Kwaku Doe - Inflation Hits

Yep, Kwaku will now not accept my measly Gp50.

I haven't really interacted with Kwaku Doe in a while. A couple of days ago, I was the passenger in a friend's car and when we got to his spot, I saw it as an opportunity to have a conversation with him. I looked inside the car and found some coins. I put together Gp50, dropped the rest of the coins in the car (he actually saw me do that) and handed my bait to Kwaku. Guess what? He goes like it's not enough and he can't do anything with Gp50. When I look at him open mouthed, he goes like "awwww madam, you know me and my situation. we have been talking a lot. this 50 pesewas is not enough".

My friend gives me a you-gotta-be-kidding-me look and I silently hand over the rest of the coins to Kwaku Doe. By the time all that was done, the traffic light had turned green and we had to go.

All I got to say is Kwaku needs a job. The begging can't possibly sustain him cos all I got to give him is Gp50 (even that one kwraa, it is a lot to give someone that has done absolutely no work for you).

Everyone has a Secret

Yep, we all sure do have at least one secret. That thing you did that you don't want anyone to find out about. It's funny though cos God does see all and chances are someone helped you do a cover up so that someone does know. Or maybe something you did with someone that you don't want to come out, but the someone you did the something with knows. Ok, are you as confused about all I've written as much as I am? Sorry, not my intention, but if you think about it, everything I just wrote does make sense, at least small :P

So, what's your secret? Wanna share? How about you fess up now before someone reveals it? Or will you take your chances and hope to take it to your grave? Even then, you realise it just might still come out even when you dead. Filla is still filla whether or not the person it is about is still breathing or not.

I was thinking though, how about we all write our secrets in a book and keep that book locked up somewhere (maybe in a safety deposit box in a bank or something). That book of secrets can only be read when the owner of the book (writer of their own secrets) is dead. And how about the reading be done at the funeral out loud to all present (let's see how many donations will be made and how many tears will flow then). Maybe people will be a lil more forgiving since the person with the secrets is dead.

Just my mind in overdrive though. But I know if my secrets should be revealed especially to those that would be hurt the most, I'd rather I wasn't there.



Roverman Productions in partnership with Joy FM and Graphic Showbiz presents "Everyone has a Secret", a play written and directed by Uncle Ebo Whyte.

Why will a man have an accident and hide the true details of the accident?
Why will his wife wish him out of her life and perfectly pretend she loves him?
Why will a man try to disrupt the marriage ceremony of his friend?
Why will a man chicken out of his own wedding the morning of the ceremony?

"The price for cheating is just too high"... (tell me about it)

"Everyone has a Secret" tells an intriguing story about a group of friends who gather to have a nice holiday. Things don't quite go as planned as they all end up facing their darkest secrets. The ones no one dares talk about except...

Venue: National Theatre
Date: 1st and 2nd December, 2012
Time: 1st show 4pm, 2nd show 8pm
Rate: GH¢40.00

Tickets are available at Shell Shops at Airport, Achimota, Sakaman and Tema Community 11, Baatsona Total, Frankies Osu and Accra Mall, Joy FM, JaneAnn Supermarket and Pills and Tabs.

Main Sponsor - MTN

So tell me, what's your secret? (maybe I won't tell anyone)

Adventures in a Foreign Land - Almost Feels Like Home

Overcrowded neighbourhoods, dilapidated buildings, overflowing garbage bins with an indescribable stench, artificially created footpaths where there once might have been a well manicured lawn, cluttered balconies and groups of people sitting outside watching your every move with overly suspicious stares. Did I just get off a bus or did I just walk out of an aeroplane? I know I just got off a bus so why do I feel like I'm home? Last time I checked, home was over 6,000 miles away.

A walk through Central Park in Winnipeg, Manitoba had me wondering if I was back in Ghana or if I was still in Canada. Something had to be terribly wrong. No part of Canada is suppossed to remotely remind me of where I came from, or so I thought. What even baffled me more was, everywhere I turned, I just kept seeing other Africans like myself and a few other minority groups including a group I had come to learn about during my stay in the country, Aboriginals. I would almost have fit right in if I didn't feel like and wasn't being treated like a stray.

