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Monday 23 March 2015

Sleeping With The Enemy

Eyes watching
Devlish eyes
Every step of the way
When I trip he laughs
When I stand tall
He cries
I see scorn in his eyes
Eyes so red
His eyes rape me.

Arms so heavy
A man ought to be ugly and fierce
The most ugly of all men
Never seen an ugly man in my entire life
Drugs me
Beats me
Steals from me
Loves to see me weep
Takes my dignity without permission
He doesn't deserve to be a friend

As wrong as it feels
As sickly as it may feel
The most uncouth
Unpolished
Ugly
The smallest of all glasses I have ever and would probably ever see
Whatever it is
Don't sleep with the enemy
and call it sleeping with the enemy
Brings you trouble
Brings you ill luck
Floating videos
Clouds of doom
Clouds of darkness
Sleeping with the enemy! !












This will definitely...............
controversies.

Inspired by a book I read:  'Sleeping with an enemy'  written by Rev. Francis Yalley.

Thursday 19 March 2015

Cherish! Cherish! Cherish!

Cherish the people who call you friends.
Cherish the people you call friends
Cherish them.
Cherish the people who pray for you
Cherish the people who pray with you
Its the best thing anyone can do for you
Cherish them.
Cherish the people who call you
Cherish the people you call
Cherish the people who can just leave all they have to do to have deep conversations with you.
Cherish the people who have  drinks with you
Cherish the people you have a drink with
Cherish them.
Cherish the people who laugh with you
Cherish the people who cry with you
Cherish them.
Cherish people for choosing to be your friend when they had a hundred options to choose from.
Cherish the boy who adores you when there are a hundred other girls to choose from.
Cherish that dude who looks at your face and writes you a fat cheque
He's not stupid
He just likes to share his money with you.
Cherish the girl who kisses you
She's not clingy
Kissing you feels like she has never kissed her entire life because it feels right
Its not because you are a good kisser.
Cherish the guy who hugs you like you are his world
Its not because you smell super nice of some J'lo but because hugging you feels special.
Stop with the attitude and  lose talk.

I think people should stop wasting time on people who do not cherish the little things in life. A couple of months ago, I went out of town. This was a trip I had been looking forward to and had ended up postponing for so long. Finally I went. It felt lonely in the midst of strangers; white and black. Apart from the public places I went to, I was lonely most of the time. I still appreciate those two special girls I met from Botswana and Cameroon. It felt like I had met my own sisters. Talking about nothing special from make up, hair, food, movies to babies. That evening, I was so elated. At last I had gotten people to talk to. You didn't have to text me, I think I kept calling people all the time on viber just to talk. I learned to cherish having people to talk to

People should stop wasting time on people who do not cherish them. People should learn to cherish others.   When people leave all they have to do to give you attention, they aren't idle or fools. Cherish them. Cherish people whilst they are alive. Stop writing them long tributes when they are dead. Celebrate them when they are alive. Forgive easily, help when you can, laugh and cry with them, if you can't choose to be their audience. Don't hurt them. Smile at them. Listen to them. Be nice to people, know what to say at the right time.  If not, learn to shut up. Sometimes people aren't anti-social, they just choose to be instead of wasting time with stupid people.  Don't wait till you lose them to realise you could have been nicer. Cherish, cherish people. Write them nice things to read and laugh instead of writing them long tributes full of things you wish you had done for them . They can't hear you. They would cherish it better than the farewell notes and so called tributes.  People should stop with the hypocrisy.










This one has to be for my new friend at ******.  I love it when you scream  my name and blow me kisses when I turn to look at you....xxx

Tuesday 17 March 2015

I Watched Him Die

'Like evening
Darkness sets on the souls of men
And lingers on forever
Complete darkness'

So Friday night, the worst happened just when I thought I would experience some calm.

After spending about thirty minutes at tawala, I decided to satisfy my craving for the night; urban taste fried rice. Apparently, urban taste had moved from their old location on the main Dzorwulu-Perez chapel stretch of road so we had to make a U-turn to get back to Shaka Zulu. My friend and I decided we would not go and make another U-turn just to get to Urban taste.  Emil decided to park across the street by J.A Plant Pool. As usual, it was total darkness in that part of Accra and the traffic lights were not working.

