Every now and then, a public incident delicate enough to have been forgotten, gains prominence and sends the world in a desperate search for the bad boy who said, ‘Tweaa.’
Late January 2014, the DCE of Ahafo Ano South, flared up during a public speech in the Ashanti region. In the course of his ranting, a faceless voice from nowhere protesting the big man’s arrogance, shouted ‘Tweaa,’ embarrassing the big man with that little word. Hearing this, the angry DCE abandoned his speech and headed towards the crowd, exploding in fury: ‘Hwan na ese tweaa no? Who said tweaa… am I your co-equal?’ The big shot spent some time probing the source of the jibe, but to no avail.
The well-publicized incident went viral, and made ‘Tweaa’ a household word which entered cyberspace and even the Wikipedia. ‘Who said Tweaa,’ has now come to stay, and refers to any vain search for an anonymous blasphemer.
Today, it’s the turn of a grisly utterance by a faceless voice in Ghana’s parliament. February this year, during a free-for-all debate about issues in our history, a bold voice from afar filed an attack on Member of Parliament Zanetor Rawlings, hitting where it hurt most. ‘Daughter of a Murderer,’ he yelled two or more times outside camera then recoiled in silence. After weeks of public debate on the incident, Speaker Alban Bagbin now seeks a probe to determine who said Tweaaa?
Everybody probably knew who said ‘Tweaa,’ but for record purposes the law makers that day, saw no evil, heard no evil, and spoke no evil. Legislators were probably dozing that day and did not see the source; or rather they heard it, but knew how suicidal it was to earn ‘Judas’ as your middle name. For the ‘culprit’ himself, he knew that classroom norms rule out the betrayal of bad boys on the last row. In our days in Winneba, George Oppan, Samuel Acquaye, Osei Manu, ‘Akapoma,’ would yell the Teacher’s nickname when his back was turned. ‘Who said Sokoor? I say who said Sokoor?’ Lips were sealed. The whole class, girls included, knew the name of the game and the oath of secrecy in Form 4A.
Speaker Alban Bagbin, we know you mean well; but please don’t overreach yourself getting to the bottom of the matter. ‘Who said Tweaa,’ often draws a blank response. Even if the bad boy owns up to apologize, simply caution him. But spend more time at orientation sessions, cautioning the House about Ghana’s grisly past and national security risks involved in ‘prying beneath the eye of the corpse.’ Finger pointing murderers and relations should have no place in a dignified parliament; but there are more fundamental issues beyond a venomous missile directed at Zanetor; after all she was only a year-old when her father led the dreaded June 4th Revolution.
The attack was uncouth and unacceptable. But society would probably prefer sleeping dogs to lie or even die, since a good part of our political history can evoke nightmares! It is for this reason the formal celebration of revolutions was unanimously outlawed by the Supreme Court in 1994. The year 2002, President J. A. Kufuor established a National Reconciliation Commission to put on record past violations of human rights inflicted on persons outside constitutional rule, and recommend appropriate compensations. This was part of a healing process, so our dear Ghana would let bygones be bygones. But we know what has happened since. Violent revolutions are still being celebrated, the most recent being a 31st December anniversary one week before the January 7 Constitution Day. That event was in bad taste 32 years into the 4th Republic. But it was brazenly done with fanfare with little regard for sensibilities of families who lost dear ones, particularly murdered judges for whom a memorial is held every July 3.
Late 1997, I undertook to interview orphans of June 4 about their reaction to the continued celebration of June 4 by the Rawlings regime in a democratic Ghana. Here are excerpts from their narrations:
“I don’t think the holiday is right. It brings back memories of incidents which should be forgotten. There is an unfortunate impression that people are celebrating the death of innocent ones. Celebrating Independence is understandable; that unites the nation. Not June 4.”
Another voice:
“Why celebrate June 4. Why? One would rather have celebrated June 4 by reconciliation. You could have said, ‘Let’s reconcile on the occasion of June 4.’ You don’t say, ‘I’m tempted to repeat June 4.’ The point is, isn’t he satisfied with the damage already caused by June 4? Why would he want to cause more damage?
“The witch hunting does not help the nation. But I blame the nation for that. For, do you blame the coup maker responsible for the atrocities, or do you blame the entire society that allowed it to happen?”
Part of a letter I wrote to J. J. in 1997 first published in Yao Graham’s Public Agenda, could as well be relayed to JM: Mr. President, these are some of the several voices of sons and daughters orphaned by June 4. Their tales needlessly bring back memories we should all forget. But that is what happens when we decide not to let sleeping dogs lie, or even die.
Our Dear Zanetor, sorry for the ugly incident in Parliament; but please advise yourself when you are being dragged to celebrate a revolution within a constitutional democracy. People are still hurting, Zanetor.
And to beloved Speaker Bagbin, we love you; but what has happened demands far deeper remedies. It raises questions far beyond ‘Who said Tweaaa.’
By Kwesi Yankah
