Thank You, My Friends. Bonded for Life

   Social media is playing a great part in our lives today. There are times I sit back and wonder. How would the old folk had handled social media? Even the usage of the cellular phone was in itself a novelty and mystery combined. I am actually laughing now. My mother on Whatsapp or dad? Eric was daddy ever on Whatsapp? Agya Boakye Boaten, can you relate to my question? If our parents had access to the social media back then, yours truly would have been a roman catholic priest ministering in the remotest part of Ghana. A typical dum-dum community. No dumsor! We would have been checked carefully every minute, every hour. The question still arises. What if? Whaaaaaat If?

   Social media has allowed us to keep in touch with people from all walks of life. Even those we do not know. Even Presidents and  the guy in the ER to the lady selling roasted yam and plantain.  Newspapers are almost non existent. It was all about homecomings. With the excitement of meeting classmates whom we had last seen about twenty five years earlier. Today , we know where they are, what they are doing, how many kids, husbands or wives, childhood crush confessions and above all pictures. The pictures. Social media allows us to express our views without fear. Unfortunately, some call ugly beautiful when in fact and reality it is ugly.  I mean it. No satire. No pun intended. Ugly is ugly. Decorum says hold it in. Just do not comment.

   Above all, Social Media has kept friendships alive. Forged new friendships. Strengthened old friendships. Broken the fake friendships. 

   The CEOs of House of Salford ( a Gh interior decorating company) and City Facilities Management ( another Gh based maintenance company) talked to me on Facebook Messenger. I have known them since 1997. Facebook and Twitter keeps us connected. Their words of encouragement on my writings necessitated this piece. In the words of Kafui Salford “….and some of the things are just what i want to say…… and you said it aloud” and “….so why comment….. but, I think we should encourage our brother otherwise he will not know he is doing well”.  These are true friends encouraging a friend. Not bringing me down. Same can be said of  Mike Obeng, Small Fekye, Kwakwe, Shiole the James, Esther, Sota, Peter , Enoch and a host of others. Family included( you know yourselves). M4 Brothers, Ghanaians in Ct. Friends. My Nucleus family. You are all my support. Who then are your friends? What can you say about your friends? A friend has a fianga friend by name George Garbrah. We do not know each other yet he encouraged me on my weight loss journey ( another story) rather than mock me. Another friend reminded me of how we used to bond like blood brothers. He was adamant my being over the seas could cause a break in the relationship. i am the only one faraway. The other three are in Ghana.

   What do you value in a friendship? Why do you call someone a friend? What is your definition of the words ” friend” and  “friendship” ? My friend Fekye (small) posits it is not about material gains but an exercise of spiritual magnitude that transcends the borders of imagination. I hold same to be true. Why wait and upon seeing the obituary lay claim to be a friend? What role did you play in his/her life? No you were not a friend. Just an acquainted with their presence sometime back. True friends bond. When water condenses it can become thicker than blood. That ingredient called LOVE is all it needs. Display your friendship. Flaunt it. 

   O I wish the president of Ghana would read this piece. The sycophantic relationship he is in with certain individuals calling themselves friends is having an effect on his style of leadership.

Are you my friend? Are you worthy to be called a friend?

 

#SILENT NOISES 92014

Bits and Pieces: Excerpts

In the beginning was the word. Over ages some have tried to change the word. What is etched in but on sand will be there for all to see. Some means not all are same. The world is a stage but what about those backstage?

When a friend becomes a brother or sister.

When they say it to you as it is but with discretion.

When they still got your back despite your shortcoming.
When they assist you to bring out the best in you.
Above all the encouragement.

For certain reasons, I mention no names but I am most appreciative and grateful

 

THE PARABLE OF THE FOOTPRINTS.

The ultimate. Do not ask me. Yours. Mine. Ours if it is a joint venture. The ultimate. Wet cement roads. Slippery clay roads. Quick sand roads. Grassy roads. Becareful lest you slip on the clay road and hurt yourself, or you get stuck in that wet cement or you sink in that quick sand. Stay on the grassy road. No footprints to be seen. Destination assured.

