As he spoke, I was touched by the genuineness of his speech. It was a thing of joy to see the Head of an African country throwing his weight behind Literature and Culture, a sector which has unfortunately become the ‘Cinderella’ of governance in many African countries
THE message from the Presidency was brief. ‘’Your meeting with the President will be on Wednesday, 5pm at Jubilee House’’.
Even though it was long in coming, I could not resist the excitement of the meeting with the President of my host country. I thought of what to wear.
My native Agbada, a three piece English suit, my newly purchased Ghanaian smock or an adire top with a pair of jeans trousers….the list was long and varied.
As I prepared for the meeting, it suddenly dawned on me that after Presidents J J Rawlings and John Kuffour, His Excellency, Nana Addo Dankwa Akufo- Addo will be the third Ghanaian President that I would be visiting.
In addition, to the above statesmen, in my long and modest careers as a Writer, Member of Parliament, and Medical Doctor, I have had the privilege of shaking hands with a sizeable number of African Heads Of state. Kenneth Kaunda of Zambia, Muammar Ghadaffi of Libya, Yakubu Gowon, Ibrahim Babangida, Shehu Shagari, Olusegun Obasanjo and Goodluck Jonathan all of Nigeria, Yahya Jammeh of Gambia, Ismail Omar Guelleh of Djibouti and Muse Bihi Abdi of Somaliland are among the names on my still evolving list of Presidential acquaintances.
From the mercuric Ghadaffi and JJ Rawlings to the self- effacing Shagari, Jonathan and Abdi on to the boisterous Obasanjo, Babangida and Jammeh as well as the avuncular John Kuffour and Omar Guelleh, each ‘numero uno’ were alike in different ways. To paraphrase Leo Tolstoy in Anna Karenina “All happy Presidents are alike; each happy President is happy in his own way.”
Perhaps my most memorable if not disturbing visit was to the then President Yahya Jammeh of Gambia. As a member of the team working on a USIS Project on HIV/AIDS, I had visited the President in Banjul in 2008. To my utter chagrin, Jammeh informed my team that we were not needed in the country since he had invented his own miracle cure for the virus using a mixture of herbal medicine and spiritual healing techniques.
Even more bizarrely, he said the cure only worked on Thursdays and Mondays. Expectedly, an unknown number of HIV positive Gambians later died from the phony prescription sparking off a worldwide condemnation of the then President.
Unlike my Banjul trip which I undertook as a Medical Doctor, on this visit, my call at the seat of Government in Accra will be in my position as a Writer, more specifically as the current Secretary General of the Pan African Writers Association (PAWA), the umbrella body of African Writers Organizations. In line with this, my gift bag to the President was filled with books and magazines authored by African writers.
Also included was the PAWA’s medal of the Grand Patron Of The Arts (GPTA) which had been previously awarded to the President in absentia at the PAWA Congress that took place in Nigeria in 2022. My plan was to formally decorate the President with the medal during my visit.
Twilight was setting and the Accra skyline was bathed in a golden luminous glare of the receding hot afternoon sun when I arrived at Jubilee House that glorious August evening. Built on the site of the demolished former Presidential palace called The Flagstaff House, Jubilee House was said to have been built to mark Ghana’s 50-year independence in 2007.
As I made my way to the entrance of the Presidential Palace, my mind went back to the time when the Flagstaff House which was made famous by Ghana’s first President, Osagyefo Dr Kwame Nkrumah was still standing on the same grounds. History has it that on 24 February 1966 soldiers stormed Flagstaff house as part of a military coup that ousted Nkrumah who was away for a meeting of the Non-Alignment States in Vietnam.
After a series of security checks, I was ushered to the top floor Presidential waiting room. ‘’The President will see you, shortly’’ an aide informed me as I sat in the Spartan waiting room.
Unlike my previous Presidential encounters with crowded waiting rooms usually full with security men, political party faithfuls, contractors and diplomats, I was surprised that only three people were in the spacious waiting room. Tucked in a corner of the room was a Television set from where the evening news was being relayed.
The news items were not too good. They were mostly about global inflation, unemployment, floods, migrant problems, high food prices, riots as well as the military coup which took place in Niger Republic just about two weeks before my visit. From Asia to Africa and Europe on to the Americas, it was one bad news after the other. It was as if the whole world was in the grips of a violent economic and social earthquake.
I was still reflecting on how difficult it must be to be a President of a country at such a time when I heard my name being called.
