Saturday, February 24, 2007

Jubilee Lecture Series - Part II


In January, I was privileged to attend the launching of the Golden Jubilee Lecture Series, which was christened by the first public speaking engagement given by Kofi Annan since leaving his post as UN Secretary General. While the speech was impressively precise in evaluating the state of affairs on the continent, and major areas of concern, it was just as much the celebration of the homecoming of a national hero.

The actual lecture series has twelve dates (the last Thursday of each month), and will cover a holistic range of topics exploring all facets of Ghana @ 50.

Last night, the topic was “The Struggle for Independence: 1947-1957”. While the venue was the same (Accra International Conference Centre), the atmosphere was toned down. The premises was not swarming with soldiers, the numerous entourages of luxury vehicles were not present, the jubilant welcome and introduction were replaced by a monotone welcome, the musical interludes in the program were skipped, and the full house was scaled back by half.

I sat with Adwoa, and awaited Henrietta and her friend in that auditorium that is growing more and more familiar (I saw Jay-Z there too).

After a lengthy welcome, which surpassed the length of Kofi Annan’s previous lecture (giving his own speech on the topic and listed every step of education, position held, honour received, and many of written publications of the speaker), Dr. Yaw Saffu stepped forward to the podium.

As a doctor of philosophy, Dr. Saffu interested me; I knew very little about the years that preceded Kwame Nkrumah’s March 6th declaration that Ghana was “free forever”.

Over the course of the next 90 minutes, Dr. Saffu – in meticulous detail - went through every piece of legislation, every significant meeting/conference/convention, the evolution of political alliances and animosities between many key figures, and the major events which pushed forward (by over thirty years) the British ‘willingness’ to loosen their colonial reigns and make way for self-government, and made Ghana the continent’s first.

While absorbing all of that information would be difficult for even the most enthusiastic of political and policy junkies, his work is commendable. Previously, much of the information that he presented was to be found in bits in pieces in sources ranging from rare books no longer published, copies of newspapers from that era, the records of British colonial authorities and political parties (some of which have now disbanded), and a great deal in the memories and stories of those who witnessed and took part in those events. Putting it all together in a clear, chronological, singular source is a remarkable feat and a gift to the nation.

He traced the events and riots that put pressure on the British authorities to relinquish power to moderate domestic authorities (mainly chiefs), the rise of criticism and eventual rejection of this system which only modified colonialism, the repression of the unions and leaders that mobilized this dissent, and the eventual achievement of independence. The speech also traced Kwame Nkrumah as the central character, illustrating his ability to mobilize the masses as an upstart outsider in the political realm, explaining what led to him becoming a political prisoner, following how he became Prime Minister under a colonial reworking of the Gold Coast, and then to the final destination as the nations first president.

After that mountain of facts, the audience was clearly relieved that the long winded chair of the event conceded that he need not say anything more on the subject.

Domestic Violence Finally Passed

Today, I was brought back to a moment in November when I was standing on the Radio Justice balcony. With daytime sky was overflowing with sunshine, and the traffic of trucks, motorbikes, and bicycles was passing, I stood out there asking the director of a local NGO for help.

A young girl had recently come to the station after being assaulted with a razor blade by her uncle, and I was looking for some guidance in the situation. I was briefed on the people I should talk to and places I should visit to help her.

“That’s why we need the domestic violence bill passed”, I was told, “if it was passed the government would be required to provide a shelter for her”.

I had not heard about the domestic violence bill at that point.

“It’s been before parliament for almost two years now, but they won’t pass it with the marital rape clause”.

Many of the MPs refused to recognize that a man could be charged for raping his wife, or that rape and wife were two words that could occupy the same sentence in a court room. Furthermore, I later came to find out that part of the delay in passing the bill was the insistence by it’s advocates that an article (Article 29) in the Criminal Code which permits the use of force in marriage be removed as law.

On Wednesday, February 21st, the long awaited, hard fought moment arrived, and the Domestic Violence Bill was finally passed.

Once it is signed by the President, the state will be required to put a number of measures in place to carry out the provisions and protections that the bill articulates. Shelters for victims of abuse, restraining orders against accused abusers, and regulation of the treatment of house help are among those provisions.

Unfortunately, Article 29 remains in the criminal code.

For me, hearing of this news brought me back to that balcony, hearing about this bill that so many were fighting to have established. When I left Tamale, that young girl that had been assaulted by her uncle, and had her life threatened had returned home. Initially, she went to stay at a friend’s house, but after a month, she had nowhere to stay.

If the accountable authorities follow through on their duties, she and others who find themselves in a position like hers will have somewhere to go and someone to help.

Cocaine Scandal Goes To Court

In August of 2006, the Ghanaian media in all forms, was absorbed with the ‘cocaine scandal’. The actual scandal was surrounding 76 packages of cocaine, valued at 4 million US dollars (36,400,000,000 Cedis). This illegal shipment had been confiscated by police, but it went missing in their custody.

The drama was magnified when a ‘secretly recorded’ tape surfaced, containing the voices of a high ranking police official, some major business men, and other police officers. An arrangement to find the ‘missing’ cocaine and divide the profits from it’s sale was recorded on the tape.

Soon, connections to the Ashanti King and the President and high ranking members of the ruling party began to be made. Though the accusations have been denied and stifled, many are aware of how complicated the web of cocaine money in Ghana is.

Over the weeks of top story coverage that this issue received, there was also an exploration of Ghana’s role in the international drug trade. Presentations were made which showed the nation to be part of a gateway for cocaine from Latin American and heroin from Asia to make it’s way into Southern Europe.

Six months later, the tape in question was finally played in court.

That day I had been walking along the beach road of old Accra after an appointment at the Ghana@50 office. The avenue is lined with national monuments: Independence Square, the Independence monument, Kwame Nkrumah Memorial Park, the House of Parliament and the Supreme Court.

After passing through the tall, black metal gate, and alongside the trio of bronze busts commemorating pioneers of Ghana’s legal system, I entered the bright white building. After passing through a series of hallways and staircases, I reached a courthouse crowded in the entrance, both inside and outside of the court room.

I made my way through the crowd to an open seat near the front of the courthouse.

Sitting before a solitary judge on a bench with ten black leather chairs, were two quartets of lawyers – all of whom were dressed in black robes and wore light brown wigs, compete with curls and ponytails.

The ‘secret tape’ had just been played and the prosecution team was presenting a number of statutes to support their contention that the tape should not be considered evidence.

The defence then listed the statutes and precedents that supported the use of the tape. The debate was of critical importance, as there is no evidence strong enough to secure a conviction without it.

During the argument given by the defence, the power in the court room went off, disabling the recorder needed to keep a transcript. With ‘lights out’ becoming an unpredictable inconveinience that so many have gotten used to, the judge and the prosecution were prepared to adjourn. While discussing another possible date, the defence was persistent that they finish. Finding that there was a back-up recorder, the defnece was allowed to continue.

