Gilbert Addy --The Eyes And Ears Of Ghana By Cameron Duodu

To Ghanaians who were able to enjoy the 'dying' days of the “Gold Coast” -- that is the years immediately preceding our achievement of independence on 6 March 1957 -- life was, generally speaking, of a richness that is difficult for the younger generation to imagine. The latter may accuse me of nostalgia. They are welcome to do that. Me, I'll let the facts speak for themselves.

And the facts are these: in the years before Ghanaians were allowed by their British colonisers to govern themselves, it was the British and their hand-selected African advisers, who decided how to use the taxes and other moneys collected by the Government, such as export duties, on behalf of the people. They set the priorities for us. They chose what roads were to be tarred -- for instance, because British officials loved to spend their local holidays at Winneba, the Accra-Winneba road was tarred. But the Accra-Kumase road, the lifeblood of the country, was only partially tarred! There are many other examples of self-interest creeping into decisions that should have been taken in accordance with purely objective criteria.

But then, after the 1948 riots, a government of the people, by the people, and for the people was installed in our country for the first time -- in 1951. And in order to prove that this government could look = after the people who voted for it better than their colonial masters had done, progress in all things was embraced in the way a lover embraces a long-lost partner. The CPP Government had urged the people to fight for "SELF-GOVERNMENT NOW!". And when "self-government" did come, it wanted to do things that would make the people recognise the difference between what the "self-governors" did, in contrast to what the "foreign governors" had done.

Free education was introduced and more schools, including secondary schools, built; “accelerated promotion” meant that lucrative posts, formerly reserved for Europeans, were brought into the reach of many Gold Coasters. Above all, self-confidence began to reign in the land -- like falling rain. We knew we could manage our own affairs. And we prepared to do just that.

Among the amenities made more freely available to Gold Coasters at this time, was the radio “rediffusion” box that didn't consume any electricity and could be kept tuned on as long as the radio station --“the Gold Coast Broadcasting Service” (formerly “Station ZOY”) -- stayed on the air. Countless homes in the urban areas, as well as villages and hamlets, were connected to the radio. I remember the day a rediffusion station was opened at Apedwa, in Akyem Abuakwa, a few miles from my town. Although its reach did not cover my town, Asiakwa itself, we were happy that it had reached Kyebi, our capital. We were certain that one day, it would reach Asiakwa too. Well, we hoped that it would.

In fact, the radio box became a status symbol of sorts. Owners of wireless sets and 'radiograms' were envied, of course, but with your own radio box, you didn't miss much, either. So children asked, when they were boasting about how good life was for them (as against you!) “Is there a radio in your town?” Or “have you got a radio installed in your house?”

The radio had many stars. Among them were news readers with golden voices, like the incomparable John Hammond, and Kwame Amamoo (English) or Kwasi Wusu Akyem and Adanse Pipim (Twi); Kweku Acuaah (Fanti); Alhaji Dantani (Hausa) and Alhassan Desan (Dagbani). Or Akwasua Baawa of “Akan Listeners' Choice.” (Those whose names have been deleted by the cobwebs inside my mind should kindly forgive me -- they know what it's like when you want to remember something badly and it just won't come to mind!)

There were these radio stars, and then, there was the superstar. You could ignore the news. And music - well, you could go to night clubs such as Lido or Weekend in Havana to hear the latest numbers played by bands like Tempos Dance Band. But there was one event that occurred only once a year, and which no-one ever wanted to miss willingly. This was the annual football match between the Gold Coast and Nigeria. Whether it was played in Accra or Lagos, it was carried live by the Gold Coast Broadcasting Service, so if one couldn't go to the match, even when it was taking place in Accra, tens of thousands of people attending, one didn't altogether miss it. The radio was there to describe the action for one, and it electrified the people of both countries in a manner that nothing else could do.

The event had two stars -- Gilbert Addy, the commentator from the Gold Coast and Isola Foloronsho, Nigeria's commentator. They each did a stint of about 20 minutes and handed over to the other, and as if the person commentating had anything to do with the performance of the players on the field, citizens of one country were totally dazzled by the commentary of their own countryman, while making fun of the commentary of the foreigner. When Isola Foloronsho once got carried away and said of a Nigerian attack: “It's a goaaal --- No!” it became the national catchphrase of many mocking Ghanaian football fans for years.

So Gilbert Addy, when a match was in progress, became not only the eyes and ears of the Gold Coast but the embodiment of the country'so hopes.

It was a difficult role to play successfully, but Gilbert managed it very well. He had a nice voice, which to a radio performer, was the most essential gift to have. And then, he had a good English accent, picked up at Achimota School, which came as close to "Received English" as an African could be expected to have. He didn't "put it on" but spoke naturally, nevertheless, there was no mistaking the difference between his accent and that of his Nigerian counterpart. So, the "battle of the accents" was also a subtext to the rivalry that the football match represented. Gilbert was amazingly eloquent -- he had a command of the English language that, for a non-native speaker, was impressive --among his favourite subjects of study, was English literature. Finally, he had a timely-tuned technique. He knew where to use the pregnant pause; where to shout "ohhhh!" in disappointment at a missed chance to score, just as the Ghanaian crowd did; and we all struggled with him as he grappled with his tongue and mind to find the most appropriate word to use to describe a move on the field. So when the word he was searching for came, you were with him all the way. Such empathy is what many a commentator would die for -- but it was given to Gilbert as a free gift.

