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07.07.2019 Feature Article

The Underground Man Part 25

The Underground Man    Part 25
JUL 7, 2019 FEATURE ARTICLE

Anna had not realized an old man in shorts had come closer to her from the camping site half way on route from Wittenbergen to Blankenese. He spend the summer season in his small caravan over the weekends. His wife was still asleep. As an early bird when the first sun light would appear he was all awake and ready for the day. Sleeping long hours was not for him. Unlike his wife he would go to bed early when nothing of life matters would find his interest anymore.

She turned around to look at the tall man, very athletic, still in good shape. The stranger had a friendly facial expression, his glasses looked a bit old fashioned. Quite obvious it was shaving was not part of his daily routine. His hairy face was an exciting contrast to his light brown skin and blue eyes sharp as a knife that got sharpened each day.

They greeted each other and walked together along the river feeling the water around their feet.

Stephan stopped and looked around: “Last night they came here to the beach in their numbers and enjoyed a great night with beer, steaks and party, party. Now look at all these, all the garbage left behind! Here plastic bottles, there aluminum grills, cheap to get at any shop…or there under the tree plastic knives and folks. These are the same people during the day to go out on demonstration to save the planet…but when it comes to their own private backyard, they are ignorant towards common sense.”

“Human mind is nor correct mind!” said Anna laughing. She stepped out of the water to avoid a bigger junk of yellow foam and spill of oil to hit her legs.

“When I was young”, Stephen remembered with a smile of wisdom on his oval face, “we set out against nuclear power plants. Instead to use buses to reach the plants, we all came by our old, old cars that polluted the air like nothing else. We wanted a greener world for our future and unborn children. Even in Bavaria people cried for their forests destroyed by acid rain and had come to the conclusion life is not about more and more, but better and better…I mean a better quality of life.”

“What are you telling me means, we have not really learnt?” asked Anna standing still.

“We are in fact standing still”, responded Stephan and looked round. “Anything new in this world?”

Anna answered by spinning around several times to take a very good and close loo of her environment: “When I take all the facades, all the shining, shining glimmer away and see behind the curtains…there is nothing new on earth.”

They had not seen each other for a very long time. Joe had been busy collecting used items to send to Ghana for his wife to sell and feed herself and the children, while overtime on his side was supposed to be the corner stone to return in one year back to Ghana to start a small, humble business in Kumasi to make it buy over time. He no longer had the mindset of an African man. Whit his sharp mind Joe had observed the way the Whites had created a good life for themselves. While he had to keep low profile it did not stop him to go out and study anything around him that could potentially help him for his bright future. Avoiding close contacts to Blacks not allowing them to corrupt his mind and keep JuJu attitude away from him, he enjoyed so much the company of most Germans.

Joe told Anna and opened his eyes: “It is so sad, so sad that so many of our ladies come here to make babies after babies and enjoy government support. Al I can tell you, in Ghana is no civil war everyone can speak out his mind anyhow against anyone. Torcher lie in so many other countries for opponents is not there where I came from. And yet, most Blacks here are from Ghana. Look at all the Hair Saloons and Afro Shops, the majority is owned by Ghanaians. As we like to travel a lot as people, not like Togolese or Ivorian’s, we manage it somehow to come here and enjoy a good life while we in fact are very much needed back home to manage our own affairs.” Joe paused for a moment, sat down on the lawns and continued: “Each year three Billions of US Dollars are sent back to Ghana form people in the Diaspora to help their people back home. I do not think anything even close to it comes to Germany from Germans migrating to foreign countries; after all each year around one hundred fifty thousands of them. They rather keep their money for themselves.”

His shoes were open, so he fixed tem again looking around to be on the watch out mode for any situation that could be harmful to him: „These 419 fraudsters stealing money from the White Man by pretending someone of their family had died in Africa leaving a fortune behind, argue they have a moral right to steal money from them for what they had done to them as Colonial Masters way back then. Utter nonsense and rubbish that is. These are simple criminals that our police needs to go after and arrest. I am always amazed how stupid some Whites are to believe these criminals such false phantasies.”

“Greediness”, mentioned Anna enjoying the light wind brise on a hot Sunday afternoon. “Most people want to be rich and work only small for it.”

