This story is of a young Ghanaian girl; Kabuki who is suffering an extreme case of depression because she cannot live her dreams; which is to exploit all of her potentials and experience the kind of freedom others like herself enjoy in other developed countries; is frustrated and disappointed because Ghana is facing deep unlimited challenges that directly affect her and her inability to live her life and she sees no sign of these problems going away anytime soon.
Her uncountable attempts at living her dreams at all cost through time, draws her to the painful realization of various challenges that limit her growth in Ghana leaving her broken in faith with a deep threat to throw her dreams to the curb.
Despite the decade of research work combined with her proposed solutions, she is always turned away by the units that matter and taken for granted by the people who have what it takes to help her situation. On her journey to discover what it takes to develop potentials, she encounters millions of Ghanaians holding on to broken dreams and defining wrong outlets to pour their frustrations.
One sleepless and frustrated night, she wakes up in tears and pours out her heart on paper to her Psychologist. She pinpoints her personal opinion on problems in Ghana, analyzes them and offers strategies to combat the challenges.
Wipe my tears, O Ghana is a wakeup call to our leaders, political parties and influencers of society. It is time we all pause, reflect and take a critical look at what the needs of the people in the nation are which is the only ingredient required to grow the nation.
|Product dimensions:||5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.26(d)|
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Kabuki, a young Ghanaian girl has been pursuing her life desires for ages with no hope? This desire is her wishes to exploit all of her potentials and experience the life of freedom others like herself enjoy in other developed countries? She is frustrated, disappointed and pushed to the wall because her country Ghana seems to have settled for mediocrity which directly affects her and her dream life? Needing to do something about it so she can have her dream, she takes over a decades' life long journey to find out why Ghana's atmosphere is so unsupportive of people and their dreams?
On her journey, she encounters millions of Ghanaians like herself holding on to broken dreams and defining wrong outlets to channel their frustrations? She agrees she is not alone, serves as their source of hope and surges on in pursuit of her dream?
She identifies various challenges that cause such limited growth in Ghana yet is unable to implement because of the unsupportive environment she finds herself; needing to know someone before you are granted listening ear, greasing palms before consideration, throwing out your request; getting nothing done because you won't compromise your standards ... After her many attempts at solving, she is left broken in faith with a deep threat to throw her dreams to the curb but can she? The desire is too inherent to ignore?
On one sleepless and frustrated night, stuck, and at a complete loss to her next move with a threatening attempt of suicide on her mind, she wakes up in tears and pours out her heart to her leaders informing of her views on human resource developmental challenges identified in Ghana which she has analyzed and offers strategies to combat them as the only way to see light to her dream and that of the millions like herself? She believes if this is happening in Ghana, then it is happening in most other countries and individuals are suffering?
Wipe My Tears, O Ghana
Wipe my tears, O, Ghana to Kabuki, is that wakeup call to national leaders, political parties, influencers of society, the people and those who matter to pause, reflect and take a critical look at those actual factors that serve as root barriers to national development which when traced would point to investment in developing any nation's human resource to develop national potential?
Ghana is no developed nation because national potential is undeveloped? National potential is undeveloped because people are not developed? People are not developed because they (human Resources) are not regarded as priority? They are not seen as priority because leaders have its focus and priorities mixed up? Real talk! If it did not, we would first, not be having this conversation and second, the remedy for eliminating poverty and unemployment would not be collecting dust on my shelves for years because of unsupportive systems!! Anyway, I am not here to attack leaders because we the people ourselves are major causes of our own plight?
Development rises and falls on people, yet, we the people have become so accustomed to self-destructive mechanisms that push us away from success rather than draw us close? Like crabs, we focus on building wrong strategies to pull each other down rather than help each other up? An attempt at success therefore in Ghana is easy target for sabotage?
Knowing how easy it is for an individual standing on a table to be pulled down by a multitude on the ground, I stand in tears wailing for my brothers and sisters who gave up on their dreams and settled; those coming up with dreams, and more, for those who still stand like myself, broken yet refusing to let go of what we all know would be our pot of abundance someday yet having no idea when that "someday" would be?
Though we know our problems and wish to help ourselves, we are deep in our sin of blinded ignorance and a mindset that takes from us than adds? We are so stuck in old habits that work against us and the only way to see "people development" in Ghana is when we can break our wrong foundation; standards, priorities, mentalities, values, culture??? and rebuild a new one by a focus on learning to unlearn and relearn ...
WIPE MY TEARS, O, GHANA
"My name is Kabuki. I woke up one morning mad at the world, at my situation, with my family, friends and everyone around me. Everything around me was in shambles; my life, my room, my career even my hair. Being a supposed perfectionist, it had to be either perfect or not at all. Because perfect is expensive, my bedroom which was such a dream room and enviably the best looking room in the whole house is now the dwelling place for rodents, always an eyesore and such a mess. I am an extremist with the wow factor on both ends whether good or bad so, I leave your imagination to run extremely wild ...
