Opana vs the Good Doctor



So myself and the Honourable MP for Facebook South, Rodney Nkrumah-Boateng took to play scripting soon after Dr. Mahamudu Bawumia had delivered what my NPP friends say is a succinct response to the budget as presented by the Finance Minister, Seth Tekper.



The offices of Opana. Wide, brown leather seats surround a glass centre table supported by thick mahogany wood shaped in an adinkra symbol.

The Samsung radio set is tuned to a radio station booming the confident voice of a certain academic cum politician cum professional economist known as Mahmoud Bawumia.

The People:
Standing in one corner of the office is the Chief of Staff. Looking pensive and pretending to be taking notes on his Samsung 10.0 tablet.

Crouched in one of the sofas is the unassuming Finance Minister. He has a large Office of the President diary and he is scribbling away ferociously.

Leaning against the wall close to the door is the Deputy Finance Minister. He has folded 6 A4 sheets and is writing away in a hand writing only a pharmacist can read.

The party General Secretary is seated in one corner of the 3 in one sofa as though there wasn’t enough space left to sit – he is alone on the seat. He is simply nodding ‘no, no, no’ and murmuring to himself as though rehearsing what he will say to the first station that will call him.

The rest of the people are simply pretending to be working hard just so they keep their jobs and may be gain a promotion.

Opana is perched at the edge of his huge, magnificent desk. He is pensive. In the past few minutes that the good doctor had begun talking, 12 more grey hair strands had grown from his scalp. The burrows on his forehead had been there and remained there for a minute too long.

He lifts himself from his desk and takes 5 paces to his left. He pauses as Bawumia delivers a sucker punch. Just as Opana takes that and takes a step toward his right, Bawumia throws a right hook backed with data. Opana pauses again and takes a wicked look in the direction of his Finance Minister who avoids his stare by writing even more ferociously.

As the punches and left hooks and right hooks and near head butt come in a flurry, Opana slowly finds his seat and slumps into it. The only voice that  can be heard is the authoritative voice of the man who had been warned not to call Opana incompetent because he has not been President before.

Bawumia ends his lecture.
Opana’s office remains quiet.
So quiet the only sound seemed to come from the AC
After 1 minute, silence
After 3 minutes, still silence
After 5 minutes, more silence

Then a phone rings.
Luckily, it is Opana’s wife.

….to be  continued

Dr. Mahamudu Bawumia


The Scene: Deep beneath FSH in a bunker. A sparse, cheap conference table sits in the middle of the room, illuminated by a single bulb and surrounded by plastic chairs. The walls are bare and unpainted.
The bunker’s sparse and basic furnishing is deliberate. It is reserved for only the most grave of meetings, when there is a serious crisis. The only sound in the room, aside the humming of the air-conditioning, is a radio carrying the confident, smooth, silky voice of Mahmoud Bawumia PhD,economist and politician extraordinaire.

Seated around the table are Opana , his Attorney General, Chief of Staff, Finance Minister, Party General Secretary and a couple of presidential staffers. The despair in the room is evident. You could cut through the tension with a blunt cutlass.
Opana: (as soon as the word ‘incompetent’ escapes from Bawumia’s lips) Alright, this nonsense must stop, and must stop now! Turn the damn machine off!! I say turn it off!!

A presidential staffer scurries like a rabbit to turn the radio off. The room is plunged into silence. Opana slumps in his chair, buries his head in his hands and moans softly. Sweat beads form on his forehead as he lifts his head up.

Opana: Why does he do this to me? Have I not told the whole world I don’t like that word? How inhumane can man be towards his fellow man? (His eyes begin to well up).

Gen Sec: Well, Mr. President, I remember warning you not to tell him you don’t like the word. You see, even in school, once you rebel against an uncomplimentary nickname, it gets..

Opana: Oh shut up, for crying out loud! Who needs advice from a mosquito? Now, Seth, tell me, is what he is saying true?

Finance: Mr. President, I am afraid it is. He is right on all points.

Opana: You will not of course repeat this outside this room, will you?
Finance: (rolling his eyes) As you wish, Mr. President.

Opana: OK, now how do we limit this damage? But before then, look, this man pops up everytime we read a budget, and then he shreds it. Could we not find a permanent preventive solution to this nonsense? Is prevention not better than cure?

Ch of Staff: Well, you’re right. I have been thinking. Could we not for instance deport him from this country?

Opana: Ah, interesting idea. Attorney-General?

AG: Well, there are constitutional provisions. As a citizen of this country…

Opana: Look, Marietta, cut me some slack. Was Nana Prempeh I not a citizen of this country when he was deported to Seychelles? So there is what you lawyers call precedent, right? I have the Seychelles PM’s number on speed dial.

AG: I would strongly advise against that, Your Excellency.

Opana: Well, whatever. You lawyers. Any other ideas?

Gen Sec: We could charge him with terrorism and have him jailed for life.

Ch of Staff: Is he a terrorist?

Gen Sec: Who cares? If we say he is, then he is.

AG: Gentlemen, it would not fly. No evidence. The courts will exonerate him.

Gen Sec: Bloody judges…

Opana: Alright, alright. So we can’t stop him from reacting to our budget. But hold on. What if we decided not to read the budget in the first place? Surely there would be nothing to react to, anaa?

AG: Your Excellency, per Article 179 of the constitution…

Opana: Marietta, you and your law law. Look, the constitution was made for us, not the other way round. Anyway, looks like we are stuck with this guy. What do we do to rubbish him?

Finance: Your Excellency, we have tried it before. Rubbishing his analysis is pointless because he is on point.

Ch of Staff: Personal attacks?

Opana: Won’t fly. We tried it before. What is wrong with you? No original thinking?

Ch of Staff: My apologies, Excellency

The room is quiet for a few minutes. Then suddenly…

Gen Sec: Look, I have an idea!!. (All perk up brightly and lean forward expectantly). Let’s create a smokescreen.

Opana: How?

Gen Sec: We can rely on the usual internal dissidents to say something diabolical about the flagbearer. Let’s keep cool. They will deliver without prompting. Then we attack the flagbearer and say how divisive he is. If we are lucky, there could be a physical fight between a party chairman and his secretary in one of the constituencies. A stabbing would be brilliant. Blood and all that.terrifies the voters.  If nothing happens we can make a story up. Then we can sing the ‘NPP is violent and not ready for power’ song.

CH of Staff: Internal ISIS…

Gen Sec: Exactly!

Heads nod slowly and slow smiles break out.
At that moment, Opana’s phone rings. His face breaks into a thousand smiles as he notes that it is Mrs. Opana. After speaking to her for a minute he addresses his people.

Opana: Well, well, well. My lovely wife tells me dinner is ready. Bole yam and rabbit stew. She wants you all to join us. I think we can end this meeting on the happy note of our brilliant General Secretary’s magnificent suggestion.
Let’s get to work, guys.

They all rise and clap and cheer loudly as Opana exits the room first, his tears completely dried up.


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