Letter From The President: Another Joker joins the race

Countrymen and women, loyalists and opponents as you know, I am on leave. I am taking time to rest my mind, body and soul. Within this period, I am supposed to stop thinking about you and all the problems you expect me to solve. I simply have to stay home and enjoy myself while spending some quality time with Mama Tess – aided, of course, by a few bottles of Alomo bitters.

I am really having a good time. But I can't wait for this short vacation to end for me to go out there and start campaigning for the upcoming elections. I just can't wait to go out there and slug it out with all those pretenders who think they can sweet-talk their way to the Castle to sit on the Black Star Stool. As I've said in a previous letter, but for Fiifi Tata Mills, I would have impressed on the Electoral Commission to call off the elections and declare me unopposed simply because I feel that there is no real competition out there.

Tata Mills frightened me a little bit last week when he allowed Kwesi B to join his campaign train. I only hope that Kwesi B does not become Tata Mills' running mate. They will make quite a team to beat, wouldn't they? I don't think I am ready to compete with Kwesi B in any arena. He is too brilliant for my liking. He speaks much more eloquently than I do and if I stand against him on any platform, my very best attempts at a verbal acrobatics display will only sound like the incoherent ramblings of a deaf-mute child . It's a pity (and a real loss for our democracy) that the NDC did not choose him as their pot carrier or flagbearer, however you choose to describe a presidential candidate – but it's a blessing for me and I thank God for it. I don't want to dwell so much on Kwesi B. I just want to make it clear to you that if he becomes Tata Mills' running mate, victory in the coming elections will not be as easy as I have been expecting.

Well, as Kwesi B was jumping on the campaign train with Tata Mills, a certain joker was making a fool of himself (literally) by making clear his intention to contest in the December Presidential polls. Why do I say the man (Eben Nehaku, who, disgracefully, is a lecturer at 'A' Poly) was making a fool of himself? First, he showed up two hours late at the press conference he had called to declare his candidature.

Second, he made very little sense with the speech he delivered at the press conference. His incoherent fumbling and mispronunciations made me – as ineloquent as I often am – feel like a Winston Churchill. His delivery was so poor that even the little band of students who followed him to the conference hall (ostensibly to lend him support) had little choice than to laugh and sneer at him. Thirdly, Mr. Nehaku, gave me every cause to believe, by the policy proposals he put forth, that he hasn't got a clue about the type of nation we want to build for ourselves. For example, he promised that if he is elected (God forbid), he will censor the media and place a ban on all religious sects in our country, except Christianity and Islam. What does this tell you? For me, it means that Mr. Nehaku is living in a different planet, unaware that we are struggling to build an open, democratic society where people have the freedom to express themselves and to choose who and how they worship. I can't believe that Mr. Nehaku is a lecturer at A-Poly. I wonder how he got his job and I entreat you all to pray for his students. Only God knows the sort of crap he has been pumping into their heads.

Whoever deceived Mr. Nehaku into believing that he can join the contest for the Black Star Stool should be arrested and sent to Guantanomo Bay for inciting the lecturer to terrorise us and waste our ears with his incomprehensible and illogical outbursts.

What is it that makes the likes of Mr. Nehaku, Kofi Wayo, the Domesticator and Georgie Addugey think that they can be sit on the Black Star Stool? I am beginning to think that I am the one who is encouraging these jokers and creating the false impression in their minds that they too can be excellent ones.

Perhaps they think that being the Excellent One in Sikaman is all about sitting in the Castle and receiving delegations (including low profile investors with a few thousand dollars to spare and people coming to announce the death of their relatives). Maybe they are tired of waiting for long hours in Accra's dreadful traffic and they think that if they get the chance to sit on the Black Star Stool, they will be able to ride through traffic with presidential ease. They might also be thinking that the presidency is all about traveling abroad at the least opportunity and getting paid for it. Maybe – just maybe – they think that being the president presents them with a fine opportunity to receive standing ovations for delivering their boring, nonsensical speeches. Or they just want to have an opportunity to be receiving gifts from fellow presidents and favour-seeking business executives, especially after they saw me riding in the Gadafi-donated Mercedes Benz.

Please, I want someone to tell those joking presidential candidates that being a president is no joke – even though I might have made it seem so. It involves a lot more than receiving odd delegations, traveling abroad, driving at high speeds through the city and being applauded for saying nothing.. Our democracy does not need jokers parading as presidential candidates. We don't need people with questionable thinking patterns. We need serious people – who think straight and forward. Our democracy needs people whose intellect and ideas will challenge me to get out of my comfort zone and give of my best. I surely hope, and pray, and wish that Nehaku will be the last joker to put himself up as a president.

Seriously Excellent,

J. A. Fukuor [email protected]