• Ekow Manuar

IX. Unsettling.

Updated: Mar 31


The quiet dusk slowly drew itself to a close leaving the stage for a violet sky freckled with shimmering stars. The frequency on the analog radio set was scratchy and spoilt the blanket of silence that hung over the city like a storm cloud.


Fatima, an older and wealthier woman now, slumped on her couch resting her swollen feet on the foot-cushion, turned the dial on the radio running through various frequencies of white noise. Fayrouza and Zenabu had been too frightened to play outside and were instead curled up on the carpet holding their tablets to their noses and mechanically picking groundnuts from the bowl between them. The TV was on, but the message still read ‘no internet connection.’

She knew why. She had been there.

The blast shook the world. The screams from her mouth drowned in the cacophony. Her hands reaching for and pulling at herself and the person on top of her. But suddenly on the other side of her. Rushing. Rushing chaos all around. Her hands stuck on her head hoping that today God was not coming for judgment. Thinking of her girls. Thinking of where they were. Hoping they were away, far away from it. Close to each other. Protecting themselves from harm. Remembering their mother loved them so deeply it hurt.


Oh, she had been there. And now it was everywhere.


Finally, the pointer ticked on the dial and the monotone accent rapidly distributed the news for the day.


In what appears to be confirmed as a suicide bombing, Ejura has been hit by a terror attack which is expected to have claimed more than five lives. No group has yet to claim responsibility for the heinous act, but officials on the scene are confident they have strong leads into finding out who was behind these attacks today. It is believed that the assailant worked alone, and it is suspected that the data server was the aim of the attack.


If you are listening to this broadcast you are probably doing so through a radio frequency. As of a few minutes after the blast it can be confirmed that internet services for large swathes of Accra, Kumasi and other town’s in Southern Ghana were disabled, disrupting most internet terrestrial service. Residents of these cities are asked to remain in their homes for the rest of the night, but tomorrow should see a return to normalcy.


It is yet unknown who the perpetrators were but early reports suggest that the attackers were indigene, locals to Ejura. It is also suggested the attackers must have had an insider privy to the layout of the server and knowledgeable on its vital organs. It is a dark day in Ghana history. But it is just a day nonetheless, and tomorrow we will rise with the new sun and go about our work, resisting our fears and damning those who would defend and condone such a philosophy of rebellion.


Thank you, my name is Farida Yaro with BBC: Ghana.

Saturated with thought, Fatima wrung her mind with prayer and hoped she would feel as light as a feather to float gently into her beckoning slumber. But the unsettling thought that someone could be pushed to such an extreme act disturbed her, rumbling from her heart up into the deepening creases between her eyes. Not just anybody. But one of their own.


Her mother had bought the same analog radio Fatima was using presently, to listen to business news from the south. Her mother was illiterate, so she used to sit young Fatima down and let her translate the news for her. She paid particular attention to the export trade since the government was interested in enriching the country with foreign currency. ‘Stabilising the currency’ is what they said. By the mid-2020s, Fatima had considerable responsibility and basically ran her mother’s shea business. The shea that would end up in creams, bathing soaps, hand lotions, and innumerable beauty products shelved in the physical and online supermarkets of the World. With that came her prosperity, her ex-husband, and two precious daughters.


Her mother had bought the same analog radio Fatima was using presently, to listen to business news from the south. Her mother was illiterate, so she used to sit young Fatima down and let her translate the news for her. She paid particular attention to the export trade since government was interested in enriching the country with foreign currency. ‘Stabilising the currency’ is what they said. By the mid-2020s, Fatima had considerable responsibility and basically ran her mother’s shea business. The shea that would end up in creams, bathing soaps, hand lotions, and innumerable beauty products shelved in the physical and online supermarkets of the World. With that came her prosperity, her ex-husband, and two precious daughters.


But she was one of few and whenever she thought of the plight of the masses, sleeping in front of shops, hawking on the streets, she couldn’t help but feel that her success was built on something someone else had previously had. That she had taken. Whether it was the huge tracts of land bought by her ex-husband’s southern partner to cultivate shea or the machinery trucked up to mechanize cultivation leaving many without work and unemployable, she was complicit. At least that is what she thought.


Had the person who committed such an extreme act been one of those left without a choice? If it was the case, could she ever say they were wrong for taking such measures? She stared at her daughters and exhaled a long heavy breath. Ghana had seen no such extremism before. But today the day of February 18th, 2043, something in Ghana finally happened.


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