everybody is
a genius.
but if
you judge
a fish
by its ability
to climb
a
tree, it will
live
its whole life
believing
that it is stupid.
Einstein
Saturday, 7 September 2013
Wednesday, 4 September 2013
a poem
the world lies before us,
vast, ugly, beautiful
yearning for those who will turn their dreams into realities.
it's the only way to make a difference
to touch people.
a poor place the world will be without dreamers
the world is them;
they make us see what is possible.
but the world reveres creators
in them we all see the God us.
dreamer or creator?
which are you?
certainly, admire the waves
but make it into a sport,
and ride the waves;
adore the bird
but make yourself and others fly too.
don't just stand and stare,
many do it.
today was yesterday's dream
someone's impossibility
another's grand breakthrough.
the world is not waiting for you.
it never will.
Only those who dare and say "Here I'm"
them the world beacons.
Sunday on the Metro
Originally posted on another blog on 09/09/2012
There
is nothing like it. It's one of man's greatest inventions: The Underground
Metro. Depending on the time of day, you'll either enjoy using it or hate it.
Sometimes you really have no choice; it's your only option. The only day I
enjoy using the Metro is Sunday: less people, cool and quite. You've the
pleasure of reading your novel without anyone starring at you in a manner that
suggests "get lost". On Sundays too you've the pleasure of simply
observing.
Today
I was at the Vatican. Not for service but just to get lost among the teeming
people who make their way there on Sundays. I enjoy the habit of finding myself
in the midst of a crowd. There is something so enchanting about it. You enjoy
the connection; I see just how like a grain in a sand the individual is; I also
share, vicariously, in the affection, kisses that couples and lovers openly
display.
I
found a quite place under one of the huge pillars at St. Peter's square to
enjoy my novel, Crime and Punishment by Dostoyevsky. I was so
absorbed in my reading that but for the intermittent outburst of applause in
acknowledgment or agreement by the congregation, I'd forgotten that Pope
Benedict was preaching. After a while I had had enough; it was time to return
home--Battistini.
We
were all enjoying the ride until suddenly we were forced to direct our vision
to a section of the speeding train where there was a heated exchange of
accusation and denial; cajoling and refusal. I saw two security men
talking at the top of their voice to this attractive young man. Whatever the
young man had done, I still don't know, but I'm guess he didn't have a ticket.
Which is one of the thrills and hazards of a Sunday ride on the Metro. A black
day for this guy. Breaking the boarding regulations! At a time I was reading Crime
and Punishment? Coincidence! After the guy had done what any sane
person in that situation would have done (i.e. resisted for while), he saw the
futility and gave up. At the next stop the security guys got him off the train.
The rest is Law.
I
found something interesting too. While the verbal exchange was going on, I
finally noticed this man who was seated not very far from me. What struck me
was that he had a beautiful black dog on his lap who also followed the incident
with keen interest. Frankly, I didn't realize it was a dog (it was so
beautifully dressed) until it growled as it tried to position itself in order
to, I think, properly take in whatever was going on. I laughed. I looked at the
guy who had been arrested and struggling to deny the charge and then I looked
at the dog one more time. I couldn't resist another urge to laugh. The whole thing
looked familiar. Deja vu? After while it clicked! The night before, I'd read The
Island of Doctor Moreau by H.G. Wells. In this novel we're confronted
with the failure of Doctor Moreau's scientific activities which involves
experimenting on turning animals into humans. The Island is a medical or
scientific community that thrives on unethical practices. On one level the
novel is a stark warning on the dangers of science without conscience. I think
it's also an oblique or satirical commentary on colonization. I've my own
problems about the way the novel ends but that's for another time. Anyway, eventually
things go awry; the animals rebel; the colonizers are killed. But one
animal in particular, the dog-man initially proved faithful to Pendrick,
the only guy who survived the disaster on that accursed Island. Ironically,
Pendrick's survival depends on lying to the animals that their boss, Dr.
Moreau, is still alive. Moreau is dead but it becomes apparent to
Pendrick that without Dr. Moreau's authoritarian laws to regulate behavior,
he'll be swept away by disorder or anarchy. So, even though Pendrick detested
Dr. Moreau, he's forced to invoke the authority or voice of the dead Dr.Moreau.
