Eko Encounters: Mainland Maneuvers

29 May 2012

Today is Democracy Day in Amalaman and a holiday. Nasiru is off on holidays and Sundays and yet I needed to go to work. My driving on Sunday 27 May, though just 3 km radius within Ikoyi, had given me some confidence. Our elders advise that if a man who has chewed the gong gong threatens to do same justice to the accompanying stick, you better get him a calabash of water or better still palm wine to wash it down. Doubt not such a man. Or woman. However, the one who starts cracking the shell of a snails has the potential to graduated into splitting that of a tortoise.

The previous day as we returned home from Ilupeju, I took notes of the main landmarks on the route. A signpost here saying straight to Saki, pass under an Etisalat billboard, exit right where it says ‘To Lagos’, drive under a footbridge, keep to the middle lane, etc. Rough notes.

My intention was to set off early, again using the Aferba Principle as described in the post of 27 May. The rains muddied that plan. I had realised that when it poured in Eko, the normal deviates a bit from the datum. So I tarried.

My control tower gave the all clear around 9.30 am. I set off from home, and made a stopover at a hotel close by to see my pal Ngoni. I was quite familiar with the route to Ilupeju after the tale of one wrong turn. Within 20 minutes I was in the office.

It felt good! Of course being a holiday, traffic was light but it was now the mainland I had driven to! The drive on the 3rd Mainland bridge was particularly enthralling.

My return trip was done around 3.30 pm. I studied my notes on the route again. This was the first time I was doing it all on my own, after taking particular attention. As I drove home, recollecting the landmarks and turns, I realised for the first time how well the directional signage on the highways were helpful, and that I could depend on them totally. Signage that showed with lanes to keep in, where the exits were, and to where. Impressed I was. Can someone inform the Bearded Slanger in Kenkeyman to come and learn sometime to implement for once?

Not bad for the attempt on Mainland driving, even if I say so. After all, the agama lizard says if no one will praise him after landing from a fall from the tree, he will praise himself. Small small, the old lady will carry water up the hill, as my friend Nana Asaase the linguistic poet would say. In any case, even the ant reaches its destination.

Eko Encounters: And He Drove…Me!

27 May 2012

I have already written about my vow never to drive in Eko. That intention actually goes against one of my cardinal principles: never to say never. My colleague Mrs B had already told me I would be driving in Eko before the year is out, to which I giggled. No way, I told her.

The Akans say that when it gets to the crunch, the white man, the Obroni, speaks Twi. My former Unilever colleague Emmanuel had invited me to a lunch in his house with our former boss and other colleagues, and his house is at Ikoyi. Well, not too far from where I am living presently. Nasiru doesn’t work on Sundays. So my options are actually two: to drive myself or to go in a cab. Forget an okada!

When we got married in June 2002, I had an Opel Vectra, my first car. I loved that car; I felt it was a Mercedes. I remember sending a mail to my classmates from Tech via our class mailing list to inform them about the car. From memory I recollect that I thought the steering was power-steering. By the blessedness of technology and my archives, I have been able to retrieve that mail:

From: Nana Damoah

Sent: Tuesday, January 22, 2002 7:54 AM

To: Classmates

Subject: Declaration

Anuanom,

God has been good to me for all these years. This year has begun on a good note for me. By His grace, I now drive a 1992 Opel Vectra 1600cc engine. I am still getting used to it, and enjoying it with my wife-to-be. Features include 15″ alloy wheels, Power front windows, Power mirrors, Central locking, and nice steering (almost power, though I am not certain yet).

So, praise God with me.

Another information which is already in the public domain is that I am planning to marry on 15th June this year. I am giving you all very very advance notice, because you are special.

God bless, and keep the Spirit. More blessings are on the way for all of us.

HETCB

 I am laughing so hard at the mail, 10 years down the line. My signature then was a fleeting nickname my classmates had given me: His Excellency The Chilling Brother.

