When machomen are let loose...
It is a hot afternoon on December 7, 2004. The sticky hot air notwithstanding, long queue of voters snake across the dusty school park, anxiety written over their faces.
Not far away, Mad Lion, the leader of the muscled men, sits restlessly on the edge of the concrete pillar holding up the wooden bridge. He chuckles to himself with satisfaction as he monitors the rowdy behaviour of the group he calls “The Boys”.
Occasionally, they would stop a voter suspected to likely cast the ballot for the party they are opposed to. Angered or intimidated, the potential voter would turn around and head home. The few brave ones who dared to ask questions get away with a bloodied mouth or a twisted arm.
Mad Lion would occasionally intervene but not without advising the victim to vote for ‘honourable,’ his preferred candidate.
That is not all, electoral officers are occasionally forced to allow some voters to jump the queue. With shirts off and their bulging muscles on display, the strictest presiding officer snaps to attention to carry out the order.
The night before, Mad Lion had met ‘honourable’ behind the scenes to sort out what is due ‘The Boys’. The election was down to the wire and ‘honourable’s’ image has seen a downward trend since the last election. His sense of optimism has developed wings.
“Listen, this race is stiff; I want you to concentrate on the list I have given you. Go to those polling stations and muddy the waters as much as you can. If possible snatch one or two ballot boxes before the counting begins.”
“There will be a team waiting for you right under the overpass, swap the content of the box and later abandon it where they can easily see it.”
“Lion, remember no mistakes. I will try as much as possible to cover you guys, but if you make any grievous mistakes, you are on your own. Here is half of the cash I promised,” ‘honourable’ said wiping the film of sweat dripping down his brow.
Mad Lion pulls out the wad of cash from the polythene bag, sniffs it with some air of satisfaction, he drops the cash back into his pocket and put up a pensive face.
With the cash in his pocket, he looks honourable in the face and stammers, “ho-ho-honourable, this one is baaack pay for fu-fu-four yeeeears ago. After the job, we no see you again. If you no pay for this year, we no go do the job.”
Honourable shocked at the turn of events punched his right palm with a clenched left fist. He removes his cap, pulls out his handkerchief and mops his face. Then, a willy grin crosses his face before he spoke, “Lion listen, I will do you guys fine, I promise. Four years ago, I spent so much the pocket dried after the elections. Listen I will take care of you later and I mean it. You know me.”
To that, Mad Lion shakes his head and mumbles, “Honourable, you said that in 1996 and all those boys think say, I collect the money den chop. You no see sey ibi different boys I dey use now?”
With a defeated demeanour, the MP dips his hand into his pocket and strikes Lion on the chest with wads of cash that scatters on the floor. Casting his eyes around, as if his location was a forbidden one, he walked out of the uncompleted gym full of car rims disguised as weightlifting equipment.
That night lubricated with a few bottles of beer, The Boys planned their strategy to intimidate and cause chaos at not less 10 polling stations.
Just about 20 minutes’ walk from Mad Lion’s meeting base, another group of lawless boys are planning a similar campaign with honourable’s main opponent.
Back to the polling station, Roberta Kekeli, a Polling Assistant, is checking names of voters with fear determining every step. “I am frightened because trouble is not far away,” she said looking around at the rowdy squad of muscled youth.
The polling station had been promised a security person, but by mid-afternoon none of Accra’s finest had bothered to show up.
Trouble’s ugly head appeared when two young men walked to the polling station, jumped the queue, voted but refused to leave the station.
At that moment, Mad Lion nodded to a tall heavily-bearded young man in shorts. The rascal walked quietly over to the Presidential ballot box, picked it and jumped onto a motorbike and disappeared.
Another person dashed to the parliamentary ballot box but met resistance from one of the three young men. A melee ensued between The Boys and young men who by now have increased in numbers. The struggle over the ballot boxes continued as if their very lives depended on it.
With everyone pushing and shoving but never crossing that fine line into full-fledge brawl, the electoral officials stared in disbelieve. Half-hearted voters chorused “no macho men,” but this vaporised as soon as Mad Lion jumped from his sitting position, chest out and with calculated heavy steps began to move close to the commotion.
Just when all hope of avoiding punch-up was vanishing in the hot afternoon air, a van pulled up and emptied a dozen policemen.
