A National Resolution: That we may respect our Insanity.

This article has not given itself to me easily, it has been hard to find ‘time’ to write it although I completely agreed on how important it was to write it. So let us cut straight to the chase, Tetteh Quashie overhead. As though the name Tetteh Quashie is not synonymous to some glory in Ghana, there is chaos breeding under his memorial just around the Accra Mall.

A homeless man lives right under the bridge. It will appear, without professing to be the best judge of mental sanity (as I have a mirror), that, the man is Non Compos Mentis; incapable of a coherent life. This article was inspired when I saw him eating one evening on my way from work. He was just putting food in his mouth, and I was the driver right in front of him, in the queue on the Spanner-Shiashe side of the traffic, as the traffic is almost every evening.

I reasoned, all we all want is perhaps, a good meal at the end of the day, some warmth and then of course a good sleep. Again, it appears he cooks under the bridge and feast there, alone, in the cold. I have seen him a number of times after that day, but almost always feeling helpless and asking what can I do to help this man. Well as a writer, I write about him. 

I am not oblivious of the many who live on the street; children, mentally derailed, physically disabled persons as well as fully abled persons who have been driven to the street by poverty. Some I most certainly can guess, live not very different from this my friend under the bridge, let us call him John Doe for the purposes of this article.

I imagine how John sleeps at night. John perhaps dreams of a completely beautiful Ghana, where the troubled like himself can dream of a home where they can hope to be fully integrated into a regular life. Before John sleeps, he may pray and ask God to protect him so no one runs into his ‘shelter’ by accident. He may even say the Lord’s prayer and cry, “Let your kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.”

I do not know what John wakes up to, let’s assume John goes about begging for coins, that at the end of the day, he may have a warm meal and a restful sleep. John sleeps under the relics of a glorious cocoa legacy; a busy road full of fantastic cars and people. And yes talking about amazing people, Christians and Religious alike. Never forget VISION2020 is the year of National Cathedrals. So let’s start from the place of faith as I talk about my friend, John - The Good Samaritan Experiment. 

In the early 1970s, on the campus of Princeton University, two behavioral scientists, John Darley and Daniel Batson, were interested in studying the psychology of prosocial behavior. They asked the question; why do people do good things for others? To examine this question, they decided to study students at the Princeton Theological Seminary: students who were studying to be priests.

The researchers set up an epic study. Across three days in late Fall, they had a bunch of seminary students come to a building, meet with a researcher, and fill out a bunch of surveys. The surveys partly addressed if the students were religious primarily for intrinsic or for extrinsic reasons (with “intrinsic reasons” being like “I am motivated to do good in the world” and “extrinsic reasons” being like “I really want to get into Heaven.”). Then the participants were told that they needed to prepare a brief talk about the Good Samaritan from the Bible—which is a story about how a helpless victim on the side of the road was just passed by from a bunch of holy individuals—while a non-holy Samaritan took the time to stop and help the fellow out. 

Participants of the research were all told that they needed to walk to a nearby building to meet up with another member of the team and then to give their sermon. Then comes the fun part. The situation was rigged—and all participants found a fallen ‘stranger’ in a narrow alleyway. The “stranger” was really a key part of the research—and his role was to seem sick on the ground and in need of help. The catch was that the alleyway was only four feet across … so to not help this guy, you had to step over him! I will tell you the results to conclude but let me lay down my hopes and aspiration for our nation and the continent as vision 2020 appears to have expired.

1. That we shall define for ourselves an identity which is enduring, progressive and one of leadership.
2. That we will treasure curiosity and learning above all things and remember for lack of knowledge my people indeed do perish.
3. That we will appreciate the value of human life and respect each other genuinely.
4. That we will not seek to bring each other down as our proverbial ‘PHD’ but seek to create a society that uplifts each other, firmly holding each other with chants of Ubuntu.
5. That our cultural default will be kindness and beneficence, truly treasuring little acts of kindness.
6. That we will protect the vulnerable, weak, defenseless as that is the highest form of worship

007.  That we will understand religiosity does not guarantee a productive or progressive society but such things as law, social awareness, wisdom and a commitment to do our job as though we do it unto the Lord.

