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You asked for it

I don't want to say anything. Why? Because you'll react in one of two ways: You'll either get mad and stop talking to me, or worse, you'll disregard what I'm saying completely and tell me I still don't understand. Which, let me tell you, really makes me mad. Because I have heard that over and over, and all other times than this one I have understood why it was being said; because they had no choice but to assume that I wouldn't understand, because I had not let them see enough of me to know that in fact I would. But you? I've shown you enough to think that maybe you would see, enough that I had some sort of hope that you would see that I, in fact, was not some emotionless black hole incapable of understanding. But you don't see it. And it makes me mad that it's like wasted effort, like I struggled so hard to paint the most honest picture of myself only to realise you're blind. You think that it's some explanation? " I'm heartbroken,you wouldn't understand." Because I don't mope, is that it? Because I never whine about love and heartbreak and how terrible and epic it all is. Because I don't tell you about times when I've cried or spent hours gaining some satisfaction from recounting the story of my "lost love." But what makes me maddest is how little you seem to esteem the thing you seem so broken by. You somehow believe that loving her equates to being with her; that somehow not being there for her the way you wanted was equal to having lost that love, like that was what matters. Popular thinking maybe, but it's wrong. Because that's selfish. Expecting that someone should be with you because you love them is selfish.  And selfishness, among many others is one of the antonyms of love. You think I don't understand because you think I never loved anyone I couldn't be with. I did. I do. But unlike you I believe that loving that person in itself is enough; that it isn't a means to an end, but an end in itself. Because I see love for what it is: the privilege of being responsible for that person. I'm lucky to love him not because he loves me back, or because of anything he feels or does for me, but simply because it is such an amazing, rare thing to love another human being. A pure, holy thing; the closest to heaven on earth. And so then it could never break me, because it doesn't matter what happens, I have decided to love him. You feel this complex, emotional roller coaster, and just when you begin to not you hurl yourself back in, convinced that your love somehow will get you want you want, that "love conquers all". It does. All including you, and all you want. It is complete in itself. So you tell me I don't know what it's like, but really you don't know what you're saying, because those feelings, while they might be the precursor to love, as it was with me, they are not love. So either suck it up or find another name to call your romantic misadventure because I refuse to let you insult love by comparing what you're feeling to it. It's much too important to me.

Story By: Maame Yaa Acheampong ( @Sarcasm_Hands)

REPUMANIA

It is considered the grandest stage of all on tertiary basis. Actually the climax of everything entertainment even if that sounds a bit offhand but yeah, a case could be argued and won with valid facts. Think of it as a miniature wrestlemania without the accompanying pseudo-violence and a significantly lesser attendance. It is a

mere week like no other, just another seven days but don’t be deceived for there is more than meets the eye during this period. Let your imaginations take a short trip and you may begin to piece together the portrait I’m painting albeit without a brush mind you. (I love my quill). Yup! This is basically about R E P U M A N I A. The first four letters have grabbed your attention already.

Depending on how you view it, this is a time many want to be ‘great’. The repu newbies will be seeking to have a feel of it first time like a virgin maiden’s first time at you-know-what. The veterans would be seeking to

consolidate their victories and redeem losses and hope to sign off on the best possible note. It is redemption time especially if you’ve played a zero throughout your stay in Uni, there is no grander occasion than this to bury haunting demons and finally get some points on board.

A curious scenario usually plays out around this time. Usually it’s a hattrick of parties (what’s likely to be the case this time as well) that grabs the most attention. But usually unseen battles lines are drawn when two parties are set to happen on one night. Consider it like this, two rams about to lock horns with obviously only one winner. Sure in such cases, both could thrive but the purveyors of evil hiding in shadows would rather one ‘papped’ for the other to hopelessly flop in which case it would be a massive field day on 140 Character Street aka Twitter. Re: Acid Trip versus Dusk 3. *Pontius Pilate hand wash*. But it is worthy of note to mention the fact that Repu mostly thrives because of the plethora of parties that rush in like a raging flood around this time. And then again, these parties are not for the faint at heart. 2 or 3 straight nights out partying certainly can’t be a joke. I have no experience I must place on record.