Vivian had learnt how to drive but wasn’t really practising. I was in the Quality Assurance Department of Unilever then and use to travel on trade visits every quarter, going away for a week at a time, covering the entire nation each year, visiting the key distributors and the markets to assess quality in the trade. When I left, the car was packed in the garage and Vivian who was then working in Accra (we lived at Lashibi) walked from our home in Community 18 to the junction, and had to pick series of public transport (taxi and trotro) to get to work. The first day of that week, she really had it in traffic and got home late. On her way home, she decided that it made no sense to have a car at home and be struggling to get a car to and from work! That evening, she cleaned the car and the early on Tuesday, she set off to work, very early so she wouldn’t encounter much traffic. By the Friday when I returned from my trek, my wife had become an expert driver.

This morning, I decided to use the same approach. Sunday is not noted for heavy traffic. So though the lunch invitation is for around 1pm, I drove out to find the location, and realised how much I miss driving!

Tentative first attempt. I will drive to and from Emmanuel’s house again this afternoon. Let’s see how quickly Mrs B’s prediction comes to pass.

Eish, Eko o ni ba je!  

Ah, o baje ti!

DNAmusings – 27/05/12

Don’t be afraid of being branded. You could be creating a new brand, charting a new course. You could be the next benchmark.

Eko Encounters: Nasiru’s Breakfast

26 May 2012

I had a dinner with my former boss yesterday, and we really had a good time, chatting from about 6.45pm till late, about 11.30pm. My driver lives about an hour away, if there is minimal traffic but could sometimes take him 2-3 hours, and it was also too late to let him go home. So I asked him to spend the night in my sitting room. This morning, I asked him if he wanted to go home and come back, since I wanted us to go out toVictoria Island for some shopping today and perhaps pass through the office. He reminded me that today is Sanitation Saturday and therefore cannot move between 7 and 10am. I, therefore, needed to get him some food, breakfast.

‘Do you know how to cook?’ I asked him.

‘No,’ he responded.

His wife cooks for him, he explained.

At work a couple of weeks ago, we got into a discussion after one of the cleaners in the office admitted that he didn’t know how to iron! Ah, I explained to my colleagues, in Ghana, ironing is one of the key jobs of a young man when growing up. For me, I learnt how to iron even the intricate kabas of my mum and sisters.

As for cooking, even though I grew up with four sisters and older brothers and didn’t have the responsibility to cook for the family, I was responsible for fanning the coalpot, picking up saucepans and also washing the dishes etc as mum cooked. I also had to use the tapoli to grind the tomatoes and pepper in the apotoyiwa or asanka. By so doing, I learnt by observation. From time to time, mum would ask me to stir the stew and taste for salt level, and so on. In the University, I cooked for myself as I didn’t have enough funds to be eating outside all the time. I went to the market at Asafo to shop, my parents sent me foodstuff from Wasa Akropong – yams, plantain, kontomire, fish, bushmeat. It was cheaper this way to fend for myself.

Many of my mates in Tech cooked as well, though some were lousy. I remember a colleague who wanted to cook jollof rice. Paddyman started with water, then added Frytol to the boiling water, next to join this emulsion was the tomato paste and then the pepper, with generous helpings of Royco cubes. The rice got it along the way. Suffice it to say that he ended up with a suspension of rice in oily water!

Nasiru got me thinking again this morning. Is it that the average male Amalamanian is brought up not helping with any house chores at all, across the various classes? This is worth an investigation.

I just finished preparing some breakfast for him to eat. Bon appetite, Nasiru.

Eko Encounters: A Tale of One Wrong Turn

16 May 2012

I got my official car a couple of weeks ago but only started using it yesterday 15 May. The reason was simple. And no, it is not because I can’t drive or I prefer okada. I had promised myself that there was no way I was going to drive inLagos. Not for all the amala and ewedu soup inIbadan.

