Environmentalists believe that human beings are born “tabula rasa” or a blank board . This means that the mind of a human given birth to is regarded as having no innate conception and thus is given an opportunity to make a fresh start. They continue to argue that babies then conceptualize what they see, hear, smell, touch and taste. But one question I ask myself is, “where do mad people learn madness from?”
This readily comes to mind. Many people tell their friends, close relatives and colleagues at work places that “don’t be mad”, “are you crazy” and so on. This people I suppose do very funny things to warrant such comments and reprimands. But I believe they are nowhere near what the Twis in Ghana will say, “abodam”, or their brothers the Gas will say “seke” which means mad people. From this, I believe every normal person at one time or the other gets off the hook.
One group of people who are totally neglected in society just because of their health status is the mentally challenged or what our local parlance will refer to as mad people. Many a times, one could often see them roaming aimlessly on the streets of Accra entirely forgetting themselves, but not forgetful about food. Just as a car cannot move without fuel, food should obviously be taken. Just before you enter almost every market they stand around to bid you welcome or when leaving, bid you goodbye.
You are likely to find all manner of people, women, men and even more surprising young people all caught up in the web of forgetfulness, madness or more rightly, mental illness. Some are as thirty and others forty years . Others, fifty, twenty five and so on. stories are told of a number of them about how rich and wealthy they were. They simply couldn’t play the cards of life pretty well. Anyway, their wealth is never seen on them when they go mad. Well, then the Gas are right to say that in every house there is a Mensah. Mensah I hear is the commonest name in Ghana.
Their qualification.
Don’t allow your mind to take you into academia because mental illness is not acquired by a diploma or a decree. There is a perception in Ghana and I believe many African countries that such people are victims of curses from deities and witches . To what extent can I say it’s true?
What I can say and that which is scientifically proven is the fact that the ones who abuse drugs get themselves into that mess. Cocaine becomes paracetamol, indian hemp becomes a relaxer and heroine, a malaria injection. For these ones, I can conveniently say that they have earned certificates in drug abuse and self medication in a school that is accredited by themselves, lectured by themselves and are students themselves. What a school that will be!
Some too, are victims of circumstances. Out of shock I’m told of seeing their spouses cheat on them rendered them “mad”. One of such cases which readily comes to mind is that of a man married to a popular lady musician who got mentally disturbed after catching red-handed his beloved wife on his beloved bed “beloving” another man who was no less a person than the closest friend. As if that was not the enough, the woman insisted on a divorce for her to marry the other man. Recipe for disaster!
Their style
just as certain professions prescribe uniforms for the professionals for easy identification, so do we identify mentally ill or “mad” people with their hairstyle and basically what they wear- from head to toe and what they carry along on their unending journeys.
Generally, they all grow dreadlocks they have never dreamt to consciously grow. Some are dark brown and black on the skull. Others could be confused to Rastafarians with the thing long nature of the dreadlocks. The hair is never treated or kept and therefore take the length and colour it wishes to take. One can easily imagine the kind of dreadlocks I am talking about.
If there is anything to notice mad people with, then their dressing is something to consider. New cloths (I wonder where they get them from) turn dark brown in a matter of minutes. Some can simply be described as rugs. Others think that this whole world is can be likened to a bedroom or better still a bathroom. They expose their God given “properties” to the whole world without an iota of shame and feeling of shyness. Oh! What can forgetfulness do?!
Many “mad” people we see around behave distinctively. One only spits where ever he finds himself. I remember when I was growing up in the compound houses in La, a suburb of Accra. A mad man named Willi goes round the houses and spits around. More often than not, the tenants cook outside because of the little space they have for a kitchen. Willi comes near a soup on a coal pot and spits straight into it. It took two strong men to chase Willi out of the place. What will they do to the soup that could take that family to almost a week of constant food supply?
Another one called “Adolo” (a Ga word literally meaning ‘to fold’) is always seen to be running from one point to the other. What an athlete he is. As if it’s a strategy to win a race, he folds the mouth of his shorts or trousers to the extent that it cannot be folded any more. His thighs look like that of a crane. I wonder whether he ever gets tired. I think he is a talented athlete and should get a manager. But can he go by the rules?
The third one is “Arose”, one who had an accident and broke his left arm. He is sent to hospital for treatment only to runaway with his bandages and plaster of paris on. He forces and flees himself from the bandages. He is now seen with his arm swinging freely from the lower part of his shoulder.
Another one I see very often is the one who cannot be looked at for a second time. He usually do not put on clothes. He does not empty his bowels through his anus. Rather, a small passage can be noticed on the left side of his belly. He is always seen emptying his bowels through that passage. He always approaches any passerby and you can imagine the treatment he gets from the these people.
The closest encounter
This is how it all happened. One day, I was sent to fetch water from a stand pipe about a thousand meters away from my house. There was water rationing at that time and we needed water badly. I picked a bucket and set of through the mazelike walkways between the cluttered compound houses of La. No stranger could ever find his way through the walkways or will end up in a kitchen or perhaps the bedroom of a another perfect stranger.
