Saved (Twice)

Sometime in 2018, I was heading to work when I heard this knocking sound. It was coming from my car but I couldn't tell which part of the car it was coming from. All I knew was the intensity of the sound reduced when I drove fast (matter of fact, the sound disappeared when I drove like a maniac) and increased when I drove very slowly.

I drove from Amasaman to Cantonments and got to work incident free. The only problem was the sound (or so I thought).

After work, I had to pick my mum up from my brother's place at Korle-Bu before heading home.

The sound was still there but at a point, even when I would drive like a maniac, the sound was still unbearable (I honestly thought the solution to my problem was to drive like I'd been cast in Fast and Furious).

And then I decided to park and do the most sensible thing since this thing (sound) started. I decided to look for a mechanic to check the car or at least check the car myself.

I'd got to the Black Star Square area so I looked for a bus stop, parked my car, and that was when my tyre fell off. Apparently, the front tyre at the driver's side was being held by one bolt. When I parked, the last bolt came off and the tyre fell off. Two guys were passing by my car when this happened. They stopped, stared open mouthed at the tyre, looked at me and said, "God loves you."

Fast forward to 2021. I'm heading to church when I hear a knocking sound from my car. When I drive fast, the sound is barely audible. When I drive slow, the sound is unbearable. I am running late but from my 2018 experience, I park at a bus stop at Pokuase and I check all my tyres. All the bolts were in place so I figured it was another problem but since I was getting late and the car was working just fine, I decided I would have it looked at after church. I get onto the newly commissioned Pokuase Interchange and my driving would have had Vin Diesel wishing he could drive like me.

Somewhere on the Ablekuma road (church is in Dansoman and I was using the Ablekuma-Awoshie road) a taxi driver started honking behind me. I looked in my rear view mirror and wondered what was wrong. He kept honking and his honking seemed to be targeted at me. I kept driving (like a lunatic) until I got to a red light on the Awoshie road. Just as I was about to stop (with the knocking sound at an unbearable volume), the light turned green. I was just about to start accelerating when the taxi driver got close to me and it seemed he wanted to talk. I rolled down the passenger side window to listen and I heard him say something about my tyre. At this point, everyone behind us started honking. I had to move but now I was wondering, "could it be the 2018 thing repeating itself?" Thankfully, I got to another red light (the taxi was still following me). This time I heard everything he said. He told me to slow down because it looked like one of my back tyres was about to fall off. He said I should get to a safe place, park and have it checked. I thanked him and switched to the outer lane (oh yes! thus far I'd been in the speed lane).

But I was really running late and though I understood what was happening, the last time I checked, all the bolts were intact so I figured I had some more time before anything would happen (if anything would). I decided I'd get to church and then after church I would have the tyre checked. So I increased my speed (not to Fast and Furious levels but just a little bit) and then I heard someone honking. It was another taxi driver. This driver got next to me and was so livid. 

"Are you crazy? Reduce your speed now. Your tyre is about to fall off", he screamed when he got close to me.

"Thank you but another driver already told me about my tyre", I said.

"And you're still driving like that? You must be out of your mind", he retorted while shaking his head.

Now I was very worried. Maybe my plan to have this thing checked after church wasn't a good idea. But it was Sunday morning and everyone I saw by the roadside was dressed on their way to church. Who could I get to help me? I reduced my speed to crawling levels and just before I got to Dansoman, I saw a vulcaniser. I parked and asked him to check the bolts on my back tyre. All the bolts were loose.

Saved by grace is all I can say!

God loves me too much!

The next time I hear a knocking sound while driving, I will stop and tighten the bolts on all four tyres myself!

Adventurous Dentaa

 Yep, my first book definitely had to have my name on it 😁

From class trips, to exchange programmes, to concerts, to fully sponsored tours, this piece of nonfiction spans about 7 years in my life where I had the opportunity to visit 3 different countries: Burkina Faso, Canada and South Africa.

I believe there is a lesson to be learnt from every experience one goes through and that is what I share in this book: my experiences on these trips and the lessons I learnt from each.

Two things I believe in that come out in this book are, first, no matter how small or insignificant an experience seems, there is something to be learnt from it (you just have to look for it and learn).

Second, no matter how difficult, hard or annoying a situation is, there's a funny side to it (again, you just have to look for it and have a good laugh).

I learnt a lot from these trips; some, I didn't realise until years later. These lessons I believe can be applied to all facets of life, and I hope that in addition to having a good laugh, readers after turning the last page of this book will walk away having learnt a thing or two (hopefully more).

Adventures in a Foreign Land - Yeeeees, Strawberries, Strawberries!

ROAD TRIP!!!

It’s 2009 and my class takes a trip to a film festival in a neighbouring country by road. From Accra, through Kumasi, Kintampo, sleeping over in Tamale, and continuing the journey the next day through Paga (and yes, we did have fun with the crocodiles at Paga), it was one uncomfortable journey, uncomfortable, yet fun!

