RELEASE: Wear your Hijab as Nurses: it’s the Nightingale Way, it’s your Religious Right!!

PRESS STATEMENT: TO ALL MEDIA HOUSES19th June, 2019
Islamic Medical Association of Ghana (IMAGH)Chapter 5, Article 21(1) C of the 1992 Constitution of The Republic of Ghana states “All persons shall have the right to freedom to practice any religion and to manifest such practice”. The practice of Muslim female nurses being forced to remove their veils in various government and private health facilities in Ghana is a gross infringement of religious right enshrined in Ghana’s constitution and international human right charters.In February 2015, about four years ago, the Ministry of Health issued a clear directives to all Health Institutions and training schools to allow Muslim female nurses to wear their Hijab. The directives further stated amongst other things that “The Ministry of Health wishes to inform all heads of institutions in the health sector that it is a sign of religious intolerance as well as a breach of the 1992 constitution of the Republic of Ghana for Muslims female nurses to be forced to take off their hijabs and traditional scarves worn by Muslim women to cover their hair and neck and sometimes their faces to work and school. The Nursing and Midwifery Council (NMC) also called for strict compliance to above directives in its 2nd March 2015 letter to all health institutions.Notwithstanding, the practice continues and in recent times we have witnessed gross discrimination and punishment such as demotion of rank, intimidation, refusal to approve posting, dismissal and verbal abuse meted out to Muslim female nurses simply for wearing hijabs leading to avoidable tensions within the general Ghanaian communities. Islamic Medical Association of Ghana (IMAGH) as the Mouthpiece of all Muslim Health professionals in Ghana strongly condemns these gross violations of the constitution and the clear disregard for professional directives from the Ministry of health, Ghana Health Service and Nursing and Midwifery council allowing Muslim female nurses to wear their the Hijab.We will like to commend the NMC, Ministry of Health, Ghana Health Service, various civil society organizations, media as well as the Ministry of Inner-cities and Zongo Development and well-meaning Ghanaians that have condemned the growing intolerance against Muslim female nurses. IMAGH will continue to engage all stakeholders towards finding a sustainable and amicable solutions based on dialogue and consultations. At the same time, we shall strongly defend the right of all Muslim female nurses in this country through constitutional means to seek redress against any institutions or persons that seek to discriminate against the Muslim female nurses.As the mouth of piece of all Muslim Health professionals in Ghana, we urge all Muslim female nurses to go ahead and put on a simple plain white veil beautifully tucked in their uniforms. A lot of female Muslim nurses have been discriminated in the health sector because of their hijab and it is clear that discrimination is not only a civil and human right offence but also a harmful mental influence on the health of the Muslim female nursesThe rationale behind the unfortunate discrimination of Muslim female nurses in the use of hijab being the Hijab will be a source of transmitting infections is unfounded. IMAGH as a professional health association understands the importance of infection prevention and will not countenance anything that will compromise any international standards. However, the assertion above is a mere opinion and perception without any proper scientific and empirical bases. At best we see it as a subtle attempt to hide intolerance and discrimination against Muslim female nurses, because catholic nursing nuns are freely allowed to wear their veils, rosary with uniforms extended below their knees.Most significantly, head covering, hijab, has been a part of the Nursing Uniform from the inception of the profession for sanitary reason and modesty as practiced by Florence Nightingale, etc. and any attempt to deny the wearing of it now is rather an aberration from the fact of history. The deaconess and early nurses also had full length covering dress, simple long sleeves, and with their head completely covered to conceal and cover their hair for sanitary purposes. Hair covering protected wearer’s long hair, pulled tightly into a high knot and hidden under the veil or nurse cap, avoiding dangling hair from catching unwanted pathogens.With time, the veil is being replaced by the cap and as time went on, hairstyles changed and nurses’ caps changed with them. Rather than covering most of the hair, the newer, stylized caps were designed to perch on the back of the head. In 1877, a probationer wrote that she and her fellow students wore caps, or no caps, as they liked, and when worn, were of any description. By 1942 in London, the long sleeves, were cut short largely due to the clothing material shortage during the World War II, the nursing uniforms were also noticeably shorter than their ancestors. In the U.S, the garment industry was controlled by the federal government, and all others supported such approach and made sacrifices, including the nurses who were also serving America alongside the country’s soldiers. By 1943 nurses duty uniform features a cut that was common in most of women’s garments in World War I. The hemline falls just below the knee, and the sleeves were much shorter than those of the previous nursing uniforms.In the 1960‘s nurses became in charge of what they wore, and they designed their medical outfits in shapes and lengths that were more preferred by them not considering the requirements of the medical sector. Wearing the nurses cap they left their hair swinging loosely hence increasing the chances of contamination and infection transfer. The sharp contrasts between uniforms worn by nurses today and earlier nurses were purely due to modernity and fashion and shortage of resources and has nothing to do with infection prevention.Accepted standard practice and policies of infection prevention promotes covering as a barrier as opposed to exposure and that’s why the use of Personal Protection equipment such as hand gloves, aprons, long sleeved gowns, caps/complete hair covering, surgical masks, eye goggles, face visors and respirator masks are highly encouraged where risks of infections are high. Thus the Hijab rather than spreading Infections, will aid infection prevention and contamination of the nurses hair.SingedContact: 0243537112 / 0244423399 / 0242755537Email: infoimagh@gmail.com

