‘I have never seen the General vulnerable to any situation. He is always in control’

Fatima told me once. Well neither had I, until it was my turn on the duty roster to clean his house. I spent a week and some days doing everything he asked me to. He didn’t speak much. The sharp contrast between who he was outside his house and his personality indoors was staggering. I came to the realization that he was human after all; and that was like a groundbreaking discovery for me.

He always drove me out of the room when he received a telephone call.

‘Nobody is allowed to remain in the HQ when I am on the phone’, he would say.

On the last day of my assignment to the General’s house, he received a call by his bedside while I was sitting on the floor dusting the numerous pairs of boots under the bed. He knew I was still there but strangely, he received the call anyway. Whoever was on the other end of the line seemed far more powerful than General Abubakar. After saying ‘hello’, the General froze and stared out the window as if he was having an out-of-body experience. Then he attempted to speak a few times, but the words came out incomplete. It was clear he was being cut-off by the caller with  every attempt he made at speaking. Finally, as if given the go-ahead now, he started mentioning cities in the Northern parts of Nigeria and some figures:

‘In Kano, 20. Maiduguri, 12. Kaduna, 11….’.  He choked for a while and then went on to say ‘No, we are not wasting your money Sir, we haven’t been too successful in our latest attacks because the government forces have been a thorn in our flesh’.

Sir? The General had a boss? The whole conversation began to make sense to me at that point. Those numbers he was mentioning were the death tolls from their recent attacks. I had already heard the numbers; I had heard them from the stories the militants told us when they arrived at the camp after each invasion. So I knew. Had the death tolls been lesser, I wouldn’t be any less devastated than I was already. Apparently, ‘Sir’ wasn’t too pleased by the small number of people losing their lives to Boko Haram invasions in the past weeks. He should have been there to see the militants gloat over their kills like some village boys retelling the story of their snail-catching expedition.

I wanted to know who ‘Sir’ was. I wanted to know the person whose voice made General Abubakar stroll back and forth in his own room with less confidence than even I would. I wanted to know who it was that was throwing money behind the terrorists. I really wanted to know. Was he the same person behind those trucks that marched into the camp at midnight almost every fortnight to deliver guns and all kinds of weaponry to the militants? All those sophisticated machines and cameras stashed away in boxes inside the General’s house, who bought them?

The revelation I had after eavesdropping on that telephone conversation left me more petrified. It was like a door had been opened right before me, revealing who the real enemy was, only that he was faceless. The deception of terrorism is that we often loath the puppets parading themselves on the internet and on the news without thinking who could possibly be the puppeteer. ‘Sir’ could be taking a stroll on a beach at Hawaii. He could be walking in the midst of the horde on the sidewalks of New York City or jogging with his dog down a sandy path in Saudi Arabia. Whoever he was or wherever he lived, we should all be scared because he is faceless. If ‘Sir’ was that nasal voice on the phone that could make even General Abubakar look like he needed to use the bathroom, then we should all be really scared.  I just couldn’t come to terms with the fact that a worse-than-the-General walked freely somewhere on God’s green earth yet the General was in the news because he posted videos on YouTube proudly claiming responsibility for every Boko Haram invasion. They are fooling us all. What hope do you have in a war when you don’t know the real enemy? The guy who claims to be behind the evil acts of Boko Haram is actually a front. That is very scary!

Early the next morning after the telephone incident, the militants came into our tents to wake us up. They came wielding assault rifles as if preparing for a war or another invasion. We would have known if they were about to embark on another attack. Before they left the camp for any attack, they were always taken through a series of rituals. I couldn’t tell whether the rituals were for fortification or a preparation for death – seeing that their whole psyche was conditioned to accept death for a ‘holy’ cause. Then out comes the Babalawo from nowhere. None of us had ever laid eyes on him on any ordinary day in the camp. However, the day before every Boko Haram attack, he would appear and lead the jihadists through a series of rituals. The atmosphere was extremely charged by their chanting and dancing. Baba blew white powder over each of them while hopping and throwing himself about as if possessed. He had this eerie appearance. He was barely clothed by the animal skin he threw over his left shoulder. Anytime I saw him, I made funny mental pictures of his appearance, because I felt he was too small to be of any spiritual use. A beaded dark imp was what I often pictured in my head. His whole demeanor spelled evil. The beads on baba’s wrists and waist rattled abruptly with each step he took and that made it easy to notice his presence even while we were half-asleep. Sometimes at night we could hear him reciting incantations outside our tent.