All I had wanted was to get to know my new environment as much as I could in the short time I had. Last thing I'd expected was to find a bit of my country in this country, especially since I had only been exposed to the plush neighbourhoods I had expected to see. As a matter of fact, I lived in one such neighbourhood. Of course, I termed these neighbourhoods plush by my standards.

As I got on a bus to ride out and head on back to the plush neighbourhood with a bougie name (Royalwood) I lived in, I couldn't help but hope all the people back home who would do just about anything to get out and seek greener pastures in the West could see what I'd just seen. Sad thing is I was one of those people. Worse yet, even though my neighbourhood in Accra was not as plush as the neighbourhood I lived in in Winnipeg, it was so much better than this place I'd just left.

Moral: (yeah, there always is one) there's no place like home :D

This is so not Gh



I So Totally Miss Kwaku Doe :o(

It's been ages since I last blogged about Kwaku Doe. Why? Cos I don't use the same route to work no more. I hardly ever see him. If I do see him, then it's cos I'm headed home and he's on the other side of the road :o(

I do get to see him on Sundays sometimes but we hardly get to talk. I remember there was this Sunday, I was just at his spot and there was this physically challenged man begging. Kwaku was also making his rounds but the other guy was a step ahead of him. Now, I knew the traffic light was just about to go green so I was a bit impatient when the other guy got to me first. I couldn't wait for him to leave but I dint have enough money on me to give him and Kwaku, and there was a lot of questions I wanted to ask Kwaku. I waved the physically challenged guy away and Kwaku saw it and I guess he concluded I was not in a giving mood. Urgh! I was pissed at the other guy then I felt bad for being pissed at him.

Anyways, something happened last Sunday that I dint quite get. A couple of Sundays ago I asked Kwaku how long he'd been begging and he said he'd been at it for about four years. Then last Sunday I asked what he'd been doing before he started begging and he says that's all he's been doing like forever. I'm starting to think he prolly dint understand my question. I should have spoken a local language or something. He must not have understood the English I spoke or he couldn't express himself well in English. Whichever ways, I'll get another shot maybe next Sunday.

I Remember You

On this day, I remember you.
You would have been 29 today but you dint quite live to see 22. You left this world 5 days to your 22nd birthday. I want to say more but my eyes are just welling up.

I still remember you, not just on this day but all the time. I miss you terribly.

RIP.

Heaven Has No Rage Like Love To Hatred Turned...

How many of us know where the phrase "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" originated from? How many of us know it's a paraphrase? The full phrase is actually "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned". This was a line in a 1697 English Play, The Mourning Bride by William Congreve. Yay! We learnt something new today. Enough with the literary history. But seriously, when one hates someone they used to love, it is so much more intense than hating someone one didn't particularly have any feelings for. That reminds me of another phrase "a thin line between love and hate". Oh yeah, how thin that line is.

That said, did you get to watch "Don't Mess with a Woman" last weekend? If you dint, shame on you. If you don't even know what that is, more shame on you. Naturally, I'm a nice person so I'll share. "Don't Mess with a Woman" is the latest play by Uncle Ebo Whyte and if you missed it last weekend, you can still catch it this weekend. It'll be showing again at the National Theatre on the 8th and 9th of September, 2012. 1st show 4pm, 2nd show 8pm on each day. Tickets go for GH¢40 and are available at Shell Shops at Airport, Achimota, Sakaman and Tema Community 11, Baatsona Total, Frankies at Accra Mall and Osu and Joy FM.

Nothing stops you from watching again if you already did though. Seriously, I could watch the play 100,000 times and not get tired and still laugh as hard as I did the very first time I watched it. Why won't I? With people sending testicles, singing and dancing bridegrooms and Indian jujumen, trust me, you can't help but laugh.

As with every Uncle Ebo Whyte play, there are of course some important lessons to be learnt. Come watch and find out the lengths to which an angry woman will go, to get her revenge on her boyfriend and bestfriend.

It Bothers Me!

I don't know why it does but there's this billboard I see every morning on my way to work and it so gets to me (for some reason).

The billboard advertises a religious conference and it's got the pictures of the speakers (all of them pastors). Two of them have posed with a hand each in a fist and showing a ring. Matter of fact, when I see the billboard, all I see is the rings (I don't even know what the conference is about and when it's gon be held cos I just see rings) and it bothers me. Is it some pastoral ring or something? (I just might be that clueless).

What's up with the rings (and they are huge too)?