EQUALITY OR EQUITY?

I visited the office to draft my business plan yesterday. There were six of us, five males and myself. I was really engulfed in what I was doing so much that I didn’t know when Abdallah and Raba went out. I paused my work, got down to pray and came back to continue. Just then the two came in with black polythene. I helped myself to get a sheet from the printer and that was when Abdallah handed me a plate to have it rinsed. Initially I was confused because I was absent-minded. I asked playfully “Should I throw this away?” We all chuckled. There I knew they brought food. I went downstairs and had the plate rinsed and took it back. We all ate. After I took the plate downstairs again to wash it!

While I was getting down, a thought ran through my head. “We were four people who ate and I am the one to go down again to wash the plate despite being the same person who rinsed it.” I pondered over this and came to a conclusion that I haven’t demean myself in anyway by taking that action on two bases being; I wasn’t the person who went to get the food neither was my money used to buy the dish! In other words it’s only courteous that I did what I’ve done to put in my contribution in getting our own selves satisfy our hunger.
The guys have done their part without me being aware. One thing for sure is I can’t tell whether they expected that I wash the plate afterwards but what difference will it have made even if they did? I generally do not go about the rants of feminists. I address situations based on the factors on which they occur. More often than not people’s argument about who is supposed to do what when it comes to role of men and women are fallacious.
If both of you are working, it’s only logical that you share responsibilities including paying of utility bills! Maybe then we can have some sanity.

Charity Begins At Home

I do not intend to write much. I read from an online friend who I paraphrased saying when a man was a boy, his parents instructed him to beat his younger sister to prove to her that he was in charge. Right at this stage the boy has been taught how to abuse a woman. This behaviour is very common in our homes, especially Zongo. Agreed or not he somehow grows up to hit women when they wrong him. Isn’t he supposed to show his manpower? Although sparing the rod may spoil the child, how many times do elders speak to the younger ones first? Especially when it comes to the feminine? What’s the point here? Women are naturally tender, physically weak and easily hurt. Talking to them will be the best approach not physically abusing them.
There are men who abuse their mothers. To talk of abuse of wives,fiances, and girlfriends is like salted fish in the market. When a man abuses a woman and realizes he is wanted, he goes into hiding. And people in the community or family even help to hide him well. They help him escape the law. What happens after? He apologises. Then the matter is solved. He goes freely. That is fine because forgiveness is an act of the strong. Few months again, he may commit the same thing with the another woman or the same probably. So a young lad who had observed this barbaric act loses his temper on a lady and administers what he had witnessed from the latter on this lady. He is sure he’d been forgiven after he’s gone into hiding and renders an apology. Case closed. Such is the trend in our communities now. This problem never gets solved because you’d be amazed to come to the of knowledge how culprits and victims are related from an afar lineage. So it always becomes a family affair. Okay Cheers!
For how long will the community as a whole encourage this action by pardoning culprits? Someone needs to be taught lessons and manners to serve as an example to others. Whether a culprit is punished or pardoned, it doesnt change the fact that the victim has been abused.
‘Fight between two women or men is considered as fight among equals,’ a friend said. And I agree! That attracts little or no attention at all as compared to a man and the opposite sex. Though there are rare cases where some women physically abuse men(which in most cases we laugh at because we feel it’s unnatural), yet it is disheartening to see a man do that to a woman. Some lose their lives from this abuse. It’s about time this ‘macho’ lifestyle ends on women. You want to show your prowess, kindly book a match with a boxer or wrestler. The Bukom Arena is always open. Keep off women!

