International Conference Centre needs ‘further and better particulars’

Come with me! Together, let’s enter a large auditorium and get seated. We are formally dressed (in suits and gorgeous African wear) because we’re at an important world-class event. With you and I comfortably seated in the auditorium are over 1,000 people from all over the world. Then suddenly, phooooffff— the light goes off about two hours after the event began. You turn left and you turn right and all you see is pitch darkness. Then you feel fear. I’m a pack of nerves seated next to you. People around us in the darkness begin to murmur, confused, and upset. We overhear someone say, “Oh Africa! What a shame, Ghana!” With such comments, I shrink to a nut-size, in shame. Some people begin to walk out—probably out of fear of the unknown spooky darkness. But in our confused state (since there is no pandemonium), you and I remain seated and hope and pray that the light comes back on—soon.

Don’t be surprised at all—such a thing happens in a matter-of-fact sort of way at the Accra International Conference Centre, Ghana’s premier venue for high-class global conferences for top-notch guests to our country.

Names matter!!

There is something in a name; or—there should be. When the name of a place is predicated with the word ‘International’, that place must necessarily be of international standards—without any exception; and must be like what pertains on any first-class global stage like it is in ‘international’ venues in London, Dubai, New York City or Madrid. There should be no difference. For after all, the word international is made up of ‘inter’ and ‘national’ (between nations); ‘inter’ being the differentiator.

The name ‘international’ conjures up high expectations that should take one’s breadth away as s/he salivates! As a matter of fact, people do not like to have their expectations violated. ‘International’ therefore carries a promise that must not be broken. Some antonyms of international are domestic, local and native. These opposites of international do not conjure up international standards. They leave room for exploration that could end up with both positive and negative surprises.

For instance, we have the National Theatre; being ‘national’ leaves it in the realm of the local, domestic and national level of standards—no holds bar. It is excusable if we choose to run down that place because it is just ‘national’—for us only. But Dear Lord, not the Accra International Conference Centre! Unless we decide to drop the handle ‘inter’ and change the name to National Conference Centre, we have an international obligation to maintain international standards to the international community. We do however still have the freedom and option to effect a name change. But until we change that name, the International Conference Centre must be above criticism and must truly be of ‘international’ standards.

Built 22 years ago in 1991 to host the 10th Ministerial Meeting of the Non-Aligned Movement, it has served as a venue for large gatherings, usually of a formal nature where we receive the movers and shakers of the world. We’ve bragged a lot that Ghana is ‘the gateway to Africa.’ So that makes the International Conference Centre one of the key gateways into Ghana itself. Conferences are opportunities for thinkers to voice out their thoughts; granted that at times these conferences are mere talk-shops. But talk is not cheap! Talk is priceless.

For three continuous days last week, I felt unsafe for myself and embarrassed for Ghana. I had signed up to attend a three-day Congress of African Accountants so I was at that venue as early as 8:30 in the mornings until about 5 or 6 in the evenings.

May be it is the fact that the place is aging—if we can refer to a 22 year-old facility as aging! Or most probably it is our local tendencies not to manage things well; and even that we have a poor maintenance culture. Or, it is both. I can’t tell. But what I know for sure is that I felt a certain amount of discomfort and embarrassment over the three-day period. And it is not right to feel that kind of way at Ghana’s premier venue to welcome guests.

When a venue of this stature causes embarrassment, the embarrassment is passed on effectively to the image of Ghana. It is as if someone held a paint brush to paint embarrassment over our fine country. No amount of ‘Branding Ghana’ interventions will clean up such inflicted embarrassments. But oh, I digress! What in the world happened to the ‘Branding Ghana’ fun fair? Was it just one of those much-ado-about-nothing loose talk for which much national money is squandered and never accounted for; and which do not show any outcomes of consequence?

During the periods of light-off when we sat in pitch darkness in the main auditorium, I wondered what I would do if there was a fire-outbreak followed by the usual stampede to escape. I knew that my pint-size body would have had no chance and would effectively have been crushed into a small mushy pulp.

I was seated at the very front row. The distance from the front of the auditorium to the main entrance would have been a tricky journey as an escape route. Attempting to run would have landed me face down on the floor because the step landings are awkwardly constructed. And—I didn’t see definite exit points like it pertains in truly international venues.

The lights went off at least once a day on each of the three days I spent at the Centre. In the main auditorium, when light goes off, the place becomes completely dark. It is a disarming and frightening experience. Of course the public address system stops working so proceedings stop and gloom descends on the place.

Watch the steps! Swagger moments away!

May be we just love exposure to risks! Opportunities to get hurt abound at our premier conference venue. I personally experienced a trap for falling. I had observed that when speakers were stepping off the podium, some of them swagger and almost fall. I sat there wondering what was causing that while feeling the weight of the embarrassment as a Ghanaian. I said to myself that whatever was causing speakers to almost fall would not happen to me (Tofiakwa!)

Then, it got to my turn to speak. Yours truly walked graciously up the stage. At the podium, I stepped up to a raised platform to give me the benefit of a few inches of height. When I was done speaking, before I could say ‘Oh My God’ under my breadth, I was dizzying away close to a fall. This near-fall happened although I was being very careful and I had prior knowledge that there was something weird in that space designed intentionally to make people feel unbalanced and almost fall! Without a doubt, there is nothing ‘international’ about this trap placed strategically to push people down. Whoever is responsible for this should wake up or someday, someone will fall and end up in the Supreme Court to insist on a submission of ‘further and better particulars.’


Written by Dr. Doris Yaa Dartey
The WatchWoman Column
Email: [email protected]