Ghanatta Ayaric
Three Educated Bulsa Generations
Random Reminiscences and Thoughts: from the Pioneers of Sandema Old Primary and Wiaga St. Francis Schools through the Bulsa Youth Association to Bulubisa Meina Yeri (BMY).
THE FIRST GENERATION
The first generation of public school-educated Bulsa emerged in the 1950s. By that decade, the pioneers of the first formal schools, Sandema Old Primary and Wiaga Saint Francis Primary School, which opened in 1936 and 1937 respectively, had completed schooling and continued to train and pursue careers in various civil service professions. The term “educated” here is used solely in the context of formal education.
Among the public servants of that educated group, the teachers were conspicuous, first by their numbers and visibility and second by their dedication to service to their people. They touched young lives, made a tremendous impact, and left a strong legacy on Bulsa society. Coming from all parts of Bulsaland (an area of land inhabited by the Bulsa people of Northern Ghana), they were the informal representatives of the people regarding policy clarification and implementation of the government. They were the intermediaries between the bureaucracy and illiterate folk, translating and writing letters and official documents for them, interpreting the world beyond the illiterate mind’s horizon, and helping it grasp the complex interrelationships between the colonial setup and traditional practices and way of life. They were the unofficial secretaries of our chiefs, accompanying them to official functions and meetings. Above all, they were the teaching staff at the new schools that President Kwame Nkrumah had built following Ghana’s independence from Britain in 1957, and they were knowledgeable and devoted pedagogues.
The teachers
Trained teachers at the time were categorised as Cert B or Cert A teachers. Doing a four-year teacher training course in two phases was the norm. Anyone who had finished standard 7 (middle school, equivalent to junior high school today) could apply to do pupil teaching. It was the most sought-after job for most Standard 7 certificate holders, especially as more and more primary schools opened and needed to be staffed. Every pupil teacher’s ambition was to pursue a teaching career, attend college, and obtain the Cert B qualification first. They would return to the classroom and teach for a few years before going on to pursue a Certificate A, thus attaining the complete status of a trained teacher. The high status attached to the Cert B and Cert A qualifications is reflected in entries in the logbooks of both Sandema Old Primary School and Wiaga St. Francis Primary School. The qualifications (pupil teacher, Cert B and CertA) were always indicated against the names of members of the teaching staff in ranking order, with “Cert A” at the top and “pupil-teacher” at the bottom.
While primary schools had Cert B teachers as headteachers, middle schools were headed by Cert A teachers. There were only six middle schools in Buluk in the 1950s and 1960s: These were: Sandema Middle Boarding School (1953), Wiaga St. Martins Middle Day School (1958), Ayieta Middle Day School (1961) and Chuchuliga Middle Day School (1967). Sandema Afoko Middle School and Fumbisi Middle School opened in 1968. By 1965, all Bulsa villages had primary schools. Primary and middle schools had more trained teachers on their staff than is the case today. Pupil teachers were mostly temporary appointments. Some pupil teachers stayed on to complete the Cert B training, qualifying them further for the job. Others left the teaching service altogether to pursue careers in other areas within the public service. Conversely, some trained teachers also worked in various state departments, but most remained in teaching, making it a calling. Teachers were not public servants who could afford cars. Bicycles were their regular means of transport. Only a few could afford motorbikes. Nevertheless, they were content to receive salaries that enabled them to put food on the table for their families and see one child through secondary school and maybe to university. Yes, they had modest life dreams; they cut their coats according to their clothes and were contented with their lives.
One often wonders how they made such a significant impact on their teaching. There were hardly any ready sources of teaching materials or libraries; the only ones available were those provided by the Christian mission houses or the regional capital, Bolgatanga. Nevertheless, they made the most of what they had, broadened their horizons, and increased their knowledge of the subjects they taught. The logbooks of Sandema Old Primary School and Wiaga Saint Francis Primary School bear witness to lesson preparation notes replete with creative ideas on enriching and motivating learning, each lesson having a well-thought-out plan and its content neatly written by hand. The handwriting of Mr Abu Gariba, one of Old Primary’s first headteachers, is legendary and simply beautiful, as some of his former pupils like Adeenze Kangah would testify.
I still visualise these teachers in their bright, neatly starched, ironed uniforms, black shorts, and white shirts for the men and khaki dresses for the women. Headteachers were distinguished from the other teachers by their immaculate white-and-white uniforms (white shirts, white shorts). Black leather shoes were the standard footwear, accompanied by a pair of socks that reached up to the calf of the leg, just below the knee, and held the obligatory pens: a fountain pen and blue and red Bic pens. They were very strict disciplinarians, exuded authority, and commanded respect in and out of school. Caning was permitted as a form of punishment for bad behaviour, and they never spared the cane when a child misbehaved. Respect and discipline were always demanded of pupils. Those were still the days when schoolchildren would walk up to teachers they saw anywhere outside school, stand at attention, and greet them “Good morning, afternoon or evening, sir or madam” before continuing. Their role as guides and influencers of good character in children continued even after school, and schoolchildren were always on the alert to avoid being caught publicly misbehaving by a teacher. The teachers set examples of good behaviour themselves. The few seen drunk or engaging in untoward behaviour outside school were the exception.
Yes, the first-generation teachers were paragons of commitment to the teaching profession. Suppose it is widely accepted that early childhood education is indispensable in laying a solid foundation for the child’s mental development as they go up the education ladder. In that case, the mark of these teachers lies in the solid foundation they gave their pupils at elementary school, which was later built upon at the secondary and tertiary levels, evidence that has been demonstrated in the top academic achievements of some of their former pupils who form the second generation of educated Bulsa and which emerged and blossomed from the 1960s to the 1990s. Many of their former pupils have earned doctoral degrees, and some have gone on to become professors in various fields of learning.
May the selfless dedication to duty and the memory of our first teachers live forever in Bulsaland. I hope that appropriate ways will be found to collectively honour these heroes and heroines whose legacy has enriched Bulsa society and history in diverse ways. Some are listed below, and others are incomplete and will be completed over time. Buluk Journal would appreciate more names (and possibly their life stories) from their offspring and former pupils who may still remember details and highlights of their lives.
