Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Playgirl Pedicurist

The other day, Miss Jackson beheld my pachyderm’s soles, and hurried into hysteria. She asked if I had played wild sport barefoot as a child. I confirmed. Then, I confided in her about this young, pretty pedicurist at my mother’s hairdresser’s. I started a wanton weekly visit after seeing and ogling her the first time. As she masterfully massages here, and sensuously caresses that spot, she flashes a wily wink every time she unearths a neuro-ticklish neighbourhood. After each winsome session, she’d cajole me for my number, again, and ask when I had some free evening time! If a pedicure is such a carnal contact sport, I wonder why any love interest would push me to play.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Fairy Tales

I'm thinking of the amazing Hans Christian Andersen and

the old wonderful feeling that everything was possible in life, and that good magic happened one moment in time, and we all lived happily ever after.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Weekend at Akosombo Bay

This weekend away
At Akosombo Bay
So hard will I play
And malinger on Monday

Friday, March 27, 2009

...And That's Good Advice!

Champi Dog Veterinarian Advice by Champi NL

Never take advice from a person who's never worn your glasses (i.e. been in your situation.)

I Demand ...

So that barbers, tailors, mechanics and clerks would arrive at the agreed time and do some darn work!

So my partner cannot cheat on me simply because they can.

36 hours a day
So that I can spend the extra 8 sleeping (it's the only sleep I will get).

Creativity Opportunities
So that I can finally live the life I want, doing what really makes me happy!

Clear Signs
So that I know you put me above the competition, and do not offer the competition what you offer me.

An Extra Day
So that we can have a 3-day weekend.

A Pay Rise
So that I can justify waking up from bed, to myself!

No-Dogs-Allowed Signs Everywhere
In all the places I go. I just thought you should all know that I loathe canines.

Clearer (not necessarily stricter) Immigration Rules
So that we know who's legally here!

How is a person supposed to live on only one job in Ghana?

Many More Things Than I have Stated Here
Because we should never stop at trying to get better!

Thursday, March 26, 2009

If I Could Tame a Wild Animal

It would have to be my uncivilised hair. Too many girls have asked me why my hair is not "Dada B" (= soft and beautiful). These days, it's easy for me to tell them that my unsightly grown hair is caused by a life so far of bad food. The wild animal I'd like to tame is my hair.

But, then again, a panther is not unthinkable too!

Ponko Huri Ta in the City of Accra

I am not a big fan of picturesque proverbs. I like daily “direktspeak”. This scatological saying in Akan, however, fascinates me to fits; a pithy line which translates lengthily into English as “The Ass should not even think of jumping over an obstacle, when the sheer effort makes the Horse fart”. Last night, sliding along the N2 to Aburi, which goes through tranquil, lambent Legon, cars were ambling over the rugged reach from Okponglo almost up to the dark-tile monument at the entrance to the university. I was pacing myself in Marion, behind this pristine, leonine Landcruiser. Suddenly I saw high headlamps rise up behind me as an SUV appeared like a tidal wave from nowhere. It scrimmaged over the rocky, torn-away terra, past me, past the Toyota Landcruiser, narrowly avoided kissing a compact bank of red earth on the shoulder, hobbled through potholes, and was out of sight, all in a chauvinist trice. It was a Toyota Rav 4. I lol’ed, as, false to customary character, the Akan proverb leapt to mind: Ponko koraa huri ta, na wo ofui!

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Finagling Grandpa

Boom-goes-the-dynamite by Aaron & Alli

As an insensitive pre-teen brat, I concealed my Casio digital watch under my grandpa's bed, and set the alarm to go off in ten minutes. I knew he would go up for his afternoon sleep in five minutes. As he lay down, I "chanced" into his room, and narrated to him in calm undertones about how we'd learned about explosive chemicals in Chemistry class that day. Then, I let it slip, by accident, that we - the boys - had gone ahead to devise crude time bombs. Then, in passing, I mentioned that I'd stowed my bomb away under his bed for safekeeping. Eighty-three years of human experience doubted me until I started flying from the room three seconds before the alarm went off. Bless his soul, (and may he continue to rest in heavenly peace) my grandpa shot past me, and bounded down the stairs! It was the quickest I ever saw him move! He was not angry or anything at all. He called me naughty, and patted me on the back. Gee, I loved that prank!

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Obama, Geithner & Other Random Questions

Will the UN forcibly release Suu Kyi?
Remove the Death Penalty and let them pay a fee?
Will America leave Obama & Geithner alone?
Why punish one who's confessed on their own?

