The Chronicles of Cemetery LA JSS: A Priceless Trophy from an Unexpected Adventure.

I recently came across my beloved Bournvita-branded T-shirt and immediately got inspired to recount the event that led to the trophy. The year was 1999. The atmosphere in the Mawuko Girls' Dining Hall was filled with the sound of bouncing balls and the grunts of determined players. I, a mere spectator, was supposed to be home by midday (after attending a weekend class on Mawuli JSS campus earlier in the day). However, fate it seemed, had other plans. I found myself cheering for my schoolmates who registered for the tournament and therefore could not show up for the morning class: Selase Tsigbeh, Ernest Gavor, Eli Avenyo, Kennedy Nketiah and Francis Tome.

One of the tournament officials, a man with a booming voice and a thick moustache, announced that spectators who are interested in playing could register. “Anyone can join!” he roared, with his voice echoing through the hall. A wave of disbelief washed over me. Me? Play table tennis on a big board? My heart hammered against my ribs. But the lure of the competition and the thrill of the unexpected proved too strong: I hesitantly signed up. And then, the draw. When I looked at the sheet of paper, my eyes widened in disbelief. My opponent was Pythagoras Degboe: one of our school's table tennis champions. Pytha was a good player and had consistently demolished me on those tiny and lopsided school desks that were usually partitioned with two uneven stones and crooked sticks. Panic swelled within me. I had never played on a proper table tennis board, let alone with a professional bat. This was a disaster waiting to happen. “Who sent me koraa?”, I said quietly to myself.

The match began. Pytha, with a cocky grin, served. The ball zoomed at me. I fumbled, and my bat clattered against the table. To my astonishment, the ball bounced off the bat and landed squarely on his side. Pytha was thrown off guard and could not return the ball. I got emboldened and somehow managed to return a few serves. The crowd, initially silent, began to murmur. I was sure the ‘Sanballats’ and the ‘Tobiahs’ among them wondered, “who is this clumsy player who seems to be enjoying some sort of a supernatural favour.”  Pytha, losing his cool, started making unforced errors. And then, to my utter disbelief, I won two sets. A wretched spectator had defeated a school champion.

Excited, I moved on to the next round. My opponent, a well-trained player from Ketu South district, arrived with his own coach, a man with a stern face. That match was a massacre. I was outclassed, outmanoeuvred, and utterly humiliated. The final score? A soul-crushing 20-2 in both sets; I did not even know how I got the 2 points. For the entire period, I was made a ball boy against my will; going up and down, fetching balls that were ‘smashed’ on my side of the table. Despite the crushing defeat, I felt a strange sense of satisfaction. The accidental participant had won a match and even received a Cadbury's Bournvita-branded T-shirt as a prize. I was the only one from my school who could boast of such a glorious reward.

Lost in the excitement of the tournament, I completely forgot about time. By the time the final match was over and the champions crowned, it was late afternoon. The walk home was a long and agonizing one. I knew the fate that awaited me. My uncle, a man of routine and order, would be furious. As expected, Uncle Peter’s wrath was swift, terrifying and comforting at the same time. After a lengthy lecture on the importance of punctuality and the perils of disobedience, I was ‘grounded’. Tears welled up in my eyes, but then a look at my Bournvita T-shirt gave more than enough consolation. After all was said and done, some valuable life's lessons were learnt.

Ing. Surv. Gameli Kormla Agboada

4th January 2025

OVER 10 YEARS OF DEDICATION AND HARDWORK – Ing. Surv. Gameli Kormla Agboada

When given the opportunity to say something about my long service with my company, this was what I had to say...

The privilege of being part of the pioneering team of Ghana Gas gave me a strong sense of duty towards the continuous nurturing of a relatively young and promising company into a huge success story on the global stage. It’s been over 10 years already and my experience with Ghana Gas so far has been a memorable one.

The first day I stepped foot in the newly rented ‘seat-deficient’ No. 10 Drake Avenue property at the Airport Residential Area (the initial location of the Ghana Gas Head Office), I knew there was a need to brace up for the challenge ahead. Nine engineers, from GNPC, TOR, BOST & EC, had to share five seats for the first few weeks; Messrs. Robert Lartey, Charles Anafi and I used to share a single seat, anytime duty demanded that I moved from the project site (Atuabo) to the head office (Accra). We quickly developed the expertise of taking turns seamlessly. Some corporate meetings were even held while literally standing on our feet. In one of those meetings, Dr. Sipa Yankey (the first CEO) was introduced to the team. My first interaction with him was an inspiring one.

In the early days at the head office, lunch breaks were complicated as there were not many options in terms of availability of diners within the vicinity. A ‘bush’canteen, which was located opposite the entrance of the Osibisa Close, was eventually discovered and I can vividly recall Dr. Asante’s notable role in ensuring that everybody’s ‘fufu’ was well decorated with ‘akrantie’ throughout the first 3-days of discovery. The euphoria around those benevolent acts even earned one of the team members the nickname, ‘Akrantie’; the camaraderie among the team was simply adorable. In less than a month, the workforce doubled and the entire staff was temporarily relocated to Holi Flats Apartments as the Drake Avenue facility had to undergo a facelift. Within this period, I was mainly involved in land acquisition, supervision of survey works (Cadastral, Topographic and Geotechnical) and community sensitization at the project site. I recall, with a smile, my first encounter with Kudus Mayaya (one of our security men) who mistook me for an intruder and nearly evicted me from the head office during one of my visits from the project site; many thanks to Richard Nelson (a pioneering IT officer) for quickly intervening.

As a Geomatic Engineer, working together with a team that was expected to build the Early Phase Gas Infrastructure Project in a record time, the project site became my second home. Ensuring the selection of a suitable location for the country’s first gas processing plant and optimum routes for both offshore and onshore gas pipelines was a crucial assignment I had to deal with; I am forever grateful to Dr. Ben Asante and Mr. Victor Sunu-Attah for their mentorship and support. I also garnered a lot of experience whiles working with Sinopec International Petroleum Services Corporation (the main contractor) and their sub-contractors on the engineering and construction of the infrastructure. I recall the contributory role I played in extensive community/stakeholder engagement exercises with Messrs. Joseph Djeni, Abraham Roberts (of blessed memory) and Mieza-Mea Alleah. Some of these engagements even took me offshore, where I navigated around fishing nets cast by fishers across our survey routes.