 

How good it is to sit and dine. Virginity of minds encircling a table. Purity of hearts sharing love. Stability of gaits devoid of Bacchus water. Full. Thoughts and composure. Full. Compassion. I pray it continues. Dream or wake? God be my help.

 

It is amazing. Very much so. How people pull it off and get away with it. How people portray themselves as the epitome of holiness yet are the devil’s incarnate.
She did not know who to turn to. She did not trust anyone. Not even the so called man of …. I beg or rather plead. To ask. Who, what, which made these to be proclaimed, acclaimed, and appointed with titles to lay claim to be of the royal priesthood? These days for a penny, one becomes a title holder. I digress. Her story. One of pain. One of sorrow. She had been bashed on the rocks of life. The ship that she was, built with a flotation device, she refused to go down. She drowned. Nowhere to be seen. A blow had been dealt her.
There she was. All wanted to befriend her. She had ridden on a low crest of a wave into port. She had docked safely. Only this time, her dock was God. Her creator. He had moulded her. He was her flotation device.
Then their eyes met. Anger, pain, love, hatred, forgiveness, amazement, peace. It was all there. Laughter, a giant kind smile, an easy going attitude was all it took.

Excerpt from the book. Untitled.

A #SILENT NOISES publication

The saga of You and I

This piece is dedicated to the selfless souls of Ghana. Dead or Alive. 

 

 

Circa 1992. Two  young men. Youthful exuberance at its peak. They had taken a car belonging to the father of one of them. Only one of them knew how to drive properly. The other drove by rote. You would think being the son of the owner of the car, he would try to boss it over the other young man. It was my dad’s. The other young man is my cousin Harry. The car in question was a 1972 BMW.  The color  could best be described as Tie and dye; then brown and finally military green. We were proud of the car.  Some of you know the car. What if I had never allowed Harry to teach me the rudiments of driving? 

2010. Parallel parking. Two young men again. One is well  versed in the art of driving. He  can drive any machine on the face of this earth.  The other admitted to him his lack of knowledge in parallel parking especially in a reverse format alongside other driving skills. Today I am well versed in driving coupled with what I knew previously. What if I had not allowed Enoch to teach how to park in tight corners and sharpen my skills on defensive driving?

How many of us admit we are not capable of something? Admittance is not a sign of weakness. It is a strength to recognize someone is capable  or more than able in a particular field. Why then do we take our cars to the mechanics? Why do we engage masons/ builders to construct our houses? Why do we?  When we are assigned duties or tasks that we know nothing about, instead of seeking those capable of doing it, we choose to do it ourselves leading to aviodable failings. We rather choose to destroy  or relegate those who are qualified and with the necessary expertise. The quest for self aggrandizement is just so pathetic. What do we seek to achieve? I am not good in economics. I simply hate numbers. I will not venture lecturing anyone on how to run an economy or how to do anything involving numbers. If I have no inkling what to do or how to go about it,  I will recommend one who can do it. The question is are you cut out for that job or role? Recently, I consulted one of my childhood friends to aid me in reorganising my resume. He was surprised. His position and current educational level put him in stead to teach me. My humility allowed me to go to Eric for help. Will you do that? How many times in our lives have we not lost a good thing just because we feel too big or just cannot fathom the fact that the boy from the village can do it better. How many of you can set a trap for bush meat? Before Ebola? 

It is for this reason that I love my schools. Bishop Herman College taught equality and assessing each others knowledge. Many notable business partnerships have accordingly emerged. Guggisberg House in Motown preached humility.  I am yet to see a haughty member of that noble house. Then Commonwealth Hall of the University of Ghana.  The V.A.N.D.A.L.S. Talents abound and are tapped and developed according to their area of competence. ( Note: not every member of this august institution has this attribute including The Fourth John) I do not know about your school but allow me to make noise about mine. I also condescend to the fact that, yes these schools are not perfect. I believe other schools might have or have had better if not best principles and inculcated into their students humility and all.