The Pierce

Exactly a week into her second home, she had her nose pierced. Not by her will but that of her ‘lord’. This was in a bid to please him because he admired his found rib more by a pierced nose. The pain was sharp but not a single blood dropped. Her nose became heavy. Another chapter has been opened in her life. She has to live with the nose ring for her lifetime. Whether she takes it off or not, the hole will still be there.
Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. The wound was not healing as fast as she thought it would. One day, the pain was gone, another day it returned with the slightest irritation.  She thought of taking the ring out to seal the hole. Just then an inner voice whispered , ‘don’t! wait till it completely heals. After all, you’ve borne the pains for months. Very soon you shan’t feel it anymore”.
Many are those in her shoes who go through trials, challenges and difficulties caused by others. Within the shortest period of time, these problems pile up as though they were planned. These pains are sharp. They pierce through the heart more than the dagger. It is extremely painful when you have no one to help you out. They may extend to only God knows when. The pains come and go. Sometimes they stay. Other times you may think all are gone, just then boom! Series of them knock at the door.
In the initial stage, you try to encourage yourself. You will face them. But with time, the giving up option pops on your mind. As soon as this comes, know for sure you are closer to being separated from those worries. The tougher they become, chances are that the end is approaching.
We all know the cliché “patience moves mountains”, “patience is a virtue” including the local saying “he who is patient boils stones and drinks its soup”. The issue at hand is not being patient but how to be patient. How can one attain this virtue?
Yes it is hard to wait and even more complex if you are clueless.
The most difficult creature among creation is man. It is amazing how a person would subject his fellow into an unfortunate condition. This mostly happens when the victim is vulnerable. Most of the time we are agonised by the simplest things. You may see a possible solution but then no one is willing to listen to you. A barking dog is not a crazy one. It has seen a stranger or an unusual creature probably. But most often than not we don’t wait to figure out what is making it bark so loud, rather we throw stones at it. With the consideration that it’s causing noise pollution.
If only we could reflect and listen to the cries of each other, try as much as we can to empathise with one another, work together towards achieving a solution, imagine what a place the world would be. Melancholy, we choose to be stone-hearted and egoistic- leaving our colleagues between rocks and hard places.
When they complain, we tag them as impatient beings. They try to find ways out of it, we label them with all sort of names. Dragging their image through the mud. With fingers pointed at them, what is forgotten is that the rest of the four fingers point back at us.
Yes, they may lack patience but we are four times impatient than they ever are!
Only they know what their agony is. Only they can tell. We all have our limit of patience. What A can forbear, B cannot and vice versa. If C was able to walk under the scorching sun, D could walk through the rain. That’s just the way it is.
Stop settling for less. But how do you accomplish that if you don’t know your value?
If it’s robbing you of your life, happiness, future or whatever it may be, quit! Don’t endure the pain way longer before you quit whoever or whatever that has put you in such dilema. Tomorrow is too bright! Desist from what others will say. “Let them say, so they are”
It’s their portion to be saying things of and about others. Whether good or bad.

The farmer in G.I.J!

