WORLD HUMANITARIAN DAY: The World Needs More

August 19th marked World Humanitarian Day – a day set aside to celebrate humanitarian personnel and those who have lost their lives whilst working for humanitarian causes. It also marks the day then Special Representative of the Secretary-General to Iraq, Sérgio Vieira de Mello and 21 of his colleagues were killed when a bomb went off at the UN headquarters in Baghdad, Iraq. The first World Humanitarian Day was commemorated on 19th August 2009; this year marks the fourth anniversary since its inception and the 10th anniversary of the death of the twenty-two workers in Baghdad.

When two elephants, fight it’s the ground that suffers. When wars are fought families are displaced, women and children get caught in the crossfires and thousands are injured with little or no access to food, shelter or health care. However, in this bleak world there remain others who dedicate their lives to alleviating the pain and suffering of others by providing the much needed healthcare, helping displaced people reunite with their families, helping build tents and temporary structures for shelter and working tirelessly to make food supplies accessible to displaced victims at the peril of their lives.

The International Red Cross Society was formed in the aftermath of the Crimean war and the Battle of Solferino with the purpose of providing medical aid and relief to the wounded soldiers and civilians without discrimination. This remains the guiding principle of humanitarian work. Other organisations have been formed over the years in response to the increasing number of causalities wars continue to claim. Notable among them is Médecins Sans Frontières (doctors without borders) which was formed in the aftermath of the Nigeria-Biafra civil war. Others include Save the Children, Oxfam and the Peace Corps. Individuals and corporate institutions donate money which goes into the running of these organisations but the biggest ‘donation’ is the hundreds and thousands of volunteers worldwide who dedicate their lives and skills to be the ray of sunshine that breaks through the dark clouds.

In recent years humanitarian efforts have not been limited to only victims of war but also victims of natural disasters, places where medical care is lacking or inaccessible and also peace-building efforts in places where it is needed. Examples include Médecins Sans Frontières work in Cambodia during a malaria outbreak in 1999 where qualified medical personnel were lacking and the Asian tsunami of 2004 which also saw Médecins Sans Frontières and the Red Cross Society going on the ground to give the necessary assistance just to mention a few.

Under the Geneva Conventions, health facilities must be treated as neutral premises and aid workers are classified as non-combatants and are not to be subjected to attacks. Yet, they are often kidnapped and or killed in the line of work; health facilities sometimes attacked. According to Aid Worker Security Database (AWSD), as at 2011, 86 aid workers were killed, 127 were seriously wounded, and 95 were kidnapped.

World Humanitarian Day is an opportunity to celebrate the spirit that inspires humanitarian work around the globe aside remembering those who have died years since. “Every year on August 19th we mark World Humanitarian Day in honour of aid workers, who have lost their lives in the line of duty. We commemorate their sacrifice and reaffirm our commitment to the lifesaving work that humanitarians carry out around the world every day, often in difficult and dangerous circumstances, where others cannot or do not want to go,” UN Secretary General Ban Ki-Moon has said.

 The world needs more humanitarianism and less wars, injustice and poverty.

The theme for this year’s celebration is “The World Needs More…” 
To get involved and to learn more about the campaign visit www.worldhumanitarianday.org

MOTORCYCLES: THE GOOD, THE BAD, THE UGLY

Growing up I loved motorcycles – shiny gleaming sleek machines that could accelerate from 0 to 100kmh in less than twenty seconds, eating up the road, zigzagging through traffic and places vehicles couldn’t navigate. Even more alluring was seeing a lady in black leather jackets with boots striding confidently across a street, putting on her helmet, mount her bike leaving a trail of dust behind… Then again I had been watching too many movies. Back then I remember telling myself someday I would buy a motorcycle.

Today I have no desire to even step on the shadow of one and hearing the rev of a motorcycle engine gets me jumpy. There is nothing inherently wrong with people using motorcycles as a means of transport but in Ghana they symbolize death and injury in my opinion. My description of them might sound exaggerated but a trip to the accident center of our major hospitals would give one a clear picture of what I am trying to convey.

