When Nana Addo became president in 2016, the whole country was thrown into a fleeting state of euphoria. To be fair, everyone and I mean everyone was jubilant, scores of people rallied on the streets to celebrate an iconic victory. All major party faithful alike. My mom, just like my grandmother is and has always been a staunch NDC supporter. As extremely polarized as she is/could ever be, she for once in her myopic political rallying admitted the previous government performed abysmally. Even though she never said that openly, much to her disgust perhaps, I was 100% sure that deep down within the coffers of her heart, the new government came with an aura of prosperity and stability to her liking of course. Do you know how hard it is to make women in general- talk less of one in her 50s to openly admit her choice was a mess? That’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack! Good luck my brother!
For the first time in decades, we collectively set aside our differences to agree a particular candidate was competent enough for the highest political post. Cos why wouldn’t we? The bitter memories of our businesses collapsing from dumsor, the money we lost from fuelling our generators, avoidable deaths, hardships, unemployment, gross corruption, etc. Heck, we even looked back in hindsight and told ourselves: ‘Had it not been for our proclivity to affection, sob stories, and sympathy votes, JM shouldn’t have been president at all. We chastised ourselves. Lamented. Scornful. And said NEVER AGAIN!
Ghanaians had been starving for hope when it finally arrived in 2016. Despair made way for hope, momentarily at least. It turned out that the Devil you know indeed! An old lady with experience once told me that people are capable of deception and willing to deceive. That knowledge/experience comes along with an arguable pessimism about human nature. But it also opens the door to another thing-FAITH, which we have all lost completely in the past 2 months. Bro…. we’ve been betrayed, hurt, and massively disappointed. We have become distrustful even of hope itself, as our hope has been repeatedly shattered. Utter hopelessness. All of us. Rich, Poor, and Middle Class. Everyone.
Now my mom- just like thousands-is eagerly looking forward to rolling down the remaining two years hoping a gentleman would come to rescue us from the belly of the whale. Ironically it turns out to be the same guy whom she considered incompetent deep within her subconscious even though she couldn’t and won’t ever articulate that explicitly. It’s a horrific loop. You and I are all in a simulation. And that’s the real definition of Stockholm Syndrome.
Politics in my beloved country is like 2 fraudulent salesmen on a podium marketing a poisonous pill. More like Zyklon B cyanide. Poison is even an understatement. Literally. Each one equally knows and is aware of how potent and ferocious the poison is. After a long chicken game, however, the victor turns out to be who can market the less potent poison. The good news is you will have HOPE…momentarily. The bad news is you’ll die anyway cos it’s poison……lol!