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.

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

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. 

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.

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.

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!

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!

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.

Puppishgirl at One

February ends today and I just remembered that the Puppishgirl forgot to observe her anniversary.  Oh yes! I sincerely hope I do not forget my birthday because I've been wondering how people can forget their  birthdays.

'I have cried
I have laughed
I have learned
I have grown
I've offended people
I have been controversial in my submissions
I made a few enemies
I made some friends
I got  constructive criticisms
I got patted on the back
... I'm living my dream'

That describes the year long journey. A year ago, I began blogging not knowing exactly what I would be posting. I just needed the space to develop my writing skills, to explore various subjects and to write a piece of my mind at all times without restrictions.

I wondered what exactly I wanted to communicate to my readers. I'm still on the discovery journey but I can tell that, I have written quite a few beautiful pieces  that people can relate to. I have always wanted a personal blog and I finally got one.

Starting off with beautiful poems, I gradually could deal with daily issues and not restrict myself to love poems. Sometimes I overstepped my boundaries and hit on people. These people decided to hit back and I got over a hundred comments for expressing my opinion as the puppishgirl.  I have made enemies after that who would not read anything from the puppishgirl because my post was exported from tango to facebook.

I was never and I'm still not a social media person. I love my privacy, I love to be the girl who isn't known on social media yet what I do is linked with social media.  I appreciate every single comment.  Those posted and those sent to me privately. I appreciate the people who take their time to read every single thing I post. It feels special to know that someone actually reads what I write. I appreciate good friends.  Those that helped me with this blog, sharing my posts on social media,  proofreading and  helping me with posting till I learned to do it all alone. I appreciate all the experiences thus far.

From writing down my Girl Guides camping experiences into fiction at age ten, to getting published for the first time in the 'Young Mirror' at age fifteen, through all the Mirror, Spectator, P&P, Magazines and Website publications,  I've loved every single bit of it.

My sincere apologies to the people I offended whilst trying to pursue my dream. From my recent post that was in three parts which I quickly removed because I value relationships and friendships and would hate to lose a friend because of my blog post. My tango post which got exported and earned over a hundred comments on facebook taught me that on this journey, I would be faced with tough situations such as reading negative comments and even attacks on my personality. It has made me tough and taught me to be careful in my submissions next time.

Regardless of these, I have had a good first year as a blogger.
Thanks to the people who encouraged me and said I could do this. Someone showed me his inbox a few days ago.  Lots of blog posts from the Puppishgirl and he had been reading them. It made me smile.
Thanks to everyone.
Life would be boring without writing and reading. ...
Puppishgirl is grateful for people like you!

If I'm History. ...

I miss your stupid face
It made me smile a million times a day. ..
I miss your silly attitude
It made me really happy...
I miss roshing you
I miss you roshing me
It taught me to be tolerant. ..
I miss you teasing me
It felt annoying but really nice...
I miss our stupid fights
It sometimes made me laugh and want to cry...
I miss our gibberish conversations
It got me elated,smiling and laughing stupidly after...
I miss you calling me tp
It made me feel special and  appreciated, I always wanted to  be your tp and it propelled me on to be that 'good girl.....'
I miss you telling me I look pretty
It felt super good like; 'he thinks I'm soooo pretty even without make up....'
I miss you begging me to mind you
I felt like I was super important to you...
I miss you texting me
It made me happy. ..
I miss you calling me
It felt special like he thinks of me every morning . ...
I miss seeing your handsome face
Even if you say you are ugly,
To me, you are the most handsome guy on  planet earth...
Inside and out
Because I know that beyond those tender eyes, Is a beautiful soul...
I miss your smile
Quite beautiful and refreshing. ..
I miss your teeth
White sparkling like the colour of your heart...
I think your heart is white...
I pushed you
You pushed me but I still miss you for a 1001 reasons and more
I cannot enumerate or enunciate...
I miss being your favourite baby
but it doesn't hurt anymore
Life goes on if you can be able to throw all that away for a piece of the world...
I miss you  but if  I'm history,
If I'm a forgotten chapter...
If I'm a read book...
If I'm a favourite novel turned jejune...
That won't stop me from missing you. 