In 2012, the arrival of a group of brilliant Ghanaian engineers to the project site brought great joy and renewed energy. I had the pleasure of showing them around our various project sites between Atuabo and Takoradi. Crop enumeration and compensation to project-affected-people and construction works started not long afterwards, and it was all about devotion to a noble cause. In fact, the high expectation from management and the entire Ghanaian populace motivated us to keep going. At a point in time, a communique was issued to put every annual leave request on a temporary hold, and construction activities at the Gas Processing Plant site were executed and supervised both day and night. I was ecstatic when our team effort was beautifully rewarded with ‘First Gas’ in November, 2014.

Many good things have happened to the company since ‘First Gas’ and there would never be enough time to tell it all. Presently, my daily routine as a Construction Manager involves interaction with contractors, project team members from different departments, government agencies and other stakeholders on a number of gas infrastructure expansion projects as well as corporate social responsibility projects. In addition to that, I advise on feasibility of new projects in terms of suitability of proposed locations, land acquisition and other related issues. A memorable day in my career was in May 2021, where I had to step into the witness box for the first time in my life, at the Sekondi High Court, in a lawsuit between an influential project-affected-person and Ghana Gas; Panin Fredua-Agyemang and Francis Augustus Badu were there to represent the Legal and Community Relations departments respectively. It is also worth noting that, working with the Commercial department in prospecting for new gas off-takers has always given me a feeling of fulfilment. Furthermore, my role in aerial surveillance exercises on our infrastructure (with the Marine and Security department) cannot be left unmentioned. Aside my core duties, I have developed the passion for mentoring interns and national service personnel in developing relevant soft skills that, I believe, would enhance their productivity in the corporate environment.

In the course of my duties, it was not all roses; there were bloodcurdling moments as well. In December 2011, I had to swim about 300m to shore when our 4-man inflatable dinghy unexpectedly sank during a bathymetric survey exercise between the Jubilee Field and the coast of Bonyere. On a different occasion, there was a terrifying lateral collision between our offshore pipeline inspection vessel (Reef Larissa) and a huge oil tanker during a bunkering exercise at about 2 nautical miles offshore. I also recollect a near miss incident that almost landed me in a gaping ‘galamsey’ pit during a crop enumeration exercise along the 75km Esiama-Prestea pipeline right of way. Sometimes, after walking several kilometers across rugged terrains, the parching ache of thirst causes us to turn to fast-flowing streams, coconuts and sugarcanes for relief. The countless reptiles encountered along the gas pipeline right of way (both AT and EP lines) became commonplace. I also recall the day our field vehicle got stuck in a miry clay during one of our routine project inspection tours with Sussana Kwarteng and Francis Wajah; Francis and I ended up washing ourselves in the Amanzule River, after a terrible mud bath. The most recent one was when a large gin trap (locally known as jack) snapped on my ranging pole, just a few inches away from my foot, during a reconnaissance survey at the proposed site for GPP Train 2.

The professional development I've experienced over the years wouldn't have been possible without management’s commitment to ensuring continuous professional development of staff. My thanks go to all those who made a positive impact in my career, especially Dr. Asante, Mr. Asmah and Mr. Moses. My advice, therefore, to my younger colleagues is to take advantage of this opportunity to develop themselves, and always remain eager to contribute their expertise, diligently, to the betterment of Ghana Gas and the country at large. It is my belief that Ghana Gas will continue to drive the industrialization agenda, through further expansion of its gas infrastructure across the country and beyond. May the New Year bring us continued growth, innovation, and a renewed commitment to building a brighter future for Ghana Gas.

January, 2024.

A DECADE IN ETERNITY - In memory of James Kwabla Agboada who went to be with the Lord on 27 March 2013

A decade flies by quickly just as yesterday

But memories of you cannot take a similar flight;

They remain engraved in our hearts,

To be passed on from generations to generation,

To tell of how the LORD in His infinite mercy,

Shapes the lives of men for His glory.

Peaceful, humble and humorous aptly describes you;

A very thoughtful person who loved and cared deeply.

One willing to sacrifice his comfort for others;

And fully content to see them succeed.

A highly intelligent and hardworking man;

A father and mentor to many.

You led by example, not words.

Instilling godly virtues in very unassuming ways.

You would say: No amount of material possessions,

Is ever enough to bring honour to men,

As would wisdom, hard work, integrity and humility.

In this, you taught godliness, contentment, and confidence.

You were ever present in our lives,

You taught us beyond the regular.

You listened to us, allowed us to argue with you,

And would even seek our advice for yourself.

Our playmate and coach went to heaven 10 years ago!

And our living-room table tennis club has hung its bats for a season.

But a decade in eternity is perhaps just a day;

It may well be a thousand.

And what joy it will be to spend eternity,

Beholding Your face, LORD!

‘So teach us to number our days,

That we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.’ Psalm 90:12 (KJV)

-Lovingly remembered by Lucy, Gameli and Delali.

© 27. 03. 2023

THE 10-YEAR OLD HAPPY GAS MOLECULE

In July 2021 (on the 10th Anniversary of Ghana National Gas Company), I was given the opportunity to narrate the history of Ghana Gas and this was how I chose to do it...........................................

Ten years of accelerating Ghana’s effort to rapid industrialisation through the commercialization of natural gas resources did not come without its own story; let’s call it, “Our Gastory”.

