Ghana's (Lack Of A) Culture of Maintenance

Posted by Jemila On Monday, June 21, 2010

Some blog topics come to you in the form of a sentence from a stranger’s mouth, others come in dreams, and yet more from trending topics on twitter. My first blog topic in Ghana met me at the airport.

As the plane descended into Accra’s Kotoka Airport, I thought to myself, “I’m finally home!” As is apparently the case with most flights arriving in Ghana, the passengers broke into spontaneous applause once we hit the runway. That’s when I saw it.

The first thing to greet us upon arrival was a wretched-looking shell of what used to be a Ghana Airways airplane. The engine had clearly been removed, but the actual body was still intact, and while some paint was peeling off it, the words “Ghana Airways” and the familiar red-gold-green colors of our national flag seemed to stare wearily at the relatively spic and span Delta aircraft. Oh Ghana!

My heart broke. I thought about taking a photo, but I was too distraught. Right there and then, my expectations of the “new” Ghana everyone seems to be talking about slowed from a galloping run to a sluggish walk. I blame Facebook and Washington, D.C. for those high expectations. Facebook because most of the photos posted depict high-end areas and events. But then again, I guess that’s the percentage of the population that has the most access to the internet anyway? Washington, D.C. because, despite knowing very well that Ghana is currently the West’s favorite poster child, I still fell for the scam! All those sweet words about showing results, and how Ghana is doing this and that…Darn it all.

I’d promised myself that my first post about Ghana would be positive. I’d talk about finally running into my mother’s arms and laying my head on her bosom (something I (day) dreamed about constantly before leaving the U.S.), or about how beautiful the roads are. Unfortunately I cannot. Not when I see my mum wondering where all the money went, or when the previously passable “road” to my house is now a miniature version of the Rockies. Besides, I think it’s more important to be objective.

So I’ll give Ghana and Ghanaians our due. We’re still in the race. We haven’t given up. We’re still striving. We still have each other’s back. However, the words “desperation etched on their faces” pop into my head every time I take a trip into town. 

Whether it’s a hawker selling water by the roadside, or an MTN agent waving top-up cards in your face, that look of desperation is there. And the sun doesn’t help one bit. But who am I to complain? Everyone tells me I came at an opportune time; the heat is less intense and the rainfall guarantees some cool(er) days.

Anyway, to get to the heart of this post. Seeing that Ghana Airways plane made me think about how unable we are to manage our affairs. Not only do we make a waste of the national airline, we don’t even have the decency to store the aircraft anywhere but on the airfield – a hollow shell of what Ghana (Airways) could have been. How many years has it been since Ghana Airways closed shop? I can imagine all the foreign aircrafts smirking mockingly at that poor piece of equipment. I dare not even think about what’s on the minds and lips of investors and foreign air crews when they touchdown. We must have missed the memo on first impressions being important. Unfortunately, the airplane was just the first of many neglected things.

After going through customs and meeting up with my co-conspirators (in surprising my family), we got in the car and started the journey from Airport to Adenta. Like I said, I’m not here to complain, so I won’t mention the traffic. I finally saw the Accra Mall and if nothing at all, at least Ghanaian youngsters will know what it means to “hang out at the mall” when they come across the term in Sweet Valley High, Babysitters Club, and Enid Blyton books.

Generally speaking, everything I saw, or rather, every public infrastructure I saw was either very old or very new. Very few in between. That made me sad. Apparently we don’t know the meaning of the nursery song, “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other is gold,” or the idiom “A stitch in time saves nine.”


Mismanagement of resources tops my list of why Ghana (and Africa) is slow to develop. Poor Leadership is a close second. And now, I’m ashamed to announce that Lack of Maintenance has joined that top-tier. 

Why do we have to wait until a road develops gashing teeth at its edges before we think of filling up the holes? How many able-bodied Ghanaian men, women and children would we have sacrificed by then? How do we expect a motorway which was built for a population of about 6 million at the time of independence  to support the 20million or so Ghanaians of 2010? And the biggest question in the maintenance arena, do we honestly think that the Akosombo Dam alone will be able to provide electricity for today’s Ghanaian population much more our neighbors in other West African countries?