If we as a people, cannot appreciate each other, then I guess the dogs and cats will. Visit the pet aisle at the supermarkets and you will agree with me. The story is told of a guy ( illiterate) who kept holding kenkey parties on a regular basis at his bachelors pad. He asked one of the guys to buy corned beef one time. The guy came back saying it was too expensive. There was an argument. He offered to show the aisle where it was cheaper. On entering the store he led his friend towards the pet aisle and pointed out the corned beef. it was dog food with the imprint of cow features on it.

 I believe it is time to do away with tribalism, nepotism, individualism, selfishness, greed and that general attitude of ” why should I promote him/her?” Remember, the fingers of the hand are never the same. They rather complement each other. They admire each other and live in harmony. When they fight and one or two leave, the rest become handicapped in their day to day functions. Do not forget, each finger and thumb perform a peculiar function that is exclusive to them.

Until we help others to develop, we can never develop ourselves. If we do not prop our own to stand, who will prop us?

 

 

 

The writer is a motivational speaker, poet and author. 

 

Letter to Agyaku: An Unsung Hero

Good afternoon kind sir. I doubt you can make me out. This is so because I have put on so much weight. I am currently working on it. Sir I will come to that later. Things have been going downhill since you travelled. It is very bad. “3ny3 koraaa”. I write this letter to you to plead with the others, the great men and women of the motherland who like you were selfless and devoted to their country and sought not to gain materially to come to our aid. Divine Inspiration.

I was in Atlanta, Georgia this weekend and … Yesssir!!! I am that boy. Always in your house. I was in the same class with Kwaku. Dad, I have to tell you about the reunion in another letter. It was simply awesome. You know Kwaku is called Kwakwe, right? Hahahahaha. Uncle please do not ask why. He was an amazing host. For now I seek multiple blessings his way. I cannot describe it all here hence the other letter.

Uncle, the country as it is now is moving like a runaway train going down hill in a curve; it could derail at any given moment. The pride with which we grew up seeing Made In Goods is no longer there. The prez talks about promoting Ghana Goods but his wife wears a Brazilian Helmet for a wig or weave on. The Parliamentarians compete with British and Italian cuts. Companies are being shut down as though they are infected with the plague and when you are a successful businessman not on the side of the ruling party (current one) then you are termed abd categorised as criminal. Can you believe that guy is still walking around with an impish grin? the Supremos have ordered him to pay back the 51.2 to the state. As for that man in the legislative house, he claims the state has no case; Uncle Ebo Bart Simpson. O y3 cartoon paaa. Deputy chair. More Brawn. Agyaku,they are singing ” Yenti3 Obiaa” with impunity. Like a dying cockroach. Tweeeaaaa. The leadership has totally refused to seek help amongst the populace and are rather appointing people to office along party lines. How Agyaku? Nonsense paaaa!!! Now the people of Ghana are taking to the streets and #OCCUPYING. I blame them too. They have to get up and stand up for their rights. They have been dormant for too long. On the other hand, I believe they should help themselves first. Agyaku, all they care about is money, alcohol and sexually gratifying endeavors. AAAAARGH!!!

Agyaku, thanks a lot for allowing me to write to you. Please extend my greetings to my dad, my mom, my uncles, and those I know. Has Komla come in to say hello? Console Attah. he should have listened.

Sir, I salute you; Sir I am a Major, full Major; the only Civilian Major. We seek to emulate the lifestyle of humility, selflessness, dedication and devotion devoid of nepotism that you and a few exemplary ones exhibited when you visited Earth and stayed in Ghana.
“God bless our Homeland Ghana…” God keeps blessing us. what are we as a people doing with it?
” and help us to resist oppressors rule..” #OCCUPY….

#SILENT NOISES

Chronicles of a Civilian Major: The Pledge

” I promise on my honor to be faithful and loyal…”  So it was. So it is. So it must be. Rather it is ” I promise on my honor to create, loot and share…”   Why should it be so?  Few live in luxury and affluence. Weights have ballooned beyond measure. Water beds are the in thing. V8s minimum and V12s maximum. very soon it will be amphibious vehicles. The quest to accumulate riches overnight. Million dollars by any means necessary.   Mansions will be named. The judiciary is maimed. Where is thy faithfulness and loyalty?

