CATCHING UP

When I arrived in Kumasi from Accra last week, I was planning to stay with Nuri-Haque and his family like I usually do. On my way there I found out that they were having some unexpected guests, so I had to make other arrangements. My other option was staying with Jayme (fellow JHR placee) and Christoph (the French diplomat that she stays with). They were happy to have me, so when I arrived Christpoh and I had some pizza for dinner and waited for Jayme to get back from the hospital.

I know, I asked the same question, “what was Jayme doing at the hospital? Is she alright?”. She was fine, as she was not there for herself. She was actually there due to a story that turned into a humanitarian effort. Earlier that day, a young girl was brought to the radio station that Jayme works at (Luv FM in Kumasi). She had been brought there by her father, and they informed station staff that her step-mother had poured a bleach substance on, and into, in vagina for misbehaving. Apparently, she had some scarring, but would not be damaged in the long term.

When Jayme came home she described the strength of this little girl, her own pondering on if her paying the medical bills was crossing lines in her profession, and what the real story behind this young girls situation really was. I really felt it for this little girl, but what hits home even more is that situations like this (reported and unreported) are happening all over the world everyday.

The next step was for Jayme to go back and pay 300,000 cedis (about $40 Canadian) for the doctor to sign the medical report so that police could investigate. If she did not go to pay the bill, nothing further would be done.

With that conversation on our minds, Jayme, Christoph and I headed to a local social spot and meet up with some other Abroni’s for some drinks and conversation amidst the booming of hip life over the many speakers surrounding us.

I was happy to see a young lady from Newfoundland that had been working in a brothel with sex-trade workers (prostitutes). I had met her the last time that I was in Kumasi. She was now seeing the women as being less-empowered than she had previously suggested and was realizing that their situations were really dire. She spoke of one Nigerian girl who actually had gone to university and had shared her story of how she got into the trade and why she was staying in it. She had been left in Burkino Faso and had no money, that was how she started. She was staying in it because it was, in her mind, her best option. Anything else, just didn’t seem possible. The hurt that is clouding her eyes seems to be so tragic, but she is choosing to stay.

When we went home, I had a pretty good sleep, but I felt a cough in my chest growing to be worse. I spent most of the day just relaxing at the house. Nuri-Haque came by, Christoph and Jayme came home for lunch. After lunch we all went over to Luv FM, where Chistoph dropped us. I was waiting until 5pm when my bus was scheduled to leave, and was glad to be at the station as I was able to get a cd copy of the speech given by former president J.J. Rawlings who was counteracting (boldly and fearlessly) the accusation from the current president that he is planning a coup.

Close to 5pm, Nuri-Haque and I headed over to the STC station. I was glad that we picked up some spaghetti form a hotel restaurant, because eating that helped us pass the three hours that we waited for the bus. After 8pm, we got onto our downgraded bus and headed for Tamale. Feeling the cough getting worse I took some cough medicine which made me quite drowsy. To the sounds of Whitney Houston’s greatest hits. I dozed off a bit. I say a bit, because the bus felt like it had been smashed by a huge hammer every time it hit a bump in the road (note: there are A LOT of bumps in the road from Kumasi to Tamale). By just after 3am I stumbled out of the bus and into a taxi and headed home.

I got to work quite early the next day, and had a pretty nice day. It was good to be back in Tamale, where I just really want to get down to business and accomplish the many goals that I have sitting before me. I spent most of the day sorting out my mail issues, before going home to relax and do some cleaning of my room.

In the evening, I swept and wiped down every corner. In the morning, I rearranged much of my room and began to get things in order. I have a lot I want to accomplish, and I felt like I needed to start with really getting my personal space in order first. After heading to the office on Saturday afternoon, I got a text from Jayme that said she and some friends were in Tamale and were heading to Mole park to see the wildlife reserve.

I headed to town to see them, and ended up showing them around to the bank machine, and to pick-up some batteries (where they also bought some gin’n’juice and champagne). I found it really funny that Jayme wanted to buy champagne so that they could pop a bottle when they reached Mole park. Apparently, the bottle popped quite enthusiastically, as it is a very bumpy road to Mole park.

Before they left, another entourage was going through the town center. The day before it was the newly formed DFP (Democratic Freedom Party) and what I titled ‘Tamalbana’ (which was just a seemingly random entourage of party people dancing on trucks and in the street). This third entourage had a man on a horse in the middle of it who appeared to be a chief. A few men were in the huge crowd following him with guns that they were firing into the air. One of the men with a gun, who appeared to be drunk and just looked way to irresponsible to be holding such a large firearm, motioned that I come and join the crowd. I declined and headed in the opposite direction.

Our main focus was getting their group of 5 a taxi that was in good condition and large enough that would take them to Mole. After quite the maylay, they were gone, and I was headed to the office. However, throngs of people were blocking the street and the man who looked like a chief was in the street surrounded by a crowd that looked quite hostile towards him. Some men running down the street with guns in their hands added to the drama.

I just kept going and encouraged the taxi to continue to make his way through the crowd. Later on I found out that the guy was not a chief, but was playing the part. He was showing off and heading to a dance competition at the chiefs palace (just down the street from my office). He was confronted near the palace and told to come off his horse (‘get off your high-horse’…pun intended). He refused and was subsequently hit with a number of stones. He took to running, and the guys that he hired with guns scattered.

The guys at the station laughed and said that for one, a chief is not supposed to run. The second part of what they found funny was that when the drums are used to tell of his story, they will tell of this moment that made history, when he was told to get down and ran from stones.

That night, the drama continued. Layata and I were heading home from town when we realized that she left her phone in the taxi. Fortunately, he answered the phone. Unfortunately, he did not understand much of what we were saying and had us waiting for over an hour at the roadside, in a town that takes no more than 15 minutes to travel form one end to the other. At one point, he even sped past where he told us to wait and returned fifteen minutes later.

This delayed our plan of dropping off a wedding present for Samuel, who works at Justice. When we tried calling him, we were told by a stranger that he had left his phone at a local restaurant. What are the chances of that? So, we went to his house, told him that we knew where his phone was and headed home. By that time, I was hungry and tired. I enjoyed my dinner and headed to bed.