Dark Dens in the City of Accra

To my nought surprise, there are holes and hideouts for the hoi polloi in the city of Accra where the herds and humans bleat and feed, mate and litter, and even die together among scrap-made shacks without electricity.

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Working Out in the City of Accra

On every rough-hewn (rasta) park, I see a rag-tag team a-play. My slightly richer, 'trendier' peeps say the gyms are hot agog too. It seems Accra has finally caught on that a little pay or pain ahead is cheaper than later bills from 18th-Century med centres.

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The Streets of the Two Accras

In clustered Central Accra, they pave the streets in praise-pursuit; china-smooth like heaven's highway. But the suburban straits are genocide (or is there a more sombre word?); raw, rugged, lumpy-bumpy thoroughfares cruelly calculated to cripple your chassis.

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Drivers & Angels in the City of Accra

You again! Or are you her sultry sister? Or her sister's sister? You're all divinely descended from one prepossessing Mitochondrial Eve. Was it the blue-black jeans sculpting your sensual, s-shaped sinews or the tantalising-in-tone torso? Or perhaps the devastating dimple (I saw just one)? Your eyes 'diamanted' towards me, my right foot zombied onto the brake, my left hand zigzagged towards the kerb. Danger-dealing demoiselle, please don't beam bright beside the road. You're too stunning to behold.

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Corrective Rape

Corrective rapes
Collective rapes
Sour grapes
Stone-age apes

Rough Riders In The City Of Accra

No bulging bags after six pm. Really wretched riders will ooze out of the lessening light with scimitars and lurch for your wrist or jugular. Delayed submission leads to loathsome laceration. Best give up the sac and ask if they don't require the padded wallet and matching shoes as well.

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When The Power Gets Cut (As Usual)

It's amazing how everything (but my bodily functions) ceased when the electricity company cut the power during a poco-powerful storm. It's been off for 7 hours now.

I was lucky that my handheld held all day (after the laptop had died in a fight scene of a psycho-thriller) even though I Whatsapped, BBM'd, Gtalked and tweeted all day.

In a blast from the past, I scoured every column and feature in the Graphic and Mirror by torchlight. Nostalgia - I don't read the papers anymore. I get all my news from the digital media.

So, the electricity company goons may outdo even their own assinine record. I'll turn the vacuum into a positive experience.

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