The Writer
A new national policy launched over a year ago is so late in coming, the schedule officer could as well issue the notice: ‘we are still looking into it.’ It was also the policy teeming youths still await to take them out of joblessness.
Die-hard believers, even though skeptical have not given up, driven by sheer faith ‘in His Mighty Name.’ The situation is similar to Gen Acheampong’s proposed Union Government in the late 1970s, which required considerable faith to swallow, and led to the slogan: ‘Union Government, Yɛnte aseɛ, nso yɛasɔmu’(Union Government: hard to swallow yet we support). In those heady days of military governments, that was the safest slogan to chant in order to forestall imperial orders of ‘monkye no….’
Happily though, many admit this is an albatross the big boss has brought home, but will be too embarrassing to withdraw. Said one Govt official on a trip abroad, ‘The 24-hour policy is a good campaign message, but doesn’t really make sense….’
I was probably not alone having a hard time with the 24-hour logic. Not even after a simple formula had been introduced. They called it ‘Formula 1-3-3:’ One job, three shifts, three workers. And what did all this mean for the jobless? Is it one monthly salary multiplied by three workers? 2) One salary divided by three workers? Or 3) One salary multiplied by free labour? Next, from whose 24-hour pocket was salary coming?
In the course of all this, came the sudden roaring of bulldozers across the country one morning. A demolition squad flexing its muscles. Their mission: to pave the way for the new Queen of Job-Creation, 24-hour markets.
A total of 261 round-the-clock markets across the country! To ensure this, demolish all obstacles in the way of the Queen. The outcome was an eyesore: mosques pulled down; school buildings crushed; homes flattened; stores destroyed; kiosks pulverized. Then this horror tale: nearly completed markets, ravaged! No warning, no caution, no notice.
Across the country, trails of women’s teardrops. Capital lost; rendered homeless, devastated, helpless. They wailed, sobbed, cried; some collapsed; others cursed. Some confronted the heartless invaders. “Demolishing an uncompleted market for a new market is insane,” said one radio presenter normally friendly to Government: “This is a complete waste of the taxpayers’ money.”
But who masterminded this assault? Newsmen rushed to the secretariat of the 24 Hour Economy only to be told by its Director, ‘we have no idea.’ It was not their baby. So whose baby was this? Silence.
Protests across the country: market women, chiefs, youths. Locations: Aowin, Enchi, Abossey Okai Zongo, Aseebu.
At Aowin, the street protest was rowdy. Men and women in mourning gear, holding placards: ‘We don’t want the 24-hour market:’ ‘No Konkomma Yam Market here,’ ‘No Nzema Market No Accra… Yɛn ani abre abre kɔɔ’ ‘Choooboei, 24 hour economy market yɛmpɛ ooooo.’ Aowin voices chanted in anger.
Said one woman facing cameras:
“I stand here for market women, women who have toiled to take their children to school. Mr. President, go to the markets in Accra at 2 pm and see how women toil to keep families alive. When you promised us the 24-hour economy, we didn’t dream you were going to demolish our structures…structures from which we look after our children. Women have taken loans to work …and have to pay back….The children of many are in universities, nursing schools. ..how many jobs has Government created? Is this what you promised? You have made us a laughing stock of the opposition; many point to what JDM has done to us…Who will wake up at dawn to sell pepper and tomatoes? Which markets? I have gone for loans; I am a citizen, and I will talk …
“Those who woke up at dawn to vote, you have disappointed them; they have regretted… You have enabled NPP to make us a laughing stock; I am so pained, I was so heated till I spoke this to camera, now my heart has cooled down…” she said, sobbing.
It is scarier to realise that the current war on women’s livelihood is only a curtain raiser; the actual 24-hour package, when fully unleashed, may trigger thunder and earthquakes. Fire Service and NADMO please stand by.
By what logic were 24-hour markets birthed? None except for comic relief. Markets normally close at 5 pm when sellers and buyers disappear and night creatures take over. Indeed, women normally rush home at five to babysit Daddy… and possibly change his diapers.
Hear one angry chief from the Central region: ‘Who will buy ‘koobi’ at midnight in Asebu?’ (comic relief) Indeed, our local siblings often think policy makers are simply dumb, only creating contract opportunities for themselves.
The entire market project could simply be contract-driven, not jobs for the youth. Not even single sourcing, but night-sourcing! A simple create, loot and share?
And don’t forget possible outcomes of this comedy: abandoned market sites turned into motels by pilgrims of the night, comedy; day students from community schools celebrating the arrival of free housing, comedy.
Yet a few may indeed benefit from a midnight market. Don’t forget citizens returning from wake keeping, but also the moral majority: those coming home from ‘Awɔɔ shia.’ Comic relief.
Finally, a friendly advice to policy makers: Never site a 24hour market within a kilometer of local cemeteries, Comedy.
At midnight and beyond, there may be unusual clients. Hahahahahaha!
By Kwesi Yankah writes
