Tema Motorway so much reflects the state of Ghana

Yesterday evening, as I drove on the Tema Motorway to Accra for a meeting of literary people, as I drove on the dark stretch and as I dogged craters wrongly described as potholes, my mind reflected, yet again, on how the Tema Motorway so much reflects the state of Ghana for me.

It reinforced my stance that I can only believe that Ghana is working again when I see streetlights working on the motorway, at night, for more than 6 months.

“The Tema Motorway will be expanded into a 6-lane motorway by…” is a headline that has been repeated over the last decade so many times by politicians of various colours, heights and shapes that I have lost count. Yet we are where we are. Deadlines on wheels.

When I drive on the Tema Motorway, I think too much about Ghana. But even that thinking is not without wahala as I have to be alert and dodge potholes or watch for shadows at night that appear from nowhere to cross the motorway.

When I drive on the Tema Motorway, I get mad at our failures as a nation to maintain and improve what was bequeathed to us years ago.

When I drive on the Tema Motorway, I lose hope in Ghana. I am a very optimistic person but the Tema Motorway always kills my spirit.

When I use the Tema Motorway, I get angry at our leaders and I ask myself whether the democracy we are practising will give us the development we desire.

When I use the Tema Motorway, I am reinforced in my belief that we don’t need more politics, like voting to have more politics at the local levels. What we need is for our leaders to promise less and to deliver on the little they promise. To mean what they promise. To believe what they say. For, what is the use of pouring more water into a barrel whose bottom is leaking? We don’t need more politics – we need more of good and accountable governance and judicious use of our resources.

When I use the Tema Motorway, it makes me wonder whether I should even vote again.

When I use the Tema Motorway, I get worked up so much that I wake up early on Sunday morning to write such long epistles as my soul mourns for my nation and its leaders.

When I use the Tema Motorway.

 

Columnist: Nana Awere Damoah