Part way through the debate, one man in the front of the audience had his cell phone begin to ring. The judge, annoyed by the disturbance, addressed the man.

“Ghanaians”, he said, with frustration. “The instructions were simple: I asked everyone to turn off their phones”. He continued vent on the issue, before allowing the defence to continue.

Once both sides had thoroughly expressed and contested all of the points of the issue, discussion of the next court date began. This next appearance is critical to the case, as that is the date that the judge is set to rule on whether the tape can be used a evidence. A trip to the country that the judge was making and the upcoming independence holiday and celebrations meant that they would not meet again until March 14th.

Before adjourning from the day, the judge requested that both teams provide him with photocopies of all of the articles of law and precedent cases that they cited. He added, “Our library is not up to date. Those books you have with cases from 2002 are too new for us – I will need the copies by the weekend”.

As we all rose for the exit of the judge, I went to report the breaking news, and made an appointment to be back on March 14th.


Wednesday, February 21, 2007

I HAVEN'T WRITTEN A LOT LATELY

It is Monday and I just completed a draft of a workshop outline as well as two articles for the JHR site.

Over the past week, I have been thinking of writing so often, yet I have not sat down and actually wrote much.

I have been leaving the house in the morning and getting in quite late each day. Though my observations have been in writing mode, it has been difficult to get my mind into writing mode.

I have four weeks left in Ghana! At the forefront of my mind are a few things. For one, I want to do a great job in the last few weeks at my placement. I have found the university environment to be very ripe for what JHR does. People are eager to get involved with human rights stories and issues. Not only are they willing to do the stories, but they are also willing to take action. Last week, a series of stories on the violent robberies taking place across the campus resulted in a protest, a petition and a forum to address the security issues. There is also a great desire to improve skills through workshops. The people that make the station run are mostly student volunteers with little journalism training or experience. In addition to the group workshops, many one-to-one workshops have been popular.

Within my four weeks I also have a few places that I want to see before I leave. For one, I need to go to Tamale. I really miss my friends up there and I want to see for myself how things are going at Radio Justice. Apparently, Razak still wants to do a going away party for me with the Radio Justice staff. I have been thinking of Mr. Fresh, Sister Saphora, Wakila, Layata, Chelpong, Melimba, Abu, Razak, Somed, Soldier, Vera, Mabel, Phidelia, Trouble, Jamima, Soldier, Wisdom, Ramadan and many others. I won’t get to go up there for long, but I plan to go for a few days.

I also want to see Koforidua aka Kof Town. Adwoa is supposed to bring me out there, but she has delayed and delayed. I have a friend that I want to go see out there, and I hear that the place is beautiful. I have not visited the Eastern Region, so that would be nice.

A good friend from Toronto, Kamau, also arrives in Ghana on February 25th. We went to York together and have had our paths connect at various points. He, like Pierette who came in July, was in Kenya. He will go to South Africa first, then swing up to Ghana. That is really good for his first time on the continent having seen East, South and West on one trip. That is more than most people in the world ever see. He will be staying with me for his visit, and we plan to head out to Cape Coast and El Mina in order to see the castles.

As for plans this week, I will be attending a lecture on Thursday evening titled “The Struggle for Independence” and a play on the weekend called “The Blinkards” The play was written in 1906 and is about this Fante couple that represent in different ways a superiority/inferiority complex between British and Fante culture.

Franklyn and I will be going out this week to cover outreach work with street children, Ophelia and I are working on an HIV/AIDS story connected to the annual anti-stigma initiative taken by Radio Univers, and I will be doing a workshop on interview skills.

This past week has also been quite full. I attended church with a friend from the university named Karen. There was an afternoon youth meeting on Sunday and then a program on the eve of Valentine’s Day. The material was thought provoking (though I mentioned that in my last blog). While he made some points, there was so much that was being revealed to me that I wanted to add.

The speaker was a man referred to as Prophet Eddie. At the end of the service, he began to call people up to the front of the room to share with them what he felt he was hearing in his spirit. Eventually, he asked me to step out of my seat, and to the front of the room. I obliged. He mentioned a few things about my having felt stuck before, but that I was free and moving to a new level. He mentioned that I had gone through a lot of bad situations, but they were so that I could help other people get through the same things. All of that resonated as true. One thing that he said that had me thinking, was that “you have been duped by someone”, adding, “don’t look at the past, don’t be stuck there”. Since then, I have been wondering if there is truth to that, and who ‘duped me’. I don’t worry about it, as I know that anyone who speaks into my life should be confirming what God has already told me. It was interesting though.

Having been to so many churches in Ghana, and seeing such a range has got me thinking. The pastor for Lighthouse Chapel in Tamale is a man that I am glad to have met. He is really genuine, and I greatly enjoyed meeting him. There was the guy that I refer to as ‘Kumasi boy’ who was lying to the church and among other things insisted that ‘Jesus had a three bedroom apartment’. For a lot of people, being a pastor is a path to prosperity or a career option where unemployment is quite high. As is the case all over, a lot of people that go to church don’t read the Bible enough to know how what is being preached fits into the book. Again, it is not a Ghana thing, as we have two 24 hour a day ‘Chritian’ channels that often show broadcasts that seem to have ulterior motives.

Even with the service that was nice on Valentine’s Day, Prophet Eddie bluntly asked people to “bring me your offering”.

On Thursday evening, after work I had planned to attend the BBQ at the Canada High Commission. Being in the area a bit early, I decided to stop in at the Golden Tulip Hotel to relax. With a shandy and some French fries, I sat poolside watching some children playing and doing some organizing of my thoughts. After about an hour and a half, I left to head to the High Commission. The place, to my surprise, was really nice. I should have brought my shorts to go swimming, as the pool was really nice and even had a basketball net.

Though I didn’t go swimming, I still enjoyed the evening. Most of the JHR people in Accra were there. Idrissa was there too, and it was good to finally see Kary after her trip to Toronto. We ate chicken tortilla’s, pasta salad and rice krispy squares (yes, I know that there is pork in marshmallow’s, but I ate them…apologies to all my Seventh Day Adventists, Rastas, Muslims and vegetarians…lol).

This weekend Nuri-Haque came down to Accra from Kumasi. I have not seen him in months, so I was really happy that he was coming down here. I had wanted to go out to Kumasi to see him, but I have not made it out there since I came down to Accra.

So, on Saturday morning, after bringing Bella to get her stitches removed at Dr. Lokko’s house, she and I waited for Haquee’s call from the bus station. We went to get some food and chilled until the early afternoon. While waiting, I got a call from Denice back in TO, which was nice.












This is Dr. Lokko and his wife...Love You Doc!

Once meeting Nuri-Haque, we headed out to his sister’s house in an area called Abelepnke. The way there was to go from Circle to a place called Tiptoe, then through Pig Farm ,until we reached the neighborhood. While I didn’t se any pigs at Pig Fram, I did see an interesting sight at Tiptoe. The heart of the area has more cell phone stores than I have ever seen. You also find people set up all the street selling stolen phones. One guy had about fifteen phones that he had sitting on a cardboard box with no packaging and no chargers. There must be something like 25,000 phones in that area.