So it was obvious the militants weren’t preparing for another invasion. I was amongst the 30 girls selected and forced to get dressed as quickly as possible. We were packed in the bed of one of the big trucks. The truck took off right after the General took his seat in the front. It was quite a nostalgic moment for me when we drove through the gates: I was reminded of how they brought us in. We were driven to a secluded part of the forest where the grass was ankle-height. The militants went about setting up cameras, hoisting their flags and posing with their guns in front of the camera. Within a few minutes we were all before the camera. The General gave a lengthy speech about selling some of us into slavery and how his aim was to establish a caliphate in the northern parts of Nigeria. Even the Boko haram militants were oblivious to the main reason why the General was making those claims in the video. But, I knew it. It was all just a ploy to remain relevant in world terrorism. He had to do something to salvage his fading image as a sadistic terrorist leader. He wanted to get into the good books of ‘Sir’ again. Pathetic!

Fatima crept into our tent that very night and slapped me on my back to wake me up. She whispered in my ears:

‘Isa, has agreed to help us escape. He will be here at 12 am. Stay awake. I’ll come for you’.

‘Ok’

I kept my eyes open for the next 5 minutes. I needed to stay awake to mentally process what had just happened. First of all, I was the one who was always talking about escaping. So if there was ever a plan to escape, I had to be the one to initiate it. The Lord knows how much I had to fight to maintain my relationship with Fatima because of the number of times I spoke about escaping. She simply didn’t want to hear it.

‘It wasn’t worth it’, she often said. I couldn’t blame her though. She had been a witness to the execution of so many girls and even militants who attempted to escape. The terror of those scenes had crippled her. To her, the mesh fence surrounding the camp was rather imaginary but the terror and confinement she felt from within were shackles she couldn’t shake off. This same Fatima was the one initiating our escape. How she got to convince Isa to be of help, I couldn’t tell. Isa was the water tanker driver; he sometimes drove into the camp with a truckload of drums filled with water too. I knew Fatima had an amorous relationship with him to some extent. She told me how he often expressed disgust at the activities of Boko Haram. Isa was driving the water tanker purely for the money and not out of principle. He was vehemently opposed to terrorism – but he needed the money. So it wasn’t much of a surprise that he was the one assisting us in our escape. What would make a man want to put his life on the line for two captives? We didn’t deserve any of this. I feared for his life because even if we were successful with our escape, he would be going back to the camp every other week to deliver drums of water. They might trace our escape to him and he would be executed. He of all people should have known this. And if the reality of that didn’t deter him, then nothing else would.

I must have dozed off. Fatima with her baby strapped to her back came calling again. I didn’t pick anything. We stepped out of the tent and there they were crowded around the truck. They were offloading the drums. I pulled at Fatima’s dress and told her ‘let’s go back inside, they will see us’. Apparently, she had a plan. We stood frozen in front of our tent, all that while Fatima looked away from the militants standing around the truck and focused her attention on the two conversing in front of the empty drums arranged a few feet away from the truck. I wanted to go back in. We would have been severely punished for staying up that late not to talk of standing outside the tent. When Fatima whispered ‘let’s go’ I knew it was time to run because of the urgency in her voice. The two militants had walked away so we ran towards the empty drums. The rest of them were standing at the opened end at the back of the truck. Our only option was to climb up from the side. Fatima let me go first. She unstrapped her baby from her back, handed her to me and then she joined us a while after. The two of us squatted in the midst of the empty drums while the militants packed more into the bed of the truck.

The engine of the truck started. The drums were shaking and knocking against each other. There was nothing to hold onto. Nevertheless, we remained still till the truck left the camp. Then Fatima stood up and span the lid of one of the drums open. In a single leap I entered the drum, Fatima handed her sleeping baby to me first and then she climbed into the drum slowly.  

‘Today is the happiest day of my life’

‘Ada, Me too oo’, Fatima responded.

She left the lid halfway open to let in some air. I thought of Mariama and the other girls and how I would miss them. But nothing could be compared to the sweet taste of freedom. We were crammed up in a drum, but we knew we were freer than we had ever been in the last few months.

