Of adulterous women and so on…

They named him

They shamed him

They named her

They stoned her

They screamed justice

I scream brutish

Sleeping towns

They are no longer our homes

Mere edifices

In which we keep our belongings

And then to have forty winks

We rise before the rest of the city

And retire last

Yet we are paid no more

For spending a sixth of the day

Trying to get to there.

Plain English

I gave you all

You wanted none

I gave you none

You want all

Please do tell me in plain English,

What do you want?

I’ve always wondered…

What should you say to someone who offers you drugs (like heroin or coke), “No, thanks.” or “F**k off!”?

Would the former not be asking to be coerced?

Would the latter not be too rude and hurtful?

Should everyone try it at least once so you know it’s really nothing to write home about?

What if you try it and like the feel of it?

PS. I haven’t been offered any. I just wonder because it seems so remote to me…

Wife Swap

So they exchange homes for two weeks

Husbands and offspring

Duties and needs

Perchance they exchange their lives

Dinners and chores

Work and pets

But what if the sparks fly

And the ‘sleeping arrangements’ are muddled?

Tough Love

When my sister was in nursery school, she used to come home with scratches on her arms from where a bully in her class had scratched her. Once she complained to our Mama. Mama got mad.

She asked, “Is X in your class?”

Sis replied, “Yes”

“Is he bigger than you?

“No”

She asked her, “So why didn’t you scratch him back? Next time you go to school and X scratches you again, and you don’t scratch him back with all you’ve got, I will punish you!”

My sister was petrified. Next day rolls around. Lo and behold, X scratches her. She was scared. Scared of X and scared that if she didn’t scratch back Mama would spank her. She hesitated. Which did she fear more, Mama or X? No brainer.

With that she pounced on X scratched his face, his arms, his legs. He wasn’t stronger after all! He ran away crying and never scratched her again. Mama gave her a treat when she came back home!

I recently asked her about it and she said it was because she can’t fight all her children’s battles for them. It was a valuable lesson to teach them to fight back. Maybe one day I will see her point of view. Or maybe not.

Last Lap

I have ran

I have faltered

I have ran again

Now, to the last lap

The race seems tougher

Yet, it must be finished

Not finished first or faster

Just finished

The prize is so near

So with weary legs and feet like lead

I need a rest but trudge on

Damn, I need to finish this race.

Girl’s story

So after I try to avoid looking at the breast feeding going on to my left, I’m but left with my right to look at. Now, this late teens/early twenties lady sitting by me is clearly in pain. But she seems so focused on her phone, tapping away at her keypad ferociously. I try not to steal glances at it, but I’m intrigued. What could be so important that it surpasses toothache? I didn’t have to wonder for long. Because she tapped my arm a few minutes later and said to me,

“Miss, can you please read this and see if it makes any sense?”

So I take the phone and read it, it’s a long jumbled up text and you guessed right, the text was to her boyfriend/love interest. The import of the text was, he wasn’t treating her right, someday someone will do so, she will then leave and he will look for her but not find her. But there were some proverbs and wise sayings laced in. Go figure.

Another shock! Is she really worrying about a boy when she had a toothache? (Mind you, my reaction would be the same if it was a boy worrying about a girl.) What happened to the akan saying about “kakaw, ayεmukaw nna εkaw (tr: toothache, stomachache and debt) being the three most painful things in the world? This girl has proved it so wrong! Or maybe not.

Boob food

My wisdom tooth woes, has taken me back to the doctor with the drills. At least I didn’t have to go to the one with the sullen secretary ;-). So I found a seat in the waiting room and tried to relax. I’m sandwiched between two women, a nursing? mother and a heartbroken? girl. (The girl’s story will come later).

At first, the nursing mother seemed like a woman with a toddler. The little girl on her lap was busily munching on crispy plantain chips. That should tell me she has, at least her premolars present. Now this little girl must have become rather thirsty all of a sudden because she stopped chewing, popped open a couple on Mama’s shirt buttons and shoved an exposed breast into her mouth and sucked away! Boy, my jaw dropped!

Now my shock does not come from breastfeeding in public, not at all. It comes from the age of the child. The child has enough coordination to unbutton a shirt and enough teeth to chew plantain chips. How about some good old water or orange juice? Or am I the only one who finds this almost unsettling?

1000 Apologies

For my absence

For my neglect

And for 'Savvy-starving' you.

... I'm back!

Of unending complaints and so on…

I’ve had enough

You say I’m rough

I’ve had my fill

Of your bitter pill

I give my best

To you, it’s a jest

I give my all

You ask if that’s all

So today I wake up

This hour I wise up

I’m leaving you

‘Cause I can’t please you

Pardon me?