8. That we will believe in ourselves, dream of a beautiful world we can create out of diligence, vision and a clear strategy, seeking to be the difference daily and yes singing Uhuru.

9.    That we may prosper and be in good health as our soul prospers

10. That we may think and do only that which is noble, right, pure, lovely, excellent and praiseworthy.

So back to the Princeton Theological Seminary, the conclusion of the study showed that, dispositional factors had no bearing on helping behavior. In other words, people who reported as religious for intrinsic reasons were no more likely than others were to stop to help. This study has such dramatic implications for what it means to be human. First off, the overall amount of “helping” was low - with MOST (60% of) participants being, actually, NOT willing to help the “victim.” This is, of course, ironic, because the participants were, Princeton students studying to be priests and about to give a talk on the lessons of the Good Samaritan from the Bible!

As it turns out, simple-seeming situational factors such as, whether one was in a hurry or not, played the dominant role in determining what that person would do in the research. The bottom line remains, no society can count on the good heart of citizen to fulfill John’s prayer to God. If God’s kingdom may come on earth and VISION2020 will not be concert-party, then we have to remember and hold on fast to 007.

So what I ask is not for some generosity for John but to simply ask someone to wake up (for all the unchristian French, I can’t write in this article) and do their job. It takes the created institutions of state to fulfill prayers and dreams, people paid every month to intervene and implement social goods, so before someone reaches to be kind to John, which we should by all means, someone should tell the head of whoever is responsible for the Ghana National Social Protection Policy to act to stop this dysfunction.

As I conclude, I dare ask yet again; who is the head of the social welfare structure and I hope he/she does not use that stretch of Accra and yes, there is a law in Ghana about the rights of children and mental health people. So during Christmas, let these families of the people paid to their jobs enjoy the Fanta and Chicken, let us all eat Jollof and be busy about a year of return as John feasts on crumbs under a bridge lonely and completely forgotten; let us all enjoy the warmth of Christmas and by all means let not remember John, for after all, he is but a poor John Doe.

Humourantology

I am used to ranting on my birthdays , so let me give today a shot . I hope my aim at humourantology (wordsmith, I dey town) works...Lol. I am honestly beginning to feel like a dinosaur... aka. Batman 🦇and the more the ticking minutes merge into the years, the more I realize the value of moments. 

I have written and shared many lesson on my other birthdays, lessons you can find on my blog; www.theagleswingfoundation.blogspot.com, lessons I wish you will check out. 🏾

Today is about waterproof, yes waterproof. Before my kind gets book long, let us pray God rest his soul🤧. He blessed us with so much comedy that he was once my hero. And may the young for sure grow (sorry if you're not Ghanaian too).

Take me back to class 4, just about 8 years old.🤴🏾 Fridays were for spelling bee, well not my favourite if you have followed my writing for awhile . Our class teacher had given us a list of words to learn how to spell, but as for me and spellings, we have not always agreed on very simpel** things. Everybody had to spell a word and in my tiny little mind, humour was going to be my word irrespective of whatever Mr. Agyei asked. 🏾

So I went for spellings with rolled brooms as spectacles 🧐, I guess for as many as wonder when I started wearing spectacles there you have it . Right in my pocket, tacked in, ready to rock and roll🥰🏾. 

My heart throbbing , moving towards the back of the queue as much I could but my time sure did come 🤦🏾‍♂. 

I don’t remember the word I was asked to spell chale, all I remember was Jesus saying I am finished on the cross. So I pulled my handmaid broom spectacle, wore it, and gave the word a good massacre.... Don't judge me. Everybody laughed, not because they heard what I spelt, but because of what I wore. But it surely did end in tears … it appears Mr. Agyei had zero limits for wits, and my tears made the day more humourous.

 I then became, like the man who inspired me to humour, water proof. 

I look back to that moment and I realize how much power there is in fostering calm and even fun in difficult moments. Life is hard mehn , and let no one who has not seen, held or felt hardness be the first to throw a stone🥶 (to the pure all things are pure, Amen…🤪). 

