A combination of the age and condition of the internal paint work and the ferocity of the current spells of rain, mean that there are now chunks of white gloss paint on the floors of most rooms in the house.
The local branch of Melcom (think Argos, if it had existed in communist era Russia) has a small stock of Waitrose own brand tinned mackerel fillets – in vegetable oil or alternatively brine.
As the average Ghanaian barber has only two cuts in his repertoire – very short and even shorter, I have managed to go nearly six months since my last cut. I reckon with a little trim around the edges, I could probably go a few months more.
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
Yam Chip Wife
I fancied yam chips and pepper sauce on Saturday. I hadn’t had them for a week or so. Most week day lunches recently have been taken in the cocoa growing communities – usually boiled plantain and coco yam with palaver sauce. Either that or I just walk into one of canteens in town, order light soup with fish and rice and say the Agric. Officer will pay for it. It’s a curious arrangement, but it works so I don’t question it.
Anyway, I cycled into town and as I suspected the normal yam chip lady was not there and her stall was deserted. I don’t think she does Saturdays. I tried to remember where I else I could get freshly fried chips. (Older ones tend to get a bitter taste.) Then I realised I would have to visit my third or possibly fourth wife. The good thing about Yam Chip Wife (YCW, yes she has got a real name, but I have forgotten it and it’s probably not a good idea to have to ask her what it is and this stage) is that she doesn’t make the same demands as the others. There is no ‘where have you been?’, ‘what did you bring me from Accra?’ why didn’t you phone?’ she just accepts me for what I am and is always pleased to see me, no questions asked. Her stall is on the main road, beside the cash and carry and opposite the Shell Garage. When I sit in the back of the pick up, because there is no room inside, my colleagues always shout at her as we pass so that she notices me. Sitting in the back of the pick up always arouses quite a bit of excitement. I don’t think it’s seen as appropriate behaviour for ‘obrunis’.
I reached YCW’s stall. She was there and she immediately started putting chips in a bag without asking what I wanted. She put seven big wedges in a bag (I would normally ask for four) and then offered sauce, which I accepted and fish which I turned down. It had been a very fishy week. I proffered a 1 Ghana Cedi note. ‘No’, she said, ‘you are my husband’. I hesitated but then thanked her earnestly and put the hot bag in my rucksack. I pedalled off pondering if or how I should reciprocate this generous gift. As I cycled the chips gently warmed the small of my back.
Anyway, I cycled into town and as I suspected the normal yam chip lady was not there and her stall was deserted. I don’t think she does Saturdays. I tried to remember where I else I could get freshly fried chips. (Older ones tend to get a bitter taste.) Then I realised I would have to visit my third or possibly fourth wife. The good thing about Yam Chip Wife (YCW, yes she has got a real name, but I have forgotten it and it’s probably not a good idea to have to ask her what it is and this stage) is that she doesn’t make the same demands as the others. There is no ‘where have you been?’, ‘what did you bring me from Accra?’ why didn’t you phone?’ she just accepts me for what I am and is always pleased to see me, no questions asked. Her stall is on the main road, beside the cash and carry and opposite the Shell Garage. When I sit in the back of the pick up, because there is no room inside, my colleagues always shout at her as we pass so that she notices me. Sitting in the back of the pick up always arouses quite a bit of excitement. I don’t think it’s seen as appropriate behaviour for ‘obrunis’.
I reached YCW’s stall. She was there and she immediately started putting chips in a bag without asking what I wanted. She put seven big wedges in a bag (I would normally ask for four) and then offered sauce, which I accepted and fish which I turned down. It had been a very fishy week. I proffered a 1 Ghana Cedi note. ‘No’, she said, ‘you are my husband’. I hesitated but then thanked her earnestly and put the hot bag in my rucksack. I pedalled off pondering if or how I should reciprocate this generous gift. As I cycled the chips gently warmed the small of my back.
The Honorable Nana Adjei Boateng
The transitional period of President Atta Mills government continues. On Thursday he gave his first State of the Nation Address and among the various announcements made was the revocation of the appointments of every single local authority chief executive in Ghana – all 140 plus of them. These are political appointments and therefore every one of them, regardless of the political loyalties of the residents of their districts, belongs to the ruling party. The NPP chief executives must therefore be replaced with NDC ones.
