Water Everywhere in the City of Accra

Monstrous incompetence sluiced through the City of Accra on Tuesday night. It turned God’s bounty into a Greek gift; destroying lives and houses, cars and mattresses. It is among us the depravity resides. The wealthy wise-ass who chiselled and cast his brick-and-mortar in a water way because there was space; because he could; because nobody stopped him; because be bought off whoever tried to stop him. His workmen bought food in plastic bags and created compost blocks in gutters. Between the government goon and the conniving contractor who constructed a ten-millimetre gutter, if any at all, don’t you deserve to go Gaddafi!

Feckless Form Filling

Excited employee is completing a 6-page loan form. I ask him why he won’t scribble with a pencil first. He can always etch in ink when he gets all the details right. His long look tells me I’m a bloody busybody. He used a pencil already, he says. But I can’t see the lead strokes any. He gloats, “I deleted them all before restarting with a pen”. Three hours later, he’s still ‘donkeying’ down the document.

Petrol Station Detectives

The car coughs and splatters into the petrol station. The commission-earning attendant fights off two others, and the car quivers and creeps to a halt. As the nozzle nears, the driver slithers out to eye the dispenser meter with suspicion. If the system is rogue-rigged to pilfer a litre or two, how could you tell? What do you know? Hasten back into your car, and don't come back; not when I'm behind you in the evening queue.

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900

My 900th blog post. Every 100 have been a pleasure, though the 800s have been difficult. I promise to rededicate myself to this blog and all you readers who give me feedback: encouragement, criticism, flattery. Keep them all coming (especially the flattery ;) oh yeah). Many thanks for being so great.

P.s. Happy birthday to my sister, Thelma. Enjoy Kenya and bring me  a lion's tooth. Love loads.

Spitting Cobras on the Streets of Accra

 I quickly formed a mind that he was a sleaze of a scaly-skin reptile from the way he slithered sinister-ly into my driving path. I thought little more of all that surrounding slime until he squirted out the first shocking stream. He did it once, he did it twice, four times; my revulsion lost count. The creepy-crawly cabbie was a senseless, spitting cobra.

Thirty-Second Chance

Skidding around the 'red-lighted' cars, on his termite-toothed wood board; a legless lad in a reflective jacket, sliced from window to window, head at door-handle level, cadging for coins at 10 pm. He had thirty seconds, maybe.


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Belgian Chocolate

Moist chocolate cake slices, made with real Belgian milk chocolate and topped with chocolate chunks.

Uh huh.