Long Journey 3

Another Friday is here, so y’all know what that means… the story continues! By now, I’m sure most of you have barbed the connection, so less of my nansins. Let’s see what occurs next… 

Saturday morning had the boys in Nana Opoku’s house in a lively mood. Right after morning devotion, one of the seniors had told his mates about a recent news item involving a new mother’s plea for help, as she had recently given birth to triplets, and upon hearing the news, her husband had run away. Now the dormitories were buzzing with intense discussion.
“He be stupid idiot!” one boy said furiously. “Ah, how you fit lef your wife at such a time?”

“Ibi shocking kraaa, Aramis,” the boy sitting next to him on the bed agreed. “He never force. If money no dey, e never be excuse sey you for lef am just like that. Ibi like he lef the hospital naa wey he boot lef them. Ibi serious bitch move he do.”

“Chale, you never know oo. It probably wasn’t what he bargained for,” one other guy across the two put in, shrugging.

The two immediately turned on him. “Ah, but Lexi too, what you dey talk?” Aramis snapped. “You eat the tin finish, now you dey come do bargain for the what and for the where? Why, the woman get power choose the number of kiddies e go dey the stomach inside? Ah, nigga wei paa! Make you no dey talk that thing!”

As the heat in that debate started to escalate, Nana Opoku and his close friend Elikem moved out of the dorm to get to their work places. For Elikem, that was the main compound of the house, and for Nana, the housemaster’s bungalow.

“Chale, that thing the guys dey talk about diԑԑ, ibi yawa paa. The guy be some serious coward,” Elikem commented as they descended the stairs.

“Hmmm, yeah,” Nana agreed. “If the guy no return, e go affect the kiddies… I dey hope sey he go return. Those babies no dey deserve such heartlessness. They deserve a father who will actually stick around and raise them and not place his selfish desires over their needs.”

Elikem stopped. He could sense a tint of bitterness in Nana’s voice with that last statement. Having known him for the past one year – their friendship beginning the moment they met on the first day of their schooling journey here – he knew that sensitive aspect of Nana’s life that most boys didn’t. He knew that there were times Nana still felt anger towards his father for walking out on him, and that the mask he often put up was nothing but that: a mask.

As he stared at his friend, who now had a pretty stony expression on his face, he knew there was nothing he could really say. The second of four children, he had a more fortunate background, as his father was the caring and responsible type.

“Chale,” he mumbled, putting his hand on Nana’s shoulder.

That touch had Nana snapping out of what seemed to be a bitter reverie. He shook his head. “Eli, sorry, chale. My mind just go some place. These kiddies dema case be bad pass my own, though. I mean, inobi sey some fling bi wey the guy boot. Marriage ankasa, wey the man dey run.”

“Yeah. The guy be jon pass,” Elikem agreed. “This trash attitude sey niggas go eat chics preg them, then boot never dey help. That cowardly mindset for change.”

“Wow, that’s wonderful! I’m excited for you!” Ben said gleefully as he and Joseph embraced their big sister upon hearing the news of her finally getting involved with a man.
Ever since Chris had impregnated her and ran away, she had absolutely sworn off relationships, choosing to focus all that attention on her son. The pain had been too much to bear, and so she chose the single-for-life route. It wasn’t long, however, until she felt that that was not the path for her. Other ladies may have been successful with that, but she wanted a relationship. So ever since Nana entered his teens, she had been hoping to find a good man. Unfortunately, many of those who would have been interested seemed put off by the knowledge of her being a single mother.

This new guy, however, was the answer to her prayers. Henry Fosuhene, a top official at one of the leading banks in the country, had noticed Evelyn a few months ago, and being a single man for such a long time, he made his move. Clearly unperturbed by the knowledge of Nana, after about four months of constant communication, he made it clear what he wanted. The charming, God-fearing man he was, she gleefully accepted.

“Thanks, guys,” she said as they let her go. “Henry’s a wonderful guy. These past few months have been great, getting to know him better. We’ve got a pretty amazing connection. I’m sure nothing but goodness will come out of this.”

“Definitely, definitely. We pray so,” Joseph said, nodding as he and Ben took their seats. 

“Indeed. Now I’m well over the whole Chris episode,” she said with an air of triumph as the two nodded in agreement.

“So that fool never even bothered to find out what happened with you?” Ben asked, more rhetorically than anything else.

As expected, Evelyn shook her head. “Nothing oo, Ben. Nothing. Kyԑrԑsԑ, once I refused to abort Nana, that was it. He decided to go his own way and never have anything to do with me.”

Ben sighed as he shook his head. “As for some guys, you just don’t understand them. Selfishness in warm flesh. As long as they get their desires, whatever follows is not their business or their concern. Makes me sick to the stomach just thinking about it.”

“Ben, don’t stress yourself about it,” Evelyn assured him. “I’m over it now. He hurt me really bad, but at the end of the day, it’s his loss. If he wants to go and sleep with all the girls wherever he is, that’s not my problem. Chris is dead to me. Six feet down the dirt. Dead.”


As Paa Yaw took a bucket from the bathroom, ready to go and fetch water from the Polytank outside, he thought back to his recent escapades. All those secret sessions with the Mariam girl. He smiled for a brief second as the thoughts brought him a few pleasuring tingles, but they instantly died out as he remembered what his in-law had mentioned last night.

Shaking his head as he remembered how much time he had wasted, he remembered something brief from his past…

I have my whole life ahead of me, and the last thing I need at this stage is fatherhood.

“Uh, I didn’t need to remember that,” he snapped to himself. “That aspect of my life is over. That’s why I’ve never returned to Accra since, and I don’t want to. No need to remember that girl and all the trouble that came with her. All I need now is to get a good job and make sure I keep it. And try to avoid the small girls… hehe, Lord knows that’ll be a problem,” smirking to himself as he moved towards the back door.

Stepping outside, he saw a young man in the school lacoste and brown shorts, busily sweeping. His first guess was that this boy must be working for the house as part of his duties.

“Hey!” he called out in a harsh, unfriendly voice.

The young man looked up from his position, looking straight at him.

“Who are you?” Paa Yaw asked, still in an unfriendly tone of voice.

The boy looked puzzled, obviously aware that this must be some new guy in the house. He then responded, “I’m Nana Opoku Addo.”

Giving him a painfully disdainful look, Paa Yaw moved a few steps forward, then asked, “Where do you come from?”

“My hometown or where I stay during vacation?”
Paa Yaw immediately wanted to say something nasty, but knew he’d make himself look stupid if he did, so he rephrased the question. “Where do you stay?”


The look on his face turned to scornful. “Why, ibi the whole Accra you dey stay for?”

“Dansoman in Accra.”

“Ah, why, you dey own all the houses for Dansoman or something?”

“I live around Exhibition, near the Ecobank side,” Nana responded, starting to sound irritated by the unnecessary and weak sarcasm being portrayed.