Eish, the trotro drivers we curse inAccra, who think they are the terrorists onAccraroads will wet their pants here on Eko roads. The driving is not bumper to bumper; it is side door to side door. Who asks about following distance here? A friend told me that in Eko, whoever gets to a point first has right of way! Don’t bring your rule book here saying that the person in the inside of a roundabout has right of way. What way? I feel that passengers in adjacent cars could even reach out and shake hands in traffic! They drive that close. My colleague Mr T told me that if you are in traffic and you want to change lanes, the worst way to do it is to indicate with your trafficators. That is the sure way to get the car behind you to honk incessantly and fill the space on your right or left. And when the car behind you wants to get in front, he sort of pushes you out of your position literally from behind, instead of driving to your right or left first and getting ahead of you. Eko driving, na wao!

So I was waiting to get a driver. The transport office facilitated it. He came around on Monday 14 May and we agreed terms. Nasiru started working for me on 15 May and our first day was spent driving to Ikorodu for a meeting. We returned to the head office at Ilupeju in the afternoon. My usual closing time is around 6.30pm, but can sometimes stay beyond 7pm. On Nasiru’s first day at work, I decided to ease him into the job and ramp up eventually. As he lived at Ikorodu and wasn’t too familiar with my area, I wanted him to close early so he finds his way home whilst it was still not dark.

He drove well on his first day. He was cautiously confident behind the wheel, and didn’t indulge in any expression of road rage. The previous week, the pool driver taking me home engaged in a Tom and Jerry race and naming calling, and, yes, insults with a damfo driver. I had to reprimand him, explaining that his conduct showed disrespect to his passenger and to the company, whose logo he had embossed on the breast pocket of his shirt. Nasiru was markedly different. More like a gentleAccratrotro driver.

Today, Nasiru reported around 6am, we ate breakfast and by 7am as usual, we were on our way. The journey to the office usually took 25 minutes max.

Even though I had been driven on this route since 2 April, I hadn’t particularly studied all the turns. However, on Nasiru’s first day, as we set off, when I asked him whether he knew how to get us to Ilupeju, he replied in the negative. Eish!

‘Well, let’s go. We will see how we do it together.’

I respected the power of the brain, in storing information, even unconsciously. I was able to direct him to the office.

So on the second day, I didn’t pay attention, assuming that he would remember the route from the previous day. I spent the time reading. Just after 7.15 am, Nasiru said ‘Oga, I missed the turn.’

We had failed to spot the right turn we should have made at Oworonshoki to get onto the 3rd mainland bridge. Measuring about 11.8 km, built by the firm Julius Berger and commissioned in 1990 by Ibrahim Babandiga (on his birthday), the Third Mainland Bridge is the longest of three bridges connecting Lagos Island to the mainland, the other two being the Eko and Carter bridges. It is the longest bridge inAfrica. The bridge starts from Oworonshoki which is linked to the Apapa-Oshodi express way and Lagos-Ibadan express way, and ends at the Adeniji Adele Interchange onLagosIsland. There is also a link midway through the bridge that leads to theHerbert Macaulay Way, Yaba.

I told him not to worry and to find a way to turn around. On our way back to join the mainland bridge, Nasiru stopped by the highway and looked in the inside mirror.

‘What is the matter?’ I asked him.

‘Oga, I missed the turn to join again.’

It was about 7.45 am, and we were again at Oworonshoki.

‘What do you want to do?’ I asked, in slight alarm, as I sensed what he wanted to do. Nasiru wanted to reverse.

To reverse?! He nodded yes. No way!

I have seen a couple of people do that on the motorway betweenAccraand Tema and thought they were mad. I wasn’t about to classify myself in the same category, and definitely not going to do such an unsafe act. I am sure it would be against the law too, for sure.

Again, I told him not to worry. ‘When you miss a turn once and you rectify your mistake, you won’t repeat it,’ I encouraged it. ‘It is better to arrive alive and late than early but in heaven,’ I added. Or hell, I should have added, depending on your reservation.

