Morning After The Night Before: The Story Ebony Never Finished

She was talented, brazen, youthful, exuberant, and even refreshingly rebellious. She was an Ebony!

In life as in death, Priscilla Opoku Kwarteng and controversy fit well into many contexts.

In many ways, she was a mystery wrapped in a riddle hidden in an enigma.

She, known better by her stage name ‘Ebony’, was — and probably still is, to the few pitifully hopeful fans of hers who believe her reported confirmed demise is but a tasteless prank she’d soon snap out of — an enigma of a sort Ghanaian showbiz hasn’t seen since Daddy Lumba in his prime, a character who divided opinions so sharply you’d easily forget she sprang out of her teens  and into the realm of national consciousness not long ago.

Because of the sheer enormity of her body of work in the brief period she held us all spellbound, it is almost forgivable to lose sight of the fact that she was barely an adult who, in the face of a lengthy her rap sheet of alleged wrongdoing Ghanaians leveled at her, stood for what she believed in, lived and dared to be different.


Truth be told, it’s hard to cast Ebony into a particular mould — her vivacious, dynamic self just wouldn’t permit it. For a dancehall artiste, she did gospel too well (more on that later), and for a girl whose sense of fashion would make her a perfect fit at any club on a sweaty Friday night, Ebony’s voice would hardly have been out of place as part of a sombre Sunday service choir. Like I said, you just couldn’t tag her — unless you were the ‘mortuary man’ at the Bechem Government Hospital charged with that uneasy duty.

It’s easy to remember Ebony as one of the naughty ones — her own nickname, identifying her as a self-styled ‘90s BadGyal’, left little doubt about that. Her eye-poppingly suggestive choice of clothing for music videos, live performances and even TV interviews, along with a catalogue of risqué stagecraft, did plenty to validate the said moniker. She was brazen in that regard, presenting herself in a manner that Ghanaians hadn’t had stamped into their orbital regions since Mzbel’s star dimmed — and, really, Ebony in many ways was like Mzbel, only more talented and daring. Half of the society she sought to entertain — an exuberant, even rebellious, youthful army seeking a poster figure for an increasingly liberal outlook — egged her on, while the other half — unwavering in their resolve to stay conventional and desperate to preserve norms of morality apparently being dragged down the drain by Ebony and her likes — slammed her afresh after each show.

Oh, and about her music itself? Where do I even start?

Well, let’s just say only her appearance made her lyrics — loaded with double entendres that would make even the notoriously vulgar Lumba envious — seem mild. If you could read between lines she rarely ever left unblurred, you’d easily realize hits like ‘Kupe’, ‘Poison’, ‘Sponsor’ and the incredibly popular ‘Hustle’ were packaged and delivered to convey so much subtlety.


That, though, was just one of Ebony’s faces. Like the mythological god Janus, she had another which stared right in the opposite direction. For every ‘Dancefloor’ that begged to be wiggled to at the waist and would long remain a staple on the, er, dancefloor, (forgive the pun), there was a ‘Maame Hwe’ which tugged at even her harshest critic’s heart and has come to stay forever and a day as the anthem for the campaign against domestic violence in Ghana. And for every gospel-heavy ‘Aseda’(which, per revelations after her death, many now discern as an ultimately futile attempt to curb ‘prophecies’ about her premature death) that a mom-of-six trader at the Makola market would hum to herself as she assembles her wares each morning, there is a innuendo-laden ‘Hustle’ (the video of which actually has a market setting) that some Circle-based (a few ‘circles’ in Accra actually) ladies-of-the-night wouldn’t mind having as their unofficial soundtrack as they go about their nocturnal business.

