Who else will go on strike tomorrow?
Will the lights be on when I get home today?
How many guinea fowls will GHS47m buy?
Will China lend money to Ghana again?
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Friday, March 22, 2013
Blogcamp 13...is about Tilapia
Nobody can regale you with the savoury story of how to 'tooth' the char-grilled
flesh off the skeletal frame of the Piscean, Tilapia, better than a
Ghanaian/Ghana-resident. That’s why I blog; I know the pulse of Ghana; I sing her
song.
Blogcamp 12 was a platter of soft-cooked Banku with devilish dollops
of sweet pepper, shito and Kpakpo, and a greasy pound of queen tilapia tiara’ed
with tomatoes and golden onions. A palette of pleasant people; soul-stirring storytellers
looking for an audience with eager palates.
So what will 13 be like? Come Saturday, come hungry for fun.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Social Media
Year - twenty thirteen
Samsung - Tech Queen
Hangout - Facebook/Twitter
Reason - Flirt with not one jitter
Others? - Those mental dances
Pay-off - Network it enhances
Samsung - Tech Queen
Hangout - Facebook/Twitter
Reason - Flirt with not one jitter
Others? - Those mental dances
Pay-off - Network it enhances
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
You No Go Sort Me Out?
‘Chale, I dey go house wey my fuel short. Make you sort me out.’
Impetuous, inane, puerile ... thing; moulding pie with putrid hubris
for filling. Demanding dough with a sense of entitlement. I stone-face him, power
up the window and cruise down Spintex Road.
‘Oh, you no go sort me out?’ he barks.
He does not say ‘please’ once. In my rear-view mirror, he’s already trudging
up Spintex Road.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
I Don't Know What to Say
Are you saying somebody will find 100 Cedis and give it to the anti-social person? Are you really trying to stop a bad habit?
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Flower Girl in the City of Accra
At Ridge, where Gamel Nasser Avenue deceives to fly over the Police
HQ, I watched a tight, green, Afric-fabric frock ‘hallmarked’ with delightful
petals...on a milk-choc mannequin on the move. Loose, flair-sleeves, rich-blue,
florid frills like garlands on the neck. Sitting on her body like the
immaculate skin of a flawless fruit. Frivolously creased at the hamper-hips,
where the dress rode up. Why did she have to go and tug it downwards? Our
little love affair was quickly done.
Monday, March 4, 2013
Chewing-Stick
I do it in private, not caring that
it’s become a scorned ex-lover since the 1950s. On Saturdays, after Colgate and
Listerine, I pull out a hard, light, chewable, juice-releasing stick of Tweapea,
and sweep its budding bitterness over every milky spot of enamel. The flavouring
flourishes into a fine, addictive tang. And teeth have never stood with more integrity
after such tender care.
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