The bus was small, every seat was occupied (including the middle seats), journey was  so loooooong, at a point it was more comfortable sitting on the step near the door (we took turns sitting on that step), and we never seemed to be getting to our destination. Did I add the road was terrible? The road was terrible (I hear road’s much better now), and oh, we had guests from New York University (NYU) making the trip with us. Terrible road, long uncomfortable journey, but it was the most fun I’ve ever had on any trip. I doubt we’d have enjoyed it as much had we gone by air. There’s something about taking a road trip with your class that takes the crampiness out of any crampy ride, the terror out of any terrible road and the dis out of any discomfort.

I spent most of the time (more like the entire journey) taking pictures of people sleeping (yeah, I did share a couple on Facebook). No, I did not sleep until we stopped over in Tamale for fear that someone would do to me what I’d been doing to others.

We get to our destination, the film festival was awesome, but something else intrigued me. No, not the friendly crocodiles at Paga, but...

Strawberries!

This country is beyond the northern part of Ghana, where if care is not taken, the skin gets so parched, cracked and roasted (literally) by the sun and yet strawberries are sold on head pans in traffic much like how oranges are sold on the streets of Accra.

No, I couldn’t believe it (and neither could my classmates). We all were of the opinion that strawberries are grown in temperate/colder climates, and the fact that in Ghana we get strawberries only in some shops (mostly at the malls) and they are so expensive and these were being sold on the street and were so cheap only meant they had to be grown in that country (which made no sense).

Yes, my classmates (not me) bought truckloads (definitely an exaggeration) of the strawberries, but there’s only so much a person can eat. By the time we got back to Accra, most were rotten or near rotten.

Moral: Not everything will make sense in life.

Enjoy nice things the moment they are available. Don’t try prolonging the enjoyment. Quite a number of people (again, not me) ended up with rotten strawberries by the time we got back to Accra.

Kwaku Doe - The Comeback

It's been a little over 7 years since I started writing about Kwaku Doe. From first talking about him in my Plight of a Hungry Man series to finally naming him and continuing the series as Kwaku Doe, I'd say I've spent a little over 2 years writing about him. The last time I wrote anything on Kwaku Doe was in 2013.

The main reason I stopped is I changed the route I use to work, so I wasn't encountering him anymore. The other reason is I sort of lost interest in him.

Well, last Friday, I was driving when some guy with locks came to my car at this traffic light asking for money. I shook my head and was about to look away when I thought there was something familiar about the guy. He had locks and a goatee (almost all grey), but there was no mistaking this person.
KWAKU DOE!
And he was begging at a traffic light on the other side of town, far from where I used to see him.

So, if I started writing about him 7 years ago, my brother and I encountered him 4 years before I started writing about him, that means he has been begging for 11 years. Of course it would be well over 11 years (I'm sure the day my brother and I encountered him 11 years ago wasn't day 1 on the job for him).

There are people in Ghana who live solely on alms? Like forever? They never work? Able bodied people?

He was true to the Kwaku Doe I got to know 7 years ago though. His locks were neat, his goatee was well trimmed and shaped and as usual his clothes were tidy.

Making a Difference!

There's a certain quirkiness about me that could be cute or annoying depending on how you look at it, but bottom-line, it is downright frustrating (especially for me).
It is very frustrating when I won't leave the house unless I've laid my bed (regardless how late I am). It is very frustrating when I'm running late, but the hair brush is out of place and it just has to be in its place before I can leave. It is extremely frustrating when I walk by a mat (it could be anywhere; in my house, in someone's house, in my office, in someone's office, in a restaurant, at any random place) that's out of place and I just have to straighten it before I walk by. The few times I tell myself I'm being ridiculous (especially when the mat is in a place that's totally none of my business) and I walk on by, just when I'm about to go, "whoopee! I did it! I didn't do me", I turn around, walk back to the mat, straighten it, and slink away with an, 'oh-boy!-I-did-it-again' look on my face. Oh yes! I do get curious stares every now and then, but it's me! I explain it away to myself (and anyone who'll listen) as very (extremely very) mild OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). I don't know about the disorder part, but I do know about the obsessive bit. And all that is not even half of it! I wash my hands minimum 30 times a day, I clean anything and every space I come in contact with before touching, breathing (seriously), and the list goes on and on. I won't get started on my use of hand sanitizers and disinfectant wipes. Suffice to say my room is so clean you could eat off the floor? But who does that (eat off the floor)? Sometimes, I do rebel and I'm the complete opposite of me! (not often enough though)

Sometime about 2 weeks ago, I was driving around James Town when my car started to overheat. I got off the main road and parked on this football-like field, got out of the car and got some sachets of water from a nearby shop. I opened the hood and waited for the engine to cool. I then opened the radiator and emptied the water into it. With each sachet I used, I folded and put the empty sachet next to the windshield of my car. The sachets were done but the radiator wasn't full. Realising I needed more water, I removed the empty sachets, and was about to place them inside my car so that I drop them into the bin at home (I didn't see one around), when I heard, "sister, sister". I looked up and saw 2 women sitting at the other end of the field. They were both motioning with their hands, pointing to the ground. I was confused and didn't get what they were saying. I walked over, and one said I should drop the empty sachets on the ground, that the kids would come for them. I do know some people collect used  plastic (especially empty water sachets) for the purposes of recycling (I believe they are paid for the plastic they turn in; the more plastic, the greater the payment), and I was willing to help, but I did not see how I could litter in the name of helping (or in the name of anything). I walked back to my car, picked up all the empty sachets, locked the car and handed them to one of the women. She thanked me and I moved to the shop to get more water. This time, the lady selling the water placed all the sachets I bought into a plastic bag.