Paa Yaw gave him an up-and-down look, which was punctuated with a loud ‘Mtcchheewwww’. He walked on to the Polytank without another word to fetch his water, too busy on his little mission to hear what Nana, in annoyance, said.

“Stupid buffoon.”

Well, that certainly wasn’t a pleasant first meeting. I wonder what’s going to happen in the next couple of weeks. Only one way to find out… stay tuned! 

Long Journey 2

Another week comes to an end, which means… another episode of Long Journey! Woohoo! Truth be told, though, I’ve been soooo occupied this week, I thank God He gave me the strength to write this one ahead of time, else y’all would rip me to shreds and call me a ‘Chris’ for disappointing you. Loool.

So lemme quickly drop this: my church officially is on the podcast map! You can visit the Firm Foundation Podcast to catch up on what’s going on in the youth ministry of Action Chapel International, or if you already have a podcast app on your phone, just type the name in.

Also, I’m dedicating this to my shepherd, Nuria Ashitey, who’s celebrating her birthday today. I’m thanking God for her life, and pray she continues to walk in fulfillment of her divine assignment. Oh yeah, and for patience to deal with the nutcase I tend to be, hehehe. 

Enough of the shoutouts, let’s get back to the story…

“Yeah, that’s what Maame told me. Hopefully, the courts will spare her since she did her best to get a qualified midwife before going ahead to attempt the duties herself. If not, she’d probably be held liable or something like that. You know Maame already; the girl doesn’t joke with her legal things,” Mr. Alfred Yeboah said to Evelyn.

“Not at all,” she agreed. “Well, it’s time for me to get back to Accra. Great meeting you again. I’ll definitely be keeping in touch to know how Nana is doing.”

“Sure. He had a good first year. No problems, no issues. Just the occasional bullying complaints here and there which I took care of swiftly. Some boys tend to misbehave when they get some seniority, but I’m keenly keeping my eyes on him. Nothing to worry about.”

“I trust you, Mr. Yeboah.” She smiled as she rose from her seat and walked to the front door. “Greetings to Maame and her husband. And tell her to relax with all of the ‘I put it to you’ things.”

“Haha! I surely will. Goodbye and safe journey, Evelyn!”

“Goodbye, Mr. Yeboah!”

As she walked from the bungalow of her son’s housemaster to the car, she waved to one of the boys standing around the nearby building, asking him to call her boy.

The boy quickly moved to one open door and yelled, “Hey, Nana Po! Your momi dey search you!”

Half a minute later, and he emerged.

Nana Opoku Addo.

A sixteen year old boy of average height, with a pretty muscular frame. With piercing eyes and a round jawline, he was quite a unique kind of young man. He tended to look a lot like his mother, and he also had her strong-willed demeanour, which sometimes made for a couple of unpleasant clashes between the two. Those were far and few in between, however. The bond between Evelyn and her son was one of a kind; there was practically nothing the two kept from each other.

Well, except the full story behind the issue of his fatherlessness.

All Nana knew was that his father had bailed out on them long before he was born, and wanted nothing to do with them. His mother didn’t deem it worthwhile letting him know anything beyond that fact. Besides, her father and two brothers were enough father figures for the boy, she had always reasoned to herself. He had initially not liked the idea, but with time had warmed up to it, seemingly convinced by his mother’s firm assertion that the man who helped bring him into this world had zero intentions of seeing him.

Now a second year student at St. Mary’s Boys SHS, Nana seemed quite satisfied with the state of affairs. Fully supported by his grandfather and Uncles Henry and Ben, he had a lot to be happy about. And as his mother had entrusted him into the hands of his housemaster, who had him work at his home, life was good.

“Nana, it’s time for me to go,” Evelyn started. “Now remember, use your money wisely, and this term, make sure you do better with the Elective Maths. I know it’s difficult, but some extra effort will definitely help.”

“Yes ma. I’ll get some help from Elikem this time round.”

“Good. So your money is with Mr. Yeboah. You already know what to do. Let me leave you to join your boys. God bless, sweetie! Love you!” Evelyn said, punctuating her last statement with a kiss on the forehead. As she entered the passenger seat, the driver waved at him. “Have a good term, Nana!”

“Thank you!” Nana responded, giving a quick wave before turning to rush back to the room he had come from.

The car sped off.


Mr. Yeboah sat in the couch, watching the evening news as his wife completed her mission in the kitchen to make banku with okro stew the way only she knew how to.

“Hmm. These politicians and their blame games,” he murmured to himself as he watched the guest speakers begin the kind of squabble that was nothing strange to any Ghanaian.

“Are they arguing over those unused state vehicles?” his wife asked as she came out of the kitchen with the bowl of food in her hand.

“Hm, Araba. The usual oo. One party trying to pin the blame on the other. The way issues are politicized here diԑԑ…”

“It’s annoying. This issue too, what use is there trying to paint the other party black? It’s already happened. The cars are wasting away. They should just look to get the government to recoup the money wasted. That’s the problem with politics in this nation. No time for solving problems, but all the time in the world for pointing fingers at the source.”

“As well as making fancy promises that are never kept,” he added as he joined Araba at the table. Just then, there was a knock at the door.

The two looked at each other. “He’s in,” said Alfred.


“You were sleeping with Mariam?!” Araba exclaimed incredulously. “Paa Yaw, what the hell is wrong with you? She’s a cousin, for God’s sake! Distant, maybe, but she’s still a cousin! And she’s about 26. You’re 41! What the hell were you thinking?”

Paa Yaw, seemingly doing his best to be oblivious to his cousin’s outburst, shrugged nonchalantly. Since he left Juaben to arrive in Apowa, he knew that was the reaction that would come from her. “I’m sorry, Araba. I know it was wrong. But… it was just too hard to resist. I would’ve said it was the devil that made me do it, but… with that body of hers, no red, horned creature needed to push me…”

“Abrantie, don’t make me come and slap some sense into that stupid coconut of yours!” Araba snapped, already springing to her feet. She certainly didn’t need a high IQ to know that there was absolutely no remorse whatsoever in him, and was ready to deliver a few dirty ones to his face.

“Sweetheart, easy,” Alfred pleaded, rising up to calm his wife. He glared at Paa Yaw as he managed to get them back on the couch. “Paa Yaw, this is a serious issue. This ‘I-don-care’ attitude is not helpful. Doesn’t the fact that you were kicked out once it was discovered mean anything to you? Don’t you care?”

Paa Yaw stayed silent.

“For as long as I’ve known you, it’s been nothing but trouble wherever you go. Problems with keeping a job. Problems with women. Problems with money. Why? What’s wrong with you? Is this the life you want? I remember a few years ago, you were saying you have a whole lot to do with your life. Is this the ‘whole lot’ you were talking about? Moving around the country aimlessly whilst satisfying every flimsy urge of yours? You’re in your 40s, Paa Yaw! Those days of fooling around ended a long time ago!”

Paa Yaw had his head down.

