It’s been a few months of being away from Simpa Panyin, and already many have given their own interpretations to the reasoning behind my absence. Some say I had stopped writing because my party NPP is in power, so I don’t have the motivation to write.
I will like you to ignore any such interpretation anyone gives you, except to say that I went in search of greener pastures. It is not because the NPP is in power, for I kept writing, well over 15 months, even after the NPP won power.
Honestly, Simpa Panyin regrets taking a break from the pen. There was hardly a week without the temptation to call my editors to announce my return. Ghana was getting hotter and hotter, and a lot of my readers were putting pressure, to know what I would have written if I were still alive.
For instance, the dollar keeps rising, while the cedi keeps failing, and we kept blaming it on Bawumia! I watched helplessly as Bawumia and John Mahama traded words, one for realities of giving lectures, the other for the return of the incompetent one, as the NPP kept helping the John Mahama’s campaign win more votes.
A couple of weeks ago I saw pictures of the fleeting of laptops, sewing machines, and different colours of dross at the NDC women and youth congress. Brokers of the votes and the money kept themselves busy making the roll call of those who have received the equipment and the monies the candidates had provided as seeds of votes, making sure to emphasise that George Opare Addo gave more than Osimesi and Obenten.
Frankly, my perception of how to fight corruption in Ghana has changed. I am gradually realizing that corruption is thicker than blood. It is the most rooted industry in Ghana, and it is complicated with political tactics, with many complicated interests, so much so that the phenomena is now as unyielding as sex and death!
I am not going to comment on any of the above. This being my resumption article, I will like to, rather, tell you about the magic of the day I was born, the magic of faith, a never-ending romance that glows, winds and flows into its orbit, beautifully and restfully, and slowly touches the core, the people.
You should know, by now, that my perspective in life is rooted in one thing; the soul of Winneba. I have seen, and continue to see Winneba as spirit, the only town that has its own capital, its capital being deeply rooted in our souls. Winneba is the most beautiful music in the ears of men.
People used to say there were Koforidua flowers (that Koforidua women were beautiful). I have been to Koforidua, several times, in more than a decade. I am yet to see the flowers as flowering as the angels in Winneba. In Winneba we call ours angels, and we have proudly kept them in their angelic forms and updated them till now. They are beautiful, not because we say so, but because our women know, in themselves, that they are proudly beautiful.
I look forward to a day when Winneba will rise beyond the world. A day when the world would know why we are a proud people. Why we created our own hearts. I look forward to a period in our posterity when men and women would troop to witness how we dance with the gods, how we make music with our blood.
Sometimes people fault me for my obsession with Winneba. You see, when God was depositing gold in your land somewhere in the Western, Ashanti, Eastern regions, he did not do same for us. You turned your gold into galamsey pits and destroyed your land. You have cocoa. You have rubber. You have cotton, timber, oil; you grow yam, plantations, and fruits of all kinds. We have none of those.
All we have in Winneba is our wind and salty land. What we have is our enduring pride that never goes away. And you don’t want us to let you know what we have? Sit there…
The only town to have captured live lions to climax our annual Aboakyer festival, before we arrived at our current deer captures. Winneba became the first town in the world to have produced a black President at the UN General Assembly, in the person of Dr. Alex Quayson Sackey. The only town to have produced a Vice-President (Ekow Nkansen Arkaah) who was slapped!
In the whole of the world, we are the only people who know, that, regardless of the circumstances, it will never rain in Winneba on the first Saturday of May. That is how powerful we are in tune with our gods – we are who we are because we are connected souls.
We are just one hour away to the West of Accra. Visit and find things out yourself. Let the children educate you on our beautiful fancy dress festival (January 1). Let men and women talk to you about our pride in the Aboakyer festival (first Saturday of May).
In saying so, I have not said Winneba is the cleanest town in Ghana. Winneba, perhaps, is one of the poorest towns in Ghana. But we are at the same time, no doubt, the richest souls ever lived! If you want to know us, don’t identify us by the number of broken houses you might see. Don’t measure us by the lack of what we should have had. A true Winnebarian is measured by his inner man, his inner reflective peace. He has faith, and he is beautiful inside out any day.
But it took some people, who, in their thinking of posterity, to leave the town in pride, in such a manner that profusely awes me, to turn it into that which I’m in love with every day of my life, over and over again, as though it is a continuous reincarnation of a sort. How do I leave this my beautiful world in the hands of posterity?
The thought of posterity is the reason that inspires me, for there are still more beautiful souls being born to the world, who deserve to be part of our world. But it is also the reason I try to avoid reality. It is scary to think that our souls are declining, and we are inviting in our wake disconnected souls that forget posterity, for the sake of immediate corrupted self-gratification – that suddenly is frightening!
Still, Winneba is king!
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