Once upon a gas, there lived a good and peaceful old man who had a dream. The dream begat the Gas Task Force, who begat a 9-member Project Implementation Unit, who then begat Ghana Gas. When Ghana Gas had come of age, he got married to a young virgin from the far East called Sinopec in a very colourful EPCC wedding ceremony that was officiated by Chief Yankey and his elders (Asante, Sunu-Attah, Lartey, F. Boateng, K. Boateng, Agboada, Ackonor, Dadzie, Anafi, Bukari, Amegah, McWood and Amoako-Adjei). The wise counsel and endorsement received from the principal elders (Dr. Kwesi Botchwey, Dr. Valerie Sawyerr, Mr. Eric Yankah, Mr. Thomas Manu, Mr. William Tewiah and Mr. Agbesi Dzakpasu) added so much glitter to the ceremony. The couple lived together with great optimism of, one day, producing illustrious sons and daughters who would be christened, Lean Gas, LPG, Condensate, Iso-Pentane and NGLs.

In order to create a happy home for their unborn children, they journeyed to the South-Western corner of the country to consult and ask the good people of Nzema for a piece of ‘earth and water’. They built a home (Gas Processing Plant) with an unrivalled architecture across the nation; it was the first of its kind.  They also equipped their home with beautiful underwater and underground tunnels (Offshore and Onshore gas pipelines) connecting a number of playgrounds (Distribution and Valve Stations) positioned within forested and savanna lands across rugged mountains and fast-flowing rivers all the way to Takoradi. Some family members (young and brilliant Ghanaian professionals), resident both home and abroad, were called upon to lend helping hands to the all-important home-building project. Consequently, Moses, Addo-Yobo, Walden, Djeni, Doh, Kally, Agyena, Nelson, Aboagye, Mangortey, F. Mensah, Okine, Ogbamey, Sosa, Mantey, Duncan, Carson, Acquah-Hagan, Adu, Fiadjoe, Dampson and Biney became household names. The marvelous contributions from these professionals were not without the support of the chief, elders and people (board, management and the entire workforce).

The couple, have since the early days of their marriage, enjoyed support in many forms from their in-laws; Energy Commission, Petroleum Commission, GNPC, Tullow, National Petroleum Authority, District Assemblies, Traditional Authorities, EPA, Water Resource Commission, Ghana Meteorological Agency, Forestry Commission, Ghana Maritime Authority, Ghana Ports and Harbours, Lands Commission, Security Agencies, Utility Agencies and many others. To make the union more enjoyable, Ghana Gas engaged AECOM, a marriage counsellor (PMC), to constantly keep them refreshed with expert knowledge on their love journey.

The many days of demonstrated Teamwork, Professionalism, Excellence, Accountability, Integrity, care for the Environment, Respect for one another and Loyalty to a noble course did not go in vain; Ghana Gas eventually announced the completion of a beautiful home and the birth of sweet hydrocarbon babies to the admiration of all and sundry. The community gathered and there was much feasting. Ghana Gas, together with Sinopec, nurtured the young gases and sent them to places such as VRA, Quantum Terminal, Twyford, Wankang, WAPCo and Prestea Regulating & Metering Station. Many thanks to the strategic support from principal elders, Mr. John Armstrong Yao Klinogo, Mr. Alexander Kofi-Mensah Mould, Ms. Vivienne Gadzekpo and Awulae Amihere Kpanyinli III.

As time went by, Chief Asante took over the baton from Chief Yankey. The new chief’s decree to the household was loud and clear, “Only local hands shall be employed in the kitchen of Ghana Gas as exotic hands were becoming too dear and unsustainable!” (There was total indigenization of Ghana Gas and it brought about benefits untold). As part of the implementation strategy, ‘cookhouse chefs’, ‘kitchen utensil repairers’, ‘sanitary inspectors’, and ‘household decorators’ (Amponsah, Wunakie, Ackon, Donyina-Ameyaw, Yahaya, A. Mensah, Agboada, Mireku, Mensah-Tandoh, Senayah, Saeed, Umar, Awuni, Ewoniah, Ohene-Gyan, Ofori-Atta, Essuah-Mensah, Acquaye, Yeboah, Sagoe, Armah, Gbemu, Alamu, Rockson, Mensah-Edmund, Hayford, Badu, Anani, Ashie, Oppong, Quaicoe, Wudome, Adjei-Fordjour, Anang, Asimenu, Adjei and Agbeblewu) were mandated to ensure that the needful was done by the wonderful team of Ghanaian professionals they were placed in charge of.

Gas continued to voyage far and wide; Karpowership, Tarkwa, Damang, Dawusaso were some of the strategic destinations. In all these, both the old and new sub-chiefs, Lartey, Asmah, Essel, A-L. Mensah, Baidoo, Jomo, Nylander, Archer, Bonsu, Nanevie, Osei, Donkor, Appawu and A. Mensah did not relent on their continuous support for the great vision. As a result, essential executive management decisions leading to the expansion of gas infrastructure towards Kumasi, Tema (Onshore), Ivory Coast, Jintao and Marcopolo received approval from Chief Asante and his principal elders (Mad. Christine Churcher, Awulae Amihere Kpanyinli III, Mr. Andrew Kofi Egyapa Mercer, Mr. Stephen Sumani Nayina, Mr. Abraham Ossei-Aidooh, Togbi Joachim Acolatse V, Nana Owusu Ansah Ababio and Mad. Delphine Dogbegah) and are feverishly ongoing, under the management and supervision of the ever-committed Ghana Gas Team. Other relevant projects such as the Gas Complex, Trauma Center, Anokyi Mainline Compressor Station, Axim LPG Bottling Plant, GPP Train 2, Ghana Gas Beach Resort and Ghana Gas Village cannot be left unmentioned. It is also worth noting that, knowledge about Gas and its importance to the Ghanaian economy has increased over the years; many thanks to the myriad forms of continuous stakeholder sensitization programmes and the introduction of the Gas Challenge quiz competition among tertiary Institutions in Ghana.

The numerous benefits that came with the 10-year existence of Ghana Gas, in terms of Corporate Social Responsibilities, are praiseworthy; Road Projects within the Jomoro, Ellembelle and Nzema East municipalities, 1R1M projects which has covered all 16 regions of the country, building of schools and teachers quarters, Renovation of Marine Police residential quarters and School dormitories, Scholarship Schemes, Capacity-building programmes and Financial donations at various levels of society.