I was maneuvering though the “maze” and got to a point where it only allows for just one person to pass at a time. It was a junction as well. Lo and behold, I came face to face with Arose on the other side. Who allows passage? As normal as I was, I gave way to Arose. He stepped right in front of me and paused for a second. My heart started losing beats. All of a sudden I felt a crash on my chest. He used a lid he was holding to hit me. I then have to quickly clamor for space. I patted the houses on both sides frantically and gathered courage to escape leaving the bucket behind. Luckily, I escaped unhurt and later came for the bucket.
Reports on “mad” people
A ‘funny’ aspect of the issue is the fact that some so-called pastors stage healing campaigns on the streets to heal mad people. They go on the streets and take some of the madmen and women and perform miracles on them. They shave their hairs, change their cloths and give them food to eat in a circular crowd of inquisitive people; men, women and children. The mad people start to behave normally. Oh! What a miracle. But within a couple of days they get back to their “normal” selves; mad.
I was watching news in the afternoon one day. A report was carried out on a mad man being “healed” from his madness. The reporter upon seeing the miracle being performed on this man, dared to interview him. To the amazement of the reporter and all the people gathered around, he answered the first question correctly. The second question followed, and lo and behold, he started speaking a language I’m sure is alien to planet earth. Everyone burst into serious laughter. The reporter herself couldn’t help but laugh. Well, miracle or no miracle, the problem continues.
Treatment of mad people
Many a times, mentally ill people are a group of people totally neglected in society. They have themselves disenfranchised. The law in Ghana grants everyone who is 18 years and above and of sound mind to vote. Well, perhaps it’s in their best interest. They don’t work and therefore do not expect money to come from somewhere all the time. The fortunate ones with very responsible families find themselves in psychiatric hospitals. They are kept clean, and fed from time to time. The unfortunate ones are seen is a complete state of hopelessness.
Some drink “water” from the gutters that only flow when they is a heavy down pour, eat from garbage and ‘shop’ from refuse containers. This is inhuman!
My greatest concern
It is clearly evident that mad people too are humans who need the help of other human beings. Their continues plights can never be told better than the one who feels for them. They never can tell us about what they go through because they are in a condition which does not permit them to do so. We never look at them as a vulnerable group like the visually challenged and the physically challenged. We never worry about other human beings as far as we see as selves to be okay in life. This is greed and selfishness. Perhaps the one who is able to do everything and nothing is impossible to him is watching with an eagle’s eye how we are treating ourselves here on earth. It takes an individual to make an impact in the lives of these unfortunate people we find in our mist.
A society which is helpful is one that progresses in every field.
This readily comes to mind. Many people tell their friends, close relatives and colleagues at work places that “don’t be mad”, “are you crazy” and so on. This people I suppose do very funny things to warrant such comments and reprimands. But I believe they are nowhere near what the Twis in Ghana will say, “abodam”, or their brothers the Gas will say “seke” which means mad people. From this, I believe every normal person at one time or the other gets off the hook.
One group of people who are totally neglected in society just because of their health status is the mentally challenged or what our local parlance will refer to as mad people. Many a times, one could often see them roaming aimlessly on the streets of Accra entirely forgetting themselves, but not forgetful about food. Just as a car cannot move without fuel, food should obviously be taken. Just before you enter almost every market they stand around to bid you welcome or when leaving, bid you goodbye.
You are likely to find all manner of people, women, men and even more surprising young people all caught up in the web of forgetfulness, madness or more rightly, mental illness. Some are as thirty and others forty years . Others, fifty, twenty five and so on. stories are told of a number of them about how rich and wealthy they were. They simply couldn’t play the cards of life pretty well. Anyway, their wealth is never seen on them when they go mad. Well, then the Gas are right to say that in every house there is a Mensah. Mensah I hear is the commonest name in Ghana.
Their qualification.
Don’t allow your mind to take you into academia because mental illness is not acquired by a diploma or a decree. There is a perception in Ghana and I believe many African countries that such people are victims of curses from deities and witches . To what extent can I say it’s true?
What I can say and that which is scientifically proven is the fact that the ones who abuse drugs get themselves into that mess. Cocaine becomes paracetamol, indian hemp becomes a relaxer and heroine, a malaria injection. For these ones, I can conveniently say that they have earned certificates in drug abuse and self medication in a school that is accredited by themselves, lectured by themselves and are students themselves. What a school that will be!
Some too, are victims of circumstances. Out of shock I’m told of seeing their spouses cheat on them rendered them “mad”. One of such cases which readily comes to mind is that of a man married to a popular lady musician who got mentally disturbed after catching red-handed his beloved wife on his beloved bed “beloving” another man who was no less a person than the closest friend. As if that was not the enough, the woman insisted on a divorce for her to marry the other man. Recipe for disaster!
Their style
just as certain professions prescribe uniforms for the professionals for easy identification, so do we identify mentally ill or “mad” people with their hairstyle and basically what they wear- from head to toe and what they carry along on their unending journeys.