In fairness, it was an announcement expected much sooner. The President’s failure to oust the NPP chief executives on day one had provoked the first outburst of dissatisfaction from former President Rawlings. In 2001, President Kufuor had sent the then NDC chief executives packing immediately and Rawlings expected the same treatment for their successors. It was left to a government spokesperson to state that clearly the NDC had failed to explain fully to Rawlings and others why it had not been appropriate to dismiss the chief executives sooner. The NPP chief executives stayed on in a kind of limbo for more than six weeks. There will now be a period without chief executives when the newly appointed regional ministers are expected to be held responsible for the authorities. No doubt, they will work closely with the co-ordinating directors, the most senior civil servant in each authority.
This means the end of the road for the Honorable Nana Adjei Boateng as Municipal Chief Executive of the New Juaben Municipal Assembly. Notionally he was my boss during my initial placement in Koforidua. An imposing figure, particularly when dressed in one of his traditional smocks, Nana has the gift of being able to talk off the cuff to any group of people on any subject at a moment’s notice. He came to the local launch of the Cadbury Cocoa Partnership. ‘So Richard,what’s all this about?’, ‘Er, helping cocoa farmers in deprived communities’ and he was off for ten minutes on the issues facing cocoa farmers with conclusions not dissimilar to the ones which Cadbury’s research had uncovered. I have seen him address everyone from meetings on inclusivity in education, to presentations on Farmers’ Day, to turf cutting for school extensions, to passing out parades for the local disaster recovery team. The most alarming was when he suddenly appeared as guest of honour at the local rotary club a.g.m. It’s a long story as to what I was doing there, but I think he took great relish in ensuring that I took part in the dance interlude.
There was usually a sting in the tale to any of his ad hoc speeches. They would usually contain some kind of reprimand to the group concerned. This was probably a throw back to his previous career in teaching, but it meant that nobody was immune from a quick telling off whether it be the municipal HIV/AIDS working group – ‘we need more commitment from you, if we are going to do something about having the highest prevalent rate of HIV infection in the country,’ or the local umbrella group for organisations for persons with disabilities – ‘you’re not going to get anywhere if you don’t work together.’ His views on the evils of discarded water sachet bags are well documented.
He would arrive at every appointment, however close to the assembly, in his chauffeur driven, freshly polished black 4WD with smoked glass windows. You could never tell if he was in it or not, but whenever he saw me at the Assembly, he would always say he had spotted me recently on some street corner or another.
Had the NPP won the election, Nana would have been assured some worthwhile kind of promotion. As it is I’m not sure what will happen to him next, but at least he won’t be watching me through the smoked glass windows.
In fairness, it was an announcement expected much sooner. The President’s failure to oust the NPP chief executives on day one had provoked the first outburst of dissatisfaction from former President Rawlings. In 2001, President Kufuor had sent the then NDC chief executives packing immediately and Rawlings expected the same treatment for their successors. It was left to a government spokesperson to state that clearly the NDC had failed to explain fully to Rawlings and others why it had not been appropriate to dismiss the chief executives sooner. The NPP chief executives stayed on in a kind of limbo for more than six weeks. There will now be a period without chief executives when the newly appointed regional ministers are expected to be held responsible for the authorities. No doubt, they will work closely with the co-ordinating directors, the most senior civil servant in each authority.
This means the end of the road for the Honorable Nana Adjei Boateng as Municipal Chief Executive of the New Juaben Municipal Assembly. Notionally he was my boss during my initial placement in Koforidua. An imposing figure, particularly when dressed in one of his traditional smocks, Nana has the gift of being able to talk off the cuff to any group of people on any subject at a moment’s notice. He came to the local launch of the Cadbury Cocoa Partnership. ‘So Richard,what’s all this about?’, ‘Er, helping cocoa farmers in deprived communities’ and he was off for ten minutes on the issues facing cocoa farmers with conclusions not dissimilar to the ones which Cadbury’s research had uncovered. I have seen him address everyone from meetings on inclusivity in education, to presentations on Farmers’ Day, to turf cutting for school extensions, to passing out parades for the local disaster recovery team. The most alarming was when he suddenly appeared as guest of honour at the local rotary club a.g.m. It’s a long story as to what I was doing there, but I think he took great relish in ensuring that I took part in the dance interlude.
