‘Abrokyire’ Palaver: Oh my baby!

I am enjoying the summer sun at a park when I hear “oh baby, baby mmmmmwaaa” and a kiss blown behind me. I turn to see who is showing such affectionate afternoon love to her baby only to see this woman cuddling a ‘blonde’ puppy.

Aba! I exclaim to myself. Now even dogs are babies but yes this is America. The first time I experienced this it blew my mind when a panel member at a conference described her family as her dog who loved a lot of attention and needed a new blanket.



Then I remembered our family dog which my father bought from that Achimota place where dogs are sold by the roadside and performed a naming ceremony on his way home simply announcing to the household the arrival of Patience.

Here comes Papa entering the house with Patience, walks into the kitchen and from the watchful eyes of his mate goes in to take Nido milk and make a good shake for Patience. Pla, pla and after two attempts our new pet walks away. Not even the petting and cajoling skills of the poor man would make Patience enjoy our valued Nido milk shake. Then later in the evening my mama decides to put two morsels of fufu near her seat for Patience and with the speed of lightning he swallows the first two and many more to follow. Nima ‘kraman’ versus milk? You must be joking.

Unlike my Patience, the pets (dogs and cats) in this country are really pampered. They wear designer clothes- skirts, shorts, blouses and suits. More people are actually getting into designing pet clothing because apparently it makes good money. One website (darlingpetboutique) even has dog sweaters, jackets, T-shirts to fit “XXS to XXL Dogs”. So whether the dog is ‘obolo’ or ‘atiaa’ there are sizes for all.



There are special beds and blankets just for pets. It is so cozy sometimes you may wish you were only smaller and the designer blanket costs about 100 dollars. Then there are special toys that can be bought from animal stores for your ‘baby’ to play with.

What blew my mind was the animal police and animal courts.

Talking about animal police, I am making a recommendation for the immediate ‘deportation’ of Ernest Debrah, the minister for Food and Agriculture for suggesting before parliament that all “unlicensed stray dogs are to be confiscated and destroyed”. What license if I may ask? That is where the animal police will be valuable- policemen trained for dogs and cats and if you find a stray animal just call them and they come rushing with their phones and gadgets ready to take the stray animal into one of the hundreds of animal shelters dotted around this country where they can be put up for adoption.

There is a television commercial which is so emotional you would think it is soliciting help for abandoned children but no, it is for dog adoption. I stopped listening because it infuriated me- ah when we are talking about human beings then ‘kraman’ but well this is America. But that is what dog welfare officials do for a living- look for homes for dogs to be adopted into. America the beautiful!

Then there are the animal courts where animal disputes are settled. Trained lawyers and judges in their gowns go and argue about which animal scared the other and which one is a bully and then fines are imposed. Wonderful America!

Online legal services abound which litigate on behalf of dogs, cats, mice, lizards and ‘bola’ birds which “face daunting legal disadvantages”. So if the dogs that Mr. Debrah wants to ‘demolish’ need legal services I am ever ready to find lawyers to defend their rights to bark and run amok into the gutters of Ghana like my former dog Patience (former because it walked out when the house gate was left open and never came back) and dash into our living rooms posting a different complexion and requiring immediate shampooing. That is their right and I will not allow this to be taken from them.

With only a couple of months left for me to graduate I am beginning to regret having ‘chewed’ book all this while when I could simply work as a dog walker or be a dog day care provider with special discount rates for bed and breakfast. If people go to work I will walk their dogs to enjoy some fresh air or keep them in my home, feed and bathe them if my services are contracted for days.

That is America, where families can be defined to be one human being and a rabbit or a parrot. The next time you hear someone talk about their family please remember to ask whether it is the wow-wow family or the meow-meow one and you will appreciate why I disagree with Mr. Debrah about his ‘demolition’ of Ghanaian dogs. Please go to the embassy and look for the ‘animals’ consular and just secure visas for them for they will be valuable assets here.

Want to have a feel? Just google dog services or dog day care and you will be amazed at the range of services available – anyone looking to be in my dog care business? Just sign on.

‘Abrokyire’ Palaver: We are ignorant, others are “ignoranter”

I have never pretended to come from a country of knowledge or where people are better informed than some countries in the world. I am therefore not surprised when people pose certain questions about the United States and all that it is supposed to embody.

I remember that one of the first lessons I learnt, officially during school orientation, was that “Americans know nothing beyond their country” so I am not too surprised when even students in an academic institution keep alluding to Africa as one country. When the Kenyan electoral disturbances broke out, I remember some students asking if my family was okay because there was war in Kenya. Hmm nice to be that thoughtful but I do not come from Kenya and Africa is not one country - at least not yet.

I tried to have a sense of this when a student asked where Ghana was and I said “oh it’s a string of small islands that border the UK and Nigeria” and then she said oh yes I hear there are some nice islands out there and I hope to visit there one day – welcome to my Ghana island, “ignoranter”.

