Once upon a time within the Republic of Uncommon Sense, Parliament — that august House intended for sober deliberation — quietly remodeled itself right into a National Theatre manufacturing with out auditioning a unmarried actor. Citizens tuned in anticipating lawmaking; as a substitute, they had been rewarded with choreography, percussion, costumes, and sufficient dramatic pressure to energy a telenovela. All this as a result of one modest A4 letter declared the Kpandai seat vacant, and all of sudden our Honourables remembered that they had studied Theatre Arts of their earlier lives.

The Clerk to Parliament, whose activity is to write down innocuous English and steer clear of bother, by chance authored probably the most explosive letter of the 12 months. It merely stated the Kpandai seat used to be vacant, however Minority MPs learn it like a painful breakup message: “Dear Hon., it’s over. It’s not you, it’s the High Court.” And, similar to any first rate Ghanaian breakup, the aftermath featured shouting, marching, black clothes, and the solemn vow that executive commerce would endure till any individual “talked to them nicely.”

The Minority then carried out what can handiest be described because the Table-Banging Olympic Trials. They rose from their seats, stormed the centre of the ground, chanted, hooted, and slammed tables with such patriotic pastime that even the furnishings started reconsidering its lifestyles alternatives. Their hydration breaks had been dignified, that includes bottled water — as a result of one can’t level a parliamentary rebel whilst clutching a sachet like a trotro passenger. For a complete 40 mins, Parliament resembled a durbar the place the manager used to be absent, the linguist used to be at a loss for words, and commonplace sense had boarded a bus to Paga.

But the actual thriller baffling voters used to be this: if the NDC already has an absolute majority — sufficient MPs to approve a minister sooner than breakfast — why had been they combating so desperately over one seat in Kpandai? The resolution, as all the time in Ghanaian politics, is that mathematics behaves like a trotro driving force’s temper: unpredictable, temperamental, and extremely influenced via climate stipulations. A majority on paper is something; a majority on balloting day is some other. MPs shuttle, MPs fall ill, MPs vanish into conferences no one scheduled, and a few merely overlook why they got here to Parliament within the first position. So the Majority fights for each further seat now not for arithmetic however for insurance coverage — the political similar of holding small exchange clear of a trotro mate who swears, “Boss, your balance, I dey come.”

Meanwhile, the Majority behaved like a made up our minds hairdresser braiding a kid’s hair whilst she’s screaming “Mummy!” and begging for mercy — however the cornrows will have to proceed as a result of college begins the next day to come. While the Minority hooted and hollered, the Majority evenly handed allocations, followed experiences, and driven executive commerce ahead, unbothered via the noise. Their message used to be transparent: “Cry all you want, this hairstyle will be finished.”

And then there used to be Matthew Nyindam, the person on the centre of the typhoon, sitting someplace in a state of natural Zen. “I am not troubled,” he stated. “We didn’t cheat,” he confident. This is a person so calm he may just sip koko all the way through a coup. You can image him in Kpandai, taking part in boiled yam and kontomire stew, staring at Parliament erupt over his seat and murmuring: “Please call me when they finish.”

But the actual casualties on this complete spectacle had been the folks of Kpandai, staring at Honourables struggle over emptiness letters whilst they just longed for illustration. Democracy, in the meantime, used to be on quick damage, ingesting Fanta and chewing bofrot in the back of the Speaker’s place of business. A annoyed voter someplace certainly shouted on the tv: “Honourables, are we voting today or rehearsing for a drama competition?”

Eventually Parliament adjourned — which in Ghana merely approach the noise has paused, now not ended. No minds had been modified, no conclusions had been reached, and the Kpandai seat remained as vacant because the reasoning that began the chaos. Order used to be “restored,” which means handiest that the shouting had stopped lengthy sufficient for the microphones to leisure.

And so the Republic realized another time that within the House of Uncommon Sense, a majority can nonetheless behave like a minority, a unmarried seat can spark non secular war, a easy letter may cause World War Table, and Parliament can adjourn whilst Common Sense stands outdoor, nonetheless looking forward to its flip to go into.

Ladies and gents, our democracy is alive — however like that cussed hairdresser, it insists on completing the coiffure even if the kid is crying.

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DISCLAIMER: The Views, Comments, Opinions, Contributions and Statements made via Readers and Contributors in this platform don’t essentially constitute the perspectives or coverage of Multimedia Group Limited.