I chose to stay in the car because my ankle hurt after I hit it against a shrub in the sands at tawala. He did not return with the food and I was expecting to hear that we would have to wait for a while for the food but instead, he was in a haste to move the car. I had a packed night and could not wait to get home to freshen up and go wherever. 'We have to go to the hospital, a guy just got knocked down by a vehicle', he told me.
I was stunned to learn the driver had sped off after running him over.

Getting to the hospital was such a struggle. I kept looking back at the taxi which followed us closely carrying the victim.  I could see his head move from time to time in the back seat. It was such a relief knowing he was still alive. We finally got to the Police Hospital and my friend rushed out of the car to go to the O.P.D.  I got out to go stand by the taxi by the victim. A close look at his face sent shills down my spine. He was crying out in pain. His left arm was broken and disjointed from its main socket joining it to his shoulder and even in the black and white long sleeve shirt he wore I could see that he had lost his arm.

He cried out in pain. 'Help me, is this my end? Eric... help me please'. 'Sorry' was all I could manage to say. I did not know what to say to him. I began to cry but realised I needed to be strong for the man in this situation to know that it wasn't over for him and that he was going to be fine. 'God help me, God help me. My arm is broken...' I started to say a prayer for him. I said to him;'yes , keep calling on God, he's the only one who can save you. Call unto him, he can hear you, he will heal you.You will be okay.' 'Okay' he replied. I began to pray. I decided to ask him; 'what's your name please? ' 'Eric Gyamfi.' 'Is there someone I can get in touch with for you, like a relative?' 'Yes, please check my phone.' The taxi driver told me his phone had fallen down at the exact spot where he got knocked down.  I asked if he could recall anyone's number but he said no. So I asked, how do I locate his family.  He said to me that he was a Pastor and showed me the exact location of his church.  I quickly saved the information on my phone. 'You are a pastor, you know God can see you through. Please hold on to your faith. Speak to your God. I trust him to see you through. ' When I said this, I meant it.

I kept praying for him as I stood beside him talking with him. Some  nurses had closed and were going home. They also came to speak with him.  Consoling him. Yet those who needed to  take care of him would not. All this while, he still sat in the taxi and fifteen minutes was gone since we arrived at the hospital.  I got upset with the slow nature of the entire procedure. They just came and leered at him and then went back. They came again to say the place was full up. The final time, they came to say he should walk to the O.P.D because there was no stretcher available. I asked the nurse how a man with a broken leg and an arm off could walk. He got my message because I was getting upset and he just disappeared and came back with a stretcher.  Getting him out of the car was such a task. I had to turn my back to them because I couldn't stand watching him suffer.

Emil had to get him a hospital card and pay before treatment could commence.  Treatment only commenced after twenty minutes after we arrived at the hospital.  Then I stood watching them treat him from the glass doors. They were so close I could hear them. The only thing separating us: the doors. The man was still conscious. He seemed to have relaxed a bit once they had commenced treatment.  I watched as they shaved his head apparently due to the cut. I watched as they put drips on him. I watched as they cut his shirt inorder to have access to his arms and clean him up. To me, not much was being done yet he  seemed calm now. He was no more crying out in pain.

My friend stepped outside and asked me to go with him. He had with him Eric's wallet.  Just then, something fell onto the floor. I watched as Emil picked it up. It was his wedding band. 'Bad man' Emil said. We both burst into laughter. 'Oh no, he says he's a pastor.' Oh well, at this point I needed him to get better and not judge him. I had to be the witness here as they went through his wallet. We found a piece of paper with some numbers written on it and decided to try them. Perhaps we could reach Eric's family.  We called the first number and he said he was in Kumasi but knew him very well. He then offered to give us his phone number but we said thank you and cut the call.
Then we tried the second number.  This person knew Eric too and gave us his wife's number.