Other public servants
The teachers apart, there were a good number of first-generation educated Bulsa occupying senior positions in other areas of the public service and private sector by the 1960s: and 1970s: police, military, administration, judiciary, banking, finance, health and medicine, food and agriculture to name some. Their achievements impacted Bulsaland in diverse ways. Some created employment opportunities for qualified Bulsa in various government departments and ministries. They also lobbied for development projects to be brought to Bulsaland. It is known, for example, that most of the dams in Bulsaland today were constructed in the late 1950s or early 1960s when Peter Akanjepung Afoko was chairman of the Bulsa Local Authority Council. And like their counterparts, the teachers, they served as role models for the second generation of educated Bulsa, establishing the fact that given the opportunity of a good education, a peasant farmer’s son or daughter could rise to a high and respectable public position, improve their circumstances as well as serve as agents of change in community development. Some of the names in the incomplete list here are probably familiar to our older Bulsa readership. Again, I hope more names will be added to it with time.
Interestingly, a Bulsa was once the head of state of Ghana, albeit for a few hours. On 17 April 1967, junior army officers Lieutenants Samuel Arthur, Moses Yeboah and Second Lieutenant Osei-Poku led a force of 120 soldiers in a coup plot codenamed “Operation Guitar Boy” to overthrow the Kotoka-led National Liberation Council (NLC) and announced Major Achaab as interim head of state. The coup was foiled, and Arthur and Yeboah faced the firing squad after a treason trial by a military tribunal. Major Achaab spent some time in jail.
THE SECOND GENERATION
As mentioned earlier, the second generation of educated Bulsa pupils of the pioneer teachers at elementary school is a medley group of skilled professionals. Unlike the case in the first generation, teachers do not dominate it. It can be divided into two groups, but these should not be seen in strict terms, as the two often merge.
The first group includes the men and women who, by the late 1960s and early 1970s, were still pursuing various courses at the three universities at the time (in Legon, Cape Coast, and Kumasi), had graduated from university, or had completed whatever professional training they had chosen and gone into gainful employment.
Many members of this first group (most of whom are in their late sixties or early seventies and are probably already retired) have distinguished themselves in their chosen careers as learned academics, high-profile public figures, private consultants, and business professionals. Names that immediately come to mind include the following: Mathias Apen, Abisa Seidu, Moses Ajaab, Clement Akapame, Rowland Achaadi, Basko Kante, Joseph Azuwie, Norbert Akisipkak Ataande, Clement Adamu Akateng, Dominic Atibil, Robert Asekabta, Azagsuk Azantilow, David Adeenze Kangah, Lennox Kanbonaba, Mathew Kanbonaba, Raphael Atengdem, Martin Alamisi Amidu, Justice Akamba, Assibi Amidu, Sylvester Abanteriba, Edward Anisonyaansah, George Afulang, Francis Akalbey, Conrad Seidu, Brigadier Awusima, Afulangpok Angabe, Alanlie Afoko, Joseph Akanpatuilsi, Peter Abagdem, Jerome Apeck…
This group formed the core of the Bulsa Bulsa Youth Association.
The Association had significant successes in its work. It was able to eliminate nudity [in public] and the “catching” (nipokba yika, kidnapping women) of women by men for wives.
Nudity was a common practice among illiterate (unlettered) women. They would go about their daily life wearing only leaves to cover their private parts. I still remember my early teenage years when association members would wait on roads leading to Sandema market and prevent women “dressed” in leaves from visiting the market. Educating women in our village communities to dress properly using cloth went hand in hand with such drastic measures.
Indiscriminate “catching” (kidnapping) of unmarried young girls and marrying them, partly against their will, was another common traditional practice in the past that was negative. If a man admired a woman and feared she would not return his love and proposal, he would simply mobilise his friends to kidnap and carry her to his home, singing wedding songs “nangbein” [plural! or: “nangbein-songs”. The night would be spent drumming and dancing to celebrate the “marriage.” That having been done, the woman was “registered” as the man’s wife, pending the performance of the traditional marriage rites between the two families. The kidnapping act was to forestall any other suitor’s chances. Very often, families of girls who were kidnapped and married that way did not protest the “marriage”, especially if they thought she had reached marriage age but was still unwilling to marry. It was even suspected that some families connived with the young men to kidnap and marry their daughters that way. However, some girls also agreed to be kidnapped to get married to the men they loved instead of marrying suitors favoured by their parents and whom they did not love.
The Bulsa Youth Association also successfully campaigned against female genital excision long before the practice was made punishable by law. On reaching puberty age, young girls were expected to have the clitoris excised. The practice was so popular among illiterate women that girls who were not excised were instead the exception and the objects of mockery and sarcastic comments. A girl who was not excised was often mocked as someone carrying an axe (liek) between her thighs.
Bulsa becoming a sovereign district is an achievement that can be credited to the efforts of the Bulsa Youth Association. Until 1972, Bulsa was only a local authority community under the Navrongo district. That district had to approve all official business and decisions of the local authority council. The association agitated and successfully campaigned to have Bulsa made an autonomous district.
The Association also made its presence felt as a group that cared for Bulsa communities in other parts of Ghana, particularly in regional capitals such as Bolgatanga, Tamale, Kumasi, and Accra. Some members of the group had risen to influential positions in the civil service, and due to their high social status, they were always the first to be approached when anything was amiss in the Bulsa communities. In those places, for example, if a Bulsa got into trouble, needed urgent help, or died, the Association was there to help. Young Bulsa students also sought guidance and counselling in matters relating to studies and career opportunities. In all these functions, the association gave Bulsa people living outside Buluk a feeling of belonging to a particular identity and cultural heritage.
I do not doubt that if the Bulsa Youth Association had had the numerous opportunities of today’s new technology (such as the internet and Facebook) at its disposal, the group would have been more successful in pursuing its objectives (cf. Bulsa Youth Association, by Mathias Apen).