It was still light while we were there, but we had no intention of being around there after sunset.

Once we got to the house of Nuri-Haque’s sister Rhiana, we were treated to some spaghetti which we ate while watching Blood Diamond. One of the highlights was Rhiana’s 9 month old baby Dee. What a sweet and easy going baby. She just laughs, eats, and even dances. Oh, and she tries to eat everything, leaving drool whatever her mouth touches.

The next day, me, Bella and one of her friends headed over the Rhiana’s house again. This time we watched Dreamgirls over a plate of Jolof rice. We then decided to go down to a restaurant near Labadi Beach and hang out near the water (that is before the sunset).

That evening was concluded with a house call at the Volunteer’s Abroad house. That is where a few JHR people live and Idrissa also stays. I knew Idrissa was in Busua with Adwoa, but we still went by to see who was around.

Sitting at the table in the kitchen was Eva (works at The Statesman newspaper) and Daryl (works at Joy FM). For the next hour or so, we discussed the issue of ‘Instant Justice’. The conversation was prompted by news that Eva had her phone stolen at a tro tro yard. Each of us (Bella, Nuri-Haque, Eva, Daryl, and I) added our perspective on the public lynchings that take place when people are caught committing crimes. For me, it was an eye-opening moment. As I listened to Daryl I heard the very same words that I spoke to Nuri-Haque back in September while we were in Kumasi. I still agree with his point that ‘Instant Justice is not justice’ and I agree that it only increases violence. Yet, there is a certain acceptance that I feel that I didn’t feel before. Both Bella and Nuri-Haque expressed a similar contradictory viewpoint to my own; knowing that it is wrong and it only makes things worse, but somehow okay with it. The acceptance has more to do with a frustration over the threat of being victimized and the sense (false as it may be) of protection that this vigilante action offers where the security that the police are supposed to offer is pretty much void.

Soon after that, I headed home, having missed the dinner of fufu, to bread, jam and tea.

Oh, being February, I have to shout a bunch of birthdays. Wendy-Ann! Sharifa! Asha! Prince! Ashley (aka Lolipop)! Joy! Micheal Jordan (apologies that I missed your party in Vegas, but I don’t really do Vegas)! Paris Hilton (…yeah…)!

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

A Couple More Photos

There are many more to come, but for now, I also wanted to put up a couple of me for everyone to see.



















This is me writing and relaxing after work at the Golden Tulip hotel.


















Here I am in the library, one of my favourite places to be.
Architecture at the University of Ghana - Legon Campus


















This building is 'the great hall'. It is the highest on campus, sitting on top of the hill with a great view of the city.


















This is a view of the library, which is one of the largest in West Africa.






















This was the first building that I ever saw on campus; it is the Kwame Nrkumah Complex - Insitute for African Studies.
I have written so much, and finally, I can share some of the images that I have been seeing (thanks Mom and Drew).























This man was at the station to do an interview about snakes. He brought a baby boa that he was keeping with a few of his other things in the plastic bag behind him on the table.


















One of the volunteers at the station was braver than the men around her and decided to hold the snake.



















Here, the news team is at work, reviewing the newspaper headlines at the news desk. The desk itself is under a tent and is outside, which works in Ghana (wouldn't work in Toronto).

Four More Weeks

When I first arrived in Ghana, some of my friends would send me reminders of the time that I had been away. I four get a text message reading, “today is one month”, an email reminding me “it’s been two months”, and at four more months I got a call asking me “Can you believe that you are half way through?”.

I certainly appreciate the love, and the reminders were testimonies about friends that missed me and were thinking about the life-changing experience that I was going through. As for the countdown though, that was not in my mind. Rather than think of how many days it had been so far, or how many I had left, I was focusing on making the most of each moment.

To follow all of the details of my time in Ghana is to trace a path full of obstacles, encouragement, challenges and changes; through it all, I have to say “Ghana has been good to me”.

I have now been in the country for seven months as of last week. With the days so full, they pass rapidly. In my mind and in my heart, I am preparing to leave this place that has become home to me. I don’t crave food from home, I don’t long for Canada, and I am not eager about returning to old comforts. The next step feels right though.

There is a sense of sadness and excitement that stirs into one strange blend in the core of my being at the thought of getting on an airplane.

I now have less than four weeks in Ghana: I have stories to do, workshops to deliver, and a handover note to complete. I will not be able to wake up to the equatoital sun and take the tro tro to the campus. I won’t be able to work directly with my colleagues that have become a part of my life.

The challenges that the country faces and the potential that the country possess have become personal. I notice myself saying things like “what we need to do is…”. Even when Ghana beat Nigeria in the recent friendly match, that was ‘us’ – ‘we’ did that.

As the days tick down, there is a sense of peace in doing all that I can do.

Freedom Thursdays

Last Thursday evening I received two phone calls from Tamale. I’ve been in Accra now since December, and have tried to stay in touch with my fiends and colleagues from the North.

One of the calls was from Layata and the other from Somed, both being Radio Justice staff members. During my time at Radio Justice, I worked to re-establish “Freedom Thursdays” which had been abandoned when the last JHR placement had left the station.

The shoe was central to my focus at the station. There were also some great successes through the weekly time slot. One of those successes was with Layata. Though she was hired at the station as the secretary, she would often fill in for late or absent programmers (though she was instructed not to speak on the mic, but to solely play music and commercials) and would be heard on-air whenever a female voice was needed for an advertisement. While re-launching the show I was presented with a challenge in finding committed and consistent contributors. During this process Layata expressed great interest in being involved in the show and became the rock that the slot was built upon.

Over the course of a few months we produced moving programs, and I witnessed tremendous growth in her work. With the rewards came challenges. There were a number of people at the station that felt that, “she is the secretary and should be sitting at her desk”. Others insisted that there needs to be room for growth at the station, and that the quality of the program spoke to her talent and suitability for the role. Through the times of dissent, I stuck by Layata and insisted that she was the best fit for the role.

During this same time, I worked closely with a member of the news team, Somed. Knowing that I would be leaving Radio Justice and that there would be a gap of a month between my departure and the next JHR placement, I prepared to hand over production of the show to Somed.

With my placement at Radio Universe in motion, I felt greatly encouraged to regular calls from Radio Justice about the show. Somed and Layata would call me (mostly on Thursday evenings) to tell me about the guests they had, the topics that they covered, and the responses to the show. It felt great to be doing work down here and to hear about the past efforts having continued momentum.

Two Thursdays ago, I thought that the call would be in the same vain. TO my disappointment, it wasn’t. Layata was on the phone, with a tone in her voice that expressed frustration and disappointment. She was letting me know that she had been removed from her role as host of “Freedom Thursdays” and that Somed may not be producing it any longer.