This post might be considered ramblings from someone who just returned to Ghana with high expectations. And you’re right, that’s exactly what it is. Because the way I see it, Ghana (and Africa) has too much potential to be content with the current state of affairs. Current is even an understatement. It’s been the same thing for the past five years!

Ghanaians do have a culture of maintenance. Virtually half the population wouldn’t survive without it. Just take a look at the mother with a single church cloth for all special occasions. Or the school boy and aspiring footballer who uses one pair of sneakers and comes up with inventive ways to keep them together when they start falling apart. Or even the trotro drivers who make do with second-hand mini-buses imported from abroad. 

Think about the fact that the second-hand industry is a huge and booming one and you’ll know that Ghanaians are not foreign to the notion of maintenance. 

Now, what we need to do is apply it on a national scale. We can’t always expect “new” things, when we’ve barely repaid the debts of old. Unless that culture of maintenance is ingrained in our policies and society, we’re going nowhere fast.

Nevertheless, I’m hopeful. Like I said, not much has changed - the major changes are that people are more gadget-wise and that banks and mobile companies rule supreme – and that includes some positives. Like the generosity of people, the willingness of Ghanaians to open their homes up to you, the desire to help one another, or the sheer determination that accompanies that look of desperation. If we keep those in store and make a few changes to the “bad” habits, we stand a chance. And regardless of what anyone says, keep those expectations high! It’s probably one of the few ways we’ll succeed in pulling ourselves out of the depths of poverty. Forward ever, backward never!

Photo Source: Photo 1, Photo 2, Photo 3


Bittersweet: The "For(e)-bidden" Fruit

Posted by Jemila On Thursday, June 10, 2010

First post in a month! It's been a while coming and it's finally here.

Warm breeze playing softly on the nape of your neck, you gaze up enthralled.
There it is. What you have longed for for eons on end; finally within your grasp.
You take in the expanse of it all. The red-golden-green colors silently inviting you to indulge.
Yet, you hesitate.


Maybe it's because some call it the forbidden fruit. That last drop of water that tips the calabash over.
Come to think of it, it's quite ironic that it should be titled as such when its seeds are commonplace.
At one point or another, everyone falls for its charm and after that, you're never quite the same.
You either get sucked into its sweet succulent juices or you feel the stinging burn of its acrid taste.
Bittersweet.


The silent buzz of a bee draws you out of your reverie and you shuffle across the vast, green lawn to the foot of the tree.
Some say its the exact replica of its ancestor in the garden of Eden.
A physical manifestation of the tests and temptations humans continually endure.
As for you, you consider it a tree just like any other. A sign of life and the mercy of His Highness.
Bittersweet.


Back against the bark, your mind drifts away once more and settles upon the legend
Legend has it that "forbidden fruit" has an alternate meaning; one lost in dusty bounds of papyri
"Fore" - Pre-, Before, Prior
"Bidden" - Uttered, Commanded, Invited, Summoned
"Fore-Bidden" - Predetermined, Called into Existence, Predicted [Pre-dictated(uttered)]


As with most legends, there are those who believe and those who don't.
Those who think man charts his own destiny, and others who are sure God chuckles at man following the path that He Himself mapped out for him.
You fall into the latter.
Not because of the idea of having someone else in control, but rather because of choice.
The forbidden fruit chooses its devourer.


Many are the tales of people - old and young, male and female - going about banal activities, until suddenly - *Plop*
There it is right in their lap: The gleaming forbidden fruit.
To eat or not to eat.
That question sparks a secondary cycle of choice which reverberates throughout the universe.
And so it goes, like ripples formed in a pool of water, the action of one influences all.


*Plop*
You jolt up in surprise. You had been nodding off. Going about the "mundane" thing called life.
But not anymore. You have been picked. Now the ball - or rather the fruit - is in your court.
Do you take a bite and forge into the fluid of life which runs both bitter and sweet?
Do you put the fruit aside and leave it for another to "chance upon"?
Are you ready to make that decision that will undoubtedly leave you different?


The trail of questions continue as you pick up the fruit and raise it to your face.
Before you had no options. Now you have two choices.
Bittersweet.
To be (chosen) or not to be (chosen). That is the question.

--
Photo Source: forbidden-fruit1.jpg