Busted!

You!
Who stand for what you believe,
Whose word means more than a promise.

You!
Who cares more for others than self,
Who bears the brunt of others' cusses.

Where are you now?,
Self-appointed administrator of justice.
What went wrong?
Where are your beliefs?

You said you will wallow in poverty,
Reel in misery;
Honour badges you will wear with pride,
You proclaim.

Where are you now!
What happened to your conscience?
Who bought it?

You!
Who wear a badge of poverty and misery,
Dwell atop a castle mountain,
Gawk upon our heads.

You!
We called our own,
Gave our throne,
Have we condoned.

A Wonderful Discovery; My Special Blend Of Forgetfulness

Off to 3 Matthews we go and I am 7 and a half years old. As usual, we heard the stories about our new class teacher, Ms. Addico, or was it Mrs. Addico?, she was strict, and had her spectacles perched on her nose while peeking over the lenses.

For each new class we got promoted to, we were given a list of books to get before school reopens. The standard text books and stationary appeared, then I noticed a new item; a story book. Just that, a story book; no title, nothing. My parents got me The Dog and the Hognobs (or something like that; I remember a dog and some hog thingy) I won't bore you with the story, but the dog, the farmer and his wife survived, can't say the same about the hognobs though. :)

The first term started in our new class, 3 Matthews (oh, the other class was 3 Marks) with introductions all around. We got the new time table and with it an understanding of why the story book, siesta time had changed to Library time. We exchanged books when we were done with our own. We started writing essays under a new subject, Comprehension. Comprehension was not really my forte in spite my reading of almost all the books the 55 members of the class had brought. At the end of the term, a damming remark from my teacher got me all messed up; spelling is good but comprehension is poor. During the vac, before the start of the second term, a visit from Cecilia, a classmate, changed me forever. Cecilia's elder sister was going to take her to the library everyday until school reopened and she wanted to know if I would like to join them.(of course!) I went to the Ghana Library Board in Accra, and I fell in love.
Oh? What? I fell in love with BOOKS! I have been reading ever since. (Check my handbag when you meet me, I either have a hard book or reading off from my phone) I read anything and everything I could get my hands on, and still do. I visited the library twice a week, taking two books at a time (I was given the extra card because I was visiting the library almost everyday). When I ran out of books in the library (I think I was in junior high then), I was given the books from the Library's book club, even though I was not a member. I was in senior high when I was given the nod to use the adult's library (that is the name we kids gave to the library wing with huge books where only adults visited). My stay there was not long because there were no chairs and I had only one library card as opposed to the two I had at the Children's Library. My best friend then had a card that allowed her to use the private library; you get to take twenty five books at a time and keep it for a month. Guess what? I used it more than she did. I visited the new community library in my neighbour; finished with the books there. The US Embassy library had some pretty serious stuff; there I discovered books on Linux operating system and a whole lot of science stuff. My dad took up membership at the British Council Library (when it still existed) and give me the cards to use; three cards for kid books, three for adult books and another three for movies. I discovered Dr. Who.(Remember Dr. Who?)

One thing I won't forget, that in 3 Matthews, for the first time, I forgot my own birthday.

Next week: 4 Alpha

Next Stop

Occupying my daydreams,
You take over my night visions.

You are not a distraction,
Nor an obsession.

But surely, you have something,
I just can't fathom.

You are meant to be
That much I know.

Well-met, we are.
Where we go next, in our hands.

Special Threat @ 2 Lilies

Sorry about not posting this yesterday. It was due to circumstances beyond my control.

Two Lilies; the other class was 2 Roses, seemed uneventful compared to subsequent classes. Dare we make noise in class when our teacher steps out, we were made to lay our heads on our desks and receive strokes from the thin wispy cane our teacher always wended. I bet you that cane hurt more its heavy counterpart. I don't recall lessons in class 2; I remember the breaks for lunch because they were sometime we all looked forward to. Our teacher had a perpetual frown on her face and when she smiled, which was rare, she face lights up.

It wasn't all dreary in 2 Lilies. One day, just a few minutes before we closed for the day, a message came for one of my classmates, Ben Q. It was his 8th year birthday and a cake was brought to the class for the celebration and that wasn't all, a huge Coca-cola truck had entered the school premises. You guessed it!. Cola drinks for the whole school! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaai.

That day, we had fun. The whole school was in an uproar. Our teacher was initially against the idea of cutting the cake in the class but I think the other teachers convinced her to let us celebrate in the class. She kind of dulled the day for us but it was still fun.

Let me tell you this, Ben Q did not receive any beatings from our teacher till the week ended (lucky fellow); not even when his name got written down for talking.

One good thing that came out of this?, it sparked off a wave of birthday celebrations, which had me eating all sorts of cake, in the class, but never to the degree of Ben Q's. A Coca-cola truck in school? top that!

Next week: Forgetfulness and a Wonderful Discovery.

Burger-highlife Jazz

For the first time last two weeks, I invited +233, a jazz club at Kanda, Accra. I absolutely loved it and definitely will go there again.