There was usually a sting in the tale to any of his ad hoc speeches. They would usually contain some kind of reprimand to the group concerned. This was probably a throw back to his previous career in teaching, but it meant that nobody was immune from a quick telling off whether it be the municipal HIV/AIDS working group – ‘we need more commitment from you, if we are going to do something about having the highest prevalent rate of HIV infection in the country,’ or the local umbrella group for organisations for persons with disabilities – ‘you’re not going to get anywhere if you don’t work together.’ His views on the evils of discarded water sachet bags are well documented.
He would arrive at every appointment, however close to the assembly, in his chauffeur driven, freshly polished black 4WD with smoked glass windows. You could never tell if he was in it or not, but whenever he saw me at the Assembly, he would always say he had spotted me recently on some street corner or another.
Had the NPP won the election, Nana would have been assured some worthwhile kind of promotion. As it is I’m not sure what will happen to him next, but at least he won’t be watching me through the smoked glass windows.
Monday, 16 February 2009
Fire Starters
As I was leaving the house one day recently, the compound suddenly filled with butterflies. As I approached each bush or tree another group would appear. The landlord was irritated. The previous evening the compound had been invaded by smoke from bush fires lit on the banks of the nearby stream. (The picture was taken from the compound.) The butterflies had lost their homes in the process and set up a temporary base with us. The phenomenon lasted a couple of days before they found somewhere more appropriate.
Lighting fires is a popular Ghanaian past time. Particularly during the dry season, you will regularly see small patches of brush burning. I was walking home from Dan’s house very late one evening when I saw a largish one near the top of the mountain. On a smaller scale, many households, including my immediate neighbours, burn their rubbish. I regularly wake with the smell of smoke in my nostrils.
You rarely see anybody managing the fires. They are just left to run their own courses. Occasionally they do get out of control, but fortunately the generally very damp conditions mean we are never faced with situations like the appalling ones recently experienced in Australia. That said, they are frowned upon and you will occasionally see appeals in the press from small communities asking the perpetrators to desist from this activity.
Lighting fires is a popular Ghanaian past time. Particularly during the dry season, you will regularly see small patches of brush burning. I was walking home from Dan’s house very late one evening when I saw a largish one near the top of the mountain. On a smaller scale, many households, including my immediate neighbours, burn their rubbish. I regularly wake with the smell of smoke in my nostrils.
You rarely see anybody managing the fires. They are just left to run their own courses. Occasionally they do get out of control, but fortunately the generally very damp conditions mean we are never faced with situations like the appalling ones recently experienced in Australia. That said, they are frowned upon and you will occasionally see appeals in the press from small communities asking the perpetrators to desist from this activity.
The Mmetiamu Bridge
The letters page of the Daily Graphic is one of my favourite features and I am always disappointed when the page is replaced by something more mundane. Sometimes there are letters commenting on major current issues, but more often than not, the correspondence is of a much more random and often highly parochial nature. There might be a letter of praise for the service provided by the DVLA office in Kumasi, or a complaint about noise from a specific church in Sunyani, or a demand for more litter bins or a request for a new public library somewhere.
The 9th January edition contained missives on the following topics: the Chairman of the Tema East Constituency writing to refute an accusation that he had been arrested; a complaint about charges made for senior school certificates (one of a small number which illicit a response from the relevant authority – in this case a letter from the West African Examinations Council stating that charging was not authorised); a plea to increase the size of the 1 pesewa coin; another plea to community members not to dig trenches in tarred roads as makeshift traffic control measures; a request to reinstate railways as a means of transporting cocoa; a reminder to thank God for continued peace during and after the elections and a letter suggesting it was inappropriate to suggest that God chose the new president as, in the author’s view, both main parties had rigged polls and that, therefore, God would not be associated with such malpractice.