As if with on cue, the shouting immediately died, the macho men dispersed, and the voters snapped into a disciplined line.
A bulky-looking officer screamed at his men to take position. A few minutes later, total order was restored and voting business continued with Roberta and his colleagues now at ease.
The policemen pranced around for a few minutes before returning to their vehicles in preparation to depart.
The scenario above is not far from real as it is a real life story shared with the Daily Graphic by a Macho man who only asked to be called Mad Lion.
At the centre of the reported cases of violence and intimidation, which is burning the country’s electoral integrity at the stake, are allegations of well-built or muscled young men popularly referred to as ‘Machos’ in Ghana parading electoral areas during elections for reasons best known to particularly the two strongest political parties–the National Democratic Congress and the New Patriotic Party.
These thugs sprung from relative obscurity and became part of the country’s political sphere at the dawn of the Fourth Republic. The phenomenon has become so engraved in the country’s electoral culture that, during the 2004, 2008 and subsequent by-elections, macho men became endangered species, with callers to radio phone-in programmes openly declaring that they would organise to ‘deal’ with any macho man seen around polling stations.
The NDC and the NPP were also at each other’s throat for engaging the ‘muscle-men’ during the 2008 general election and by-elections held afterward with the current MP for Assin North, Mr Kennedy Agyepong, alleged to have openly said he engaged a thousand muscled men in 2008 to protect the interest of the party.
Supporters of the parties in attempts to rationalise the engagement of these characters have linked it to attempts by the two parties to increase their presence on the ground to protect the ballots, but the result has always been chaos.
It is in the light of these that the decision of Machomen for Good and Justice, an association of body builders, to adopt a stance against violence and intimidation in the electoral process should be applauded.
From their own gruelling accounts, many of their colleagues from 1992 have either been killed or maimed. But their paymasters always avoid them right after the elections.
While it will be difficult to control all these people, the commitment of a few to ensuring that the election is free of intimidation would breathe more air of confidence into the process.
Nana Osei, a member of the association, aptly summarised what many of us feel about Macho men who channel their energy into nothing but elections, “I am saddened when people say Ghanaian Macho men are stealing ballot boxes when their colleagues elsewhere are winning Olympic medals.”
Not far away, Mad Lion, the leader of the muscled men, sits restlessly on the edge of the concrete pillar holding up the wooden bridge. He chuckles to himself with satisfaction as he monitors the rowdy behaviour of the group he calls “The Boys”.
Occasionally, they would stop a voter suspected to likely cast the ballot for the party they are opposed to. Angered or intimidated, the potential voter would turn around and head home. The few brave ones who dared to ask questions get away with a bloodied mouth or a twisted arm.
Mad Lion would occasionally intervene but not without advising the victim to vote for ‘honourable,’ his preferred candidate.
That is not all, electoral officers are occasionally forced to allow some voters to jump the queue. With shirts off and their bulging muscles on display, the strictest presiding officer snaps to attention to carry out the order.
The night before, Mad Lion had met ‘honourable’ behind the scenes to sort out what is due ‘The Boys’. The election was down to the wire and ‘honourable’s’ image has seen a downward trend since the last election. His sense of optimism has developed wings.
“Listen, this race is stiff; I want you to concentrate on the list I have given you. Go to those polling stations and muddy the waters as much as you can. If possible snatch one or two ballot boxes before the counting begins.”
“There will be a team waiting for you right under the overpass, swap the content of the box and later abandon it where they can easily see it.”
“Lion, remember no mistakes. I will try as much as possible to cover you guys, but if you make any grievous mistakes, you are on your own. Here is half of the cash I promised,” ‘honourable’ said wiping the film of sweat dripping down his brow.
Mad Lion pulls out the wad of cash from the polythene bag, sniffs it with some air of satisfaction, he drops the cash back into his pocket and put up a pensive face.
With the cash in his pocket, he looks honourable in the face and stammers, “ho-ho-honourable, this one is baaack pay for fu-fu-four yeeeears ago. After the job, we no see you again. If you no pay for this year, we no go do the job.”
Honourable shocked at the turn of events punched his right palm with a clenched left fist. He removes his cap, pulls out his handkerchief and mops his face. Then, a willy grin crosses his face before he spoke, “Lion listen, I will do you guys fine, I promise. Four years ago, I spent so much the pocket dried after the elections. Listen I will take care of you later and I mean it. You know me.”
