Folks, what my eyes saw inside the disco, my mouth or finger cannot tell all, so I will go ahead and explain some of them. My friends and I always have the audacity to criticize some American ladies for having loose morals. Some Ghanaian ladies have surpassed their American counterparts! The first ?cultural over learn? shock I experienced was the dress that some of these ladies had on. They might as well have been naked. To make matters worse, some of these ladies had legs that are zigzag in movement. Others have legs as skinny as a trimmed broomstick. In my world-and I may be wrong-you expose or reinforce what is of great value to you, not the ugly aspect.
The music was very loud and good, and people were having a lot of fun. More fun than the economic reality of our dear nation may depict. As if on cue, a clique of girls started scouting and dancing around our table. D was in heaven. He whispered to me that the room had some of the best ?booties? he had laid eyes on in the world. One remarkable thing though. The DJ did not play a single ?foreign? music. Our new stars, the Hip Lifers had their talents put into full use. I really liked that. One music in particular, the controversial ?Tuobodom?, got me off my feet. I may feel old, but I have the moves. Yes I do. My three years of dance technique and subsequent dance lessons at the School of Performing Arts got aroused. I hit the floor with Lydia, who pretended to be shy at first. Boy, was I wrong. That girl can dance! Other dancers gave way for us, and we created a very great and pleasant spectacle. I still have what it takes!
After that dance, we sat down. The next five songs were those that a tipsy party person will simulate every profane and sexual inhibition within his/her soul. That was exactly what happened. Guys ?smooched? ladies like their lives depended on them, and others engaged in acrobatic endeavors that will make your head spin. One couple in particular had my eyes. They wiggled their waists as if they had no bones in their bodies. Sweat, and the smell of armpits, diluted with the stench of cigarettes and liquor filled the air. Though the AC was supposed to be on, people were drenched all over in sweat. Two ladies at the club decided to practice their dance pieces in front of our table. Lydia squeezed my hand and told me that those two are selling, and have targeted the males in our group. We should be very careful with those girls. I said thanks. Akwasi and D left the table to go to the car. Their mission was to get some booze. The rest of us stayed put in order to maintain our table. Then the DJ made this announcement:
?We are in the mood of love, so everybody, ON THE FLOOR!?
People ran from their seats to the dance floor. I was wondering what was going on until the song blurred out. I can?t sing the song outright, but the core of the music is that rainfall is imminent and because of that there is going to be some serious love making tonight. You should have seen the ?Apuskeleke? ladies on the floor. There was no holds barred, and party goers introduced their sexual manifestations on me.
Who says Ghana is Hard? Not to these people on the dance floor.
When it was my turn to go to the BYOB, a manager of the club informed that the owner wanted to see me. I went to his ?office? where we exchanged pleasantries and talked a little bit about the old days, then I excused myself, went to where the car was parked, got a little bit tipsy, and brought back to the club the present my younger brother had given me to give to the owner. I have never seen a man, a well do to Ghanaian club owner, so appreciative and so pleased about a gift of T-shirts and baseball cups. He went on to lecture me about how he and my brother worked hard together as a team to make Caf? one of the best clubs in the KSI. He ordered one of his employees to serve my crew and I all we needed. The Guinness and other agents of ?Sodom and Gomorrah? started coming our table. I saw that our designated driver, Akwasi was getting more into his system. I appointed myself the driver. With just a bottle of Guinness, mixed with Coca Cola, my brain was in a better cognitive shape than the rest. D kept on downing tot upon tot of Cognac until he became even more of an extrovert. Suddenly, he did not have any ?shame? and wanted to dance to every tune. He still danced even when there was no music. His victim was the one and only Ama who seems to be pretty much attached to him.
There was a posse right across from our table. These guys and gals had a lot of drinks on the table. Even in this crowded and noisy environ, one could hear their conversation every now and then. Their topic of discussion was armed robbery and the recent spate of gang activity in and around Kumasi. To them, the government is not doing enough to protect the law abiding citizens, and the crooks and the criminals are having a field day. They work hard all day to make their money only to be taken away from them. Some even end up losing their lives.