Pendrick has conscience; he knows he has lied. I think the young man on the train
knew he was lying. But whether the dog also knew I can't tell. This was the
uncanny connection I made as I looked at the lying young man and the dog
that witnessed the incident on the Metro. How true Pendrick's observation:
An animal may be ferocious and cunning enough, but it takes a real man to tell a lie
NDC EMERGENCY CONGRESS: MATTERS ARISING
Originally posted on another blog on 02/09/2012
The uttering of an utterance presupposes an
utterer,
(the thinking of a thought a thinker, the perceiving ofa perception a perceiver).
Moshe Ron (1981: 26)
Ok,
so the ndc have finally held their emergency Congress in the Garden City,
Kumasi. They displayed a great sense of political acumen by killing two birds
with one stone. Mahama got 99.5! A 100% would have been criminal, to say the
least! Kudos to the delegates. Listening to events online up here in the
Eternal City, I was impressed. I'd feel the excitement, the hustle and bustle,
the thrill and the exhilaration. The turn out was, I gather from the reports
and what friends later told me, to use ndc lexicon, "gargantuan and
unprecedented". But let no one be deceived: it takes more effort to
translate crowds into votes. That's a different ball game with its own
dynamics. Good thing though is that, the ndc is an old dog in how to win elections;
it's not a puppy!
Most
people were there to see John Mahama and Amissah Arthur for the first
time. Nonetheless, it's a moral fillip for party members who're
struggling to come to terms with the death of old Prof. They can go into this
campaign on the wings of this massive display of solidarity. On the other hand, I
believe a few npp guys went scrambling for explanations on how in the name of
the Danquah-Bush tradition the ndc could garner such a crowd in Kumasi
of all places. I almost added Dombo! It doesn't matter if they can't find a
place for the guy from the north in the great tradition. Anyway, tradition is
an invention! So, Dombo will not be too bothered with me for not adding his
name. In his weariness, he may even inquire: "How long can they stretch
the hyphen, my son?" My response: "Not too long, sir."
Now
to substance. As usual no one knew what Papa Jay had up his sleeve. Now we
know. Nothing different from his usual preachy and know it all attitude!
The guy has become so painfully predictable! To confess, I used to admire the
old man. He lost it in the manner he hounded the good Prof. Truth be told, we may not all
agree with Prof's cool attitude. But let's face it: one good turn deserves
another. If Papa Jay wouldn't have tolerated such nuisance when he was leader, how on earth did he come to the conclusion that it was right for him
to blatantly cast insinuations and innuendos on the Prof! We all know Papa Jay
is not a saint. I detest him when tries to portray himself as one. I love Papa Jay,
the sinner. God loves me not because I'm a saint but because I'm a sinner. Any
claims to sainthood in the affairs of this world is presumptuous. His speech
was simply divisive: calling young Ministers "babies with sharp
teeth." Whose teeth is sharper than his wife and Kofi Adams? He spoke
about how he overworked himself for the party during the last elections. We
must congratulate him for that. But he was disingenuous; he mentions that
precisely to subtly drive home the point that his efforts have not been
appreciated. How petty can a former president descend!
Well,
I read a news item on myjoyonline.com that said Elvis Afriyi declared he
supported Papa Jay's statement that "no work, no chop". We all agree.
That's the way things should go. But let's be objective and ask Papa J:
"Sir, how many of the people who worked for you all through your
presidency "chopped?" Hypocrisy at its best! Papa Jay and some ndc
people seem to believe that the Prof won the last elections because of Papa J.
False. I voted for the first time in my life in 2008 because I was convinced
that the Prof was the right man. It'd nothing to do with Papa Jay. I was
convinced that Prof will be be own man. He didn't disappoint. If the ndc wins the
coming elections, it will not be because Papa Jay campaigned for the party.
It'll be because of the "unprecedented" infrastructural projects that
many communities have witnessed during Mills's term. If fact, I've a feeling
that, if Papa J. joins the campaign trail, it'll be a disaster. Wait in the
scorching sun for hours to elect another ndc president for Mr. Rawlings to
publicly humiliate him?
