke that "mifi Akyemfo... " which means "I come from Akyemfo (Saltpond) -- where coconut trees far outnumber humans beings" That is something I created from nowhere. You hear it first from me. But it's just a joke. My coconut joke: tailor-made for the afternoon ritual. I don't want to be just another buyer. I want to be remembered as a friend. And I'm always not satisfied with one. I buy one, and will surely buy another. Then I'll boast that I can do three, only to surrender when they dare me.
I always cherish my time there. It seems it's always a different group everyday, because I don't meet the guys I met on Monday when I go there on Tuesday. There are always people to give you coconuts, even though their presence is not guaranteed the next day. There will be equally good guys who can get you refreshment everyday. New people each time means my joke is always new.
However, there are times I don't buy the coconuts, or joke. Those are the days that I think that the entire group, or someone in the group should be in a school classroom at that time. Wrong place at the wrong time. I won't buy from minors, and honestly, I won't hide my thought from them.
I see children between the ages nine and fifteen wielding machetes and busily selling coconuts during school hours. Sometimes it's an entire group of three, or four. When I get near them, I talk to them about the essence of education, and surprisingly, they thank me, even when I refuse to buy from them -- rather intriguing, because they never thank people who buy their coconuts. I believe they see that society doesn't care about them so much, as most 'rich people' will park their cars and order the stuff to be sent to them as they sit in the comfort of their vehicles. But how comfortable can that be?
Speaking to them, I have realized that most of the boys come from small Ahanta villages -- Beaho, Kejebir, and other small communities lying between Takoradi and Agona Nkwanta. They speak Ahanta and Fante and they love music -- of course, I could figure that one out quick. One began singing to me after he apparently had been told that I work at a radio station. He composed right in front of me. Freestyle. He sang about the smoke and sound of a speeding motorcycle and later, answered my question of why he was walking barefoot, with a song. He began to sing in Fante, saying he'll buy new slippers with his share of the day's sales.The music was interrupted when some buyers approached us. I was impressed by that kind of creativity. I wondered how well he could be raised to become. I wondered what other qualities and talents they possess, that we allow to go waste. The musician looked very dirty and unhealthy, and it amazes me how well he worked the blade on the big fruits as he would hold each with each hand at the same time.
Now what is wrong with us? In the 1950s Ghana had the 'Education Police', who were to ensure that no child of school-going-age was seen anywhere apart from school during school hours. At that time, we had massive enrollment which led to the establishment of new schools across the country. In poorer communities, education was made totally free and compulsory. More schools were built across the nation. Government sponsored students to do advanced studies in all parts of the world. That was the Accelerated Education Programme, introduced by Kwame Nkrumah in 1951. The Young Pioneers were also trained and given special skills to provide manpower for industry. The Pioneers were young people being prepared to build Africa. Government prioritized the promotion of civic education in schools. Ghana was really a shining star. What happened?
Sankɔfa. Sankɔfa. Sankɔfa.
This is the 21st century. Africa needs thinkers, not 'prayers.' We need patriots, not priests. A nation cannot develop when its people lack knowledge and skills. No child must suffer this fate. No child must be left behind. Our children must be guided to be well-positioned to be able to compete with their peers in every part of the globe. It is our responsibility. It is our duty. Every child deserves a good beginning. That is how we can assure ourselves of a brighter future. That is how we can shine again. Until then, if I don't buy coconuts, I'm angry.
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| “Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear: Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air.” |
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