A letter in the paper on the 4th August last year particularly caught my eye. Godwin Yirenkyi was expressing concern about the dangerous traffic on the Mamfe-Koforidua road (a view I can fully support) but he went on to comment on the condition of the Mmetiamu Bridge. I have not been able to find out more about this bridge from other sources, so must rely upon the accuracy of his text:
“Near the Asuoyaa Bridge and close to the former Accra-Kumasi railway line is another unique bridge built over the Densu River in 1911 by the Swiss missionary and civil engineer, Jacob Isliker, on behalf of the enterprising pioneer cocoa farmers who migrated from the Akuapem Mountains to establish the early cocoa farms around the river. Called the Mmetiamu footbridge and known locally as the “wharf”, it is one of the oldest bridges in the country and though it looks strong, the need for some maintenance cannot be ruled out. The tourism importance of this bridge would be appreciated when it is recalled that is probably the only one of its kind in Africa. Dr Polly Hill, formerly of the University of Ghana in her book, “Migrant Cocoa Farmers of Southern Ghana (1970)”, described it as “a splendid and historic landmark that should be preserved as a monument to the business enterprise of the first cocoa farmers due to its uniqueness in Africa”.”
It took seven months before I finally got round to seeing the Mmetiamu Bridge for myself. The first weekend in February, Dan and I cycled four miles down the Mamfe road through Mile 50 and Okorase to Old Asuoyaa. A further mile along an unsealed road brought us to New Asuoyaa, a small farming community. We locked our bikes around a convenient electricity pole and asked a group of farmers sitting in a shady spot for directions to the bridge. One of them, in his green wellingtons (sensible protection against snake bites) immediately stood up and said, ‘lets go’. He led us a few hundred yards round the village to a very precarious railway bridge over the river. I knew this wasn’t the bridge we wanted and asked tentatively for the ‘wharf’. Comprehension dawned and we set off again along the railway line. At Asuoyaa’s long redundant station we met a couple of men moulding mud building blocks. We walked a good mile along the single track, through a cutting and out on to an embankment, before dropping down to the Densu River. The final approach was through elderly cocoa trees.
The Mmetiamu Bridge does not disappoint. Constructed from a framework of solid wooden beams and topped with a buttressed roof of corrugated iron, it looks a very substantial structure. Closer inspection shows that many of the elements have been seriously compromised by woodworm. A few of the floor boards have been replaced but there is no evidence of any more serious maintenance. Just short of its centenary, there seems little chance of the bridge surviving far into its second century.
The bridge occupies a very peaceful spot. The Densu is narrow here and barely moves at this time of year. The banks are densely overgrown, but there was another farmer nearby tending a neatly cleared plot of cabbages. He said that his great grandfather had led the local construction team for Isliker. He was adamant that the bridge was constructed in 1808, but this would give him some exceptionally robust ancestors and mean that it predated the arrival of cocoa in Ghana by some seventy years.
We returned to New Asuoyaa with our guide. He asked nothing for the hour plus he had spent with us, but we insisted on giving him a ‘dash’ for his trouble.
Godwin Yirenkyi’s letter ended with an appeal to the Ghana Cocoa Board and other stakeholders to preserve the Mmetiamu Bridge as a tourist attraction. The original route (probably to Suhum, west of Koforidua) used by the cocoa farmers has long been superseded by the road, so the bridge had little practical potential. It would be great shame to see it disintegrate further, but its fate looks sealed.
The 9th January edition contained missives on the following topics: the Chairman of the Tema East Constituency writing to refute an accusation that he had been arrested; a complaint about charges made for senior school certificates (one of a small number which illicit a response from the relevant authority – in this case a letter from the West African Examinations Council stating that charging was not authorised); a plea to increase the size of the 1 pesewa coin; another plea to community members not to dig trenches in tarred roads as makeshift traffic control measures; a request to reinstate railways as a means of transporting cocoa; a reminder to thank God for continued peace during and after the elections and a letter suggesting it was inappropriate to suggest that God chose the new president as, in the author’s view, both main parties had rigged polls and that, therefore, God would not be associated with such malpractice.