  Spare a thought for the would be ‘perchers’ whiles you are

about having fun. Certainly, it’s an open secret people would troop in and end up sleeping in unspeakable places just because of Repu. Of course, the fun that you would have is worth it they would say. Spare yet another thought for the various girlfriends who would find out they aren’t their boyfriend’s girlfriends because that other girl has arrived. Plainly put, some of you ladies are going to learn your place on your supposed boyfriends’ relationship hierarchy. Who knows? You may be lucky enough to be an assistant girlfriend which is definitely better than getting the rude awakening that your boyfriend doesn’t even consider you his girlfriend at all. How sad! Same goes for the guys too. Then also say a prayer for the

various pockets that would have craters in them after repu. Chill hard at repu and remember to ‘hung’ hard after too... Maybe. And for that boy or girl who bought a stand for almost 300 cedis and is still not making even a quarter of sales, may the Lord be your strength. It is all part of REPUMANIA. Happy Hall Week!

                                                            .

ST. VALENTINE’S DAY BLUES.

That time of the year has reared its head again. The midpoint of the calendar’s youngest month. It’s February and it is the 14^th day. This is St. Valentine’s Day. Usually considered a time to ‘express love and show affection’. That’s the general consensus and that’s also what the vast majority believe in. I wouldn’t know because for one thing, I haven’t had a valentine in my two decades on God’s green earth. Well this is Kwame Nkrumah’s Ghana, (Mahama is doing a ‘good job’ or? *coughs*) and it’s a different ball game. For most, it pits the financial muscle of lovers against the spending ability of their partners. So you could say one’s financial muscle is directly proportional to his partner’s ability and it really doesn’t need a math genius to prove its basis. So for someone whose partner has a pretty ravenous appetite or a seemingly unquenchable thirst for gifts either in cash or in kind, you wouldn’t particularly be smiling when Valentine’s Day comes around especially when things aren’t looking up in your pocket.

But of course you have to ‘pay’ during this period, for some that’s

the key to the unlimited access to the ‘forbidden fruit’. Cliché but truth. Val’s day is a high octane game where someone most definitely becomes the prey and the other the predator. There is absolutely no middle ground. I used to think it was a myth that some guys intentionally picked up fights with their partners when February came around and looked to swiftly make amends when the storm had calmed down. Smartness or cowardice? I can’t tell. But even with that partner that is deemed to be at fault would readily swallow her pride and apologize even sometimes going extreme to show they are sorry. It’s an art of war and foul or fair means aren’t bound by any rules plus any strategy goes. Then some others manage to perfect the art of vanishing to utmost perfection so much such that Potter’s cloak has nothing on them. Then watch some ladies become unavailable to that one guy who takes two ‘trotros’ to work and say to other one with the Mercedes “oh I’m free on the 14^th.” It’s like that and also watch them casually drop subtle hints about what they want days to Val’s day like “This watch is old oo” or “See how this phone is giving me trouble.” A carefully-calculated way to let you know what she wants.

Some decide to brave the storm and be the men they profess to be. You know that guy that takes a salary advance to buy an iPhone 5s complete with all its accessories for his love, the girl returns the favour… He will be back to meet a nicely wrapped parcel at the feet of his bed. Hopes raised higher than Ronaldo’s jump and he’ll open it to see one ‘chase deer’ singlet and a boxer shorts in his favourite team’s colours. A lone tear streaks down his face for reasons known to him alone and mind you, it isn’t tears of joy. Then the other guy who takes a loan with atrocious interest rates to impress that girl he so dearly ‘loves’. He takes her on a candlelit dinner worth four figures in cedis. He too comes back to eagerly open the gift she got him. In the deceptively large parcel lies a pack of handkerchiefs and ‘kiwi’ shoe polish, that’s his four figure dinner reciprocated and it’s the girl’s way of expressing affection so can he complain? I have no gavel in my hands. I can’t judge.