“Listen,” Araba said after a few moments of silence. “You’re here now. In spite of your foolishness, we’ve opened our home to you. What we need from you now is to get yourself together and put your life in order. At least, get a proper job and actually keep it.”

“That’s why I’m here, Araba,” Paa Yaw responded. “Hopefully, I can get something good. I’d like to rest in my room now, if you don’t mind.”

“Fine. You can go.”

He jumped up and quickly went to his room.

Alfred shook his head. “This guy…”

“I just don’t know what to do with him anymore,” Araba complained, her face in her palm as she shook her head. “I just don’t understand him.”

“I dunno, but… sometimes, it feels like he’s running from something. That’s the vibe I get about him sometimes. Like there’s something he has to face, but he continues to choose the flight option… ah well, I don’t know… let’s check CNN and see if Amanpour has started.”

Ooooooh… could it be that Paa Yaw is… hmmm, it could be. Is there a probable reunion in the works? And how is it going to be like? And ugh, isn’t he some nasty dude? All the answers will slowly be unraveled in the coming weeks. Stay tuned!

Long Journey

The day has finally come! After the excitement of Start Over?, where we followed the triangle of Marcus, Allison and Temwani, now comes something new from the brain of yours truly. A tale of adventure, drama, betrayal… ok, you know what? I’m talking too much. The distin is right below, so, let’s get into it…

“Here’s the money I spoke about,” Chris said flatly, tossing the wad of cash onto the center table.

Evelyn eyed him evilly. “What are you talking about?”

“Look, I’m not in the mood for games right now. We already spoke about this. That’s about enough for you to go and get the abortion I’ve consistently ordered you to get.”

Evelyn shook her head. “Mr. Man, I have said it consistently: I will NOT get an abortion. I will not get rid of this child. I don’t care what you say, this child is not going anywhere.”

“Oh, will you stop this!” Chris shot back, the acrimony in the room already rising. This line of argument had been going on for weeks, without either party coming to any compromise of any sort. “I’m honestly getting sick and tired of all this nonsense. I don’t want that child. I don’t! I have my whole life ahead of me, and the last thing I need at this stage is fatherhood.”

Evelyn shook her head. “You’re so full of yourself. So selfish. After walking into my life and into my panties with all those false statements of love and all, you now have the audacity to say you have your life to live, after messing mine up…”

“Massa, massa, stop this emotional talk,” he responded dismissively. “I don’t know why you women attach so much emotion to your arguments. Hoh! How has your life been messed up? Didn’t you enjoy it when we made love in the car? Did I point a gun to your head and force you to scream and call me daddy as things got heated? Please, please, please, spare me that sentimental trash. It’s just a foetus. You can have another one in the future.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Man, this foetus you’re talking about is my child, and your child, and our child,” Evelyn retorted, springing to her feet. “I’m no happier about this announcement than you are, but as long as this child is in my womb, I’m having him. I’m not risking a lifetime of guilt for your silly desires. And for your information, this is not some object I can throw away just like that. Have some respect. This is human life inside me.”

Chris sighed. This was getting tiring. “What’s the big deal about an abortion? I know it’s not exactly the smoothest of medical procedures, but… there are so many chics like you walking about who have had abortions before. And they’re as happy as can be. So I really don’t get your beef with this.”

“Christopher Yaw Ennin Abbey, read my lips,” Evelyn said slowly and gravely, looking him in the eyeball. “I do not give a coin’s toss about which girl has done it and whether she feels good about it or not. I do not care what excuse or justification you have up your sleeve. I will not abort this child. I will not take that money and do with it what you want me to. I will not let you have your way with me a second time, since this is the result of you having your way with me the first time. I. Will. Not. Do. It. Period.”

The two, who were once caught up in an intense whirlwind of passion, now stood face-to-face, boiling with animosity for each other.

Chris, after a few lip twitches, finally nodded, the look on his face seemingly that of a person who had given up. He moved to the center table and picked up the money.

“Ok. Alright. I hear you. No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said bluntly as he turned and walked out the door.


The next morning, as Evelyn rose from her bed, she remembered that statement as she went on her knees. Among her many prayers, the most prominent of which was the daily plea for forgiveness for letting Chris break her virginity, included a request to make Chris susceptible to actually being a father.

Immediately she was done, she sprung to her feet and grabbed her phone which lay by the bedside. Searching for Chris’ number, she pressed the call button as soon as she found it.

“Sorry, the number you are dialing is switched off,” the automated voice informed her.

She looked strangely at the screen. Switched off? Ei, what’s happening?…… ok, calm down. His battery is probably dead, she reasoned to herself as she placed the phone back down. In the course of their arguments, Chris would always walk out in a fit of rage, never really interested in contacting her for a long time. The way he had promised he’d see her that day, though, was interesting. Despite the flat tone he had said it in.

Who knows? Maybe my hardened stance against the abortion has shaken him up so bad, he knows he has to compromise. He’s so used to having his way with women and making them some uber-submissive doormats. Well, it’s definitely not happening with me!

She went about her regular duties, making up her mind to call again around 11 o’ clock. Hopefully, his phone would be on by then.


4 o’ clock in the afternoon, and the phone was still off.

Evelyn was now beginning to panic. Had he been involved in an accident or something?

She tried calling two of his closest friends. One also had his phone switched off. The other claimed he hadn’t seen Chris for almost a week.

Now she was really getting worried.

Let me go to his place and see what at all is happening. I don’t like what’s going on….


Walking through the Akweteyman neighborhood, she waved at the kenkey seller as she always did when she came to visit.  She knew that woman made her the subject of many gossip sessions with the ladies in her compound house, as Chris had mentioned some time ago, but that was the least of her concerns as she briskly made her way to his house.

Two houses away was a shop from where the residents bought their provisions. As Evelyn passed by the shop, she heard a little girl’s voice ring out, “Sister Evelyn!”

It was Adoley, the shopkeeper’s 9 year old daughter.

Evelyn smiled as she saw the cute girl move towards her, but upon seeing the look upon her face, which was one of concern, had her slightly more worried than she already was. Keeping the smile on her face, she asked, “Adoley, how are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” the young one replied.  “Please, are you coming for the rest of Bra Chris’ things?”

Terror gripped Evelyn as she heard that question. Oh my God! Eyes wide, she stuttered, “Err… N..n..no. Why? W-w-why do you ask? Accident? ”

Adoley scratched her head. “No. I heard him talking to Mummy this morning. It sounded like he’s traveling or something. And it sounded like he’s not coming back. So I thought you were coming for the rest of his things.”

Evelyn grew pale upon hearing that middle statement. Leaning forward with a nauseous look on her face, she whispered, “What?”

Just as Adoley worriedly asked what was wrong, her mother walked in. Seeing the sudden deathly expression on Evelyn’s face, she rushed over. “Evelyn!”

“Ma, is it true? Has Chris left?”

