we should be advocating for NSS allowance to be increased from 715cedis ($63) to something more reasonable.
taking home $63 after 30days is criminal. we need to change that.
considering the cost of living in our country, giving a university graduate 715cedis monthly, is w!ckedness. we shouldn’t entertain that.
nobody should sit in the office and even be happy about this. we have allowed these things for too long.
we should be advocating for NSS allowance to be increased from 715cedis ($63) to something more reasonable.
taking home $63 after 30days is criminal. we need to change that.
considering the cost of living in our country, giving a university graduate 715cedis monthly, is w!ckedness. we shouldn’t entertain that.
nobody should sit in the office and even be happy about this. we have allowed these things for too long.
🇨🇮 Yan Diomandé’s letter to his sister through @PlayersTribune:
“Dear Roxane,
Remember when someone bought me a fake United shirt, and I wrote “Ronaldo 7” on the back with a black Sharpie? We didn’t know what rich or poor was. We only knew happiness.
Remember the 25 people sleeping in just one house back in Abidjan? Mom wanted to watch her soap operas. Everyone wanted to watch movies. Remember how I’d always pretend I was asleep and then sneak to the TV room after midnight? I’d turn the TV way down low. Like, just two volume bars. I’d watch soccer in the dark and dream.
Remember when the grown-ups saw me playing soccer on the dirt and gave me the nickname “Roberto Carlos” because of how hard I kicked? And remember how I secretly got so mad about it, because CR7 was my idol?
Remember when I went to play so far from home? I was 9 years old. Inter Foot Sud Comoé, way out near the border with Ghana. Just a little boy all alone. I don’t know if I ever told you this story, but me and the other kids used to go to the village and steal potatoes because we were so hungry. We called it a “bank heist.” Two kids would distract the shop owner, and the other 18 would run off with two potatoes. They weren’t even good. But they tasted amazing. Hahahah. Even today, it’s my favorite thing to eat. Boiled potatoes with a little oil. It takes me back to those times.
Remember when I got my first real pair of cleats, and I slept with them? Growing up, I always played in those white plastic sandals. Even when I go back home now, I still play in them. It’s our tradition.
Remember when I’d come back home, and you’d tell my neighborhood friends: “Why’d you stop training? Yan’s not gonna buy you cars. You gotta keep working.” You were 10 years old, and you were already my agent.
Remember how we’d sit and dream about moving to France? How we’d go shopping, have our own apartment, and I’d be a rich soccer player, with cars and a big house, and you wouldn’t have to worry about anything. You were the one who always believed I could be the next Cristiano, when everyone else was laughing.
Remember when I moved to the United States for high school, at 15 years old, and I missed home so much? For months, I couldn’t understand what anyone was saying. They sat me next to a French boy, and he’d try to translate everything the teacher said. Remember when I called you and said: “You won’t believe it, the kids here argue with the teachers.” Back home, you know, we wouldn’t even dare blink at our elders.
Remember when I couldn’t believe the boys smoked after school? You used to say it felt like I was in an American TV show.
Remember when they took me for trials at Bournemouth? At Chelsea, Rangers, Olympiacos, Crystal Palace? Eze and Olise came up to me after a training session and said: “Hey, kid, you’re really good.”… but even then, they didn’t sign me.
Even the MLS B teams didn’t want me. I didn’t even know why. They never gave me a reason. The adults handled everything. They just kept taking me all over Europe, and everyone kept saying no.
My visa expired. My dream was over. They sent me back to Africa, and we cried together. You were the only one who never stopped believing. A few weeks later, I signed with Leganés, and we cried different tears.
That was back when I still had emotions. Now, I don’t feel anything. It’s like I’m not even human. Since you died, I’m just empty.”
So much is happening at the same time.
A hospital CEO is suspended.
Doctors are on strike.
Nurses are threatening industrial action.
I also read that ministers are receiving awards.
Party foot soldiers are defending positions they would have condemned if the other side had done the same.
Meanwhile, patients are caught in the middle.
So who is solving the real problem?
An emergency department designed to accommodate about 30 patients cannot safely function when more than 60 patients occupy the same space.
That should not be a political argument.
It is a patient safety concern.
There is substantial evidence linking emergency department overcrowding to delayed care, medical errors, staff burnout, longer hospital stays, and increased mortality.
If a health leader, regardless of who appointed him, raises concerns about unsafe conditions, the response should be to investigate, provide resources, and take corrective action.
Confrontation does not create hospital beds.
Suspending people will not reduce congestion.
I see a worrying deterioration in the relationship between the Minister of Health and health professionals, particularly doctors.
That is not healthy for any healthcare system.
Ministers are not expected to be experts in every technical aspect of the sectors they oversee.
They are expected to provide leadership, exercise sound judgment, build consensus, and bring stakeholders together around solutions.
I hope we can move toward a more constructive relationship between policymakers and the professionals delivering care before the situation deteriorates further.
Now, does a two-week suspension justify industrial action?
That is a legitimate question.
Professional associations should also reflect on whether strikes have become the default mechanism for seeking redress.
A strike attracts attention.
It does not necessarily solve the underlying problem.
There must be room for sustained advocacy, negotiation, and institutional problem-solving before patients become collateral damage.
Or perhaps industrial action has become so common because it is the only language politicians respond to.
As for the ministerial awards, I struggle to understand what exactly is being celebrated.
Antoine Semenyo is the exact example of nothing happens for a while then everything happens at once. I’m not too bothered when my life enters a grinding phase. Just have to stay prepared for when the harvest comes.
@Mr_Ceyram some people are just stupid boss. he insulted prominent people in the country including the Asantehene, Former President, Chief Justice, Stonebwoy and his family etc. 🤦🏾💔