Finally,  we got in touch with her and asked her to meet us at the hospital because her husband was involved in an accident.  We went back to where Eric was being treated. Again Emil went inside whilst the chicken stood outside watching them through the glass doors. This time Eric was asking for food.  He kept saying he was hungry.  I could see his stomach jump up and down , at least that's how it looked to me, whilst the medics worked on him. I thought they were rather too slow and could not comprehend why several of them stood there yet not much was being done. I moved away a little bit to call Eric's wife again. This time she said she was almost at the hospital.  I heaved a sigh of relief. I resumed my post by the door.

'Please give me water, I'm thirsty' Eric said. 'I want water, water....' This time he got me real scared. I was still praying and pacing back and forth but stopped to stand closer to the door now. I had heard stories of people asking for water before they died. So I just had a feeling this wasn't right. Oh Eric please hang in there, you will be okay, I prayed silently.   'Jesu-s, Jesus, Jesu-s. Please give me water to drink. Give me water and let me die. Wate- r  pleas-se.'  He kept screaming.  The medics still worked on him. 'Do we have to give him water? ' Emil asked. 'No' said the doctor as they kept on attending to Eric. Just then Eric shut his mouth and closed his eyes. Then I saw him lay still. That scared me but I held on to my faith. I had that bad feeling, he would die yet I remembered Psalm 118:17 , 'I shall not die but live to declare the works of God.'  Eric shall not die I kept praying. A man's life shall be up to seventy years and beyond, Eric isn't seventy yet. In the bible, you raised Lazarus from the dead though he had been gone for days. May every dead thing in this body come alive in Jesus name.

Eric lay still and did not move. I wanted to cry. 'Whats wrong with him?' I inquired but no one answered me. Rather one of the nurses started pumping his heart with his  hands. 'Is he okay?' I asked again.  The whole team of medics were silent now. They just stared at me and stared back at Eric. The male nurse kept pumping his heart yet Eric didn't regain consciousness.  'Whats happening to him?' I asked again. 'He's being revived' said a police man to me.  He had brought some patients who were in detention at his station and so had been watching closely. 'Why are they trying to revive him? Is he dead?' Apparently, I was asking dumb questions.  He was dead. Then they started getting the needles out of him and everything they had been doing for Eric stopped and the medics started dispersing. Oh no, he was dead. I began to cry out loud. 'You guys killed him finally with your lackadaisical attitude'. They all turned to look at me. I was inconsolable as I cried. People tried holding me. Then I saw Emil. He pulled me into his arms and said; 'Its okay.' I didn't know I had that much strength. I pulled out of his arms and every attempt to pull me back failed as I would not let him. Some of the medics followed us. Trying to make me understand that he would have died because he bled too much.

I just ignored them and walked on to the parking lot. Bunch of hypocrites.  Is your duty to save lives or to determine which ones to save. I thought to myself.  Emil told me the doctor was just trying to stabilize his condition so they could transfer him to Korle-bu. 'Emil, please. I don't want to hear about those people.  They did nothing for the guy. I was there. Please don't patronise me.'  People even thought I was a relation but I do not have to be related to  a man  to feel his pain or cry because he lay still. Just then a taxi stopped and I saw a woman come out of it. She was with a baby and a teenager. That could be Eric's wife I said to Emil. The medics told me to wipe my tears and stop crying so the woman would not suspect a thing. Emil went to speak with her. Just then I turned back to look. The morgue can was being wheeled  to take him so Emil led her through the opposite walk way to the doctor's consulting room. I went back with the medics to see Eric being cleaned up. I didn't like the smell of the place now. Oh. He just lay still. I could not believe it. He was talking a few minutes ago. He looked so lively.

I went to sit with the teenage girl and the little girl that Eric's wife had come to the hospital with.  I learned that the little girl was his only child and the teenage girl, their help. 'Is he badly injured?' Inquired the teenage girl. I didn't know what to say. 'His arm is broken' 'Oh daddy.' I walked away so she wouldn't see me cry just in time to find Eric's wife who had been led to where he lay crying.  She patted him on the chest talking to him. I could not hear a word because by this time the stretcher had been moved farther inside.

