Books Never Finished

Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte; that’s one book I never finished no matter how many times I tried.

I found it flatly boring, even in its landscapes and portraits of physical and mental cruelty. I now know that the unquiet passion of Heathcliff and Catherine Earnshaw sees no dream ending, but I’ll never know firsthand.

Which book did you never finish?

8 Childhood Games I Played

The list is long, including the discredited "Mummy-and-Daddy" which I deny ever playing. Well, maybe I once pretended to be the baby for obvious reasons. Lol. Here's my list. Can you add to it?

Police-and-Thieves (not Robbers)
I liked this game especially for the part where your friend (a policeman) would shoot you (the thief) and you would defiantly refuse to die. It was so painful to the policeman.

Hide-and-Seek
I like this game because of the call to the seekers to come looking for you: Pampanaaaaa!

Chaskele
I loved this game for the sheer opportunity to be cruel. Crudely based on baseball, players would be divided into throwers and hitters. Throwers had to throw an empty tin into a disused car tyre, while hitters tried to bat it as far away as possible. They could literally "send" you to the next street or the next neighbourhood.

Piilolo
We would hide something in an obscure place and scour the grounds looking for it. We would shout "piilolo" when we found it. But there was a lot of bonding opportunity for boys and girls in between.

Kyem Pe
"Divide it equally". A game played over the whole term. Players would shout "kyem pe" upon chancing on another player holding/eating/carrying food. And you had to divide it equally. A more radical version was "Gbo ni ma wo" (literally "Die and let me take it"). In this case, the owner of the food had to leave it all to the other person.

Sete(waa)
This game turned every day into All/April Fools Day.

I Drop It
Players would squat in a circle and one of them would run round them, while they sang. The runner would secretly drop an item in their hand behind one squatter, who had to detect it and continue the run before the original runner back or risk a painful slap on the back. The song was "I drop it, I drop it" sang repeatedly. As kids, we would say "Law Peter" repeatedly. I love to think back to it.

Rock, Paper, Scissors
Well, this is universal enough, but we played it with the "exotic effect" after Aunt Junko Izumiyama, of obvious nationality, taught us the words Gu (rock), Chock (scissors) and Par (paper) ostensibly in Japanese.

Pray Your Own Way Home

I thought I would be too afraid to say this outside my mind, but whenever I drive past the “Action Chapel” on the Spintex Road, whether at 10 a.m. or 10 p.m., I suffer those women who spend endless time praying there like they have no jobs or families to look after. I roundly resolve NEVER to stop and give the free ride they’re always asking for.

P.S. My 500th blog post. Just thought you may be happy to share this with me. Thank you, dear reader.

Are You Here?

A ‘Ghanaianism’ for “do you live/work here?” So, a young man in originally black or brown (can’t tell which) jeans walked up to me at Zenith Bank to ask. Maybe it was my ‘bankeresque’ snazzy suit. I aimed at him with my purest poker face, and then sneered, “If you can see me standing here, then I must be here!”

Where Do You People-Watch?

I do my people-watching at Zenith Bank. It’s where the career women ‘strobe’ in, in their clean-line, sexy-swaying corporate skirt suits and lovely black shoes.

I do my people watching at Frankies at Osu. From the unbridled upstairs window, I survey-sweep the street below for colours of clothes, samples of couples, slices of cleavage, and cold cuts of derrieres. Or I can browse my google gaze indoors if I chose my seating right, to face and surf the incoming swing doors.

I do my people-watching at Erata Hotel’s cool pool at East Legon. Here, minimal clothes do not bring the colour rising to the flirty face. The water lies naked in ripples, reflecting one hundred exciting excuses.

Nigerian Women – A Different Breed?

Today, I tried to catch a quick swim before Ghana’s failed football final, but changed my mind at the poolside, for the water showed slightly green. Before I turned around, I ‘glamoured’ this group of 5 or 6 Nigerian girls gaily splashing about. They cat-pawed observers like me with their clothes-off body-confidence, easygoing splendour of fun, and the lingering look they lavish you with when something about you interests them. All this, and they were not even lovelier than the local competition... didn’t need to be.

10-Second History of Ghanaian Corruption

Just observing a trend, under military governments, soldiers have become rich. Under democracy, the wealth has gone to civilians. Corruption is always a coincidence...