Then is the question, “where did you learn English from, do you speak English in Africa?” Sometimes I am tempted to ‘give it to them’ but often my tongue gets glued to my palate because it is just dumbfounding that such questions get asked not by the ordinary person on the street but by university students and it scares me what questions the ordinary person could be asking.

I got my hair braided and met someone who was all over me admiring it and asked if my hair “was done by the Africans”, oh yeah the Africans did my hair. I had heard this referral to Africa as one country so many times I decided to embark on a little class exercise so anytime there is an assignment that allows for free choice of topics, I choose one related to Ghana or Africa and since presentations are a must it offers me a good opportunity to educate the university “ignoranter”.

This week however I was discussing this with a classmate who is a typical American- brutally frank and honest- and he referred me to some Youtube videos which he felt would give me an appreciation of that statement I first heard during orientation. I do not intend in any way to popularize You tube, although I believe it already is, but so that you appreciate at first hand what my concerns are.

Surprising the knowledge level sometimes does not even extend to the same country in which they live.

I have provided the links to two videos and then you will be surprised to know that there are people who do not even know the religion of Buddhist monks, or that a country that starts with a U is Uthiopia (Ethiopia) or Utah, or that the United Kingdom currency is called Queen Elizabeth or how they can be quick to accept someone who poses as John Howard, Prime Minister of Australia and gets such phenomenal response you can begin to understand why 419 always gets some good victims. And the interesting thing is that these are not staged performances.

Click here to see video

This other link is interesting because it poses questions about Iraq and I am sure we may expect that having been in this war long enough Americans will necessarily be interested in what is happening aside the fact that they have troops in Iraq.

Click here to see video

One thing I keep asking myself is that why do we hold the American to such high expectations? For some reason we think the American is an all-in-all and so we spend all our time watching out for Obama or McCain and spending time listening to them debate each other but fail to hold our own politicians to the zillions of promises they keep making on the campaign trails.

In any case, are we still learning about world history in our schools? How much of our own history do we know as a people? The next time you meet an American and begin to ask all the questions about what is happening in Iraq ask yourself how much you know about your own country Ghana. That may be more helpful to you before the “ignoranter” disappoints you with how little they know about others.

‘Abrokyire’ Palaver: The Kalamazoo Station

Kalamazoo is one of the nice cities in Michigan with lots of ‘must see’ places. It has a special place in my heart for many reasons, unforgettably it is the place I learnt my first American lesson of asking any question no matter how dumb you think it is.

Well on this occasion I had gone to school to finalize my registration with the kind help of a friend who also took me home for a Ghanaian rice and stew treat by his wife.

So having been given such a good time and happy to have completed my processes to start school, I was given a ride to the Kalamazoo train station to catch a train to another part of Michigan where I was being hosted.

At the time the American English was nothing but a long hrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr running through my ears (still getting used to it) and having lost my geography sense in form three I did not know that Americans always knew that for any transport movement they were eastbound, westbound, northbound and southbound.

So the public address system at the station starts blaring with the announcement of the arrival of two trains one eastbound and the other westbound. Poor me, I could not hear the English and I felt too shy to ask so using my Kaneshie-Dansoman sense of navigation I looked on as one train finished boarding passengers and took off with people waving and blowing kisses. I was just admiring the ‘abrofo’ expression of love.

Then when it had left I knew that just as I would go the Nungua way if I was heading to the Ministries area, I walked and smiled at the train conductor and showed him my ticket. “Sorry mum, your train just took off, we are heading for the opposite direction”.

I almost wore my not-too-common self to demand a better response but this is America so I quietly and sadly went to the station, called my ‘rice and abom’ beneficiaries and spent the night with them but not before changing the ticket and drawing on the back the direction the train’s head will be facing.

Anyway so I became a regular visitor to the Kalamazoo station after that JJC experience since I still had interests to take care at the other side of town.

What kept tearing my heart apart was the sad picture of the effect of drugs (not paracetamol, the other one) on nice handsome guys, mothers and fathers.

Crack head is how they are called. They would normally gather at the station either trying to catch a nap or begging for money or transacting ‘business’.

Sometimes the picture it painted was so saddening that I would just sink my head in a book pretending to read so I did not have to look at what this drug thing had done and was doing to people.

Hearing about transactions for weed (which is what they call wee) was no more news. I felt particularly sad that some of the mothers had left their families to find ways of servicing their drug habits.

I made a friend, a 22-year-old tattooed guy who was such fun to be around and would always walk over and tell me how happy he was to see me at Kalamazoo. He would then go and hang out with his friends.

Whiles waiting for my train one night, a group of people just moved into my corner where I normally pitch my body and started discussing how two of their sons had gone to rob a store with one leaving a message for his mother that should he die she should know that he always loved her.