Sometimes, strangers make you feel better than those you've known forever. This is for two amazing new friends; for those encouraging words, for the laughter and  all the nice things you said to me today. N.A and S.C...x

My Stupidity! !

I wasn't planning to post anything today because I'm under the weather and trying to get well but some dude just made me want to post this.

So my brother's driver drops me off at the pharmacy because I need to get some medication for my flu. I walk in there, just when I have told the pharmacist what I want:actifed and she is asking whether I want the syrup or tablet, the one for only blocked nose or blocked nose and cough, this guy walks in and he's the center of attention because of his fake accent.
Guy: Postinor 2 please
Pharmacist: 24.00 cedis
Guy: why?
Pharmacist: smiles
Guy: is it original?
Assistant: it's postinor 2 from Ernest chemist
Do we have fake and original?
Pharmacist: postinor 2 from Ernest chemist
Guy: Don't you have another one?
Pharmacist: Potex
Guy: How much is that
Apparently settles for Potex
Guy: It does the same thing right?
Pharmacist: Yes, emergency contraceptive.
Guy: laughs out loud...so why is it cheaper
Everyone keeps quiet. He pays for the potex and walks away. Potex is half the price I guess.
The guy drives a good car. I want to assume it belongs to him....I beg to differ.

I'm thinking,  it's so sweet of the guy to be the one getting the morning after pill. I like the fact that he's accepting responsibility and also trying to avoid unwanted pregnancy instead of a sister having to do it alone. On the other hand, this guy is trying to buy a sister the cheapest of drugs though I sincerely have not used the drug in question before and so cannot tell the difference. 

This guy has left lots of unanswered questions seriously.  I'm wondering,  why are you bursting the nuts when you are not ready to be responsible and are not taking precaution?  And if you want to avoid unwanted pregnancy, why not use the best of drugs? I think, the higher the price of the drug, the more effective it is right? So I assume Postinor 2 should be the preferred choice.  Yet this guy from everything,  wants the cheapest way out.  Why are some guys so insensitive?  The sister is going  to take the drug alone please. If anything happens to her, it will happen to just her, not you.

I guess it is said that such drugs have no side effects but I know from stories I have heard that such drugs make you have your period either exactly on the said date you are expecting it or even before, depending on when you take the pill.  I do not like that mensturating bit of womanhood at all personally.  So  I can imagine what it would feel like having it unexpectedly. Yet a sister has to go through this to pay for the actions of two people. The least a guy can do is be there, which I think he has done by going to get the drug. I will expect him to show her the best of love before and after she takes it. The other thing he could have done was to make sure he got her the best or avoid getting there by using other preventive methods.

It is said to have no side effects.  Are they sure? What about future implications on the woman? And Psychologically?  Oh well! Just wondering.

Every girl deserves the best. Guys should stop treating girls like some girls deserve the world and others a container. You guys hurt the girls and change their perception about love so she becomes bitter and even cannot see it when the good guy comes around. Guys are cheating on innocent girls who do all they can for them and end up teaching these girls to become bad. Same guys branding girls as bad when you are the ones teaching them that being bad is better than being good, because afterall, being good isn't appreciated.

Our mothers should begin to teach their sons to be real gentlemen.  A guy invites a girl to go to his house, they have a good time and the guy has no manners to get the girl back home. True gentlemen invite girls and make sure they get them back to their destinations.  Which ever way you choose to do it, it's your job unless she has a car....funny, I beg to differ.

Guys are having it the easy way out. With girls having to take care of themselves and the guys too. Well it's a relationship, you are not her father but if you cannot go out of your way to do the basic things for her, you are not loving her right.