An increase in urban population with its attendant traffic congestion have made the use of motorcycles as a means of transport even more desirable. However, the surge in individual ownership over the past five years has left in its wake an unfortunate increase in motorcycle related accidents.

The impunity with which people ride in town leaves me with the impression that maybe some people believe that like cats, they have nine lives after all. Motorcycle riders leave in a world of their own; the road is theirs to conquer and every other road user is just a nuisance. They jump red lights, cross haphazardly into other lanes and ride on the shoulders of the road without acknowledging the fact that there are pedestrians using the roads as well! It is not uncommon these days to be crossing a road and out of the blue have a motorcycle right in your face almost about to knock you down.

I have had three unpleasant encounters in that regard whilst crossing a road and had it not been for the timely intervention of other pedestrians I would have been nursing some nasty if not life threatening injuries. It’s even more disheartening when children, sometimes on their way to school, are caught in the middle of the madness of some of these inconsiderate cyclists. Even in vehicles children are either strapped in their car-seats or buckled up in seat-belts so I find it puzzling when children are transported on motorcycles without a protective helmet.
Why anyone would want to ride without a protective helmet just beats my mind. In the event of an accident the helmet gives protection to the head and in effect could greatly reduce the chances of a brain injury.

Another worrying trend is the commercial use of motorcycles as a means of public transport. How this started I cannot fathom. All I know is Accra woke up one day to find its inhabitants on two wheels without a helmet clinging to riders as they maneuvered their way through traffic. Justification of this practice has not been hidden with a Member of Parliament only stopping short of giving his approval, saying that it serves as an employment opportunity for the youth and a solution to the difficult traffic situation in the city. Well, what do I know?

This ‘okada’ business (a term imported from Nigeria where motorcycles form a large part of the public transport sector) has replicated itself in other towns and remote villages in our country where road networks are horrible or non-existent. Some even serve as an ‘ambulance’ during health emergencies in some of these remote places in accessing health posts/centers. Indeed, most public health personnel and agriculture extension workers actively rely on motorcycles in their day to day affairs so hey, they could be a necessary ‘evil’ but can some sanity prevail in how they are used on our roads?
No means of transport is safe and we would all die of one thing or the other someday but a ride on a motorcycle? Please spare me that.

THE NIGHT BEFORE ELECTIONS

Twas the night before elections, when all through the country
Some people were sleeping and others awake.
The ballot papers and boxes where stocked up with care,
In hopes that voters soon would queue up.

Some citizens were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of their various political parties danced in their heads.
And the police in their uniform, and journalist with their pens and recorders,
Had just settled to face the long ‘battle’ ahead.

The moon was full and the stars shone brightly,
Shone so brightly it could only mean one thing the lights were off.
The full moon gently outlining the dust covered houses,
From that uncompleted road heaped with sand that was never to be.

Out on the streets where the few without homes,
Preparing their make-shift beds to call it a night.
For them it was just another night,
Until morning when the whole cycle of survival begun again.

The lavender hill beach was eerily quiet
Littered with plastic waste and other unmentionables.
For the people just loved their beaches that way,
And the metropolitan assembly couldn’t give a damn.

The hospitals were busy and full to its capacity,
For illness knew not whether it was the eve to a Ghanaian election.
More patients lying on benches and sitting in plastic chairs,
Praying they be cured so their thumb could secure them a better future tomorrow and a decent bed next time illness struck!

The big eight in their respective parlors,
Wondering what fate awaited them tomorrow.
For they had crisscrossed the country singing to the masses,
Now was the time for Ghana to vote and decide who sung more beautifully.

And somewhere in the quiet city,
The digital clock by someone’s bed turned 00:01GMT.
Ushering in 7th December 2012 and I heard a voice far away say,
“Peaceful elections to Ghana and may the best candidate win!!”