When I was learning to stride the Unicorn in the town Osagyefo built, my colleagues used to make fun of those of us who didn’t indulge in the water-like substance (and associated forms of same) Wofa Kapokyikyi favoured. However, when we went out for functions, the Safety Manager would point to people like us and ask our colleagues to get us to drive them home if they felt the earth was moving too frequently at the end of the events.
At every funeral in Sikaman, it is deemed wise if there are a few people who can be trusted to keep sober when the drink Kofi Akpabli calls ‘Yes We Can’ flows like a river. The entire populace of the village cannot, and should never, be drunk at the same time.
Like this drink, politics has a great potency of making us drunk. But, in the same way, we should have a portion of the village keeping away from drinking deep; ideally, not even tasting at all. The entire village cannot be in political stupor at the same time.
This is why it is worrying that our chiefs are not just tasting this drink of politics but actually running their own blue kiosks and selecting their drinking partners and clients.
In this nation, who speaks and all the various shades of political parties listen to with respect? How many of our elders can we trust as the proverbial old lady that we all run to for balanced advice and wisdom? How many people do we have in Sikaman presently who transcend our political fiefdoms?
We say “sε opanin dware wie a na nsuo asa”; the elder finishes bathing, then the water is finished, meaning “when an elderly person finishes talking, all other talk must cease”. But what if the Opanyin rushes to start bathing before everyone else?
Nsempiisms. My mouth has fallen.