Below is an overview of the Association’s history and objectives, as well as its achievements and challenges, as recounted by Mathias Apen, a former group member.
“The Bulsa Bulsa Youth Association was formed in 1969 by Mr Moses Ajaab, Mr Basko Kante (both students of the University of Ghana and residents of Commonwealth Hall) and Miss Lydia Azuelie Akanbodiipo (who later became the first Bulsa female Member of Parliament).
The key influential factor: Soon after the 1966 coup d’état, the late Dr K.A. Busia, officer responsible for civic education in Ghana under the National Liberation Council (NLC) formulated the Rural Development Programme for the military regime, a programme which he also pursued when he became Prime Minister of the Republic of Ghana in 1969 [on the ticket of the Progress Party. Under this programme’s agricultural component, the fertile valleys of Finbisa [Fumbisi, South Bulsa District capital] became attractive for commercial rice farming. Top Government officials (mainly in the army and police) and other high-ranking public and civil servants were attracted to the area. In 1968, the Sandem (Bulsa Bulsa) Local Council, to raise revenue for development, decided to put a levy on each bag of rice harvested that was to be taken out of the local area or district.
The commercial farmers, especially the army and police officers who had big rice farms in the valley and were harvesting abundantly, were reluctant to pay the levy. The Council, therefore, attempted to block the rice from being carted out of Bulsaland. The influential farmers, especially those with strong links to the Government, including late Col. Acquaye Nortey (the then Upper East Region Minister) and others, tried to sanction the district for the blockade by limiting the supply of fuel and other farm inputs to the Finbisa (Fumbisi) valleys.
At that juncture, the three honourable citizens realised the need for a strong voice to defend the local council’s plan and agenda, and counter the actions of the influential farmers. Forming a youth association as port-parole for the people of Builsa Bulsa was the ideal option, so the Bulsa Youth Association was born.
Because the immediate purpose/objective for the formation of the Builsa Bulsa Youth Association seemed to be limited to the rice levy factor, more permanent objectives, including the following, were added:
• Promoting the proper use of arable farmlands in Builsa, especially the Finbisa (Fumbisi) valley, for the benefit of all Bulsa.
• Campaigning to eradicate some ‘negative’ traditional practices
• Promoting health and education
• Advocating for the general development of Buluk
• The creation of general political awareness.
The Builsa Youth Association successfully executed its set objectives until 1992, when the Association’s last general meeting was held in Sandem(Sandema). Soon after the formation of the Constituent Assembly (which was charged with mapping out the road for a return to civilian rule after 19 years of military rule under JJ Rawlings and the Provisional National Defence Council (PNDC), political blocs among the association’s members began emerging. It was in this charged atmosphere that the general meeting was held. Immediately after the meeting, some political enthusiasts started levelling accusations against the meeting organisers. Key among the allegations was that the meeting was held to embarrass the ruling PNDC government and promote the political interests of some of its members. The organisers naturally got disillusioned, and with the intrusion of partisan political interests, the association lost its bite and crumbled. No member(s) has dared to initiate a general meeting and revive the group.”
To a large extent, members of the Bulsa Youth Association (also non-members in their age group) were seen as role models by the second group of that generation, those now in their sixties and early seventies, a group in which I and many others belong: James Adagbanbiik Agalic, Amoak Afoko, Peter Akisikpak, Peter Abagdem, Paul Afoko, Frank Adochim, Leopold Akatali, to name some of its older members. Some of this group’s younger members would include Philip Ataarem, Alfred Agyeenta, Anthony Akanbon-Toak Ayande, Emmanuel Akanko, Joseph Whitall; Steve Adawen Syme, Francis Apanka, Daniel Awenwei Syme, James Akankpegli Ayigsi, Kwame Agati, Jimmy Atengdem, Paschal Atengdem, Robert Amankatoa Anaab, Sofo Ali-Akpajiak, Caesar Anyebadek Apentiik, Martin Anbegwon Atuire, Caesar Alimsinya Atuire, Margaret Akanbang, George Akanlig-Pare, Seth Alafa, Akisibadek Afoko, Eric Anadem, Gariba Anadem, Lydia Bawa, Christiana Akpilima-Atibil, Agnes Asangalisa, Margaret Lariba Bawa Arnhein, Alberta Amoalie Afoko, Kwame Agati, Baako Haruna, Akanbanbiem Akanbodiipo, Janet Adama, Cecilia Akanle, Elizabeth Haruna, Baba Azinab, Sylvester Ankobilla, Theodore Akaboa Ayaric, Pascal Avabe Ayaric, Sheriff Aguuta, John Bosco Agbaam, Francis Salifu, and many others whose names I cannot immediately call to mind. We were the younger brothers and sisters, ambitious young people who were closely following in the footsteps of our senior brothers and sisters in the first group of our generation. If sharing the same humble beginnings as us, these seniors had studied hard, made it to higher institutions of learning and professional training and got jobs that most members of the first generation of educated Bulsa could only dream of; they were only conveying to us, though their achievements, that the sky was the limit; they were only demonstrating the motivating fact that a peasant farmer’s son or daughter could go places if they made full use of the privilege of education, was determined and ready to work hard.
When the Bulsa Youth Association was formed, most of the younger members of the second generation had just entered or were nearing the completion of secondary school. A few had also just entered university. The 1970s were our student heyday! I recall with nostalgia the student meetings in Sandema in those days of the Bulsa Students Union. Their meetings are still vivid in my memory. Planned to coincide with market days, these meetings attracted primarily secondary school students (“secondarians”, as secondary school students were referred to) from schools in the Northern and Upper Regions: Navrongo Secondary (Navasco), Tamale Secondary (Tamasco), which opened as Gbewaa Secondary, Ghana Secondary (Ghanasco), Tamale, Bolga Secondary (Big Boss), Bawku Secondary, Notre Dame Seminary Secondary, Navrongo, St. Charles Seminary Secondary, Tamale, St. Francis Xavier Secondary, Wa, Lawra Secondary School, Tumu Secondary, Nandom Secondary, and of course the only girls’ secondary school in the then Upper Region at the time, Jirapa Secondary. “Secondarians” apart, the meetings were attended by a few undergraduate students from the three universities at the time (Legon, CapeVars and Tech, as they were popularly known) and students of teacher training colleges, notably, St John Bosco College, Navrongo, Pusiga Training College and Gbewaa Training College, Tamale, and Tamale Women’s Training College, both of which later merged to become Bagabaga Training College. There was neither a secondary school in Buluk at the time nor a teacher’s training college and the latter is still lacking, so from the four Bulsa middle schools, pupils left the district to go to secondary schools in other parts of North Ghana. A few students went beyond North Ghana, though.