The medics looked like they had seen a ghost. I looked at their faces and saw hypocrisy written on them. Same people who did not want to treat him an hour or so ago, same people feeling sorry. Same people who took forever to get him out of the taxi and commence treatment, same people looking stunned.  Why be a nurse if you do not have the passion to save lives?

This brings  to bare the fact that, my country is ill equipped to handle such emergencies.  Yes. I did not see all those equipments I see in the movies. I also did not see the medics   rushing to save this life like they do in the movies.  I also did not see that desire to ensure  this man came out alive like I see in the movies. Even when they were losing him, I did not see a CPR or the team rushing to save him. Everything was wrong from the minute we arrived at the hospital. It felt like Emil and I were the only ones who wanted him alive. Yes. I did not see or feel the attitude of well meaning medics.

In Ghana, the nurses are only friendly and nice if you visit a private hospital because over there, they stand to lose their jobs if they aren't.  In the public hospitals where most people are forced to go because of a referral , the nurses are curt and insensitive to the phlights of the people: the reason they are there. Well apart from the nurses at the Cardio unit at Korle-bu, I do not know any other public hospital nurses who are all friendly and kind. In most places, majority of them are not. God bless the few nurses and doctors who will move heaven and earth to ensure the safety of their patients. Back to my own friendly team at the VRA hospital and the doctors and nurses who worked on me a little over a year ago. They made me feel like I did not deserve to go through the cuts and needles thing at all. Such angels. God bless them all.

Our current power outage situation has made it easier for people to commit crimes and get away with it.  Yes, if the street lights had been on, if only the traffic lights were  working around Dzorwulu on Friday the 13th of March,  I'm sure it would have been easier to track down whoever run Eric over. People around would have seen it as well.

We as a people must change our attitudes towards certain things. No one in this country is willing to help anyone in distress. Yes because in the end, the helper becomes the bad person. Just like Eric's family is suspecting Emil of being the one who run him over when the real driver is resting somewhere else. Emil paid Eric's bills and I do not think we took Eric to the hospital because we wanted him dead. The evidence is clear. Nothing on the car shows that there was an accident.  Taxi driver confirms taking victim to the hospital in his taxi driving right behind us. Police at the hospital confirm checks did not reveal anything contrary to our side of the story. Onlookers at the scene confirm that Emil and I were just helpers. Why is it so difficult for us as a people to  accept the real truth. Why won't people just go on their way if they find a man in such a situation next time?

What about that meanie who ran away?  I have had sleepless nights since Friday. I have skipped meals and been in shock. I have been very scared and he or she lives a free man.  I leave him to God.

One thing people keep asking me. 'Did you lead him to confess christ?' No I did not. Firstly I have  never been faced with such a situation to know how to respond appropriately.  Secondly, , though I kept praying for Eric, I did not envisage he would die.  I felt it whilst praying that we would lose him but again, I could not be sure. I had so much faith in God.  I have never been faced with such a situation. Thirdly, Eric said to me, he was a Pastor.  I assumed that as a pastor, he knew what to do in his distress and  saw no need to lead him to confess Christ though something kept pushing me to remind him to confess christ. Again,  if I did that, it would  mean that I was writing the man off and giving him little hope. Well you do not only need to confess Christ when the end  is near. Confession must be done  often, is it? I'm not sure. I can't tell what was running through his mind when we were having a chat on arrival at the hospital.  Perhaps he saw the end.

Sad ending for  a man whose only aim was to have a meal at Urban taste on foot because he had been involved in an accident three or so days ago damaging his car completely.  What happens to that little girl who is barely two years? And his wife? If I'm feeling this burdened and broken, I cannot begin to envisage their pain. God comfort them. I cannot say RIP to Eric because watching him go, I rather think it is an inappropriate expression to use. I think Rest well will sound better. 