Do white people also come to terms with their whiteness when they come to Africa? I can’t tell. But even if they do, I guess the reality of who they are isn’t shoved down their throats in the most callous way. White people are adored by Africans. Black people are not respected as much as white people are on this continent. Black lives don’t matter here. You can tell that black lives don’t matter here by the way black deaths don’t matter.

People pretend at funerals. There are people who could barely stand the presence of another person even if he/she was 3 borders away and yet show up at their funerals crying Boti falls. I am just saying that people can even feign concern when the dead person was an arch-enemy. So I wonder what it takes to actually show no concern for the living and none at all after they die. 147 students were killed at Garissa in kenya and it isn’t given much attention by the media and African leaders. I don’t even want to put myself in the shoes of the parents of the dead, yet I can still feel the pain here. I was a university student not too long ago, so I can really relate to the plot. We must show concern. We are not too busy to show concern. Especially when our leaders flew all the way to France to join in a march against terrorism after the Charlie Hebdo attack. 11 African leaders went all the way to join world leaders of white nations to march against global terrorism. But when terrorism hits hard on the continent, they appear numb and indifferent to the plight of their very own. Black lives must matter on this continent.

 (Venezuelan students showing solidarity)

In America, it appears the easiest crime one can get away with is shooting a black man and claiming he was armed – even if he wasn’t. I watched the video of the white police man who shot  an older black man whose back was turned against him. It didn’t even seem real – that was how unbelievable the plot was. I watched the life literally squeezed out of Eric Garner by a white police man. Do you know what it means to see a man take his last breath? –More so when he wasn’t prepared? Black lives really don’t matter. Black lives have never mattered since the slave trade. They always make it seem the worst tragedy ever recorded was the killing of 6million Jews by Hitler in the holocaust. It turns out the death toll of the slave trade makes the holocaust look like an under-patronized slaughter house. Black lives have been under attack before we could even spell ‘attack’. I find it rather comforting to see a few white people join in the protests against ‘police brutalities against black people in America’. It only goes a long way to show that it isn’t an “us vs them” fight. But rather humanity versus injustice, humanity versus institutional racism. That is one sure way we can win the fight – when we realize the enemies of black people are of different colors (even black), religion and social standing.

I really feel sorry for my brothers and sisters in Kenya. These are hard times for them. Nevertheless, it will all be over soon – no situation is permanent. There is nothing more painful than to live in a world where nobody else thinks you matter and then your own brother kills you just to justify that fact. Those Aalshabab militants were black people. Black lives don’t matter to them. Boko Haram is made up of black people too. Black girls’ lives don’t matter to them. The members of ISIS in Egypt killed 21 of their kind. Black Christian lives don’t matter to them. Black lives matter, everybody else is probably blind to this fact. Till eyes are opened, those of us who see must rise up and show concern for black lives and about black deaths. Let love rain and reign in Africa.

See? So this is why Ghana may never go into the production of cars. Because other countries produce cars at a lower comparative cost and therefore we would have to concentrate on the production of goods that we have comparative advantage in. All I am trying to say is this, to the layman, the government of Ghana must attempt producing cars and assist private companies like Katanka. But this seemingly intelligent suggestion doesn’t make economic sense. Therefore, what seems logical to the layman isn’t logical in the field of Economics.

When it comes to religion – Christianity to be specific – people do not understand this simple idea. People do not understand the fact that what is completely logical in Christianity may come across as nonsense to them because they aren’t Christians. It is simple, just know that once you are not a Christian, certain things Christians do will never make sense to you so you just have to respect that and move on. I am saying this in connection with the recent frenzy about what men of God say. I think nowadays, too many journalists go to church for the wrong reasons (to fish for catchy headlines). Archbishop Duncan-Williams prayed a few months ago, commanding the cedi to rise! Well, I don’t particularly know what inspired him to do that but I was shocked when he became a laughing stock after that. Wait, shouldn’t we be laughing at the people who were trained in school to fix the problem and are in the position to do so but are fumbling badly like they were being electrocuted?  He is a man of God, what do you expect him to do? Pass a bill? Implement government’s policies? Clearly, he did what he was supposed to do and maybe if we all did same this country would be a million miles away from where we are. It isn’t as if he declared a fast and required everybody to stop working and pray? He just said a simple prayer and this prayer, when its answer materializes, will be beneficial to all of us. So what’s up with all the demeaning comments? For some mysterious reason, people believe prayer is a cheap getaway for lazy people and being prayerful simply means inactivity. Really? It is the bible that stated that faith without works is dead.