I was sitting on tro tro heading back to Sakumono as she got the story off of her chest. I was reminded of one evening sitting in Mr. Fresh’s living room, having a nearly identical conversation. Rather than sitting beside her on the couch, I was now on the other side of the country. She told me that she had been removed because ‘she was not supposed to leave her desk’ and that ‘she did not belong in the on-air studio’. Complaints and backbiting had come to the General Manger, and he had made his decision.

I wanted to encourage her to keep on fighting for the spot, but she was tired of going in the same circle.

Instead, the program was now being run between the only two staff members that did not attend any of the JHR workshops that I held at the station.

I have yet to speak with Sam who now works for JHR at Radio Justice, but from Layata’s account she was just as disappointed as I was with the news.

Saturday, February 17, 2007

OK, so I have not been posting this week, but that’s not to say I haven’t thought about it (though I like the saying of my friends Mom, “thought made a man shit himself”, as he thought he could hold it, he thought they would come across a toilet…etc).

This week has really revealed that my time in Ghana is short now. I am down to under four weeks: it was actually four weeks yesterday. I keep on seeing airplanes and they are giving me an excited feeling. I would get that same feeling in Toronto when I felt my time to travel coming upon me.

It’s not that I am happy to leave. It just feels right. With that said, I feel strongly about coming back. As for the excited feeling, I can sense that I will see much more of what I have experienced and gained once I get back. I think being in Canada will allow to unpack this internal treasure chest, and my next steps will grow even more clear.

Today I am going to meet Nuri-Haque at the bus station. He is coming down from Kumasi to chill for the weekend. I have not seen him in months, so I am really excited about that. We are not planning much, just to chill.

As I type this I have Bella kind of waiting. We just went to get her stitches out of her arm, which is healing. Dr. Lokko has been amazing, both on my toe and on her arm.

Yesterday I went with Adwoa to get a late lunch that turned to an early dinner. We went to Frankie’s for a cheese burger, fries and ice cream. We have not chilled a lot recently, so it was good to touch down with her. She has some bootlegs of new movies that she lent me (Dreamgirls, Blood Diamond, etc) which I am excited to watch.

During the day yesterday I gave Mark and Renee (JHR trainers) a guided tour of the campus. I also saw a story on the violence occurring on campus that I have been pushing to other media outlets on the cover of The Statesman. In addition to that, students on campus organized a huge protest that resulted in some public forums attended by the Vice-Chancellor. I was asked to be a part of it and to present a petition to university authorities, but I declined as I am not looking to get too deep into politics.

For Valentine’s Day, I was at church with some friends and it was nice. The topic was “I love you”. It was nice, we looked at Genesis 29, about Jacob and his love for Rachel and I Corinthians 13.

With that said, I have two minutes left at the café…so I’m signing out.

P.S.
RRRRRAAAAPPPPPTTTTOOOOORRRRRSSSSS!!!!!!

Monday, February 12, 2007

The bright, yet thinly cloudy haze of the hamatan is almost gone. Now patches of blue and sculpted clouds can be found in the sky. Evening also brings clouds threatening rain from the southwest. I say threatening, because I have not seen a drop of rain since October.

Apparently some rain fell in Accra yesterday, but I did not see it.

Today, it is hot. I am comfortable in it, but I met a Nigerian guy from Toronto who has been used to the winter weather and he was sweating until it looked like he had been in a pool.

Well, this was just intended to be a short note (not common with me, I know).

All the best!

Friday, February 09, 2007

Jimmy Carter and the War Against Guinea Worm

In October and November of 2006, I accompanied workers from the Carter Center and the Ghana Health Service in the field dealing with the issue of Guinea Worm disease.

Those excursions were for stories to be broadcast on Radio Universe, but they also put me in touch with the causes and complicated factors that contribute to the continued presence of the disease in Ghana.

Guinea worm is a small worm that is found in stagnant water sources, and is eaten by larvae in those same water sources. Human infection occurs when the larvae that has consumed a worm is ingested through drinking. Once the larvae with a worm in it is consumed the worm breaks through the body of the larvae and then through the human intenstinal system. Nine to twelve months later, the worm (sometimes a metre in length) attempts to penetrate the skin. It does this by excreting an acid that makes the skin very thin. Once it sense the cool change in temperature caused when the body is in water, it breaks through the thin layer of skin and releases hundreds of thousands of larvae into the water. These sores are most often found on the feet, where people are most likely to have contact with water, however, they have been found all over the body including in the genitals, the neck, and even the tongue.

My involvement in the issue actually began one day after church at Lighthouse Chapel in Tamale. I was with Vera going home from church when she saw her friend Micheal driving by the other way. After meeting him I noticed a sticker on the side of his truck saying “Stop Guinea Worm”. I had seen a similar sticker on a taxi dashboard and had asked the driver of the car if Guinea Worm was still a problem. He had told me that it wasn’t.

In my mind, I thought of seeing video footage of the tape worms moving through the human body as a child and being disturbed by the horror movie quality of what I had seen.

That day after church, I asked Micheal the same question I had asked the taxi driver, “is Guinea Worm still a problem in Ghana”. He told me, quite emphatically, “absolutely”. After a short discussion about the scale of the disease in Ghana, I took his number and agreed to arrange a story.

The day that I was to go out into the field to cover the story, Ramadan was not around. I decided to go anyhow. At about 8:00am Micheal and I headed out to the Savelugu district about 20 minutes outside of Tamale with Richard from the Ghana Health Service. There were about 90 students from the University of Development Studies that were out in the community and would be spending the next few days in an awareness raising campaign.

After some confusion surrounding the logistics of having 90 students stay the weekend in the villages of the Savelugu district, we were off with a few students to visit homes and see some cases.

After walking down the road for some time, we finally crossed the street and moved through a number of huts. Micheal beckoned me to enter one dimly lit home. Inside was a man speaking in Dagbani as he rolled up his pant leg. As I approached he began to point to his knee where the worm had began to penetrate the skin. He then pointed out the line that the body of the worm had made on his leg, which led to sore that a second worm was causing on his foot. He didn’t seem to be overly concerned about them, but he did indicate that he was in some pain.

Shortly after leaving his home, a small girl of about 5 years of age was brought to sit under a tree. She had a Guinea Worm in her foot that was gradually being extracted from her body. As I sat beside her the Guinea Worm volunteer for that village removed the bandage to show us the worm and then redressed the sore. While the white body of the worm was disturbing to see, it was the discomfort, sadness and the sense of embarrassment and helplessness that I saw in this young girls face that stuck with me.

After seeing those cases, we crossed the street to another village to inspect water filters and present letters to each family addressed by the Chief and the Regional Minister demanding their participation in al prevention measures.

Traveling from compound to compound we found that every single house had filters with small holes in them. Many of the people using the filters were older and could not see the holes due to the effect that long years in the sun has had on their eyes.

Another problem is that many people prefer the untreated dam water. They say it is sweeter and more filling. The abate changes the taste; as a result, many water sources are kept secret.

We also had one young man reveal to our group three cases in his legs that he had been concealing. He had hoped that we would give him something, and that is why he showed us his condition.