I remember a certain sweet who always bought me airtime because I was his girlfriend. I got used to having someone buy me airtime, I never learned to buy my own airtime until recently.   I did not have to ask, he sent it on a weekly basis. Perhaps,  he thought buying me airtime was the least he could do for me but I appreciated it so much. It made me think of him as someone who thought I would need it once he was buying some for himself. Like; 'my boyfriend buys me airtime anytime he's buying for himself' and that was thoughtful of him. On the other hand, he taught me to buy airtime for people I'm sweet on. God bless him though.

Girls stop spoiling guys and causing them to mistreat you. Spoiling him by not letting him be responsible as a man, towards you. If a guy likes you, even if he doesn't have the means, he will find a way to make you happy. Won't say anymore sisters. If he isn't doing it for you, , there's someone he's doing it for. Don't cry when you find that out because you chose to help him. There's nothing wrong with helping a guy, I'm just saying don't fully assume his role for him, that's all!

Guys, if you can't adhere to the norms and customs of an idol, don't start worshipping it at all . My dear sisters,  some of you are even doing more than emergency contraceptive pills. Abortions.....etc.  Please value yourselves. He isn't  married to you!  Giving it out to just any undeserving person.  Your ........is for benefits. I'm done addressing this issue.

Don't end up saying:' My stupidity' some day!

I hope that sister taking the potex or whatever it is called tonight will get some good loving and get the best of drugs from her man next time. Every girl deserves the best. I hope the man who has her realises it early before he loses her. One man's spit is another man's weed.

Shout out to the guys doing it right: not assuming the role of her father, doing the PDA because you feel that way and making her feel special even when it's just the two of you, buying her flowers: Gh boys are becoming like....sending her airtime not because she asked for it, buying random gifts for her even if it's nothing expensive,  paying for her time at the spa once a while because you want to be part...taking her to the African Sun and all the best places because you want her to think she deserves the best and that you can take care of her as her man. Buying her that bag you saw some girl holding because you got your monthly pay when she hasn't asked for it. Thinking about her anytime you see a girl who has it all; the face, boobs, ass etc and saying to yourself;'my baby has it all too, she's fine, she's a queen' instead of leering after other girls and causing your sight to make your mind.... Sharing your 'nothing' the most little thing with her.Remember, love is also about how you make the person feel: special and cherished.
You are the best!

This is for a friend  who actually makes me feel like 'yeah, I've got it all, I'm a queen. Like, I've had lots of people take me out to places to eat ice cream but the best place I've been to eat ice cream  was with you. I've had lots of people say nice things to me but the best thing someone ever told me, was from you.' It is dark and quiet but I'm laughing out loud and hard and I know you will laugh when you read it too.  Thank you for making me laugh these past few days <3

Honey Pot

“I just want to tell you all the things you are and all the things you mean...…….You are the answer to my prayer, you are with me everywhere; you are my angel; my miracle; you are all I need tonight, you are my angel.”  The song blurred out loudly and she danced to it smiling at him whilst she sang along. Her waist wriggled and she did those moves mystically turning her back once in a while. Gaud, she looked like a real dancer, she didn’t sit down until the entire Lionel Richie’s ‘angel’ finished playing.

She collapsed on him; sitting on his lap; she held his head in between both hands. Then she pulled his cheeks on both sides, kissed his right cheek and took her seat beside him. She took a sip of her wine and he watched her in complete disbelief. This girl was something else. If he didn’t know her, he would have said she was drunk on the wine. The song ‘Angel’ by Lionel Richie began to play again, the D.J probably decided to do a replay. This time it wasn’t only Sally who jumped up to dance. Half of the people inside the lounge danced along to the song as well.Again, Sally wriggled her waist, shook her butts, lifted her hands and danced like no man’s business. Her hair flowing just a little bit beneath her shoulder, she stood in front of kojo dancing and smiling at him. Kojo was amazed at the thunderous applause the D.J received once the song had finished playing. It had not only been a favourite in the past. It was still a must dance to even now.