To think that Ebony crammed all of this between 2015 and now is even more startling than anything she’d actually accomplished. It’s why she has had her genius acknowledged and has been mourned by many whose professional affairs have little to do with a music studio, including international football stars as well as past and sitting Ghanaian presidents. Indeed, while 2017 may have only been her second full year in the limelight, it already qualified as something of an annus mirabilis; the ‘Bonyfied’ album she launched in December last year was only her maiden compilation, but we knew it would only be the first of many. Now, though, it’s certain that offering would eternally stand alone as a body of work to be prized as a collector’s item, an enduring memory of one who did more with three of her 20 years on earth to define Ghanaian music than any of her gender — yes, there have been an awful lot of those, I know — has in contemporary history. Ebony remains in contention to become the first female ever to be named the upcoming Ghana Music Awards’ Artiste of the Year (the icing on what is expected to be quite a haul), anyway — and not just because of some sympathetic swing.

Priscilla Opoku Kwarteng (Feb 16, 1997 – Feb 8, 2018)

But after all tears dry and the dust settles and the ‘pastors’ who have lined up to claim ‘credit’ for Ebony’s February 8 passing each enjoy their 15 minutes of fame (pending the next big tragedy, of course), and after the conspiracy theorists rest their cases about who predicted the misfortune [but shouldn’t have] and who could have averted it [but didn’t], the story would be told of a young lady who boldly bared her body and soul — literally — to Ghanaians all the way down till a saddening and sudden anticlimax.

To borrow the words of Roman politician and general Mark Anthony when he mourned another whose life was brutally truncated while at the peak of their powers. . .

Here was an Ebony!

When comes such another?




Of grammy nominations & shadow Patriotism

When news broke that Ghanaian Reggae artiste Rocky Dawuni had earned a Grammy nomination – making him the first ever Ghanaian to get on the scheme – I am not sure i could muster the courage to explain to those around me who asked why my emotions swang from utter composure; through a feeling of contentment and then to utter sadness.

Indeed, it was a welcome news and it left a lot of people giddy with anticipation. The general refrain was that local Ghanaian artiste had managed such a feat and nobody had a justification for feeling anything other than a genuine sense of pride and happiness…. and in truth, I shared the same thought. I wasn’t going to stick a pin in the balloon – far from it! My excitement was watered down by the possibility that this, like the many we had seen in the past, will go down an all-too-familiar road with a lot of the Ghanaian elite —  people who are assumed smarter and more exposed than the average person walking the streets — who parade themselves on the various social media platforms.  I hoped — however naive that was — that this will be handled maturely and a bit of a much-needed perspective will be brought to play. But it remained just that… hope! I was surely smarter than to think things were going to be different simply because I hoped it will be. The sudden misguided jingoism performative patriotism of the Ghanaian elite and ‘celebrities’ had been awakened on social networks and there was no turning back.

A bit of a background

Until quite recently, say about 10years ago it was great to see any Ghanaian excel at a global stage and we often claimed their determination, sense of self-belief, hard work and their apparent never-say-die attitude in our stride; their achievements as Ghanaian – as if it had anything to do with it. Folks like Osibisa, the Ramblers Band, E.T Mensah, Kofi Annan were all worthy global ambassadors… sold Ghana to the world in their own inimitable way that made us all proud to be associated with them. I quite remember how back in primary school, I smugly basked in the awesomeness that Kofi Annan – then the UN Secretary-General – was Ghanaian. That was a novelty…. And a Black star shining, by extension also I meant I was shining by association. Their hard work, tenacity and application of key values of discipline and commitment to being the very best in their various fields of endeavours were the very values that undergirded our collective pride in their accomplishments. Parallels were drawn, lessons were taught albeit vicariously through the lives of those distinguished individuals with the ultimate aim of keeping the cycle of Ghanaian excellence going. As a young lad, you believed that if only you put in the requisite effort and punctuated with the right attitude, it was only a matter of when no if you’d make it to the very top and be celebrated by young ones after you. This was a big enough draw.

That was way before the advent of social media where success what tied to the number of people you’d have purring out in numbers to spryly publish vaguely inspirational emoji-laden messages of support. Here, support has a strange new definition. You don’t support (in the sense of the word) until you work your way into the consciences of the wider global audience. You become ‘one-of-our-own’ only when you’re in contention for a top global prize having hassled your way through a very rough patch to come to global acclaim even though those self-styled patriots never gave a rat’s ass when their support was most needed and sort for. That in itself isn’t the worse vice in the book — success has a lot of friends — if only the production line for these hashtag-driven bandwagons were not operational and patriotism wasn’t reduced to an avenue to clamour for a few RTs and likes.

