The Confessional Statement Of John Jerry Rawlings

, The Greatest Demagogue Alive Today.

J.J.Rawlings and his wife were in the best of moods. They laughed, joked, ate, played sang with the students and cursed the Kufuors and the Akufo-Addos. “My Jezebel” said the ex-Head of State. “Dear tell them about our findings”. O yea, my dear, we shall expose them. Now students, you listen to me loud and clear. Your President, John Agyekum is not what he claims he is. The same it is with the flag bearer of the N P P. Both profess to be lawyers, but the records and evidence available indicate otherwise. Kufuor is a cheat and so is Akuffo Addo. They are both liars and dishonest. Reject them and be my darling.

A vote for Atta Mills is a vote for your darling, J.J. Rawlings, the people’s man.

Now see the difference between the time destinies brought me to the centre stage as Head of State, and my present posture. Haven’t I done well? See my puffy cheeks and bulging stomach. People tell me I have to shed some weight. Why should I? It shows that I too have arrived. Now I remember those days of old when I could hardly get anything to eat. Infact, my saviour in those days was Boakye Djan; He rescued me from very tight corners on many occasions. Infact, one day when the story is written, you will know what actually went on behind the scene. Now back to the Boakye Djan’s. Infact, it was Boakye Djan who tricked me into marrying Nana Yaa Konadu Agyeman, my former girlfriend during our Achimota days. I had wanted to marry a Swiss girl, but Boakye Djan, blinded by purely selfish motives went to J. O T Agyemang’s house together with Dr Addai, a military officer at 37 Military Hospital with drinks to ask for the hand of his daughter for me. Please do take note of the fact that they did this behind my back. Infact the father did not want to have anything to do with me on account of my tribe. But you see, the late Ekow Nkenson Arkaa who was a very close friend of my future father- in -law interceded before the old man gave his assent.

My greatest regret in life was that I had to beat the living hell out of this old grand papa for crossing me at the most difficult period of my life. Infact, considering what he did, let tell you that I have no regret for the action I took. To you students and future leaders of my beloved country, [this is off record]. Don’t go and tell others I told you, because I have always maintained that I did not beat him. But the man actually deserved some form of beatings and the good Lord chose me as an instrument of bringing sanity into the system. Now my advice to you, children, is that, should you find yourself in such a position that I found myself, you should not hesitate to use a little bit of force to achieve what you want. After all, Jesus Christ was not averse to using the whip when the occasion demanded. Osagyefo Dr Kwame Nkrumah, my mentor whom I took inspiration from also showed me the way. He showed J. B. Danquah, the progenitor of the Osono fraternity that it was unwise to cross the path of the chosen one. Arkaa was becoming too inquisitive and loquacious for my liking and I had to silence him once and for all. Two uppercuts were the only instrument I used to demobilize the old man. Now back to the Boakye Djan story. Infact, I hated him so strongly in those days because initially, I felt he was instrumental in getting me to marry my enemy. Infact, he controlled my life and I became an appendage to him for without him I felt empty. Infact, on my wedding day, it was Boakye Djan who went to seek the assistance of Col. Bruce Konuah to help them get a vehicle. My children, life is a struggle, for you should have seen me on my wedding day trotting to Congo Junction with Boakye Djan and Bruce Konuah behind me. I remember how Col.Bruce Konuah, in his military outfit bullied, cajoled and threatened the frightened driver into taking the three of us to Ridge Church where the marriage was taking place. Boakye Djan had to rush back to Nyaniba Estate to bring my bride. He was my best man.

At a stage I realized that Boakye Djan was acting the role of Absalom. He wanted to get there through the back door. One day, he issued the “To your tent, o Israel” call to members of the AFRC. Infact, for the first time in my life I was very much frightened. I had to step in to prove to him that I was the one God had used to redeem the country, . Infact, I was advised to silence him permanently but I refused for old time sake. But when I realized that he was an unrepentant idiot, I pre-empted his move and got his brother implicated in a coup. I did what will touch his soul most. Kyereme Djan had no hand in the alleged coup plot. But his brother and my erstwhile colleague was instigating the other ranks against me. How could he name his dog after me? Kyereme Djan was a nice chap. You hear me so? A smiling little boy. I gave command and all smiles ceased permanently.