‘’Dr O-k-e-d-i-r-a-n, is that right?’’ a tall, middle-aged lady said, struggling with my name. ‘’Perfectly pronounced’’ I replied as she broke into a smile and asked me to follow her.
After a short walk along a labyrinth of corridors, she opened a door and ushered me to the presence of the President. He was alone in the cavernous office, sitting behind a large table piled with files and documents.
Another surprise.
I was expecting to see the President in the company of some government officials and aides. However, it was just the two of us. He must have noticed my surprised looks as he smiled and asked me to take a seat in front of him.
We were now intimately eyeball to eyeball just like a patient seeing his doctor or a client before his Lawyer.
I was not surprised, as a former practicing Lawyer, the President must have known the efficacy of a one-on-one interaction. It was a very relaxing setting and I quickly warmed up to the avuncular elderly statesman whose wearied look gave a hint of a long day. He apologized for the delay in having the meeting and asked me to brief him about my mission.
Since I had come with a prepared speech, I handed him a copy while I read to my own copy. Just then, an aide joined us, obviously to take notes.
In my brief address, I thanked the President and the people of Ghana for their support for the continental writers’ body which has contributed in no small measure to the promotion of Literature in both the ‘colonial’ and indigenous African languages on the continent.
In addition, I informed His Excellency that the small seed that was planted about three decades ago in the spirit of Pan-Africanism had now become a mighty ‘baobab’ tree with 45 African Writer Organizations as members.
After my presentation, the President spoke. He thanked me for coming and paid glowing tributes to the Pan African Writers Association (PAWA) for its contribution to African unity through Literature and Culture. He reiterated his country’s support for the continental body which had been headquartered in Accra, Ghana for the past 30 years. ‘’Ghana has a lot of admiration for your Association and we shall do everything possible to make sure it continues to thrive’’
As he spoke, I was touched by the genuineness of his speech. It was a thing of joy to see the Head of an African country throwing his weight behind Literature and Culture, a sector which has unfortunately become the ‘Cinderella’ of governance in many African countries.
So relaxing was the meeting that I wanted to stay longer and perhaps, ask the President some questions that had been nagging my mind for some time. I would have asked him how he has been able to navigate the stormy terrain of politics since the 1970s as a serial Member of Parliament, Attorney General, Minister Of External Affairs, and now President.
I would have asked him about his retirement plans when he would step down as President in 2024 after the expiration of his 4- year, two terms in office. I would have asked him…….
However, having overheard some of the Presidential aides mentioning the fact that the President would be travelling that evening for an ECOWAS meeting in Nigeria, I quickly brought the discussion to a close. I presented him with the books in the gift bag and asked for his permission to decorate him with the medal for the award of the Grand Patron Of Arts.
As the medal rested comfortably on his neck and chest, a wave of radiant joy lit up the President’s face as a boyish gleam replaced the hitherto weariness of a long day’s work.
Witnessing the happiness on his face was a great reminder of why we need to appreciate our leaders. Research has confirmed that gratitude makes leaders more effective by boosting happiness and positivity. Grateful leaders are said to be more satisfied at work and less likely to suffer from burnout.
It was late when I finally departed Jubilee House. I eased the car on to Independence Avenue, then on to Accra highway, the main jugular of the city where the ubiquitous Accra late evening traffic stalled my progress.
I literally crawled into East Legon.
Even though it was a weekday, the awesome Accra nightlife was already in full swing as patrons of restaurants and nightclubs could be seen making merry. On the streets, the usual daytime street vendors with their multifaceted wares had now been replaced by another set of traders; scantily dressed young girls standing by the roadside hawking their own wares.
In the lingering lights of the August evening, amidst economic hardship, the merry and indomitable spirit of Ghanaians had come to life.
At the recently built Astroturf football pitch at Adjiringanor, I watched nimble-footed youngsters juggling the ball under the floodlight bringing back nostalgic memories of my sportsmanship years.
So moving was the scene that I briefly flirted with the idea of parking my car and begging for a chance to play. Maybe, there will be a need for a free-kick expert. I still believe that my aging feet can still curve the ball just like David Beckham of old.
Out of all the medley of activities, my thoughts went back to the President. I wondered where he would be by then. Perhaps in another nocturnal meeting or on the plane for his Abuja rendezvous.
To paraphrase George Washington; “Governance is no tea party; it is not eloquence; it is force! Like fire, it is a dangerous servant and a fearful master.”
Suddenly, the traffic eased. I gunned down the car’s accelerator, headed into the night, and made my way into the remains of the day.