We took a drive through a route unknown to me, and made a turn at a point where there was a traffic warden allowing U-turns besides a No-U turn signage. I trusted that, as happens inGhana, the traffic wardens could override the traffic lights, but well, I wasn’t complaining.

We made it to the Oworonshoki turn at 7.58 am.

One wrong turn had led to another and we had spent about forty minutes finding our way back to our starting point. That is the sense of wahala in navigating through the labyrinth of Eko roads. My boss told me one of the reasons why a driver was advisable is that I would be frustrated with the routes to use, especially if there was hold up, defined by my humble self as gargantuan traffic, and there is the need to explore alternative paths.

I am always impressed with the road network in Eko. The plethora of flyovers that link with each other like taalia on my favorite waakye. And I am amused then when I think of the euphoria and political counterclaims and ramble rousing that greeted the commissioning of the N1 highway in Accra. Only one more to add up to Tetteh Quarshie and the smaller Ako Adjei (here I smile when I recall that Sheiks I C Quaye was rumored to have said that Ako Adjei was named after the interchange!), Tema/Ashaiman, and Nima/Kanda interchanges. Our leaders should do more! Roundabouts are so 19^th century now. We need interchanges and flyovers at the Tema motorway roundabout, for instance. That is long overdue. Our cousins in Eko and beyond certainly beat us in this regard. And, oh ok, in this,Nairobi lags behind paa.

We eventually got to work at 8.08am. An hour after setting off for my 20 minute drive to work.

Eko Encounters: A Missive in May [Part I]

My Boss

Dear Aferba,

On the eve of Mothers’ Day and a month to our 10^th wedding anniversary, I have decided to reflect on my journey with you so far and to appreciate, with gratitude to God first for the gift of you, and to you for the gift of your love, partnership, friendship and companionship.

My mind goes back to the ‘80s, inGhanaNationalCollege. That is where the excursions in my mind begin from.

I started praying for a marriage partner at the age of 14! Mr John Gordon Egyir-Croffet who was our Scripture Union patron at Ghana National encouraged us to start praying for our future spouses and said that no prayer is ever wasted. I remember numerous times when I would listen to a particularly good sermon or learnt something from my bible study and pray ‘Lord, please teach my future wife this also.’ So you see, I was praying into your life years before I met you, and indeed I see a lot of those traits I prayed about. Prayer is never wasted, ampa.

I always thought I would marry one of the numerous ladies I grew up with through secondary school, friends I had made through Scripture union, Burning Fire andJoyful Waythrough the years. So even now, it amazes me that it took a full three years in Tech (Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology,Kumasi) for me to set my eyes on you for the first time!

April 1st 1998 was the birthday of Sharon Quarshie (now Odartey-Lamptey), one of theJoyful Wayladies inKumasiand she was inAfricahall, which was your hall too. I was then President of theJoyful WayKumasibranch. I came to Africa to seeSharonand we had a nice chat at the porter’s lodge. Then, I went up to room 40, which was a popular meeting place for the Joyful Way executives – it was the room of two members of the Exec, Joyce Kyei (now Opare) and Jennifer Fafa Fudjoe (now Asiedu-Dartey). It was in this room, on this day in 1998, that I was introduced to the sister of Evelyn Richardson (now Dimado), a member ofJoyful WayinAccra, and that was you – with your fresh girl face! You were introduced to me as the mother of theJoyful Waygirls. It was a normal encounter. That was the first time I had ever seen you, and we had both been in the University since 1994, well effectively from 1996, because of the full year’s strike by the University lecturers acrossGhana. It is amazing that in subsequent years, 1 April would mark other important dates in my life. In 2010, I rejoined Unilever on this date and in 2012, I joined PZ Wilmar on this same date.