That’s just few of the possible scenarios that play out during Val’s day and surely are bound to happen this time around as well. The single ones like myself would surely seek to pick a few lessons or two from whatever drama ensues. But then again, it’s Valentine’s Day and true love would be seen amidst the fake ones that would be on display that day as well. No matter what happens as well, there will be the group that will try to bash those who seek to express joy on that day. I can’t wrap my head around that but then doesn’t one of Newton’s laws state something about action and its opposite reaction? Do the math. We only stand to observe.

                                   HAPPY VAL’S DAY

@Mr_Labyrinth

FUN-TUH-SEE

My heart screams I love you
Yet hermitically are my lips sewn in silence
That defeaning silence
Which pierces my soul
And chokes my breath
I long to hold your hand
But the chains of doubt keep me aloof
That enchanting smile of yours
That innocent gaze you fix upon me
Your laughter resounds with a royal melody
Your strides strike the chords of an unsung harmony
Yet to me all this be but a pleasurable fantasy
For mine is a heart that has known scorn
Mine is a heart that has danced to sorrowful tunes
Yes mine is a heart that has known pain
Do you tease me with the promise of love still ?
If this be love and you feel it too
Then let us hurry about this business
If not leave me be in my fantasy
For though I dread its end
I cant seem to let go
So I pray my Lord my eyes do open
The truth help me see
Else am lost in that which I cannot name
I think it's love...or is it?..
Merely fun-to-see...
       Poem by Kharie Pee
              (@Quophey)

KING SIZED BED

In the beginning was a Father's heart broken
A son and a daughter's defiance
Severed a gloriously knitted token
Sin glorified and honoured with compliance
 
Clad in our coats of many colours
Different shades of iniquity
Gulping from unrepentant gutters 
As the old serpent basked in diabolic felicity
 
From the roof of Heaven the Father cried
The harp of sorrow in His Spirit played
For man lived but died
The flesh he served and obeyed
 
For our souls many a lamb did bargain
None worthy enough to purchase on retail
But a kingly lamb offered to be slain
On a tree hung and pierced with the sinner's nail
 
So on that night when shepherds in a field lay
A baby cried on our behalf
That we may no longer be enslaved clay
And our souls freed to laugh
 
With the crown of salvation upon His head
Lay the royal Lamb in a manger
A glorious King Sized Bed
Emmanuel. A most welcome heavenly stranger.
                 
       Poem by Nana Prempeh.

YOUR AVERAGE KNUST GIRL

I wrote this piece way before the previous one “YOUR AVERAGE LEGON GIRL” but for some reason I decided to bring this later so here we go…

 ‘‘George, it’s 4am oo. Wake up. I hope you don’t want to miss the 6am class like you did last time’’ (You can also read that in Twi). That’s the text sent from a young lady’s phone, a Nokia X2 to be precise, to a male course mate of hers preceding a phone call to rouse the same guy from his sleep. She’s up early to prepare for the accursed 6am lecture which EVERY student hates. An hour and a half after that call was made our unknown lady steps out of her room in the direction of her faculty where the demonic lecture is set to take place.

Let’s check out her outfit for a bit shall we? She’s in a Lacoste top one which looks suspiciously like her hall’s shirt (special mention to that same sex hall named after a continent) and this is over a long skirt which virtually sweeps the floor with each step she takes. In other cases, it may be a T-shirt over some jeans which hang loosely around her legs. Her hair is tightly-knitted into a rigid pun on top of her head (Professor McGonagall style)… In some cases, it’s braided. There’s little or no makeup on her face except you count the blood-red lipstick across her lips and you can imagine the clash of colours in cases where she may happen to be pitch-black. So she makes it to the lecture hall with about 30 minutes to spare and promptly makes herself comfortably in one of the front seats and my guess is this one is probably facing the lecturer directly. She’s ready to absorb knowledge or so we assume since that’s the impression she puts across. The lecture starts and she’s seen busily jotting down points and paying rapt attention, that’s what we all seem to see till we notice her head nodding off once or twice and it strikes a chord that our mystery woman is dozing off in between the class. Oh well…..