After some time going from door to door, we then headed down to the dam where people collect their drinking water from. To keep the spread of Guinea Worm to a minimum, guards had been hired to keep people from entering the water – especially those with Guinea Worm disease.

However, when we got to the dam there were about thirty children playing in the water. When we inquired about the dam guard, we found out that he was back at his house sleeping. Many of those children also had the plastic straws for Guinea Worm prevention around their necks; the problem was that the ones that we saw had holes in the filters, and in some cases, had been made into flutes.

Our last stop was the treatment centre, which was being rehabilitated in order to make it more appealing. Those with Guinea Worm have been requested to stay for free at the treatment centres where they go through a process of worm extraction. The process includes exposing the wound to water, so that the worm will emerge to release it’s eggs, and then using a matchstick to carefully roll the worm millimeter by millimeter out of the body.

Upon leaving, I came to see the magnitude of the problem. Much of the northern region is without wells and pipe water. They rely on stagnant drinking holes. The problems of poor eyesight, the rural farming lifestyle which puts constraints on time and energy, and many not taking the issue seriously enough (from government to villagers) intersect to make a difficult puzzle of a problem.

To move beyond Ghana, and place the disease in an international perspective adds another dynamic to the issue. Guinea Worm disease can actually be eliminated from the planet. It has gone from millions of cases worldwide, down to the thousands. Countries such as Yemen, Senegal, India, and Guinea itself have eliminated the disease from their borders. Other countries like Mali, Burkina Faso and Ethiopia have reported around 5 cases each. Nigeria, which had around 75,000 cases in the late 90’s is now almost clear of all cases. The only two problem areas in the world are Ghana and the Sudan. Given the genocide/civil war in the Sudan, the lack of progress is explainable.

Last week, former American President Jimmy Carter came to Ghana on his fifth visit to the country. The Carter Centre, which he founded and directs, is intent on eliminating a number of diseases from the world. They are the major force working in the country to eliminate Guinea Worm. While the cases in the southern and eastern regions of the countries have been eliminated, areas in the northern region continue to see endemic cases.

Part of the problem has been irresponsible water carriers selling infected water to pipe without their knowledge of the source of their water. The other problem was the desperation for water during a water shortage that hit the region last year, and is expected to hit the region again this year.

After a visit to the Northern Region, President Carter was at the La Palm hotel in Accra for a press conference. The function was kicked off by a diplomatic presentation by the head of the Ghana Health Service who insisted that “Guinea Worm should be eliminated by next year” and used vague language to address what was actually being done.

When President Carter began to speak, he started off by listing the statistics for this year and last. He stated that it is an endemic again. He also shared his feelings from a tour of a facility that was treating 160 cases that very day.

“I wept today”, he said.

He described the root of his sadness in the face of a girl that he estimated to be about three years old, and another girl a little bit older who, “attempted to be strong”.

He listed the successes in countries such as Yemen and Mali, and explained the situation in the Sudan. He stated that there is no reason why this should be continuing in Ghana. TO this he added a threat that has been hovering around the international community to rename the disease, ‘Ghana Worm Disease’.

By the end of his presentation he had been able to lambaste the government for the lack of effort and to highlight their most recent commitments.

He laid out the steps that must be taken and ensured.

All water sources need to be treated with abate.

No one is to drink unfiltered water.

All cases must be contained.

He also suggested that those selling contaminated water be jailed.

The meeting concluded with a round table with Unicef, the World Bank, and the other major organizations involved in the fight against Guinea Worm met to coordinate their efforts and ensure that there is no overlap.

Aside from all of that, that was my first time being in the same place as a President of the United States.

Armed Robbers

When I arrived in Ghana in July of 2006, there was frequent coverage in the news of armed robberies occurring on the nation’s highways. In most cases tro tros traveling long distances were the target of groups of armed men demanding money and cell phones. In some cases, these robberies had fatal outcomes.

In the past week, this issue has become much more personal. Last week, while leaving the beach in the Ga homeland known as Crocro-Bitae before the sun set, a friend of mine was stabbed in an attempted robbery. I had began to chase the man, until he stopped and I saw a knife in his hand. Fortunately, I was not physically harmed; instead, I took my friend to the hospital where she received over 15 stitches to two separate wounds.

That was Saturday evening. Tuesday morning, I came to the radio station and had that Kwame, one of the on-air volunteers had been robbed at gunpoint the night before. This time, however, it was on the university campus. He had been in the internet café at about 12:30am when two men came in with a machete and a locally made shotgun. They demanded that everyone get on the floor. They then proceeded to collect money, phones, and a laptop computer before escaping unimpeded.

The next day, while taking lunch on campus, I sat to eat with a graduate student from Chicago, United States. While sharing with her what had happened to my friend and I on the weekend, she shared with me her own story. She recounted how she and a colleague from the US had stepped out of the International Student Hostel two hours after their initial arrival in Ghana and were robbed of their bags by men with machetes.

This morning, I came into work to hear that a number of people from the our News Department had been robbed this morning. They had been in their room Akuafo Hall sleeping, when there room was broken into by a number of assailants. They were armed with machetes and a gun. After taking phones and money from the four men sharing a room, one of the robbers gave the order “kill him”. The result was that one of the men in the room was shot. While it was an attempt to kill, the intended target was missed and another man in the room was hit in his groin by the shot.

The most concerning aspect of these situations is that all of these accounts are firsthand, based coming from colleagues and acquaintances. Quite often, these situations are not reported to the police; with that said, there could be many more instances of armed robberies that we have not heard about.

To address this issue, we took to the air to discuss the danger that students are facing on campus. The discussion included many of the victims of the robberies listed, as well as the student president.

What came out of the discussion were a number of concerning facts. As it stands, the security is made up ex-servicemen who have no weapons; these security forces are not a threat to the younger and better armed criminals that are getting away with these robberies. The issue of security on the campus has also been ‘in the pipeline’ over the past few years, yet very little has been done. It is clear that the campus has been a place that armed robbers are getting away with robberies, and it is a place where the exploits seem to be fruitful.

The action suggested is to mobilize students to the university Vice-Chancellors office as well as the head of security. We have also been notifying major media outlets and providing them with contacts to cover the stories.

When I faced the trauma of seeing by friend stabbed and having come so close to a situation that could have been terribly worse in a number of ways, I was reflecting on why I would come across such a circumstance. With the events of this week, I see that it is a much broader and endemic problem. While I would not choose to go through such a situation, I know that the experience allows me to understand to a much deeper degree how such an attack can affect you. The surreal effect on the moment, the replaying of those moments in the mind, coming face to face with your own mortality, and the questions of ‘why?’ and ‘what if?’ – all are now real to me.

As a precaution, I am making sure that I leave the campus before it gets too late. I am also going to be helping with the initiative to address this security emergency.

P.S.