We pledged ourselves to the service of our motherland with ALL our strength and All our heart. Tweeeaaaa. Are you my co-equal? The onus lie on you to the work. What do you have? What have you achieved? What is your level of success? I cannot stoop to your level. You must do all the work. Hey You!!! Get me a massage; you give my feet a pedicure. The impudence of affluence and yet we are blinded that we dare not discern truth from lies. Guess what some lies too are facts. They actually took place. We have allowed ourselves to be blinded by mediocrity, nepotism, greed and selfishness. Add more if I have left out any. It is easy to hide in the forest of the law.

We are not holding in high esteem our heritage won for us. The blood that was spilled is beginning to lose significance even to those at the helm of affairs. The vehicle has broken down. The transmission is shot. We need a complete overhauling of the system. I, The only civilian Major hereby command the Vehicle to fix itself and move. Hehehehehehehe. Like seriously? It has become natural to assuage our pain with jokes at the expense of the people. The very people who refused to vote the leadership into governance. The white wigged people of the land said it was so. Few people deciding for so many? I am not surprised after all only about two million out of twenty-five million inhabitants pay taxes. The baseless argument here is the women and children outnumber the men. Tweeeeaaaaaa  again!!!!

The hardworking people have been relegated to the background. Their toil is not seen. They are also perceived to be rotten because of the rotten tomatoes amongst the lot.  Sad. Seventy year olds are earning degrees.  Young in age are writing about fiftieth anniversaries. Learn from them. People with business acumen cannot do anything because you are strangling them with killer policies. I plead. I plead. NOOOOOOOO!!! It is my right. I will defend Her honor. I will acknowledge those who are doing good.

We are married to our land of birth. Our pledge is our vow. In truth let us uphold it.  Let not the toil of our fathers be in vain. I ask that we rebirth ourselves and recite the The Pledge with meaning. Let us raise high the flag of Ghana; Let us hail the name of Ghana and  God, please bless our homeland Ghana.

#SILENT NOISES 312014

Letter to my Dad 2: In a haze

Goodmorning Dad, how are you doing today?  I pray I am not disturbing you. Please take time to read this letter and act swiftly. I think it is very important. Sorry for rushing things. How is mom? Nana and Aunty R? My greetings. Are you still dieting? I never knew dieting is not that easy but gradually I am losing weight. I blame the weight gain on the Government. They have subsidized pork so it is cheap. Can you believe The GOG subsidized ‘Akonfem’ only for them to run away across the border? Lack of Border Guards or immigration officers led to them crossing the border in their numbers without Visas.  Here, the “quii” run about against the chickens. hahahahahaha. Speaking of GoG, dad, hmmmmm the country is going backwards.  The man put the GEAR into reverse. One way!!!! I am tempted to think he has a degree in Promisiology. He promises like a fox. Cunningly. The populace are beginning to see through it all. People are discerning fast. I think your talk about three types of people being in leadership has come to pass. GoG now has STATIC and RETROGRESSIVE leadership. I will further expatiate in my next letter.

I have finally come to terms that your wife, my mother is no more. It has been TEN years since her transfer. I finally bade her farewell. Guess what, the son of Uncle Ernest, the one who got his brother that he never knew a job is gone. Yes, he has come to jo in you. Just like that. No warning. Nothing!!! I dare not call Uncle Ernest. I am in so much grief I wish you were here. Please ask Angel Michael and Gabriel and all the heavenly hosts to comfort Uncle Ernest and family.

Dad,  the toils and fortitude with which you guys built GoG is gone. There is so much corruption and back stabbing you will not believe majority of the populace  chant ‘ by the blood of Jesus’ and ‘ Yesu mogya nka wani’ by the second. In the face of religiosity, crimes are being perpetrated. Everybody must chop and is chopping. Few are doing it the legitimate way. Another topic to visit on its own.

Ojukwu!!! Guy Loaf,CJ, Risky, Be careful, Kwabena Mensah, massa i miss you bad. Tell mummy I will write to her soon. She will be sad at the plight of teachers now but ?