In those hard moments, a little play, a little smile, a little kindness (bibia kakra kakra🤡) makes the suck worth gulpings.🏾

Today is not for long rants, just a quickie to say, be resilient, even water proof, not wearing your sensitivities on your sleeves and enjoy some wits. Always remember, no one gets out of life alive, so wink  and have some fun. Don't give too much f*ck.... sorry spelling mistake 🏾‍♂🏾‍♂🏾‍♂🏾‍♂

My name is Yaw Sompa and Gh dey biiii k3k3.

Assumptions, Heuristics and Cognitive Biases

I recently wore a size 17 shirt for a really important event. On a good day when I feel very fat, I wear a 15 and half, slim fit, so size 17 sure was a parachute. The event was once in a lifetime event but I had only gotten myself in such a mess because I assumed. I had assumed that, the shirt will fit because all the other accessories accompanying the formal dress code fitted. I had ordered for the whole set and so if one was okay, it was safe to assume the others were okay too, right? Well wrong, and on this occasion, very wrong.

I bear my soul often in my writings, I tell stories about myself, I share through the hurts, the painful childhood, fond memories and hope that, at least one person may find inspiration and courage to face each day at a time. As I tried to look for experiences to share, I was reminded of a recent experience. Not a childhood memory, actually it is as recent as less than a month but one that confirms one lessons I learnt from the Boys Brigade, one of my childhood experiences that, transformed me.

Growing up, there was a woman in our village, Maame Nyameama, who most of my classmates were terribly scared off, of course including me. She was the dreadful symbol of all that was fearful but we had to pass in front of her house, through her gardens to the hospital quarters where I lived. The assumption however was, only the bad boys who stole from her should be afraid and since I was a ‘good’ boy who only passed in front of her house to my house, there was nothing to be scared of. And yet indeed, even as a child and in all my innocence, assumptions did not make it truth.  I was very wrong as she caught me and my friend one day, gave us brooms to sweep her whole compound and it only took someone going to report to my mother to save us from crying and the terror of Maame Nyameama. Assumptions even in innocence had led me to an experience that haunted me for days.

But today is definitely not about Nyameama, today is about her only tenant, Lawyer, as we called him. He was a man who owned a lotto kiosk around our school, always drunk and professed to know everything. We used to ask him questions as we played with him. I grew up remembering we called him Ndeporinga (or something really close, but I am sure I have massacred his name). We all called him Lawyer Cupa.  He had a great sense of humour and unlike Maame Nyameama, he was the joy of most of my class mates and I.

I made a reference of him in an article recently and humorous as the reactions were, some people assumed I meant someone else. Some people I greatly respect and even may have considered friends had concluded on an assumption and said things they would not have ordinarily said (I assume yet again, perhaps, those are things they always wanted to say). Their comments did reveal a lot, I like research and I was right in the middle on one. As I enjoyed the emotional outpourings, I kept on asking myself, why does it appear that humans can be completely wrong and yet truly sold to those falsehoods in strength and commitment? To be completely honest, I cannot say, I did not anticipate those assumption, but in that anticipation of error is my central lesson, why do we assume too much? Why do we present as facts that which is at best opinions bereft of evidence?

In chapter five of my new book, ‘Be the Difference; A leadership Roadmap for the New African’, I discussed challenges I think are cultural hindrances to an effective culture of leadership. The third challenge out of the ten I could find is exactly the discussion of heuristics and biases. A heuristic is a mental shortcut that allows people to solve problems and make judgments quickly. These rule-of-thumb strategies shorten decision-making time and allow us to function without constantly stopping to think about the next course of action. While heuristics can speed up our problem solving and the decision-making process, they can introduce errors called the cognitive bias. Relying on an existing heuristic can make it difficult to see alternatives, introducing false confidence, prejudice and stereotyping.