The mother looked surprised for a moment, then shook her head, hands on her waist. “I knew this boy was lying. He claimed you knew and that you were okay with it. I tried talking him out of it, because it’s just too out of the blue, but he was not going to listen. For whatever reason, he’s left Accra. And according to him, he’s not coming back.”

Evelyn could do nothing more than shake her head as she was helped by Adoley and her mother to a seat. “I can’t believe he did this to me,” she whispered tearfully. “I just can’t believe this…”

Well, that’s quite a start to this story. Wondering what’s gonna happen to Evelyn now that baby daddy has run away? Just stay tuned for the next episode!

It Stops Now

It’s been so long since I last came on here. Well, whatever the case be, I’m finally back! And here’s something I came up with. I wanna see if I can do another series this time round. Hopefully, by the end of this month, I’ll be sure about that. Well, let’s get into this. This is undoubtedly very long, but I trust you’ll like it regardless…

He picked up the phone, and calmly scrolled through the call log. Finding the number he was looking for, he pressed the call button and held the phone to his ear.

The dial tone sounded twice, and in the middle of the third beep, the recipient answered the phone.


“Yes, good evening. This is Mr. Nathan. I’d like to confirm the deal.”

“Oh yes… uh, yes, sir. I thought for a moment you weren’t interested after our conversation last week.”

A silent laugh over the phone to that statement followed, then, “Chief, once it has something to do with the possibility of making more money, I will always be interested.”

“Oh, uh, ok, sir. Forgive me. I was just distracted by the tone and all…”

“Forget about that,” Nathan said sharply. “It’s time to talk business now. So the proposal is still available, right?”

“Yes, sir. Most definitely. I’ve been tracking a particular target for a couple of days now, ever since our first talk. If you’re ready, I can get to work as early as tomorrow.”

“So soon?”

“Yes. It won’t be any major hustle. It’s Tuesday, right? You can come around on Thursday morning, with the money.”

“Oh, excellent. That would be fantastic,” Nathan said passionately, obviously very pleased with how speedy the process sounded.

“Yes… umm, just to clarify, do I execute straight away?”

“No. I’d like to see the target for myself before you get to do the main work.”

“Hmmm… I see. Not many customers make that sort of request.”

“Well, I’m a different breed. I do my business differently. Any problem with that?”

“No, sir, not at all. The first time we met, I could tell you’re something else. No problems at all. Now that you’ve confirmed the deal, I’m going to get to work on it straight away.”

“Good! So I’ll be expecting your call once the target has been acquired.”

“Not a problem at all, sir. You shall hear from me by this time tomorrow.”

“Excellent. Thank you very much. Good night.”

*                                    *                               *                          *

“Alright, good seeing you! Now that I’ve got your number, I’ll definitely keep in touch,” Joe gushed enthusiastically as he shook hands with the old friend he had just had a long chat.

“Sure thing. Talk to you later, and stay safe,” the old friend said, waving as Joe left the restaurant.

It sure is good to meet with old friends! he thought to himself as he briskly walked the streets. It was around 9pm on a Wednesday evening. As usual, he had a couple of people stare at him in an odd manner as he passed by. He could feel the typical stares of surprise as he went his way. Shrugging to himself, he just said, “Normal.” He was quite used to that sort of treatment, and it hardly bothered him.

As he moved further away from the busy streets and on to the rather deserted road leading to the apartment, a sudden wave of tense fear washed over him. Given the few robberies on that stretch of road, which had only a broken down van by the wayside, this was not a trip the faint-hearted would enjoy taking. Having moved in about two months ago, every time he had to pass around here at this time of the night was a nerve-wrecking one. So far, he hadn’t witnessed any attack, much less experienced it, but a sense of safety and security was far from settling in his soul.

“We really need to get the rest of these streetlights fixed,” he muttered as he walked past one. “And I don’t get why this van has been left by the wayside like this. I’ll definitely have to alert some of the neighbours so we get this thing towed away.”

He increased his footsteps as he walked past the vehicle. “It’s so careless how the owner just dumped it here. Pure breeding grounds for armed robbers and the like…”

He stopped in mid-sentence as he heard a sound.

The back door of the van swung open, and out jumped two figures, both clad in all black.

A first time for everything, goes the adage. A first time nobody ever wants to experience.

Adrenalin poring through his veins, Joe took the ‘flight’ option, and ran, hoping to get close to the neighbourhood as quickly as possible and raise an alarm.

That wasn’t to be. From the moment they started chasing, it felt like Usain Bolt and a clone of him were the ones in those masks. The harder Joe pushed himself to run, the quicker they seemed to catch up.

One of them pounced, catching Joe right by the waist, bringing him down to the ground. As Joe tried to struggle himself out of his aggressor’s grasp, face down on the ground, he felt the second one grab him, and as he was turned over, the first guy let go of his waist.

His first thought was to kick out at the one who had tackled him to the ground, and quickly find out what to do to the second aggressor. The latter, however, had other ideas.

And a seemingly iron fist. Literally.

The impact his fist made with Joe’s nose was enough to knock their victim into unconsciousness.

*                       *                              *                                     *

When he regained consciousness, he was bound up and tied to a chair. In a dark room.

Where the hell am I? he wondered as he winced at the lingering pain caused by that staggering blow to the nose. It didn’t take too long for him to figure out the answer.

He was a hostage at a witchdoctor’s place.

The constant robbery attacks were one thing, but people like him had a far greater issue. His skin pigmentation made him a prospective victim of a wicked superstition that convinced people that his body parts would make them rich and bring them all sorts of good luck and fortune. Already, a number of others had been killed, most likely by this same witchdoctor, and it looked like he would be the next one.

Yep. Joe is an albino.

*                        *                                  *                                   *

Nathan’s phone rang at 11:45 pm. As he peered at the caller ID, he smiled and nodded his head. Pressing the receive button, he said, “I take it you kept your word.”

“Yes, boss. My men were on point tonight. The target is in our custody as I speak. Slightly bloodied, since he tried to put up a bit of a struggle, but he is all right.”

“Excellent! Good work done. I have the suitcase right here. I was trusting you’d get the job done. I shall be at your place by 7am tomorrow.”

“Thank you sir… um, about execution. Are you sure you don’t need it done now? I wouldn’t want to waste your time…”

“That’s a non-negotiable, please. If you have to sedate him or something like that, you can do that. But do not kill him until I get there and inspect him for myself.”

“I could take a picture for you and…”

“Kind sir, like I said, I do my business differently. I made it clear that this is how I want it. Do you want us to successfully and affably conclude this transaction or not?”

The doctor sighed over the phone. He had met a few tough customer, but this man was something else. Clearly a lover of money, and one controlling man. “Yes, Mr. Nathan, I want it completed. I’ll order my men to hold on until you arrive. Probably have him knocked out before you come.”

“Perfect. I will see you tomorrow. Good night.”

*                                   *                             *                            *

6:30 am, and Joe had barely slept a wink. Remaining in a sitting position for more than 6 hours was definitely nowhere near comfortable, and at this point, movement felt so painful, with the rope starting to cut into his flesh. It felt like death row at that point: knowing he was going to die, but having no idea when.