Even Korle Bu is a hot mess. Instead of allocating money to fix things, the money is diverted to the office of the No 1 gentleman of the land. Now he has even promised to build a modern mortuary. Why?

Dad, I will be writing to you soon but for fear I will cap it under a Civilian Major. O yes! I am still a major. hehehehehe. Love you sir. Bye for now

 

#SILENT NOISES

An AKONFEM Xmas #silentnoises

      It is that time of the year again and I have a feeling it will be a sad one. Seriously it all depends on you. You can either lament or make the best out of it.  The fact that someone is having a comfortable seat on your happiness does not mean you cannot make the seat uncomfortable. Madiba’s exit brought tears. People exalted the man even calling him a saint. Black saint. The saint on a terrorist list. This is not irony. Iron can bend. Will you live like him? Can you be like him? Will you love your people and country  more or will your love of ASSets cloud your vision? That is if you have one. The speeches that were read and are still being read need volumes of dictionaries and encyclopedias in order for us to comprehend what you are trying so hard to say.  The comfortability of your people is paramount. Then maybe we will liken you to Madiba by referring to you as ‘Quarter m’.  Forget about adding the the ” ADIBA’.

      This christmas season will be celebrated WITHOUT the usual chickens and goats and sheep. It is an AKONFEM christmas. It will be cooked outdoors on an open pit fireplace lest there is too much heat in the kitchen.  I will definitely be too shy in asking you to leave.

      Join me as we head towards the market to buy AKONFEM. Notice the trotro sputters on the way only for us to be told to get down and push. Pushing the troski. It starts but unfortunately, the gears cannot be shifted hence we are in first gear. Trouble don come.  Stuck in one gear till ………….   The men and women in black drive us by only to screech to a halt. Why are you laughing? When you allow a dog to kiss you what do you expect? Now they are slashing the juniors monies in half. Thank God my son and your sons are not called junior.  Seriously I need a cell phone. I want a simple cellular that I can use to communicate with only you. Hehehehehe. I am not dumb. They think I am. I will uproot them like cassava or yam come that time. Unless I am thumbless. Cellphones that will only be used to communicate within a certain group of people. Makola women should get specialized cells then, likewise troski drivers. Next year I refuse to walk again. At least a two wheeled vehicle or Chinese manufactured three wheeler will do. Poverty has stayed with me for far too long. V8s and V12s are the order of the day. They better declare their ASSets before assuming any position. Please no firing for declaration of ASSets. Leave them be. 

      Now the merchants are without a bank. Lamentations of Awuni. A Martin Amidu to the rescue. What about you?  Action. Gradually the talk will move the masses. I believe so. Fortiz wil provide GYEEDAic AKONFEMS that have  been SUBAHrised to the masses. as for me, Vicky, I am only leaking the Filla. Our christmas song will be DONKOMI.  

      A Fellow spoke of Ghana. He was ably supported. Nana ayeeko. Dear GOD please give to all parliamentarians and politicians of  the land, the Head and his Neck and all  who matter copies of ‘I SPEAK OF GHANA’. That is my wish for the coming year.

Son of man visit http://www.zoobashop.com. They make shopping easier.  Do not forget to  get copies of ‘Anansesem, Ghanaian Folktales’ for the kids. Advise my people to drive carefully. I need all come 2016. God Bless Ghana.

this blog is unedited.

 

#SILENTNOISES 2013

In God we trust

Son of man, how come these days you do not call me? Anyway, I have been thinking seriously about our last discussion.  I have to admit that the lady deserves commendation. I wonder how after the way She was treated and is still being treated, She is still holding Her head up. I heard Her cry as I went to bed the other night and it was gut wrenching. I have thus decided to write a simple citizen’s note to my people to look into it.

 Please consider my appeal and spread the word to other citizens to protect this lady. Despite Her wealth, She is in constant poverty and it is sad to see other people feeding of Her wealth. I wonder why nobody protects Her. I love Her so much I wrote this poem in Her honor. If only you will allow it to be read in Her honor soon.

