REVIEW: Why we need more 'Abanga' in Ghana

The first time I watched Season 01 Episode 01 of “ABANGA – THE NEW GUY” dubbed “German burgar wahala” I was very impressed about it. I actually saved the video to watch it later in order to write a review on it. This movie /short film basically mirrors the kind of society we live in – Ghana is soaked in filth (if I am not exaggerating) and no one seems to care. We often preach cleanliness is next to godliness and practice its very opposite.  

On June 3^rd 2015, Ghana suffered a calamity which saw the death of over 100 people with just an explosion. One of the cause of the disaster, which was later known, was said to be the choked gutters in Accra. Our gutters especially in those the urban areas are chocked generally polythene and plastic products. In Ghana, gutters often serve as a rubbish dump which shouldn’t be so. The June 3^rd disaster opened our eyes to the hard truth that we need to change our attitude about how we disposed off waste. So in my view, this movie series ‘ABANGA – THE NEW GUY’ came in at the right moment.

The movie commences with the titular character, Abanga picking up pieces of waste left by some undisclosed people. Abanga stops after sometime and remarks ‘Enti me mia Ghana paa nie’ (translation: is this really my country Ghana). After doing his bid to get rid of filth, he goes to the main street only to see a German burgar throw an empty bottle to the bush from his private car. Abanga then confronts him and he later begs and promises to pick the bottle he threw away never to repeat the same mistake again.  

The synopsis of this movie is just what is happening in the country, the only difference is that we don’t have any Abanga (or very few Abanga to be ignored). It is highly convenient for someone to buy water from street hawkers and throw the sachet away on the street when one is done with it. We, Ghanaians are responsible for the flirt in our country.

I remember the last time I sat in a car with someone and he did exactly what the German burgar did and when I asked him why he did that, he replied me angrily ‘But isn’t it why I pay tax? The government must use my taxes to clean my filth.’ I was very sad because no matter how hard I tried, this man refused to listen to the voice of reason.  The sad aspect of it all is that he is only one in over twenty million examples we have in this country. To solve this canker, it is imperative that we change this kind of mentality that makes us throw rubbish around. What most people fail to realize is that most politicians live in highly neat and high class residential areas/facilities and we the normal Ghanaians are the ones who will bear the brunt of any effect of the indiscriminate throwing of rubbish. If we are to use all our taxes to clear the flit we make, what money will hence be left for development?

Further, we all know about the impact of movies on our mind. I believe we need more of ‘Abanga’ movies than ‘atopa shaking movies’, ‘sex movies’ and ‘unnecessary farce’ to educate the Ghanaian about the importance of keeping our environment clean.

To end, I believe strongly that if we don’t keep our environment clean, no politician will do it for us. Our environment is ours and if we destroy Ghana with flit, we will have nowhere else to go than to become slaves in other people’s countries.

 

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Volcano (Earth Quake)

 

The night always sing a dirge

While the wind plays the harpsichordist

Stroking lower baritones

To its own delight.

There is more;

The silent nights dance like heathen in the forest

But in all these bizarre nights

I stand and look.

 

There are nights

When I just want to pretend to be mad

Yet this idea seems too expensive to buy.

 

There are also nights

When tears leave me

And in grief there seem no replacement.

It is during these nights that

It becomes more apparent

That water and tears are different

Even when they share the same volume.

 

There are nights

When I feel the world is so surreal

That I rather am too practical

Even to a ghost!

During these nights,

I can walk through walls and tease the ghosts that haunts me

Because I know he can’t penetrate through these walls.

 

There are nights,

When there are not enough letters of the alphabets

To describe the pains in the sinking soul

These are the nights when

My worry is big enough to make the earth quake.

These nights, when my touch can cause a volcano.

 

 

 

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Volcano

 

 

The ground splits.

The air turns caustic;

With every air breathed

Dressed like a poisonous love.

 

All I hear are screaming

And all I see is people dying

Flashing lights

With the skies falling on me.

 

There I remembered

The book of Revelations

And how the old saint said

God was going to take his people away.

 

Sure I am no saint

For I have built my life of deceit

In the eyes of the world

Now it has shut them

Leaving me with nowhere else to look up to

What therefore I am

Is a mere hypocrite

Whose smiles are drenched in lethal roses.

 

But who do I run to

As the earth quakes

With people screaming for help?

 

I look at this moment

Like a kaleidoscope of memories

Swimming through the ocean

Like a leaked venom ready

To strike dead all fishes in the waters.

 

Opulence was the goal

But what shall it therefore profit

A man if he loses his soul

While chasing shadows of ghost?

 

Catharsis!

This is when you get drowned in your volcanic lies

With its molten magma burning you to death

With no hand to lift you up.

 

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Wine

 

Love is like a glass of wine

From the day your lips touch her lid

She strums your heart in delight

And you can't help but dance to her tune.

 

For in the dead of the night

Your senses die

Like you were born into a closed coffin

And when heartbreak comes to open the coffin,

To show you the realities of life,

Your whole world seems like

A funeral of your own

 

But cry not

The whole world is dazed with love's spell.

For every branch you touch,

Every leaf  that tickles your neck,

 

Makes love's noise,

Like that one that drizzles on you

 

The first time you drank love's wine.

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