Subsequent to that initial encounter, I visited you a number of times when you wereAfricahall Vice President. I was just fulfilling a promise to visit. Well, that was my excuse for the start! We were both in our third year then, you studying Pharmacy and I was studying Chemical Engineering. A casual encounter, followed up with visits anytime I visited Africa Hall led to a developing friendship. I found you an interesting character to chat with, and usually when I visited you in Room 37 (I believe, you will have to confirm this), I met your friend Patricia Buadu (now Barnett-Quaicoo) who was also aJoyful Waymember. It confirmed to me the comment that you were a mother to theJoyful Wayfolks in your hall. I was touched by that. All this while, I saw you as just another female friend I had made on campus; I had a lot already.

We had numerous contacts after that. The most significant was on your birthday, 5 November 1998. We were now both in our final years. On the previous day, you met me on the stairway inAfricahall, and told me you had something to tell me. You told me I would hear from you later. A note followed via a small boy (who we used as couriers on campus; those were the days before mobile phones and text messages), in which you asked that I come to your room – 18 Africa – with my room-mate Seth Attram-Danso and my friend Hendrix Glover (who had left then for Accra), for a serious discussion. We were in our final year then. I was worried, because I thought one of theJoyful Wayladies had done something wrong. I got there with Seth, only to find out that it was your birthday! I was impressed about how you had kept me in suspense, because I thought I was a master at that.

I had met my match. Thinking back, that was the first time I really gave a serious thought about you. I was really intrigued. During the long vacation of late June to early September 1998, I had began thinking seriously about getting hitched. During the first three years of University, I was not actively considering any relationship, as I wanted to focus on my studies, fully. I wanted to finish with a first class, and later I wanted to finish at the top of my class. I had achieved both by this time, and was well on my way to maintain both by the end of my course, which was a year away. So during that vacation, I started doing a list of the potentials and started my prayers and investigations. Actually, in November 1998, there was one lady I had zeroed in on, and was preparing to propose to in December when I went home to Tema/Accra for vacation.

You were food for thought after pulling off the birthday surprise.

December 1998 and January 1999 came and went by, with some heartache.

I think it was in February when we resumed for our final semester that you must have visited me first inKatanga. You had a message for me fromAccra, I believe from your sister Evelyn. You could have sent a note through a small boy, but you came yourself. Another notch on the special totem pole I was keeping in my memories for you. I wouldn’t say in my heart then, because I was still nursing some brushes from my heartaches.

I recall all the interesting tricks we played on each other, for example asking you to transfer/record music on a CD onto a tape, and you going out of your way to buy another cassette, so I could get the whole 2 volumes, and copying all the titles of the songs neatly in the sleeve; the greetings we exchanged through your sister Evelyn and Patricia, our mutual friend; how I got lost the first day I came to visit you at home in Mataheko and yet persisted till I found your house, all the time you were on the lobby upstairs looking out eagerly for moi! You turned me into a classical music expert, as I spent hours in room 58 (I believe) dubbing songs for you. A Wasa man dabbling in Handel, Beethoven and Mozart!

In the second semester of our final year, my visits to you had increased exponentially! And you were coming toKatangahall, the farthest hall from Africa hall as if the Africa hall porter’s lodge was inKatanga! Your room mate Ekua (who is your brother James’s wife and was our maid of honour) would be so worried when I came to visit your room and you were not in. The clouds were gathering for a downpour…

You used to come and visit when I was busy at work with my best pal Eric Dapaa Asiedu (who would later be my bestman during our wedding) on our project work. And you will still find time to sit and just watch us. I loved it anytime you visited. And you didn’t know then, but you were fulfilling, gradually, a fantasy I had. A personal prophecy I gave myself, if you like.

I fantasised about someone loving me from afar and letting me know. A lady caring enough to let it show. And in some ways, you did that. You took a risk to let your affection for me be evident. And I found the evidence in little ways. I remember once I was walking on campus with you and a guy met us, complaining that you hardly visited him. And yet, you were visiting me many times inKatanga. And I also knew that usually you took taxi toMeccafrom Africa Hall and yet you walked to visit me in my hall, and we walked back.