The journey has not been an easy one but, with all hands on deck and staying true to our Shared Values, it can only get better. Happy 10-year anniversary to all the gallant men and women who have nurtured a good dream and have kept the fire burning all these years! Ayekoo!!!

 

Narrated by:

Gameli Kormla Agboada

(A Pioneer)

WHO HAS THE ‘PRAYERTOMETER’?

 

“That was a very powerful prayer!”, Apostle Rev. Dr. ABC exclaimed after a 20-minute-long opening prayer. As ‘Prayer-Papa’ XYZ displayed a well-calculated ‘spiritual’ gait towards his seat, the congregation exploded with a resounding round of applause. Two aspiring Prayer-Papas met him across the aisle with warm handshakes with the belief of tapping into his anointing. I noticed a subtle exhibition of swollen-headedness and spiritual superiority complex. My perplexed-self was undecided on whether to join in the applause or not; I was simply not sure whether the applause was meant for God or for the Prayer-Papa. But I cannot forget the disapproving looks I received from the ushers for my failure to clap.

Following a brief hiatus, there was a call to mass-prayer. Some aspiring Prayer-Papas saw an opportunity to dethrone Prayer-Papa XYZ by out-shouting him during the prayer session; “after all, what!? Has he not ruled the prayer department for too long? –  Mtchweew! Mugabe of Prayer”, they said in their hearts. Some graduates also saw a chance to unleashed ‘heavy’ grammatical expressions on unsuspecting congregants. I, as well, saw it as a great window to disabuse the minds of those judgmental ushers.

As the prayer topics were raised one after the other, I realised I could not keep up with the typically loud and unnecessarily long prayers, riddled with repetitive phrases; so in a low tone, I would do mine in about a minute or two and would wait patiently for a new prayer topic. Once a while, a Prayer-Papa from nowhere would draw closer to urge me on to pray louder, “My brother! pray! - pray! - pray! – pray! - pray! pray! - pray! I cannot hear your voice! Your prayer cannot even kill a mosquito”. I was genuinely flabbergasted as I knew my aim was not to kill a mosquito; all I wanted to do was to communicate with my heavenly father, worship & praise Him, ask for forgiveness of my sins and seek His continuous blessing and protection over my life. That’s all! In fact, there was absolutely no tolerance for the weak and the voiceless. The only time I noticed a bit of tolerance for the ‘weaker brethren’ was when the prayer topic on confession of sins was raised. Hmm, at that moment, whisper reigned supreme!

After the last prayer topic was dealt with, the Pastor said he felt within his spirit that the prayer session was not powerful enough and therefore instructed the Papas to raise more prayer topics. Despite the obvious disappointment on my face, I could not protest lest I get labelled as man of little faith. I then decided to seize the opportunity to put all my critics to ‘shame’. I prayed for Kumasi Asante Kotoko, ASEC Mimosas, Al Ahly, Zamalek, Accra Hearts of Oak, Berekum Chelsea, Karela United FC, Abusua Dwarfs, Kpando Heart of Lions, Sekondi Eleven Wise, Arsenal and FC Barcelona. My prayers became longer and louder. When most of the Papas were rounding up on the new prayer topic, I was transitioning from Berekum Chelsea to Karela United FC. I immediately found favour in the eyes of both the young and the old.  The Prayer-Papa who used to bother me earlier became very pleased; a proud mentor for that matter. I believe If I had continued in my newly adopted style, I could have become the ‘Papamost-Papa’ in no time.

Now, amidst the euphoria and sanctimony, the question that kept ringing in my mind is, who has the ‘Prayertometer’? (A ‘Prayertometer’, I presume, would be a sacred equipment used for measuring the power exuded by one’s prayer). I struggle to comprehend how people are able to determine whether a prayer is powerful or not. Is it measured by how forcefully the person spoke or how verbose and fluent he was among the brethren?

Thankfully, the Bible has taught us that prayer may be made in various ways (including loud cries and silent meditations) and the Father will listen.  An outward display of zeal, though may do some good, may not necessarily be accompanied with knowledge and understanding or be indicative of a person's spiritual standing with God. 

I pray for God’s abundant wisdom and understanding for all of us in order NOT to unintentionally push others onto the path of hypocrisy. In the name of Jesus, I pray with thanksgiving. Amen.

 

For further study:

Lk 18:9-14, Heb. 5:7, 1 Sam 1:9-18, Matt 6:5-13, Prov. 19:2a, 2 Tim 3:1-5

 

Gameli K. Agboada

24^th April 2021

Image Source:

https://www.google.com/search?q=prayer&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwiv2-SU_YD5AhVOyRoKHd_2AC4Q2-cCegQIABAA&oq=prayer&gs_lcp=CgNpbWcQA1AAWABgAGgAcAB4AIABAIgBAJIBAJgBAKoBC2d3cy13aXotaW1n&sclient=img&ei=7I3UYq-1K86Sa9_tg_AC&bih=880&biw=1920&rlz=1C1GCEU_enGH1007GH1007#imgrc=UJ7RodXmtGLhuM

THE CHRONICLES OF CEMETERY L.A. JSS – RECLAIMING WHAT THE FORE-BEARS LOST TO THE COLONIAL MASTERS

Lead Author: Gameli Agboada

Guest Authors: Efo Kofi Gavor & Kwasi Adu

Chief Editor: Stephen Baidu

 

Who said Internet Fraud (sakawa) came all of sudden?!!

Look!! Let me tell you something! A miniature of ‘sakawa’ prevailed as far back as AD 1996 in the Cemetery; the only disparity was the medium of correspondence and also, the absence of black magic (juju) in the dealings. Unlike ‘sakawa’, which is considered a social menace, the kind that happened in the Cemetery was based purely on the science and act of persuading the Whiteman to reason with you concerning your petty wants. Lest I forget, boys and girls who went to international schools ‘dadabiciously’ referred to it as ‘Pen Pal’.

 

One cannot exhaust this topic to its entirety without giving the due recognition to great men like Shabo, Dzandu Harry, Prempeh Paul, Kpoh Richard etc.

