Our Democracy With A Revolution Forehead

Our Democracy With A Revolution Forehead

Since Jan 7 when a new President was inaugurated, I have been having nightmares about what it means to declare a Cons@tu@on Day, only to realize it was the outdooring of a new brand of democracy, with a revolu@on forehead. 

Cons@tu@onal democracy is like a tortoise: too slow, too boring. No chooboei,  no red eyes, no red bands; the neighborhood is too quiet; indiscipline is too  ‘mooch,’ with big thieves getting away with crime. So then democracy needs red eyes and a little stimulant to make it people-friendly. Our political history of  revolu@on over a greater part of 1979 to 2000 gives a clue on how Ghana’s tortoise rule of law can be cured, and which party is best qualified for that. It is this backdrop that gives a new meaning to the January inauguration and its aftermath.

But this new era has its own lingo. Power is not transferred, it is seized; outgoing  officials do not resign, they are sacked; and unwilling allies could be assisted by  mobs who are ‘now in power.’ They could literally overthrow you by throwing you out the window. Every now and then, there are dismissals leMer of various categories of workers ‘with immediate effect,’ and without explana@on. When the momentum slackens, an order comes from nowhere to effect mass arrests just to make headline news and please the masses. That is what a revolu@on  means: poli@cs with red eyes. 

But it also comes with pomp and pageantry. On ‘my first day at school,’ incoming officers do not go alone; they jay-walk in style, flanked by men of muscle with  chan@ng throngs singing ‘abokyi’ parts and blowing fuse behind. What is  revolu@on without a little fuse? 

It’s three months now since elec@ons, but hearts are s@ll pumping; looted stores  are slowly bouncing back; in evidence are smoldering remains of police sta@ons  and markets set ablaze. Offices of enemy forces ransacked; open seizure of vehicles and property considered stolen or ill-gotten. The daylight house  invasion of an ex-minister who is out of the country, leaving wife and relations at the  mercy of armed men (ouuchhh!) Then this horror: electoral officers held hostage by mobs and thugs, PCs and legislators included; and while under siege, advised to declare elec@on results. Three months after voting one constituency still awaits results, which can’t be declared for fear of riots.

Even our legislature was infected by the virus: the debris of broken tables and chairs left by lawmakers (and breakers) in a historic midnight scuffle. 

But the parliamentary brawl drew the fury of taxpayers, who had prepared to issue a ‘groundbreaking’ public announcement: ‘Since they have broken and  destroyed furniture at the chamber, we hereby require all parliamentarians henceforth to carry their own chairs and tables to Parliament.’ As for those who during the midnight clash, took refuge under tables and had a ball or two squeezed by enemy forces, this is regrettable and demonstrates the risks to which male legislators are exposed in their day-to-day duties.  

Yet, in the true spirit of the times, legislators have acted out their roles as required by titles. Besides making laws, there is a residual role of ‘fighting for roads, fighting for schools, fighting for hospitals in their communities. If so, do you blame them for fighting for amenities with fisticuffs? As for chief whips and their deputies, they did the right thing whipping their opponents as required by their titles. The entire midnight riot then triggers a new maxim our legislators should consider: ‘If force fails use persuasion.’ 

In truth then, a camouflaged revolu@on is currently underway within a constitutional democracy triggered by a peaceful election. This demonstrates how an electon victory is best celebrated; through mayhem. Victory then can  pose a danger, compelling celebrants to say ‘I was so happy I took to violence.’ But of course losers were not an exception, they joined the fray and looted to help themselves and the celebrants. 

But we should have seen this coming. The peak of the grand 7th January Inauguration ceremony was the arrival of a revolu@onary neighbor who stepped up to greet our dear leader and received the biggest ova@on among all Leaders introduced to the teeming crowd. Captain Ibrahim Traore was his name, the young military Head of Burkina Faso who seized power in 2022. Receiving a hero’s welcome in Ghana meant a lot.

Has Ghana’s appetite been whelmed for a Traore? There was more. Comrade Traore felt so much at home that he wore on his hips a pistol that was not a toy gun. And when they were shoulder to shoulder,  he whispered in JM’s ear a message that aroused curiosity but sounded good enough to draw Mahama’s dimpled smile. A GNA reporter would have nailed  it: ‘the mouth-to-ear whisper was believed to be in the general interest of the  subregion.’ For JM, the smile may have implied: ‘Comrade, keep going, I will  soon follow;’ or rather ‘Comrade, keep it on; I am already doing it but don’t tell  anybody.’ 

But these were events well-choreographed. The week before, JM’s Umbrella party had commemorated J. J.’s 31st December Revolution, otherwise banned by the Supreme Court in 1994. JM clearly meant ‘Yente gyae.’ As my Kwahu friend would say in translation, ‘We don’t hear stop.’ The recent celebraton was almost full scale: march pasts, red berets, red bands, red eyes and all, and peaked with a lively chant of the revolution anthem that is no more hummed.  

Revo revo revolution 

Has a long way to go 

But has come to stay 

Cadres may go cadres may come 

But the revolution has come to stay 

Revo revo revolution

Has a long way to go 

But has come to stay.

This was Ghana after the 2024 democratic elections. 

Altogether then, why not say a ‘General Dramani’ is back in charge of our  democracy: 

A Democracy with a Revolution forehead.