Let’s discuss the merits of that command the Archbishop uttered. He said ‘I command the cedi to rise’. This is a statement of authority which can only come from someone with spiritual oversight and jurisdiction over a particular area. What is wrong with this? Oh yeh, I get it, he was speaking to an inanimate entity and expected it to obey his voice. Excuse me, have you heard about Jesus Christ? Jesus was out there speaking and commanding invisible things like the wind. He cursed a fig tree. He healed an epileptic boy, not by casting out epilepsy, but by casting out a demon. I am not saying that every single physical occurrence has its roots in the spiritual world, but a lot of them do. I am more concerned about the fact that some Christians came out to openly deride the man of God. My question to them is this, is the bible a fable to you? Jesus said he who has faith can command a mountain to be uprooted and be thrown into the sea and it will happen. Well, maybe you are right when you assume He was speaking metaphorically. If He was, then it is only right for the man of God to command a mountainous economic situation. Remember what I said earlier, logic isn’t absolute; it varies from field to field. So what is logical in a particular worldview may be irrational in another.

As I stated earlier, people tend to assume that prayer gives prayerful people the impression that things are happening for them supernaturally hence they can fold their arms and look into the skies and manna would pour down. This isn’t correct. What prayer does sometimes is it sets physical processes in motion. The tree that Jesus cursed started withering from the roots gradually. Let’s look at the creation story for example; it is recorded in two different chapters in Genesis: these are Genesis one and two. Chapter 1 contains all the commands: the ‘let there be’s’ and the ‘calling forths’. But chapter two contains an account of the physical processes that were underway for the commands to materialize. Let’s take for example the creation of plants or the calling forth of vegetation. In verse 11 of chapter1, we see God command the earth to sprout vegetation. Nevertheless, in verse 5-7 of chapter 2, the bible says because there was no rain, plants couldn’t grow. So God caused a mist to hover on the earth thereby watering the earth which created an enabling environment for plants to grow. This is what the creation story in chapter2 of Genesis gives us: a detailed account of what transpired after God commanded. This goes to support my earlier point that commanding things spiritually(Prayer) comes to begin or even quicken physical processes. What if the Archbishop’s prayer was actually meant to give ideas to the economic team at the Central Bank of Ghana? What if it was going to quicken the process? A command is a command but there are things that work in the background to make it materialize. And this is seen vividly in the creation story.

On the other hand, we have seen many things happen in the church that don’t even make logical sense in Christianity. It seems the church is the last place to think. The truth is, you need to know the bible for yourself and weigh what you hear in church by it. As the bible itself said, in the last days there will be an eruption of false teachers and prophets. Therefore there is the need to be guarded with the truth of the word of God. Believers must think. Thinkers must believe. Nowadays, people seem to be drawn by miracles and signs and wonders more than the unadulterated word of God. On TV these days, we see so many churches airing deliverance sessions and it is an awful sight mostly. This is what a friend of mine, Abotsi, calls ‘prophetic journalism’ or ‘spiritual journalism’. These prophets seem to enjoy interviewing demons that are manifesting through people. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t like to be in a church where I would hear the voice of a demon more than the voice of God through my pastor. They spend countless minutes having discourses with demons meanwhile Jesus and Paul didn’t waste time on demons at all. They cast them out immediately; Paul and Silas cast out a demon from a girl who was even speaking the truth about them. The truth is you can’t trust the words of a demon. So to prevent confusion, shut them up and cast them out. I believe that a deliverance-centered ministration won’t waste precious time on one case but would want to deal with one quickly and totally before moving on to another. A lot of these things, I believe are just for showmanship.

Anyway, let’s just respect the fact that the activities of people who hold a different worldview may never make sense to us if we are not believers of that worldview. Also, the best way to judge if someone is doing what his worldview dictates, is to look at the originator. In Christianity, Jesus is the originator. So if Jesus didn’t interrogate demons, then it isn’t biblical to do so. But if Jesus spoke to inanimate objects, we SHOULD do same.

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK.

