Fear delegates, fear ghosts, fear justice? A spooky election reflection

The dust has settled on the 2024 parliamentary elections, leaving a trail of surprised faces and unexpected results. Many NPP MPs found themselves unseated, a stark reminder of the shifting tides of their supporters.

This outcome resonates with the words of the late Sir John, former General Secretary of the NPP. When he himself lost a position in an election within his party, he famously declared that people should fear delegates, asserting that human beings are the most fearful creatures, second only to ghosts.

Sir John’s words trigger a familiar chill, prompting reflections on the spectral realm. And that reminds me of a chilling ghost story.

Once upon a time, a young man devised a cunning scheme to secure free transportation. Armed with cotton wool and white gloves, he would hail a taxi at night and position himself comfortably in the back seat.

As they neared a cemetery on his route, he would discreetly don his gloves, insert the cotton wool into his nostrils, and tap the driver’s shoulder. In a nasal drone, he’d announce, “Driver, please I’ll alight here!” Terrified, the drivers, believing him to be a ghost, would abandon him and flee, forfeiting their fare.

This charade continued until the young man encountered a taxi driver who was, in fact, a ghost. The tables turned, and he learned a harsh lesson. He vowed never to cheat another driver, but the vengeful ghost driver wouldn’t let him rest. He was determined to avenge his fellow exploited drivers and prove that ghosts, indeed, possess substantial fortitude.

One fateful night, the young man struck a lucrative business deal. Flush with cash, he and a friend hailed a taxi. As he recounted his ghostly encounter to his companion, the taxi driver abruptly stopped the car. With cotton wool protruding from his nostrils, he turned to them and rasped, “Likadish?” (Like this?)

Panic seized the two friends. They ripped open the car doors and fled, abandoning their hard-earned money. The ghost driver, tragically killed in a motor accident which removed some of his teeth, spoke with a peculiar lisp, hence the mispronunciation of “like this” as “likadish.”

This spooky tale serves as a reminder that even the seemingly powerless can exact retribution. But the narrative takes a modern twist.

Interestingly, it seems the spectres of justice themselves are growing restless amidst the current CJ case. The assertion by Godfred Dame that the presence of Tsatsu and Sory representing the petitioners “speaks volumes” has apparently angered some ghosts. According to these spectral observers, Dame representing the defendant speaks even louder volumes. And they demand I ask him, “Likadish?”

The implication is clear: The integrity and fairness of the legal process are being scrutinised not just by earthly observers, but perhaps by forces beyond our comprehension.

This highlights the importance of transparency and accountability in our legal system. Just as the young man’s deceit caught up with him, any perceived injustice, any perceived manipulation of the system, will ultimately be judged, perhaps not in a courtroom, but in the court of public opinion – or even, according to the restless ghosts, by a higher, more spectral authority.

So, let us fear delegates, let us fear ghosts, and above all, let us fear the consequences of a system that fails to deliver justice. For the true horror lies not in the supernatural, but in the erosion of trust and the perversion of truth.

Anthony Obeng Afrane