Humour As Food For Thought
A Touch of Nokoko by Kofi Akumanyi
His present unfortunate circumstance is a far cry from what he used to be some 30 years ago. If anybody had told James Nkrabea, the chief cook for the white Chief Engineer in the Ashanti Goldfields that a day would come when he would have to beg for a meal, he would have laughed in that person's face. But then, that's life.
As he lay in the dirt with people standing over him he could clearly remember as if it was only yesterday, the day his boss gave him a gift of a leather belt with a metal buckle which fastened with a vice-like lock. He forgot to ask how to unfasten it. As a cook, he and his family could eat what they liked and lived a lifestyle which was the envy of his friends. How could he ever forget the first day when he put on the belt and had to end up in hospital in similar humiliating circumstances.
After a heavy evening meal, the belt became so excruciatingly tight that he collapsed. As other members of his household gathered around talking about first aid, he only managed to whisper pointing, "Belt.... belt.... loosen.... the... b.b..belt Those were the days of plenty. Now things have changed. He and 14 million others face hunger every day.
One thing Victoria Brittain got right in the article published in the New Socialist is the fact that in spite of this appalling economic situation Ghanaians are astonishingly full of mirth. Indeed, the Ghanaians capacity to absorb punishment and adversity and still walk the streets sporting ear-to-ear grin is amazing and unequalled anywhere in the world.
Bob, my friend who recently returned from Ghana on holidays could not contain his surprise at what he saw.
"The food situation is critical, very critical," he lamented. "That's no news any more. Tell me, did you bring any Rawlings necklaces (collar bone which shows due to malnutrition) along with you?"
"You kidding? I don't have that kind of strength to wear one. Besides, it's so bloody expensive," Bob said.
"What about the much talked about Rawlings Accordion? (visible rib cage). You know Ghanaians love music and in spite of everything the music must go on", I said.
"Do you know how much that accordion costs now?" he asked and I answered in the negative "As much as it takes to keep one's health - which is priceless." "How much in your estimation?", I persisted.
"About 20 Queens (pound sterling) or 10 Reagan (dollars)"
"What's that? Has the currency been changed?"
"No, but with recent experiences about the cedi people now prefer to deal in foreign exchange on the black market. According to the market women, they have realised that the Queen and Reagan are more reliable than the cedi," Bob said.
"I can't blame them, though"
"You should not expect that the Ghanaian's problem of joking with everything is getting out of hand," Bob said.
Attitude
"How serious," I asked "I should think that's the best attitude under the circumstances.""Did you know that because of petrol shortage and endless queues at passenger stations, a gallon of petrol costs between C250 and C400....?"
"You are telling me!"
"Did you also know that the most popular and readily available transport now is articulated trucks?"
"Well, I'll be damned." I exclaimed "How the hell do people ride on that monstrous jackass?"
"It is a miracle how some survive the journeys at all after those horrible accidents. It cost a fortune to go from Accra to Kumasi. The aggro involved in getting on articulated-trucks is enough to make pregnant women, children, and old men and women curse the day they were born". Bob explained.
"Does this form of transportation have a name at all?"
"Yes, it is called predictably - "We no go sit down". People sing the song set to music played on accordions."
Typical, very typical,