One faction of the group blamed the influx of Nigerians, Liberians, and other citizens of the West African sub-region into Ghana for the rampant day light and night robberies while others put the blame at the door steps of deviant and recalcitrant Ghanaians.
According to this school of thought, it is the Ghanaian thieves who have teamed up with the others to show them the ropes. The stealing industry has developed to the point where the culprits are willing and able to kill their victims. The blame game started to go around.
Some blamed Rawlings for not searching the Liberians when his government agreed to allow them in Ghana. Some of these Liberians came to Ghana with guns and ammunition. Others say the now defunct CDR gave their members guns and ammo, but when NPP came into power, they did nothing about it to collect all these guns. Now, those in possession of these weapons are causing havoc to the detriment of all and sundry. All factions agreed that the Kumasi magazine is a haven of cheap but deadly guns where even an infant who is just three months old could easily lay hands on. This does not however sway their celebratory mood though. They kept on calling for more liquor and alcoholic beverages.
After about 3:00 AM, I had had enough. The party goers seem never to tire, but I knew I had to call it quits. We left the club and headed for the car. One thing that is very conspicuous is the number of taxis that have lined up on both sides of the tiny road. These cabbies know how to conduct business. They know where and how to get an already made clientele, and were willing to sacrifice a little sleep to make money. I liked the effort these hardworking people were putting in. The sad reality is that most of them will never attain their dreams to have a better life because our country has unfortunately been plagued by insensitive, corrupt, and idiotic leaders who always care most about ruling and staying in power. Our leaders must be held accountable and spend sleepless nights to make the country better. They opted to be of legislative and policy making ilk. They must be compelled to give positive results and accounts of their deeds, just like supporters always demand the dismissal of a head coach when the team does not deliver. This is my opinion. I welcome yours.
We headed towards the car which was parked at a relatively darker area. As soon as we got near it, two guys appeared out of nowhere and asked if we would like to sell the car. They explained to me that they already owned three cars, two of them are Toyota Camrys and the other is a Geo Prizm. They like the American cars because of the AC, and the comfort it provides for them and their customers. They charge fifty dollars a day to rent a Camry, and forty five to rent out a Prizm. They would really like to own an additional Camry, and that is why they had waited so long to ask if the owner would sell. I told them I may sell the car, but after my stay in Ghana was almost over. We exchanged numbers and parted ways. The car rental business, like any other business, is booming in Ghana. There are names like Hertz, but numerous small scale entrepreneurs have sprung up and these people charge in dollars. Globalization has not left Ghana behind at all. I really admire the businesslike spirit of those who are trying to make it to the business plateau. These guys and gals are working hard and living good. Really really good. A case in point. You remember Lydia? Her house is closer to the Caf? than mine. Since armed robbers have virtually taken over the city, and she lives in the part of town where there is armed security, she suggested that we all spend the night in her house. This is a lady of thirty two years old, who owns a store and ply the lucrative Ghana-Dubai route. Her house is very magnificent, and she made her fortune without leaving the borders of Ghana. For security reasons, and also to protect the innocent and the not-so-innocent, I have decided to skip where Lydia lives and what went on in that huge mansion of hers. I will however say that some people really enjoyed themselves. Even to the brink of orgasmic demise.
The next day, I went home to meet my mother who had just returned from my hometown after attending a funeral. We sat down and talked and discussed things of importance and not-so-of-importance. I did a lot of rounds, and decided to get back to Accra the next day. There was news all over the radio, T.V, and newspapers about the brave and patriotic policewoman, who thwarted and actually foiled the operation of some hideous, good for nothing armed robbers. This lady put her life on the line to retrieve the looted property and money of traders and passengers on the Kumasi-Tamale road. Her reward, a one step promotion. As far as I am concerned, she should be promoted to the Regional police commander. Also, I think if the government and the police are overwhelmed with these ragamuffins, the people should organize themselves and make sure that for every car on our roads, there are at least three guns in it.
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