WHY I WENT TO G.I.J?
Mr. Daniel Biyie, my English and Social studies teacher, at Junior High School believed I was good at both subjects. By the window he stood a day afer marking our examination papers, and said, “you can go to G.I.J after senior high school”.
I frankly had no idea of what I wanted to become or do as at JHS 3. I, perhaps, was just a schoolgoer. So when he mentioned the school of journalism, I thought I’d to study the arts. Three years down the line I completed Armed Forces Senior High Technical School. I got admission into the premier communication school.
This was where I got enough water to wet my brains. In the beginning I thought of becoming a fine broadcaster but nay! I rated people in media as probably the 3rd richest after two other professions. It was childish. Only God knows what their peanut of a pay may be. Nevertheless it’s a noble profession.
First semester, I had eight courses to study; only one caught my mind. “principles of marketing” I loved it at heart. It wasn’t a core course. I wanted to become a farmer while I was reading it! Indeed! “you’re weird” I was said to.
But I felt absolute normality. I didn’t see anything wrong with wanting to start a farm after reading communication skills. It’s what I want to do. It’s passion. I’ll pursue it. Afterall there’re dozens of media practitioners with medical and engineering backgrounds. Let me allow myself some fresh air and think well.
Time flew fast. The second semester probed its nose and again I’d eight courses to read. There I found what I called sister subject of principles of marketing: marketing management. Lo! it solidified the love I’d for farming. I saw how in the next five to ten years, my farm will turn into an employment hub.
HAK farms and company limited will have manufacturing industries which will turn primary product like cattle into beef, and milk. Eggs, gizzard, sausage from poultry. Other products may include maize, tomatoes, coconut just to mention few.
An available slaugher house will in one sharp corner stand on the farm. Cornered fish and makerel from the fishes. Journalism indeed! This is just the tip of an iceberg. I can’t say all because I’m yet to offer my top up. When I’m done with it, I pledge to finish this.
And yes I’m going back to the institute of journalism, but what do I major in?

 

 

NOODLES WITH ASSORTED MEAT AND VEGETABLE: The Experience

English they say is dynamic. From my part of the world, I wouldn’t dare wine or dine in a much more “classic” restaurant. It’s not to say I cannot do that but judging from my financial situation now, I’d rather buy my waakye from Auntie Merie’s crooked table across the next street down the lane. Afterwards I will just get 20 pesewas special ice sachet water to push down the remaining particles from my throat. What I’m I talking about? Yes I received an invitation to attend a workshop in Kumasi which after a careful thought I honored.  Since it was an invitation, I assumed he who invited me will take care of my expenses.  Moreover he is white-skinned so I need not to worry. After all what is cedi to a dollar man? I thought and smiled.

“Hello Kandey, I talked to Frank about you coming with us to Kumasi. So he’s making reservations for you as well” he said to me over the phone. So need I still ask him if I’m supposed to take care of my expenses? Well I didn’t ask to go with them. He invited me! So he should.

I was really excited because I’m that type with itchy feet. The last time I went to Kumasi I was in character for One Ghana Production. I can’t remember the exact town we performed at but it was exciting.

After four hours of driving, we got to Adum at ‘2 pm. There were five of us. The driver, Frank and his secretary, Naa, the inviter and myself. We lodged at the Kumasi Catering Rest House. It has a quite serene environment.  Good enough for the middle upper class. I was shown room 14.

“That’s for you” frank said to me. I brimmed with light of joy. I couldn’t help but to say ‘thank you’ silently.

I stood under a mango tree enjoying its shade and I got interrupted. Although I can’t wholly remember what I heard but I understood it as I’m paying for the room that I’ve  been shown. A night in a single bedroom costs 160 cedis. “What arrangement have I made? He calmly questioned. “Naamutu!” I exclaimed inwardly. With my face like gathered clouds ready to unleash a dread storm “well I..I..I…didn’t know I’ve to take cost of my stay here. Moreover I don’t have any money with me” I stammered.

“So what are you going to do?” he asked. “I..I..I’ve to make a call” still stammering.

“Silly girl who are you going to call? “ A voice quietly asked me. If I had forcefully vocal an alphabet at that moment, Ghana would’ve discovered River Densu, the second. “Look at me and talk” he said looking at my heavy face. I raised my head but I failed to look straight. My face dropped.