 

Massa!! The act had its own strategies. To be a master of the game, you could not do without the golden rules…………

 

1. Win the sympathy of your pen pal through some concocted miserable stories; your suffering should even surpass that of Oshin (A character in the 80/90s Japanese television drama series). 
2. Always remember to garnish your letters with some new vocabularies; it demonstrates how brilliant but needy you are.
3. Slide in one or two idiomatic expressions for ‘sheygey’ reasons.
4. Let your pen pal know that you are a devout Christian; for that matter, an aspiring pastor.

 

Here comes a typical example of the power-packed letters that were written in the Cemetery…………. 

                                                                                                Cemetery L.A.

                                                                                               P.o. Box X,

                                                                                              Ho, V/R,

                                                                                             Ghana, West Africa,

                                                                                             Africa, World.

                                                                                21^TH Otober 1996

 

 

The Cabala’s

p.o. box, America

 

Dear Whiteman,

           How are you? I hope you are swimming in the pool of mr. and Mrs. good hef. Whiteman, do you know sometin?, my father is ded. my mother is ded. I am an orphanage. My grandmother is very wikiiid. She assassinated a hen on Christmas but she didn’t give me some. I have not eat for 3 days. Please, i want you to send me shingad, hose, football boot and maontin bike. My jinior brother also is wanted BMX bisekel. If you send me this tins, I will tank you forevermon. God bles you in advans.

        I am also a small pastor in my chech. Please send me plenty bibles so that I can share to everybody so that they will become very good boys and girls in the chech and Sunday school too.

      I will like to stop here because my wikiid grandmother is calling me to borrow fire-chako from the nes house to cook even food (super) and she will not give me mpo.

 

Your’s faithfuly,

  dfadsfad

                                                                                                Churchlife K. Gbagbladza

                                                                                                (Senior on duty, Class 6A)

 

The day was bright and most shirts were looking spruce; it was a Monday morning in the Cemetery. Boys and girls were getting impatient with the headmaster. A unanimous sigh of relief filled the assembly ground as he finally brought his long and unappetizing speech to a conclusion.

 

Shortly afterwards, the post boy climbed the stage with his letter box. ‘Charley, tension be what?’ Expectations were above ground level. I could say with much confidence that, those were the only moments in the Cemetery where boys gave their undivided attention to the stage.

 

Even though I was never called to receive any of those mails, I mysteriously developed a talent; a special talent it was. I could accurately tell the content of an envelope by looking at its shape and colour.  

 

• Abakeh Mesiwotso (Shabo) -----------A catalogue from Cabala’s (A marketer and retailer of hunting, fishing and related outdoor recreation merchandize)

 

• Kpoh Richard----------------A magic handkerchief from India. (This guy was gradually creating an aura of fear and panic around himself)

 

• Agamah Marvelous---------Return to Sender (I guess Shabo mischievously furnished him with a fake Fountain Pen address)

 

• Dzandu Harry----------------A catalogue from Victoria’s Secret (I really found it difficult to understand why boys, at an average age of 12, were requesting catalogues from a retailer of women’s wear, lingerie and beauty products.)

 

• Prempeh Paul----------------Another course from the World Bible School (WBS), Accra, Ghana.

 

• Abakeh Mesiwotso -----------A correspondence on matchbox

 

• Abakeh Mesiwotso-----------A correspondence on a bag of rice from Thailand. (In fact, Shabo’s exploits were becoming too frightening to everybody; it kept us wondering whether or not Ghana was at the verge of war or famine)
• Abakeh Mesiwotso-----------Return to sender (He ordered a loaf of bread from Victoria’s Secret)
• Avenyo Eli-------------------Teamwork Bible course

 

• Gavor Ernest-----------------Teamwork Bible course

 

• Akakpo Nicholas------------A never-ending correspondence on a Walkman (I guess that particular Whiteman was a very stingy one).

 

• Kpoh Richard----------------Another round of correspondence on Bruce Lee’s VHS cassettes (Snake in the monkey shadow, Enter the dragon etc)

 

In the midst of these entire pen pal craze, when the ‘Return to Sender’ phenomena became commonplace, a lucrative business sprang up and Kwasi Adu was at the centre of it. He wrote more refined letters for the Address Owners and charged them for the service rendered.

Hmm! Charley, to be an Address Owner came with its own swagger. The Address books were treated with awesome reverence. You could count yourself blessed if you ever chanced upon a genuine one because it was only their look-alikes that were kept in public in order to confuse snoopy boys. Not even the chief scribe (Kwasi Adu), who provided consultancy services, knew where the mails were going afterwards; he writes the body of the letter and the address owners to the ‘most important’ part.

Address Hunting was another thing that cannot be left unmentioned. To become a renowned hunter in those days, one required highly specialized tutelage under Shabo (The Address Baron). In spite of the fact that Eli and Ernest were seasoned hunters (Tohazie and Sundiata) since class 3, the field of Address Hunting was a novelty to them. (If you have never heard of the exploits of Eli and Ernest, please read a piece entitled, “The Rise and Fall of The Pen Syndicate”)

The most annoying aspect of the business was the emergence of the shameless thievery by some postmen at Ghana Post. They took great delight in stealing Bibles, audio cassettes, VHS cassettes and anything that looked bulky. I had no doubt that this appalling behaviour was the core reason why Akakpo’s walkman never came. ‘Jah fire burn them all!’ We always looked upon the sons and daughters of postmen with great suspicion. Who knows? Even the flashy wristwatch he/she was showing off at school may be the fruit of the labour of a fellow pupil. Eiii charley! We went through turbulent times but survived.

Days went by and the Whiteman got wiser. Business was going down and ‘Return to Sender’ became some people’s middle names. Even simple Bible courses that use to take only a month became life-long courses. I guess you now understand why some deviants in the society had to move a step further into ‘sakawa’ in order to keep the business going.

But beware!!! “For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” Mark 8:36

Have a lovely day.

