“A day in another land” is what I call mine today. That other land I speak of is not the far away land fairy tales were based on. It is an island of beauty in the middle of an ocean of chaos.
The buildings are lined up in ‘unorthodox’ straightness and the streets cleaner than a baldy head; order, sanity, seemed naturally coded into the psyche of these people, people I never really encountered while there.
The streets were laden with enigmatic afflatus and the lawns beamed with greenness that holds promises of hope. I heard the sound of water sprinklers in the background and episodic announcements of canines bored with the ‘Good Life’.
Perhaps I’m getting overly excited… There are places in this country where systems work! Take a tour of the Airport Hills residential area (If you can bypass the security) or maybe Trasacco Valley, or the Manet Villes or Villagio. Plush neighborhood, orderly houses, street lights, clean streets, covered drains, serene ambiance, intelligible house addresses and street names and security. It was one of the most beautiful places I have been all my life, perhaps I haven’t seen much but I recognize beauty when I see it. It was Oscar Wilde who said “Beauty is a form of genius- is higher, indeed, than genius, as it needs no explanation.”
This is the kind of place we hope, pray and vote for, yet never have. A single picture of these would have rendered this essay useless, but there are things so beautiful that you fear pictures might just ruin their perfection.
This place is what we call in Ghana “Estates”, or “Gated Communities”. It is where Maslow’s Hierarchy is but a mere cocktail, literally. There is nothing to climb, just the ‘Good Life’ to live. They have attained it and even redefined it.
Enough said of this “island in the middle of chaos”. Let me tell you about the journey into this place. But before I go on, it is important to note that, Ghana has a housing deficit in excess of one million units.
Experts believe the situation will be further exacerbated with the increasing rate of urbanization caused by high rates of natural increase and net positive migration.
But as the income profile of the city becomes more diverse and unequal, marked clusters of poverty are emerging. The top 1 percent of the population have carved up parts of the city to themselves.
Sorry, let’s make progress…before I begin to bore you with what a colleague will say is “social studies”.
Painfully I am awoken each morning by the sound from the morning devotion in the church auditorium behind my house, or the call from that mosque down the street or the neighbour who arrogantly presumes he does me spiritual good by playing gospel music at full volume at dawn or the ‘blue kiosk’ blasting music hoping to make his first sale of the day.
I am greeted with the stench from the choked gutter which is also a mosquito factory. Then reluctantly (cos’ I really don’t have a choice) I get onto the ‘trotro’ that makes freshly laundered shirt look worn and dirty, and then we set off on the road that could pass for an “oware game”.
Take it literally when we say “Ghana rocks”, in fact it is the trotro that rocks. Wobbles so hard it shakes off all the laziness and the strength in you, harshly awakening you from the remnants of bright dreams you carry with you from bed.
Slowly we went through streets filled with litter, sights of children and women hawking, young men selling mints and candy, the handicapped and beggars in dire need of alms, mad men sharing pedestrian walk ways and pavements with the sane almost in perfect harmony.
Soon the trotro came to the end of its road, its termination point, a point it is not worthy to go beyond. And soon I was at ‘the gate’ to the community manned by neatly dressed professional security personnel. These security men probe you till you forget your own lies. Stepping beyond this security post onto the ‘asphalt heaven’, I knew I was in a different land. The contrast was sharp, defining and awakening…
These two places are in direct contrast to each other yet exist in undisturbed harmony, so that you will never know the paradox if you haven’t seen it. Today I had seen a different world from the world I know.
Reflecting on all I had seen, I asked myself many questions and pondered many dilemmas. How is it possible that two totally different worlds coexist in such perfect harmony separated by just a wall or a gate? In some of these places, squatters will be found just outside the walls or the gates. They are totally insulated from the Dumsor, the stench, threat of the armed pickpocket, even the humiliation. But, what will it take for those on the other side of the social divide to cross over? What will it take to make the rest of Ghana look even remotely like these communities? Whose responsibility is it to make Ghana work? (Ans: Ultimately it is our responsibility, responsible ordinary Ghanaians).
Real power is with the people; it is you and I who have the power to effect the change we want. The power to choose equality over inequality, progress over retrogression, “Dum” over “Sor”, reason over insanity, accountability over corruption, dignity over shame, abundance over deprivation. Elections present the perfect opportunity for choice; informed choice is the bedrock of democracy.
Luxurious living cannot be for all, but living with dignity must not elude the masses either. Indeed, if all should live like these people, our world will be absolutely unsustainable. Only a few can live in luxury, and for that they cannot be blamed. But descent living must not elude the rest.
How can we attain that society where the welfare of the urban poor can be guaranteed? And if government lacks the will do this, how can we responsibly impress upon it? Otherwise, what can you, and are you willing to do to bridge this ever widening gap of inequality? Ponder over this and when you find your own answer, which you will, Practice it! As for me, I will write, I will demand, I will advocate for social equality through quality and effective and ethical journalism.
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By: Kwame Botchway/citifmonline.com/Ghana