Augusco Mourns Mr Mark Forjoe

On the 27th of April when Mr Mark Forjoe is put to rest, I wish I could be in Ghana, to sing with my guitar by his grave. A melodious song, not of sorrow but of joy, a song sang in celebration of a life well led. For there-in would be the remains of a man loved by all, hated by none and whose very simplicity was an example for all.

Mr Mark Forjoe was my Art master in the St. Augustine’s College in Cape Coast. For years, he was as much a part of Augusco as his old fender guitar. He would often be seen solemnly strolling down the hills from the staff bungalows, his guitar on his back, down into the valley with the little bridge lined on either side by palm date trees and up to the base of the St Stephens –St Patricks building. As he popped out between the school tower and the Biology Laboratory in front of the building, there would be the odd shout of “Mac Tonto!”, because he played the guitar and shared a first name with that member of the Osibisa band. He took it all in good spirit.

Mr Forjoe was a brilliant artist, guitarist and composer who not only took up the responsibility of organising the school choir, but also in teaching anybody who cared to walk into his house, how to play the guitar. Many of us did. One could walk into Mr Forjoe’s house anytime, any day and he would bring you a guitar to start practicing. I still wonder how they coped with the traffic of students going through the house each day.

Mr Forjoe was always the same, always even-tempered and soft-spoken. The only time he expressed reservation about how often I went to play the guitar was during a period when I was struggling with my A-levels and he quietly sought to ascertain from me whether I was getting my priorities right or something to that effect. That is how much he cared. He was a teacher, a mentor and a dad to me, and I believe to a host of other boys who went through St. Augustine’s.

And God was kind to him, blessing him with a wonderful wife, two extremely gifted and intelligent boys, Francis and Mark and two lovely daughters, Theresa and Margaret, who are all doing very well in their various spheres of life. He lived in peaceful retirement in his hometown in the Western region of Ghana where he will be laid to rest on the 27th of April.

It was during one long vacation when Mr Forjoe, perhaps bored by the lack of activity, decided to organise all the kids living on the St. Augustine’s campus into a choir. Within a couple of months, he had built a pretty good choir from a bunch of kids, many of whom had never sung seriously before in their lives. The Campus Choir had the honour of singing in the first church service when school re-opened.

I still can remember the look of surprise on people’s faces as they craned their necks to see who this choir was as we belted out popular tunes like Amazing Grace, Peace Perfect Peace and Let your light Shine! We will continue to try to let our lights shine in everything we do, even if only for the memory of a good man. “Oh let it shine, shine shine, Come on and let your light shine........” Papa Appiah

"Ashanti Stars!" - The Demise of The Black Stars

Little decisions define great coaches. The Black Stars played Burkina Faso on the worse pitch anyone has ever seen in an international tournament. So the Burkinabe’s devised a simple strategy – to kick a long ball into the Black Stars’ area anytime they gained possession and get their fast forwards to charge up the field. They believed, and they have been proved right, that with the nature of the field, there was no point attempting man-to-man football. Again, the bounce of the ball on this pitch meant our defenders or goalkeeper could easily make a mistake. These are the little things that make a difference. These are not skills acquired in UEFA licensing courses. They are everyday common sense tactics.

The least said about the decision to take off Wakaso, the better. I believe that Kwesi Appiah, in his quiet moments, would reflect and accept that he made a mistake with that one. Suffice it to say, that in a penalty shoot-out, the least a coach can do is to start with one of the most competent and confident penalty takers to relax the rest of the team. What you do not do is to start with good old Vorsah, an untested player in this department, who’s every step towards the ball, displayed a total lack of confidence and belief. I felt sorry for the guy.

The problem with Kwesi Appiah is that while he was captain of Kumasi Asante Kotoko and the Black Stars several years ago, he has no real coaching pedigree to serve as a yardstick for assessing his competence. After all, being Black Stars captain does not necessary make one a good coach. Anytime I have said this, somebody has mentioned victory against Nigeria in some under-23 game and a gold medal in the All-African games under-23 competition and four years as assistant to the much-maligned Serbian coaches. I am sorry, but if that is the criteria for selecting the national coach of a country like Ghana, then I weep for Ghana soccer.

All over the world, serious football countries select coaches with indisputable proven competence at club level to become national coaches. The national team becomes a kind of “retirement” job for men who have done it all at club level. So Brazil have Scolari, England have Roy Hodgson, Spain have Vincente del Bosque, Germany have Joachim Low. If we are serious about getting to the semi-final of a World Cup, then these are the countries we should compare ourselves with. In the rare example where a person like Klinsmann became German coach, he was surrounded by some of the best brains in German soccer, while he led with his charisma.

Ghana’s most successful local coach, CK Gyamfi, the man who won 3 AFCONS for the country did not come out of the blue to become Black Stars manager. He had proved his coaching acumen at a relatively young age by forming his own club, Ashanti Heroes, and leading them as player and coach all the way to the top division in Ghana. That was an incredible feat that proved to all, that here was a particularly gifted man with a great future in coaching. He then went on to Borussia Dortmund as the first African in the Bundesliga, did his coaching badges when he retired and came down to coach the Black Stars. Anyone who has heard him speak will not doubt the knowledge, intelligence and inspiration this man exudes. Coaching manuals he wrote are still being used all over Africa. That is the kind of quality we are asking for!

