Bigger is Better in the City of Accra

Women and men, pumps for your boobs or burritos are on sale in the City of Accra. The wonder is they took so long to come! The no-wonder is they surfaced from China! Fix a different-size cup, and between squeeze and pleasure, boom, you are bigger there! But the FDB says no! Why am I positive the FDB will lose? Ghana is already bingeing on‘Beelzebub’ bitters, brewed for size, stamina and spice.

Food Riots Everywhere

(Picture credit - thesunblog.com/gourmetgal)

The Helium Effect. Crude-oil hikes hoist up essential-foods rates. They’re scuffling with cudgels and pebbles and Molotovs in Tunis and Algiers. In other metropoles too. Fathom my flaming fear when food prices leapt up in Accra. But Accraians won’t flock to the streets – they whisper but don’t raise their fists over the bread-and-sugar spend.

Priests and Pastors in the City of Accra

So many clergymen are facing criminal charges these days. That is an incorrect comment. So many priests are attracting bad media. That is unfair too.

But...

Too many pastors are allegedly committing fraud and other crimes. That is spot on. People always said there was a difference between a priest and a pastor. I think I know now.

But...

It is easier to be a pastor than a priest (education, hierarchy, strict liturgy and all). So, maybe, more pretenders end up as pastors.

(Picture 1 credit - religion.phllipmartin.info)

(Picture 2 credit - news.onlinenigeria.com)

Rogue Doctors in the City of Accra?

A doctor is a lapdog-yessir-how-high-should-I-jump slave. Their patients rule them, dominate, oppress and sometimes make them lose their jobs. You may have murdered their mother – they cannot turn their back on you! So if the nurses rap on the surgery door, and the doctor declines to exit, is he always unjustified? Just asking...

(Picture credit - clarkcapitalfinance.com)

The Love Race in the City of Acccra

 I just saw a man from a shack on a moped win a girl over a man from a chateau and on luxury four-wheels, although her father was an arse. All in a Ghanaian movie. I totally took notice!

(Picture credit - current.com)

Street Fighting in the City of Accra

Me in a street fight. Well, not quite. The urchin did not put up a fight. He swung out his hand and broke my side mirror and indicator light. I had seen him from far. I had even swerved to the middle of the street. It’s a new trick in Accra. New for the past five years or so. Desperados take this risk. Then, then they ask for 50 Ghana Cedis to go to the ‘hospital’. It’s happened to me twice already. Not a third time. I came out of the car and grabbed him. I did not let go until I got help. It was in a gentle neighbourhood – Ridge – so I did not risk a stabbing. At least I hope so. He’s now behind bars. He’s headed for court. 

Resolutions = Rubbish

You don’t know when a discriminating asteroid would wipe out most of the opposite sex, compelling you to a need for prostitutes/gigolos. And so life goes. It is fluid – we don’t know what’s around the corner. It makes little sense – to me – to make New Year Resolutions. They only mark your own  ill-discipline. You can make resolutions as and when you need them. A toilet-moment resolution. A post-orgasm resolution. A born-again resolution. A birthday resolution. A Chelsea-slump resolution. An Obama-inspired resolution. When resolutions are made for particular moments, don’t they stand a better chance of success? Now I must go do a no-more-late-bath resolution.