He grew up on the streets, fatherless and almost motherless. A bastard they label him. Learning the language of profanity, walking by swaying back and forth, left and right on his two feet so he could be termed 'Cool'. So he would not be bullied. So he too would fit in."A man is he who hustles till he dies, he who couples a hive of ladies like reading a newspaper. Easy to dispose off and get over with. A man is he who holds a gun behind his girdle and pulls the trigger without holding back. A man is he who...." He's anointed with an endless list of who a man should be. He wakes up without a "Hallelujah" on his tongue, ready for the next "apaa". Oodles of calls troop in like ant soldiers, the ladies burden him. They need to change their hairdos and purchase the latest iPhone, the iPhone X is the real deal now-Tonaton brags.

Ma'am has been admitted to the hospital and she needs funds urgently. "Always family first KK, always family first" he remembers mama's anthem of an advice, in her most typical african accent. He slips into his trouser pockets, it's empty. Rummages through the beer bottles on the coffee table next to the hotel bed and reaches for the first drawer, the second, his on the third now. But for the many condoms, cigarette packs and a lighter, they were empty as well. Then it hit him, he gave all the GH¢10,000 he made from last night's robbery to the Lapaz prostitute last night after their four rounds of sex. "Papa Aziz's marijuana is lit!" the memory charms a smile of fulfillment. It's 8 am in the morning, the sun is early today. As always, whether early or late, he is still going to be lonely till dusk anyway. He cares no more now. The gorgeous smile of the fair maiden with Nubian curves in the artwork on the mauve painted wall never tickled his attention. He is late for the coffin session.

So we keep at it, employing agencies to fight against corruption and violence but the more we try, the more they intensify. The math never adds up. We don't need a large police force or faster cars and bigger guns. All we need are responsible fathers, for it takes a father to instill discipline, a sense of responsibility and self-worth in a child. A responsible father provides food, shelter, and security, these are the basic requirements for life. A responsible father never sells his son out to streetism or daughter to prostitution and smoking of cigarettes or dealing in narcotics. If we only understood the role of fathers in our communities, then and only then will our streets be safe and our gutters be tidy.