I have learnt the hard way that, for even constants like facts are supposed to be, one can be trapped by anchoring facts in perspectives. For example, when the question of what is the tallest mountain on earth is asked, the most likely answer you will hear is Everest. But is Mountain Everest indeed the tallest mountain on earth? This question reveals a lot about perspectives rather than absolutes of facts. The correct answer to the highest mountain on earth will be, it depends on how you define ‘highest mountain’. Geology.com[1] explains the answer to the question of highest mountain could be Everest, Mauna Kae or Chimborazo.

I joined the Boys Brigade before my 6^th birthday, a group that taught me a lot of discipline. One thing we were taught to pray was, ‘…that every member past and present, may prove steadfast in his fight…’. The chant was always, ‘Will your anchor hold, in the storms of life?’.  We always sought to find and to hold unto truths, unwavering in the search and never concluding on the façade. We usually played a game in our drills, the commander will keep on saying “Left, Right, About, Right, left ...” and always left the ‘turn’ to catch as many as were not paying attention. We kept eliminating until somebody won. The lesson was clear; until you hear turn, no command had been given. It was a game I learnt to win often, only because I was constantly reminding myself not to assume!

Let me conclude with yet another story, all with the view of sharing the simple yet important lesson, ‘Do not present as fact to anyone that which is at best opinions’. Akosua, my friend, put on her status recently, “Nipple piercing hurt (with a crying emoji) but SOOO worth it.” I responded and said, ‘Huh (with a laughter emoji and an outstretched hands)’. She then sent me a list of ten options, I had become part of a game. She then said, the comments by people are hilarious. I asked, how about the many who may not have commented and only believed you just got your nipples pierced? She responded with a big laughter and said, ‘That’s their problem’. Indeed, that is our problem. May God be our helper. My name is Yaw Sompa and I believe in Ghana. 

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[1] http://geology.com/records/highest-mountain-in-the-world.shtml

Economic Messiahs and the Falling Cedi

It is sort of an irony that we have some of the best economist the nation has ever produced in government yet the Ghana Cedi has a mind of its own. Is it the case that the cedi ‘no dey sabi’ book econometrics? This is a puzzle I attempt with fun. Now let the games begin, please summon a prophetic convocation to arrest the cedi however, as my form four economics may be shallow.

Let us begin from the beginning, shall we? The tales of money bares the stories that a long time ago in ancient cultures, humanity had no need for ‘money’ as our ancestors were hunter gatherers and organized societies as tribes and bands. Tribes were predominately self-sufficient as they produced what they needed. In rare occasion when there was a need for what they needed but was not within their specialized skills to produce or their resources were limited in such respect, they will exchange what they had for what they wanted from other tribes. ‘Price’ was determined by how much demand there was for a good or services and how much supply was available.

This simple process of barter became the foundational understanding to modern economics. The stories continue to speculate that the practice continues through Ancient Egypt and it was not until 600BC when King Alytattes of Lydia introduced the first coin minted as currency. Money had been born, but as societies evolved and got complex, money took several forms although the base ideology remained the same: Backed by ‘sovereignty’, ‘a standard for measuring wealth’ and a ‘denominator for exchanging goods and services’.

The nature of the world may have significantly changed from what we assume ancient civilizations to be but the underlying understanding of trade for which money is needed remains very similar. Before this article gets overly ‘booklong’, there is a rather fascinating story about money Francisco López de Gómara[1] shares about money, “In 1519 Hernán Cortés and his conquistadors invaded Mexico, hitherto an isolated human world. The Aztecs, as the people who lived there called themselves, quickly noticed that the aliens showed an extraordinary interest in a certain yellow metal. In fact, they never seemed to stop talking about it. The natives were not unfamiliar with gold – it was pretty and easy to work, so they used it to make jewellery and statues, and they occasionally used gold dust as a medium of exchange. But when an Aztec wanted to buy something, he generally paid in cocoa beans or bolts of cloth. The Spanish obsession with gold thus seemed inexplicable. What was so important about a metal that could not be eaten, drunk or woven, and was too soft to use for tools or weapons? When the natives questioned Cortés as to why the Spaniards had such a passion for gold, the conquistador answered, ‘Because I and my companions suffer from a disease of the heart which can be cured only with gold.’” This story is very familiar to what we are told of Gold Coast and its colonization, I and my people suffer from a disease of the heart which can only be cured with the dollar as our real value is neglected and plundered.