I could not take what I was hearing and moved away to another spot but in a matter of fifteen minutes my Kalamazoo friend came to ask if I left my corner because of his mother and her friends.

I was shocked- your mom? “Yes, she has always been like this and I cannot help it. I try to spend as much time as possible but she just cannot change”. We sat down and spoke and I thought he was not as bad after all, only a young man caught up in some form of ‘acceptable’ company because of his mother.

One day he saw me and shouted from one end, “hey, good to see you. I want to surprise you, what is your favourite colour- red or white?” I told him I did not mind but I did especially because I did not know what it meant. Was red and white a coded term for heroin and cocaine or what? Pessimist, but that is what Kalamazoo station was turning me into. Anyway I never got my gift, whatever it was, because I never went to the station again.

By the way did I tell you it was at this same station that I met two men who for me were more intelligent than some of my classmates who think Africa is one country and keep asking how come I speak English.

One of these guys asked where I came from and as soon as I mentioned Ghana, he said “oh your president is Mr. Kufuor, the AU chairman”. I was stunned because I had not heard anyone who knew much beyond what goes on in America.

The other was a crack head and had come to sit close to me mumbling gibberish. He wanted a dime (10 cents) but I offered him a bottle of flavored water instead and immediately he started thanking me and took out an empty bottle from his back and dumped it in the trash. He had run out of water. Anyway I was speaking with my friend Zopye back in Ghana and was telling him how this crack head had come to sit so close to me it was scaring me.

He looked at me and asked if I was from Ghana, I held my breath not sure if he heard what I said. I put the call on hold and asked him how he guessed and he told me he had Ghanaian friends in college and so he had picked the accent quite well.

Hmm impressive but I still feel guilty not sure if he overhead my little gossip in Twi or if he is Ghanaian. Well he did not sound like one but it is still pathetic that drugs had reduced him and many more people to beggars and peddlers at the Kalamazoo station.

“Abrokyire” Palaver: The American Mouse

Being in a foreign country has its own challenging and funny moments but it is a completely different ball game when you realize how people from different cultural backgrounds attempt to devise solutions to the simplest issues that have to be dealt with.

I woke up one night to use the bathroom and saw something running over the cooker in our American kitchen. A mouse? But I thought rodents were just an African thing- at least per our folks who travel to ‘abrokyire’ and come back to condemn everything that we have or ever did. And this was just a couple of months after I landed here to study so the weather was warm and nice- a good environment for mice to breed in. Anyway here came the real test for an apartment occupied by three ‘internationalese’- from Ghana, Kazakhstan and Kryzakstan.

The next morning I called my two roommates to figure out how to deal with this animal (as they called it). What I did not know was that they had seen it earlier and had tried finding some information about it.

One said oh I think this is a rat because I am told a mouse is white or grey and can only be found in laboratories. I laughed and handed her a dictionary to look up the definitions of a mouse and then a rat. That was also my own way of helping them deal with their English deficiencies.

The other one quickly called the landlady’s boyfriend who promised to get us some mouse traps. Yes the abundance of traps and all kinds of ‘killing agents’ in stores confirms that rodents and insects that fly by day and night can all be found here- even mosquitoes. You dare not leave your doors opened in the summer.

Well so here comes the traps and I am given strict instructions not to bait the mouse, and this I conveyed clearly to my roommates. In all we had five traps set up for this tiny creature which was having its own fun time at our apartment in the night.

All this while one of the roommates who had carved a profession in hiding her food in her closet and always wanting to ‘taste’ what I cook was apparently having a good time in her room, no in fact in her suitcase, which was loaded with pastries, chocolates, cheese and anything that could keep you indoors for a week. And that poor little mouse must have had a good time! Initially she did not show much enthusiasm about the mouse until she opened her suitcase in day time (gives you an idea when she was sneaking into that suitcase?) and saw that she had actually been sharing her prized food pantry with the mouse. That was when she decided to seek out the mouse and deal with it.

When I woke up that night (in case you are wondering I do ‘go’ every night because of my high fluid intake) there was something sticking on one of the traps. Hey we got it, I exclaimed and moved to switch on the light to catch a glimpse of this mouse which had succeeded in setting three female students on a hunting expedition but to my utter disappointment I only found a piece of chocolate on one trap and a piece of cheese on another. Who could ever use chocolate and cheese to bait a mouse? Apparently the “most affected” believed that since it had done such a good job in her suitcase it will be a good way to catch it but unfortunately not with that smart mouse. I guess it decided to look for alternative feeding sources in the apartment.

We stayed the whole Summer unable to catch the American mouse but I am sure the Winter took care of it somehow. So I told my roommates, “next time you want to catch a mouse ask the African- no chocolates, no cheese- I will hand over to you a piece of dead meat the following morning”.

As for my other beloved room mate who did not know how to differentiate between a rat and a mouse, she left it to the third room mate to deal with since she had more to lose than any of us.