Excuse me?

Did I hear, “Please stay”?

Oh, do tell, I pray

If you see only flaws

If I have only faults

Why should I stick around?

Why should I come around?

Lust

Lust

Wanton, Hungry

Yearning, Longing, Desiring

Lust is powerful

Covetousness

Disney Controversy?

This weekend I chanced upon a certain controversy that had been brewing over the last two years that I was totally unaware of. Disney was making a darker skinned girl their princess in their upcoming animation- The princess and the frog. She’s from New Orleans and is to be called Princess Tiana. It’s a beautiful idea if you ask me, as it will give the self image of little black girls a boost. God knows we’ve waited for this long enough. I was even one of those little girls who had to imagine myself ‘white’ before a knight in shining amour could come to my rescue, whisk me away and live happily ever after.

Okay, back to the point. Originally Princess Tiana was to have been called Princess Maddy, but pressure groups didn’t like the name because it was to plain. Really? What did they want LaShauna, Shaquinta, Levondia? Then we come the princess’ role, she was to have been a chamber maid, fall in love with the frog, kiss him, frog turns into a prince, they marry she becomes a princess and they live happily ever after. Nice? No, according to the pressure group, well, depicting a black girl as a chamber maid is so stereotypical. So with that, they made Princess Tiana a real princess from New Orleans. Do we have royalty in New Orleans? Don’t Americans abhor royalty? I thought Cinderella was a cinder maid. What about giving people the hope that they can become ‘something’ someday?

Aren’t we taking all this to a whole different level? Is there a fine line between affirmative action and ridiculous? Please educate me because I think it’s a little ridiculous.

Tag, I'm it!

This award was passed on by Miss Maxy. I’m to write 7 things about myself and tag a couple(or so) of others to do same. “Hmmm, who will I tag? That’s the first thing going through my mind. I don’t wanna tag someone who doesn’t wanna be tagged, yet… We’ll see how it goes when I’m done.”

1. I’m still not sure when to use ‘whom’ and when to use ‘who’.
2. I like Italian food…probably because of all that cheese. Lasagna, pizza, pasta, garlic bread +vinegar & olive oil…love it.
3. I tend to be rather hot headed and impatient at times. I think I’m getting better at it though.
4. Though I have a bubbly personality and may be a little talkative, I’m very private about my personal life.
5. I enjoyed being 23yrs old immensely!
6. I have a short(ish) attention span. Max 2hrs. I gotta move on.
7. I haven’t touched my hair with any chemical since Jan 2005! (Well, except what is found in shampoos & Conditioners)

Ok, now I tag

Rebelryter

Procrastinator

KFC

I love you

Why wait to write a eulogy

When you can say in person

“I love you”

Why wait to etch on a tombstone

When you can make a call to say

“I love you”

Why wait to say in tears

When you can say in laughter

“I love you”

- - - ~ To Ebow, for not waiting.

Wise buying

A crown is a hat

But you don’t buy that

When you need a hat

-The Dark Wanderer: poems/ by Albert W. Kayper-Mensah

Easier Said

Funny how I can say

All the right things

Motivational quotes

Smart sayings

When the pain is not mine

When the anguish

The disappointment

The heartache

Belongs to someone else

But when the tables turn

I only feel sadness

Depression and agony

And not a single wise quote

Or uplifting word

Will my brain churn out

For my comfort

Black and white are also colours of the rainbow!

The last meeting

Was a teary parting two decades ago

The joys leaving school called

The promises of tomorrow beckoned

Each went to their own

To make bread with the grain given

Today she bumps into her in town

Her life seems like a rainbow

Complete with that pot of gold

A thriving business for her work

A wealthy hunk for her husband

A life in HD

She, not so much, she muses

She hasn’t had much colour

Single mother, runaway dad

Struggling to make ends meet

It seems she’s been given a raw deal

A life in black and white

They are pretend they’re happy to see each other

They secretly eye each other enviously

Each wants what the other has

A son for one, a husband for the other

Oh, but they have a lot more in common

They both cry themselves each night to sleep

Resilience

I was with my mother as she was gardening the other day. As she dug up clumps of earth with her fork she complained, “I wish these tomatoes were as resilient as the weeds are. You don’t have to put any insecticides or manure and they grow outrageously. My tomatoes are getting blight. Yet they all grow in the same soil.”

Later on I thought to myself, we humans are like that. The rogues and rascals thrive, while good people are ruined. A setback, a harsh word or an illness and we succumb. We dig in our heels; we give up and claim we are victims. If the rogues were to be deterred by the harsh words they have heard or even some of the unpleasant consequences they have had, this world would be a utopia. Yet they forge on against all odds.