The history tells us that our forefathers battered gold for mirrors, human beings for gin, and such similar trades we may find humorous and sad at the same time. That was rather ‘fair’ exchange one will argue. The philosophical problem of ‘fairness’ was fundamental to barter as that means of trade was bound to fail with increasing civilization. With growing technology had come specialization and full-time employment to provide such skills as carpenters, doctors, lawyers, etc. The idea of specialization has become a dominate theory in international trade, offering that, it is worthwhile to specialize nearly exclusively in the ‘product of your strength’ and trade it with others for all the other goods one needed. This sounds intuitive and we swallowed without questions, finding strength in producing raw materials like gold, timber and recently oil.

Specialisation however creates a problem – how do you manage the exchange of goods between the specialists and how do you determine value of one’s specialties? The currency problem I am therefore of the view is one rooted in valuation.

Before I proceed, the clarity by Yuval Noah Harari about what money is, is rather helpful to our understanding of the problem, “Money is not coins and banknotes. Money is anything that people are willing to use in order to represent systematically the value of other things for the purpose of exchanging goods and services. Money enables people to compare quickly and easily the value of different commodities (such as apples, shoes and divorces), to easily exchange one thing for another, and to store wealth conveniently.”

Yes, the problem is valuation, but the nature of the valuation is a purely subjective methodology based in our collective ‘trust’. What does USD1/GHS5.5 mean? Considering the fact that the value of the dollar is only rooted in the strength of the sovereignty that issues it and the willingness of someone holding GHS5.5 to exchange it for one dollar, how shall we determine such value in trust? Of course, it is more complex that just saying, trust. This institutionalized ‘trust’ has been created through very complex and long-term network of political, social and economic relations. I could rant on these theories for days but let me move to summarize my thoughts with my opinion of the solution:

1. The dollar has value because of its principle of universal convertibility. The dollar has become the currency we revert to as the denominator for international trade and considering that we import toilet papers to poop (ooops), we are bound to need a lot of dollars for the loo. Is it possible to organize Africa differently with a more integrated political, social and economic relation where we do not need dollar to trade with Nigeria for example? Can we strengthen African cooperation as a reorganized tribe, electing to trust in the subjective valuation of our currency rather than electing another town’s paper because it has a face of a queen we became independent of?
2. The idea of inviolability is somewhat built into the belief in ‘priceless’ things. Such things as honour, loyalty, morality and love. “These things lie outside the domain of the market, and they shouldn’t be bought or sold for money. Even if the market offers a good price, certain things just aren’t done. Parents mustn’t sell their children into slavery”. It will appear we are exchanging ‘priceless’ things for pennies and dollars. We are selling national pride and patriotism, selling ourselves short devoid of all things sacred. Perhaps if we found value and pride in Ghana, its value will appreciate with its currency.
3. The basis of the depreciating cedi is our collective mistrust. We have elected to trust the dollar driving its demand rather than the cedi. We do not trust the next-door neighbour but we trust the coin of other races. It is ironical Ghana Home Loans will easily offer a loans in dollars for a property sold in dollars built by a foreign developer who battered the land for a ridiculous exchange but the same organization priding itself as Ghanaian will conveniently tell you it cannot finance a cedi loan for the same property. The Finance house calls itself Ghana and yet trusts the dollar, the developer uses a land in Ghana he got for chicken change but trusts the dollar as a store of wealth and we dare question on what basis the cedi falls? The joke is hidden in our collective mistrust of the sovereignty that produces the currency Cedi.
4. The mystery of the ‘market’ needs a bit more coerced regulation. According to the Bank for International Settlements triennial report of 2016, the foreign exchange market cap averaged $5.1 trillion per day with UK accounting for over 35% of the turnover and US about 20%. The two countries are therefore more likely to determine the direction of the market as they jointly account for over 50% of the market turnover. There is a rather interesting fact, the US Dollar makes up 85% of forex trading volume. Let us assume for the purposes of humour that the market is never rigged, although Barclay was fined $2.4bn for forex rigging in 2015. So the assumption is a fair market but the question remains how is value of Ghana’s specialties determined and how does that affect the demand for the cedi. I find the comedy rift as big market players take position against nations and through the sheer force of their long or short position drive the currency in direction they desire for profit. 
5. We have all somewhat been convinced of an invincible hand by Adams Smith, a half-truth for an era where economics has taken a purely behavioural turn. The political economic gymnasts need to wake up from the slumber of 1800 economics and nudge effective behavior among the speculators who do profit of the fall of the cedi. The sovereign state of Ghana needs to assert such sovereignty to rescue itself of such shame acting truly independent to act in its self-interest not subject to the laughable theories of demand and supply which could be primed to a statistical whim. Behavourial economics clearly suggest irrationality of markets and thus after all that is said, hotels will still charge in dollar equivalent irrespective of how little we may understand their rational and these are the things the state must prevent to manage the demand for the dollar. A state cannot be subject to an eternal capitalist creed as short-term view of profit by businessmen gladly lead to a trade of Ghana for pennies. The state must regulate the currency market if it must gain the necessary control.
6. There is a rather insightful solution from the last verse in Genesis 41. In the spirit of a national cathedral shall we listen to the word, “So all countries came into Egypt to Joseph to buy grains, because the famine was severe in all the lands”. It is time we actively pursued the training of men like Joseph in Ghana. Men and women of skill who have solutions for which all the world will come to buy. I pay dollars to advertise on Facebook, increasing the need of the dollar and fast pacing the depreciation of the cedi because one young man created value on the web for which we all assemble to give what he requests for the value he offers.