... to the uncleaned bathroom and toilet, dirty floor rugs all over the room, dirty clothing thrown across every inch of space, books scattered across the bed and floor, dirty linen in weird corners, unfolded washed clothing dumped in the sofa seat from across the bed mixed with the used ones, empty water bottles spluttered across everywhere; on the lamp post, under the bed, in my clothing, unwashed plates from days ago, cluttered sheets of paper on my desk, among my books, clean and dirty shoes mixed with everything else everywhere, opened suitcases filled with washed and unwashed clothing littering the floor, bedlinen both dirty and clean draping in wrong places ... such an eyesore, pink bathing towel looking almost brown, window nets covered in thick dirt, window sill and frames, caked in dust, the floor covered in rain-dirt-splashed-yet-I-shall-not-clean-spills, ceiling covered in cobwebs, broken fan hanging, dirt-decorated curtains hanging yet forgotten, mosquitoes flying in every corner, moth infested room, flat screen tv, covered in total dust and my bed, the bed I sleep in; mattress torn, in tatters and full of holes, bedsheets too dirty to describe, pillow case, eeew!, bedspread, blankets causing itches from being too dirty and o, let's not go under my bed just yet.
Too much information already. My life is in bad taste and in shambles. This is my daily addiction, my daily grind and the phobia I cannot control. This is why I am so mad! Mad cos' I cannot change it! And I can't change it 'cos it is too petty to be expensive and I won't afford!
I know I am living in filth yet I cannot clean after myself. I have tried and God knows how long I have tried being clean yet I've never got it right. Why? Because, I just can't. It's not that I don't know how but I just can't. After a pretty long while from trying too hard, I have come to conclude that maybe, I don't know how. Even if I did know how, maybe it is simply not in my genes to do it or else I don't have the capacity to solve my problem. Meanwhile, in the corner of this descriptive room lies my broom, my mop, my floor bucket, a tall list of scents and smells forgetting not the detergent and dusters. What is my excuse? None!!! So ask me again what limits me from getting my room back to the standard I desire of it ...? No accurate answer, just probabilities ...
So I think, like before, maybe, cleaning after myself has been too petty an activity to be expensive and I refused to afford it! I guess I invested way too much time in trying to build my dream, I didn't think about the little things in my life. I couldn't sacrifice cedi time for pesewa time and I didn't make enough plans to cater for such need. (more because I never saw it as priority) Maybe, no one believed in me enough to urge me on and if they did, it was not enough to want to help me clean after myself while I figured my life out. Maybe, I channeled all of my energy and resources into proving a point (which I'm still struggling to prove) and I guess cleaning after myself became way too much sacrifice for which now has become my lifestyle. But for real, such need to me is really too petty to be expensive. I can't afford!
There's also that part of me that silently thinks perhaps, I grew to a point where I've always felt too big to be the one to clean after my own self. And why not? I live in my parents' big mansion of 10 bedrooms where daddy prides himself on constantly accommodating family relations. They just keep walking in and out of my home and life like I don't matter. It was always my suppressed pain because I couldn't express myself nor offer my opinion on such matters lest I was called mean or insensitive. I had to rather adjust myself to accommodate their needs and comfort and that truly robbed me of the kind of privacy a nuclear family deserved, the kind of freedom I wish I could have had as a child and a daughter. Why? Because, my ways were always measured, critiqued and judged unfairly to these ungrateful "housemates" and I always had to compromise. My parents always did their best to take care of us all by buying extra food, providing shelter, pocket money and education which robbed me of the extra chicken thighs, daily box juice, the no-sharing-of-my-room syndrome, the no extra dress for you this season, new technology, plane ticket kinda stuff which got me mad most times. I had needs and no one really cared.I guess my needs were too petty to be expensive and they just couldn't be afforded!So to me, these relatives; they owed me! The daughter of the owner of the house? They owed me and they, in my mind, should be responsible for keeping my room and every other part of the home for that matter, clean! If I'm sleeping in such filth, I chose to blame it on them and not me!"
I'm sure you are thinking I'm a spoilt brat with a messed up mindset, a lazy freak with such self-destructive programming and truth is you are right but don't draw conclusions yet else you may shoot yourself in the foot? Just be objective?
This picture I just painted of myself gives you an idea of the kind of challenge I observe Ghana to be facing putting Ghana in my shoes. We have all we need to bring desired change to us but what stops us? You and I as individuals, we are alike in various aspects of our lives. We are living in filthy problems we don't even know where to start solving them from. We cry for change yet we hold on to the most flimsy of excuses that robs us of the necessary changes we desire. We look everywhere but ourselves for the change we constantly cry for. We suffer all manner of phobia that limit us in achieving expected results. Meanwhile the change we cry for is very much within our power to have but we allow the mind; a powerful tool that can make or unmake us to serve as the barrier to our expected change. Yet, a strong part of ourselves which feels too big to do the menial stuff think these needs are to petty to be expensive for which we shall not even budget for so we leave the little activities we need to do to get done to out things in their proper places undone. On top of it all, we seem to be the hospitable nation that sacrifices the needs of the people to satisfy others therefore, the people are constantly starved and feel others owe it to us to make our nation a better place. We feel the government should take blame for nonperformance and get others to do the menial jobs because they owe us? Really? Well, this, is the phobia. The Ghana phobia.
