(This piece was inspired by the reported high rate of teenage pregnancies in the Brong Ahafo Region of Ghana. Please farmers (men who indulge in having sex with teenage girls) help the farmed (teenage girls who indulge in sexual activities ending in teenage pregnancies) mature in growth to avoid the canker)
Tamale is no doubt a motor bike zone but the motor bikes have now turned into the murderers of the young. Three years ago, my mother who went to the Tamale Teaching Hospital told me about a motor accident which crushed a young man’s head leaving his body jerking for minutes on a stretcher, obviously being left to die because there was nothing any one could do to save him. A former colleague at Bishara Radio; Eric kwewu, died last year through motor bike accident. He was riding to one of the villages in Tamale without a crash helmet, reports say he fell, hit his head on a stone and died instantly leaving his wife and family and rushing to the land of the unknown. Whenever there is a rally, a funeral or celebrations of any sort in Tamale, many are those who end up maimed or lose their lives because of motor bikes.
Yesterday, I had a health issue and was rushed to the emergency ward of the Tamale Teaching Hospital, when I woke up, I saw a young man of about 24 years bleeding profusely with many bruises on his body. As they spoke while tending to him, I got to know it was through a motor accident. He was riding without a crash helmet and crashed into someone. My pressure started going up and the doctors complained that I had to be detained. I knew my problem, and knowing an important person there, I told her to get me out of there by all means.
During my infusions, another young man of about 25 years, entered with head injuries and bruises all over his body. He wanted the workers to help him because according to him, there was another patient who was in a crucial state than he was and needed care. When the old man was brought in, I begged to go to the bathroom and vomited for minutes. The man who was sitting behind the hurt rider had half of his body butchered like that of a cow. A brother who was with me also brought out all that was in his stomach and refused to eat because of what he saw.
So in a matter of five hours spent at the hospital, I witnessed two gruesome accidents caused by motor bikes at the Tamale Teaching Hospital and I asked myself why nobody is doing anything to erase this canker. I can say for a fact that most of the deaths that occur in Tamale are caused by motor accidents.
Riders do not care about wearing helmets, they complain there is heat in helmets. When they ride, most of them do not care about the traffic regulations. It is easy to see a motor rider insulting a pedestrian after refusing to blow his horn when he came from behind. I have realised to most, the speed tells of the skills of the riders and so they bask in how people perceive them. And oh, it is easy to see these overloadings anywhere.
I know many are teaching safety on our roads on radio and televisions. It is time to stop talking on radio stations and concentrate on the happenings on our roads. I will not mention names but I will say that the youth are being made to go waste because of lack of checks on our roads. The indiscipline is causing us lives. I know when some are arrested, their families mobilise themselves to attack the police but if we know they fear the soldiers, why don’t we bring them in to help? Please help! Help save lives in Tamale if you know you have the authority to do so. What is a tree with only brown leaves on top and many greens beneath? Ask yourself and wake up, for Tamale can be that tree.
Life as a Void Consisting of Only Time and Eternity
An exploration of Emptiness, Nothingness, Inner and Outer spheres/realms of being
Do women occupy the inner sphere/sanctum of purity? Is the enclosed female space a sign of sanctity whereas the open hinged male space the spirit of adventure? Are women contained by societal definitions of femininity resulting in us being “Birds in Gilded Cages”. What is the extent of the power we have as women to define ourselves?
Katrin Sigurdardottir’s piece “Boiserie” explores many levels of existence. The enclosed room a replica in white of the Hotel de Cabris located in the Wrightsman galleries of the Met brings to mind a sense of the finite and infinite. As I observed visitors who thought they would be able to see their friends on the other side of the windows, they quickly realized the panes were security glass, meaning one could look…