At the beginning of each vacation period, we would practically descend on Buluk, streaming in from our various locations in hired buses. The Christmas holidays always saw the largest conglomeration of students. The holidays lasted about two weeks, which was too short for students to travel down South to Kumasi, Accra, or any of the larger southern cities to spend time with their relatives. Besides, the annual Feok/Fiok Festival, which always precedes Christmas, was an attraction that kept most of us in Buluk.
At student meetings, a motley group of representatives from our various institutions was united by our common Bulsa heritage and the dream of a bright future for Bulsaland. On the agenda of such meetings, we most often had items related to education: organising vacation classes for schoolchildren and adult literacy classes for young illiterate people in our various communities. And like young people everywhere, we always looked forward to the fun that followed the meetings, the records dance night, and fun events that would be repeated once or twice in Sandema or Wiaga before the end of the holidays. Those were the days of Afro hair, bell-bottom trousers, skin-tight shirts and “guarantee shoes”. They were the days of hit music tunes like “I feel all right” (James Brown), “Synthetic World” (Jimmy Cliff), Kung Fu Fighting (Karl Douglas), and many more.
However, we were not only fun-loving but also avid readers. Reading was a pastime, and it had to be, because there was little to distract or entertain us. Life was simple. The television set and telephone were still scarce, if not unknown. I had never seen a TV set or used a phone until 1976. I was 19 years old. Today, even toddlers know how to operate TV sets and mobile phones. To listen to modern music, we depended on the radio, the record player, and the cassette player. The gramophone had just been buried. It was, therefore, not uncommon to see students hanging out in town with books, magazines and comics in their hands. On average, we were well-informed about current affairs, both national and international, and our conversations often featured some of the pressing issues of the time, such as the Vietnam War, the Cold War, and nuclear armaments.
I recall Sandema town quite vividly. A lot has changed. The park, which was the venue of significant social events, such as the Feok/Fiok Festival, a visit by a high government functionary, or the election of a traditional chief, has been taken over by a lorry station and an unfinished community centre. Standing at the post office building in the 1960s and 1970s, one had an uninterrupted view of the health centre (now hospital) towards Balansa; the old council block, the stone-walled dispensary (where the fire service building now stands) and the police station towards Wiaga; the old court building and Apoteba primary (grounds of the traditional council and annual Feok/Fiok festival) in the direction of the Sandema Chief’s Palace. From the same position, the view of Sandema market centre was blocked only by Mr Remy Akisikpak’s house, Akisimi (Atokwie) yeri, Akunkuanab yeri, Anatey yeri and Kwame yeri. Today, container kiosks and houses have taken over every metre of land in and around the market centre and its immediate environs. Town planning has been poor. Access to some parts of the town by car is virtually impossible. I wonder how the district Fire Service would get to those places in the event of a fire outbreak.
The good old market stalls in Sandema market, where people traded locally and produced foodstuffs on market days and where young people loved to meet and hang around with their “flames” (girlfriend or boyfriend) on non-market days, don’t exist anymore.
I still picture Akakyaaroa, a deranged woman who had her home in one of those stalls and would sweep large market parts every morning, ensuring the area was clean. I also visualise and hear Ayalimbayeri walking about “town”, talking to himself, who, despite his leprosy handicap, used to build and repair his mud house in front of Mr Akantigsi Afoko’s house all by himself. He would cultivate the small plots of land around it for food. I remember as well Agoumtingoa, Asuembiik, “British Law”, and many other mentally ill people who walked about the market area, too, asking for alms. “British Law” did not like begging. He would snatch things from sellers’ tables, earning him a name whose meaning was not coincidental but an insinuation of British colonial rule.
And that little girl, Abena, suddenly appeared in town from nowhere. She never spoke a word; she was probably dumb. She had her home in the market stalls and grew up to womanhood in Sandema town. Sadly, she was often abused by unscrupulous men, which led to several aborted pregnancies. And there was Kampala, a former secondary school student who ended up a mental patient. Akanpkocho (a nickname), a middle schoolmate who also had the same fate, was fond of gathering carcasses and cooking them for food in one of the market stalls. He was aggressive and would sling stones at people in homes in the vicinity who, nauseated by the foul smell of his meat, tried to prevent him from “polluting” the air around them.
I recall the only borehole (“wanawana”) near the legendary baobab tree and market shrine in the Sandema market. When the public taps (which provided water only in the morning for about two hours each day) failed, the borehole was the only primary water source, apart from the few private wells. It was a busy place for crowds of people shoving one another, trying to fetch a few buckets of water. The giant acacia tree in front of the area now occupied by the Bucobank, under whose shade the omnibus (Avaameina, meaning collect everybody) from Bolgatanga plied almost hourly between Wiaga and Sandema has not escaped my memory, too.
All these places have been usurped by wooden kiosks and metal containers, which have been erected as stores for manufactured goods, mostly imported items from China, including plastic wares, bowls, cups, and toys. Buying and selling no longer seem possible without the ubiquitous black polythene bag as a container. Together with pure water sachets, these bags are often discarded indiscriminately on the ground after use, littering the town as waste and posing a serious sanitation and environmental hazard.
