There are only pitiful prizes for divining rightly that I absolutely adore the lovely women of Accra. They have been poised for such prepossession for quite a long time, and, having arrived, have no continental peers :)
But the beauty pageants in Accra – they used to be christened beauty pageants even when not much was comely on two legs in the city of Accra. A casual scan revealed twice as many beauties in the audience as the vain viragos on the stage reciting poetry not their own, or making speeches written in somebody else’s withered words and a pilfered accent. The prettiest was never the winner (fair enough). The most talented never won (and Ghana never won anything). The most intelligent never won. The most beautiful (only out of the lot on the stage :)) was always left in tears, biting, kicking, accusing, scandalising in tantrums, threatening to go to court or the court of public opinion.
And the pageants changed. They picked on fancy names and skirted the word ‘beauty’ like a vile affliction. Yet, all the time, the women grew more beautiful. The present favourite focus appears to be talent: dancing, speeches, poetry recitals and little else :(
‘Face’ replaced ‘Beauty’ or the vague, deceptive ‘Miss’ (for many were not maidens). I wonder if the change in name has anything to do with carbo-abdomen and allied amorphisms :) (See how I like coming back to this). After all, you may hardly be body beautiful and still flaunt a selfishly stunning face :)
Why haven't the drop-dead gorgeous college girls entered these pageants?