As his eyelids fluttered a bit, the sound of a key turning in the lock revived him, and he looked in snide contempt as the two thugs who accosted him at the van walked briskly towards him.

“You pathetic bastards!” he spat in disgust as they moved closer.

Their response was to send him back to sleep, as they both delivered devastating Tyson jabs to his face.

*                                   *                                       *                                  *

Thirty minutes later, one of them, hearing the knock on the front door, walked up to it and opened it to meet Nathan, dressed in a business suit, a hat, and a briefcase in his right hand. “I’m here for the albino parts,” he announced in a rather arrogant tone of voice. The thug, obviously unamused by this, nodded with a blank expression on his face and signaled him to come in. As he did, the thug asked him, using his hands, to put down the briefcase and put his hands up, so he could be searched. After the searching process, he was beckoned to enter the room where the victim was.

After knocking, Nathan opened the door to find the witchdoctor, the second thug wielding a knife, and a shirtless Joe laid out on the floor in there.

“Oh yes, Mr. Nathan, good to have you here. It is clear you are a man of your word,” the witchdoctor said enthusiastically.

“Of course I am!” Nathan responded, almost scornfully as he tossed the briefcase at the other thug, who caught it. “You can count the money in there. Six thousand dollars.”

The witchdoctor nodded. “Great. Now you can observe the sacrifice.”

Nathan then walked nearer to Joe, still unconscious. “Mmmm… no black spots on the face, I see. Good, good…”

For the next few minutes, the witchdoctor and his servant waited, with tints of impatience, as their difficult customer did what seemed like a full body check.

After lifting the victim’s right leg, he stood up, pulled out a small piece of paper and a pen, and put down some notes, after which he handed it to the witchdoctor, who smiled and shook his head as he looked at the content of the note. “You are certainly one of a kind, Mr. Nathan.”

“I know,” he responded smugly. “Trust me, I know.”

The witchdoctor quickly signaled to the servant, who had just rolled his eyes at Nathan’s statement, and made a throat-slitting sign. The servant immediately stood up and nodded.

Just then, there were weird sounds coming from outside the room. The witchdoctor immediately perked up. “What’s that?”

Nathan seemed unperturbed. “What’s what? I don’t hear anything.”

Then came the sound of wood being crashed through. All three inhabitants in the room jumped at that.

“Go outside and find out what it is!” the witchdoctor yelled at his thug, who quickly and silently obliged, quickly rushing to the door and opening it to find out what was going on.

As the witchdoctor and Nathan peered out of the door, they saw a plethora of armed SWAT forces starting to swarm in. The thug didn’t go too far before yielding to the orders of one officer to kneel and put his hands behind his head.

“FREEZE! HANDS UP! DON’T MOVE!” the one in front of the other officers yelled to the two.

A look of bewilderment on his face, the witchdoctor put his hands up, absolutely stunned. “But how did this happen? How did you know about this?” he hysterically asked, terrified at the sight of those guns pointed directly at him.

As one of them walked over to him and cuffed him as they recited the regular rhetoric, he was stunned to notice that none of them went to Nathan. The guy didn’t even have his hands up.

Nathan suddenly raised his voice. “Dear forces, this is the place where greed and wickedness rules. Much to the extent that people as callous and evil as him,” pointing to the witchdoctor, “are willing to shed innocent blood just because of some stupid beliefs that don’t even exist.”

Incredulous at the reality that he had fallen victim to an undercover operation, his jaw dropped open. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…” the officer behind him continued as he struggled for words.

“Take him and his servants away. Let me find Joe and see if he’s awake,” Nathan said.

The witchdoctor’s eyes grew wide. “Wait a minute,” he started as the officer started to lead him away. “You mean you know the albino, and you both set us up? I can’t believe this! How dare you!”

Nathan hardly paid him any attention as he and his first goon were taken outside, with the second one already cuffed and in the waiting car. Walking back into the room with two other officers, he checked to see if Joe had regained consciousness. It took them a few minutes to revive him, but once he awoke, he sighed with relief and smiled as he saw the familiar faces.

“You guys made it! Thank God. Those bastards are like some iron human beings! Ugh! I still feel the pain in my nose,” he said, touching the tip of his nose and wincing.

“Sorry, Joe. I’m sure it does. But at least we came through. Now we can deal with these monsters and bring awareness to the troubles your kind go through. You did a good job!”

Sitting up, Joe grinned and saluted. “Yes, sir! Couldn’t be more grateful for the opportunity. It’s tiring living in fear of being used for some senseless sacrifice. The time to take action against these atrocities starts now.”


I’ve been off the blogosphere for a long time, and I’ll be back right after exams is done, but in the meantime, I just need to do something important: give honour where it’s due…

So six decades ago, this world was blessed with a gift. In spite of a pretty wild beginning, there’s only one word to describe the kind of impact this man has had on the body of Christ, and the world at large.


If I’m to go by the date on my membership certificate, I will have been a member of Action Chapel for 5 years at the end of December. And there are zero regrets about it. It’s been a major blessing being under the leadership of Archbishop Nicholas Duncan-Williams.

That is a great man of God right there!!

This is not a servant of God who paints a rosy, thorn-free life as a believer. This is a man who has been through hell and high waters, and still remains strong in the Lord. A walking testimony of the grace of God that surpasses our mental faculties.

I’ve seen this great man of God display a love for the less privileged that is simply beautiful. From the recovering drug addict to the widow, his heart towards them is something else.

I’ve seen the passionate warrior in him that makes him known as the Apostle of Strategic Prayer. Thanks to him, many of us understand that this life we live is a defeated one if prayer is neglected. His desire to raise a generation of end-time spiritual commandos is one that is undoubtedly bearing fruit, and posterity shall surely speak well of him.

Many of his quotes are permanently impressed upon my memory. Thanks to him, I know not to seek to be blessed, but to be a blessing. I understand that as far as this life is concerned, I am a steward of everything and a possessor of nothing. That love goes well beyond what you say, but what you do. That it is in my DNA to show compassion to others, for the simple reason that our Heavenly Father is compassionate.

Among the many reasons I adore this man, is his authenticity. He is as real as it gets. Sometimes, some Christians tend to make you wonder if being saved stripped them of every iota of their humanity. Not with Papa. He’s as open about his struggles as need be. It’s one thing that makes me appreciate him the more, knowing this is no superman, but an instrument of mercy. His style of saying to the congregation, ‘I know you’re all angels, but as for me, I’m….’ is honestly starting to rub off on me. Don’t be surprised to hear me saying that to a group of people one day.

