I was at this morning, in my nativity, Goka in the Bono Region of Ghana, following developments in the lead up to the US November polls, ie, the presidential debate dubbed by many a political student as a battle between two old bones, and the announcement of Covid-19 yoking the first family of the States and some Staff at the Whitehouse on the BBC world service news.
Suddenly, a noise from the street by a mob, led by my errand boy, Mike, directed its course to my house distracting my attention to get more news about how President Trump and the First Lady Melania are fighting their lives to defeat Covid-19 amidst the heat of 2020 electioneering hefty duties.
Mike is leading people of all classes to my house not long after I’d sent him to buy fish for my pet, my only pal, a cat.
Children, the youth, boys, girls, men, women, neatly dressed, dirtily look, the beautiful, the lovely, and the ugly; as if the whole Goka had left their homes to enter my house. And the today’s paparazzi smartphone and computer world meant, almost all the anxious rushing crowd owned cameras to capture the actions they were after.
Mike held in his hands a polythene bag stuffed with the Ghana Cedi notes, a huge unpacked currency notes, one only would be seen at the stalls of the women at the big markets in the cities, during Christmas shopping.
He was walking with boldness and had a glow in his eyes suggesting he’s won a jackpot.
Behind him some doubters of Mike’s new-found happiness in a about to win jackpot were cursing and threatening to make meat of him if he’s made fool of them, and swindling them of their money used for a wager, or betting.
“What is going on here, will somebody explain to me, Mike?” I enquired.
With pomposity, self assurance and an air of accomplishment, Mike responded to me and his pursuers this way:
“Sir, is Donald Trump not here, in your house?”
I was like, ah, what’s this guy about? What has he gotten himself into?
Come to think of it. That my cat, with his white fur and bullying, hectoring approach to all comers into the house, be they of other domestic animals or humans, I jested once before friends that I see Donald Trump, the president of America, in him, my cat.
From that day forward, those my friends passed by and called my cat by Donald Trump. The people in the hood, the kids in particular, who either know or know not what that name meant, for the love of enjoining themselves to some of the trifles that take part of my time to exchange glances and smiles with them, mentioned Donald Trump anytime they reached my fence even if the cat is not in sight.
So, apparently, Mike heard from the street about the American President’s health, and his mandatory quarantine from the campaign platform just over a month to the two-horse race contest between himself leading the Republicans party and the Democrats’ led by Former Vice President, Joe Biden.
After buying the fish, he told those talking about Donald Trump held under Covid-19 induced quarantine that, they don’t know what they say. For from whence he came, Donald Trump is stealthily playing and mewing about, waiting for his feed. And it’s for that reason that he Mike was about buying the fried fish, “a delicacy for Trump”, he added.
Mike assured them that with his last pesewa, and the last drop of blood in him, he sacrifice for whatever useful purpose it’ll serve, if they follow him to his master’s house and did not see Donald Trump in his splendid looks.
Indeed, a fool can at times fool the many supposed wise at many times, they followed the foolish Mike to my house to see a Donald Trump.
Same it’s that’ll be said to those who have been won over by this satire, and causing their serious minds to look for a deadly conclusion for Mike in the house of his master, if the mob discover the true Donald Trump his zero political mind led him to fool the many people.
On the more serious note:
Sir Donald John Trump, I wish you and the First Lady a speedy recovery from the Chinese virus. May this setback be the springboard that’ll propel you back to the Oval Office.
I pray for you always.
Written by: Charles Yeboah (Sir Lord )
The Founder Of One Ghana Movement (#1GhM)