I emptied the water into my radiator. When it started to overflow, I poured the rest into the coolant tank. I put the empty sachets into the plastic bag, and delivered the bag and its contents to the ladies. I noticed the lady still held on to the initial stash I'd given her. She took the bag and added the first batch of sachets to it, thanked me while I said goodbye and left. I got into my car and drove off noticing that the lady still had the plastic bag in her hand. I won't be surprised though if she dropped everything as soon as I was out of sight, but at least, she was a good citizen for about 10 minutes because of me (or maybe she didn't drop it all when I was out of sight; I like to believe in the goodness of people; maybe, in those 10 minutes, she got to understand the folly of littering).
Well, all I know is, that's how to make a difference (one empty sachet at a time); by putting up exemplar behaviours others can (have no choice but to) copy and make the world a better place!

Yeah, I almost die every harmattan; the dust!

Messing with God's Plan

There is a way which seemeth right onto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death. Proverbs 14:12 KJV

I honestly don't know why there are times when a bright idea comes along, it's bright, but it can't be a good idea because carrying it out involves changing, touching, messing up something already in existence, something we had nothing to do with its creation, but it's a bright idea, so we go ahead with it.

I came into contact with (by my estimation), the most hideous woman ever yesterday. While she spoke to me, I looked everywhere but at her. The thing was, I'd got myself into a bit of a jam and she was offering help (which I so terribly needed), but because looking at her was so painful, I looked everywhere but at her, and if she was offended, well, next time she has a bright idea, she should think it through before carrying it out.

Rewind some 20, 15, 30 or maybe 40 years ago (her bright idea was so bad it makes figuring out when she had it that difficult), this woman, then a beautiful, young lady with a rich melanic skin; the kind that would make a curious child rub off on it and when the colour stayed put, they'd rub harder thinking whatever it was, was stuck too hard to the skin, and when it still wouldn't come off, the child would take a step back and look, really look, then and only then would they appreciate the beauty of what stood before them. Anyways, so this young woman had a light bulb moment. It was too much of a bother to have people go through the motions of wanting to rub off whatever they thought was on her skin, to finally stepping back and taking in the beauty, her beauty. She decided she'd just help them get to the appreciating her beauty quicker; who cares if they're acting like a curious child?

Fast forward some 20, 15, 30 or maybe 40 years later, and here I stood before this woman. A woman who looked 100 years old, but she spoke with such verve, I knew she couldn't be a day over 40. Her willingness to help made me understand that though there are bad people in this world, there also are good people and it behove me to find those good people, but I couldn't get past her partly cooked, partly overdone and mostly burnt skin to appreciate that she is a woman who didn't know me, but was going out of her way to assist. With a grimace, I mumbled a "thank you" and hurried along hoping and praying I never, ever saw something (someone) as ghastly looking as this woman.

When has bleaching ever been a good idea?

Festival of Plays

This Christmas...

Roverman Productions Festival of Plays.

Featuring 5 of Ebo Whyte's finest plays.

Saturday, December 23, 2017 - Damaged Goods

Sunday, December 24, 2017 - Blackmail

Monday, December 25, 2017 - The Comeback

Monday, January 1, 2018 - Nicholas

Tuesday, January 2, 2018 - Everyone Has a Secret

4 plays from 2017 and 1 play from 2012 will show at the National Theatre on 23rd, 24th, 25th December, 1st & 2nd January at 4pm and 8pm  each day. Tickets can be purchased from Joy FM; Shell Shops at Airport, Dansoman, Sakaman, Achimota & Tema Comm. 11; Baatsona & Haatso Total; Quick and Fine Supermarket opposite UPSA; Goil Shops at 37, Mile 7 & Sakaman; Frankies, Osu; Kpogas, Odorkor at GH¢80.00 for a Single Ticket and GH¢300.00 for a Festival Pack.

Alternatively, tickets can be purchased via flexiPAY at a 10% Discount.
1. Search for flexiPAY on Google Play Store for Android and Apple App Store for IOS
2. Download and install flexiPAY
3. Signup with your details
4. Login and buy tickets using Mobile Money, Visa or MasterCARD

Hotline: 0505546010

This year, let's try this. Rather than the usual gift hampers filled mostly with consumables, which are consumed and long forgotten, how about getting a festival pack for loved ones, friends and clients? They'll thank you for it!
Whenever a line from any of the plays is remembered, you'll definitely come to mind!

I can't think of a better Christmas present than Roverman Productions Festival of Plays!