Ghana’s military strongman whose sudden demise on November 12, 2020 caused jitters far and near, had spells of emotional breakdown.
One of these was the tears he shed in his car one fateful day, underscoring the tenor of a man who was heroically strong on the outside, but a bit brittle in the inside, for he was a humanist and ever ready to show sympathy.
Flt Lt Jerry John Rawlings became the poster image on the earthmoving revolution in Ghana in 1979 and 1981 spearheaded by the military of which he was named the leader. On the crest wave of popular support, the former leader rode to a famous victory, partly due to the economic situation at the time and his own charisma.
While the period forced down some actors in the country willy-nilly, there were many receptive ears to his mantra. There was an instinctive acclamation for all measures made to see off corruption. It was held that the corrosive and cancerous faces of Ghana were as a result of the phenomenon. Standing on army jeeps most of the time and delivering extempore on the high-pitch, he got the political tailwind for his actions in the peoples succour.
In 1995, the Rawlings administration came under severe pressure following protests over the Value Added Tax, VAT. It was the act of reactionary forces who organized a mammoth public demonstration dubbed “kume preko” against the new tax policy. The Finance and Economic Planning Minister, Dr Kwesi Botchway resigned his position in that affair, after having been on the job for 13 years.
Later that same year, there was another major occurrence, a natural disaster. Torrential rains had heavily flooded parts of the capital Accra especially the usually busy Kwame Nkrumah circle area where traffic was disrupted and lives were threatened.
The situation presented itself as a comeback time for the government which was reeling under a public relations crises of some sort, and urgently needed to court the public. To fend off the ripples on the new tax, Rawlings and some key regime actors took the natural disaster case extremely serious, amidst a political culture prone to tactical games. He waded through the floodwaters, for the symbolism of it, but essentially to show that his government did not rest on its oars in tackling the new danger at hand. 1995 was a year away from the next elections which Rawlings had firmly set sights to renew his mandate.
He was a popular candidate by all standards, given the fact that he had already won one election despite bursting on the political stage tempestuously. He was not taking his feet off the pedal either, for the political space had become much open and the political opposition more pronounced.
As an adjunct to the day’s rescue efforts, President Rawlings then headed for Latebiokorshie, a suburb of the capital, to be interviewed in the studios of Radio Gold. It was one of the rare live interviews he ever granted to the media, so the event was well monitored. He glowed in oratory and exuded passion over matters concerning the public.
Unknown to President Rawlings, a big crowd had gathered just outside the premises of Radio Gold to catch a glimpse of him. Rawlings was the man behind the steering wheel of the vehicle which was coming out of the yard after the interview, and when he saw the crowd, he shed tears, and clenched his fist on that of his political ally who sat to his right as he screech to a halt.
The tears dropped down on his face but this notwithstanding, Rawlings mustered courage, and got of his vehicle to address the people. He intermittently wiped his face with a handkerchief, vacillating between English and the ga language.
He shed tears not over the kume Preko protests but the sympathy shown by the crowd which mobbed him after his interview.
