Some time ago, I wrote about the story of the bat in our folklore. I suspect some of my friends did not take the moral of that story seriously. And perhaps, it’s a good thing they didn’t. Their skepticism forced me to re-examine my own understanding of the tale, and in doing so, I realized I had overlooked a small but significant point.
The key lesson I missed is this: The bat never learns from its futile ambition to urinate on God. Time and again, it repeats the same hopeless effort, expecting a different outcome. Each time, the bat emerges as the worse victim, yet it persists in its delusion. But as our God is omniscient, He foresaw, from the moment of creation, that creatures of the bat’s ilk would roam the earth, attempting such acts of ingratitude. So, He built gravity into the universe—a law so fundamental that every one of the bat’s foolish ambitions is instantly neutralized. The first consequence? Its attempt is rendered ineffective. The second? The bat itself becomes the casualty of its own folly.
Since I once likened certain individuals to the bat, I now see my naivety in expecting them to learn from its foolish wisdom. Recent events only confirm my exasperation. But we are taught not to give up on a brother too quickly. So, in the spirit of patience and perseverance, I shall try again. This time, with a different story—one that I hope will lead to repentance.
Today, I tell them the story of King Pyrrhus.
He was the King of Epirus, a formidable warrior who fought and won many wars. Yet, despite his victories, he never truly benefited from them. Like the bat, which enjoys the temporary relief of urination but suffers the ultimate consequence of its futile ambition, King Pyrrhus won battles at great cost—so much so that his victories were as ruinous as defeats. In the end, he gained nothing. It is from his campaigns that we derive the phrase “Pyrrhic victory”—a victory so costly that it might as well be a loss.
This phrase is well known among lawyers. Some even call such victories “ineffectual thunderbolts.” Ghanaians witnessed one such victory last year when the Supreme Court ruled in favor of a plaintiff, delivering a judgment heavy with warnings of dire consequences for disobedience. And yet, when all was said and done, the nation realized that the victory was a Pyrrhic one—an ineffectual thunderbolt spiced with a Tantalean curse.
Now, we find ourselves in the era of ORAL. Even before ORAL has had its first real bite, there is already a frenzied, almost Sisyphean effort to drive it forward. The vetting of Hon. Ablakwa and Sam George has shown us just how eagerly we all want to see the promised RESET Ghana.
But the real question is: Who were their assailants?
It appears that this grand agenda to reset the country—using parliamentary vetting as the launchpad—has instead revealed an uncomfortable truth. Rather than an earnest pursuit of accountability, it seems to have been an opportunity for one side of the parliamentary divide to teach some loud ORAL advocates and democratic critics of the previous government a lesson.
So, I ask: Is there something to be learned from the bat and King Pyrrhus here?
To the honourable victims of the parliamentary ORAL probe—disguised as vetting—I say this: I hear some of your interrogators and their associates own properties and enjoy lifestyles of the very same standard that they now scrutinize. They reside in the same privileged locations and have no better working records than you do. If they dare, let them be probed too. Their fortunes, after all, were acquired during ORAL’s era of interest.
But now that you have been ORAL[LY] cleared by the parliamentary ORAL, let the searchlight of the people’s ORAL turn to them.
The stories of King Bat and King Pyrrhus are real.
Part II will be dedicated to Prof. Kwaku Azar. Professor, I have been reading. And I have a question for you:
Is a prima facie determination a judgment on the merits of a case?
The answer, I suspect, is obvious. But let me press further—if a criminal case is summarily dismissed at the preliminary stage, can the accused later plead autrefois acquit?
And in the realm of civil proceedings, can a court’s ruling operate as res judicata if there was no trial on the merits?
If you do not answer me, I shall subject you to ORAL. Before then meet me in part II.
