Akua Bonsu

I am taking on a difficult journey next week to Sunyani, the beautiful capital of Brong Ahafo Region. My party is the ruling National Democratic Congress, and as a card carrying member, nothing will keep me away from what promises to be a circus. My idol, Jerry has gone bunkers. I cannot understand him anymore, but I owe so much to him that I feel compelled to stand by him. At the same time, if I do, I would be helping him to destroy my party. So what do I do?

Jerry has done so much for us. Before he came, they did not respect us. Remember the time when they used to call us ‘Number Nine’? Well, I notice they do not call us that anymore because we have catapulted to number one in Ghana today. We run the security; we run the corporations; we dominate the cabinet; we run the harbours, we run the immigration service; in fact, we run the government. Or do we?

Jerry told us this Mills guy would be weak and would listen to him. So we put two and two together and figured that if he would listen to Jerry – as long as he listened to Jerry, our interest would still be at the forefront of Ghana’s policies. Actually we had no choice because the other option is that other party that is our second most hated entity. We dared not vote for them. In fact the 11% they received in Volta Region in 2008 was the total votes of those foreigners from other parts of Ghana who live in our region. The remaining 89% (us) voted for Jerry’s hand-picked guy that we thought would be a sure stooge. Boy, were we wrong.

No sooner had he settled in the chair at the Castle did he bring on the ‘Greedy Bastards.’ I work with these people, and I try to smile back at them. But when I think about how we dared the rains and the dark nights combing the villages for votes at a time when they were eating their kenkey and fried fish in Cape Coast, I shudder to think that they are now the ones whom Jerry’s man listens to, and is giving all the juicy positions, power, and contracts. At least I was lucky that I got something. Those poor foot soldiers. They still have to fight over toilets to survive and beat up DCEs in order to get attention. But Jerry’s man insists that his Better Ghana Agenda is on course.

Anyway back to my trip to Sunyani. Jerry’s wife now says Jerry’s man has flunked so badly that she wants to take his job. In fact, when I heard that, I was sooooo happy. Someone has finally stepped up to call this Jerry’s man’s semblance of a presidency into question. Clearly, such a person would command some attention and would be seriously considered by we the delegates of our party. But alas, there is one problem. First it is a ‘she.’ What is worse, she is an Ashanti. I know you are asking “have you lost your mind?” But no, I have not. You have to be an Ewe to understand.

Do you remember that Victor Owusu fela who accused us of being “inward-looking” people? Well, I hated his guts, but I could not disagree with him. I know I for one, I think Ewe, I drink Ewe, I smoke Ewe, I speak Ewe, I sleep Ewe, and I even dream Ewe. That means anyone who plays with my Ewe interest like Jerry’s man is doing cannot be my friend even if I work for him – or his administration. So I guess it is fair to say that I hate his guts too – just like I hated that Victor Owusu fela. So how do I vote for such a person?

But then the only other option I have in this contest is and Ashanti. Oh my God. If I hate anyone who plays with my Ewe interest, I absolutely despise anything Ashanti. I even hate the vehicles coming from that region when I go to the Neoplan station at Circle and I see them. In fact, I can like something until I find out that it is either from that God forsaken region, or it has something to do with it. So for me to cast my vote for an Ashanti person is tantamount to self-torture.

What happened to that Spio Garbrah fela? I really thought he would enter the race. But of course he chickened out just like folks from his region. At least with him, I would have had the chance to vote for none of the two abominable candidates. But now I am stuck with them. I do not believe in relinquishing my civic obligation to vote. At the same time, I cannot decide which of the two I dislike more. So as I head to Sunyani, I consider myself to be in an “Ewe Funk.” Damn if I do; damn if I don’t.

May be I would just do a “Minnie Minnie mannie mow,” or flip a coin. But somehow, I will not consciously vote for any of the two. Whichever one gets my vote would get it by accident. So Help Me God.