My birthday in 1999 was a special one. You got a card specially designed, desktop published for me. By a computer science guy, I think he was called Henry. Ok, I may have forgotten the name, but I remember the face well. Anytime he saw me on campus thereafter, he gave me a knowing wink. And one major memory: I wanted transparent sheets to use for my project defence presentation and you indicated that you had some you had used but you would clean and send to me. They arrived, with a note. And a fragrant smell. You had used your perfume, which contains alcohol, obviously, to clean those sheets. That fragrance stayed with me for a long time!

Sunday 11th July 1999. It was a Sunday. After church which was atAfricahall, I went up to room 40 to see Fafa and Joyce. I descended to room 18 with Fafa to see you. You were not feeling well. But you had the strength to compliment me on how well I was looking! It was at the junction between Africa hall and Republic hall that I first shared with Fafa (the first time with anyone) that I wanted her to pray with me concerning you, that I liked you, that you were a nice friend to me, etc. When I got to my room, I told my roommate and friend Seth as well.

Monday 12 July. Something happened. I wrote to you at 2pm, wishing you all the best in the exams, etc. It rained between 2pm and 4pm. Then after the rains, I called a small boy and sent him toAfricato deliver the letter. A few minutes later, my room-mates and I heard a knock on our door, Room 61 Katanga Hall and we were like ‘How can the small boy come back so early?’ In came a different boy! With a letter from you, wishing me all the best, etc. It turned out that we had been thinking of each other around the same time, had written and the two couriers had bypassed each other! In about 20minutes, the courier boy returned with your response!

That week passed at the speed of light, and still didn’t pass fast enough! I visited you in Africa Hall everyday except for either Tuesday or Wednesday (because I had this particular paper to write that I just couldn’t take time off), even though it was the exam week, in the final semester of our final year. It was the last but one week we were spending in the University. I recollect that Dapaa would come looking for me for us to discuss some questions or part of the notes, and I would be absent. Paddyman had gone to Africa Hall, again! I would return, follow up to Dapaa’s room, get to know the question or portion of the notes he wanted us to discuss, realise that I hadn’t read it up yet, get back to my notes, read up in record time and together we crack the question! A special grace for studying descended after a visit to Room 18!

Friday the 16th. I asked you to come over to my room, we went for a walk, after taking some drinks at the JCR Canteen of Independence Hall. We went by Africa Hall and branches ontoOkoree street, by the lecturers’ bungalows. The weather was just right that evening, and we were both happy in our shared company. I told you that there were two occupants in Room 18 Africa Hall; one was engaged and so I was asking for the hand the other one in marriage.

Immediately the birds stopped singing, the wind ceased, the branches of the trees craned their long necks, traffic stopped on that street, nature came to a standstill, and at exactly 9.23pm that 16th July, you said ‘Damoah, I give it to you!’ and that response was within seconds!

I think we went back to your room after calling my sister Mercy to break the news to her. And then I went back toKatangawhere I told my room mates Seth and Felix Afeti, who pounded me!

It was the happiest day in my life!

The ability to assess/appreciate present worth, even small and predict future worth and say ‘Yes’ to the proposal of someone whose only claim to fame was a promised first degree! That is what you demonstrated and that is the risk you took by committing to marrying me, right from the acceptance of my proposal.

I will pause here and continue in part 2 of this letter.

Today is Mothers’ Day. 12 May 2012. Since I got to know you on 1 April 1998, you have been a fantastic friend, confidante and lover. You have been a great mother to my children and a strong supporter of my career, both as an engineer and a writer. You give me space to explore my talents. You represent that quiet yet unshaken drive behind what I have been able to achieve so far. You are an excellent manager and the chief of staff of our home. As you would put it, in you, I found not just a wife, but a good one as such!

Happy Mothers’ Day, my love. I really appreciate you, in gargantuan proportions!

Eko Encounters: A Wasa Man in Amalaman – Never Expect Power Always

As someone who considersNigeriamy second home, I shared the frustration of many Nigerians about the power situation in Amalaman. I have been having the same discussions with colleagues at work and we spent the entire lunch time on it yesterday. I just don’t understand it why a country likeNigeriacannot have steady power. And even when the NEPA power is on, the bulb flicker like candle light (a term I learnt when I spent a night in my friend Kola’s house and he asked me to take note of it).

