Sodom & Gomorrah on my mind...

A few years ago I had the opportunity to supervise student from the AUCC's Journalists for Human Rights photograph/document the community of Old Fadama for a magazine they were producing. I used the opportunity to do some photography myself. Find the link to some of the pictures I took that day.
(http://www.everyoungjba.org/everyoungjba/index.gallery.php?gid=56)
 My feelings of that day are neither here nor there. The evictions over the weekend has coming for a long time and my overwhelming feeling was that it was going be very difficult to evict the people since the community has been allowed to grow into an uncontrollable size. The mini economy is almost a microcosm of the outside world beyond their walls minus the filth. The dregs of society as one might think of them are easily attracted to each other in a quagmire of filth, squalor and chaos. Perhaps the recent floods have given city authorities the needed power unhindered by political criticism to finally take the hard decisions that will benefit the majority in the city rather than a minority living at the bottom end of societies margins.
Well, so far I have not heard anyone complain from both political divides. I hope the threats of not voting will not deter the City Authorities from doing what they are supposed to do. To clean up our city the way we feel entitled will require some very hard decisions some of which are clearing the city of illegal structures for city to grow in it's own dynamic time.
The people I met there that day were ordinary people going about their business trying to eke out a living to support themselves, their spouses, families, children who are either in Accra or from some far flung parts of the country.
They also had aspirations like all of us, wanted the best for themselves, their families and children. To describe as pawns in a bigger game will be to not understand the issues at play here. As it is, they have out stayed the use and welcome becoming their own worst enemy by how they have treated the land on which their livilihoods vis a vis security depends on.

Children's ward somewhere

The 3 young medical students moved in to surround the rather large oversized cot of crying child in obvious discomfort . They mulled around the child whose demeanour was so full of anguish, despair and discomfort listened to them test their little found knowledge from short lived paediatrics training resulting in opinions or solutions which were neither here nor there.
Each taking turns with the stethoscopes to diagnose doom or gloom or satisfy their curiosities in understanding what gibberish was on the patient’s medical charts. Still mulling, it soon dawned on me they had no idea about what they were looking for , or any clues about the solutions to end the despair of a suffering child.
Not even a pat on the back or an attempt to engage the child in a humane manner which could alleviate this Lab rat feeling (surrounded by 3 men in white coats wielding shining instrument dangling from their necks).
Nooooo… that’s not what we do around her!  We are Doctors! Ehem;  ehem, sorry Ooooh. Medical students soon to be fully fledged Doctors only deal with people on a professional level not on a social. We would otherwise be called social workers. Isn’t social work part of what we do as medical doctors?  I thought out loud. Erm , Mmmmm, yes it is but not on the single spine; you would need a neurologist that. A ‘Neuro’ who I asked? What’s the link between single spine and Neurology?
Welllllll, it has something to do with the spine isn’t it?... to be continued

~Gbemei Ani dzin holo gbemei a kotokui amlin.~ (PEOPLE’S HANDS ARE IN PEOPLE'S POCKETS)

When you have someone in your pocket, does it mean you own them hook, line and sinker? Well, according to the English FA's tweet after the Tottenham Vrs Man Utd FA Cup semi final, Utd Defender Chris Smalling had Tottenham's Harry Kane in his pocket all day. This tweet, meant to be a joke did not break the 'laughometer" gauge in North London and suggested a certain bias from the hallowed halls of English football.
This term has brought much displeasure, pain and shame to the president and vice president of Ghana whose going rate for facilitating crony goodwill is allegedly $5m and $3m respectively. Kofi Nyantakyi's feline nine lives are really not up yet because he does not live in a dear friends house where cat meat is fair game when the hunters are always out to feast on pussy(sic) (Hunters know themselves). We only hope to live to see how this new Nyantakyi situation pans out because the last sting of 4 years ago (https://www.telegraph.co.uk/sport/football/world-cup/10919782/Football-match-fixing-Secret-footage-shows-Ghana-football-chief-agreeing-to-take-part-in-rigged-match.html) was ridden out with graceful aplomb, but that was before master Sebb Blatter' FIFA empire came crumbling down. We live to see how he rides this big Tsunami this time. My soda and popcorn is ready for what looks like a blockbuster movie of the moment until the next scandal rocks a party whose nine lives might still see them crawling over the line for a second term in office. But at this rate, one and a half years since taking over even the vanquished adversary is still going around wetting his lips gleefully and getting his fitness up by walking up and down the country with his band of sycophant foot soldiers/supporters who live in his pocket. At least, he will get some fitness in the process and shedding off some of the weight put on by their avaricious time at the then Flagstaff house. Who needs 3d glasses when one literally lives in this ongoing comedy called 'Ghanacracy, A road walked on pocketfulls of Dollars'.
We only live to see what comes of this second sting by Anas partnered by the BBC on "8 lives Nayantakyi' the Killmonger/Killer/ protagonist in the current ongoing movie since this time I suspect it's coming from a completely different place fuelled by the ongoing FIFA fallout as we prepare for another football fiesta we are not invited to this time.

