Counting Life

17 World Cups
1 Haley's Comet
1 marriage
The curtain comes down

Enye Wo Car N’eeko No?

Office Colleague, Tiger 3, is tottering home knackered. He stops to buy oranges on the way. As he carefully selects the best, the seller asks, “Enye wo car n’eeko no?” (Is that not your car moving off?). He drops the fine oranges and charges after the errant car. He does not make it. The car careers into a drain. He had left it in neutral gear on a sloping bend. The ‘area champions’ who go to his aid, end up picking his wallet. Then they turn around and ‘hold him hostage’ until his wife brings some money to pay for their car-salvage service. There was scant money left to buy oranges after that.

Dog Bites, Man Bites, Bosoms and Laps

Have you heard of a dog being treated for a man bite? Well, a colleague at work swears that in the movie Escape from Sobibor, a man interned at the concentration camp lay his teeth into the hinds of a prison dog set on him to prevent his escape. Ha ha ha ha ha! Otwiara Kose.

Another colleague, a buxom woman, pointed to her (lovely) lap as she referred to her bosom. She’d thought all her life that lap and bosom meant the same thing. Ebei, can’t a man do some serious work in peace. My sides are splitting from the laughter. It’s Silly Tuesday.

Whaaaat! No More Hot Fork on the Streets?

It’s said the Ministry of Information has “banned” the sale of movies rated X in Ghana. I do not know when such movies were ever legal. So I do not know if the Ministry is now saying it has created a new law. Further, doesn’t the ‘Ministry’ know that it does not have any power to make laws? I am all for enforcing the laws against obscenity, but I wonder if we will win against the market forces.

Readying for Your Coming

It’s only two weeks more -
The longest of the eight.
I’m sprucing up the house;
Polishing the rust in my heart;
Remembering the places we love to go to;
Doing callisthenics at dawn;
Sleeping earlier like you want me to.
I’ll be ready when you come.

Nothing Good Comes Easy

As seen unlawfully posted on an Electricity-Company transmission box outside the building I work in. Breaking the laws of the land and of grammar.

Village Flower

I was enchanted by a vestal village girl with an apocalypse body. In the magical moonlight spraying the countryside, she was skipping, frisking and entertaining among twenty craving ‘cannibals’. She performed with unawareness and white innocence – the same colour as her quivering quarter skirt. I did not want to go back to Accra.