We should learn from them. But of what use is a weed or scoundrel to anyone? Maybe a hybrid would work. We need to have the usefulness of a tomato and the resilience of a weed.

7 more (maybe sad) facts of life

The men in the beer adverts do not have a potbelly, as they should

French fries and cheese cake are deliciously bad for your heart and waist

There will always be someone better at your game than you

Your hard work may only be rewarded with your boss’ riches

No matter how much you try, good looks essentially comes from genetics

Your (or your wife’s) breasts will sag a couple of degrees every year

85% of men who die from heart attacks during sex are found to have been cheating on their wives.

F.E.A.R.

There is only one universal passion: fear- George Bernard Shaw

I chanced upon this quote and thought of all the things I’m afraid of. So many things come to mind and some of them are just irrational! But apparently everyone has at least one irrational fear. I’ll tell you two of mine;

I’m afraid of the dark. I’m afraid of dark alleys, dark rooms and dark streets, anything dark. I’m afraid of what might be lurking in there. Waiting to “catch me”! I’m afraid of not being able to see what is out there. I can’t even sleep in a dark room. There has to be some light sifting in through the window or at least a nightlight. I’m afraid of being afraid of the dark.

I’m afraid of clowns, masqueraders (kaakaamotobi), fancy dress parties, I’m afraid of it all. Why do you have to dress up all weird? The point is….? Tell me what is funny about clowns? Or masqueraders?... So I’m afraid of it. Because they look scary. (You can tell I’m being a bit defensive here, huh?) Unfortunately, this particular one is a proper phobia, hyperventilation, sweats, shivers and asthmatic attacks!

I know y’all will laugh. But we are all afraid of something. I’ve told you some of the weird things I’m afraid of…What are you afraid of?

5 almost flimsy and petty things that might make me say goodbye to a man

We all know the attributes of a good man; responsible, industrious, street savvy, thrifty, caring etc. But sometimes when women are deciding whether or not to look at a long term relationship with a man or whether or not to kick a man out, certain petty issues are considered along with the important ones named above. My friend Esi Cleland made a podcast recently about top 10 things to look out for in a man and that dealt with the big ‘uns mentioned above! This post deals with the little ’uns. Below are just five of what would be on my (long-ish) list.

1. Books: If a man has no idea, I mean no idea about books that I think every normal human being should have read, well its bye-bye time. For example during a conversation, I ask if he’s read Dilemma of a Ghost, he answers no. Another day, I ask about Pride and Prejudice, no. Okay… To kill a mocking bird, no. Things fall apart, no. (Red flag) Great Expectations, no. Native Son, no. Animal farm, no. Okay I think he should redeem himself right now and tell me what he’s read or what he likes to read, if not, he’s out.
2. Table manners: Nothing puts me off more than a man without table manners. He chews with his mouth open, talks with food in his mouth (Eew, I don’t wanna see your bolus), shoves food down his throat, uses cutlery wrongly, and chews loudly (when he’s not eating carrots… er, can you chew a little louder they cannot quite hear you in Bolivia!). ’Nuff said. Bye-bye.
3. Sense of humor: I like to laugh. So if I’m with a man who can’t laugh at himself and the whole world… well, I’d say goodbye. I don’t think people should take life so seriously. We are here but for a few years. No matter how responsible you are, sometimes laughter is the only way to deal with issues. I generally find men who are humorless incessantly boring.
4. Bathroom habits: All women hate men leaving the toilet seat up and every well brought up man was taught by his Mama to put the seat down. I’d tolerate the occasional forgetfulness but constantly is a no-no. Leaving ‘skid marks’ in the bowl? Once is enough, forget it. Oh, whilst we are in the bathroom, let me add, I don’t see any reason why the toothpaste should be squeezed from the middle of the tube. There is no reason for a grown man to do that. A seven year old can get away with it but not a grown man.(I won’t leave for that alone though)
5. LAFA & Grammar: Of late I see on my feedjit that I have readers from a lot of countries so let me break LAFA down for the non-Ghanaians; it stands for Locally Acquired Foreign Accent. A number of people try to affect the accent of Americans and British, even though they have never lived there, so that they sound ‘cool’ or impressive. For me it is a super duper turn off. No matter how great you are in every other department, it is a put off for me. Period. It reeks of an identity crisis. Saying that, I really appreciate men with a mastery over the English language, as well as their own native tongue. It’s a turn off if a man can’t string a single sentence of English together without taking me back to my class four teacher-Mrs Coker.