“A friend of mine told me she had financed an album launch for her brother in Ghana by taking a loan. Instead him to pay her back with interest she had to pay the bank by herself. All he did was to insult her and call her a witch. Another one had managed to bring her sister over to Germany, paid five thousand Euros for her fibroid operation as she had no health insurance to cover her…and in the end put blame and shame on the sister to bring her down. The family of the two sisters even had asked the one first having married a man in Frankfurt, a German in the airline business to take all the money away from the white husband and dump him afterwards. Oh Ghana, oh Ghana….When the truth of our mind can speak for itself loud and clear in public for all to know…we would be punished as a people very well. The kind of noise the air would carry around the world would be louder and more painful than any outfall of an atomic bomb. Wherever our mind goes, empty land is left behind. What we do so bad and wrong to ourselves as a people, no white Nation can ever achieve. The Black Man has a serious problem.”

“We Whites do not understand all that but feel pity for you having misused you all those past and present generations”, said Anna asking the Ice-Cream Seller to come to her.

“Why is it that Whites discovered the Blacks before Blacks even could have the idea to colonize Europeans? I mean, at one stage in history both races did not know of each other, the playing field was open for the brightest mind. Inventions cannot be stopped as thinking cannot be stopped. So why did we in Africa not think like Whites or even better to take them as slaves?” asked Joe looking intensively around. “I only know, Whites always make the same mistake. They do not understand Blacks but come to them with white mentality and so always to wrong conclusions and solutions. Only when you think like us with white expertise and heart, you can effectively be of help to us.”

Anna provoked him by asking: “Is this ever possible? Or will it never happen?”

“Only strong and with a stable heart willingly to walk between two opposing mentalities can achieve that”, kept Joe calm finishing his ice-cream. This time round he had opted for bright green mint flavor

never tasted before.
“So, you mean… .”
“Yes, that is what I mean”, interrupted Joe his friend and got up ready to walk home. “Only a lonely ranger fearless of criticism from any side but trusting his God given assignment can accomplish such a mission.”

“To understand Blacks?”
“Exactly that!” He walked off.
While waiting for her final results and University Degree Certificate having all her papers to relocate to Oxford in England on her desk, Anna had joined a group of Christians volunteering in heavy security prison Fuhlsbüttel close to Hamburg Airport, an old brick building housing serious offenders from round neighboring states. Every two weeks six volunteers from outside would meet with up to ten inmates. The leader of the inmates was an Austrian man, hugh in structure, tattoos all over his arms. Sentenced to fifteen years in prison for having tried to kill a prostitute that had worked for him in his bath tap, he had settled down in his new environment fast and used all possible tricks to make his life most comfortable. Guards did not see one of the volunteers arrived with two shirts but left the meeting with only one on her body.

An old man had broken into kiosk after kiosk steeling good worth nothing imprisoned for life. His face showed he had ended his prison sentence long before he would actually pass on. His shy nature was puzzling Anna to imagine him violating the law.

“Please Anna”, said Charley sitting next to her,” I need an address coming weekend to get out from here for a few hours. These walls drive me crazy. So I beg of you to visit my mother and ask her to give you a letter that I need to have a few moments away from all the shit in here.”

Anna and Charley had become very friendly with each other the arm robber that had gone into two banks before being caught by the police. He was not a typical criminal mind as Anna thought. For her he was only stupid, a bit naïve to have done what he had done wrong.

“I will never give my son such a letter”, stood Charley`s mother in the door frame of her apartment.

Anna had rung the bell, saw an elderly woman with stone cold face before her ready to jump on her. “My son has done so much wrong to us, cause all of us in the family so much pain…”, was the mother between anger, hate and tears saying, “ that I never want to see him again.” She closed the door behind her.

Anna looked down. Was she not the one that had delivered the son, loved him, nourished him , was breast feeding him close to her heart and educated him…and now she hated him so much, her own son, had turned her back on him?

The reason for her to volunteer in prison was to look for her father, to understand how normal, law abiding people, innocent people, turn into sinners ending up behind bars. What does it take to go down that path as genes will never be the answer. For weeks she thought and thought. In prison she would not find the answer was her final conclusion; so Anna left the group again after few months.

…to be continued

Karl-Heinz Heerde
Karl-Heinz Heerde, © 2019

This author has authored 323 publications on Modern Ghana. Author column: KarlHeinzHeerde

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