I
believe the best speech at the Congress was given by Amissah Arthur. He
emphasized the importance of fresh ideas, new blood, and by extension, the
inclusion of babies with teeth! That's the future. Rawlings is the past. If the
supposed babies were praising Mr. Rawlings to the heavens like Kofi Adams has
never failed to do, would he have been angry with them? The youth will join the
Party because they believe they've opportunities, not because a founder has
been turned into a demigod. Although I don't admire Kwaku Baako's politics, I
like him for one thing: everything he has said about Rawlings is true.
Except, of course, when was deceived into saying the old man had foreign
accounts. His latest comment on Rawlings is apt
Papa Jay should learn from leaders like Clinton and Mandela. And even from Bush Jr. Blair, Kufour and Obassanjo.
The future is always bright for GH
John Evans Atta Mills: A Life Worth Living
Originally posted on another blog on 9/08/12
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain in midst of other woeThan ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st
'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,' ---that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know
John Keats, "Ode on a Grecian Urn"
Perhaps
Man's greatest invention is the art of storytelling. For in great literary
works we're confronted with our humanity; our tragic, comic and tragicomic
circumstances that we'd prefer not to be reminded. Through the ages, great
literary works have reminded us of our potential to rise to the heights of
nobility; to descend to depths of caricature and hypocrisy. That is why when tragedy strikes,
sometimes the best way to come to grips with the situation is to re-read your
favorite classics. That was what I did. In the immediate aftermath of Atta
Mills' death, I decided to re-read three pieces: Philip Roth's The Human
Stain, Kafka's The Trial and J.M. Coetzee's Disgrace.
Before
I proceed, I must confess that I admired the late president. He was the
reason I voted for the first time in my life in 2008. My admiration for him
stemmed from the fact the I believe that every country needs to be led by
people who have attained a certain level of education in order to give the
young ones a reason to see education as useful. I'm not unaware that education
(book knowledge, degrees) by itself means nothing. By "education" I'm
referring to "total" education that transforms character, instills a
sense of integrity and nationalism, respect for the other and a supreme
commitment to improving the quality of life in one's country without
necessarily looking for financial rewards. Also, I believe that as a
nation we need decent people in politics. Of course, people have criticized
Mills for his humility. That wasn't surprising especially in a country
where people have come to misconstrue arrogance for intelligence and wisdom;
levelheadedness for docility and acquiescence. Like all of us, he had his
faults but I believe a time will come when we'll realize that perhaps no other leader in the history of our country has achieved so much in so short a
time. When that day comes people like Sekou Nkrumah will learn some lessons of
history. Sekou Nkrumah tells us that Mills was not a great man but a good man.
Secondly, he makes the disgusting comment that even if the late Mills had died
of AIDS there was the need for us to know what killed him. I agree that we need
to know but even in the US no one can say make such unsavory remarks about a late president and walk
away without incurring the wrath of the public. It's gross disrespect to say
the least! But in today's Ghana who'll sanction him? He's an instant hero; just
as Martin Amidu! We know that when Sekou's father, Kwame Nkrumah, was
overthrown he was a labelled a criminal and a dictator. Today it has taken the
combined effort of common people to rehabilitate Nkrumah's memory. For many people,
Nkrumah was not even recognized as good man. We dare not blame Sekou if today
he can pontificate on the difference between a good leader and a great leader.
Today he is the darling politician for a cross section of our country;
yesterday he served in Mill's government. Tomorrow? Who knows? I believe we'd
criticize when we deem fit but I don't believe we've to denigrate in order to
make a point.
Now,
let me return to Roth's The Human Stain, J.M. Coetzee's Disgrace and
Kafka's The Trial. I've not regretted re-reading these novels. The
Human Stain and Disgrace have Professors as their central
characters. The Human Stain, especially, has clarified for me the
Ghanaian situation as a common human failing, displayed in our case, with
unparalleled farce. How can I forget reading comments from unlikely sources and as
diverse as the Rawlings', ex-President Kufour, Ebo Quansah of the Chronicle,
Osei Kyei-Mensah Bonsu, Ursula Owusu etc. Some key members of the NDC who
until the untimely death of Mills had been some of his most ardent
critics, albeit secretly, and leaking information to Mr. & Mrs. Rawlings
had suddenly surfaced. Unashamedly, they spoke about Mills in such improbable
encomiums, as if they didn't want to be outdone by the NPP. For a moment,
I wondered whether this was Ghana. In all this, it was the love displayed by
ordinary Ghanaians as they mourned their President that will forever live with
many. If we can garner such unity of purpose, why didn't we demonstrate
that during his life time even as we criticized him?