Please don’t be worried. I am staying in prayer and not taking unnecessary chances.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Nigeria vs Ghana


After the World Cup of 2006, Ghana made a major impression of the football world. Since the tournament, they have gone undefeated in exhibition matches. They have a new coach, a few new players, and are continuing in their winning ways.


The post-World Cup matches were against Australia, Japan and South Korea. While these are all strong teams, they had night played against any teams with a history of rivalry; that was until last night.


















As the hosts of the upcoming Cup of African Nations, set for January 2008, the pressure has been on Ghana’s squad, the Black Stars, to succeed.


That brings us to the match against Nigeria that was played in London last night. The two teams have been playing against one another for 40 years, and Nigeria has beat Ghana in every meeting since 1992. This fact left for a divided predictions about the potential outcome of the match: some thought Nigeria would continue the streak (seemingly knowing how to handle the Black Stars), while others contended that football in Ghana has never been in such strong shape.


The match was set to begin at 7:45PM, however the opening kick-off didn’t take place until 8:20PM. Nigeria

was given the first touch, and also had the first opportunity to score; though, they did not capitalize on it.


For the first half, the ball moved more like a tennis match was being played that world class football; short runs ended in turnovers, and then became momentum for the other team. While both teams had a few chances, the half ended without any scoring.


Just as the play was back and forth, so was the banter. Kweku was at the house and was insisting that Nigeria was going to embarrass Ghana. I was arguing with Kweku, as we both used botched opportunities, or close chances to justify our opposing stances. Mr. Ackerson gave silent approval in sniles and nods to my advocacy of the Black Star, while Micheal adding ad-libs to my arguments.


Kweku brought up the fact that Ghana had not beaten them since 1992 continually. Finally I told him “the 15 years will end in the 50th anniversary – it’s the year of Jubilee”.


When the second half began, the momentum clearly shifted. Within five minutes, Ghanaian star Kingston had netted a long and low shot. Being that I had declared him as MVP of the game in the first five minutes of the match, I now had more weight behind my talk. Soon after that Munatari roofed another goal. We celebrated. It was just then that Mama Ackerson came into the door and joined the fun. Kweku, has holding his head a little lower, but was still confident that Nigeria was in the game.


Ten minutes later Junior Agogo, the player that I called to score next got a goal on a beautiful finish. The talk continued as we danced and laughed around the living room. Kweku contended that, “Nigeria is going to score them”. I replied, “three goals??? The match is 90 minutes, not 900 minutes”.


With Ghana dominating the match, a Nigerian striker made his way to the net and stumbled between two Ghanaian defenders. This resulted in a penalty kick for Nigeria. I won’t comment on whether it was deserved or not, because my comment will be biased.


While Nigeria sought to get back into the game, a few scoring chances from Essien, Appiah and Munatari led the way for a goal by a late sub taking who replaced the goal scorer Junior Agogo.


And that was the final score 4-1. While the match was exciting, the rivalry will see another chapter early next year, when the continents strongest squads converge across Ghana. The nation is looking forward to the tournament with the reasonable expectation of taking the championship.

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

The Past Week: On a Lighter Note

The past week has brought one pleasant change; the hamatan seems to be coming to an end. Looking out of the window in the morning, buildings that were hidden in the haze on all sides were much more visible. For the first time in months I saw a blue sky. In my heart, and a smile ready to pour out into laughter.

As I sat in the tro tro heading to work, I could see a great deal further, and also saw some dark clouds before us. I have not seen one drop of rain since October, so the prospect of showers that would clear the remaining dust out of the air was a great one to me. I asked the man sitting next to me, “excuse me, do you think that it’s going to rain?”.

He looked at the clouds, and said, “I am not sure”. He then pulled his phone out of his pocket and began to dial.

“Hello, good morning”, he said into the phone, “is it going to rain today?”.

After a short conversation he told me, “there might be some showers, but they won’t be everywhere”. I asked him who he had called.

“I called the office. I am a meteorologist”.

I could not hold in the laughter. “What are the chances of that?”, I rhetorically insisted, “asking one person whether it’s going to rain and they happen to be a meteorologist”.

That night, after coming home, I was pleased to find a package in the mail. It was a few CDs from Gordon, some mixtapes that he made. Excited to get them, I brought my CD player with me the next morning, the only time that I have carried it with me in the city. I was walking down the street listening to a song where Gordon could be heard over the track shouting some areas along the Jane strip, when someone approached.

The guy was around 25 or so, and inquired – guess – where I am from. Rather than reversing the quiz that I often get, I answered still walking.

“Canada”, I said.

“What part of Canada?”, he asked.

“Toronto”.

He then asked, “What part of Toronto?”.

While I hear, ‘where are you from?’ all of the time, I rarely hear anyone ever ask me, ‘what part of Toronto?’. I told him a few areas that I lived in, when he told me that he was from Jane and Finch. I laughed and told him that the CD that I was listening to was shouting out the area.

I asked him, “what part?”
“Jane and Finch”, he repeated.

“What part of Jane and Finch?”..

“Oh, Driftwood”.

I laughed again.

“I work in Driftwood”.

When he started naming building numbers and names of artists from the area that most people outside of the area don’t know of, it was confirmed that he was legit.

When I told him that one of the CDs was a mixtape of artists from Toronto called “Street Loyalty”, he was eager to hear it.

I told him that I would burn it for him. Soon I found out that he lives a few buildings away from me.

We haven’t really hung out yet, aside from just chilling in the parking lot and talking after I burned the CD for him.

Later that morning, I went to visit Dr. Lokko at his house. Meeting him through Tamara was a wonderful blessing, and has allowed me to great treatment for my toe without have to deal with the often sketchy medical system.

He had asked me to come by so that he could change the dressing on the toe and see how the wounds from the surgery are healing. He took great care to clean the wound, and cautious wrap it in gauze again.

After the toe was taken care of, he then asked me if I wanted to stay for coffee. I certainly did.

The first time that I had met Dr. Lokko was on Christmas day. While hanging out with Tamara, I ended up being ushered to his house where we ate Turkey, sushi and a combination of the Christmas fare I know from my family tradition, as well as a combination of Philipino and Ghanaian foods.

The next time that I saw him, he was taking Tamara and her sister out to dinner. I had just come from the Nyaho Medical Clinic, where a doctor with a heavy American accent took 170,000 cedis to tell me less about my toe than I already knew, and had me tactfully correct her that they actually don’t put toes in plaster casts. I asked Tamara if she thought Dr. Lokko would look at my toe.

Without any hesitation or prevention, he obliged. Right away he knew the problem and the solution. He told me to soak for a few days in salt water to relieve the infection and then to come see him for a small surgical procedure.

The first day that I went to his house alone, I arrived around 10am. At that time he was sitting with his daughter Debbie, who lives in London but is visiting for a few months. We sat discussing all sorts of topics from independence and development, to AIDS and the IMF. I didn’t want to bring up my toe, or interrupt the conversation.