As if that was not enough he continued. “You’ve only one option. To save cost, I’ll reserve a doubled bed for you and I or you’ll pay for single bed alone. What do you say?”

I shook my head in disbelieve and said no. Meanwhile the money I had was just 20 cedis. The last money I cashed from my mobile money wallet the night before. “Is this what I’m going to make payments with?” I soliloquy. The next minute I was talking to Waqil in Hausa. “Hello Waqil, I’m really stacked. I told you where I was going right? Yes there is a problem…”  I ended the call slowly and melancholy. Anyway I tried before dying. I became heavier. I lost all excitements and my dearer smiles. I didn’t know who else to reach again. I scrolled my contacts list and realized how helpless I was.

It was lunch time. Frank, who is a mental health nurse, came with Naa and asked if I had checked my room. I only nodded. “Well there is a change of plan, Kandey. You will stay with Naa in the doubled bedroom” he stated excitedly.

“Allahu Aqbar!” my inviter shouted. His name is Waheed. “Allah is so good. You’re saved”

All of a sudden I felt like gnashing him but I tried and put on a smile which undoubtedly was weak. My spirit broke for many reasons. I was choked in thoughts.

We sat ourselves at the restaurant. The waiting man brought five menu booklets and placed it in front of each one of us. “No I’m definitely not going to touch this book no matter what. In fact I cease to be hungry. I can’t buy any of these foods not even red red.” With my arms folded I looked straight and became reserved.

“What would you want” the waiting man asked me. That was when I realized everyone was waiting for me to make my order for us to be served together. I smiled and shook my skull. Frank thought I don’t know what to eat so he joked if he should chose for me. I told him I was okay. Everyone cracked.  Obviously Frank didn’t know what went on hours ago between Waheed and I.  Ah well, finally I voiced loudly inertly “noodles”. I love noodles. The next person sitting to me heard what I said as if I was being strangled.

“Which noodles do you want? Spaghetti, noodles with chicken or beef, noodles with assorted meat and vegetables” queried the waiter.

“Noodles with assorted meat and vegetables” it sounds good to my hearing. I believed it’ll taste better than every noodle I’ve ever tasted. I thought so I chose.

Three minutes the others’ food came and after 10 my assorted meat and vegetables was ready. I starred at the food for some time and I came to know the difference between “invitations and invitations” if a white says to you ‘ I invite you’ please don’t just smile and widen your arms in acceptance. Ask him or her anyebiyaa what kind is it, the free or the priced one.

Eventually Waheed paid for everyone’s lunch and I got to sleep in the doubled bedroom, ALONE.

Don’t ask me how because I’m still wondering how myself.

 