Underestimate his sense of humour at your own peril. He recently told the congregation about his love for shito. Now that is a man’s man right there! Hehe…

He’s impacted me such that I personally seek to be an artist that wants long-lasting impact over superficial impact. His apathy towards the applause of man is something I rate so highly, which is understandable considering he’s been maligned, misrepresented and unfairly spat at over the years, from young and old. A walking lesson to not expect love from all sides. It’s people like him that Sho Baraka was talking about in Profhet, 1968…

They only throw stones at trees that bear fruits
So don’t be shocked when the mob attempts to throw stones at you

He’s constantly made it clear how much of a waste it is to constantly explain yourself. So if you’ve ever heard my poem Explaining Myself, just know that Papa was a major influence.

Speaking of which, it’s a totally undisputed fact that the group I’m in owes him a lot. ThroneRoom Perspective got that name because of him. A staple of his prayer language. The group you know would not have existed if it wasn’t for his obedience to the call. I doubt the idea of spoken word would have even crossed our minds, to begin with.

I’ve never spoken to him personally (even though he did once pass by a TRP meeting), but my most enduring memory of interaction with him was 3 years ago, when alongside Kobby Korankye, Ralph Egan and Paul Folivi, I got to do a memorable birthday. Doesn’t get more memorable than ‘mimicking’ his override and overturn prayer style, and ending off with the timeless ‘He who lived, died, laid in the grave and arose triumphant on the 3rd day’ in vintage Archbishop style.

All that to say, Papa is one of a kind. A one-in-a-billion general. He’s a man who by the world’s standards doesn’t deserve to amount to much, but sits with presidents and world leaders because of the God that called him out of darkness into His marvellous light to show forth His praises. If there’s any leader worthy of double honour, it is him. Millions the world over have been deeply impacted because of his willingness to be used by God.

So, to Archbishop Nicholas Duncan-Williams, the Papa to millions, myself included, I say: the happiest of birthdays to you! God is nowhere near done with you! Greater levels and dimensions await you! I eagerly look forward to many more years under your leadership. Guaranteed, my children will come to know and appreciate the servant of God I hugely love and admire. God bless you beyond your wildest imaginations, Sir!

And in line with one of Firm Foundation’s major loved songs, dear Papa, get ready for the best days of your life! Coz what God is about to do is gonna blow your mind!!!



As I share this with you, kindly be informed that somtin dey the pipeline inside! Yep.  The SW community has been up to quite a lot so far this year, and expect Qwamenah to be in the mix. The proper announcement should be out by May (My exam timetable is quite liberal this time round, so I should be able to let it out).

Okay, enough talking from me! Here it is…

Severed umbilical cords. Hollow souls crying for a filling.

Calibrated mindsets that choose fading pleasures.

The sorry state of the human race.

Blinded by deception, many saunter towards the fiery bin,

Setting themselves up for a date with rage that cannot be contained.

Driven by selfish ambition and lust, their tanks filled up to the brim on pride,

Speeding straight into the dark tunnel ahead of them, backs turned to the light,

Regardless of the gender, they betroth themselves to become the devil’s missus,

Veils placed over their eyes as they’re led by demons down the aisle to prepare for an eternity of being smothered by hell’s kisses.

A fate that is worse than death.

So we speak of the trapdoor that has been set, the Loophole by which they can escape,

The Ark that they must seek refuge in while there is still free passage through its gates,

We speak of how they can be situated on solid ground with no cracks, hooked on the Fisher of man’s heart,

Urging them to step off the thin ice on which they joyfully take their path,

Before it breaks up and drops them in the middle of pure pain with no comfort in sight,

We stay focused, hand grenades of grace bombarding the kingdom of the cruellest,

Victory the beautiful pearl that caresses our palm lines, we know we’re never losing,

Spreading seeds of joy and hope, heeding the All-important mission to go,

And give the world that info that’ll makes lost souls exchange rags for robes soaked in crimson flow,

We are the bearers of Good News.

Telling all that despite the sin debt we have accrued, deserving of punishment and curses,

Jesus defeated the grave, humiliated Hades and flattened the head of the serpent,

And so there is redemption from the pitiful second death at a 100% discount, absolutely priceless!

And we warn them that without the Lamb as their Lawyer on the final day, they will be a lost cause that’s totally indefensible,

Sentenced to eternal torment, tortured by torrents of sulphur and flames.

We give them the news in love and intercede that the Spirit may move,

For only He can awaken them to their needy state and keep their hands off the snooze.

And we?… we continue to bear the Good News, yielding ourselves as His tools and receptacles,

Letting the world know that without new birth in Christ, the kingdom of God is simply inaccessible.

Books Read (Jan-Feb)

So I was on a good reading spree towards the end of 2016, and I made it my intention to not slow down in 2017. So I put up 19 as my number for the Reading Challenge. In spite of how loaded my schedule tends to be (and it’s gonna get even more intense within the next few months), I’ve managed to read four books so far.

Okay, I’ve completed three of them, and I’m on the fourth one.

So, this is just a review of those books so far…

GREY MOUNTAIN – John Grisham

So this was a book I was reading at the end of 2016, and laziness set in to make me put it somewhere. Thank God I got back to it.

Well, when it comes to Grisham novels, there’s pretty much a lot that I expect, and I wasn’t disappointed. The beginning was quite slow, but it picked up momentum later on. Thanks to him, you’ll get to know that being a lawyer isn’t always glamorous and all, but there’s a lot of ugliness under the covers. This was so magnified, in a story about wrecking the environment for personal gain, even at the expense of human life. The whole strip-mining business, and the clear deception and love for money that was evident really ruffled me. Companies that would rather let their activities cause people to get cancer and pay off cheap claims than fix the mess and prevent it from happening altogether. Smh. It was a fierce world in there, and it was a reminder to me that this legal world is not a pretty one, but service over comfort is the way to go, and that should be a mantra of the Christian, no matter where you find yourself.


I’ve had a heart for seeing the restoration of biblical manhood in my generation, and this is a book worth reading for people like me. Dr. Mason gave an outlook of how the Ultimate Man, Jesus Christ, was like on earth, and the need for us to follow His ways. He also pointed out how men submitted to Christ can have a solid impact on families and communities.

I liked the chapter on restored sexuality. Emphasis on not just the fact that sex is a gift that is meant for marriage alone, but that it is to be enjoyed! That was just a reminder to me that the religious mindset that demonizes sex is losing its grip. But as a whole, it was a good read, even though at the latter part, I felt like he was being slightly too man-focused. Something he acknowledged in his conclusion, stating that he’s seen so much of a lack of real manhood in his communities, that it pushes him that far. Well, I’m not gonna complain.


We’ve heard about this great son of the motherland, but honestly, we haven’t heard enough. I’m sure all that comes to mind about him is the ‘educate a woman, educate a nation’ statement. So I decided to get to know a little more.

