Opinions of Tuesday, 21 March 2023
Columnist: Fadi Dabbousi
Finally, the hour struck the tune of freedom. All gathered at the largest ensemble ever in the contemporary history of our beloved country. Then she was the 'Gold Coast', which term signified the rich cache of minerals that GOD had hidden in the portion of earth we now call, Ghana!
The pageantry and pomp had not seen such colourful display of Ghana’s unique culture and tradition in a long time. The country was decorated in the majesty of the vast variety of kente in all the nuances available. The destiny of Ghana’s freedom seemed to be highlighted in all the hues of a rainbow majestically bowed in the clear blue sky that showered congratulatory
rain ever so gentle!
The euphoria swept all off their feet, including the 'Masters' as they breathed their last air of colonial power governing the country. Dancing was occasioned in every nook and cranny; in villages and far-off 'townsends' at the peripheries of towns that dotted the landscape like exotic mushrooms in the wild. Songs were written and musicals were played. Dancers tapped and highlife echoed in the air as if to add more oxygen to enrich our breaths!
Then again, the responsibility of the imminent was weighing down on some honest politicians still hanging around in the Nkrumah world. But Kwame Nkrumah, in spite of the glory that he was swimming in, was in no better situation albeit the smiles and laughter concealed that, almost, perfectly. It is one thing to campaign for independence and another to hold on to it when it is finally delivered.
Then the night of reckoning was nigh! Ghanaians from all walks of life travelled in all forms of conventional and unconventional means of transport to participate in the independence activities in Accra. Now, I can almost smell the flavour of the food that endured the walls of homes and the environment. Just imagine the tantalising aroma of light soup, groundnut soup, palmnut soup, gobe, kelewele, kaklo, okro stew, TZ, palaver sauce with kobi, tilapia, chichinga,
and so on mixing in the air to boost the inspiration of the nation.
Ghanaians had fought for the freedom that they so deserved and had vowed never to allow our wealth be stolen and locked up in a monarchial vault in a foreign Kingdom!
Were we going to be capable enough? If you had asked anyone about the prospects, they would have averred, between chewing on a piece of guinea fowl or a chichinga kebab as they made merry, that Ghanaians would hold the fort even better! So much for their optimism!
Kwame Nkrumah ascended the daise on the fateful night of the 6 th of March, 1957, and proclaimed to the whole world a statement that brings tears to my eyes each time I hear it ring in my mind, 'Ghana, yoo beloved kentry is free foreva!' And yes, I love the accent it was spoken with!
Today, I ask myself, what at all has happened since? Let me tell you!
Kwame Nkrumah decided to take the independence fight beyond our borders by financing other countries to seek same. He gave money in aide to other countries while ours began to retrogress.
Yes, of course, he built the Akosombo dam, the Accra-Tema Motorway, and many
industries. Tema, once a small fishing village, flourished into the city that we know it to be today with communities and so on. Estates were developed, yes!
Soon, Ghana became bankrupt and started borrowing. He almost assumed the status similar to that of Emperor Mobutu Sese Seko of Zaire (now the two Congos) had he remained in office.
Well, what do we know! Then again, he might have repented if he had stayed on, after all Gamal Abdul-Nasser, that honest and true Egyptian President was his good friend, and the old Arab adage says, “tell me who your friends are, and I will tell who you are!”. You see, a junta of marauding military personnel led by Kotoka, Afrifa, Ankrah and IGP Harlley, overthrew Kwame Nkrumah on the 24th of February 1966. Then they started selling Ghana!
It was the NLC at the time that begun the privatisation of State-owned institutions and properties. Under their reign, Ghana was thrown into disarray as it spiralled into the confusion that it is today!
Kotoka was killed by a failed internal insurgency. The culprits were captured and executed publicly. His penis was cut and shoved into his mouth like a cigar at the forecourt of the International Airport, hence the name, “Kotoka International Airport”! Ankrah took over, then Afrifa until in 1969, Presidential elections were held that heralded Dr. Busia as Prime Minister
with His Excellency Edward Akufo-Addo as the ceremonial President (father of our current President Nana Addo Dankwa Akufo-Addo of sterling reputation) to form the government of the National Liberation Movement (NLM).
Then came Col Ignatius Kutu Acheampong, who seized power in a bloodless coup on the 13th of January, 1972. Unexpectedly of him, being a military person, he did well to create food sustenance in Ghana by starting the “operation feed yourself” campaign that succeeded for a few years, but his regime was marked with endemic corruption in all aspects of governance!
He promoted himself to the rank of General in 1975 when the NRC became the SMC (Supreme Military Council)! His deputy, Lt General Akufo deposed him in another peaceful takeover in 1978, but, like Kotoka, did not enjoy the chair for too long before Lt Col Jeremiah John Rawlings (Jerry John Rawlings) aka JJ – Junior Jesus, toppled him like an unexpected wave of a small tsunami. It was
bloody!
Ra-tat-tata-ta-ta-ta bullet sounds rung everywhere. My poor father was on his way to Osu to buy us bread that was very scarce while we were at home at Achimota. They were difficult days! He got to the 37 roundabout but did not notice much except the smell of gunfire in the air!
Then a ghost barrier appeared from nowhere, “oluman, why you no sabi wetin dey go on for hiya?” One drunk soldier asked. To wit, “old man, don’t you know what is happening here?” That jolted him somewhat, but hard as he was, he continued under the blanket of bullets, got us the bread, and returned home unscathed. That is the power of a father’s love.
For those of you reading this piece, please be reminded that Fathers are the pillars once gone will bring your life crashing down if not fortified by their blessings and prayers!
Fierce resistance was put up by dedicated soldiers one of whom was W/O Wellington who was chased by Rawlings to the Nima Police Station where he was gunned down with a barrage of bullets that almost sounded like the funeral dirge played on a traditional flute!
This coup heralded the Airforce Revolutionary Council, AFRC! Executions were carried out haphazardly and discriminatorily. Lt Gen Gen Acheampong, Afrifa, and dozens of others were executed, some for as small an offence as procuring a loan! Hmm, anyway, three months later, democratic elections were held that saw the emergence of all sorts of political parties.
I remember the funny mottos of some that went as such: “ɛyɛ fish, ɛyɛ nnam, ɛyɛ kobi, ɛyɛ akpata, atsholɛ lo lo lo”; “ɛyɛ Abɛ”; “ɛyɛ Kube”, and so on!