Let me describe Dr. Lokko. My first strong impression of him was in the car that his wife usually drives. It is a small Mercedes Benz, that is in good condition, but a few years old. He apologized to us three of us squeezed into the back seat. He said, “I’m not one of those big men, so I don’t drive one of those big cars”, adding his laugh to his statement. On that same drive, while figuring out the best way to get to the roundabout that I needed to get down at, he also told the story of how the tro tro got it’s name (it used to cost three pence for a ride).

He wears glasses that magnify his eyes, making them look quite large. While somewhere around his sixties, his sense of humor and charisma radiate with youthfulness. He speaks and acts with wisdom that age can not only be explained by age, but require attentiveness and a hunger. This is balanced with the humility to laugh and an infectious jesting personality. He is accomplished and worthy of great respect, but he does not take himself or others too seriously, giving the impression that he appreciates what he has.

Sitting that day with his daughter, we were treated to yet another guest. I don’t recall his full name, but his title was captain. He seemed to be a childhood friend of Dr. Lokko and was an airplane pilot with Ghana Airways.

Debbie and I listened as they shared stories. Among the most amusing were stories of travel. Dr. Lokko described the fascination people had with him when he was visiting Scotland. “A real African”, they remarked. He spoke of their surprise at his education, and that he defied much of what they thought of the continent. Dr. Lokko and his Captain friend lit up with the humor they saw in a situation that they had both come across quite a lot over the years.

In between their traveling stories, they would say, “travel and see!”. As one would say it, the other would repeat the same words in a different tone, “travel and see”.

While sitting there, I didn’t have much to add. While answering a question about the book that I was holding in my hands to Debbie, I mentioned the name Muhammad Ali as one of the people referred to in Maya Angelou’s biographical tale of her time in Ghana in the early sixties.

The conversation then, turned to Muhammad Ali. I asked if Dr. Lokko had seen the documentary film “Rumble in the Jungle”, and I got a stare hinting the absurd from Debbie and a grin of a school boy about to watch a classmate get into trouble from the Captain, as Dr. Lokko told me, “I have seen everything about Muhammad Ali. Don’t make me talk about Ali”.

I sat back in my chair with an embarrassed but happy smile, having expected a different answer, as he then began to tell a story of the time that he met Ali.

He had been at a party in the United States when he saw him. He was introduced to him as being from Ghana. Ali responded warmly, saying, “my African brother”, before he was interrupted and swept away by another conversation.

At the end of the event, Ali saw him again and said to him, “there you are!”. He insisted, “I’ve been looking for you, my brother from Africa”. Dr. Lokko was delighted by the memory of the warmth that he received from his hero, and man that he conceded, “sometimes makes me think, ‘why didn’t God make me like that?’”.

That day that he asked me to stay for coffee that this story began with, Dr Lokko and I sat and talked. I asked him, “what do you think of the 50th anniversary of independence”. It was delightful to sit and hear his ideas and to add to the conversation. He started of saying, “what is there to celebrate?”. He then mentioned that he doesn’t want to celebrate independence, which he doesn’t want to do, for that also causes one to remember not being free.

“I don’t believe independence made us free”, he said, “every human being is born free. How can someone make you free”.

He spoke about how Ghana used to be. He spoke of how far the country has come, and he spoke of how much of the dream has been realized and the major parts that have been squandered. At points where it seemed to be going in a far-off direction, he would restate the question, ‘and what do I think of independence?’, and then link all that was said back to the topic.

At one point, he seemed to doze off. I have to admit, that when he seemed to be dozing, I felt a few feelings. I didn’t want to make him, to save embarrassing either one of us. I also felt a bit sad, as if him suddenly falling asleep – to a degree – took away from what he was saying. Then suddenly, he opened his eyes and concluded the thought about the conflict between celebrating independence and being tied to the whims of foreign financial institutions. His thought was sharp.

Later he shared with me some words about being content with what you have, enjoying life, and about his own priorities. He told me that sometimes, it seems like he is sleeping, but he is letting his mind just work things out. He said that he does that, and sometimes solutions to a problem just come to him. “The mind is amazing”, he said.

And with that, we agreed that it was time to get on with our days.

“We can talk and talk, but we have to get something done…”, he said.

“Or your wife, be upset with you?”

“Yes. Or my wife will…”, laughing, “Okay, all the best”.

Monday, February 05, 2007


MY DAY OUT ON SATURDAY: GOD'S SAVING GRACE

On Saturday morning I took full advantage of the chance to sleep in. Staying in bed until 11am, I woke up with the intent of doing some cleaning around the house. The original plan for that Saturday had been to meet with Bella, a friend and a seamstress by trade, to get some fabrics from the market that some friends have asked me to bring home for them.

Aside from putting some of my things in order, I also wanted to wipe down the dusty window panes. With the hamatan season now coming to an end, the dry dusty air is being swept back to the sahara desert; with the change, it felt like a good time to make what is becoming a clear view from the fourth story bedroom even clearer.

As I began to wipe down the window panes, I realized that the screens were caked with dirt. In order to clean them, I would need to remove each of the ten glass panes in each of the windows.

The task that I had gotten myself into was more than what I had expected, but I was compelled by the hope of a clean and clear view.

After about twelve buckets of water, the window panes and the screens were clean. I put each piece of glass back into it’s place and admired the scenery.

Over the course of my cleaning, the plans for my day had also changed. I had called Idrissa and tried calling Adwoa (her phone is having issues), to see if they wanted to go to the beach after church on Sunday. Though I was unable to reach Adwoa, Idrissa was interested, but mentioned a meeting that she had after church. She suggested that we go that afternoon instead. I agreed.

I called Bella to see if she wanted to go instead of going to the market. Idrissa called Sandra (who was also with Adwoa), and her friend Patience. The result of the calls was the it was to by Idrissa, Patience, Bella and me going. I know that in a few weeks, I will not have the option of going to the warm Oceanside for the afternoon as readily available to me, so I really just wanted to spend some time by the water.

While on my way to meet Bella, however, I called Idrissa to check on her progress. She told me that she had an unexpected visitor, and that Patience was taking a lot longer than she had said that she would; as a result, she had to cancel on the beach plans.

I was not deterred. I got to Kaneishie before Bella, and took advantage of the time on my hands to browse around the hectic Saturday afternoon atmosphere at the market. On the street leading up to the three story building that houses the market, I let my attention bob between watching where I was walking and taking in the sights of sellers and their stalls. ON the roadside I passed open glass displays holding recently cut meat. There were chicken wings, sides of beef, and various portions of intestines. One woman was using a machete to crack a thick rounded bone with some flesh loosely attached for an observing customer, when it slipped her grip and dropped to the ground.

After passing the row of meat stalls, which are mirrored by stalls selling an abundance of imitation sneakers, I stepped into the wide entrance to the first floor.

The building relies on natural light entering through the patterns in the concrete walls that make up the building. Set before my eyes was an expanse of sun rays and shadows, falling yellow bottles of cooking oil, red piles of tomatoes, the grey, white, black and brown of fresh and salted fish, and stacks of produce and spices. Through the isles separating stacks and piles, and doting the sight, were people cooking, counting, serving, rushing, talking, and even sleeping.