This is an okay book to start with, considering it was written for the youth. It tells a lot about Kwegyir’s life, from his intelligent father’s influence, his days as a teacher (apparently, he loved being verbose from time to time) and when he went out of the country and had diverse experiences, including discrimination and all, as well as him becoming a theologian and a public speaker. It’s unfortunate how the book notes that most of his speeches were lost to posterity. We really could have done with a lot of those. Good read, but I’d definitely want more info. Anyways…

WHILE THE WORLD WATCHED – Carolyn Maull McKinstry (Currently reading)

Seems appropriate to close out Black History Month with this. So I’ve heard about the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church bombing in Birmingham, Alabama in 1963, which killed four innocent girls, and this book is an account of that awful tragedy from one girl who could have been an additional victim. I’m pretty sure I’ll finish it by the end of this week, coz it’s one of those books that gets me hooked, with all the Civil Rights history. One question I keep asking myself as I read: What at all was it that made white people so hateful towards blacks?

So, that’s my progress with the Goodreads Reading Challenge so far. Definitely getting somewhere. And as I end this, my advice as usual: sometimes, turn off your laptops with all the series and movies and all, and pick up a book and read!!!

Glacial, Deadpan, Stony

Glacial gazes. Deadpan demeanours. Stony souls.

I look around Me, and My heart is filled with grief,

At how the top hierarchy in this place of worship operate in an atmosphere that is lacking in one major thing.


Man was intricately created, crafted and composed to be a recipient and a giver of this good gift,

Seeing every like-structured being as deserving of agape affection,

But these ones have been affected by the indwelling lust and greed,

Lanterns lit up by the fiery need to appear as all-knowing, high and mighty.

Living for quick shots of superbia and rolled up joints of self-exaltation while blowing down disdain on those who aren’t as high as them.

And I am upset.

Grief rushes through my valves as I observe the frigidity around me.

Hearts turned to stone by virtue of the abuse of what was written on stones,

Playing perfect lip games while nursing iniquity within, yet scornful of the equally corrupted sinner on the street because of the appearances they keep up,

Those laws they grip so tightly to are the prologue to the greatest story of all time, but they’ve lost the plot,

Misplaced expectations,

They’ve chosen exterior obeisance as their settlement and revel in its deception,

Making oral traditions the red rose they tenderly cradle with care, while their noses go sky high upon seeing the other people.

They don’t love the people. They just love themselves. Taking Justin’s advice way too far.

Drooling in their daydreams over seating arrangements and titles,

Aroused by the thought of distinctive prayer shawls and salutations of respect,

The good life of fame and recognition is the deity they faithfully dedicate themselves to, and it grieves me.

Watching them engage in a series of pious actions, and with each episode comes the pressing nausea waves that pound their fists against my stomach,

It is sickening.

They’re gleaming crypts with rotten bowels, substituting Soli Deo Gloria for man’s praise,

To be seen as the loyal and faithful servant he actually isn’t is the reason the rabbi Baruch for example stands in public and prays,

A cold-blooded wolf at heart, fangs ever dripping red as he lurks around town and preys on widows and their inheritance,

It bothers me.

And as I stand here, with this man with a withered hand standing in front of me,

I place before them two options: taking a life on the Sabbath, or saving a life on the Sabbath.

The icy silence tells it all.

Hearts skip beats at the thought of keeping the Six Commandment, yet stay set against breaking the Fourth,

As if man was made for the Sabbath when the truth here is dyslexic.

Knowledge puffs up, but love edifies.

I look around me, and I am grieved at the sight of men so in love with their worded traditions that they neglect the downtrodden and needy as if weakness equals reductions of Imago Dei in their DNA when it’s crystal clear that all in Our glorious image and likeness were equally made.

And it grieves me that to this day, there are still so many of such in My body.

Negligence, Night Girls & Druggies

So this is my first post of 2017! Extremely late, I know. I’ve been so busy with exam preparations (this is my last year before I get the LLB, God willing), that so many other plans have had to take the backseat. I’ll do what I can to get back on track…

Anyway, just to mention: I should get to work on a new series soon, and I’ll be putting up stuff about what’s going on the GH spoken word fraternity. I did make it an intention to pay a lot of attention to the audio side. And that doesn’t go without mentioning that my album will be out later this year!! I’ll soon let y’all know the name…

In the meantime, I went through my old email and found posts from my older blogs (which I deleted at some point. Twas a painful process, but it had to be done), and I thought I might as well start off with a blast from the past…

The kind-hearted policeman and his wife, both seated together on the couch, looked at the two young people in front of them.

Robert and his sister, Alice. The two of them looked dirty, sullen and as unhappy as children who had been told they couldn’t eat chocolate for the rest of their lives. Sitting right in front of the law officer and his better half certainly didn’t make them the least bit comfortable.

This policeman wasn’t looking to have them thrown into prison, though. Having observed them for quite a while, and despite seeing that they were deviating from society’s accepted attitude of people their age, he could tell the problem lay skin-deep.

Robert was a serious drug user; from ‘wee’ to heroine, he had used them all and was still using them religiously. Alice was slightly worse; she not only used them as well, she also sold her body on a regular basis. Through all this, the policeman could tell certain conditions had pushed these two youngsters into living such wretched lives. So he had tried to befriend them, which took quite a long time, and gain their trust before delving into the root cause of their problems. He had decided not to let them know of his profession, lest they think he was leading them into being apprehended.

So there they sat before him and his wife, unaware that he was a policeman, and unsurprisingly edgy. They hadn’t taken their daily dosage, and looked extremely eager to leave and inject themselves with the harmful substances.

The cop asked them only one question at that point, however, to get them talking. “How was your family like?”

The siblings looked at each other for a moment, then said in unison, “Terrible.”

Alice patted her brother on the knee to signal she was going to do the talking. Then, with a deep breath and a few twitches, she started.

Robert and Alice had been born into a home of affluence, power and comfort. Their father was a highly successful businessman in charge of an insurance company twice declared the best company in the nation. Their mother was in charge of a local restaurant which often averaged about five thousand visitors in a single week. Indeed, they had been born into a very wealthy family, and need and want was nothing one would hear from the lips of the two youngsters, for they were given everything a child could need at the tender stages of his or her life. Toys, games, you name it, they had it all.

There was one thing they did lack, however. One thing that surpassed all the others.

Love and attention.

Because of how busy their parents were with their work, they rarely saw them for more than two hours in a day. They both left the house very early, usually before the children woke up, and came home late after they had been put to bed. The few times they managed to have the children awake when they were around, they didn’t really give them the attention they craved for. Alice was the one affected the most by all this, and it reflected as she grew up.

She had no qualms about talking back to either parent, thus causing a serious rift between them. Her nasty relations with them turned to cause serious problems between the two of them as well. It led to a very unpleasant divorce, which split up the family badly. Custody of the two was granted to their mother, much to the consternation of their father, who felt he would do a better job bringing them up.

Eventually, after a long, protracted legal battle, they were able to share custody of Robert and Alice. But that only tended to worsen the case of the two young children.

With their mother, they had a little fun with her, as she took them out from time to time. But that was it. Her restaurant business growing ever bigger, she had little time for them. Same story as far as their dad was concerned.