At least we shall not be disgracing ourselves flying cash to Russia this time even though the Vice President’s alleged fee might just cover it. Interesting times we live in indeed because the breaking news is that Killmonger has gone and filed a court injunction on the broadcasting of the incriminating film for fear of compromising the investigation of his 'pocketful of Dollars saga’.

Well, my popcorn is getting cold, the ice has melted rendering my Sobolo watery. As I contemplate going for a refill hoping the movie will reach it's anticipated crescendo or go home and wait for the next mind blowing blockbuster of a blow job that will never reach it's peak, the thought of turning this write up into a blockbuster movie springs to mind and I'm offering it for a tidy sum. My only request is that I choose the sound track that should include Antonio Carlos Jobim’s classic ‘Agua de Beber’ ( https://youtu.be/qZx-Z3_n4t8) in the opening sequence, loads of video vixens wearing batty riders shaking their money makers and the usual clichéd imagery of our times. Hahahahahaha Hahahahahaha

To be continued...

#CYNICALOPTIMIST

THE SHITƆ LAB TEST- WU MAAME SHITƆ MP NIƐ

DAY ONE
23|01|13
Waakye was nice this morning, no adverse effects so far. Waiting to top it up with a cold fruit shake. That will stir the digestive situation to a very good session on the throne...
*N.B. This is a report of a scientific experiment. So if you do not have a stomach for the colourful / graphic language please stay away from this thread.


DAY ONE
23|01|13
19:35
After a second big helping with jollof for lunch, no adverse effects manifested in the Lab Rat. Lab rat fine and dandy, temperature normal, infact the afternoons dose has necessitated a longing for a mortuary cold CLUB BEER.

The monitoring will continue and you shall get tomorrow mornings updates.
Please Note: The salt content of the item being tested is a little on the high side and the manufacturer has to be warned abut the dangers of excessive consumption of salt for future reference.
Thanks
SHITƆ LAB TESTER
AMEN


DAY TWO
24|01|13
18:36
Missed lunch today due to a date I had at the rehearsal of the National Symphony Orchestra doing field recordings.(0hhh we are rather Porsche (sic) aren’t we?, Should have gone in my Tuxedo instead of my jeans and ever faithful and comfortable CROCS). I never thought I would enjoy it but sometimes one has to indulge in other artistic pursuits.

Fati's banku had finished by time I got back so might have to get some of ADUELEY'S fried fish to test it with kenkey tonight or over the weekend. I am STILL  ALIVE and not experiencing adverse effects. No need to say a prayer for me. Just one to SALACIA (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salacia_%28mythology%29) the GODDESS OF SALT WATER to thank her for it's importance, but also to beg for it's unhealthier attributes (Please refer to earlier post). From my tests so far, this Shitɔ might be better as a condiment rather than a main sauce sauce for meals like Kenkey or Banku with fish. Gari might be a perfect fit for this Culnirary masterpiece due to it's excessive infusion of dried prawns. (Sonŋ Gbinŋ)
Thanks
SHITƆ LAB TESTER
AMEN

To be Continued...

