Tate With The Home Run

The Easy White Road
Somewhere early this year, I found, in my readings on the nation’s educational sector, a piece—I forget what the title was—but in the write-up, the writer (founder of an NGO), it seemed was helping close the educational gap in rural Ghana. Being a staunch advocate for public/private partnerships towards development; and specifically, here, for private sector involvement in the nation’s educational development, I was excited to give it a read.

Somewhere in remote rural Ghana, the writer had developed a project aimed at giving our rural children fair shots at literacy and Information Technology—brilliant, isn’t it. There was not a single school in the community when the NGO started, the writer noted.

What ensued was a long-suffering attempt at providing this community with a school. But following this NGO’s progress (reading on), one could not help but wonder: how were they able to quickly and easily gain the partnerships of key governmental agencies and ministries? Which was great, don’t get me wrong. But experiencing for myself, and witnessing the experiences of others, knowing how hard it is to get our governments to ‘actually’ buy into the concept of public/private partnerships (PPPs), I just could not help but wonder: how did they secure all these assistances so quickly?

I went to the ‘About’ section of the website. The founder/president was a White lady. The mystery was solved—almost too quickly.

‘Tater-ing’
This industrious American White lady had been fresh from high school—that means she was what: seventeen? eighteen? She came to Ghana to witness this gaping disparity and sought to do something about it—as people tend to want to do. (It will surprise you how large the number, is of people who seek to do something about problems they stumble upon.).

But the rest was for this lady, as they say, history, as she attained her dream of causing change. The Ghanaian government was there to help make this dream a reality for her (and oh, for these deprived Ghanaian children.)

As she was relating her experience, helping this helpless, abandoned African village (Ghanaian village), one could not help but see—her good intentions aside—remnants of colonialism. It read, word for word, like the colonial era.

Running our Home—that’s a ‘home run’, yes?

Yes, I wrote a sequel to ‘Emperor Dryden Wilson Tate Brown—The White’. Yes, I retitled it to make it look like I am over it, when really, I am not. Because it is not every day that one is presented with a real-life case study—especially after one has been hammering on a certain issue for so long. The issue of the African’s lack of self-worth, and their attempts to build nations, without remedying this cancerous, degenerative flaw—that has some Sisyphus-ness to it (we can’t deny).

Because when building a nation, “there are two things involved”—Basketmouth

1. Natural Resources
2. Human Resources

One is rendered useless without the efficacy of the other. Most importantly, the former (natural resources) is woefully rendered useless without the efficacy of the latter (human resources). And this is an issue I raised in the article ‘A Lack of Self Respect (4)’

The Useless Ghanaian?
Let us not sit here and use the word ‘efficacy’ against the Ghanaian—as a component we are disadvantaged in. If you find a person who insists on this narrative (of uselessness), tell said person to check their circle. All around me, I find the Ghanaian up-and-downing, scrambling around for purpose—not just ways in which they can be useful to their own selves, but to their nation and continent as a whole. I am used to this Ghanaian narrative; anything outside it is foreign to me. I see this drive especially in the nation’s youth now. Modernity, coupled with globalisation, has forced the country into breaking free of her characteristic closed-mindedness.

The Ghanaian youth are expressing themselves, finding purpose in diverse ways—outside those old, established means we have grown accustomed to: Law, Medicine, Journalism, Politics, etc.—to, amongst others, art in all its varied forms. All these have the capacity for success, the capacity for individual economic advancements, consequently, national economic growth.

I am used to the narrative too, of all these efforts, thirst, hunger, being met with dismissals. You see, many a time a person cannot traverse a road alone—roads that eventually lead to successes almost always require a helping hand or two. Public/Private Partnerships, that is one great form of helping hand—it is a very crucial ingredient for nation building. But the Ghanaian mind and capability is always disrespected, relegated to the backseat; and these past colonisers, they get the best of treatments. A high school graduate comes to Ghana, and receives, on a silver platter, governmental attention and help because she is White. A Ghanaian professor has to “go and come back later”. Pardon me using this word again—stupid. That is stupid.

There is a way around this though. What was it that this White gentleman, Robert Frost said?—“the only way around it is through it.” In this case, the only way around it is to break it. A nation-wide, continent-wide conscientisation, re-socialisation is necessary. And for change to happen, we must first recognise and admit to the problem. And by God, isn’t there a problem! Our politicians can say all they want; promise all they can; fail and succeed all they may—the fact remains:

Ghana will never be a developed nation…

…. if our human resource capital is not given their due.

That is not a curse, it is truth. It is science. A natural-resource-scant nation has a hundred percent chance at development over a human-resource-abandoned nation.

Tater—ing
I have written three articles, in all, on this Dryden Wilson gentleman—Mr. Dryden, I guess you can brag about this too. Nothing in your home country; rock star, Presidential-motorcade-worthy, in an African country—that is a home run, no?

And where is his award, please? Mr. Brown see Dr. Kwame Fordjour for your UN Humanitarian Award. Sorry it skipped us.

Mr. Wilson, when you got out of the motorcade, we forgot to greet you with a dance ensemble. Come back for your adowa.

I hate to brag, but I have been in a Presidential Motorcade myself, you know. Well, it wasn’t technically ‘Presidential’. It was a funeral procession, but a motorcade, nonetheless. I guess that is how close the average Ghanaian can come to a motorcade—when accompanying Ghanaian corpses to their graves.

Reparation
Whiles we work towards change, Mr. Vice President, we Ghanaians need appeasement for this embarrassment caused us. I have spoken to all Ghanaians and they have chosen me to have a Presidential meeting on their behalf. We can discuss a number of PPP-fueled projects in this meeting. So, I guess—call me. You can get my number from the Editor of Daily Guide. I don’t even need a Presidential Motorcade—well, if you insist, I’ll take it. The President can be in the meeting too—I won’t be mad at that.

Also, we invoke the timeless principle of tit-for-tat against the Americans. We have selected a Ghanaian representative to be invited for a meeting with the US President. Coincidentally, it was me again Ghanaians selected. I will take that meeting after Trump leaves office, please. I don’t need that mask-less guy coughing into my face.

BY YAO AFRA YAO