 

April 2010

THE CHRONICLES OF CEMETERY L.A. JSS - THE FREEDOM FIGHT

Lead Author: Gameli Agboada

Guest Author: Efo Kofi Gavor

Chief Editor: Stephen Baidu

 

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;

I come to request for my share of the beans money,

Not to unjustifiably attack any teacher of Cemetery L.A. J.S.S

The beans that men clandestinely sell lives after them,

The dough is oft deeply interred in their polyester pockets

So let it be with S.K.P. and his accomplices

The noble men Kwasi and Gavor hath told you S.K.P. was ambitious

If it were so, it was a grievous fault, 

And grievously hath S.K.P. answered it

 

-          Ark Korkutsey Manthony

Have you ever been asked to bring buckets of cracked stones to school? Look! I am not talking about any form of punishment here; I am only referring to something that was more or less part of the syllabus for some basic schools in those days. I still wonder why our parents were made to pay all those development levies. Was there no child right activist those days? Hmm!! Anyway!! God dey we dey!

In spite of the demeanour of some “adifudi” teachers, who took advantage of the prevailing situations and exploited us on their personal maize and cassava farms, I can still say, with a little pride, that my stones form part of the walls of my primary school.

I remember those events as if it had happened yesterday. I still have my all-in-one foolscap notebook that contained subjects like English Language, Mathematics, General Science, Social Studies, Cultural Studies, Religious and Morals, Music and Dance, Ghanaian Language, Stone Skills, sorry! I mean.…Life Skills and Craft.

Ahaa!!! Talking about Craft, may Jah fire burn all those slightly-rich “babylonic” boys and girls who unnecessarily raised the marking scheme by presenting fowls and young goats as craft; I woke up one day just to realize that, brooms made from palm fronds, door mats made from raffia, cane baskets and the likes were no more fetching big marks. Jah fire burn those corrupt teachers as well!

Hmm!!! I spent sleepless nights cogitating over the extent of ‘baby-corruption’ that had eaten deeply into the mental faculties of even primary pupils. In fact, I need to come out with a book entitled, “Domestic fowls and young goats created in the image and likeness of Craft.”

Now, let me talk about the imperative issue; the very reason why I borrowed your ears.

I never knew I had a hidden farming potential inside me until a new Agric Science teacher was transferred to Cemetery L.A. J.S.S. He is a man who surprisingly and annoyingly loves the practical aspect of Agric Science so much.

 “My name is Mr. ‘Lasah’ S.K.P and you will never know what the S.K.P. stands for”, the new teacher told the class confidently. I guess nobody told him that there were young cryptographers, like Willie Nyonator and Nicky Akakpo in the school. It took only two days for Willie to reveal what the “S” stands for; I think it is either ESKIMO or ESTUARY……S for Eskimo.

SKP was a very fashion-conscious teacher in his heydays. His selection of pair of trousers needed no special designs from the tailor. When SKP tightly secures his oversized trousers with a ‘frog-leather’ belt, the resulting ‘gathers’ around his waistline was a sight to behold; it was a tourist site. When it comes to shoes, he had a fine taste; they were strategically selected to aid his height. If there ever was any shortage of seats in the staff common room those days, SKP would have being the least bordered……. I will not continue since my attention has just been drawn to the fact that SKP’s clothing is patented.

During one of SKP’s lessons, he started with ‘Farm Animals’, then he shared a brief joke with the class, and then quickly changed the topic to ‘Leguminous plants’, and then to, ’how to cultivate beans’; he did all these in a 45-minute lesson. That was when I started suspecting that SKP had an ulterior motive.

Few days after that confusing lesson, SKP announced to the three form 2 classes that he had acquired a piece of farmland which is located somewhere around the cemetery. The news brought gladness to the hearts of boys and men alike. Please do not be surprised when I say ‘boys and men alike’; after all, who didn’t know that some of those form 2B boys were using ‘football-age’ in the school’s register? And who says I can’t recognize a disguised old age when I see one? Their true ages were very evident in the frightening sound of their snores during boring hot afternoon lessons. I always thanked God for the lives of the few genuine young boys who were able to coexist with these other ‘young boys’.

On our first site visit, there was a mini-civil war over the farmland. No sooner had we entered the land than an old woman, who appeared from nowhere, started pointing accusing fingers at SKP for stealing her land. To the surprise of the crowd, SKP started sweating generously, blinking his eyes faster than normal and concurrently swallowing saliva unnecessarily. Thanks to Gley, Mortey, Dzanku, Anani, Dzamefe and some other boys who, in spite of making mockery of SKP initially, took charge and succeeded in doing damage control. Hurray!! The battle is lost and won!

We became much more surprised at SKP’s behaviour after the old woman was gone. He blamed the boys for not allowing him to squarely face the woman. He then boastfully narrated how the land was single-handedly acquired through his blood and toil. Honestly….., I wished the woman had returned that very moment.

After about an hour of feverish weeding, Mortey decided to replenish his lost energy with some ripe ‘akukor’ (yellow mombin/hog plum). In the process of climbing the tree, he gave in to the force of gravity and embraced the rocky ground (hlihakpe) beneath him in a painful hug. Whiles he was busily attending to his contusions, amidst the annoying “awwwn”, “awwwn” sound from the girls, SKP angrily rushed toward the scene with the sole aim of punishing him for disobedience. When SKP was about to strike him with a cane, his arm shockingly froze midway. Ah? What happened? The crowd was curious. The feeling of pain from the fall, and the seemingly ungratefulness and betrayal from SKP caused Mortey to pass a derogatory comment which struck and demoralized SKP. Oh dear! What a bad day it was for the honourable SKP?

After some weeks of hard work and ‘child labour’, we were beautifully rewarded with a bumper harvest. Even though it was a blissful moment when Esther Asuah and Ethel Gakpe were asked to display a sample of the harvested beans at one morning assembly, I was not very comfortable with the gleeful looks on the faces of some teachers.

Now the big question that was running through everybody’s mind; “What are we going to do with the bountiful harvest?”

Men like Borbor Kruzo wished the harvest was shared among the students according to beans-eating capabilities…Na lie!!!…God is not a slack concerning His promises.

Men like Victor Biaku wished it was shared according to neatness…Torfiakwa!!!....No weapon fashioned against the “small poles”, “stay”, “alikoto” “I and you” and “four corners” boys shall prosper. Amen!