The lost essence of polygamy

She sat on the stool with her cheek supported by her hand. “I don’t want to marry Wali. He already has a wife”. Mukarama said. As Muslims marrying more than one is legal but to the lame woman it’s a gigantic issue. “He’s the one you will marry whether you like it or yes” said auntie Memuna. In their time a woman marries whom her family deems right for her and she accepts. Amongst his friends, he was the one with the least wage. But they each kept a wife. Could that be Saeeda’s reason for disobeying Wali? That he receives peanut of a wage?
In fact he so wants to marry Mukarama because of the horrendous ways of Saeeda. In an average hand basin were three pieces of cloth with veils to complete a combination. With a fair amount of dowry the knot was tied.
Show me a person who is pampered more than a newly wedded wife and I will teach you how to collect spilt milk. The two women stayed in separate houses. Mukarama sets fire at Saeeda’s house to prepare meal even when it’s not her turn to. She leaves her home at dawn to Saeeda’s place and returns at dusk. Mukarama is responsible for Saeeda’s housekeeping. She babysits saeeda’s children.
Mukarama’s up keep money is given to Saeeda by their husband. What will happen if he gives it to Mukarama directly? She always begins her morning on an empty stomach till noon when she’s done with her ‘house helping’. Saeeda ,the lady in charge,then hands over the money to her reluctantly as if it were coming from her pocket. ‘This is yours’ she will say to Mukarama through her nostrils. Many times when the wife cum maid servant goes about her duties, “our lady” finds herself a place under the mango tree then position herself in the middle of two friends. They chat and she giggles the loudest in mockery of Mukarama. She would occasionally give her(Mukarama) a cockish look.
Wali scolds and yells at Mukarama for complaints given to him by Saeeda. She’s given no chance to have her say. But what kind of a lady would so much envy her maid servant? “I am sick and tired of this marriage. I am your wife not a servant to you and your wife. I want to believe you didn’t marry me for her right? ” Mukarama cried. She neglects her work and sometimes her children just to attend to her lady per Wali’s instructions. “You do as I say. I’m the man and not you” he aguishly said
Down to this century Mukarama is still Wali’s wife and so is Saeeda. Saeeda escaped to Nigeria leaving her four children behind. And of course Wali put them under the care of Mukarama. So together with her four step children they lived. She was not biased. She took care of them as if they were her own. Wali carefully supported his elder wife’s children anytime they had a grudge with Mukarama’s brood. Whether they are at fault or not he’s always in support of them.
He retires from work and he had saved not even a penny. He leaves on Mukarama’s income from her petty trade. She had become the man suddenly. He was not able to give his children any proper education. Not even Islamic education. He would often say to Mukarama “it’s of their benefit if they go to school not mine”. So he never attended any Parents and Teachers Association meetings. The children played truant and ended up carrying loads in the market for traders so that they’d be given some little money, Again when he found out, he stopped giving them the money for their upkeep. And that made the boys abandoned school totally. Mukarama could not fight the battle of educating her children and that of Saeeda’s alone. Wali was absolutely ignorant and myopic.
Saeeda comes back from Nigeria and could not find a place to stay. It had to take interventions for her first child, Ali, to agree to give his mother one of the numerous rooms in his house to lay her head. The house he won from a lottery. Wali was being ejected from the house where he stayed with mukarama. In a very small room made of iron Mukarama stayed by wali’s side for almost half a century despite his biases.
Upon hearing his parents were about to be ejected, he left where he had rented and goes back to sleeping in the cold. Jabal Mukarama’s second son. Until madina turned 15, she had always known her mother, mukarama, to be married only to her father. For 21 years Wali and Saeeda have not shared any marital relationship. He does not visit her like he’s ought to. Clinging onto Mukarama yet hold up to Saeeda’s affairs.

 

Kandey Alhassan on “Chief Imam, We are sorry”

Abdul-Rahim Naa Ninche thank you for helping us render an unqualified apology. Indeed we have errd. For being a leader is not an easy task.You carry everyone’s weight. It is never right to abuse your fellow brother or sister in any form whatsover. I always but knew his eminence to have been on the wrong path when it comes to eidul-fitr day declarations until I read your piece. This is because I believe in calling the spade a spade.

Your article contains much sense and sensitivity yes. Therefore it’s natural to get backlashed. I do not write to disagree with you but to add up a view. It might be insubstantial but I believe it’s important. Some might share in it others may not. Just like Abdul Rahim, I am not a scholar nor any source of authority. I am but just a muslimah also putting in efforts to adhere to the fitra upon which Allah has created mankind.

I do not want to write so much and end up saying nothing. I grew up in a Tareeqatul Tijaniya home. We have always prayed on the day the national chief imam observed the Eid prayers with no complaints. But as I grew I got more enlightened on how the eid was supposed to be done. So I chose what I believed to be right. To cut the long story short, I want to lay down my view.

My colleague in writing said a letter has to be sent to the government weeks before a holiday is declared. His words were ” Per information available to me, this notice must be done in writing and sent to the presidency before about two weeks to the actual date. Determining the date for the Eid-Ul Adha was not so much of a big deal but Eid-ul Fitr was. Whether or not Ramadan will be twenty nine or thirty depended on sighting the moon on the twenty ninth day. It will be impossible to tell government to grant us a holiday the twenty ninth day of Ramadan should the moon be sighted. Government will then have to prepare a communiqué to all government agencies during that night which is impossible.”