Phobia is our kind of disease. It comes in various forms and everyone catches a piece of it here and there. While it could be anything from fear of poverty, to heartbreak, to disappointment, fear of snakes or ghosts, Ghana's phobia is connected to chaos and disorder, the mindset and a typical misunderstanding of leadership drive and as an individual living in Ghana, I see disorder of my life, family, country and everything in it. Disorder of elections, politics and governance. I see chaos and disorder running through the course of everything that matters to me in my life. Every four years, I get seizure because like always, I have to go through the painful cycle of having my mum (Ghana) divorce, remarry a step-dad (political party) and painfully watch while they have to allocate too much resources to trying to acquaint with my supposed needs which they never are able to meet anyway because they have no idea how or what it is. So when I tell you I suffocate constantly in the midst of fresh air, I am not blowing smoke. It is simply real!
I feel I go through the painful cycle of watching my mum get me a new step father who has no idea where to start from on what we both need. This robs me off so much. Every four years, I have to wear a new identity, lose myself, my identity, my dreams and desires, ambition, my joys of life, my business' fate, my groundings all because it is dependent on whether I love this step dad or not. Just imagine what can be done in four years? My business, my marriage, my children, my education can turn four years old which is absolutely something to count for.
You see, I am an individual who see myself as very privileged in more ways than one. I was born in a very excellent environment in Ghana. I lived in good places based on my parent's work schedules. My fate took me to the best schools in the country right from my kindergarten days all the way through tertiary. I have been blessed with much more than the average. I have experienced both good and bad, seen much that my young age can possibly permit. Talk on the bad times too, I've been there with nothing to eat in a day, living at the mercy of others and dancing to silly tunes to be favored. I've encountered and friended people through whose eyes, I observe how the poor survive. In their shoes, it's very offensive and not funny when they have to raise their heads from below to see how they are regarded as "not counted among the living", plus they have painfully observe things done at the top to favour themselves without considering the needs of those below.
I am well-endowed physically, spiritually and emotionally. Talk of intelligence and I can easily find my spot. Indeed, I count myself very privileged and for that matter a candidate allergic to failure. I have no excuse to sing a failure song. I have no excuse to not be counted among the most successful, the most influential, the most confident, the most innovative, even beautiful or most creative. In fact I have no excuse to not fall among the most whatever that matters in life yet, here I am, sitting in my dark room with a broken identity, broken finances, broken spirit, physically broken in all ways almost beyond repair hiding from the prying eyes of society whose standards you are disappointing. I have lost myself and my identity, holding nothing to my name except multi-million dollar creative ideas which makes me a laughing stock because of ignorance on the part of the unwise who cannot recognize it for the mountain of gold and barrels of diamond it is worth. Wisdom is better than strength yet, this same wisdom without resources makes you ignored and uncounted among the many. The Bible's Eccl 9:1-16 says ... 14 There was a small city with few men in it and a great king came to it, surrounded it and constructed large siege works against it. 15 But there was found in it A POOR WISE MAN and he delivered the city by his wisdom. Yet no one remembered that poor man. 16 So I said, "Wisdom is better than strength." But the wisdom of the poor man is despised and his words are not heeded
A multitude of great ideas and potential therefore, with a broken account only declares foolishness so if I cannot transform all these great ideas, great potentials into wealth just like my own country, then Ghana and I, we are no different. We are wise yet foolish and as broke as the word can go. That is how I see the state of Ghana. All available resources yet broke to the core on all counts.
Forgive some harsh and wrong choices of words but the point of my argument based on my personality introduction is this ... People are suffering in Ghana through no fault of theirs, people are stuck in situations they are helpless to come out from, people are living their lives in cycles they do not like but are helpless to break, the nation is living its life based on the deterrents of political parties whose fate is determined every four years based on agendas and motives that may have no progressive influence over its individuals.
Though I find myself in such unacceptable situation, I deem myself more privileged than most because I struggle to keep myself from sinking and manage, (and that word must be qualified) to keep it together. At least, I am still sane. Millions of Ghanaians out there are responding negatively to the very ailment I am going through. While some have practically gone mad, are suffering weird diseases and disorders, have become armed robbers, prostitutes and social misfits, have opted for suicide as the only option, are locked up in mental institutions because they have lost their sense of reasoning, others have infiltrated into the fabric of our society, have risen to leadership levels and are influencing wrong doctrines as a result of their wrong channel of outlet. Oga, we all don craze o. Na clinic we never don enter.
Excerpted from "Wipe My Tears, O Ghana"
Copyright © 2017 Laura Kathleen K. Lawson.
Excerpted by permission of Trafford Publishing.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION, 1,
CHAPTER 2: KABUKIE'S THEORY, 5,
CHAPTER 3: WIPE MY TEARS, O, GHANA, 7,
CHAPTER 4: WHY THE NEED FOR CHANGE, 21,
CHAPTER 5: WHAT IS WRONG WITH GHANA, 25,
CHAPTER 6: WHAT THE NATION NEEDS, 41,
CHAPTER 7: WHAT THE PEOPLE NEED, 53,
CHAPTER 8: WHAT IS THE STRATEGY, 75,