Through you,
I witnessed someone die
Through you I discovered the lapses in our system.
Through you,
I know I  still love people no matter who they are.
Through you, I'm reminded I cannot be a nurse
I'm too sympathetic towards the plight of others I cannot stand piercing someone with a needle
I have learned a dozen lessons
I do not regret meeting you a few hours before you died.

Rest well Eric
May your soul find rest in the splendour of the almighty.

To my friend Emil.
You are one in a million.
Not every man cries when another man dies, you got me laughing hard though after asking me not to cry, you ended up crying too.
I admire you for helping a stranger and attaching so much importance to it.
I'm still learning.





Based on a true life story:
13th March, 2015. 

Been depressed for days but I finally found the courage and strength to write this. Not the best but seriously I don't think I can do better.  Writing this hurt. Now everyone knows why I've  been so withdrawn. 


Saturday 14 March 2015

When It Ends!!

Like chaff,
Mans life is blown away
Blown with the wind
To an unknown place

Like wax
Mans life melts away
Melted with each wax
Melted away

Like evening
Darkness sets on the souls of men
And lingers on forever
Complete darkness'

Life like sands
Sands of time
You write in it and
with time
It fades away
What you write becomes invisible
With time
Life ....
Life.....
When it's time to fade away!

Life like a book
Written page after page
Chapter to chapter
Then the end!

Life like a movie
You act out your script every day
Then one day
The movie;
No more parts
You are just done acting
Your movie is done
The end...

Chilly

Cruel

It ends !













'So teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom (Psalm  90:12 ).
Last night I learned that it takes longer to take your first breath than the last one. One minute you can hear somebody talk through the door asking for food, another minute water and he begs for it so much, the next second he shuts his eyes and lips. He lays still.

Those  medics looked at me and told me he was gone. Whilst I watched them do nothing when he was about to go.
Even in that state,
they kept telling me
He will be okay.
Where okay probably meant; 'Okay in another world' not this one..
I'm still in shock.
Sleep deprived
Loss of appetite
Traumatised
My heart is bleeding .
Chilly and cruel.
I can't even write.
I cannot see the sun from where I sit but I know that this too shall pass.

Friday 13 March 2015

Just A Piece of My Mind II

Still continuing my post from yesterday. I would love some answers but of course I'm not expecting any.

Why can't people say thank you? I remember picking up this lesson at age eight or so during my U.P.S days. Saying 'sorry, please and thank you.' I've lived my whole life remembering this vital lesson. Thank you is a word that is so missing from some peoples' vocabulary.  Do the most minute thing for them, they will never say thank you. Do them the most important favour, they will still not say it. Its just not their thing.  I have this friend who kept pestering me for something he needed and he thought I could get it for him. He made it sound like his next breath depended on it. I finally got it for him and only heard from him after a few weeks. We resumed our friendship like nothing happened. I was not expecting a thank you though. There's nothing wrong with saying thank you. There's nothing wrong with showing appreciation. You lose nothing so why can't people say those words? Is  it their upbringing? No! Its just not their style.

These days, people use the phrase; 'I love you' for the fun of it. Do they really know what that means? How can you love someone and be unforgiving towards the person?  How can you love someone and not share stuff with them when they need it most. Please say it and mean it. If not,  do not say it all. Don't let others lose the appropriate meaning of the word just because you choose to use it wrongly. It's not fair.

Why do some guys choose to insult girls who turn them down when they ask them out? Sometimes,  they choose social media platforms to do it and the girl becomes the topic for discussion due to the  status they put up. The girl automatically becomes their enemy.  They would hate her with passion. Please love isn't by force. Real gentlemen bow out gracefully. No need insulting the girl.  Sometimes people aren't looking for love.  They are just looking for a pizza eating mate in you.

I just realized some men can nag more than women. Seriously its not fun at all. Even women are trying to stop nagging.  Hahahahah.

I want to understand why people choose to be in occupations  involving customer service.  I'm sure you knew what you were in for, choosing such a profession so, deal with it. My fellow sisters especially who bring their mood to work.  Quit your job or close down if you can't be nice to people, its that simple.  Don't make others suffer tolerating your curt behaviour.