To that, Mad Lion shakes his head and mumbles, “Honourable, you said that in 1996 and all those boys think say, I collect the money den chop. You no see sey ibi different boys I dey use now?”
With a defeated demeanour, the MP dips his hand into his pocket and strikes Lion on the chest with wads of cash that scatters on the floor. Casting his eyes around, as if his location was a forbidden one, he walked out of the uncompleted gym full of car rims disguised as weightlifting equipment.
That night lubricated with a few bottles of beer, The Boys planned their strategy to intimidate and cause chaos at not less 10 polling stations.
Just about 20 minutes’ walk from Mad Lion’s meeting base, another group of lawless boys are planning a similar campaign with honourable’s main opponent.
Back to the polling station, Roberta Kekeli, a Polling Assistant, is checking names of voters with fear determining every step. “I am frightened because trouble is not far away,” she said looking around at the rowdy squad of muscled youth.
The polling station had been promised a security person, but by mid-afternoon none of Accra’s finest had bothered to show up.
Trouble’s ugly head appeared when two young men walked to the polling station, jumped the queue, voted but refused to leave the station.
At that moment, Mad Lion nodded to a tall heavily-bearded young man in shorts. The rascal walked quietly over to the Presidential ballot box, picked it and jumped onto a motorbike and disappeared.
Another person dashed to the parliamentary ballot box but met resistance from one of the three young men. A melee ensued between The Boys and young men who by now have increased in numbers. The struggle over the ballot boxes continued as if their very lives depended on it.
With everyone pushing and shoving but never crossing that fine line into full-fledge brawl, the electoral officials stared in disbelieve. Half-hearted voters chorused “no macho men,” but this vaporised as soon as Mad Lion jumped from his sitting position, chest out and with calculated heavy steps began to move close to the commotion.
Just when all hope of avoiding punch-up was vanishing in the hot afternoon air, a van pulled up and emptied a dozen policemen.
As if with on cue, the shouting immediately died, the macho men dispersed, and the voters snapped into a disciplined line.
A bulky-looking officer screamed at his men to take position. A few minutes later, total order was restored and voting business continued with Roberta and his colleagues now at ease.
The policemen pranced around for a few minutes before returning to their vehicles in preparation to depart.
The scenario above is not far from real as it is a real life story shared with the Daily Graphic by a Macho man who only asked to be called Mad Lion.
At the centre of the reported cases of violence and intimidation, which is burning the country’s electoral integrity at the stake, are allegations of well-built or muscled young men popularly referred to as ‘Machos’ in Ghana parading electoral areas during elections for reasons best known to particularly the two strongest political parties–the National Democratic Congress and the New Patriotic Party.
These thugs sprung from relative obscurity and became part of the country’s political sphere at the dawn of the Fourth Republic. The phenomenon has become so engraved in the country’s electoral culture that, during the 2004, 2008 and subsequent by-elections, macho men became endangered species, with callers to radio phone-in programmes openly declaring that they would organise to ‘deal’ with any macho man seen around polling stations.
The NDC and the NPP were also at each other’s throat for engaging the ‘muscle-men’ during the 2008 general election and by-elections held afterward with the current MP for Assin North, Mr Kennedy Agyepong, alleged to have openly said he engaged a thousand muscled men in 2008 to protect the interest of the party.
Supporters of the parties in attempts to rationalise the engagement of these characters have linked it to attempts by the two parties to increase their presence on the ground to protect the ballots, but the result has always been chaos.
It is in the light of these that the decision of Machomen for Good and Justice, an association of body builders, to adopt a stance against violence and intimidation in the electoral process should be applauded.
From their own gruelling accounts, many of their colleagues from 1992 have either been killed or maimed. But their paymasters always avoid them right after the elections.
While it will be difficult to control all these people, the commitment of a few to ensuring that the election is free of intimidation would breathe more air of confidence into the process.
Nana Osei, a member of the association, aptly summarised what many of us feel about Macho men who channel their energy into nothing but elections, “I am saddened when people say Ghanaian Macho men are stealing ballot boxes when their colleagues elsewhere are winning Olympic medals.”
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