PS. I am not an uptight bitch. (Hehehe.)

The Pendant: Part II

(The parting)

Alas, in the heat of their passion one afternoon

As they struggled out of their garments

The chain that held us broke and I bounced off

She couldn’t stop to search for me, could she?

Not until the red hot lava had cooled

But I was under this heavy mahogany wardrobe

Among the fluff of dust and cobwebs

Oh dear, she’s leaving without me

(The wistful end)

I heard him whisper he would get her another

A shiny new piece all dolled up and fancy

But she wears him with pride, oh how could she?

I thought our love was timeless and endless

Life was so good when it was just she and I

Oh, why did she have to bring him into our lives?

It wouldn’t be so bad if I was lost in her room

But, every night I have to lay here and listen to him snore

The Pendant: Part I

(The meeting)

It was love at first sight between us two

I caught her eye as she passed by the shop

She immediately came in and asked to see me

And picked me up with the most delicate fingers

As I lay in her soft smooth palm

I could only imagine how good it would feel

To lie close to her heart and feel its rhythm

To lie between the soft mounds of flesh on her chest

(The affair)

So began our affair of five years

She called me her lucky charm, her love

She daintily fingered me when she was deep in thought

I was never far away from her heart

We loved each other endlessly

But, oh, fate played its nasty cards

I was to be betrayed, I was to be replaced

She and I became she, him and I

The waiting room

As I entered the lonely lobby

A classical collection wafted weakly in the air

If it was to pacify patients for the impending ordeal, it failed woefully

Because to my edgy ears it sounded cacophonous

The sullen secretary peered pointedly at me over her horn rimmed glasses

I nervously neared her and demanded the dentist

She lazily listened and rudely replied

“Sit your seat”

Without a blithering blink, and all the while, shuffling sheets

So I teetered toward the seats

And sunk into a soft sofa along the wall

Sweaty palms picked up a peeling pamphlet

Damp hands, despite the chilly atmosphere

Either from of the whirring window unit

Or from the frigid female who sat across from me

Aunt Anxiety whispered to me to tap my feet to calm the nerves

Sullen Secretary shot me and my funny feet a lethal look that almost made me slither silently to the ground

What I do

I do what I do

You do what you do

What I do does not affect what you do

What you do does not affect what I do

I like what I do

You like what you do

I judge you not for what you do

Why do you judge me for what I do?

Education

Study

Read

Write

Calculate

Sit

Silence

They barked at me

So I did them dutifully

Maybe if they had added

Explore

Create

Muse

Invent

Discover

Play

I’d have done ‘em with glee

And I’d have learnt more

‘Cause I’d have thought for myself

The burial

He lay stone cold

No more to behold

He left little money

No milk and honey

Yet here he lay

In a coffin and array

The tab for which is unpaid

Dosh, a year he won’t ha’e made

Cyber love

I fell in love with your wit

You made me laugh

I fell in love with your voice

Deep and throaty

I fell in love with your mind

A beautiful maze

We had a connection

Or so I thought

Then I met you

Not what I want

You

I woke up this morning yearning for you

I started my day feeling blue

I thought it’d pass, I thought I’d be fine

Like a fool, I toed the line

Through the day it grew worse

It almost made me smile-averse

The day ended, how, I have no clue

I’m going to bed tonight yearning for you

Who said “white lies” don’t hurt?

He: “Will you come to the party at XYZ club on Saturday?”

Me(shifty eyes): “Er I’m not sure I have to do this thing with my sister at uhm…”

He: “Oh, but can’t you come afterwards?”

Me(scratching neck): “Uhm, it might be late by the time we finish but er, I’ll see what I can do.”

He: “I’d really like you to come.”

Me(stifled sigh + wide smile): “Ok I’ll be there.”

He: “That’s brilliant, will see you then.”

Conversation discarded by Me.

Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. Saturday-Morning, afternoon, late afternoon, evening. Lounging. Phone call. Who? He! He? He!

He: “Hey, what’s up? Where are you? Its 10:30pm.”

Me(rush of thoughts): “You won’t believe this, I came but couldn’t find the place. I asked all manner of people but they couldn’t help and because it was late I just came back home…”

Silence. 2 sec. 5 sec. 8…

Me(heart in mouth): Hello? He?

He: Yes?

Me(‘Geez, I’m effed’ thoughts): Did you hear what I just said?

He: “Yeah, I’m just trying to figure out how you took 45mins to dress up, 45 mins to drive over here 30 mins to get lost, another 45 mins to drive back home all before 10:30 for a party that started at 8pm.”

