And Now, On To The Cup Final By Cameron Duodu
Bill Shankly, the extremely successful former manager of Liverpool football club, was once (mis?)quoted to have said:
"Football isn't a matter of life and death - it's much more important than that!"
So if I liken the 28 December 2008 runoff of the presidential election to a football Cup Final, do not think I am being frivolous.
Cup Final matches have been known to induce heart attacks in perfectly healthy individuals, who are unable to contain the excitement such matches produce. So although Mr Shankly erred a bit on the side of hyperbole, he wasn't too far wrong. Anyway, no-one who died watching a thriller of a football match would disagree with him -- if such a person could speak from "over there".
My word of advice to the parties, which they will, of course, ignore, is this: stop analysing and reanalysing the reasons that brought about the 7 December result. Analysis doesn't bring votes. It is footwork that does.
I have seen this happen with my own eyes. In the 1954 election campaign in which Dr J B Danquah lost his seat in Akyem Abuakwa Central to his own nephew, Kofi Asante Ofori Atta (otherwise known as Aaron) I saw organisation at the grassroots level, carried out by the CPP, as I have never again seen in political life in Ghana.
I happened to be friendly with the driver of one of Aaron's brothers who still lived at Kyebi, Mr Kwabena Bosomprah, and I used to accompany them to visit CPP party activists. The visits took place invariably at night.
The significance of such night meetings is not difficult to understand. At night, if one went to meet a waverer, or even a member of the opposite camp whom one wanted to win over, one could do so without causing embarrassment to, or creating pressure for, the targeted individual, by prying eyes.
The other important point is that when you go and wake somebody up at night to talk to him, you tacitly make the statement that he is so important to you that you prefer talking to him to sleeping in your warm bed, probably in the arms of your wife or lover. Ego plays an important role in politics, say I.
Now, it is not as if Dr Danquah did not campaign vigorously himself. I once saw him fast asleep sitting erect on the back seat of his car in broad daylight -- the lack of sleep was getting to him. But he could not compete with Bosomprah and his activists. I can still remember the names of some of them -- Mr Larbi Darko and Kwaku Asamoah of Asiakwa, Eric Danquah of Tafo, Amoah Krodua and 'Koo Kallam' also of Tafo, and people I didn't meet -- such was the secrecy -- from Asafo, Apedwa, Wirenkyiren Amanfrom and Odumase among others.
I cannot say for sure that Dr Danquah took some members of his constituency for granted, being as well known as he was.
But being 'well-known' has its limitations: "Yes, we do know him well. The question is what has he done for us.?"
If a candidate can't answer that question, then his goose is cooked. And by us, the voters do not mean 'us' as we in Ghana, but us, as here on this spot.
If your answer to their basic question is not answered to their satisfaction, they will wait until you have left. And then they will laugh at you.
"He thinks we are fools. We will never give him our vote! Idiot!" And come election night, the declaration from the Returning Officer doesn't seem to "make any sense at all."
But doesn't make sense to whom?
The candidate who wore out his heels seeing people at night, smiles -- and goes home to sleep and sleep.
The thing that elections show us again and again is that people are spiteful. If a voter comes to your house orr office in Accra from your constituency to see you, and your arrogant handlers give him the run-around, no matter what you do during campaign time, he and those he can influence will dump on you.
Of course your handlers will have acted in perfect good faith, trying to protect you from unnecessary interruptions, whilst you -- maybe, haha -- are thinking about 'big things', having to do with the whole country. Therefore you have to train your handlers -- to nicely interview the people who want to see you and make sure you call them back when you can, or if they are not on the phone, that you send someone to go and fetch them. Costly and bothersome? Trust me -- that's how elections are won.
You see, in a society like that of Ghana, despite numerous appearances on radio and television, it is the personal touch plus a secret cash gift in sympathy for a chap's plight, that wins the day. Personal contact engenders an impression that is likely to be passed on: 'do you know that such and such a candidate isn't at all as stuffy as I thought'?
That one sentence can help to eradicate a perception, and perceptions, once gained, are not easily shaken off.
What else can I say? Except that Ghana has already received huge marks in the international community for the orderly manner in which we ran this very tight election. Let us keep it up.
I beg of the NDC to refrain from engaging in the sort of harmful black propaganda they indulged in shortly after the results began pouring in, when in order to go to Plan B, in case they lost, they began to level accusations against the military high command. I tell them from the bottom of my heart that THEY don't want to see military rule ever again Ghana. Why?
Under military rule, any man with a gun can make policy on the spot. Before his well-meaning, perhaps even humanitarian, bosses hear of what he's been up to, the harm would have been done already -- sometimes with fatal consequences.
It is only under military rule that it will enter a person's head that -- as an example -- fashion objects or clothes, which are sold purely to vain people on their brand appeal, can be subjected to price control.If the thing "nice" you paa, go get money but don;t go around burning peopl's shops and harassing them.
It is also, only under military rule, that a journalist can try to send a news story abroad, only to find an educationally-challenged soldier sitting at the desk of the "Cable Office" as the censor of the day.
"What is the meaning of this word, sah?" I have been asked more than once in the past. It made me feel sick. Of course, there weren't enough officers around to be doing such boring "routine" work. So anybody would do. "Gee, is this Ghana?" I used to ask myself. Meanwhile the officers in charge of government were praising themselves to high heaven for having achieved wonders.
No -- please leave the military out of it and let's have our nice Cup Final. We deserve a jolly carnival, not a route march.
Martin Cameron Duodu is a United Kingdom-based Ghanaian novelist, journalist, editor and broadcaster. After publishing a novel, The Gab Boys, in 1967, Duodu went on to a career as a journalist and editorialist.
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