In conclusion, let me remind all political actors of the trend of the Cedi for the last twenty years. The trend of our currency since 1998 is purely exponential with a curve: y=9E-07e^0.0004x and correlation coefficient of R² = 0.9277. These are fact I share as an art of impressionism but for the lay person it means that your value in Ghana cedi will fall by half almost certainly every five years. But for those who bet against the Cedi they will increase their worth 50% every 5 years.

People will elect to preserve wealth in forms they find more enduring. Money is thus a universal medium of exchange that enables people to convert almost everything into almost anything else. The essential question in our dilemma of the falling cedi should be what are we converting our resources to although we could be truly self-sufficient with same? Everyone always wants dollar which drives its demand because everyone else also always wants dollar. This may mean we are exchanging all our resources for dollar which in itself means nothing except as a means for what we truly want or need. My last thoughts are that, what can we have as a tribe without needing the dollar? I pray in our pursuits to arrest the cedi we find these answers rather than offertories in dollars, then perhaps we would have solved one of our old aged problems, the dollarization of our economy.

My name is Yaw Sompa and it is indeed an AfricaLearn revolution, #EducatingTheMind #TransformingTheLand.

Yaw Sompa

yaw.sompa@gmail.com

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[1] Francisco López de Gómara, Historia de la Conquista de Mexico, vol. 1, ed. D. Joaquin Ramirez Cabanes (Mexico City: Editorial Pedro Robredo, 1943), 106.

Reconciling Death

“My goal is Simple. It is a complete understanding of the universe, why it is as it is and why it exists at all.” – Stephen Hawking

Last week Friday had come promising to be commemorative as I was preparing to travel to Peki Adzokoe. I took goofy face pictures and as the age require, I updated my status, thanking God for a good week. I was particular grateful for the progress Africa Learn was making and it’s VFund to help grow great ideas.

I head an Operational Risk Department for a strong and resilient bank, a new career path that had been inspired by the man for whom I was going to Peki. Clement Agbo was the Head of Operational Risk at UT Bank when I was an Enterprise Risk Analyst, I was pioneering Risk Analytics, Credit Risk Modelling and Portfolio Reporting at UT Bank and was known for my own mastery.

Clement had however inspired me to see what was possible with an opportunity in Operational Risk considering my diverse experience across various departments in the bank and my passion for data, systems, process and people. He had died at the age of 48 years, a death that had broken all our heart and only heightened my understanding of the consequences of the collapse of the banks, death that had given me more focus in pursing the movement to teach how to build sustainable businesses in Africa and live the next generation examples of such enterprises.