Me(self image dwindled to size of peanut): “Uh, er...I’m not sure”

A new year

Today is my birthday and as I was reading all my birthday wishes, I just started thinking of all the things I would want to have happened or I would aspire to do this next year. I’m gonna list a few here; I hope

I will draw closer to God

I will be generally nicer to people

I will be patient

I will exercise more- at least 4 times a week

I will eat healthier (less chocolate and ice cream)

I will try to control the road rage (Thanks trotro drivers)

I will return phone calls

I will stop procrastinating (Abena take a cue. ;-))

I will study more often

I will give to the poor and/or do some volunteer work

I will keep in touch with friends

I will learn a new language

I will sharpen my knitting, crocheting and sewing skills

I will have at least “50 savvy lovers”!

I hope I would have finished my final year of school by now. Yay!

A year from today, I will let y’all know how I did. Thanks once again to all of those who sent me those lovely messages.

Forget me not

How many times

Have you forgotten

A name

Your keys

Your to-do list

A birthday

And then kicked yourself

Exasperated

Because you forgot

Well, think of it

If you never forgot

Always remembered

Always vivid

Everything you did

All the pain

All the anger

All the vicious words

Others have said

Raw emotions

Flowing tears?

Forgetfulness, a blessing

On this earth.

Learning on the job

Why is there no manual?

No set of instructions

To this life we lead

This love we share

So many mistakes, saved

So much heartache spared

TVs and Microwaves have ‘em

Even tables and lights fixtures

So why not something as large as life

Or as beautiful as love?

Driving

I sat behind the wheel

Remembering all I’d been taught

First time is such a big deal

It shouldn’t come to naught

Rule one is anticipate, Dear,

Or you will fair poorly

You forgot to tell me, Sir,

How do I anticipate folly?

Friends

There are 4 categories of friends people have. (According to me)

Girl friends/Boy friends- Depending on whether you are a guy or girl, you have these. Well sometimes, they are of the opposite sex. They are the friends you have had since you were in nappies. They know everything about you, and yet they still love you. You know their Grandparents and they know yours. They are the first person anyone will call if they couldn’t find you. The closest thing you have to a best friend.

Perpetual Crush- This is the guy/girl that you have never dated but you have a crush on. You probably never dated that person because, you both had partners or your best friend fancied him/her before you did or there is something simply not right about him/her. Even though you fancy this guy/girl you somehow know that you would never date them because if you did, it would never work.

The man/woman- This is the love of your life. You may marry him/her or you may not. But you know that you will always love that person no matter what the person does. If you are fortunate enough to be dating or married to that man/woman, then life’s heaven. (Awww)

The Haters- You tolerate them. You know they hate your guts and/or you hate theirs but for some unspoken reason, you pretend to like each other. (The smiling makes my face hurt) The reason for the hatred is diverse. It could be because they were smarter than you in elementary school, or that you are richer than them, or worse they have the body you have always wanted. Sometimes you don’t like them simply because they talk too much or try to copy everything you do.

Did I miss any?

My bag

Here’s a list of 10 things you will always in my bag or purse.

1. Hand sanitiser

2. Make up bag (mascara, lip gloss, eye liner, pressed powder, little body splash, etc.)

3. Sanitary towel/tampon

4. Tissue (I don’t use hankies. At all)

5. Hand cream

6. Wallet (ATM/Debit Cards, ID Cards, cash, pictures, a special note from 2007;-))

7. Analgesic

8. Diary

9. Nail file

10. Mobile Phone

Ok, I’m at 10 but there are still some things I haven’t put down…

11. Hairpins

12. Safety pins

13. Gum

14. Small notebook

15. Organiser

16. Pen

17. Camera

18. Keys

19. Sunglasses

20. Sweets and/or their wrappers.

No it’s not a huge bag or a mini suitcase! It’s a regular sized ladies bag. I know some of it is pretty weird but who’s not anyway? Those who didn’t know now know.

The Good Wife’s Guide

Here’s an article I found while surfing the net. Some websites are disproving it saying it’s just a spoof by some people aimed at patting ourselves on the back and showing how far we have come. ‘The way we were’ v ‘The way we are’. Other people swear by it and say that it is a real magazine article. A woman in her 70’s says that even if it was not a real magazine article, that was the sentiment in those days so, hell, it might as well be true. Then, I chanced upon a group on Facebook called “Revitalization of traditional gender roles” -because it works. They think this article should be followed (with a few modifications). Read on and I will ask my questions after:

May 13, 1955 issue of Housekeeping Monthly

THE GOOD WIFE’S GUIDE:

1. Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready, on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal (especially his favorite dish) is part of the warm welcome needed.

2. Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up and be fresh looking. He has just been with a lot of work weary people.

3. Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may need a list and one of your duties is to provide it.

4. Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through that main area of the house just before your husband arrives.

5. Gather up schoolbooks, toys, paper, etc and then run a dust cloth over the tables.

6. Over the cooler months of the year you should prepare and light a fire for him to unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too. After all, catering for his comfort will provide immense personal satisfaction.

7. Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces (if they are small), comb their hair and, if necessary, change their clothes. Minimise all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer, and vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet.

8. Be happy to see him.

9. Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity to please him.

10. Listen to him. You have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first--remember his topics of conversation are more important than yours.

11. Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner, or other places of entertainment without you. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his real need to be at home and relax.

12. Your goal: Try to make your home a place of peace, order, and tranquility where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.

13. Don't greet him with complaints and problems.

14. Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.

15. Arrange the pillows and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soothing, and pleasant voice.

16. Don’t ask him questions about his actions or question his judgment or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him.

17. A good wife knows her place.

Assuming this article was real;

Did women in the 50’s have careers or were they full time homemakers?

Were women in the 50’s happier than women of today?

What was the role of the men in the 50’s?

Will the rate of divorce drastically reduce if women of today followed this guide?

Do men of today really wish this “creed” was followed?

Were men in the 50’s happier than men of today?

Join the dots

What do you do?

When you can’t join the dots

Between the name and the face?

Do you pretend?

Or do you say?

What if you offend?

What will others say?

7 (maybe sad) facts of life

Chocolate and ice cream will make you fat.
Pizza is not a balanced diet (the vegetables on there don’t count).
Vodka and whiskey can make you sing off-tune.
You can never look like Halle Berry or Tyson Beckford.
Fancying someone doesn’t always mean they will fancy you back.
Not fancying someone doesn’t always mean they will stop fancying you.
Sex cannot be categorized as exercise.

Visceral

How do you say
A visceral thought
To a logical man?
Will he appreciate?
Or will he think you
Slightly insane?
The latter is more likely
But the hunch shan’t leave
Till you say.

Maa will always find out...

I was but a mere child, mischievous and impish when Maa gave me a strict warning never to eat alewa*. I had tried tiny bits of it from the other kids in the neighbourhood and I loved it. It was sickly sweet and it kind of popped when you sucked on it real hard and it left your tongue pink! Ah, delightful. I had some pennies from uncles and aunties over last Christmas and I desperately craved the evil sweet. So my brother and I devised a plan- buy and eat the alewa while Maa is at work. By the time she gets home, the telltale pink tongue would be gone and we’d be home dry! Yay! High five! So we skipped to the lady at the junction, purchased our lives savings worth of alewa and gobbled it all down. An uneventful evening passed, then came bath time the next morning. I groggily stepped into the white ceramic bath. Ooh cold! I huddled in the corner while Maa did the ritual ‘sssss’ sound to coax the wee out of my sleepy self. I did wee, only it was a bright PINK! Two sharp smacks to my back jolted me out of my slumber into shrieking reality. I since then gave alewa only a cursory glance anytime I saw it.


*[aláywa] a locally made sweet from sugar and colour. Its long, pink and kind of has tiny bubbles in it like an Aero, but are smaller.

Rain

Monsoon is near
Corn on the cob is here
Rabbits and hedgehogs burrow
Where do homeless children go

Kitty curls on the rug
In my hand is a mug
Ponchos and sweaters us warm to keep
Where do homeless children sleep

Looking for love

They call her promiscuous
A slut
But they take from her
What she’s willing to give
In exchange
For their “kind” words
Their feigned interest
Their false affection
So quick to condemn her
For falling for their deceit
For seeking happiness
For looking for love

Collateral Contracts

They meet
Starry eyed
Fall in love
Or lust
So they decide
To sign a contract
To share forever
Everything they’ve got
Everything?
Yes, everything…
Oh, well um, except…
Except what?
Except the money.

“I ate from her pot!”

I cooked you a meal
You cooked me one too
Exotic style
Oriental taste
Hot and spicy
Sweet and sour
We ate to our fill
And lay satiated
Yet the very next day
You scurried to your cronies
To run your mouth
“I ate from her pot!”
Well, I ate from yours too
Or did I not?

Telegram

Dear Savvy lovers,
French leave. Preoccupation. Examinations. Apology.
Love,
Savvy.

