28th February 1948.
4:30 am.
Nii Amarteifio was seated upright on the mattress, deep in thought as he pondered, deep in thought as he looked around the room covered in darkness and pondered over what was to go down that day.
Finally, the day had come for him and many other ex-servicemen to make their voices heard by those in authority.
Everything was in place, as far as he had been informed. Mr. Tamakloe had met with the Superintendent of the Accra Police Force and received the routes and instructions for the day, and assured him that he would be able to keep the procession in check.
Apparently, a meeting had been held at the Palladium Cinema the previous night concerning the march, where the big guns of the United Gold Coast Convention showed up to lend their support to the ex-servicemen. Nii Amarteifio had not been able to attend it, however.
Not that it mattered too much, though. What mattered was that the day of action had come. And he was ready.
As he continued to look around, the only sound in the room being the snores of his little boys, memories of the war continued to replay in his mind. Mental images of all those gruesome periods. All those years spent in the jungles of Burma, battling against the fierce Japanese forces.
What a tough war it had been.
Now it was time for him and all other ex-servicemen to make that major step towards getting what was due them.
***
“Daa, please, Mr. Hagan is outside. He said I should tell you he’s ready.”
Nii Amarteifio was busily putting on his military attire when he heard the voice of Ayi, the oldest of his three children, asking to come in. Once he gave him the go-ahead, the ten year-old duly informed him that one of the other ex-servicemen was around.
He nodded in acknowledgment. “Tell him I’ll be out in a couple of minutes.”
“Yes, Da.” Ayi duly moved out.
Nii Amarteifio checked his appearance in the mirror one more time and nodded in satisfaction.
Sharply dressed as always in his khaki drill shirt and shorts, and the Kilmarnock hat.
He stepped out of the room and saw Naa Anyema seated at the table with the other two children, busily feeding them. She paused for a moment and looked in his direction.
Nii Amarteifio saw the look of protest in her eyes. She didn’t need to open her mouth for him to know she still felt this would be more problematic than problem-solving, and that he would be better off if he just let this whole thing go.
He snorted to himself. Fat chance of that happening. The last thing he needed was her nonsensical babble filling his head.
Which was why he was leaving the house this early. The procession was scheduled to start around 1:30 pm, but he was going to spend the morning with other ex-servicemen before heading to the Polo Ground where they were to assemble while their elected representatives went to present the petition to the Secretariat of the Governor.
“I’m going now. See you later,” he said succinctly before walking out the door to meet with his fellow ex-serviceman.
***
“So what’s the route the colonials gave us again?”
“Christiansborg Road to Court, then Round Court to Pagan Road, onto Horse Road, then Lutterodt Street to High Street and we’ll disperse at White House.”
“Right. Well noted.”
The Polo Grounds were packed that afternoon. Many an ex-serviceman were present, clad in their khaki drill shirts and shorts, ready to make their disgruntled and dissatisfied voices heard.
Many sympathizers were present as well. Friends and relatives of the ex-servicemen could be found all around the grounds, encouraging their gallant heroes to make sure an impact was made.
Nii Amarteifio, who was standing with Thaddeus Hagan and a few others, sighed and shook his head as he watched some of his colleagues stand around with their wives egging them on to fight for better conditions.
“My husband, we are with you, okay? We wish you and your fellow soldiers all the best. This nonsense has gone on for too long; it’s time to get what they promised.”
“All the best, me wura. This procession will definitely bear fruit.”
Hmmm, Naa Anyema. If only you had a little bit of common sense in your brain. You should have been here with me, doing what these wise women are doing. But you prefer to talk rubbish every day. Sad…
“TSOOOOOO-BOIIII!”
“HOYAAA!”
Nudged out of his internal rebuke of his wife by that rallying cry, Nii Amarteifio looked and saw the large group of ex-soldiers moving in a certain direction. He nodded and moved after Thaddeus.
“Time to move!”
***
I remember when I was in Burma
I remember when I was in Burma
I remember when I was in Burma
I remember when I was in Burma…
Ten minutes since the procession had officially commenced, and the undeniably large number of ex-servicemen, clad in their military attire, marching along the street as they sang loudly, was a sight to behold for the residents of the surroundings, who cheered them on as they moved.
It was a sight to behold for the police as well, but for different reasons.
From the moment the procession began moving, it seemed as if the ex-servicemen were deviating from the routes they were to pass. At this point, it was blatantly clear that that was the agenda.
The large body of ex-servicemen, in spite of the clear order that they were forbidden by law to do so, were heading to the Christiansborg Castle.
Led by one Sergeant Adjetey, who held a wooden trumpet, they marched on, unperturbed by the orders of the police officers around them to stop and return to the prescribed route. The general consensus among them all was that the colonial government would simply dismiss the petition if they decided to abide by the procedure mapped out for them; a stronger message would hit home once they all showed up at the Castle to see the Governor.
I remember when I was a soldier
I remember when I was a soldier
I remember when I was a soldier
I remember when I was a soldier…
The singing and marching on to Christiansborg Road continued, with Sergeant Adjetey fiercely leading the troops, blowing on his trumpet every now and then.
They arrived at the Prince of Wales Gardens, the triangular ground that formed the junction between Christiansborg Road, Castle Road, and Rowe Road. The loud sound of a bugle being blown pierced the air.
In front of Castle Road stood a group of police officers, well-armed and ready for battle, and before them stood the Superintendent of the Accra force, Colin Imray, looking as displeased as could be.
He immediately stepped forward, hand raised. He roared, “STOP! STOP RIGHT NOW!”
The procession before him barely heeded his command, moving closer and closer.
“We want our money! We want our money!” Sergeant Adjetey chanted, his right fist in the air as he briefly turned to the troops behind him to ginger them to join in. in seconds, the chants of “We want our money!” filled the air in one deafening roar as the ex-servicemen made it clear they meant business.
At this point, it was clear that a large number of sympathizers had joined the ex-servicemen in their procession, and as one would expect, these sympathizers were disillusioned with the state of affairs and wanted to make their frustrations heard and seen. As the ex-servicemen continued to chant, some of these sympathizers grabbed stones and threw them at the police officers. A few officers were downed in the process.
“STOP RIGHT NOW! YOU’RE GOING TO STOP, OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE!” Superintendent Imray roared, his hand still up in the air.
The fierce chanting did not cease.
The stone-throwing did not cease.
This large group was not going to kowtow to the demands of this government and its lackeys in this one. Not at all.
Superintendent Imray stood back and giving the signal to the men behind him, called out, “FIRE!”
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
Not a single rifle went off.
Imray looked back at his men in disbelief and rage, then looked back at the crowd.
Sergeant Adjetey was blowing on the trumpet, and they continued to surge forward, ready to overpower the human roadblock in front of them.
Without saying another word, Superintendent Imray turned to one of the officers behind him, snatched the rifle out of his hands, and took aim…
… and fired twice.
Sergeant Adjetey and Private Odartey Lamptey, who had closely followed the former, instantly fell.
The crowd stopped in their tracks.
Superintendent Imray fired four more shots.
Pandemonium ensued.
***
“AAAARGHHHH!”
Nii Amarteifio screamed in pain as one of the four bullets crashed through his elbow. Falling to the ground just at the same time the crowd dispersed in panic, the pain shot through his entire body.
“AAAAAAGH! MY ARM! MY ARM! MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN!”
Hmmm, the infamous shooting of the three ex-servicemen in real-time. But our man’s been hit, too. Hopefully, he makes it…