Greedy leadership has been the bane of Africa since time immemorial. Colonialism obviously, has had a toll on the development of our continent. When a thief enters your house, it’s wise to let him know he isn’t welcome. It is absurd to go into a contract with him and agree on certain terms of payment after you have assisted him to plunder your property. It seems outrageous for one to  be involved  in such a self-destructive act, yet our chiefs did it with a smile on their face. They exchanged their own subjects for insignificant items such as mirrors, sugar and whisky. That is the value they placed on human life. I believe I would be pained for the rest of my life knowing somebody valued me at the price of a mirror. We have no justification blaming our current state on the white man. Sometimes, when you think about it, you would realize that neither democracy nor autocracy has been helpful to us. For in practicing both ideologies, we seem to cleverly find a way to be greedy and satisfy our selfish desires.

When I started my National Service 8 months ago, the fare from the Kwame Nkrumah circle to Dansoman was 90 pesewas. As at last month, one had to cough up blood and 1.50 Cedis as a commuter from Circle to Dansoman. We are in hard times. We are really in hard times. The government’s hands are deep in my pocket. The little money you make is taken from you. It hurts and I find it rather disturbing that at this point in time, Ghana is still  battling with enemies some countries conquered many years ago. We are at war with filth. We are in a hand-to-hand combat with diseases like cholera. And we are standing face to face with corruption in a bout, only to realize we are actually standing in front of a mirror staring at our own image. Hence, that enemy of corruption we are supposed to be boxing is ourselves; no wonder we have made little progress in that fight. Just stick out your index finger in the direction of the nearest person around you, and voila! – you just pointed a finger at someone. It is that easy. It requires no training at all, my friend. Pointing a finger at others, blaming them for your woes is the easiest way to become a world class lazy person. Nevertheless, taking up the responsibility to become a better person by fighting the ills of society in front of the mirror is a thing we rarely practice in this country. How about battling corruption in front of the mirror? No! The average Ghanaian prefers pointing fingers at politicians. Well of course we have had (and still have) very corrupt politicians. In statistics, the ‘theory of Sampling’ implies that a considerable section of a large group reflects characteristics of the entire group. With this in mind, then it is ok to assume that the problem is more widespread than we think. This government has been a very poor one so far. I say this without any prejudice or malice against any personality. In my bid to call a spade a spade and not Daavi’s ladle, I just had to say that. Some time ago in Nigeria, the government signed a deal with the Abacha family to return some of the money Sani Abacha is known to have accumulated wrongfully. The family returned $750 million dollars. Not long after that the government could not account for $705 million of that money. Isn’t this amazing and appalling? My point is, usually the people pointing fingers at corrupt officials are twice as corrupt. There is the need to bring corrupt government officials to book and also to deal with corruption in the private sector and in our individual lives.

There is a Twi adage I find very interesting, it goes like this *transliterating* ‘when you see that your neighbor’s beard is on fire, keep a bucket of water by your side’. This is wisdom. In the light of this wise saying one would expect the biggest opposition party in the country to be putting things together to present themselves as a better alternative. No! Members are too busy in petty squabbles. Already, the party seems to be split along tribal lines and personality-factions. We keep hearing about groups within the party like the ‘Kuffour faction’ and the ‘Akuffo Addo faction’. Just this week, there was chaos at the headquarters of the party. Irate members of the party went to the headquarters wielding cutlasses and what not, and engaged themselves in a bloody fight for reasons best known to them. Clearly, whatever their differences were, those members of the party seemed to cherish them over gaining power. I believe even if things change for the better in this government and the NPP presents a more unified party come 2016, they might win the elections hands down. But then again, their desire to win it should be reflected in how they deal with internal party issues. Who would like to vote for a candidate who cannot unify his own party? If he can’t do that, will he be able to maintain peace and stability in the entire country?

I believe there is hope for this country and the continent as a whole. There is hope. I loathe it when people let out tirades from their lips that are so drenched in hopelessness. Yes, things are bad, and if you really think they are that bad, then there is a need to hope for a positive change – a positive change, either in the present government or in the next. I see light at the end of the tunnel. I care less if you don’t see it. Dr. Ravi Zacharias said ‘Show me a man in whom there is the death of hope, and I will show you a man in whom there is nothing left but the hope of death’. There is the need to hope for the best, my dear friends.