Hindered

Mpanyimfo se, sε εtwe ahoma na sε w’ammba a, biribi dzi mu.
Tr: Elders say, if you draw a cord and it doesn’t come easily to you, something must be hindering it.
This is one proverb that may make many a man/woman retort, “But of course!”
But I was thinking about this today.
Sometimes you put your whole self into a friendship or a relationship.
The other party however seems like an obstinate mule, happy with just staying put.
You sit back and ask yourself, “What am I doing wrong?”
Should something as easy as a friendship or a love relationship be difficult to draw?
It’s a cord. Made from fibre, not lead.
It should be easy to draw.
Why doesn’t your ‘friend’ return your calls or e mails?
Why doesn’t your ‘man/woman’ want to commit a little more?
There must be something hindering them.

To Ewuradjoa

Grief- Great sadness because of an event
Sorrow- A deep sadness caused by loss
Distress- Mental suffering caused by grief
Heartache- A powerful feeling of sorrow
Anguish- Extreme anxiety or emotional torment
Pain- Severe emotional or mental distress
Mourning- The feeling or showing of deep sadness at somebody’s death
These are but a few of the ways I feel when I think of you.
Rest In Peace, Theresa Mullen-Essien.

Sound Investment

Invest in people,
Not in your wealth,
For who will visit,
When you’re in poor health?

Focus

From tens of miles away,
Eagle fixes his eye on Seabird,
On a cliff,
Basking with his mates in the sun after a swim,
Eagle swoops downward in a smooth and calculated glide,
Seabird and his mates free fall,
In a downward spiral,
Attempting to confuse Eagle,
Eagle keeps his eye fixed on Seabird,
Seabird’s mates zigzag,
Eagle has eyes for no one else,
Finally Eagle is close enough to grasp Seabird,
In his powerful claws,
Eagle wins the prize!
He never lost focus.

Neighbours

In the wee hours of Saturday morning, clouds gathered and threatened to weep in no small measure. It was accompanied by a gust of wind. Ah, beautiful! The night before I espied some ripe juicy mangoes on the tree in the yard, but they were too high to pick. So with all that wind... Ah, just beautiful! I rolled out of bed a couple of hours later put on my slippers and robe, picked a large bowl from the kitchen and strolled to the tree. Shock! Pure shock! Just shock! There were no mangoes under the tree. Or on it. Or beside it. Or any preposition to it! My neighbor had scaled the wall and…GRRRRR. So I have decided to write on the kind of neighbours we all may have. There are four kinds;
Nice Neighbours: These are the ones that wave whenever they see you. You exchange pleasantries with them and you all move on. You exchange cards and presents with them at Christmas. You can borrow their water hose and they can borrow your shears and you know it will come back in good condition. Lovely.
Noisy Neighbours: They are just a pain. The pound fufu at 8pm, wash pots and pans after the evening meal right out there and very loudly. They have an equally noisy dog who barks up a tree. They wake up at 4am to pray (which is good), very loudly (which is not good).You can even keep a tab on their conversations because you hear everything… Oh, and they scale walls too. (Hehehe)
Nosy Neighbours: These pretend to be nice but they are just nosy. They are the kind that do not know how to simply talk about the weather and move on. They have to ask you when you are getting married or some other silly question. They are the ones that reported you to your parents as being a naughty boy/girl when you were a teenager because they saw you in the company of A or B, just once!
Nonchalant Neighbours: These are the kind that pretend no one exists. They do not say hello. They don’t make eye contact. They don’t care what happens in the neighbourhood. They are wrapped up in their own world. They are the kind that make you wish they will crash into a tree (only a little) so you see who they will call! Lol.

Becoming Madam Zola

Most neighbourhoods have one
An eccentric old femme
Long flowing skirts and blouses
Heavily made up and bejeweled
A true Jezebel
Living in solitude with her cats or dog
She is rumored to kidnap little children for her dinner
Or to have jar of reptiles
And practice evil magic
Because she speaks to no one
Well, except for her pets
So you taunt and tease and play pranks on her
Then you grow up
Or you simply move away and forget
And Life deals its deft blows to your heart
So you vow to love no more
To save your heart the pain
You detach
You will soon wake up one morning and realize
You are becoming a “Madam Zola” yourself.

Designer Goods

With tobacco stained teeth and dried saliva encrusting the corners of his mouth, his hollow bloodshot eyes darts suspiciously from car to car. His gaunt and stooped frame carries his raggedy clothing like a burden. His coarse hair is unkempt and reddish from hours in the sun and his skin is black and grimy from same. His calloused hands have thick veins running along them and dirt caked underneath their claws. He hovers around the traffic light waiting till it screams “Halt” and then makes his move in two swift strides, shoves his hand into the window, and tries to peddle me his lonely “Giorgio Armani” perfume and “Rolex” watch for “something small”!