My mind is now in a quandary. You see, I have been very clever in arranging the disappearances and elimination of my political opponents without being caught. Nobody wants his enemies to be always breathing behind his back or neck. Such political opponents will have to be silenced. You see, Akwasi Amankwaa Afrifa had to go. Why? As long as he existed, he acted as the focus of the rallying point of my political opponents. I also felt embittered that rumours had linked him to the death of my kinsman, Emmanuel Kwesi Kotoka. So I secretly gave an order please (don’t quote me) that his execution be prolonged. They should torture him till the end. Infact, when I watched the video of his execution, I smiled to myself for it gave me hope that the myth surrounding the invincibility of their so-called Okatakyie had been broken. One day, a close friend drew my attention to the way and manner some judges were making my attempts to subvert the Comstitution of Ghana impossible. I held a secret meeting with the inner caucus of my cabinet - Tsikata, Akata-pore and myself. We resolved that some judges had to be sacrificed to send strong signals to all that they should come on board else a similar fate awaited them. Amartey Quaye was put in charge of the operation and warned to ensure the success of the operation and that he should obliterate every trace of the act. The tape of the conversation is with my wife who was keeping keys to vehicles which were used to carry out those highly sanctioned murders. Infact let me confide in you that, as time went on, my hatred for my wife turned to happiness for I found out that her spirit was attuned to my own and that when it comes to performing terrible acts, she ranks second to none. Not even Macbeth and Jezebel put together could compete with her for the title of the wicked woman on earth. Do you now understand why I say she is the source of my happiness and inspiration?.

Amartey Kwei messed up the operation and had to be wasted. You know that in the Mafia World, if you mess up an assignment, you pay the price for it. In truth, it was Tsikata who went round with Amartey Quaye and showed him the places where the victims lived. But why did people expect me to have Tsikata tried and sentenced? I realized members of the SIB wanted to get at me through Tsikata. But what is my crime here? If I waste the lives of four recalcitrant renegades who don’t my retired army offices made my life a diving hell. And do you know how I managed to outwit the masses as soon as the bodies were discovered? I begin to shed tears, crocodiles ones, of course and on national television. This is something I learnt from my Cuban friend, Fidel Castro. When the people saw their idol, the great Rawlings who is nobody but the re-incarnation of Adolph Hitler, in tears, their love for me knew no bounds. They love me to a fault. “Yea, this man Rawlings is our Messiah” Rawlings-the people’s choice’’ Rawlings- Gods own Elect and Rawlings-President for life” Yea, these were some banners and posters which materialized on walls and many places all praising my virtues.

Is the elephant a bush animal or a domestic one? He asked his audience. One student timidly got up and said, “Sir, it lives in the bush” Rawlings- then why are we keeping them at home? We must send them back to the bush where they rightly belong!

Do you remember how I hijacked a seat from a parked Presidential Jet? Yes, it was a master plan by a genius. But why should I wallow in abject poverty while others lived in luxury? I felt I had to do something to improve my lot. And what better way to do so other than “hijacking” a seat. I felt I deserved to live a better life. Infact, as soon as I mounted the seat my living room, I saw myself as President of my country and put in motion plans to actualize that dream. My first attempt at staging coups detat was a total fiasco. I only have a pistol on me. Then came June 4th and I became an instant hero, even though I hardly played any meaningful role during its execution. I was only brought in to make an incoherent speech which sent darts into the spine of many Ghanaians. The second I was that lucky occurred during the 31st December 1981, we started with only eight soldiers and two armored personnel carriers. But we manage to put the fear of the Lord into them and the government forces succumbed without much ado. I laugh myself into the high heavens whenever I hear or read about some hungry and frustrated Ghanaians who have changed their abode to live in the bush among their fellow elephants. When they mention names like Saddique Boniface and Rashid Bawa what they forgot to add is that Ibn Chambas has never resigned to join the Osono fraternity. He is still a card-bearing member of the NDC. They should add to the list the Capo of the destructive Elephant -John Agyekum Kufuor. The PNDC metamorphosed into the NDC and their President [Mind you, theirs not mine] was the first PNDC Secretary of Local Government. Papa Owusu Ankomah and Ken Dapaah were also born and nurtured in the P(NDC). So where are their men?