CHILDREN'S WARD AT A HOSPITAL IN ACCRA

The 3 young medical students moved in to surround the rather large oversized cot of crying child in obvious discomfort . They mulled around the child whose demeanour was so full of anguish, despair and discomfort listened to them test their little found knowledge from short lived paediatrics training resulting in opinions or solutions which were neither here nor there.
Each taking turns with the stethoscopes to diagnose doom or gloom or satisfy their curiosities in understanding what gibberish was on the patient’s medical charts. Still mulling, it soon dawned on me they had no idea about what they were looking for , or any clues about the solutions to end the despair of a suffering child.
Not even a pat on the back or an attempt to engage the child in a humane manner which could alleviate this Lab rat feeling (surrounded by 3 men in white coats wielding shining instrument dangling from their necks).
Nooooo… that’s not what we do around her!  We are Doctors! Ehem;  ehem, sorry Ooooh. Medical students soon to be fully fledged Doctors only deal with people on a professional level not on a social. We would otherwise be called social workers. Isn’t social work part of what we do as medical doctors?  I thought out loud. Erm , Mmmmm, yes it is but not on the single spine; you would need a neurologist FOR that. A ‘NEURO WHAT’ who I asked? What’s the link between  single spine and Neurology?
Welllllll, it has something to do with the spine INNIT'?... to be continued OR NOT
allotey@accralomi.com © Accra, 2010

AGE IS JUST A NUMBER

http://www.guardian.co.uk/football/2011/mar/14/tunstall-town-worst-oldest-team

A great story about the tricks your age can play on you. At 44 I sometimes think I am 18 with all of my previous athletic prowess intact. I am reminded quickly on saturday evenings after Tennis and Social or Sundays mornings after volleyball and Waakye. The pain, always a reminder of one's forgetfulness and physical state.
I had what is called an Anterior Cruciate Ligament injury about 15 years ago playing Basketball for the London Polytechnic team, (previously known as Regent Street Polytechnic) the only link was that we trained at the premises of the then London Polytechnic on Harley Street end of Regents Street. It was a club coached by Alan Tillot run by an elderly Saville Row tailor called Harry Errington who was also an European Basketball official. This man travelled around Europe officiating basketball games from the table. Please check link below.
(http://www.theguardian.com/news/2004/dec/30/guardianobituaries.firefighters). Harry had a wonderful sense of humor. His always question to me was if I had found a rich widow yet, a question to which I always answered ' No Harry, I am waiting for you to find one first'.

We did not win a lot games but we never lost the fight. Our biggest matches were against the Metropolitan Police either at their Training School in Hendon, North London or at our home court behind Paddington Station. Those battles always ended up with a scuffle or two between some of my white middle class team mates who did not take kindly to being asked 'what Council Estate they came from'. I never took offense to any of this type of heckling planned to keep you off your 'A' game because I did not come a Council Estate neither was I supposed to be part of anything they could brand that was supposed to be lower than they were. Without blowing my own horn I still was able to amass my fare share of points, rebounds, assists and blocks in my usual all action fashion. Ohhh those were the days. 
allotey@accralomi.com © Accra, 2013

RANTINGS OF A BƆƆLU GBEY...

Yesterday the 2nd of September 2013, I took some time out of my creative schedule to go watch the Black Stars at the Accra Sports Stadium ooohh sorry oohh, the Ohene Djan Sports Stadium. The teams turnout was meager because the rest of the team was still enroute from their various destinations of employment worldwide. The face of international football has changed and is a far cry from the days when the whole national team was up of players from the local league. Having watched many a Black Stars training sessions at the now derelict Kaneshie Sports Complex or the Ohene Djan Sports stadium, yesterday was able to bring back the nostalgia that instigated my decision to go watch the training session. One big memory of such training sessions I watched was in 1982 prior to the Libya (Cup of Nations) of a hastily put together Black Stars team led by the fearless C.K Gyamfi. An Era where the only non local players were George Alhassan and the captain Emmanuel Quarshie who was with Zamalek (If my memory serves right). I remember a standing next to a teenage Abedi Pele (all Jerry Curled up, dripping with a mixture of activator, sweat and testosterone) being interviewed for TV or Radio (N.B we could not spell internet in those days). Those days saw some full scale full pitch matches sometimes against the local sides or the whole call up. It was value for money even though it was free to get in. With players getting into some full blown career threatening tackles because of the sheer competition for places besides or other underlying factors like team rivalries.