I proceeded to head for the stairs to see the second floor, along the way passing big bowls of live crabs and the strong smell of fish. On the second floor I found accessories for clothing and phones, household items, and too many other odd items to list.

After a quick glance, I headed up to the third floor. The sound of sewing machines was the what first hit my senses. Stall after stall was decorated with hanging bunches of fabrics, and about half of them had people at work sewing together outfits.

I browsed through the stalls touching the fabrics that caught my attention. After one woman, the daughter of one of the shopkeepers let me know that she wanted me to be her friend, Bella called me to tell me that she had arrived. I quickly made my exit, and climbed down the stairs, and headed down the street to the chaos of the tro tro yard.

From there, after cutting through the confusion of an argument bordering a full out fight, we were on our way on the first of three vehicles that would bring us to our destination.

By that time it was close to three in the afternoon. The sun was still up and warm, but the breeze off of the ocean took away the feeling of really being hot. Deciding that it was too late in the day to swim, we picked up with a group from a college in Accra and played some football.

As that entourage was getting ready to leave, we too decided that we should get going before it began to get dark. After a few minutes, we left the beach and headed about 100 metres from the water to the roadside to catch a taxi.

As we walked along the road, we noticed many of the older women in the red and black outfits that had been seen so frequently in the past week with the funeral of the Ga King. The beach that we were at, near Coco Bitae, is in the heartland of the Ga nation.

With people ahead of us and behind us, we began to walk down the road as we attempted to flag down a taxi. After a minute or so, I told Bella that I had to pee in the bush. I walked about 10 feet down a dirt road to do just that.

Just after finishing, I was shocked to turn to hear Bella screaming. She started to run towards me, then changed directions and ran towards the road. There was a man chasing, so I ran towards them. In the process Bella through her phone in the air to me, and while still running in their direction, I caught it.

While she had been waiting for me, she had noticed someone running towards her out of the corner of her eye. He had tried to snatch the phone in her hand, however, she pulled the phone and turned her body just in time to send him running into the bush. He then got back out and started running towards her. That was when I had first realized that something was wrong.

Now with the phone in my hand, and him grabbing her, I screamed at the guy, “Yo, what are you doing? What do you think you are doing?”. As I got close to them he began to run down the road toward the beach with her back in his hand. I proceeded to chase him, when he stopped and I saw the silver of a knife in his hand. A stream of thoughts went through my mind that caused me to stop, and brace myself for any move that he might make. I looked at him in his face, then he turned again and ran down the road.

I quickly ran back to Bella to see her bouncing on her feet, with her arm limp, and crying. One man came and tied a bandana around the top of her arm. I looked and saw a deep wound near her elbow pouring with blood, so I took the small raptors towel that had been in my hand and tied over the wound. A couple of cars passed us before I stood out in front of a vehicle that stopped to help us. Four large men jumped out of the car.

As I explained what had happened, two of the men had brought a man over to me and asked me, “do you know him?”. I told them, “no”. They told me that he had said he knows me, and he pleaded with me, “please, you know me”. He was the guy that had tied the bandana on her arm, and I was getting to understand what they meant; I told them, “I don’t know him, but he is the one who helped us”. They suspected he was the thief and were ready to beat him senseless, if not to death.

With that, they let him out of their grip and we piled into the car, four of us in the back seat. Racing along the two lane beach road, the driver kept his hand on the horn and passed the other traffic to bring us to the local hospital. I held Bella’s arm up, and repeated that it was going to be okay.

Once at the hospital, the situation played out like I had seen in so many movies. The nurse told us to go and take a seat, and I refused telling her what happened and that we needed to see a doctor.

Thankfully, she realized the gravity of the situation and brought us to a room where Bella’s wounds could be assessed and stictched.

With the two deep stab wounds – one near her shoulder and one just above the inside of her elbow – the blood was flowing heavily. Major veins had been cut, and it required stitches inside and outside. I stood there squeezing the top of her shoulder to slow the flow of the blood and put my sweater over her eyes so that she would not see what was going on.

The next 45 minutes consisted of explaining what was happening to Bella, reassuring her that things would be okay, making phone calls to her family, answering both of our phones and attempting to arrange a ride from the hospital. Not counting the inner stitches, she had eight for one cut and four for the other.

Once the nurse was finished with the stitching, I paid the hospital and collected the medication that she would need. We then walked to the roadside to catch a taxi, as we could not get anyone to come and drive us. Walking, I told Bella that I was sorry for what had happened. She told me that it was not my fault, but we didn’t talk much about it. I told her, “I don’t know what to say”. Once we were in a taxi on our way, we got a call to turn back and pick up her sister Millie who had arrived at the hospital. It was not until we began to explain to Mille what happened that we really spoke about the whole situation.

After going back to get her we went together back to Bella’s house. With it being late, and having not fully registered what had happened, I stayed at the house. Together, Millie and I did our best to make sure Bella was alright

That night, we felt grateful that we were safe. After listening to Bella, I realized that the robber had been swinging the knife towards her chest, but she had turned her body when she was throwing the phone to me, and the knife came into her left arm instead.

I also let her know that one of the men that helped us had found her purse on the road, which had dropped out of the bag. All that the guy got away with was a bag and a beach towel. Not that any of the materials mattered, but it made something so insane (to attack someone and endanger their life for a phone that will sell for no more than 100,000 cedis which is about $12 Canadian).

All of the conversations about what had happened were centred on God’s grace and protection.

That night, I didn’t sleep well.

All night, and even up until today a few images keep passing through my mind. I keep seeing myself standing in front of that guy, with the knife in his hand, prepared for any move he might make. I also keep seeing Bella at the side of the road, with her arm limp and bleeding.

Thoughts swirled in my mind. Why he didn’t try to take the phone from me which was in my hand? Why he didn’t try to take the bag that I had on my shoulder? What made him turn and run while I was facing him? I thought of how the situation could have been much worse. I also thought of if we had of caught him. The crowd of people would most likely have killed him. What would have I done?

I couldn’t answer that. When I saw the knife and I saw what he did to Bella, that was the first time that I ever felt like I could have taken a life. At that time, it seemed that it would not have even bothered me.

Thoughts that he is also a person and thoughts of Stephen in the book of Acts being stoned asking God to forgive the people and not to lay it to their charge conflicted with the imagination of having had a gun to shoot him or having caught him.

Yesterday, Mama Ackerson and I went over to visit Bella. Today, I brought her to see Dr. Lokko who changed the dressing on her wounds and will take the stitches out next week.

I think of what happened, but I know that fear is not to rule me. It can’t take dominion over me in my person or in my thoughts. I take the wisdom of caution from this, and I will not fight the alertness it has stirred, but I will not be jaded either.

God spared us from so much. He attempted to stab her in her chest. He could have tried to attack me. We got away with our lives. We were protected by His grace.