A letter in the paper on the 4th August last year particularly caught my eye. Godwin Yirenkyi was expressing concern about the dangerous traffic on the Mamfe-Koforidua road (a view I can fully support) but he went on to comment on the condition of the Mmetiamu Bridge. I have not been able to find out more about this bridge from other sources, so must rely upon the accuracy of his text:
“Near the Asuoyaa Bridge and close to the former Accra-Kumasi railway line is another unique bridge built over the Densu River in 1911 by the Swiss missionary and civil engineer, Jacob Isliker, on behalf of the enterprising pioneer cocoa farmers who migrated from the Akuapem Mountains to establish the early cocoa farms around the river. Called the Mmetiamu footbridge and known locally as the “wharf”, it is one of the oldest bridges in the country and though it looks strong, the need for some maintenance cannot be ruled out. The tourism importance of this bridge would be appreciated when it is recalled that is probably the only one of its kind in Africa. Dr Polly Hill, formerly of the University of Ghana in her book, “Migrant Cocoa Farmers of Southern Ghana (1970)”, described it as “a splendid and historic landmark that should be preserved as a monument to the business enterprise of the first cocoa farmers due to its uniqueness in Africa”.”
It took seven months before I finally got round to seeing the Mmetiamu Bridge for myself. The first weekend in February, Dan and I cycled four miles down the Mamfe road through Mile 50 and Okorase to Old Asuoyaa. A further mile along an unsealed road brought us to New Asuoyaa, a small farming community. We locked our bikes around a convenient electricity pole and asked a group of farmers sitting in a shady spot for directions to the bridge. One of them, in his green wellingtons (sensible protection against snake bites) immediately stood up and said, ‘lets go’. He led us a few hundred yards round the village to a very precarious railway bridge over the river. I knew this wasn’t the bridge we wanted and asked tentatively for the ‘wharf’. Comprehension dawned and we set off again along the railway line. At Asuoyaa’s long redundant station we met a couple of men moulding mud building blocks. We walked a good mile along the single track, through a cutting and out on to an embankment, before dropping down to the Densu River. The final approach was through elderly cocoa trees.
The Mmetiamu Bridge does not disappoint. Constructed from a framework of solid wooden beams and topped with a buttressed roof of corrugated iron, it looks a very substantial structure. Closer inspection shows that many of the elements have been seriously compromised by woodworm. A few of the floor boards have been replaced but there is no evidence of any more serious maintenance. Just short of its centenary, there seems little chance of the bridge surviving far into its second century.
The bridge occupies a very peaceful spot. The Densu is narrow here and barely moves at this time of year. The banks are densely overgrown, but there was another farmer nearby tending a neatly cleared plot of cabbages. He said that his great grandfather had led the local construction team for Isliker. He was adamant that the bridge was constructed in 1808, but this would give him some exceptionally robust ancestors and mean that it predated the arrival of cocoa in Ghana by some seventy years.
We returned to New Asuoyaa with our guide. He asked nothing for the hour plus he had spent with us, but we insisted on giving him a ‘dash’ for his trouble.
Godwin Yirenkyi’s letter ended with an appeal to the Ghana Cocoa Board and other stakeholders to preserve the Mmetiamu Bridge as a tourist attraction. The original route (probably to Suhum, west of Koforidua) used by the cocoa farmers has long been superseded by the road, so the bridge had little practical potential. It would be great shame to see it disintegrate further, but its fate looks sealed.
Thursday, 5 February 2009
Akwaaba Cadbury
Monday was big day in the cocoa growing community of Kromameng, near Suhum. A team from the London end of the Cadbury Cocoa Partnership arrived in the Eastern Region to see the progress being made with the project. We, the VSO volunteers, joined our Country Director and the representatives from CARE, the United Nations Development Programme and Cadbury to visit Kromameng. I have visited twenty of the thirty communities in VSO’s part of the project. I have always been welcomed and often fed, but this was a special occasion and the community had pulled out all the stops. There was an audience with the chief and elders, an exchange of gifts involving schnapps and boxes of Cadbury produce, the circulation of calabashes of sweet, fresh palm wine, there were drummers and painted ladies and a danced procession to the village school. While the majority of the group went to visit a neighbouring cocoa farm (old hat for seasoned volunteers) the rest of the village danced for Danielle and me. The children from the school were in a frenzy of excitement at all the activity, apart from the seven tots unlucky enough to be selected to recite verses for the visitors. To say they were terrified would be an understatement.