Ohh, how international football has changed. Players are now wrapped in cotton wool and only fully unwrapped on the day of serious competitive engagement keeping them ticking over like well oiled machines and away from any harm or misfortune to get their maximum performance. And watching the small pitch session from the stands yesterday got a lot of things going through my mind. These laughing, joking group of brothers, friends will on Friday become a fighting unit burdened with the expectation of a whole nation to beat Zambia and qualify for the World Cup playoff round. 

What a responsibility, way beyond my measly one international Basketball Cap against Togo at ‘a filled to the rafters’ Lebanon House, Tudu in 1985. My only regret that day was getting only a few minutes on the floor and missing both free throws when I went to the foul line. Our lot those days were and still is a far cry from the money laden and underachieving Black Stars of today. 

I remember we got changed at St Joseph’s C.Y.O (another bastion of Ghana Basketball) and commandeering a Tro-Tro for the 5-10 minute journey to Lebanon House. The Black Stars’ current luxury coach would have had difficulty maneuvering into the Lebanon House so it must have been a tactical masterstroke by the 3 man management team of Ceasar Akpakli, Braa Matthias and Coach Victor Munford to keep the team hungry and focused for the task ahead. Our post match victory party was held at a Hotel in Osu Kuku hill (will provide the name in chambers) getting there on a back of a pick up wearing our national track suits was an unbelievable sight to behold for by standers who might have cared to take a closer look. Our previous 2-3 weeks allowances plus winning bonus was handed and received with gratitude, about 1000 Cedis in all (which was a lot of money then). That night at the Tesano Gardens I was the ‘Paymaster General’ and made sure the BuBra flowed like there was no tomorrow ably assisted by my then able ‘Finance Minister’ (name With held for confidential reasons) still in my regulation Uniform and Tracksuit showing off and behaving in a manner unbefitting of sportsman let alone an international just coming from a game he had participated in. Of course I might have been the only one who cared or understood why I was still in my track suit at 10pm necking down Draught beer because frankly nobody gave a toss.
Times have changed in the field of sports and sportsmen around the world have become very cautious about the dietary and recreational drinking habits because they are now very highly invested and paid cash machines with agents, managers and investment brokers who take care of their every day to day activities to keep the machine ticking over. The legendary stories of footballers’ drinking habits at various watering holes in Accra where the cream of league footballers would allegedly converge before and after league matches to refresh themselves are not just common to just these parts of the world.
Footage of footballers having an after game cigarette and a drink in the baths of many a football ground in England was the norm rather than the exception. In those days it was seen a manly thing to do rather than an unhealthy habit unbecoming of a sporting hero without the current intrusion of camera phones, Twitter and Facebook and the ever waiting sensation seeking newspaper to contend with, life must have a carefree carnival of careless abandon.
With all this in mind I pray we beat Zambia handsomely to make a statement, qualifying in the process and inducing the legendary fear national teams had of the once formidable Black Stars of Ghana. The bars in Kumasi and the whole country will make a killing as the parties will continue all weekend. All they have to do is to ensure they are fully stocked up for the ordeal.
Finally, all have to say is enjoy sensibly and carefully, and with this I leave with you the wise words of a musician bidding farewell at the end of the night in an Irish Bar.
‘PLEASE DO NOT  DRINK AND DRIVE, BUT IF YOU WANT TO, DO NOT FORGET YOUR CAR’.

GO BLACK STARS GO
OSEEY YEE. YEEEEE YEI,
BLACK STARS OOHHH, BLACK STARS OOHHH,
YEEE YEEEEEIGHHHHH
allotey@accralomi.com © Accra, 2010