If people who lived and died in Bulsa in the 1970s or earlier were called back to life, they would be taken aback by all that they see. They would hardly find their way to popular houses in Sandema town at the time, Peter-yeri, Kwame-yeri, Anatey-yeri, Akunkuanab-yeri, Akisimi-yeri, Apam-yeri, Kazi-yeri, Abukari-yeri to mention some. They would be pleased that Sandema and most parts of Buluk now have electricity, and surprised that TV sets have become a common household item. While Sandema in the 1960s and early 1970s could boast of only a few passenger trucks, Gariba Adiita’s Benz bus with the inscription “No Condition is Permanent” and Abukari’s wooden truck (inscription “Don’t Mind the Body, Mind the Engine”). The one or other “waatonkyini”, which means “you’ve bought salt” in the Akan language, of a settler transport owner, there are numerous resident buses in Sandema today. Travelling to Navrongo or Bolgatanga is no longer dependent on the market days when transportation was available in these places. It is a daily routine today. Motorbikes have overtaken bicycles as a standard means of transportation from one Bulsa village to the other, and the more the motorbikes, the more their accident casualties, partly due to recklessness and mainly due to the dire state of our roads, especially the Sandema, Wiaga, Gbedema, and Fumbisi roads. Above all, the “resurrected” would marvel at the numerous possibilities that information technology has brought into our daily lives, such as the internet, mobile smartphones, tablet computers, and MP3 players.
But I guess they [also] would probably not be able to hide their disappointment but ask why some things have remained unchanged and even gotten worse, for example, the tedious farming and food cultivation methods of our subsistence farmers, the pothole-infested roads, the collective irresponsibility of our people about sanitation and environmental protection, and in these context, public places of convenience and tree-planting and growing. While our town and village centres are littered with more waste and rubbish than in the 1970s and earlier, our record of regard and concern for environmental protection is nothing to write home about. A few trees have been added to those that line the road leading into Sandema town, Suwarinsa, and on the way to Wiaga. These trees were planted over 80 years ago during the reign of Sandemnaab Afoko (cf—the Beautiful Canopies of Trees in Sandema, Buluk 7- link!!]. Today, we are happy to be protected by their shade, and seeing their beautiful canopies is an attraction that gives Sandema a unique flair. The mighty “koksa” trees (dry zone mahogany, khaya senegalensis), are a generous legacy bequeathed to us by the generation of the colonial time.
The “resurrected” would probably also regret the near extinction of Bulsa traditional architecture as typified in the compounds with round thatched houses (diina). They would wonder why customary practices, such as funeral rites, have been so terribly diluted. The paradox is that in trying to be “modern” (Western), some aspects of Bulsa’s (Ghanaian, for that matter) social life today are neither Western nor traditionally Ghanaian, but a strange mixture and distortions of the two.
All the negatives notwithstanding, a significant development in the 1970s that needs mention at this juncture and whose results have given Bulsa society a legacy that posterity will value more than we seem to do today is the impact of the extensive anthropological research work undertaken by the Professor Dr Rüdiger Schott and Dr Franz Kröger (and to a lesser extent Dr Barbara Meier), and by relation the preservation of essential aspects of Bulsa culture and society.
The oral tradition, whereby traditional practices and customs are passed from generation to generation by word of mouth, cannot always be relied upon to maintain and preserve facts without diluting, forgetting, or losing them somewhere along the line. In this connection, the numerous publications by Schott and Kröger on Bulsa traditional cultural practices and society are invaluable sources of reference for everyone, as well as for research purposes. Kröger’s Buli-English Dictionary attempts to give Buli a standard orthography based on empirical research. Still, documenting the Buli language’s linguistic characteristics and structure further enriches Bulsa culture. To my knowledge, dictionary copies are available at the Wiaga Parish and North Bulsa District libraries.
Kröger has also made copies of his other publications and those of Prof. Schott available to Sandemnaab Azagsuk Azantilow II in the hope that they will be part of the materials that will go into establishing a Bulsa archive one day. I hope that the new chief, as an educationist and a historian, will make the archive idea a personal priority. I see the old stone block structure, which used to be Apoteba Primary School, located near the new traditional council grounds and venue for the main Feok [Fiok] Festival activities, as an ideal place for a Bulsa museum or archive. That building links the past with the present, one of the few stone buildings remaining from the colonial period. The old dispensary block (probably the modern hospital referred to in Meyer Fortes’ report) could still stand if it had not made way for a fire service building. That was an unfortunate decision for the district administration under Norbert Awulley, although the fire service department is improving infrastructure in Buluk. Rare historical structures like the old dispensary building should not have been demolished in the name of development and modernisation. They are preserved! Renovating the Apoteba stone-building structure for use as a Bulsa museum/archive should not be impossible for the people of Bulsa, and the sooner we take the matter seriously, the better.
The spirit of self-help saw our people planting trees along the road in the district capital and raising over 600 Pounds to provide themselves with a modern hospital in 1934, as reported in the diary of Sir Shenton Thomas, Governor of the Gold Coast. The diary also describes Mr and Mrs Meyer Fortes’ visit to Sandema that year. This spirit of self-help should not be lost; it should be even more assertive today, with people having more money than our ancestors did.
“Inspected station after the morning’s meeting. There is also a cool and good D. C.’s house and an excellent hospital built from funds (some £ 600) contributed by the people. Dr Vaugham, known for her good reputation, is in charge and has a sensible approach. At the entrance is an engraved slab of rock surrounded by large stones laid in cement, and the inscription states that each family who lost a man in the War brought a stone. It is as nice a War Memorial as could be imagined. Whittall (late Provincial Commissioner) built the station and planted trees along the roads. He has left his mark in the Northern Territories far more than I had ever imagined. Good goal [jail] and police lines, rest house, Medical Officer’s house, etc.” (cf. Franz Kröger: Extracts from the Diary of Sir Shenton Thomas, Governor of the Gold Coast – Meyer Fortes in Bulsaland (1934).