Then since ramadan could be 29 or 30 days depending on the lunar, why don’t the office of the chief imam propose for a day after the 30th day? So that we go according to the teachings of the prophet. If it happens to be 30, the next day we pray and still have the holiday that same day. If it happens to be 29, we pray on the supposed 30th day which is the first of Shawal and still have our holiday the next morning. Unless things are done at the convinience of some people. This is religion. It does not belong  to us. We ought to follow the commandments of Allah and teachings of prophet  Muhammad (S.A.W) and have a cohere worship. Let’s not forget that one day we would be assembled for account. May Allah forgive us our known and unknown tresspasses. Aami

Again we are sorry

 

Our Hope In A Bleak Future

Because of how high Issifu went on it that day, he was at 100 metres speed right in the grip of the officer who got hold of him.

Issifu, Jojo and Freeman were close friends. They played football together. He was that brilliant but easy to be convinced chap who it wouldn’t take him a minute to catch grimes of whatever is being taught.

Jojo the truant, before he gets to class, he’s all worked up and ends up sleeping throughout the lessons and of course takes no nonsense. Freeman, the hard and ‘I don’t care guy’, breaks rules and claims they are meant to be broken. “After all I’m Freeman and it’s a free world” he often says. Issifu was the middleman for Jojo and Freeman.

The trio were doing just great until Mr Hard guy got himself into the deep shit that led them into sniffing and burning of their lungs.

Despite the ruthlessness of Freeman, he wouldn’t dare look at Don Bozman’s shadow not to talk of his face.

Don Bozman, thick in stature and dark-tan complexion is a wanted drug cartel.

He’s built empires out of this deadly business. Inside his compound is like a car park with the mansion about 5kilometres away from where his cars are parked.

Teachers of the St. Barabbas Senior High School were fed up and Freeman was dismissed.

Angered by the sudden turn out of situation, he was asked to take responsibility for himself. As hard as he thought of himself, he went into the streets. There he met Salisu and they became good friends for they shared a common behaviour and story.

It all started with hashish… “Oh kai take this its only flavours and nothing more” Salisu said to Freeman at a friend’s birthday party organised at Labadi Beach.

From the hashish he was promoted to marijuana and all sorts of baby cough syrups amalgamated with energy drinks. He made all his passes and got admission to university of white powder where he became an expert in the sniffing course.  Blow some powder into the air and Freeman will not miss any falling particle.

“Issifu my guy how have you been? It’s been long since I’ve seen you” Freeman shouted in his breaking voice. He looked so fine. “I’ve been around Freeman how you are too? Guy you look nice. What have you been up to since you were dismissed?”Issifu asked

“Business and it’s so good. Tell me since you completed how much have you made?” laughing hectically and calls Issifu “john”

Issifu smiled and said he had no job after completion although his grades were good yet his parents couldn’t sponsor him to further his education. “Introduce me to this your business err… I need money to go back to school”. He said

Freeman smiled and asked Issifu to follow him.

They got to one of Don Bozman’s mansion and seated in a sharp corner was Jojo busily wrapping powder and marijuana.

Issifu was surprised. Immediately he understood what Freeman’s business was. You can’t leave here without accepting to sell junks. The moment your feet touches this compound you are in for good! Don Bozman is a nice person. Don’t try his patience and put your life and mine at stake.

It appears that Jojo went to Freeman for help and he was introduced to the killer trade.

Two years later Issifu has been disfigured by the hallucinogens more than Freeman and Jojo who were already in it. He’s made it his three square meals. He eats marijuana, drinks caffeine mixed with syrups and even baths with it.

He could smoke and sniff as suhoor and do same for iftaar during Ramadan. Because cocaine is dear, he is careful so it doesn’t finish early.

In any case he passes you by; you’d be wondering if he’s going north or south.

One unfaithful afternoon the three friends met at their usual base behind BA primary school to smoke their sorrows away.

As they flare up, like a serpent the police crept into the yard. Freeman and Jojo were not very high that day. They absconded leaving Issifu in the grasp of the officer having a still-run. Issifu was later admitted to the hospital suffering from lung cancer and kidney failure.

Jojo went nuts six months after. Freeman was later arrested which led to Don Bozman and others’ apprehension.