Gilbert also knew exactly how he could convey excitement by raising his voice, yet without getting so carried away that his words became inaudible through excitement. People hung on his words so much that that subconsciously, they blamed him when the Gold Coast team was not playing well!

So just imagine what a hero Gilbert became to his countrymen and women when he announced, at the end of the annual match played in Accra in 1955 -- “There goes the final whistle, and the result is: Gold Coast - seven, Nigeria - nothing!” Nobody who heard that commentary has ever forgotten it. That match has never been equalled in Ghana's history and will probably never be. It stuck to Gilbert like a personal achievement, because he was able to convey this incredible victory to his people in a manner that made them feel they had witnessed the feat themselves. Yet, he had enough good manners not to exhibit undue triumphalism, which would have insulted his Nigerian listeners. It was a narrow line to draw, but he managed it, for he and Isola treated each other like buddies. This he wouldn't have been possible if either of them had shown too much partiality against the efforts of the team of the other's country.This polite collaboration had an element of self-preservation in it, of course, for after all, if either one had lost his head and offended the other in his country, the other one would have only had to wait for one year before avenging himself on the other, in his turn. When the other came to his own country.

“C K Gyamfi... to James Agyei... Agyei passes to Baba Yara... who gives the ball deftly to Mohammed Salisu on the left flank... Salisu SHOOTS! It's a goal!" Other names Gilbert turned into household names were Oscar Gesper, Chris Briandt, Aggrey Fynn and Edward Acquah. (He described one of Acquah's shots as a “sputnik shot”). Gilbert Addy made these players into stars for thousands who would have walked past them if they had met them in the streets; he made them feel as if they knew them personally and had watched their artistry in person. Yet all Gilbert was equipped with were a microphone and a silvery tongue.

He himself assumed gigantic proportions in the eyes of many Ghanaians; many were disappointed to find that he was a fairly short man, when they finally set eyes on him in person. In the days before television, those who enjoyed mass stardom were almost like spirits: each fan built up the star's personality in his own way, and many were never disillusioned, for it wasn't easy to come across people like Gilbert Addy in person. I can remember to this day, the first time he was pointed out to me, when I went to work at the Ghana Broadcasting Service in 1957.

These were some of the thoughts that raced through my mind as I sat in the Archway Methodist Church, London N19, on Friday, 27th March 2009, with a group of mourners, to bid goodbye to Gilbert Addy. He had passed away, exactly a month previously, at the age of 82.

Gilbert was born in Accra on 7 September 1926. His father, a well-to-do quantity surveyor, sent him to the best school in the country at the time, Achimota Primary, from where he went on to Achimota Secondary School.

Gilbert loved sports and he enjoyed playing cricket, football, hockey and athletics while at 'Motown'. He was academically gifted and excelled in languages, literature and sports. On leaving school, he joined the Gold Coast Broadcasting Service in 1946, and quickly established himself as the first African news reader in English, while at the same time, also reading the news in Ga.

When the GBS introduced sports programmes, Gilbert became the voice that described sports events to the station's listeners. He also commentated on national occasions, such as ceremonial openings of the Legislative Council (later Assembly) by the Governors of the Gold Coast. Gilbert's forte was the assiduous manner in which he carried out his research before he went on the air to describe an event. He was never lost for words and always managed to bring in a good bit of background, which gave context to the vivid descriptions he made of the actual events. He was a master of what broadcasters call “colour” -- he could make even a dull event seem lively, by the way he spotted unusual aspects of the event, and brought them alive with well-chosen words. He didn't say "er... er..." too often, as some less gifted commentators of live events are wont to do.

One of Gilbert's colleagues -- himself a commentator of no mean repute, is Joe Lartey, and I shall now quote from the message sent by Joe Lartey to Gilbert's family, on learning of Gilbert's death. Over to you, Joe Lartey!:

Quote: Live [radio] commentary in those days was like magic to most listeners and Gilbert was clearly in the spotlight -- the toast of the society ladies and the elite and all. But you know what? Gilbert had a strong character -- he was a near-perfectionist and a disciplinarian. He earned himself = the appellation of “Mr No Nonsense”. In spite of all the adulation heaped upon him, he maintained his life'so focus and found time to improve on himself… He was [thus] able to rise above the average. No wonder then that in 1964, he picked up a job with the radio service of the International Labour Organisation (ILO) and gave it a meritorious service for years [in Geneva] before crossing over to settle in Britain.

“There are thousands in whose memory the name, Gilbert Addy, will linger fondly for ever. I am one of them -- the only surviving old time sports and ceremonials commentator, “Joe Lartey, over to you!” UNQUOTE

Gilbert Addy married his surviving widow, Naa Adorkor Addo, in May 1955. He had children both before and during this marriage. They number thirteen in all and they and the grandchildren they have produced will carry on the name that once held Ghana in thrall -- Gilbert Addy.

   Comments0