So their parents never knew of the type of friends they had in school. And that was unfortunate, because they both fell into bad company. From the junior secondary school up to the second-cycle institution, Robert had friends that were into drugs and being bad, as did his sister, whose friends were also into sleeping with boys indiscriminately.

The policeman had winced as they recounted the negligence of their parents. He could never imagine himself ignoring his own children like that. But that was just the tip of the iceberg, as Robert began to speak of how deep they had gone into the drug trade.

His first taste of illegal drugs came in secondary school, and as one would expect, it was Indian hemp he used. Ever since, he had become so addicted to it, and had even tried out others, leading him to do so many horrid things.

After dropping out in his final year, he hadn’t returned home, and strayed mainly on the streets. He had witnessed two young men die just after experimenting with the crack form of cocaine. His best friend, in a bid to stop, had died as a result of the withdrawal symptoms. Due to all this, he was hesitant to end his addiction. He was so hooked, he had sold practically all his clothes, gadgets and personal stuff just to keep taking in that stuff. He mentioned conning so many people into giving him money. He even confessed to breaking into one expensive car and stealing GH¢4,000, just to spend it all on drugs.

Alice’s story was much more horrifying.

After being introduced to the trade, she had also deteriorated badly, turning into a prostitute. It was through one of her many ‘business patrols’ that she bumped into her brother. They had never had that sibling rivalry, but as they got together, drugs induced a serious, unfriendly and occasionally violent one between them. She told them that drugs was the only reason she was a prostitute. Sometimes, when customers were hard to come by, she confessed to even having sexual relations with other animals in order to get paid by those who would film the repulsive act.

The policeman was on the verge of nausea by the time they had both told their stories.

Sitting in front of he and his wife were two drug addicts, ruined by the illicit substances. Thanks to negligence, they had been wrecked completely by drugs. The simple love and care they had required from their parents had been cruelly denied them, pushing them into this horrible. As he sat there trying to remove the disgusting image of Alice being humped by a horse, the young, dirty, emaciated girl spoke up.

“I hate this life of mine. I wanna change. I wanna be a normal girl,” she confessed, tears running down her cheeks. She looked miserable, truly unhappy with the type of life she was living. Her brother murmured, “Me too. I just wanna live a normal life.” He then reached out and put his arm around his sobbing sister.

It was a sad sight, seeing the two of them in such a sorrowful state. The policeman looked at his wife, who was close to tears, and shook his head. It was no coincidence that he had chanced upon these two youngsters. It was meant for him to meet them, and his duty to get them out of this rut. His wife, who happened to be a seasoned counselor in her church, patted his knee, signaling her readiness for the new task at hand.

It was long, hard and very painful process. The withdrawal symptoms had a horrible effect on them. The prayers for them were fervent and numerous. But eventually, this policeman and his wife helped get Robert and Alice get out of drugs. Robert went on to become a successful architect, while Alice became a well-known and powerful woman of God. Both got married and had lovely children, but remembered the way they had been neglected as kids, and gave their children all the affection they could give them. And throughout their lives, they never forgot the kind policeman, who helped them out of the nasty life drug abuse had pushed them into.

Another Year Coming To An End

A few minutes to the end of 2016!!

It’s been a highly memorable year for me. With its highs and lows.

I remember the week on which my birthday fell. One of the worst weeks I’ve ever experienced. Things happened which are engraved in my brain, but the repercussions didn’t go overboard as they had threatened to. I’m so thankful to God for that.

My academics took quite a nosedive. For the first time, I sat in a church service and felt totally discouraged by all the testimonies given. People were talking about how they had struggled and yet had good grades, and there I was with a nasty report card. Hmmm, it was tough.

These are a few lows, but I’m glad to say that the highs outweigh them by far.

I had a number of great experiences throughout the year. Most of which included the whole spoken word thingy.

For one, I found myself on radio for the first time in January. Pluzz FM. It was a great time with the TRP peeps as we shared our stuff.

Then I remember the Rainmakers event I attended in February. Not many people were around, but the ambience was top-notch, and I have reason to believe that helped me get connected to many within the fraternity.

Basically, with TRP, we showed up at many events, but the ones that really stick out are the Casual Sunday service at Firm Foundation’s 1st anniversary (it was absolutely awesome!), our appearance at the Citi Voice Factory (it’s still interesting how it started to rain and we made it through, and as a result, I became an avid listener of Citi CBS!) and the Poetrybank event (that was undoubtedly one of my best performances since I ever started doing this craft). It’s been a memorable year for the team. Add to that, the successful release of our EP.

This year, I met a lot of new people, and I’m glad I did. All great people in their own ways. The stand-out peeps are…

Philipa! The new member of TRP. She joined us in July, and it’s been fun knowing her ever since. You have no idea how fun it is teasing her!

Nana Araba! This young lady was my invigilator during my exams, and afterwards, I got to know her personally. Another memorable entry into my life!

Oh, and of course, my month-and-a-half internship at Fugar and Company introduced me to other peeps. Well, I might just say, ladies. Kuukua, Rachel, Akua Agyimaa, Divine, Wendy and Rama, it was great knowing y’all!!!

So, that internship was insightful. I got to go to the Court Complex and see how things are for the people in the legal profession. I even got the chance to go to the Supreme Court. I saw Justice Atuguba for myself!!! Yieyieeeee!!!

OK, so what else was there to remember?

Hmmm, those who didn’t make it. One sweet friend of mine, Phoebe, lost her mum in the course of the year. At church, one homie nicknamed Blackboi tragically passed. The Chapecoense incident was depressing, as well as the numerous terrorist attacks that went on. On this note, I believe we should all be thankful as Ghanaians that the target that had been placed on us was averted. Only His grace.

As far as world news is concerned, I guess the major things that come to mind are the elections of USA and Ghana. Donald Trump won the presidency!!! I really didn’t think it would happen, but it did. And after 8 years of taking Ls at the polls, Nana Addo Dankwa Akufo-Addo is finally gonna be the president of GH. Interesting times ahead.

This was a very quiet year for me with regards to relationships. Nothing really came up. So I can keep my expectations where they are for 2017.

By the way, the ‘Start Over’ series I did in June was a big success!! I thank all my readers for patronizing it.

I guess my thoughts are quite jumbled, but as a whole, I’m very grateful for how God has been good to me in 2016. I wouldn’t have made it through without Him. I know that 2017 is in His hands. Let Him lead.

A guy with the gift of using words. Forever indebted to the One who gave him that gift.

Hondred Percent

Poet Rapper


For the love of words. For the power of voice.

Jay Kophy's Blog

I won't stop writing until I get Oboadee (the creator) nodding on His throne

Qwamenah's Space

Where my faith in Christ is boldly put on display

They Say's Blog

Randomly weird and Weirdly random.


Poetry * Soul * Story * Music * Word Therapy * Art

Random African Thoughts.

"Real-life fiction and beyond!"

Grey Mural

Musings of a heart that is imperfect by default but glorious in hope


my views on things and how I perceive them...