It was certainly one of those days to remember what a privilege it is to be working with the Ghanaian cocoa farmers.
Sunday, 1 February 2009
The Rain Returns
A dramatic storm on Thursday night signalled the return of rain to Koforidua after an absence of over a month. When overhead, the thunder was like cannon fire. The temperature rose markedly and the humidity increased. It also looks as if the Harmattan’s days are numbered, here at least if not elsewhere in Ghana.
Silence in the Library
Ghana is a noisy place. The main culprit is music blasted at peak volume from speakers in shops, tro tros and funeral gatherings. Add to this; singing and chanting from incomplete and effectively open air churches, omnipresent ring tones, liberal use of car horns and a wide selection of very vocal birdlife and you get quite a cacophony. After a while your tolerance to all this sound tends to improve and it begins to fade into the background. It was in the pin drop silence of the Balme Library at the University of Ghana in Legon, yesterday that I really realised just how noisy everywhere else is.
Jill, Danielle and I had decided to visit the University for the day. Not a conventional tourist destination, but reputedly it had a good bookshop (rare to non-existent in Ghana), a botanical garden and pizza within a couple of hundred yards of the entrance.
The University was founded in 1948, as part of the preparation for independence being made by the colonial rulers. The original architecture has a strong Japanese theme and you can clearly see how the main buildings are set out like an eastern temple at the end of an imposing avenue. At the head of the avenue, a flight of steps lead into a sequence of courtyards heading towards the Great Hall. The effect was a little spoilt by the facts that, being Saturday, it was washing day and the student residents of Commonwealth Hall had, by necessity, festooned the courtyards, with drying washing (the smell of Omo was powerful) and that at the end of the Hall, the doors were firmly padlocked meaning we could only glimpse the University’s tower through very grimy glass. With a little more effort we could probably have found an alternative route, but by that point pizza was a bigger draw.
The bookshop was excellent. There was a good selection of material on Ghana. Danielle and I were particularly take by a school atlas with well presented maps of Ghana and the sub region showing population, vegetation, climate, raw materials and so on. The nearby Balme Library (which along with the elusive tower and a statue of three interlocked figures called ‘Nuturing’, features heavily on the 5 Ghana Cedi note) had an even bigger collection of material on Ghana and Africa in general. We spent an hour dipping into an array of volumes. I found an academic study into tourism in Ghana carried out in 1974. It contained the line: “It is an open secret that many Ghanaians regard some foreign tourists as having corrupting influence on Ghanaian society because of their irreligious outlook to life, anarchist and egotist morality, strange aethestic (sic) values and deviant dressing habits.”, but the survey undertaken indicated that Ghanaians were a rather less concerned and more relaxed about visitors than the ‘open secret’ indicated. There were collections of Stanley’s correspondence, a survey of cocoa farmers carried out 25 years ago with a questionnaire not dissimilar to the one we have used on the Cadbury project and a recent, fascinating book on beads. The last included an account by a native of Koforidua, born in 1922 that referred to a dispute which escalated into a war between the people of Koforidua and neighbouring Effiduase in the late 1920’s. “One day the Omahene [chief] sent three of his men to take messages to the Chief of Effiduase. One of these men was killed, the second was detained, and the third was tortured and sent back to Koforidua with his ears cut off.” There was also an account of an ‘intrepid archaeologist’ who took a Land Rover full of corned beef out of Legon in the 1950s, “...as he went along he ate the corned beef and collected artefacts. When the space in the Land Rover had been converted from corned beef to artefacts, he came back to Legon.”
The campus was a very pleasant place to spend a few hours. It even had benches from which to enjoy it. The botanical gardens could do with some attention, but still provided a very pleasant place to walk. Within a short distance of the entrance we saw a variety of interesting flora and fauna. We returned to Koforidua at dusk having had a good day. The pizza wasn’t bad either.
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