OF MISCONCEPTIONS AND STEREOTYPES Any time I read of Bawku I think of conflict. Any time Yendi is mentioned I think of fighting. When I hear of Alavanyo, the image of cutlass wielding fighters comes to mind. Just like when I hear of Bali, Indonesia, bombs exploding. Sierra Leone and I think amputees. Ethiopia, malnourished kids with fly-infested parched lips. I have not been to Sierra Leone or Alavanyo but I transited in Ethiopia and even consider it my spiritual home. Jah rastafari!! I did part of my national service-post university in Bawku. I never heard a gunshot and felt love aplenty. I visited Yendi, once, I admit, but the image that remains in my mind is that of an old town. It was rather quiet as it was the season for Islamic fasting and yes the roads needed working on. The palace, then under guard, was imposing and would benefit from some renovation. The hospital looked like it was in disuse. I am hoping I can go to Sierra Leone one day soon. I have always had a thing for Fourah Bay College. My uncle had a brief sojourn there and came back with both arms intact. So why is this thing called perception still nagging me. Now to another matter, STEREOTYPE: “All northerners are Moslems”. It does not matter if even you are called Saint Joseph or Peter or Barnabas. So I find my house invaded at Eid Il Fitr by a “marauding band” of gift-seeking kids in Sepe Tinpom, Kumasi, calling out Alhaji,Alhaji,”barka de sala”. And “all northerners speak Hausa”. No. Hausa is not even a Ghanaian language. And if you are not asking for permission on Friday afternoon to go to the Mosque, you are deemed a bad moslem. I cannot get it. “ The north is very far”. Yet we travel to Australia gladly. To China with glee. To Dubai with aplomb. Forty five minutes by air and you are in Tamale. But can I exactly blame the non-northerners? A young friend of mine from Navrongo called two weeks ago and ominously told me he had something serious to discuss with me. I told him to come to my workplace and only to call before to be sure I was at work. I worried in the meantime. I tried to guess what it could be about.Was it money? I did not have any to spare. Was it about a job? I could only give him some pep talk. It kept me awake at night, not that my chronic insomnia would let me sleep. He was generally a likeable lad and seems to have escaped the “curse of youth”. He has just gotten himself a degree and seemed set to put a smile on his parents’ faces. His only and elder brother has so far procured only sorrow for their parents. The day came and he came. He wanted me to help him change his national service posting. He wanted me to help him get reposted. To Accra. From Bimbilla. He came with an arsenal of asinine reasons. One of his reasons particularly irked me. He claimed his investigations revealed that there was neither electricity nor internet connectivity in the area. And that he would find it unliveable. I was incensed. Vexed. Riled. I walked him out of my office. I beat myself hard, for an educated northern young man was this simple. Besides he actually thought he could get me go along with his shameful attitude. Did he think so little of me? Did he think? My biggest realization is that I cannot really blame the “non-northerner” for those laughably erroneous misconceptions about the North. I am by this serving notice on one and all, that I am allergic to condescension and will not be blamed for my righteous outrage at anyone who falls foul of my heritage. BE WARNED!! And Alavanyo means “It shall be well” Can you imagine?
Posted on: Tue, 30 Sep 2014 14:46:59 +0000
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