Time flies and all too soon, the class ends. She rushes up to the lecturer to seek explanation of who knows what and rushes up to meet the T.A. and whispers something into his ears. She then comes back and packs up her stuff and is seen meeting with her group members, she is most likely to be the leader as well. All signs point to the fact she will be having group studies at the parade group that evening (she usually has group studies about four times a week). Right after this George comes up (remember him?) and she tells him “I want gorb3” in so hushed a tone you would think she didn’t want to disturb the dead. Is it because she doesn’t want anyone to know she will be consuming what is the land’s trademark food? Your guess is good as mine.

 So she heads off with the guy in the direction of the  Conti dining hall and there she gets her hands on the beans aka Gorb3 complete with an egg and plantain. She stashes it quickly in her strikingly large hand bag as if she’s afraid she will be found out by unseen forces. A few hours later, she’s found sitting in the library reading up on what she and her group members will discuss later that evening and deadly farts float pointedly around her circumference and no one will trace it to her as she swears she never eats flatulence-inducing foods such as gorb3. But in her room hidden away from the prying eyes of strangers is a timetable for lunch in which this same food she’s denying like Peter denied Jesus appears six out of seven times in a week! So much for the denial…

It’s a few minutes past 4pm and she heads out of the library towards the parade ground for studies. She’s still in her Lacoste top and the same skirt which is paying homage to Asaase Yaa. Group studies are done, the guys in the group take their leave but the young lady stays behind with some of her ‘paddies’ and the conversation is basically about ‘Ei! Did you see…?’ ‘Aha! Have you heard…?’ and it goes on and on till she remembers she has another meeting to attend. If it’s a midweek Wednesday, then she’s headed for a church service and that happens a lot every week which she never misses if she could.

So it’s night time and she’s heading back to her room to go and cook

something and boom! She meets a church friend who happens to be buying some ‘check-check’ right in front of her hostel and she doesn’t ‘lose guard’ at all and claims her share. On the usual days when she doesn’t meet guys like that, she is most likely most likely cooking jollof with crabs and yes! You read that right, crabs… (apologies to FOCUS FM Filla Show)

It’s a quarter to eleven on her watch and she’s chatting heartily with a boy in her room, her room mates are also doing same and at the same time she’s whatsapping a number of guys at the same time. Too much meat never spoilt the soup. Isn’t that what they say? A few minutes to midnight and all the guys are gone. She tucks herself into bed and puts her phone away. She’s waiting for sleep to come and drag her away. Can you take a shrewd guess of who our mystery lady is? No little bird has whispered anything to me this time but a wise old woman just told me I may have just opened a daily chapter of the life of AN AVERAGE KNUST GIRL…

NB: Most the conversations that took place above were in Twi embellished with a variety of proverbs and all so mind your Rs and Ls…

Also, a percentage of what transpired in here is probably shrouded in mystery… maybe. The truth is for you to decipher. Good Day.

YOUR AVERAGE LEGON GIRL

It’s 6am somewhere on the campus of University of Ghana and the place is Block B, Pent. Precise location? One of the 2-in-a-room residencies. Here in Legon, this is the fabled hub and heartbeat of everything that transpires in the nation’s premier university.

A young lady is just rising up from bed. In the usual or not too usual case, she’s probably feeling the after effects of having ‘’turned up’’ the previous night. The hangover is real. That Tequila-Vodka mixture never tasted sweeter, the wild dance moves and all the fun in the club might have been almost heaven on earth for her. Back to our mystery lady, she rubs her eyes and slowly rises from bed. Her ‘’chrife’’ roommate is on her bed having her quiet time after last night’s all night service. Our mystery lady drags herself up and trudges into the bathroom shuffling her feet loudly. She looks into the mirror and staring back at her is this red and puffy-eyed human being with the shadow of last night’s 16cm thick makeup still showing. First things first, she washes the makeup and the sink is instantly filled with what looks suspiciously like a watery rainbow mixture. So much for the light-skinned girl you met last night in the club because after that wash down now remains a female dark knight actually looking like 12:57am at midnight. 