George Darko, highly acclaimed guitarist and father of Burger-highlife in Ghana, performed marvelously with his band. I couldn't believe I could still remember the words of the songs, which he composed ages ago.

Paapa Koo Nimo was in attendance.

Koo Nimo and George Darko; what a combination!

I took a five minute video of the performance with my phone. Enjoy.

1 Gold and Why Was I Not The Teacher's Pet?

So there I was, class one Maame. Each class in primary school had a name peculiar to it. I was in One Gold and the other class was One Diamond. Two events struck my mind when I recall 1Gold.

First off, the teacher who normally teaches 1Gold was no longer coming to class. We were so happy because we had heard she was an ogre. (lol) Anyway, we got a new teacher and she was so nice. I liked her right off. Unfortunately, she seemed fascinated by another classmate, because of her brother. (What can I say?!) I know because while introducing ourselves to her, she asked AO, my classmate, if she was related to ... from UCC. (Why can I recall such details? hmmmm) If it wasn't for the fact that we elected our class prefect, she would have selected AO (the initials of my classmate). I recall cutting a flower and placing it on my teacher's table on Vals' Day. (Can you imagine what she did when she got to the class?) She asked AO whether she placed it there? (*sign*, obviously not) I told her it was from the whole class, (I couldn't bear to say I did it) and wished her a happy Valentine; then she told us the story about St. Valentine. She was the sweetest teacher ever in primary school. Unfortunately, she left the school when we moved on to class two.

One other thing I remember, which I have blogged about, is the pact some friends and I made. I won't repeat what I posted, so check this to know the about pact we made.



Sorry this post was late in coming. I was undecided about a poem about ignored signals or this post. In the end, the post won. Enjoy my trip down memory lane. 

Next week: Special Treat.

She Called You Out

Guy: I don't understand you.
Gal: Why do you say that?

Guy: By all indications you like me as much as I like you. Why do you refuse to go out with me?
Gal: I can't. I just can't.

Guy: Why not? Is there someone else?
Gal: No! (shaking her head vehemently)

Guy: Then tell me why you refuse to go out with me. Something to make me understand since you do admit our attraction.
Gal: She called out on you.

Guy: What does that mean? Who called?(looking totally perplexed)
Gal: A friend. She likes you and now that you are available.....(she leaves the sentence open for interpretation)


Guy: What utter nonsense! Don't I have a say in who I decide to date?
Gal: Yes, of course, you do. She called out on you when I was undecided. She chose first.

Reminisces- Intro & 3 and 4 Years Old

I have not done a series before, so I am going to start one. I am going to keep it 'safe' by starting with earliest memories from childhood to the university; happenings that I recall. Some may be silly, insignificant, thought-provoking, obstinate, cruel, funny, but  all true. They happened to me or I did them and I will share with you every Monday or Wednesday (just so you check my blog on those days. :)).

At 3 Years to 4 Years

We came back to Ghana when I was four years old; that is what I am told. My dad was a lecturer in a school in Ogun State, Nigeria. I don't know the reason for our return and before you ask, no, I can't recall anything about my birth or life in Nigeria.

My earliest memory was crossing the street with my mum to attend creche.

I also remember my cousin, Auntie Lizzy, going around exclaiming to everyone that I had spoken Fante (a local dialect in Ghana). She had just arrived from my mum's hometown and was sitting on the porch outside; I remember playing in the sand beside her then getting up and saying, "Auntie Lizzy, me nan kro yi me yao" (meaning; Auntie Lizzy, my leg hurts); I had a boil on my leg, which was oozing.

In kindergarten one (KG1), a teacher hitting the back of my hand with a cane whenever I write on the chalkboard with my left hand. (I now write with my right hand and do everything else with my left hand). My mother telling a neighbour that I had to spend another year at KG1 because the teachers thought I was too quiet and shy. (I wasn't quiet, just always in deep thought. But it was all good because I resolved right then to start being more vocal. They should see me now. I can talk and keep quiet all at once. :))

A teacher asked me to bring my mum to the school in KG2 because I questioned her telling me to bring toilet tissue to school; reason being, I do not use the lavatory in the school, so why did I need to bring toilet tissue? I did bring my mum (after I told her what happened and what I thought), but I don't recall ever bringing that tissue; maybe my mum gave my teacher money to buy it. :)


Next week: Class One and Why Was I Not The Teacher's Pet?

Building Bridges

My dream,
To build a great bridge,
Able to bear all and sundry,
Leaving none at the threshold.

I build a bridge of dreams,
To ferry away tears and sorrow,
To cross vast rivers and enclaves,
To cross over boundaries; invisible battle lines.

For each brick I lay,
For each rod I bend,
I intertwine with existing forms,
Framework set in place
By those gone before me.

I lay mortar on each brick,
As the wall comes up, I recall,
This wall has come up before,
This bridge had been completed.
Once more I build,
I rebuild.
Then wonder,
Will it be in ruins again?
Who will do it this time?
Will this be in vain?
I hope not.
I pray not.