On People's Migration

My maternal granny of very blessed memory gave me an injunction that I took dearly to heart, and which continues to guide me today. Never stay in a place where there are no strangers, my grandmother told me.

Looking back some forty-something years later, her words continue to make eminent sense. A reason must be responsible for a community not to have a single stranger in its midst. And indeed one must be a crazy banana to want to stay in such a place.

Two proverbs best encapsulate my Yoruba people's attitudes towards human migration. One is: Omi ni eniyan. The second is Ibi ti aye ba gbeni de, la npe layede.

The first means that human beings are like water, which flows wherever it can find its level. The second one means that it is where destiny leads one that we call home. I shall have more to say about the latter proverb later.


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Siren for Envoys?

When early on Sunday the 4^th of February 2007, I saw two police motor outriders blaring their siren and clearing traffic on the Kasoa-Winneba road, I thought it was one of our new local potentates abusing the already much-abused system of unnecessary siren-blaring.

I was seriously surprised when I saw that it was a black stretch limousine with an American flag fluttering on the bonnet, presumably transporting the US ambassador. I am surprised because I’ve never seen anyone apart from Head of state/government being accorded this privilege anywhere in the world. Some questions readily pop into mind:

i. Does the Ghanaian ambassador in the US enjoy reciprocal privilege of blaring siren on American streets as does the US envoy here? If not, why not?

ii. Do other envoys posted in this country enjoy this privilege, or is it reserved only for the US envoy? If so, why so?

iii. Has Ghana become a vassal state of the US?

To our local potentates for whom the blaring of siren is considered part of the appurtenances of their office, I urge them to remember that power is very transient. They soon will come down from their high horses and join the rest of us mere mortals as we get stuck in our traffic jams, while choking from the noxious fumes from the dilapidated trotros that’s our only mode of transport.