The Fowl, the Saucepan, Opana and Opanaba

Life is very strange and could be extremely unfair. It can be only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards. As I was pondering over this, a friend sent me something that I think is worth sharing. And goes:

Someone got married and had to wait for ten years before having a child; there is another who had a baby within one year after marriage.

Someone graduated at the age of 22, yet waited for 5 years before securing a job; and there is another who graduated at the age of 27 and secured employment just after national service.

Someone became a CEO at the age of 25 and died at the age of 50; while another became a CEO at the age of 50 and lived for 90 years.

The Ghanaian music legend Isaiah Kwadwo Ampong summarised this existential farce perfectly in his song, "Akokofunu". He tells the tale of a hungry madman who discovers a discarded dead fowl on a refuse heap. Victory! He has the protein. He has the prize. But he lacks the vessel. He scours the village, yet not a single saucepan is to be found. He goes to bed hungry, clutching a cold, dead bird like a sad, feathery teddy bear.

The next week, the madman finds a pristine saucepan—a culinary goldmine. He scours the village, his eyes wide with the frantic hope of a gourmet, hunted by the ghost of a dead chicken. There is none. The cosmic joke is complete: the fowl without the saucepan; the saucepan without the fowl. It’s a tragedy!

And then there is Opana. Oh, Opana. He spent years crusading against the "ills of society." He stood on platforms, puffed up like a peacock, shouting about corruption. He claimed he wanted power to fix the living conditions of the people. Well, he got the power. And, by some mysterious gravitational pull, the corruption didn't just stay—it threw a housewarming party, invited unemployment, and let hardship move into the guest room.

Now, his son, Opanaba, has caught the presidential fever. He wants to "chop" the seat, as the vernacular so elegantly puts it. But the electorate, having seen this reruns of the same tired sitcom for eight years, is screaming, "Lie-lie, for where?"

Wait, wait! I hear you whispering "Akokofunu". Stop it at once. I am not calling Opana and his son madmen rummaging through refuse heaps for metaphorical poultry. I would never say that. I don't want any trouble. Put no such words in my mouth! I wasn't even talking about politics.

Still, chai, what kind of world is this? A world where you get the power but lose the principles, or gain the office but forget the mandate. We are all just wandering the village with our empty saucepans, hoping for a bird that never lands.

Kikikikikiki. Happy Sunday. Go enjoy the song, "Akokofunu" and try not to look too closely at your saucepan. It might be empty.

Anthony Obeng Afrane