Welcome to Nima

Welcome to Nima! I’m sure you’ll enjoy your ride through this town! But hey before you do so; make sure you pick an acquaintance with you.

It’s undoubtedly one of the busiest towns in Accra, brimming with a light and love that enthralls and capture even the hardest of hearts. It’s harmoniously engaging in virtually every aspect of its life.

As human as we are, we differ respectively in many ways. Religion, tribe, clan, language, complexion and most importantly character.

Nima is a town of benevolence and hospitality. It is not hospitable to its neighbors

only but to guests and visitors irrespective of how remote they may be.

An instance finds expression in the fate of a young Nigerian man who sojourned to “Nimaland” to make ends meet. He was fortunate enough to find a job.

However the job was tedious and he began wearing off. The people in the house in which he lodged began to show concern.

They thought because he had no family in Nima and was all alone, they gave him the utmost care they could to make sure he gets well in order to find another better

job.

They provided him meals and medication. Another privilege he enjoyed was the fact that he did not pay for lodging. Such is the beauty of the inhabitants of Nima.

When I was in senior high school at Armed Forces in Burma Camp, if not most,

some of the brilliant students were from Nima.

I solely cannot remember the full names of these Nimarian Armed Forces students but the school saw the likes of Faisal Alhassan who was a Science student from 2012 class, Abdallah Yussif(2010) and Tinjani(2011) both from the Technical class, Abdul Karim, from Visual Arts(2011)and the list goes on. These guys were tranquil. If they don’t tell you “I’m from Nima” there is no way you are going to figure out. And even if they

did, you still would not believe.

To make things easier, Hawawu Ahmed, my school prefect was from Nima. I could not have had any prefect as bright, composed and as meek as she was. Not to forget

Portia Drah from General Arts ‘C’ 2014 class.

A pleasant lady she was! So unruffled and soother than I am. A few of our descendants took over from where we left.

Although there are still few Nimarians who would eat into the rules but note that we do not side with wrong. You have to dance to the tune you requested for. For decades there has been the misconception that Nima is a bastion of insecurity.

• But firmly I say no, it is not. It is one of the most peaceful places you can ever find on the third planet. We are fun and loving people to hang out with. If you want to be sure, I will always be available to take you around.

  My assertion is not the one that seeks to portray Nimarians as saints but to rip off

  the misconception people clutch about this astounding town.

  There is no perfect human being. Among every group, there is surely the rotten pea who affects the good ones and changes their entire taste.

  In your mind’s eye, a cousin of yours once committed a heinous crime and was sanctioned. I think that should end it all right? But, ages later, fingers point at you for your cousin’s sin. How will that feel? You were not involved in the act, were you? So why should you be card as a criminal? Is that condemnation just?

  That is the tragedy of Nima. Some unscrupulous persons wronged sometime ago and Nima as a whole was black-labeled. Labeled as “Notorious”.

  Stoutly and firmly, I object! Yussif Jajah, the Member of Parliament for Ayawaso

  North Constituency and Ibrahim Saani Daara, Communication Director of the Ghana Football Association (GFA) are from Nima.

  

  Ibrahim Saanie Daara

  Abdul Salam Amadu (C.E.O of AFRO ARAB Group of Companies), Mahmud  Jajah, Abdulsalam Mohammed Daaru (Executive Director of Yaasalam  Opportunity Center and a Senior Nursing Officer at Korle Bu Teaching Hospital)

  

  Abdulsalam Mohammed Daaru

  , Inusah Mohammed aka Maazi Okoro (founder of Success Book Club) and those  that I could not mention.

  

  Hon. Yussif Jajah

  They are all youths from Nima and directly or indirectly they’re changing the face of our country Ghana. Beyond the sky is their limit.

  In my candid opinion, Nima is an Arabic word known as “Ni’mah” which literally

  means “Grace”. With the little noise I’ve made above, you should know that instead of us being tagged as notorious rather we should be marked as “gracious” entities.

For once put yourself in the shoes of Nima, feel how it feels, get to know its people

and I can assure you PARADISE IN NIMA.

Enjoy your ride!