Well again,
That's my opinion
I beg to differ.
You are entitled to yours.
The Puppishgirl is entitled to hers too.

Wednesday 11 March 2015

Just A Piece of My Mind

Today, there are a few issues I would like to discuss on here. Yes because I need some answers though I won't get any. I'm sure.

Why do people spit everywhere in Ghana?  Illiterates  do it, the literates do it too. You see a woman walking on the streets of the capital and they just spit and walk on like nothing happened.  They aren't pregnant too. Being pregnant doesn't give you the freedom to spit everywhere. You see a man  in a tuxedo  riding in a touareg and he opens his car door in traffic just to spit. Ouchhhhh.  What's this spitting all over business.  Please spitting in public is rude. Crass behaviour! And you won't do it with caution too. I beg to differ but I think spitting about should be prohibited in Ghana.

Lately, you see girls all over with their front hairline bare and then their long extensions. Its an eyesore. No disrespect. Sisters who are you competing with?  Can't you see you are going bald? Call it alopecia. Losing your hair in the name of fashion? What's wrong if you leave your own hair on for a while. Just to let your hair regain its strength? Please go easy on your hair.  Enough of the weaves and braids. Do  you know you can go bald? Would you prefer that?

What's this new trend in town? Guys growing their nails. How do you use those long nails on your wives and girlfriends?  Let me ask, are you going to have your nails done? Well if no, please cut them. Or its simple, paint them. That's all! Personally I think guys shouldn't grow their nails, my opinion. I beg to differ.

Why are some sisters trying so hard to wear their beach clothes to church? Seriously, what for? Church is supposed to be a haven for all. The guys should be able to get a break away from the beach clothes when they go to church yet the church is where some of my sisters want to show off extra flesh. It's good to be fashionable but please reserve your beach clothes for the beach. Give the guys a break. They don't want to see beach clothes in church.  When I see you in beach clothes at church, I would expect to see  nice ass, nice boobs, nice legs and thighs as well as beautiful skin. Sister if you are lacking in that department, cover it up. You are going to church not to white sands beach, thank you!

I won't talk about the anklets and toe rings. I won't act like a saint. If you knew me during undergraduate days, I was a number one fan of anklets and toe rings so you would probably find me annoying now. Infact I started wearing them right after SHS. Yes I say it boldly because I do not want to sound like a hypocrite. Do what makes you happy but not to church because then you are compelled to reveal more flesh and some of you choose beach clothes.

I went to one of the big churches in Accra. It's a church with branches across the globe but I ended up staying in the car all through the service because I was coming from a wedding.  Dressed in a little above the knee  dress with just one sleeve. The ushers told me I could not go in. That's how I learned my lesson. Be fashionable but when going to church, tone down on the revealing clothes please. 

I also got invited to another big church in the capital by a friend.  I had an awesome time though lead singer was dressed to go shopping. Her singing was good. She over-danced, she forgot I'm sure and gave us a good showing of her........
Quite embarrassing I guess but who asked you to wear your shopping dress to church as lead singer? Compelling people to look at nothing in particular. Ass; zero. Thighs; zero. Legs; zero. Will end it there.....
I think people should learn to dress appropriately to suit whatever occasion they are attending.

Just a piece of my mind.
Just my opinion.
You are entitled to yours.
The Puppishgirl is entitled to hers too!

Tuesday 10 March 2015

A Knife Through My Heart

'Sad, depressed, burdened
Broken, tears unlimited, torture
A knife through my heart'

I was on my way home from church a few hours ago when this little voice kept calling me:'madam, madam.' I turned to find a little girl behind me. 'Good evening madam' I did not know what to expect so I just responded:'Good evening, how are you? ' 'Please can I follow you home to live with you?' I was lost for words but still managed to ask 'why would you want to follow me home?' 'Because I know you can help me.'  Eeeii I thought to myself. A girl in dirty clothes looking up to me to assist her. Finally, the witches in my village have visited me and decided to do it on my way from church. Yes, after church. I thought to myself....just a joke though...Hahahahah.  I wondered why of all the people she had met today, she chose me as the right person to take her home.  That's blood cuddling I thought taking a good look at the little girl who stood before me.