I remember the words of a former CEO of MTN Nigeria who (reportedly) said that when he arrived freshly inNigeria, he saw a lot of chaos. But on further and careful observation, he realised that just under the top layer of chaos is a system/layer of organisation. The iceberg phenomenon – the top ice is managed by the unseen big ice below the surface. He concluded that the chaos inNigeriais organised chaos, carefully engineered by people for their personal enrichment.

I should find the post I made when I spent a month here in 2009, when I finally understood the reason why the power problem may take longer to solve unless there is a leader who cares not about what his cronies think or a second term – and goes all out to change things inNigeria. I put it this way: The strength of personal greed overpowering the corporate good.

I worked for a company called Nosak between 2009 and 2010, a Nigerian company. One of their major subsidiaries is an oil marketing arm. They supply the diesel requirements of companies to run their gensets. There are many such companies like that, who have made millionnaires here. You think all these guys will sit akimbo for all that demand to go only to NEPA for them to be the one point source of power generation? What of all the companies that are making millions from selling monster generators?

A colleague at work gave a likely solution: all these guys bringing in generators, give them licenses to be power providers. It is not rocket science. WhenGhanaexperienced power issues in the mid-2000s, we augmented the power generation from Akosombo dam, hydro-, with thermal plants. Why can’tNigeriado the same? Recently,Ghanaexperienced power rationing because the power demand outstripped the supply. Reason? Insufficient gas supply fromNigeriato run the thermal plants. So why can’t the supplier of this gas install thermal plants to supply power in their own country? Beats me. I thought President Obasanjo brought in a number of generating units – what happened to them?

Again inGhana, we are having private power providers joining the supply chain like Asogli Power Plant and Tema Osonor Plant Limited. Asogli s generating 200 MW from Combustion Engine Power Plant. Tema Osonor Plant is expected to add 126MW of power to the national grid. Asogli company is an enterprise jointly established by the Shenzhan Energy Group Limited and the China Africa Development Fund, the former having 60 per cent shares and the latter 40 per cent and it has an installed capacity of 560 megawatts.

In a Ghana New Agency (GNA) report posted on Ghanaweb on 13 January, 2012, Mr Haicheng Zhang, Managing Director of the Sunon Asogli Power Plant, stated that the plant alone produced fifteen per cent of the total electricity generated in Ghanain 2011. According to the Ghana Government website (www.ghana.gov.gh), the second phase of the Sunon Asogli Plant Project should be up by end 2012, costing $360million and expected to add 360MW more to the national power generation capacity.

So why can’tNigeriado the same? I made a point yesterday to my colleagues that manufacturing companies inNigerialike PZ, Unilever, the pharmaceutical companies are all running their own gensets and providing power to meet their huge requirements. Some of these sets can supply power to entire suburbs. This is happening right inNigeria, equipment run and services and managed by Nigerians. If the private companies can do it, why can’t the state and federal governments? My take out is that it doesn’t boil down to know-how. It comes down to the will.

The will to want to sort it out. The will to wipe away what I call a national irritation. You realise that I am careful not to call it a national shame, as I am trying to follow the Survival Guide given to me by my friend Bisi not to criticize the land where my bread is now margarined.

If the power managing the top layer will reset its priorities, the power problem in Eko and beyond can be solved, in a few years.

References:

http://www.icafrica.org/fileadmin/documents/ICA_meeting/2009_meetings/US_Treasury_ICA_Dakar_May_2009/5-Presentation%20to%20AfDB_APPIWG_TOPP_2.pdf

http://www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/NewsArchive/artikel.php?ID=227604&comment=0#com

http://www.ghana.gov.gh/index.php/news/regional-news/greater-accra/10090-work-to-commence-on-360-million-dollar-sunon-asogli-plant-