Today, however, is not exactly about Clement and definitely not about me, it is about Emmanuel Boakye Yiadom. Please note that, this writing is purely therapeutic for me and so pardon the round tripping as you sit in my shrink sessions.

He was my family’s favorite Uncle as we all looked forward to him coming home. He seldom came home but the memories with him was some of my fondest growing up. He showed me what life could be beyond the small town of Duayaw Nkwanta. He always came home in his car even in the early 90s and I was sure to receive a gift whenever he came. My ‘closeness’ with him came from the fact that, he always slept at our house on my bed. He slept in my room and it was always nice to have him around. He was the one uncle who gave a child like me an ‘important’ relative to aspire to. We knew him to have a successful career in banking as he retired as a Chief Internal Auditor for a good bank.

Dad Boakye, as I always called him was hospitalized in Korle Bu Teaching hospital, my Dad had called me within the week to inform me he was at the hospital and encouraged me to go check on him. I had been somewhat a prodigal son who had taken the hustle personally, grinding and had not been around since I was told. I did not quiet think it was fatal and I was going to check on him anyway after my trip from Peki. My Dad was making a 7 hour trip to visit him that Saturday after which I will meet them when I returned from the funeral.

Strangely, I missed the bus to Peki and thus was left with one purpose for the Saturday, be a good boy and go spend some time with my uncle, the man I had lived with for my early months when I came to Accra in 2010. The man I had last heard from on December 7^th, 2018 when we both met home when we had gone to visit. Before last hearing of him, we had spoken last when I was lunching my book I think.

It is exactly one month since 2019 began and I must admit the year had been progressive thus far, the 31 days into the year and the hopes for the New Year did not include a vision of a gruesome death of a man I had grown to respect greatly. I will conclude with the story of his death but I can’t write without telling the lessons each time teach me:

1. The choice of a life partner will make or unmake you in life. As I reflect on his life in comparison with some people I know, I have concluded that perhaps, the simple act of marriage is the next most important event after birth. I am convinced your life partner will most likely determine the quality of life and legacy and so focus on that decision for the future and not the present. 
2. Investments in quality of relationships may perhaps enhance quality of life more than a career that ends. As I observed the events after his death, I am convinced good quality relationships perhaps mean more for impact and legacy.
3. Witchcraft may be real, but if even it is not, there are more unexplainable things in life for which faith in God is the only rational option to reconcile such inconsistencies and randomness. 

My uncle’s car we are told caught fire and as he sought to check the smoke he got burnt horribly from head to toe. The car that started the ‘fire’ did not burn neither was there any known explosion as we are told. The car was moved normally after the incident. Police investigators have only questions as much as we have. 

I have cried within the week and do now as I write this, I cry not because he died, I have reconciled the futility of humanity, but I cry because of the nature and manner of his death. He suffered the worst pain imaginable in his last 7 days, pain I can’t define or imagine anyone go through. Unexplained things have happened after his death but above all I will end with a quote from Stephen Hawking, a man who was known as a mind trapped in a vegetative body, “Remember to look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Try to make sense of what you see and wonder about what makes the Universe exist. Be curious. And however difficult life may seem, there is always something you can do and succeed at. It matters that you don't just give up." 

A Culture in Need of a Fix

When I was growing up two things were symbolic of who I was, ‘too-known’ and ‘stubborn’, traits that needn’t be glorious but ones I pride in. I reminisce my childhood always with nostalgia; a feeling of joy that I was never broken irrespective of how hard it got but I get sad knowing how the culture robs us of the best.

Permit me to digress to tell a long tale, one that will aid our understanding of our culture. This story sets the stage for an important inquiry. Once upon a time, time-time. A man by name Philip Zimbardo decided to randomly assign volunteers to the roles of guards and prisoners in a test. Everybody knew this was not serious and was only a joke as each was a student of the prestigious Stanford University. I guess I must have entered the caveat, it is a true story.