THE THIRD GENERATION
The bulk of the third generation of educated Bulsa consists of young people born in the 1980s, who attended secondary school in the 1990s, and who completed their tertiary education in the early 2000s. While their immediate predecessors are already grandparents or approaching retirement, the older members of the third generation are beginning to step out into life, pursuing careers and starting their own families. Its potential and impact on Bulsaland are yet to be seen, and its members and their children’s generation will be better judges. The observations here are personal. They are the generation that has never really been caught up in the profound political and social upheavals that come with violent regime change and coup d’états. They grew up knowing Rawlings as Ghana’s elected head of state. They live in both good and bad times. The good times are the increased comforts of civilisation that have been enhanced by the technological advancements of the last twenty years, the computer and the internet.
The advantages of the internet, viewed intellectually, include the possibility for both self-improvement and self-retardation. While Google, Wikipedia, and social networking offer numerous opportunities in the former, Facebook, WhatsApp, and co can lure many into the latter. The latter social media are adept at masking disadvantages as advantages. It takes a careful Facebook and WhatsApp user’s sharpness of mind not to fall for the tantalising baits thrown into their waters. Reading habits, especially among children and adolescents, are changing fast from good to evil, even though it has long been established as an indisputable fact that cultivating the habit of reading in early education fosters good language acquisition and creative thinking. Who cares about serious subjects when there is easier and more entertaining stuff to read or see in the millions of posts and funny videos that plaster the walls of Facebook pages or go viral on WhatsApp? And why struggle to write correct grammar and spelling if one is not in the exam room? Why meet up with friends when it is faster to “WhatsApp” one another? Why bother to think and be creative when the eyes have more entertaining things to watch in the countless “funny videos” or read mind-dulling gossip stories fed onto the display of mobile phones or computer screens? And who cares about traditional storytelling and its recreational and didactic functions today, when smartphones and computers have more “interesting” and handy entertaining games and programs? How many young people today know and can tell some of our folktales (sunsuelima) from beginning to end with success? The threat of their extinction is real!
The new media is the mark of the present generation, the whole world over, especially in social networking and entertainment, and the third generation of educated Bulsa is no exception in that regard. Smartphones, tablet computers, iPods, MP3 players, and various imaginable technological gadgets are favourite acquisitions. The more the income, the longer the list, extending to cars, modern houses furnished in fanciful, fashionable Western-style and acquired habits that are often a drain on the pocket: the forfeitable wedding dress, three-piece suit, and mountain-high cake, the birthday that must be celebrated, not forgetting the expensive funeral with its many phases (one week, wake-keeping, burial, thanksgiving, first anniversary, the billboard and tribute flyers….).
While many in the second generation have genuinely improved their lives through education, good jobs, and hard work, many more [of the third generation] seek to have eventual riches and a comfortable life without wiping a brow and tend to join in corrupt practices and fraudulent deals (internet fraud) to make such dreams come true. They cannot be blamed much anyway. In a country where state institutions are mostly nominal and lack authority, a young person can suddenly rise to a better social status and enjoy a comfortable life through political connections, appointment, or election to parliament. Genuine hard work does not seem to yield rapid results for a better life—all these point to an ailing system that needs intensive therapy and attention.
Bulsa social network groups that have emerged in the third generation of educated Bulsa, thanks to the new social media, Facebook, face daunting challenges about the development of Buluk and in the attempt to remind their members about their individual and collective social responsibility. While self-improvement is a cherished value, collective effort, as reflected in the common Buli slogan, zurugaluu lam kan be (translated roughly to mean “together we will not lose the meat”), complements the status of personal success.
The first generation’s time is up, and the second generation’s time is running out. However, time can never run out for efforts to reduce poverty, ignorance, and illiteracy in Buluk. These efforts need to be viewed as ongoing processes that are taken up and strengthened by each generation, with the older generation passing the baton to the younger generation.
The mission of helping to bring about development in Buluk for the welfare of our people, in the social, cultural, economic, and psychological contexts, may seem obvious and therefore accepted on the surface as a foregone conclusion. However, identifying and upholding it as each Bulsa’s part in social responsibility demands more than verbal identification with the mission. It must be identified and acknowledged by members of each generation and fulfilled in concrete terms, however minimal the result may be. Our people say mag mag alaa yig waung jiok (it is by stalking step by step that you will succeed in catching the monkey’s tail). The wisdom in that saying applies to our collective efforts. Betraying the mission of people in “relative opacity”, whether by intention or sheer lethargy, should never be allowed to be an option. If the first and second generations mistakenly believed the central government would bring Buluk the needed social and economic development, the changing times and economic and social circumstances in the 2000s point in the direction of people taking their destinies into their hands and bringing about the development government (our politicians) promised but failed to deliver, but which are within the means of the people themselves. Even then, a better lobby as a people and more commitment from leadership can get the government to support capital-intensive projects like providing a teacher’s training college, upgrading the road or installing irrigation facilities in South Bulsa’s fertile valleys. Our social media groups need to keep this goal in mind. They must constantly remind themselves about the possibilities within their reach and make the most of them, which are often overlooked for convenience’s sake.
However, the modest efforts and achievements of our social media groups, to name the more active ones, need to be commended: Bulubisa Meina Yeri (BMY), Bulsa Development Network (BD-Net), Buluk in Focus (BIF), Bulsa Radio FM, Akanlukchaab Bulubisa / Wiaga FC United, to mention the major ones.
The third generation, as typified in these social media groups, whether they have a big or small membership and are active on Facebook, bears the mantle of the work of both the pioneer and second generations. They should continue any legacies left by these two generations. The following summarised reviews of the activities of our current social media groups should not be seen in a ranking order. The groups are not to compete with one another in achievement. Nevertheless, their respective approaches to development issues in Bulsa need to be contemplated in retrospect. I hope comments that may seem negative at first glance will be considered constructive criticism upon sober reflection.