Compare their President with me and you will know the difference. Why? Because I am the people’s choice. You see, Kufuor had his baptism of fire and apprenticeship under me. How then could he be better than me? Can a student be better than his own master? No, it is not possible! Akufo Addo [I refuse to call him Nana because he is undeserving of the title] is nothing but an old wine repackaged into a new bottle. You hear me so? Now, to the stolen verdict. Yes, it is indeed true that we overturned the people’s verdict. But why shouldn’t we? Who in his real sense would draw the referee attention to a foul he or she has committed during a football match, if the referee did not see it. Who amongst you will do that? None! And so it was. If we had not done that, the elephants would have caused a destruction never before experienced in the history of this country. But how could we cage this elephant on rampage? It needed a bit of tact and force and who was better placed in the position to check the drift if not the people’s idol? Yes, Rawlings is the name that professes solution to everything. When there is a problem, just let brother Rawlings know about it and he will fix it. It is no wonder that I am referred to as “Mr. Fix it”. Yes, that’s me, Mr. fix it. Yes it was fight to finish between the forces of progress spear headed by the great J J Rawlings and the forces of retrogression led by their so-called Gentle Goliath and the ubiquitous Akufo-Addo. But how could Goliath be described as gentle? Kufuor is undeserving of the title “Gentle”. You see how he and his successor, President Akufo- Addo, (oh! I am sorry for referring to my arch-enemy as such) treated me when they withdrew my VIP privilege status. Could you imagine the one and only Rawlings, the junior Jesus of the modern day Ghana, the mover and shaker of society, the man of the people, the man of timber and caliber, the conqueror of the NPP and God’s own elect being stripped to his underwear at Heathrow Airport for normal security check? Oh no, these elephants have done the unpardonable! They have bitten more than they could chew and I found it very difficult in my heart to forgive him, especially, that Akufo- Addo. He was the architect of my undoing. Infact, that man is something oo. The more I try to cage him, the more elusive he became. He is like a slippery fish in the sea. In fact, he is the Amalinze the cat in Ghanaian politics. He is somebody to be feared.

But something bothers me. It has to do with a person I thought was in my grips but now appears to slip away from my hands. Atta Mills. He was my trump card and had supported the Dzorlukope’s mafia all along in our struggles against the Fante Confederacy. I like him for the simple reason that “before Abraham was, he was”. What many people don’t know is that, he was there from the beginning. Ask him about the murder of the Judges, question him on the “Kume Preko” demonstration and the answers you will get will be very revealing. That is the man Atta Mills for you. Before I had him at my finger tips. Yes, he was my appendage. But don’t worry. That is politics for you. It is part of the game plan. We are together for what has been put in the public domain is not the reality on the ground. Atta Mills and Jerry Rawlings are one. A vote for Atta Mills is an endorsement of the third coming of the great Rawlings. Mine is a dynasty. The people love for me knows no bound.

Hello little brats. I choose to call you little brats because I don’t want you to grow up and become arrogant like the destructive elephants in the Osono fraternity. I want you to judge me by my actions. Victor Owusu, who at one time led the animals to taste defeat at the hands of a new corner like Dr Hilla Liman was alleged to have jailed his uncle. But for me I even went a step further by having my sister’s husband, the notorious Haruna Atta jailed. But why shouldn’t I? He made my life a living hell. He, together with his partner in crime, Malik Kwaku Baako. These two resisted all attempts to “compromise”. Not even monetary influence could do the trick. But I lost two and have gained one. Kwesi Pratt! He came to my rescue at the time I was friendless. Just an ordinary invitation to a Christmas dinner was enough to make our man change his mind. But I must confess that good old Kwesi Pratt had all the time being with us. He was used as decoy. The question is did “Ghana must go” change hands? Well, Kwesi Pratt is alive today. Go ask him and he will not refuse you an answer. I am getting confused, because my mind is filled with many things. Sometimes I could hear the voices of those we have dispatched to their early graves warning me to put my house in order because my time was up. The discordant tunes are led by Akwasi Amankwaa Afrifa, Amartey Quaye, Kyereme Djan and Nii Addy, the son of my senior brother. They have threatened to deal with me should I mistakenly found myself in their midst. Who will intercede for me? Who will take up my case? So far, Osagyefuo Dr Kwame Nkrumah, in a dream had told me he could not defend the indefensible. Dr J B Danquah also revealed to me in a dream that my case was a lost one. Whom do I appeal to? I chose the path of enrichment, deceit and idolatry and dissipated my energy trying to make myself an immortal. In the process, I missed my way and found myself on the different plane. I forgot the Lord’s injunction, “my son, life is precious, thou shall not take it” and the saying that “Lord, I ask for mercy”. I listened to people’s yearning for more blood. I forgot the old adage that success must be followed by failure and glory by disgrace. I am sinking, sinking and sinking fast into the lowest abyss, who will rescue me? Where is Atta Mills? Where is Spio Garbrah, Asiedu Nketia, Kwabena Agyei, and Victor Smith , Ama Benyiwa Doe? Where are you………..

Daniel Danquah Damptey [email protected] 0243715297.