Some of the smart girls wished it was shared according to fluency in the queen’s language. Kai!!! This is beans we are talking about oo!.....What then becomes of the vernacular-infested ‘Kpako’ boys like us? The Lord is our shield and fortress!

The teachers unanimously decided to sell the beans and save the money in the school’s coffin….Sorry! I mean, coffers. Few days later, it was announced that the amount of money realized from the beans was ¢11,500.00. Whaaat?!! Boys exclaimed in their minds. According to expect market analysis made by Bernice and Beatrice (the Kporvuvu twins), that quantum of beans should have cost at least ¢35,000.00 in the Ho central market (Asigame); and a rather ambitious guesstimate of ¢70,000.00 was also quoted by one firewood dealer from kodzobi, who was on a business tour around the school. “Hmm!! But how? Only ¢11,500.00 for our hard labour? No! We have been swindled!” I could have sworn on my grandfather’s ‘green-khaki’ trousers that we had been bitterly swindled. I took a closer look at the scars of old blisters in my palms and wept within my heart. Ah ah ah ah!!! We should have taken a second look at Borbor Kruzo’s suggestion. Some of the boys were even lashed severely for openly challenging the price of the beans. Hmm! Ok! No problem!….”every dog has its day”.

Ok just pause and listen to my little confession: I, Efo Gameli, my own father’s son, was an accomplished economist in my own right in those days. I therefore converted the beans money, which I need not be told by any ‘aladura’ pastor was shared among some of the teachers, into a loan and debited their accounts. The imaginary loan plus the accumulated interest was exactly equal to the next term’s extra class fee. So, it wasn’t like I didn’t pay the fees oo, I just...eermmm, ok let’s say I balanced things up here and there. But even if you feel like accusing me of anything, you better hold your peace. After all, the idea was not mine; I was pressurized by Efo Eli and Efo Gavor. End of confession!

Now let me continue…………..

During the next term, SKP treated a topic on, ‘Vegetables’.  And just before he brought the topic to an end, he suggested another practical exercise; pepper and tomato farming. The class, to his utmost amazement, welcomed the news with a resounding round of applause. SKP could not hide his joy. He even made unrealistic promises concerning future harvests; he thought we were too naïve to fall into his ploy again.

Even though some of the outspoken boys openly doubted the success of the project, SKP was unperturbed. That very afternoon, he went to buy bamboo sticks, pepper and tomato seedlings. He coerced us to prepare beds, water them, plant the seedlings and also fence around the whole garden. Whiles Eloh, Pi-Bansah and co were in charge of fencing, Kwasi Adu and Nicky Akakpo were controlling the manure (cow dung) department.

We came to school the next day to encounter the expected and unexpected. The bamboo fence was broken into and all the seedlings were uprooted but the beds were untouched.  Upon hearing the news, SKP broke down into uncontrollable tears and cursed bitterly all day long. I felt pity for Miss. Mahama (the female Agric. teacher), who had to spend most part of the day enduring SKP’s sobbing and gnashing of teeth. Whiles SKP was lamenting over his loss, boys were secretly celebrating the disaster with ‘poki’, ‘aliha’ and ‘ewunabiledorme’ actively supplemented with ‘atsifufui’, ‘bofloat’, ‘atsormor’ and ‘polo’.

After three days of excessive mourning, some of the girls went to the staff common room to console SKP. He was even made to believe that it was Spiderman and Sankopee who were jointly responsible for the destruction but only God knows the hand that delivered us from another unrewarding venture.

FREEDOM at last!!!

“For the wages of ‘small GREED’ is……………………………”

Have a lovely day.

June, 2010

THE CHRONICLES OF CEMETERY L.A. JSS - A LOCAL GOAT WITH A FOREIGN TONGUE

Lead Author: Gameli Agboada

Guest Author: Efo Kofi Gavor

Chief Editor: Stephen Baidu

Chickens die many times before their deaths; 
The obdurate goat never tastes of death but once. 
Of all the Tongues that I yet have heard, 
It seems to me most strange that men should fear; 
Seeing that French, a foreign but an examinable tongue, 
Will come when it will come.

- Capt. Rtd. Pierre Atokui-Caesar

 

By the saving grace of God, not forgetting the little ‘mass-giraffing’, we were all promoted to class 4; two years away from becoming seniors. You dare not scorn us for not being able to express ourselves well in the queen’s language at the time; we will not take it lightly with you at all. After all, even a great percentage of our seniors could only boast of few phrases:

1. Hey, come here! Pick the rubbish!    
2. I ‘say’ pick the rubbish ‘la’!              
3. I will report you to ‘chicha’.              
4.  ‘Look at his face like a goat’

 

As for some of the teachers, the least said about them, the better:

1. Akporsue and co, where are you ‘gogring?
2. Hey! One, two, three, four, both of you, come here!
3. You this boy, why are you wearing bare-chested?
4. The boy in the blue shirted, where is your cutlass?
5. Do you think me and my wife, we are small boys? Huh?

 

If any of you meet the man who invented the dreaded snail-shell-necklace (Aborborgo chain), please shake his hand for me. For the sake of those who have intentionally or unintentionally defiled themselves with the seed of ‘dadabism’, let me describe the snail-shell-necklace: It is a complicated ugly-looking circularly arranged old and stinky snail shells along a shred of black, red or gray calico. It is only worn by pupils who are caught speaking vernacular. If you happen to be the carrier of this yoke, you can only transfer it onto another person if and only if you catch him or her red-handed speaking vernacular. In short, it was a deterrent measure that was employed by the school authority in order to promote the speaking of English.

 

It was a herculean task for the school authority, trying to ensure that boys and girls in the cemetery communicated only in the foreign tongue. This was what informed the decision to appoint prefects and compound overseers to oversee the tongues of boys. But Charley, boys be haaard!

 “Unless the Lord watches the cemetery, the compound overseer laboureth in vain”

Some boys could even decide to remain silent the whole day because of limited or unavailability of ‘lyrics’. You may even be tempted to believe that some of them were born deaf and dumb.