Bulubisa Meina Yeri (BMY)
The biggest Bulsa social media group in terms of number of members, BMY had to make the unpleasant experience of wading through turbulent waters in the initial stages of its formation. Some of its vocal members would not accept the group’s decision not to allow the discussion of partisan political matters. They would not take BMY’s censorship of comments lacking decorum, the group’s objection to using aggressive and insulting language in posts and discussions and vilifications of people perceived as Buluk wreckers. Matters came to a head in April 2014 when the Sandema Secondary School girls’ dormitory issue arose. While some cool-headed members of the loosely coordinated team pleaded for caution and careful investigation into the matter to find out what went wrong and who to blame, and demand the completion of the abandoned project, the “revolutionaries” in the team would not have any of these. In their view, the contractor awarded the project was “guilty”, and they demanded revolutionary justice à la June 4th, 1979, be meted out to him. Paradoxically, none had seen the contract documents or sought statements from the respective signatories. They based their judgment solely on what they had heard from people who were as clueless as they were and still are about the contract terms, the reasons for the project’s abandonment, and which of the parties involved in the contract was responsible for the mess. Our senior brother and former attorney-general, Martin Alamisi Amidu, ace journalist Manasseh Azure Awuni, and undercover investigator Anas Ameyaw Anas would not be successful in the fight against corruption if they only drew their conclusions, passed arbitrary judgment and demanded AFRC-style (Armed Forces Revolutionary Council) justice for perceived culprits. It takes a vigilant people to have the leverage of strong institutions to fight and reduce corruption. Aggression and indiscipline won’t stop corruption.
The Sandema Secondary School girls’ dormitory matter and the infighting that resulted weakened BMY briefly, but it survived the storm. It is said that storms cause oak trees to take deeper roots. How true! BMY is a quieter group today, and it is very focused on its social activities. Despite the turbulent beginning and the storms that hit it midway through its journey, the group has done marvellously well for an amorphous group run by a handful of cool-headed diehards, and without a stable source of financing, depending only on the contributions of a few members to carry out its programs. Its modest achievements in health care promotion and education since its formation in 2010 have been quite significant [“modest” and “quite significant” is a contradiction]: two successful medical outreach programs in five villages, two sets of vacation classes, guidance and counselling in our senior secondary schools and donations of learning and teaching materials to primary, junior and senior secondary schools among others. These selfless efforts need to be applauded.
Bulsa Dvelopment [Development] Network (BD-Net)
Very silent in terms of Facebook activity, BD-Net prefers to be loud in action. The group’s modest achievements include the following: provision of a borehole to a Bulsa South village community; supporting a nursery school there with learning materials and talking [taking] over the payment of the nursery schoolteacher’s salary for a year as well as donating bicycles to children to reduce the long distances they must cover on foot to go to school. According to one of its coordinating members, more bicycles are on the way for donation to even more children before the end of the year (2014).
Akanlukchaab Bulubisa/Wiaga United FC
Founded in 2008, the founders and management of the twin group have gone to the rescue of some of our youth from the subtle threat of alcohol and narcotic abuse that is often caused by unemployment and idleness (cf. Football and Youth Development in Buluk: The Case of Wiaga United Football Club, by Evans Akangyelewen Atuick, Buluk 7). May he continue to rest in peace.
Playing for a relatively well-managed club recognised by the Ghana Football Association (GFA) boosts the self-esteem of young players who aspire to play professional football one day. A special highlight of the club was hosting Kumasi Asante Kotoko at the Bolga Stadium in December 2012. Though it lost narrowly, the team fought well and impressed the porcupine warriors! When I visited the club at its training grounds at Wiaga St. Martin’s Secondary School in October 2013, I was impressed by the players’ motivation and the enthusiasm of its fans and supporters. I appreciate how management systematically develops its talents. The club has players aged between ten and twenty-two. It has the character of a football academy, even though it lacks the facilities for such a sporting outfit. The coach and the management team emphasise schoolwork, general discipline, and good behaviour in and away from the football field.
Bulsa Radio FM (105.6)
Radio Bulsa has attained almost cult status in Buluk. It is the voice of the people, for the people, and by the people, informing, communicating (educating), and entertaining its listeners across Buluk. Regularly featuring the songs of traditional Bulsa musicians has boosted the interest in music and songs produced in the Buli language. Discussion rounds hosted by the station give people a voice and keep them informed about policies adopted by the district assemblies and administrations. It is also used to mobilise people for communal events like cleaning exercises or promote campaigns against the sale of alcohol in homes, while educating people on the health hazards of alcohol and narcotic abuse.
Buluk in Focus
As a new group, and a break-away group from BMY for that matter, Buluk in Focus (BIF) is still in the process of finding itself and defining its real purpose, if comments by some of its members are to be considered and taken seriously:
“It seems there is more talk on here than action! We’ve always outlined the problems, but the solution gets less attention.”
“Pls let us be serious and focused on issues of common interest rather than dancing to no tune (gogloari). Staying this long on this trivial issue obfuscates our main agenda and amounts to a dilly dally thereof.”
Buluk Kaniak
A breakaway group started by two Bulsa based in Finland, Buluk Kaniak has not gone beyond long-winded discussion of issues relating to Bulsaland on Facebook. Characteristically controversial and intolerant of contrary opinions, Buluk Kaniak is a talk shop and an informal news agency at best. Unlike Bulubisa Meina Yeri (BMY), which used to engage in social work, such as annual medical outreach programs, donating teaching materials to schools and organising remedial classes for Junior and Senior High School students, Buluk Kaniak is visible only on social media.
In his book, Is This Why Africa Is?” UK-based Ghanaian author Marricke Kofi Gane, focuses on the detrimental effects of indiscipline by stating the following:
“Maybe, then Africa [Ghana and Buluk, my interpolations] will begin to turn out for the better, or maybe not. I do not know. I know that indiscipline at any level only has the power to diminish our good efforts and multiply our inefficiencies where they exist. You be the judge.”
Indiscipline often wears a different garment to suit the context in which it seeks to cause havoc. BIF will learn valuable lessons from the short history of the Bulsa Youth Association, which stumbled down with the intrusion of partisan politicking (a form of indiscipline) in its ranks. I also hope the young group will see reason in BMY’s position for critical analysis instead of emotionalism because “everything can be explained to the people, on the single condition that you want them to understand.” (Frantz Fanon). Indeed, understanding issues in context seldom goes with throwing tantrums and appealing to emotions; however, we are outraged by things that offend our sense of justice. Understanding comes with the power of reflection. Our youth need to be empowered to engage in critical thinking, sharing and exchanging opinions with one another based on the results of that mental process.
