3 Dashing Dresses

I’ve seen 3 dashing dresses today; all in simple, straight lines the way I like them. At 6, I saw a good (glistening!) grey dress and its girl sailing across the Spintex Road near the Accra Mall. In court at 10, was a weightless white dress on a petite, fair goddess, stopping the judge's show. At noon, I was bewitched by a blue-black dress on an ebony angel on the office stairs.

In Trouble with Men

I picked this up on the radio. What do you think?

'An 'unbeautiful woman' with a killer body is in trouble with men'.

The Girl Who Left Me

Next time I go to an office and the first girl I spot has easy smiles and shining eyes and cultured speech and truthful hips, I won’t waffle and wait until the meeting is over before I trade numbers. I will cadge for her digits at once. Why risk her leaving for home while I’m bivouacked for 3 longs hours with her boss?

Remembering Names

To all the people who always remember names and put them to the right faces, I wonder how you do it. Surely it is not subconscious. And if you make a conscious effort, do you use association (and shocking mental images) or is it just relentless repetition?

Zinedine Zidane

The waltz magnifique, the fox trot, the faux step. A shimmy, a dart délicat et délicieux, a liquid lob, a volte-face. Wonderful weave, back heel de toute beauté. G-o-a-l! Incroyable! It could have been a divine dance. It's ZINEDINE ZIDANE!

Thing on Wheels

I was driving past the neat office blocks at Ridge behind a spritely Toyota Corona (remember that car?) I was curious about who had kid-gloved theirs to keep it roadworthy for so long, when a balled-up mangy tissue whorled out of the open window. I overtook to see for myself who had hallmarked such a hideous habit. When I saw his/its face, I understood how the filthy tissue and the vile habit of ejecting rubbish from a moving car all fit in with his/its smutty face.

Kebab-Craving in Accra

Adabraka was too far from Ridge, and the Kebab Boys at Nyaniba Estates Junction were packing up, putting out the naked flame. It was 10 p.m. Fresh out of boneless, they were too polite to my pinstripe to even entice with the almost-bones left on a few old skewers. So I pulled off Ring Road, arced the U away from the La end, hooked the Labone Junction exit and swung into the second right towards Celsbridge. In five minutes I was cruising through Cantonments, the Airport, Tetteh Quarshie and the Spintex. Three kebab sticks and three fully loaded kebabs, lay on the seat next to me.