Roth's The Human Stain in particular has an uncanny resemblance to what has played out in Ghana during Mills' tenure and after his death. As I read the novel, I'd not help but admire the central character, Coleman Silk, "a white Jewish" classics professor in Athena College. Athena College is a microcosm of any other large society, like Ghana. For using the word spook to describe two students (ironically, it turned out they were blacks) who had consistently failed to attend classes, Professor Coleman is haunted out of the Athena on charges of racism. So determined were his detractors that other trumped up charges were leveled against him. Under such a polluted environment of racial tensions, "Simply to make [an] accusation is prove it. To hear the allegation is to believe it. No motive for the perpetrator is necessary, no logic or rationale is required. Only a label is required. The label is the motive.The label is the evidence. The label is the logic" (p.290). Any society that reaches this nadir of insanity is doomed. It excludes decent people from contributing their quota. In the midst of these concocted allegations, Coleman's singular contribution to the development of Athena College, (he launched the "revolution of quality" (p.9) which saw the appointment of young and brilliant scholars onto his staff when became dean of his faculty), was deliberately forgotten. He lived the rest of his life an embittered, angry and isolated man loved only by Faunia Farley, the 34 year-old cleaning woman of the college. Coleman and his girl friend, Faunia, are both killed in a car accident caused by Faunia's ex-husband, Les Farley. For Prof. Silk Coleman and his girlfriend, who had become pariahs, death becomes a good fortune, a salvation. "Death intervenes to simplify everything. Every doubt, every misgiving, every uncertainty is swept aside by the greatest belittler of them all, which is death" (p.290).
But
the novel's masterstroke lies in the fact, that Professor Coleman Silk who had
all along presented himself as a white Jew, the basis on which his word spook
was given a racial slant was actually black. So that, he was ironically
persecuted by his own blacks. The comical aspect of his detractors is seen when
during the funeral they attempt to speak well of the dead. Such hypocrisy!
As
I look back on the Mills presidency, I'm struck by the swiftness with which the
vociferous minority told us that the man was weak and a failure. I'm tempted to
believe that in Ghana you're fool if you don't milk the nation for your
personal benefit. Otherwise, how can we praise former President Kufour who
replicated the Mobutu style of rewarding himself with a golden chain around
his neck; traveled only God knows how many times and collected every
single travel allowance; sold Ghana Telecom; sold prime lands in Accra to
himself and his cronies; disbanded Ghana Airways and sold its landed property
at home and abroad to cronies at ridiculously low prices, etc? But the consolation
is that the vociferous radio stations and newspapers who crucified Mills even
before he died can't stop the many ordinary people who've seen improvements in
their communities during his tenure from praising him. Perhaps we need more
leaders who'll steal our resources, flaunt the ill-gotten booty in our faces on
national television, and compensate us with some HIPC toilets in our
communities. Perhaps only then will Ghanaians agree that we've made
progress in the 21st century. Until the HIPC funds begin to trickle in again,
let's trudge on and say "Rest in Peace", Atta Mills.
Prof,
some of your worst critics have been students you thought Law at the
university. Not the criticism but the manner of criticism was most abhorring.
Could your stoical and nonchalant attitude to the unwarranted attacks on your
person be equated to the irony Professor Lurie, in Coetzee's Disgrace, discovers
is inherent in the teaching profession? Prof. Lurie discovers that "the
one who comes to teach learns the keenest of lessons (humility), while those
who come to learn learn nothing." Prof., if that was your discovery too,
then it was the biggest trick you played on the colossal ignorance of your
students. They took their ignorance for perspicacity! Well, it has taken your
death to make some of them see that truth and sincerity count. It takes
a great leader to bring this about.
Of
course, you'd your failings; some were unbelievable and unpardonable.
Nevertheless, you did your uttermost. You brought some sense of dignity to the
presidency. Fare thee well. Egya Atta!!!!
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