Fast-forward to 8:30 AM, she’s done bathing and dressed up. But hey! The ruse is not complete yet. Short, skimpy skirt exposing some thighs, check. Pushups beneath a bright-coloured top pumping the breasts to the surface, check. The fashion cloak of deception is still not complete regardless of the 350GH Cedis worth of Brazilian hair covering up that dandruff-riddled scalp. A mixture of various assorted and expensive makeup is splashed unto her face and viola! Our ‘lightie’ is back. Ruse is complete. Time to head out . She steps out in her 8 inch heels, taking one step at a time, almost like a model. She’s in no hurry and EVERYTHING on her screams attention but isn’t that the point? Oh yeah, so she takes her step bit by bit and pulls her out Galaxy S4 (a supposed gift from some ‘uncle’ who is most likely to be a bank manager somewhere) and begins to text random male numbers. A few texts to the pizza boy (terrific Tuesday is coming up), another one to the ‘’oh-come-and-pick-me-up” guy and a couple more to the “hey-boo-do-you-have-the-latest-episode-of-vampire-diaries’’ guy and the list goes on and on… She has so many guys neck deep in the friend zone and they strangely don’t even seem to be aware. Some sort of magic trick? I for one thing wouldn’t know. I’ve never been zoned.

 Time check 10:23 AM, she’s done for the day. Her first class lasted only for an hour and the rest have been called off. You can imagine her joy (well most students are happy when that happens). The ‘’oh-come-and-pick-me-up’’ guy is always ready to give her a ride around. Brunch at Tickles and she places an order for lunch as well. Not a single penny from her purse is covering the cost and the whole thing is priced roughly around the 90GH Cedis region and this is even when she is in her mercy mood and doesn’t feel like eating much. Regardless of anything, someone, some guy will foot the bill. You may be thinking ‘’oh wow! What a lucky girl she is to having all that at her disposal without a cost!” But wait, the 3 packs of Fiesta condoms in her bag, what do you think is the use? Later that night in a room full of loud, banging music (pun intended) she will be paying her dues in kind in the ‘most amazing of ways\. I believe you catch my drift. That’s the sequence and it’s almost like a series that happens with her every time.

It’s now 5:16PM and our still unknown mystery girl is seen getting down from a sleek Range Rover with a man in the driver’s seat. “Oh that’s her dad’’ you might say until she plants a wet, deep and slippery kiss on the slightly balding man’s lips. That isn’t her dad, that’s ‘Supplier 3’ as saved among her contact list. One of the numerous sugar daddies she hangs around with. She walks away as the car speeds off in simultaneous fashion. She slides the newly-signed cheque in her bag and saunters off, hips swaying in spectacular fashion.

 

Dark scenes at the Pent car park, it’s 10:54 PM and she’s seen among a group of friends laughing and screaming loudly. Only God knows what is transpiring between them at this odd hour. They begin to pair off and leave one after the other and our mystery lady is not left out, she also pairs off with one guy and they head off in the direction of his room.  Music begins to blaze from the room disturbing all around and there can be only one answer to what is currently taking place in that room. A few hours later, she’s escorted out of the room by the guy who plants a peck on her and check and she whispers ‘’Thanks for the ‘blissful’ time. Next time yeah’’. She retires to her room, worn-out and tired. Her roomie is lying on her bed reading her handouts. Our mystery lady collapses unto her bed in a heap and the lights fade… A vicious cycle bound to be repeated virtually every week. Who our mystery girl is I don’t know though a little bird just whispered into my ears we might have just seen what goes on in a day of AN AVERAGE LEGON GIRL…….