I pray for her

You prey on her

You are bold to defend your cause of looting

I am bold to defend the cause of freedom

 You take away my rights

In gentle tones you convince me to oppress myself

The rumblings and rants of a cash crazed elite

Who dwell on the dollar frequency to trod

Ever so sure confuse me

You prey on her

I pray for her

In the pulpit you stand

Calling for a tenth though I do not work

Tell that to the vultures

I forget you are one

Cloaked in a book written by my forebears

Stolen and given to you by my would be oppressors

You prey on me. Vulture!

 

I pray for Her so you stop preying on Her

I pray for true humility for you

I pray for you to cherish, uphold

Honesty with Absolute Fearlessness

I pray for you to rise up and resist

Smooth tongues are persuasive

 

#SILENT NOISES 2013

 

 

 

 

LETTER TO MY DAD

Hi dad, Happy Father’s day!!! I miss you dad. Are you still eating fufu everyday or now you are on diet? Are you still practicing law? How are uncles and aunties doing? Dad, this letter basically is an apology to you and Mom for my behavior at times. Your disciplinary tactics have paid off. I now understand you more than ever before. People don’t seem to understand me but Dad, I …know you will because I am a chip (more like a replica) of the old block. Yes, I will not compromise on my principles and disciplinary standards  and its all good. More respect always. Love you Dad. Mr. K.W. Mensah thank you. Thank you so much. Dad please say hi to Mommy.
NB. I will not be writing to you again for some time because your grand kids are giving me Wahala.

The Chronicles of a Civilian Major: The Last Post

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Warning
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Warning.

October 11, 2012

Sunday morning. 4.00am. Sound of gunfire- rapid staccato–ratatatatatatatata. Drop down. Hide under the bed. Cock my ears. Daaaaaaaaaaaamn!!!!!!. It is only the sound of angelic language aka tongues. Maame Esi is at it again. This woman ought to be employed by the security agencies. She is very good. A human machine gun without bullets.
The deal… is this. Every Sunday morning Maame  Esi prays at the top of her voice and the language changes every Sunday. The neighbourhood is caught unawares, like today. Hmmmmm. Why? Now I hear her yelling at everybody to get ready for church. She throws in a few choice words for the slow ones. Sunday morning.
Today be today. All die be die. I decide to visit Maame Esi’s church.I honour a long standing invitation from Maame Esi. Brethren pray for me!!!!
Praises!! Praises!! The congregation is singing praises as we enter.  Come and see dancing: breaks, cotolo, co guon, agyeii, booty shaking, name it!! Sheeege!!! Pastors and elders are dancing like crazy. Harvest time!!!! hehehehehe!!!!
Sermon. Maame Esi jumps up at every opportunity to shout ” Praise the Lord”; ” Osofo preach on”;” Ingo no wo wo so” literally meaning  ” The oil is on you”  and the likes.
Funny bit here; actually food for thought. As soon as church is over, Maame Esi walks over to Auntie Ataa and accuses her of rumour mongering. Tempers flare. Insults are traded. Vulgar insults. Openly. Church premises. Wow!!! The saint just turned into a demon.
Asem Biggie!!  Maame Esi invites me to her house for lunch. Good news. I happen to be starving. Bachelors do not have choice meals often.  After all the display of piety, holiness, spiritual anointing a table of assorted drinks (water not included) is set before me. Eiiish. My glass runneth over. Maame is downing shots faster than ABC recitals. Kweeeemo. Now the language is unbecoming of her and on a  Sunday too? Aaaaabaaa! Just before eating , Maame Esi gets a phone call. Words fly at supersonic speed. Finally the last word is at a snail’s pace……. Onya…………. Your guess is good. I cannot and will not write out that word. Maame Esi is picked up by a friend  to attend the evening’s service. Walahi!! I leave for home. I am thinking.
There are many men and women amongst us today who lead a double life like Maame Esi. We portray holiness on one end and exhibit an unbecoming attitude on the other end. What message are sending out to those emulating us and our own selves? Brethren let us be true to ourselves. Onyame ehu wooo!!!