‘Hear no evil, see no evil in an election year’ has been a quiet maxim outside our constitution. It simply means evildoers who are wise, should know the best time to commit a sin on the blind side of God. ‘We will not do it now, but will wait for the election year. If you touch us, we will vote against you.’

Thus on and on it goes. Street side hawkers may fear the ‘Aaba Ei’ law enforcement gangs all year round. Illicit hawkers are trailed, chased, arrested, whipped, and harassed. Their edible items could even be seized and consumed by law enforcement as instant justice.

This makes the ‘Aaba Ei’ a gang of dreadful law enforcers at every municipal assembly.  But let Ghana inch towards an election year; greater caution is exercised. Electoral politics takes over with new terms of reference whispered in the ears of street hawkers:  ‘The crowded pavements are all for you, after all you have to pay your children’s school fees….’ One may even apologise for past sins of harassment.

2008, ahead of December elections, a chronic traffic build up was at its peak on Kasoa-Winneba highway caused by hawkers and a spill-over from a nearby market. Municipal authorities mercilessly sprang into action ridding the streets of hawkers and driving them to a distant site off the highway. Come campaign time, an astute opposition flagbearer touched the heart of hawkers with a generous election promise: ‘If you vote for me this December, I will bring you back to the highway, to enable you pay your children’s school fees.’ Loud applause.

December 2008. The kind ‘asomdwee’ flagbearer wins. The day after results declaration, Kasoa street hawkers gleefully return to the highway in large droves, jubilating, waving victory handkerchiefs and mocking the defeated incumbent.

Indeed during manifesto launches, street hawkers, okada riders, etc. may have their spies lurking at the launch venue and looking out for manifestoes kind enough to have mercy on okada riders, who may speed through red traffic lights. Equally, ‘Galamseyers’ may sin quietly all year round working at midnight on the blind side of the law. But here cometh the election year.

 Galamseyers get bolder; they remove face masks and attend manifesto launches ready to applaud parties that ponder the current state of unemployment, as well as children’s school fees. As for parties that are cruel enough to threaten the daily bread of galamseyers, ‘December 7 will speak louder than words.’

August 2024, four months to the dreaded elections,  Galamsey has moved from midnight to midday, and to the tip of the Konongo highway. It only awaits an appropriate  road sign : ‘Caution, Highway Galamsey Ahead.’ Or rather, ‘Drive with care, Deep Galamsey Pit beside you.’

Political parties have been smart. They say very little about galamsey, except that one flagbearer JM, has announced a bold promise: ‘If you vote for me, I will free all Galamsey prisoners.’ The applause has been loud for this kind gesture.

Meanwhile, river pollution has worsened in an election year. Children with parents drink from poisoned river beds. Our current generation stands the risk of leaving behind a dreadful legacy: all-time decline in cocoa yield; sky-rocketing cost of water treatment, perennial water shortage in parts of Ghana, and malformed babies in Galamsey neighborhoods. 

I got the shock of my life last week, hearing from Nana Yaw my good friend, that my own district and home has now lost the sanctity of neighborhood rivers. Our once eco-friendly rivers are gone. The favorite Ayensu River of which we bathed and drank  in childhood, has now turned Milo. More painful since one of my own brothers was named after the River. The River’s appellation still lingers in my memory: ‘Ayensu, the ferocious river that floods in times of drought.’ Ayensu may still be flooding, but it has a new name: The Milo River.

May you rest in peace, River Ayensu.

In this season of manifesto launches, let political parties spell out policies about illicit mining. Let them go beyond a reckless, ‘I will free all Galamsey prisoners if voted to power.’

It would be a tragedy if the great song by Ephraim Amu, urging us to protect the sacred land of our birth, were corrupted as follows:

YƐn Ara Asaase Ni (Sacred Land of our Own)

YƐn ara asaase ni, except in election years  

ƐyƐ aboƆden den ma yƐn, except in election years

….

Edu me ne wo nso so, except in election years

SƐ yƐbƐyƐ bi atoa so, except in election years…

…..

Oman yi sƐ ƐbƐyƐ yie o, except in election years

Oman yi sƐ ƐrennyƐ yie oo,

ƐyƐ asƐmdahƆ sƐ, omanfo bra na ƐkyerƐ

Except in election yeeeeears.

***

Writer via email, kwyankah@yahoo.com