To “speak up for Buluk ” in discussions of development efforts in Buluk, one must be cool-headed, persevering, patient, able to accept criticism, and practice self-criticism.
If “Buluk must rise,” her active players, the senior players, must learn to resist the temptation to “speak up” for Bulsa people who feel a sense of absolute entitlement and complacency in their self-righteousness.
If “Buluk must rise”, our active players, the senior members in this case, should exhibit leadership qualities and show, through active examples, what they can do for Bulsa instead of talking too much on social media. Going to the rooftop to shout out one’s identity as a “proud Bulsa” or trumpeting one’s concern for disadvantaged Bulsa is nothing special. A tiger does not need to shout out its “tigritude”, as Soyinka puts it. The nature of its being naturally shows. It acts.
If “Buluk must rise”, then her active players must learn to see her cause as sacred, a cause and course to be pursued without expectation of reward from outside, other than the derivation of personal satisfaction of having been helpful in one way or another in the development of our people.
With members of the second generation approaching the autumn of their lives, the pool of Bulsa human resource base (database) being proposed and mentioned in our editorial will address, more specifically, members of the third generation of educated Bulsa. They have more time to try to reinvent the past, blend it with the present and map out the way for the future. But while there is still life, both second and third generations will have to work together, and I may re-echo a question Christiana Ankaasiba Akpilima-Atibil poses in an article entitled Making a Living, Making a Life! “What will your legacy be?” Yes indeed, what legacy can, and shall, we, individually and collectively, bequeath to the generation of our children and grandchildren and their children? “It is never too early to reflect on this question”, Christiana Ankaasiba Akpilima-Atibil asserts.
The following quotation from Frantz Fanon (The Wretched of the Earth) may help us reflect on our individual and collective roles as a people: “Each generation must discover its mission, fulfil it or betray it, in relative opacity.” There is work to be done, and each generation has a mission to fulfil. Hopefully, the youth will face this reality head-on.
The First Generation of Educated Bulsa (teachers)
Surname First names Town/village of origin highlight
Gariba Abu Sandema
Asueme Gilbert Wiaga First Bulsa to attend Achimota School
Ayomah Robert Wiaga
Amoak Leander Wiaga
Awulley Abonbinanya Wiesi
Asoalla George Adansegri Kanjaga
Angabe Amaami Kanjaga
Azantilow John Atiriba Sandema
Salaam J.A.
Atiim George Aseblanya Kanjaga
Ayikoruk Herbert Siniensi
Akanko Amaaboro Wiaga
Agalga Abianab Bernard Chuchulga
Akoalimjam Kunde Akan-nue Kadema
Asangalisa Margaret Akalkame Fumbisi
Kanbonaba Ataatoo Fumbisi
Kanbonaba Baako Fumbisi
Adangabey Akanyaaniung Kadema
Adangabey Edward Kadema
Anyuisah Peter Anab Kanjaga
Anabeeta
Ayaric Eric Akanpaanab Gbedema
Mallam Fuseini Kanjaga
Abakisi Ben Sandema
Abakisi Brown Sandema
Adiita Raphael Agriwan Sandema
Afulang Philip Siniensi
Abinansa Luke Kanjaga
Akuri Anagela Chuchuliga
Azinab Thompson Akaboka Wiaga
Azinab Apeemalie Mary Wiaga
Amaakabe Angela Siniensi
Abakisi Mrs Angabe Elizabeth Sandema
Azantilow Abaanankame Margaret Sandema
Akanko Ayuekanbey Fumbisi
Akanbonsa Bawa
Achumboro Apiinab Eric
Asamoaning Cabbage Fumbisi
Asikisimi Paul Doninga
Anyigmidu Edmond Doninga
Ayeng Paul Fumbisi
Azinab Agumi Herbert Wiaga
Other public servants
Ayuekanbey Assibi Wiaga Banker
Anala Paul Siniensi Administrator Officer
Ayamka Charles Wiaga Administrative Officer
Akanko Yaw Ajapisim Wiaga Veterinary officer
Akanko Henry Wiaga Director of Agriculture
Akanbodiipo Azuelie Lydia Sandema former MP
Afoko Akantigsi Sandema former MP
Afoko Francis Asianab Sandema Police officer /Businessman
Akanbong Dr. Fumbisi Trade and tourism
Mahamudu Tamale Fumbisi Director of Fishing Corporation
Seidu Kweku Sandema Engineer
Akoalimjam Seidu Kadema Agric Officer
Azantilow Atampugri Nicolas Sandema
Azenab Peter Anayang Wiaga First Bulsa Catholic priest
Ataarem Julius Wiaga Medical Officer
Anisomyaansah Ben Anab Siniensi Magistrate
Adjingboruk Syme Anbeawai Siniensi Director of Agriculture
Alfa (Brig.) Akumasi Kadema Military
Achaab (Major) Roger Kadema Military
Kanbonaba Mrs Ayaric Patricia Azumah Fumbisi Postal Agent (first female Bulsa secondary school student)
Apam Ayaafinyadi Bachonsa Registrar of Local Concil
Atuire John Sandema Senior Nurse
Akanjambudai J.K. Kanjaga Clerk of council
Akanbong Dantes Atuidem Doninga Medical officer
Awenjaab Akanpaawen Daniel Gbedema Agric officer
Akapame Edmund Gbedema Public Health Officer
Akaboka Humphrey Amgasikpesi Siniensi Local Council Officer
Akisikpak Remy Wiaga Director of Agriculture
Awogta Patrick Wiaga Local Council Clerk
Sulley Moses Mahama Wiaga Principal Health Inspector
Afoko Akanjepung Peter Sandema Local Authority Council
Azantilow Amaabilinsa Sandema
Whittal Gerald Sandema
Akanligpare Wiaga Police