 

Now, a new term began and a new subject was unveiled. Shiee! From frying pan to fire! It was already rumoured that this subject has two names; French and Français.

It was also rumoured that, in this new tongue, even a common table could either be a man or a woman; if the table is made of ‘odum’ or mahogany, it is masculine but with wawa or plywood, it is feminine.

“Kai! Today be today! Everything na double double”

 

From that day onwards, boys started giving their lives to Christ because this new tongue is rough and tough. It cannot be blamed. It cannot be tamed. It cannot be maimed.

“Father look upon thy children with thine loving kindness.”

 

French became a necessary evil in our lives from class 4 to JSS 3. Sadly enough, I have forgotten most of my French phrases but I have a little reserved for great and special occasions like crossing the border:

• Nous Avon (pronounced, NuZaVor) – meaning, do you have Zavor?
• Comment ça va? – meaning, bring forth the cassava.
• Bonjour – meaning, were you born in June?
• Pourquoi? (pronounced, PurKwa) – meaning, I hail from Pokuase.

 

For those of you who do not know what ‘zavor’ is, it is a heavy and smelly sleeping-cloth which, for fear of drowning, has not seen the face of water in ages. Please note that, zavors are normally not heavy from the manufacturer but they gradually put on weight due to stressful night duties.

 

Lest I forget, let me take this opportunity to salute all the cemetery French teachers who forced the subject down our small throats.

Madame Addo – Maximum respect to you

Monsieur Zigah – I genuflect before you

Madame Kakotsey – I doff my hat to you

 

I know very well if I should tell you that Ernest Gavor and I were the best French students in the cemetery, you will not believe me. But I don’t mind - ‘jealousy go shame!’

Look! Apart from Kpadey Fafa, Akakpo Nicholas, Gemegah Sampson and a few others, who sometimes beat us with only half a mark, we were the underground French scholars.

 

I remember the day Monsieur Zigah called Shabo and Akplor to stand up and converse in French. The sentence given to Shabo was, “Tu as quel âge?” Shabo stood up confidently, turned to Akplor and said, “Akplor! Tu alalash!!!?” In fact! The thickness of the French intoxicated Akplor to the extent that, all he could say was “au revoir”.

 

Along the line, I started losing interest in the subject simply because I thought the teachers were teaching the language far beyond our comprehension. And you dare not complain openly too, otherwise, in the next minute or two, you may see yourself lying face down on the headmaster’s table, with four strong boys holding your limbs; the fear of the Lord will then be introduced into your butt.

After six long years of suffering in the cruel hands this foreign tongue, BECE came knocking……….

Hmm! And this was also the time all the teachers, except the headmaster, assistant headmaster and the Ewe madam, were transferred to other schools; there was no French teacher to take us through any revision. So boys started hunting seriously for ‘Apor’; delegations were sent to all neighbouring dadabie schools to see if they had any idea of how this foreign tongue looked like. ‘mtcheeeuw’, Massa! ‘Nothing Better’; they came back empty-handed.

Jah fire burn all those dadabie boys and girls who kept the ‘apor’ very close to their small chests!!! ‘Ah! Wetin?!!! I bore sef! Small apor wey we all for feel some, dem dey hide am like ibi some Ghana Commercial Bank ATM PIN’

‘Massa! Desperation be what?! At that very moment, even if Sankopee had offered to organize French classes for us, boys would have attended in all humility.

Kai! The paper was tough! The invigilator was strict! The atmosphere was tense!

“Whiles I looketh around, with caution, to behold from whence cometh my help, neighbours nigh me even sweateth more profusely.”

Charley, even the French ‘sharks’ no dey see top. Within 30 minutes, I have finished chewing three pen covers; I rendered my two BiC pens naked and denuded my last Kofa pen.

“Indeed, the devil finds work for the idle teeth”

Looking at the hopeless situation around me, the only thing I could think of was the quick arrival of the final bell; after all, GTV was telecasting ‘Journey to the West’ around that time. But Charley, I can’t afford to get 9 in French; old boy go roast me alive, mommy go deny me food for at least one moon. Eii!…e go hard ooo! So what I for do raidee?

It was then that I really understood the saying…….. “If you become too desperate, even the vulture will sweet-talk you and sell afro hair-pomade to you”. One self-acclaimed French don, seeing how desperate I was, officiously tilted his answer sheet towards me. ‘Chuiaaaa!!!’ Even though I didn’t understand the essay topic, what I saw on the answer sheet looked more Greek to me than French.

As I cogitated over the situation for a while, the only thing that came to my mind was a one of our cemetery morale booster jama songs; “Atsolitsooo! The boys are coming, Atsolitsoo, Heyhey heyhey Atsolitsoo, Heeeey! Atsolitsooo…… …” With a little boosted morale, I started putting something on the paper:

“Je m’akple Gameli Agboada.

Je suis 14 years old.

I am un petit garçon.

Je çome from le Anloga.

Moi food la favori est Akple versus Aborbitadi.

Moi subject la favori est French.

J’aime le football brutál (meaning, I dey love football brutal!).

Ça va très bien merci bokuu ………………..”

 

 

Please don’t laugh at my essay; it was what saved me from grade 9. Hmm! I came out of the exam hall wishing I had taken the subject more seriously.

Friends, always remember that, you will someday be held accountable for every little decision you make today. "Trust in the Lord and lean not on your own understanding. In all of your ways, acknowledge him and He will make your path straight." (Prov. 3:5-6)

Caveat: In case you come across any grammatical blunder in this note, be ye not dismayed, for I am still a local goat with a foreign tongue.

 

Have a lovely day. No no no sorry, I mean……Avoir une belle journée.

10^th September 2011

 

Image Source: 

https://www.google.com/searchq=french+is+difficult&rlz=1C1GCEU_enGH1007GH1007&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjx77qzoID5AhVENRoKHfapAWoQ_AUoAXoECAEQAw&biw=1920&bih=880&dpr=1#imgrc=SbbqKkgFLEPG2M Date Accessed: 17/07/22