Almost immediately after the experiment began, the “guards” started to behave in a dehumanizing way toward the “prisoners,” subjecting them to verbal harassment, forced exercise, manipulation of sleeping conditions, manipulation of bathroom privileges (some of it physically filthy), and the use of nudity to humiliate the “prisoners.” Zimbardo, who played the role of prison superintendent, terminated the experiment after only six days when it was intended to last for two weeks.

This research became an insightful understanding into human behavior, culture and leadership. It is rather curious and interesting that 1971 was the year of the research. That same year perhaps built the foundation of everything we know in modern culture. Intel released the first microprocessor, a technology which revolutionized computing, Walt Disney Opened in Florida, the voting age in the United States was lowered to 18 years old, NASA’s Appolo 14 mission to the Moon was launched, women were granted the right to vote in Switzerland and yes United Arab Emirates was established in the same year. Just as these events set the global stage for modern politics, power and culture Major General Idi Amin Dada took control of Uganda and that same 1971 happened to be the last year of Busia’s government and the end of the second republic of Ghana. 

Let me allow you at this point to reflect on the question, what is Ghanaian culture and how different is it from the culture of other civilized nations? As we all try to figure out answers to these questions these are my thoughts:

1.  Dada gets the meat and milk even if the child needs it most. I honestly don’t know why we call fathers Dada but maybe Dada Amin must make us reconsider. Getting pass the lightheartedness, why did we (or maybe just me) grow up when the best part of the meat and the greater part of milk served to the father when the science that children need that the most abounds. Why did we not ask the question so that we gave the children the best of the meat or the milk?
2.  A child can never be right and should not talk back when instructed. Why is wisdom always associated with age and the perspective of a child never listened to when it is obvious an old clown was born before the king. Why could adult never see the wisdom or at least the thirst of a child’s curiosity? 
3. Why is the 'white' man always esteemed better than the 'black' man? Why do we believe in the colour superiority and even call ourselves 'black' when the last time I checked the colour of our skin was nothing close to black, neither was white anything like the once we call white.  
4. Why do we fear books, reading and pens and actually why the proverb if you want to hide something from a man of colour, hide it in a book? Does learning make us vomit or does too much reading make us mad? Maybe like the biblical Paul we are too short to reach out for books on the shelves.  
5. Why do we believe everything we read? I am sure someone is saying that, so Paul couldn’t pick books from the shelf, wow. Really? Like seriously? Read and gullible are not mutually exclusive. 
6. Why was Akan drama more important than talking point, and who scheduled Akan drama to be televised right after talking point? Or is it just a GTV thing? Maybe more of the ‘G’ syndrome. After all who wants to talk with Gonorrhea? 
7. Why is the ghost always the hero of the story and not Ghana police? Sorry it’s only in the movies. I am still looking for who killed Nancy anyway. 
8. And aww, the new craze, why is the ‘juju man’ not rich or maybe just like the lotto doctor, he is a Good Samaritan that’s all.

Talking about lotto doctors and Good Samaritans, this article was inspired by John Ackah-Blay Meizah and his protégé, the amazing lotto doctors. You may elect to believe the 1000% or 120% per annum or both but why did we not ask the questions of why and how? Our culture needs a fix but I don’t find the solution complex, just curiosity, pure childlike curiosity – the ability to ask the right questions and to have clarity free from all heuristics. 

How do we get hoodwinked by ‘Dada’ and believe he has an aeroplane under his bed? Even if Anty Jackie and Bra Kwame said it was good, and the coolest babes- Dumas and Becca invited us with a wink, how shall we find our mind to decide for ourselves free from groupthink and pluralistic ignorance? Even when shatta, Bhim and Sark say ‘ratata’, how do we know the herb makes one think correctly? 

There is a serious conversation about our culture to be had, but for now let us have our usual laugh, just this time not the trolling at the pain but laugh with hope that just maybe, there will be an awakening of the values of hard work, diligence, curiosity, learning and rigorous independent thinking. Just maybe we need another 1971 that we may build new foundations rather than the authoritarianism of Dada. 

My Name is Yaw Sompa and I am your Learning Partner, It is an Africa Learn thingy… wink wink.