National football coaching in a country like Ghana is serious business. It is not about having a pretty face, having friends in the right places, being “loved” by the players or being from the “right” tribe. The curriculum vitae of Kwesi Appiah at senior level reads as follows – Wins against the likes of Lesotho and Malawi, a World Cup campaign in peril, the worse performance by any Black Stars side in AFCON for several years. On what basis are we clamouring for his retention as our national coach? On what records are we vouching for his managerial competence? Or are we simply happy to leave him there, pray very hard and hope for the best because he happens to be a local coach?

There is more to Kwesi Appiah than the “mild-mannered” facade he portrays in public. I remember an incident in the 1992 competition when the captaincy had been rather controversially taken from him and given to Abedi Pele. In the middle of a game, Abedi had to receive treatment on the touchline. We were all surprised to see Kwesi Appiah running to the touchline to try to snatch the armband from Abedi even before a final decision had been made as to whether he was going to continue or not. As it happened, Abedi continued the game. It may have been a small incident but it clearly showed that while Kwesi Appiah played the gentleman and failed to complain in public, he harboured a deep bitterness that I believe has persisted till now.

This is a dangerous guy who has schemed his way to the top job and tried to compensate for his lack of knowledge by playing the tribal card from the bottom of the deck. The Black Stars suddenly became “Ashanti Stars”. Players like Derek Boateng who had hitherto been at the fringes of the team suddenly became spokesmen alongside Agyemang Badu. The Asantehene got caught in the flow. Kwesi Appiah fun clubs were formed in Kumasi and all-night prayer vigils were held for him.

He then pandered to anti-Ayew sentiments in Kumasi by playing the hero and making sure no Ayew was in the team. He even rubbed it in further by giving the cherished number 10 jersey to Danquah Adomah, an Ashanti second division player, woefully incapable of shouldering that huge responsibility. Vorsah was kicked out for Akaminko till the latter showed how rubbish he was. Waris was not even considered despite setting goal-scoring records in Europe. Richmond Boakye-Yiadom was deemed better. Asamoah Gyan, a guy who has had the audacity to withdraw his services from the nation was called back to be captain.

A blatant attempt was made to strengthen an Ashanti clique at the core of the national side, who would stick together and “die” for the course if need be. Unfortunately, as we have witnessed, there is far more to international football than that. We will only succeed with a coach who does not only have the experience and requisite qualifications for such an important job but who also understands, that while individuals may have different characteristics, it is his job to foster unity in the team. Ghana only succeeds when we stand as one people, a nation with a shared and common destiny. Kwesi Appiah must go!

Monkey Chants, Monkey Dance

Accusations of racism have become almost accepted in some circles as enough excuse for otherwise gentle Black men to behave uncharacteristically violently or outlandishly. A racial chant or two seems to be reason enough for us to throw our toys out of the pram and resort to “monkey” behaviour to seek sympathy from an unsympathetic world. So somebody called you a monkey? Why don’t you call him an idiot and get on with it? There is surely much more to life than that. Of course I am not naively oblivious of incidents of history. Nobody should attempt to lecture me on Nazism and the Third Reich, National Socialism and of the six million Jews that were killed, as well as all the lives that were lost trying to stop them. Neither do I want to hear of the Ku Klux Klan, nor the Martin Luther Kings who had a dream but whose lives were brutally cut short, never to see his little grandchildren link up and play with their white friends on the hills of Mississippi.

I do not want to hear of the subtle racial machinations that mean that a black man turns on his fellow black man at the instigation of racists white men, so great leaders like Malcolm X were shot down by his own people. I am aware of the dangers to society when racism exists in the arms of authority and that, when one white policeman is racist, no black man is free. Many a black man has been frustrated at work and denied adequate career progress by racist authority, though often times, the reasons for these are far more complex than meets the eye.

What we should fear as a people is not the monkey chant on the terraces but the subtle shades of racism that one cannot prove, but nevertheless linger in the air, seeking an opportunity to stab you in the back. That is why I am amused by the reaction of Kevin Prince Boateng to the recent racist incident in a match in Italy. He stopped playing, tore off his shirt and stormed off the pitch like a silly little boy. There have been congratulatory messages round the world for the hero who stood up against racism. He has even been invited to the United Nations. What the poor chap does not know, is that the white clique that run the UN are inviting him to congratulate him for helping prove their misguided theory, that the Blackman is a mental simpleton who sees every racial innuendo as an excuse to explode.

Every now and again, however, one hears a heart-warming story that makes one realize, that there is yet hope for our race. Jozy Altidore is a little-known Black American footballer who plays in the Dutch premier division for AZ Alkmaar. He was playing in a game yesterday when he was fouled for a penalty. The opponent’s fans, aggrieved at the penalty decision started making monkey noises. Jozy Altidore did not run away. Even though he is not the regular penalty taker of his team, he asked on this occasion to be allowed to take the kick and he scored. This action infuriated the fans even more and the monkey chants increased. At one point the referee had to stop the game and nearly brought proceedings to a close but Jozy Altidore pleaded with them to let the game continue. His side was leading 3-0 at the time. The match continued and they finally won 5-0. After the game, he was asked how he felt and this was what he had to say; “I am disappointed, but one can only pray that humanity grows. I feel like I have an obligation as a football player, to my club and to my family, not to react to things like this and to show that the club stands better than that. I needed to show, that I was raised better than to respond to such ridiculous behaviour” Well said, brother. I pray unto God that I may be able to educate my kids to develop such mental strength in the face of all the adversities of life. I also pray, that Jozy Altidore be invited to the UN for proving, that the Blackman has enough sophistication and intelligence, to ignore what cannot hurt him. Papa Appiah www.ghanansemsem.blogspot.com