I could not comprehend what was happening but after a while I regained my composure. I wanted some answers. What had happened to her own home? According to her, she lived with her cousins but they had been ejected by their landlord and the cousins had asked her to wait for them because they were going to check something but they never returned.  It's been two weeks and she's had no place to sleep but in the market.

Where were her parents?  She said she was an orphan. After talking with her I had heard stories of a guy attempting to rape her, how she was labelled a witch and how she could not take me to their old house because no one wanted to see her face in the neighbourhood. 

The stories did not fit in at all and her unwillingness to co-operate with me baffled my mind. First thing that came to mind; take her to the police yet I didn't.  She looked tired and hungry.  I offered to pay for her meal but  she declined saying she needed a place to stay the night and beyond. I guess accommodation was first on her scale of preference. Yes because apparently all she had eaten was fifty pesewas roasted plantain all day. She looked so innocent but she was not willing to take me to her old house. How then would I know that this so called fourteen year old who looked like a ten year old was being truthful.

My neighbour was willing to accommodate her but was not ready to go to the police.  He finally left her to go to town. Lots of people had spoken to her yet no one wanted to go to the police. I even heard that in my absence, a certain man; man of God he claims pronounced her possessed.  I sought legal advice before taking any action. In the end since no one was willing to go with me to the police, and I could not predict the little girls actions if she had to narrate her story to the police, Human beings are funny.So though I really wanted to help this little soul, I did not.  No one was willing to help her too. They all wanted me to be the one to take her to the Police Station.

I sat with her to have a drink.  This time she accepted my offer.  I explained to her that she would  have to go back to the market to sleep  just for another night and return early tomorrow morning so I can see how best to assist her. I gave her money to last her for three days, I'm sure and told her to have a good meal tomorrow.  James looked on as I struggled to part with this girl. I did not want to let her go but everyone said it was for the best. As I watched her leave, my heart tore to pieces. I began to cry. The pain of watching this little girl go and spend the night in some unknown place. As I cried, my friend tried to console me. Why did her cousins let her go? Why are people so mean sometimes. Possessed or not, what happened to deliverance and all. Why the discrimination because a young girl decided to have a voice by exposing a wanna be rapist?

I just wished this was happening somewhere in Africa because I know a man who loves the rejected, possessed or not. He would make them his responsibility.

Here I am, saddened, depressed, broken. I can't sleep knowing that little girl is out there, no bed, no shelter, nothing.  Burdened with the responsibility of what her fate would be tomorrow.  I'm feeling shitty. I would probably cry all night knowing I could have helped her but did  not. I'm in for the long haul.

Blessing, I'm sorry I couldn't be of help. Where ever you are,  my heart and thoughts are with you. I'm praying and believing God to see you through the night and if he can use me to salvage your situation, may tomorrow guide and lead me to you.  If not, may he bring that one angel to remedy the situation.  Today, you taught me another lesson and made me discover something else about me.

I won't forgive myself if something should happen to you.  May God command his angels concerning you and heal a broken me.
Hoping you would be safe!



















Friday 6 March 2015

The Red, Gold and Green

The drums beat
The flags hoisted
The dancers danced
The singers sang
The red, gold and green
Her children came out
Adorned in their best traditional clothes
A sense of patriotism
In the midst of all  the challenges
A 58th cannot go uncelebrated
Challenged but with lots to be grateful for
Sweet wine passed around
Palm wine..
Fufu, tuo zaafi...
They feast and uphold her
A pride that will always remain
Even if they go and come
She would still be home
The red, gold and green
The blackstar
Our motherland
Let the flags fly
Let the trumphets blow
Let them stand together and join hands
To sing....
Keep the flag high
The red, gold and green
Ghana
Ghana
Ghana
Happy independence day!!




Though challenged, I still love you very much Ghana.
Not the best piece though but I'm elated....
Hope you'all  at home had a good holiday.