A wind of change is blowing through the entertainment scene in Ghana. Its effects have left all objective observers quite perplexed. Reggie n Bollie hustled their way through thick and thin in the UK since ominously leaving the shores of Ghana. They are getting some sort of recognition for their efforts and now every tongue [thumb] in the ever talkative blogosphere……… every tongue that can taste pepper and salt are rallying ‘support’ for them, attempting to partake in the fame [and fortune] they’ve found. You see large swathes of the social media space in Ghana making an erroneous claim that their [Reggie n Bollie] appearance on the British reality show as a “Ghana success story.” I really never cared much about whatever was going in the UK and certainly not a reality show which I stood no chance of watching from my base in Accra but my attention was drawn to it when it became apparent Reggie N bollie’s ‘good deeds’ were earning them some rave reviews in the UK and around the world.

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This wiped up quite some reaction and a gratuitous sense of patriotism amongst folks on those social media spaces (facebook, Instagram, twitter and more annoyingly WhatsApp), canvassing for votes for them ever since they made it to the finals of the UK X-factor. My obvious worry with this kind of ‘patriotism’ is that, it tends to cut out all those who are not Ghanaian from the fanfare and it creates and a We-against-the-world sort of scenario. That could potentially be injurious to their hopes in the competition. What if the millions of Brits decide to play a similar patriotism card and opt to vote for their own irrespective of their performances, what will become of our Reggie n Bollie? That would threaten and eventually defeat the purpose of the TV show in the first place. It is a popularity contest and by the sheer law of averages, we are in the least stead to be playing the nationality card here. The numbers simply does not support us.

Several Ghanaians around the world have shown endeavor and have supported Reggie n Bollie throughout their X-factor journey, but those who’ve actually provided the wings on which they’ve flown to where they are today are the Brits, not the social media activists in Ghana – no matter how well they mean. So if we keep in this harming precedent we’ve set, it shouldn’t come as a surprise to learn they are in fact sauntering farther and farther away from the X-factor crown.

What’s even more alarming is our on-air personalities’ [celebrities] sudden knack for clamoring for votes and public support even though they wallowed in Laodicean indifference when Reggie Zippy and Bollie were back home(Ghana), struggling to make headway in the careers. Does it matter that they probably would never have had such a massive endorsement if it were a local competition in Ghana with the same endeavor they shown which is giving them all the attention?  Does it matter that it had to take citizens of the UK to tell us how good our ‘own’ were? … and what’s it with all the talk of “Ghana flyng High” spluttered all over the social media landscape? With nebulous comments like “Ghana to the world!” My friend had so many repetitions of ‘Ghana to the world!’ splashed across his TL that the comment was virtually coming out of his ears. In his subsequent bout of high fever, he swore he could see his tombstone crawling with several ants, all bearing little flags that read, “Ghana to the World!” [I jest]…

Mr. Dawuni’s success is evidently due to his being such a gregarious person, showing genuine interest in his chosen career. Anyone with such enterprise as prosperous as his “Branches of the same tree” album in my motherland would have been standoffish and pompous. Not so our Rocky. Since his nomination, he’s taken every opportunity to talk down the enormity of his achievement and roped-in some acts in Ghana – singling them out as his inspiration for the work he’s done. Modesty has gotten a new definition. That virtue has taken my respect for him a notch higher and I really hope he goes one better – be the first Ghanaian to actually win a Grammys.

If only my people supported our own no matter what. If only we never talked down our own while praising others. If only we didn’t have to wait for some other people to appreciate our own before we see the quality of our own, maybe…. Just maybe… Yemi Alade wouldn’t have mustered enough courage to dig into Stonebwoy for winning a BET award over her.

The Business of Music : The Wiz Way