Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
So that barbers, tailors, mechanics and clerks would arrive at the agreed time and do some darn work!
So my partner cannot cheat on me simply because they can.
36 hours a day
So that I can spend the extra 8 sleeping (it's the only sleep I will get).
So that I can finally live the life I want, doing what really makes me happy!
So that I know you put me above the competition, and do not offer the competition what you offer me.
An Extra Day
So that we can have a 3-day weekend.
A Pay Rise
So that I can justify waking up from bed, to myself!
No-Dogs-Allowed Signs Everywhere
In all the places I go. I just thought you should all know that I loathe canines.
Clearer (not necessarily stricter) Immigration Rules
So that we know who's legally here!
How is a person supposed to live on only one job in Ghana?
Many More Things Than I have Stated Here
Because we should never stop at trying to get better!
Thursday, March 26, 2009
It would have to be my uncivilised hair. Too many girls have asked me why my hair is not "Dada B" (= soft and beautiful). These days, it's easy for me to tell them that my unsightly grown hair is caused by a life so far of bad food. The wild animal I'd like to tame is my hair.
But, then again, a panther is not unthinkable too!
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
As an insensitive pre-teen brat, I concealed my Casio digital watch under my grandpa's bed, and set the alarm to go off in ten minutes. I knew he would go up for his afternoon sleep in five minutes. As he lay down, I "chanced" into his room, and narrated to him in calm undertones about how we'd learned about explosive chemicals in Chemistry class that day. Then, I let it slip, by accident, that we - the boys - had gone ahead to devise crude time bombs. Then, in passing, I mentioned that I'd stowed my bomb away under his bed for safekeeping. Eighty-three years of human experience doubted me until I started flying from the room three seconds before the alarm went off. Bless his soul, (and may he continue to rest in heavenly peace) my grandpa shot past me, and bounded down the stairs! It was the quickest I ever saw him move! He was not angry or anything at all. He called me naughty, and patted me on the back. Gee, I loved that prank!
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
About five years ago, a female colleague and I suffered a serious bout of a "gift" early in the morning from a very stingy client. We'd disliked him for a long time for the way he strutted about like he lived in a house of gold, although his hands would never slip into his pockets, wallet or slide across a cheque. He plunked it down on my colleague's table - she calls herself TBMN (The Beautiful Miss Nortey). So I asked from across the room, "What is it, then?" The penny-pinching client did not know what his gift was. :-) I took another look at it, and decided it was a cheap, glass paper weight cut like a pyramid, which the cat had dragged in from a one-dollar shop. Between saying our 'thanks' and stifling our smirks, he skirted the open door, and scooted out of the office.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
It was way past bedtime. I was only 6 or 7, and quite precocious too. I was talking to my mother and aunt (my mother's friend really). My mother got up to take the tea cups(they'd been having a cuppa) to the kitchen, and my aunt farted so loudly. My mother turned and blamed me. The corner of my aunt's mouth twitched, but she pretended not to know what was going on. I haven't forgiven her at all!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
In the stillness of last night
I lavished six squirts
Of your fancy, fresh fragrance
Onto the soft, virgin pillow
On your vacant side of the bed
I drifted to the verge
Of where you’ve lain luscious before
And savoured six senses
Of your virtual body and soul
[P.S. Last night, an old feeling I'd not felt in ages, overwhelmed me, and would not let me sleep. A poem in me, inspired by strong emotion, wanted out. This is what I got. I really liked writing it, and I hope the person I wrote it for would relish it just as much].
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
your open, flirty, strawberry smile,
threatening to sweep me off my feet.
it’s your ways,
your easygoing, waltzing ways,
almost bringing down my walls.
it’s your eyes,
your pretty, playful, island eyes,
lighting a hot flame in my heart.
all that i see in you,
that makes me dream and hope.
in great shakespeare,
about the firstlings
of the mind
being the firstlings
of the heart. i find,
generally, in that rule,
the heat and impulse of a fool.
but if you nurse a rivalry,
then, i guess the scheme is wise,
to kick the balls of chivalry,
and take the good playwright’s advice.
Monday, March 16, 2009
It’s been hell
Raw emotions and the elements
You take me through
The fiery furnaces at the corners
The lava, gases and the deep-burning geyser
The rocks that support life
Cutting flesh wounds into me
Fills them with chippings and rare rock dust
Bits of me dry up
On the jagged edges
I’m plunged deep into
Black waveless water
Fish and sailors are long extinct
The water has turned into something
That will melt
I’m flung out and hurtled to the sky
To burn in the scorching sun
To be pecked by hungry birds
My skin is stretched over my bones
Tight like a banjo string
A spiraling black hole
Swallows me whole
It has no bottom or tangible walls
In shock my nerves feel like
Snakes inside me
If only they’d bite, my pain would stop
But I go on and on
The elements happened to me
And all emotions too
In just five seconds
The ground moved once and
I, will never stand again.
All deserve more than they get
Yet living’s beyond regret
Problem doors will all have keys
Happiness won’t come with ease
Being at peace with yourself
A conscience free from dark design
Is the elusive underline
The vain-vaunted fame and pelf
Can’t coax happiness off a shelf.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Shoestring budget of 10 bucks (you said!)
You got your friend a pair of blue socks with sick grey stripes.
He moaned “I don’t get interesting presents anymore!”
You called his family and ‘curioused’ what he would like.
“Something artistic and unusual”, they hinted.
You found the task of looking way too difficult.
And having no sense of art in you...
So you got him a bum-boring gift.
He still wears them for an excuse to be rude.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Friday, March 6, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
In your secondary schools, you had formal learning. You also learned through the informal system. Your informal-system knowledge is what distinguished you as a product of your school, and made Achimota, Wesley Girls, Adisadel, Aburi Girls, Mfantsipim, Holy Child, etc. what they are.
This instruction manual recognises that (since you have likely not made it to some higher education) your chances of sitting in a comfortable office, making phone calls to your bank to make big dollar-cheque transfers are slim. We, your officers, are condescending to give you a head start on how to survive in the world out there, if your training does not kill you.
It should come as no surprise that we will deal with FINANCE in chapter one, while the unsuspecting civilian population whose taxes pay for our training and, later, our salaries, think that our primary concern is with SECURITY, LAW and ORDER. If you feel guilty here, close this book and walk away from the Academy. If it helps, remember all those civilians who are calling their bank managers right now!
Harassing motorists is the easiest way to earn about ten times more than your salary. The steps are simple:
i. Insist that they roll down the window;
ii. Make sure they roll it all the way down to give you enough space to poke your hand in there;
iii. Say “good evening”, “welcome” and “how was work”;
iv. Stretch out your hand and shake hands (research proves that they will feel that they owe you something, once you are nice and you shake hands with them);
v. Quickly take the money they give you and wave them on;
vi. Repeat the procedure with the next car.
Now, about security, ...
Sunday, March 1, 2009
I menaced to impale her on the tip of my shoe by way of her rectum. She countered my hollow hectoring by covering her backside with her hand. Then the whole room burst out laughing. I do not know where else this could have happened. I love those guys there, and won’t exchange them for any others.