Monday, March 23, 2009

Give Gladly or Give Not

About five years ago, a female colleague and I suffered a serious bout of a "gift" early in the morning from a very stingy client. We'd disliked him for a long time for the way he strutted about like he lived in a house of gold, although his hands would never slip into his pockets, wallet or slide across a cheque. He plunked it down on my colleague's table - she calls herself TBMN (The Beautiful Miss Nortey). So I asked from across the room, "What is it, then?" The penny-pinching client did not know what his gift was. :-) I took another look at it, and decided it was a cheap, glass paper weight cut like a pyramid, which the cat had dragged in from a one-dollar shop. Between saying our 'thanks' and stifling our smirks, he skirted the open door, and scooted out of the office.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

When I realized I was a Grown-Up, Or Have I?

This is a really tough one. It is not when I dragged on my first cigarette or swigged on my first bottle of beer. It does not have anything to do with sex. It could be when I started telling my pop about his parenting mistakes. It may also be when I managed to hold down a committed relationship. It could be when I shipped my life out of home and found a place of my own.

Friday, March 20, 2009

I Can't Believe My Aunt Did That!

It was way past bedtime. I was only 6 or 7, and quite precocious too. I was talking to my mother and aunt (my mother's friend really). My mother got up to take the tea cups(they'd been having a cuppa) to the kitchen, and my aunt farted so loudly. My mother turned and blamed me. The corner of my aunt's mouth twitched, but she pretended not to know what was going on. I haven't forgiven her at all!

A handkerchief travels with me

A handkerchief
Because Africa's hot, silly!

A wallet
Because I couldn't put my money in my handkerchief.

My ATM card
Would you rather I kept it in the bank vault?

My favourite pub's "Loyal Member" Card
Oh, so you don't like drinks at half price?

Obama's Special Olympics & Other Random Questions

Will Obama bowl in the Special Olympics?
Will Spring 08 change global politics?
Is Google freeloading on Eric Carle?
Shall we call the US lawmaker "Darl"?

Thursday, March 19, 2009

The Layoff Game

This afternoon, the internet dealt me a bolt from the blue – the “Layoff Game”! It is a game craftily created and christened to sinister-commemorate the ailing global economy, and meant to make megabucks out of it for internet game developers. Similar to Bejeweled, you have a grid of workers and you match three of the same type to eliminate redundancies in order to save your corporation some money, blah blah blah. People are making “sick” money in the economic crisis!

Shoe Dazzle & Other Random Questions

Is Shoedazzle really that fabulous?
Why are all Popes condom-rebellious?
Why are they mad about strikes in France?
Are we all ending the Obama romance?

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

The Need

Craving your airy essence
In the stillness of last night
I lavished six squirts
Of your fancy, fresh fragrance
Onto the soft, virgin pillow
On your vacant side of the bed
I drifted to the verge
Of where you’ve lain luscious before
And savoured six senses
Of your virtual body and soul

[P.S. Last night, an old feeling I'd not felt in ages, overwhelmed me, and would not let me sleep. A poem in me, inspired by strong emotion, wanted out. This is what I got. I really liked writing it, and I hope the person I wrote it for would relish it just as much].

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Random Questions

Should the AIG bonuses be paid?
Isn't Ravalomanana Ratsiraka replayed?
Can Pope Benedict heal Cameroon?
Will Zadari his wife's name ruin?

A Song for You

it’s your smile,
your smile,
your open, flirty, strawberry smile,
threatening to sweep me off my feet.

it’s your ways,
your ways,
your easygoing, waltzing ways,
almost bringing down my walls.

it’s your eyes,
your eyes,
your pretty, playful, island eyes,
lighting a hot flame in my heart.

it’s you,
just you,
all that i see in you,
that makes me dream and hope.


i’ve read somewhere,
in great shakespeare,
about the firstlings
of the mind
being the firstlings
of the heart. i find,
generally, in that rule,
the heat and impulse of a fool.
but if you nurse a rivalry,
then, i guess the scheme is wise,
to kick the balls of chivalry,
and take the good playwright’s advice.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Standing Again

It’s not been easy
It’s been hell
Raw emotions and the elements
You take me through
The fiery furnaces at the corners
The lava, gases and the deep-burning geyser
The rocks that support life
Cutting flesh wounds into me
Fills them with chippings and rare rock dust
Bits of me dry up
On the jagged edges
I’m plunged deep into
Black waveless water
Fish and sailors are long extinct
The water has turned into something
That will melt
I’m flung out and hurtled to the sky
To burn in the scorching sun
To be pecked by hungry birds
My skin is stretched over my bones
Tight like a banjo string
A spiraling black hole
Swallows me whole
It has no bottom or tangible walls
In shock my nerves feel like
Snakes inside me
If only they’d bite, my pain would stop
But I go on and on
The elements happened to me
And all emotions too
In just five seconds
The ground moved once and
I, will never stand again.