Generally, they all grow dreadlocks they have never dreamt to consciously grow. Some are dark brown and black on the skull. Others could be confused to Rastafarians with the thing long nature of the dreadlocks. The hair is never treated or kept and therefore take the length and colour it wishes to take. One can easily imagine the kind of dreadlocks I am talking about.
If there is anything to notice mad people with, then their dressing is something to consider. New cloths (I wonder where they get them from) turn dark brown in a matter of minutes. Some can simply be described as rugs. Others think that this whole world is can be likened to a bedroom or better still a bathroom. They expose their God given “properties” to the whole world without an iota of shame and feeling of shyness. Oh! What can forgetfulness do?!
Many “mad” people we see around behave distinctively. One only spits where ever he finds himself. I remember when I was growing up in the compound houses in La, a suburb of Accra. A mad man named Willi goes round the houses and spits around. More often than not, the tenants cook outside because of the little space they have for a kitchen. Willi comes near a soup on a coal pot and spits straight into it. It took two strong men to chase Willi out of the place. What will they do to the soup that could take that family to almost a week of constant food supply?
Another one called “Adolo” (a Ga word literally meaning ‘to fold’) is always seen to be running from one point to the other. What an athlete he is. As if it’s a strategy to win a race, he folds the mouth of his shorts or trousers to the extent that it cannot be folded any more. His thighs look like that of a crane. I wonder whether he ever gets tired. I think he is a talented athlete and should get a manager. But can he go by the rules?
The third one is “Arose”, one who had an accident and broke his left arm. He is sent to hospital for treatment only to runaway with his bandages and plaster of paris on. He forces and flees himself from the bandages. He is now seen with his arm swinging freely from the lower part of his shoulder.
Another one I see very often is the one who cannot be looked at for a second time. He usually do not put on clothes. He does not empty his bowels through his anus. Rather, a small passage can be noticed on the left side of his belly. He is always seen emptying his bowels through that passage. He always approaches any passerby and you can imagine the treatment he gets from the these people.
The closest encounter
This is how it all happened. One day, I was sent to fetch water from a stand pipe about a thousand meters away from my house. There was water rationing at that time and we needed water badly. I picked a bucket and set of through the mazelike walkways between the cluttered compound houses of La. No stranger could ever find his way through the walkways or will end up in a kitchen or perhaps the bedroom of a another perfect stranger.
I was maneuvering though the “maze” and got to a point where it only allows for just one person to pass at a time. It was a junction as well. Lo and behold, I came face to face with Arose on the other side. Who allows passage? As normal as I was, I gave way to Arose. He stepped right in front of me and paused for a second. My heart started losing beats. All of a sudden I felt a crash on my chest. He used a lid he was holding to hit me. I then have to quickly clamor for space. I patted the houses on both sides frantically and gathered courage to escape leaving the bucket behind. Luckily, I escaped unhurt and later came for the bucket.
Reports on “mad” people
A ‘funny’ aspect of the issue is the fact that some so-called pastors stage healing campaigns on the streets to heal mad people. They go on the streets and take some of the madmen and women and perform miracles on them. They shave their hairs, change their cloths and give them food to eat in a circular crowd of inquisitive people; men, women and children. The mad people start to behave normally. Oh! What a miracle. But within a couple of days they get back to their “normal” selves; mad.
I was watching news in the afternoon one day. A report was carried out on a mad man being “healed” from his madness. The reporter upon seeing the miracle being performed on this man, dared to interview him. To the amazement of the reporter and all the people gathered around, he answered the first question correctly. The second question followed, and lo and behold, he started speaking a language I’m sure is alien to planet earth. Everyone burst into serious laughter. The reporter herself couldn’t help but laugh. Well, miracle or no miracle, the problem continues.
Treatment of mad people
Many a times, mentally ill people are a group of people totally neglected in society. They have themselves disenfranchised. The law in Ghana grants everyone who is 18 years and above and of sound mind to vote. Well, perhaps it’s in their best interest. They don’t work and therefore do not expect money to come from somewhere all the time. The fortunate ones with very responsible families find themselves in psychiatric hospitals. They are kept clean, and fed from time to time. The unfortunate ones are seen is a complete state of hopelessness.
Some drink “water” from the gutters that only flow when they is a heavy down pour, eat from garbage and ‘shop’ from refuse containers. This is inhuman!
My greatest concern
It is clearly evident that mad people too are humans who need the help of other human beings. Their continues plights can never be told better than the one who feels for them. They never can tell us about what they go through because they are in a condition which does not permit them to do so. We never look at them as a vulnerable group like the visually challenged and the physically challenged. We never worry about other human beings as far as we see as selves to be okay in life. This is greed and selfishness. Perhaps the one who is able to do everything and nothing is impossible to him is watching with an eagle’s eye how we are treating ourselves here on earth. It takes an individual to make an impact in the lives of these unfortunate people we find in our mist.
A society which is helpful is one that progresses in every field.
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