Titles

There’s a new trend in Ghana (Maybe I’m only just noticing it). It’s the pretentiousness and pomposity of it all that baffles me. It’s with titles and how we want to attach some kind of importance to ourselves. If we manage to do well for ourselves and get some kind of “white colour” profession we want it stated before our name (Oh, please bold and highlight my title. I want everyone to spot it a mile away! Lol). A doctor is Dr., they save lives, let’s just leave it. Military men have ranks. They need their titles. But we go on with Lawyer so-and-so, Architect so-and-so, and Engineer so-and-so. Is it really necessary? What about the traders, masons, seamstresses? Are we to call them Trader Ama Mansa or Yam Seller Mary Bonsu, how about Mason Kwabena Manu? Or do they not deserve a title? Now people dedicate songs on the radio for their wives referring to them as Mrs Gladys so-and so! Does it matter whether she is Ms, Miss or Mrs?
Ok now I want to be called, Law Student Iris Aggrey-Orleans!
Let's refuse the pomposity!;-)

Suggestion boxes here and there

They are rude
They impose
Or they simply ignore
Yet they put up a crudely constructed container
Of cheap white wood
A scrap of rag with bold letters labeling
You can tell from the rusty padlocks they are seldom opened
I often fight the "naughty" urge
To do what I would have done to the offending box
Had I been confronted with the same situation
Some 15 years ago

Rush hour!

It used to be six thirty
And then it was earlier six
Now it’s a ridiculous quarter to
Soon I’ll leave at four to get to school for eight!

Traffic musings

Sweltering noon!
I’m off to lunch
I amuse myself in the thick Accra traffic by watching passers by
The bright yellow blouse and 6inch heels catch my eye
The “no-breather” jeans too
Did I mention the mile-long hair?
I give a shocked laugh
She replies with an angry glare
The blouse even more
The side walk is undulating
She teeters and totters off!

Tall sad tales

She explains the missing toe nail with the kitchen cabinet
Then the bruised arm with the bedroom door
Again, the black eye with the study window
I wonder what she’ll explain the bite mark on her chin with…
…the hungry dog?

Of Pretentious Madams and so on…

Mrs A and Mrs B share a bowl of fruit.
Mrs A asks jokingly, “Did you buy these apples and grapes from the boys in traffic?”
Mrs B replies with disgust, “Oh no! I won’t do that to my children. I got these from Koala. Even then they are washed thoroughly. ”
Mrs B, “Oh I know, I am so particular about washing everything I eat in water and vinegar.”
Miss Kay (yours truly), “…even your bread?”
A stony silence.

Self Image

Is it what I see in the mirror?
Or what I see in his eyes.
What if I make an error?
Perhaps it’s what I see in my psyche.

Of brothers and so on…

I was seven, he was nine.
We lived in Osu, and could hear the siren at noon.
I asked, “What is that noise.”
He took a deep breath and replied, “Consult the herbalist.”
He walked away.
Who? What? How? When? Where?
I stood.
I was in awe.
“How did he get to know so much?” I wondered.

REASONS WHY I LOVE MY MOTHER

Because when I was little…
…she made me eat my vegetables.
…she made me go to bed at 8pm.
…she didn’t allow me to watch Akan drama.
…she spanked me when I insulted my brother.
…she made me bath twice a day when I didn’t want to.
…she made me clean my room every day.
…she showed me who was boss.
Because now…
…I have to listen to her talking when I really want to sleep.
…I have to explain some parts of the movie to her.
…I have to drive her at night or when she’s tired.
…I have to tell her when her clothes don’t exactly match.
…I have to find her lost glasses, phone or some other item for her too often.
…I have to tell her not to worry so much about me.
…I have learnt that despite my (many) flaws, she loves me endlessly…

If God gave me the chance to choose another, I will still choose Ekua Asor.
Happy Mother’s Day, Maa.

MONEY MEDICINE

They say they were cozened by the priest.
But I say they were dense.
Before they parted with their life’s savings and some,
Did they stop to think?
Or did the priest’s lavish surroundings fool them?
They should be flogged, for they waste oxygen
…oh, I speak of the ‘sakawa’ boys!

The Pursuit of Happiness

America categorically states it.
Ghana firmly guarantees it.
But can I really pursue what makes me happy?
When I’m not sure where it will lead

I never played hooky and I passed all my exams
I found a job that pays for a little more than most.
One day when my teeth are few,
Will I be able to say I was happy doing what I did?

Maybe I should try something new,
Like playing the cello,
Or follow my heart lands afar
Maybe happiness will then pursue me.