Pain and Breeze

Life is pain and little breeze
All deserve more than they get
Yet living’s beyond regret
Problem doors will all have keys
Happiness won’t come with ease

Being at peace with yourself
A conscience free from dark design
Is the elusive underline
The vain-vaunted fame and pelf
Can’t coax happiness off a shelf.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Secret Santa, Give Me a Pair of Socks!

Secret Santa:
Shoestring budget of 10 bucks (you said!)
You got your friend a pair of blue socks with sick grey stripes.
He moaned “I don’t get interesting presents anymore!”
You called his family and ‘curioused’ what he would like.
“Something artistic and unusual”, they hinted.
You found the task of looking way too difficult.
And having no sense of art in you...
So you got him a bum-boring gift.
He still wears them for an excuse to be rude.

Lingering Eyes

Babe, I'm so proud
That in every crowd
From face to little finger
All eyes, on you, linger

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Pigeon English - Words with Wings

I wrote a blog post on Pidgin English the other day, and my office mates got to reading it. The Shona Mambo (mambo=prince) remarked that he thought the spelling was p-i-g-e-o-n, and he was bug-eyed for a wonder. The Malay Putri (putri=princess) sauntered in and exclaimed, “I thought it was spelt p-i-g-e-o-n! Why not p-i-g-e-o-n?” The Viscount of the Volta answered, “Because it cannot really fly!”

Friday, March 6, 2009

Me and You

We go away today
To a place where we can play
It will not matter who
Or where or what we do
As long as it's me and you

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Mof Touch

Cally and I were getting an emergency haircut at “B Fine” Saloon, near the Red Lobster Restaurant, in kiosk-cramped Madina. The Barber (I forget his name) was a cool kind of guy who was trying to be “one of us”. When Cally was done and came out with a shiny, clear, coconut, Barber asked Cally if he would like the “MOF TOUCH”. In Ghanaian Pidgin English, Mof = Mouth. His English is patently self-taught. I laughed so hard that the end-to-end mirror began to rattle. I did not have the heart to tell him he really meant to say MOUSTACHE.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

The Ghana Police Academy Instruction Manual


In your secondary schools, you had formal learning. You also learned through the informal system. Your informal-system knowledge is what distinguished you as a product of your school, and made Achimota, Wesley Girls, Adisadel, Aburi Girls, Mfantsipim, Holy Child, etc. what they are.

This instruction manual recognises that (since you have likely not made it to some higher education) your chances of sitting in a comfortable office, making phone calls to your bank to make big dollar-cheque transfers are slim. We, your officers, are condescending to give you a head start on how to survive in the world out there, if your training does not kill you.

It should come as no surprise that we will deal with FINANCE in chapter one, while the unsuspecting civilian population whose taxes pay for our training and, later, our salaries, think that our primary concern is with SECURITY, LAW and ORDER. If you feel guilty here, close this book and walk away from the Academy. If it helps, remember all those civilians who are calling their bank managers right now!

Harassing motorists is the easiest way to earn about ten times more than your salary. The steps are simple:

i. Insist that they roll down the window;
ii. Make sure they roll it all the way down to give you enough space to poke your hand in there;
iii. Say “good evening”, “welcome” and “how was work”;
iv. Stretch out your hand and shake hands (research proves that they will feel that they owe you something, once you are nice and you shake hands with them);
v. Quickly take the money they give you and wave them on;
vi. Repeat the procedure with the next car.

Now, about security, ...

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Shoe in the Rectum

Amazing scenes and memorial sound bites are seen and heard every now and then in the office. Take last week Friday, for example – a female colleague was feisty in making herself a lightsome nuisance. While it was all tricksy-and-rollicking, I was prospecting for a withering remark to make her wilt. One by one, office mates dropped in the room, and, when we got the perfect-size audience, my one-liner came.

I menaced to impale her on the tip of my shoe by way of her rectum. She countered my hollow hectoring by covering her backside with her hand. Then the whole room burst out laughing. I do not know where else this could have happened. I love those guys there, and won’t exchange them for any others.