Memoirs & Reality

I  have never been married but I am hoping to be a wif e someday. I believe in love and the union of marriage as an everlasting journey with its sweet and sour moments but when that sour ness b ecome s a bitter tree of a buse , one must walk out.  Today’s post is a bout a man I had a lengthy c onversation with  on m y way home from the Accra Mall, a fter a long day of making sales during the Social Media Week.  It started with Ghc2 The conversa tion began when the ‘mate ʼ ( bus conductor) asked for his fare and he se arched for his money but eventually, couldn’t find it. I glanced at him and looked out of the window to enj oy the cool breeze of the wind on my face. (*trying to mind my business * ) “I had a GH Cedis 2 note in my hand before I boarded this bus but I’m sure I might have lost it thinking it was rubbish” ….. he blurted out.... I turned to face him and grinned with a sigh. He begun ranting about how hard the economy had become but still

If you are a Ghanaian and not a Ga, you might have heard this statement  ‘eat more Ga kenkey if you want to learn how to speak Ga”.   I was about 8 years old when I heard this statement. That was the time my family had just relocated to Accra from Offinso.  We happened to find ourselves in one of the Ga speaking communities, and as newcomers to the community, we always had to battle with the language whether in school, church, asking for direction or even buying something on the streets. As a little child, I needed to keep up with my new friends since I always got lost in a lovely conversation on our way to or from school.  Whenever there  was an open conversation, the only way of telling was by their responses, gesticulations of laughter or anger, nods, and shrugs. It was so distressing, and I needed a way out, but guess what?  I didn’t want to ask them to teach me. I sought to portray an attitude of a smart girl and secretly learn the language and surprise them. As

Do you recall those times when you spotted a food joint with so many people waiting in a queue and even cars parked along the streets to buy that food? So you join the queue only for you to realize the food was whack? What about that time when a friend recommended a seamstress and you packed your beautiful wax print material alongside an Instagram style only to realize that the African print jumpsuit you requested turned out to be a pyjamas? You lose big time. And that time when you saw a “killer” trailer of a movie which had you on edge for endless days and nights until you decided to download and watch (for those “chisel” gang members ) or went to the cinema (for the “give myself a treat” folks). It was a total flop; you were so disappointed for wasting either your internet bundle or your money. It's like after all the hype of a particular movie, say Black Panther, you finally watched only to realize it was “Black Patapaa”? You can't think far.  Well, I have had my fai

 Washing of clothes is a chore I love and I enjoy performing. I usually wash tons of clothes on Saturdays for my family except my little sister's. Despite the huge number of clothes; I often have some music on or listen to the radio to make it more exciting. One Saturday as I was carrying on my duty, a friend of the family who was dropping off some clothes she had sewed for my mother, started off a conversation with me.   Midway, she blurted out "how I wish I worked in an office like you". I looked up, smiled yet rolling my eyes at her in my mind.  So here it goes, she is a mother of four and as a Seamstress she works from home in a shop just in front of her house. Her daily routine is to wake up at dawn, wash, prepare breakfast, see the children off to school and gets working. In the evening she prepares supper then gets back to work and closes at 10pm. This routine goes on even on the weekends.  Not understanding her point I asked why.  “Because you