"By By You Go Grow" - Letter To My Child
A Touch of Nokoko
by Kofi Akumanyi
I have been wanting to write you this letter for a long time now to share with you certain thoughts about life, my career.
Of course, I am aware you cannot read now but I am not too sure whether I will be around when you would have grown up. And so I write you this as an attempt to tell you my story.
Why a letter and not, say, an autobiography which would explain in some detail all about me, the environment I worked in and the relationship which influenced the course of my life?
I decided on a letter for a number of reasons. Firstly, I know too well that an autobiography would never be riveting reading, probably be too boring for you and consequently you may not read past the fourth page. I agree that I have not so far led a glamorous and exciting life like some of my professional colleagues elsewhere covering wars, earthquakes, assassinations, scandals, and issues that make readers hair stand on end. But you will discover before long that I lived in an epoch of momentous happenings that changed the course of history of my country.
But perhaps the most important reason for attempting this letter, however brief, is that human nature being what it is, they would let my life story to lapse into selective obscurity or forgetfulness by which I mean the affliction Shakespeare wrote about (I don't know this Shakespeare man; I never met him but I read many of his works). It was he who said human beings have a nasty habit of forgetting the good things that men had done in their lifetime and rather remember only the evil that they did.
Well, he didn't put it exactly like that but his poetic excellence may be lost on you being so young. However, after considering the full circumstances of my life situation, I have decided to make this letter brief and give you a run down of my professional career, the basic principles under which I sought to perform my duties to the state so that at the end of the day I could take full responsibility for my actions.
In relating this story I may have to mention a few names about issues relating to my work and I may consequently not be loved by the people involved. Let me tell you a story to illustrate the point.
A man is reported to have walked into the psychiatrist's office with a fried egg on the top of his head and a strip of bacon over each ear. The psychiatrist sat him down and decided to proceed with a normal greeting. There was no point, he thought, in getting the fellow even more upset.
"What can I do for you?" the psychiatrist asked.
The man smiled pleasantly. "Doctor," he answered, "I'm worried about my brother!" Well, I am not really worried about my "brother" if you got the drift but I make so hold to say that what has happened to me and my profession may to a very large extent, be due to lack of unity among my "brothers"-fellow practitioners as to our goals. I can even go further to say that there are too many weathercocks who are ever ready to blow in the direction of the political wind (or storm, most of the time) just so they can keep body and soul together.
Of course, it is important to stay alive if one can make any meaningful contribution to the society and one's personal well-being but in pursuing this basic necessity we too often forget that the great men of this world who left footprints in the sand of history often SACRIFICED everything they had to achieve their objectives.
But pardon me, my son, for digressing. You will realise when you grow up that life is full of digressions.
You see destiny and a combination of factors made me a journalist and I happen to work at this time on a paper called Talking Drums.
The first time I decided to work for this magazine, a friend said I had developed an unnecessary "martyr's complex" - a death wish.
I need not explain what that means since you will understand it if you are my child. Of course you are. However, I must point out at once that it has become increasingly clear to people both inside and outside the profession that the "martyr's complex" syndrome over the past decade or so appears to be the only attitude to adopt if the unadulterated truth can be offered to the people in which case conflict with the government is often unavoidable. Of course, if the government in power is the type which does not believe in constitutional and legal approach to issues then a man in my position is condemned to perpetual fear of being dispatched to thy kingdom come every minute of his life by a mindless acolyte of the government.
In other words, my son, only the tough and determined few succeed to make a lasting impression in a profession full of political minefields. Those who have lost their lives in the pursuit of the truth, therefore deserve commendation.
For a lucky few, when the going gets tough, the tough get going, as the saying goes. Which brings me to my presence or sojourn in this country. I must confess that pulling up the stakes and bringing you with me into this cold weather was an excruciatingly hard decision I had to take without consulting you. However, before you condemn me for my actions you must realise that like a number of things that man is forced to do, circumstances dictate the modus operandi.
Talking about condemnation, when you grow up to understand the under currents of politics, you are bound to hear my name and a few of my colleagues being described by some individuals who believe they hold the monopoly of wisdom as idealistic journalists who closed their eyes to the realities "on the ground" and stuck to principles that did nobody any good.
This, my dear son, you should understand, is an argument of the bankrupt mind, which if it is adhered to, would make the world poorer.
So what do I make of the recent much talked about criticism by Mrs Valerie Sackey of the Castle, Osu that Ghanaian journalists are cowards who lacked courage to speak the truth?
To say that Ghanaian journalists have brought this upon themselves is to lessen the weight of the indictment. On the other hand, considering the position of Mrs Sackey in the control of the media, she is nothing but a hypocrite.
Basically, my child, what I am trying to tell you is that the lot of a journalist in our motherland is a pretty precarious one; has always been, but I and my colleagues would not give up the fight to write what we consider to be the TRUTH in the general interest of the country. In the course of this pursuit while some people's oxen may be gored I shall sleep well, not fearing the visit of the Ton Ton Macoute, because whatever I have done, I did with hope and conviction.
I don't know what you'll be in the future, but if you happen to find yourself in my profession, I pray to God that things would have changed considerably to enable you discharge your duty without the hassle and the aggravations that I have lived with.
Failing that, your case will be like the piglet who asked its mother why she had such a funny protuberance for a mouth, whereupon she gently told her offspring: "by by you go grow!"