chapter 7: chop chop!

as another steamy day dawns in ghana, neighbours and strangers alike are greeting eachother, i`m preoccupied with thoughts of the day's work, and somewhere, everywhere in fact, the sleazy engine of corruption is kicking into high gear. yes, it's another average day in the land with a gift for the casual grift.

corruption and bribery has been a big part of the scintillating debate leading up to next year`s presidential election, and it`s not hard to tell why. from the highest levels of government right down to the mundane aspects of life we take for granted in canada, people are being greased in return for looking the other way, or simply doing their jobs.

recently, a road that connects my house with my route to work was the scene of a small bridge collapse, adding 20 minutes to my commute and worsening kumasi's dreaded rush hour traffic snarls. the local department in charge of contracting the repair work promised the road would re-open in two months. three weeks later, a huge pile of dirt remains on the road, and the work hasn't even started.

standard operating procedure.

my ghanaian friends tell me not to hold my breath. contracts are often handed to ragtag outfits who are not qualified to carry out the work. as long as they pay off the right people, they can get the contract, pocket the cash and walk away. no fuss, no muss. as a result, ghana's infrastructure, customer service at government outlets and high level government business are all pathetically inefficient. every day, there are stories where a power-that-wannabe rails against the system and promises he will not stand for the rampant corruption so common under the government of the day.

yeah, right.

there are stories about politicians embezzling taxpayers money. There are stories about officials taking kickbacks from unscrupulous businessmen. and recently, all parties supported a motion to scrap a law that, in theory, seeks to prosecute officials who cause 'willful loss to the state”. way to be accountable guys!

despite all the rhetoric about stamping out corruption, ghanaians know better. it's a fact of life here. on the bumpy ride into work over rutted, pothole-filled roads, one of my luv fm colleagues casually asks me “have the police chopped you yet?” he's asking me if i've had to bribe the cops, in much the same tone we might ask, how's it goin', eh? they'll often stop people for no reason, then delay you until you pay them a fee to fuck off. i answer no, but i'm secretly disappointed i haven't had the experience. at about this time, in full view of a group of idle police officers, a driver idiotically decides to beat the slow-moving traffic, honking a warning as he travels the wrong way up the street. somewhere, death is sharpening his scythe and licking his lips, and the cops do nothing! instead, in very unsanta-like fashion, they're staring at license plates and checking them against a list of known licensing and vehicle import scofflaws who they can squeeze for some extra sugar.

as we sit in the serpentine line of painfully slow-moving cars, my companions point to a building slated for demolition since last year. the congested road badly needs to be widened, but the owner of the building apparently has ties to the presidents's office. so his building still stands, and we sit...and sit, and sit, and sit...

how can a poorly paid civil servant possibly house, clothe and feed a family of 8, plus help out his extended family? it's a riddle i've been pondering since i got here, but not any more. “we are magicians,” one of my car-mates sarcastically chortles.

chop chop, time is money!