The moon rose over the Agyakrom Arena. The cheers of the crowd had dulled into background chatter—like trotro horns during rush hour, still noisy but no longer thrilling. Cedi, our patched-up fighter, still danced around the giants, but something was changing.
The bandage that once felt secure now itched like an overdue debt. The steroids, once burning like fresh palm wine, were thinning in his veins. His arms felt heavier, his legs slower. The roars of the crowd, once intoxicating, now sounded faint—like applause from people too far away to buy you kenkey.
Dollar Notices First
Dollar, the loud landlord of the arena, smirked.
“Ah, I knew it. Steroids are expensive friends. Look at him—breathing harder, swinging softer. My oil invoices will not wait forever. Reserves are draining, and soon he will come crawling.”
He stretched, broad-chested, and tapped his oil barrels like drums. The sound alone made importers nervous.
Pound Adjusts His Monocle
Pound, still holding tuition bills in one hand and spare parts in the other, leaned forward.
“September is coming, my boy. Parents will need me, car mechanics will need me, consultants will need me. When they rush, you will stumble again. Your bandage cannot stop school fees.”
He chuckled in that smug British way—half sarcasm, half invoice.
Euro Shuffles His Papers
Euro, tall and silent, stacked his regulatory files.
“Imports due, my friend. You may beat me in applause, but my clipboards are patient. Machinery orders, wheat cargo, vaccines, pharmaceuticals—they are already on their way. When they land, your boosters will not save you.”
He smiled thinly, as if to say: “I am bureaucracy. I do not rush, but I never forget.”
The Crowd Begins to Doubt
From Makola to Kejetia, people started to whisper again.
- “Ei, but why hasn’t kenkey price dropped?”
- “Transport still the same—didn’t they say Dollar is down?”
- “Hmmm, the cedi is slowing. Or is it just me?”
The kelewele seller sighed. “Miracles don’t fry plantain. Only palm oil and patience do.”
Cedi Feels the Ache
Cedi swung another punch at Pound, but it missed. He tried to jab at Euro, but his arm trembled. The ache under the bandage was now louder than the crowd.
For the first time since the miracle, Cedi whispered to himself:
“Am I healed, or just high?”
He looked at the medics in the corner. They were already rummaging for another vial, another injection. He shivered. Steroids made him strong, but also made him afraid—afraid of the moment they ran out.
The Old Wise Man Shakes His Head
Under the baobab, the Old Wise Man spoke again:
“Anomaa a ɔntua dua so a, ɛto no fam.”
(The bird that refuses to perch will fall.)
“Cedi must learn that you cannot fight forever on borrowed wings. The medicine was good for standing up, but standing up is not the same as standing strong. If he refuses to pause, to rebuild, to rest on solid perches – exports, savings, buffers – he will fall again. And this time, the crowd will not be surprised.”
Policy Reflection — The Fading Steroid Effect
- Reserve Drain: Central bank interventions buy temporary calm, but without new inflows, reserves shrink and confidence erodes.
- Seasonal Pressures: Tuition, import bills, and debt servicing create recurrent demand spikes that return as soon as the boosters fade.
- Sticky Prices: Inflation slows, but structural costs (fuel, food imports, levies) prevent prices from falling quickly, souring public perception.
- Credibility Risk: Markets, traders, and citizens can sense when recovery is built on chemicals, not capacity.
Lesson: Steroids are for emergencies, not diets. Rely on them too long, and they lose their power – while the underlying wound deepens.
Dr. Asiamah's Gazette 