Sally came back to sit beside Kojo. He smiled and shook his head in complete disbelief. What a girl! She was always perky. “A kiss for you Sweetness”; she said, and gave him a quick peck on his left cheek. She held his arm and put her left hand through his arm closing in on the little space between them, leaning herself against him.‘What are you thinking about?’ She asked him. He shook his head. “Don’t say anything”, she said again. She held on close to his arm. He dared not touch her, lest she backed off to sit by herself. He kept his cool, and then she disengaged her arm and took another sip of her drink. It was time to take her home Kojo thought. He took a glance at his watch, it was half past midnight. After another sip of his drink, they both agreed to go home.Sally engaged Kojo in a conversation whilst he drove.

In less than fifteen minutes; they were in   front   of her house; at her gate.  Again, sassy Sally was smiling and chatting happily. He   got   out of the car to open the door for her; she jumped on him engaging him in a long hug. He could smell her perfume. Queen Latifah, a fragrance he had become used to smelling these days. Each time he left her; he could still smell her; Sally. Still hugging him, he disengaged himself lest she begun to say it was too long a hug. She pulled him closer, not wanting to let go of him. Again, he would have blamed her utterances on the fact that she was drunk on white wine but no, Sally’s mind worked perfectly even when he thought she was drunk. She raked her palm through his hair, down his neck and locked her two arms around his neck. This time with her eyes looking into his, she said;'goodnight' brushing her lips against his.  “Let’s talk when you get home”, she said. “Sure dear”.

Kojo watched her walk a step or two to the gate, she opened it and he could see her long cute legs. Even in kitten heels they looked quite beautiful. He waited for her to enter and went back to sit in the driver’s seat. He drove off to his own house thinking of nothing and no one but Sally. Sally the girl who had been driving him nuts for the past nine months.  Sometimes he even wondered what it was he still saw her for. Sally was like a complicated machine he could never get around even after studying the user guide several times. Unfortunately, in his case, she was no machine and there was absolutely no manual to her though he wished there was. The drive home had been quite short. He had been completely unaware of the route he had used. He obviously made it home because he could find his way home even with his eyes closed from Sally’s place he thought.

Once he got home, he took a quick shower and went to get himself some water to drink. The whole house was quiet, sometimes he hated the quietness in his own home and wished he had not left his parents house until he was ready to get married. He had to call Sally. When he did, she answered; “He-llo”, she sounded warm and sweet to him. They  stayed on the phone for an hour and twelve minutes before saying goodnight to each other. Kojo struggled to sleep thinking about Sally. He really wanted to marry that girl badly but the girl was such an activity for him. He could never really bring her to accept to date him completely, not with her attitude. She was nice and warm, leading him on sometimes and withdrawing at the final hour. Sometimes, his friends teased him about her attitude. She was never rude to him but he could never tell the way forward with a girl like her. He could never say they were going out, neither could he say they were not.  She seemed to know the game so well and was always on top of her game. Sustaining his interest in her by, giving him little or no hope or a lot of hope at other times. It felt like being with the devil.

He could never predict her, yet each time she came up with something new. The sorts of girl who raised hopes and never made you lose it yet, never really fulfilling it. Making you feel completely lost. He tried to get some sleep. He needed to, he had to. Though Sally was quite a mystery to him, he must admit he never regretted knowing her. She had him like an addict stuck and addicted. Kojo did not know where it would lead next but he was determined to hang in there. Waiting, doing his best to be the friend she wanted in him. Just then, his phone beeped. When he picked it up, it was a txt message. It was from Sally. He was expecting her to be drifting off to sleep by now whilst he struggled to get some sleep too. He viewed it to read;                              
        “I have had lots of friends give me    flowers, 
I have had lots of people take me out for a drink,                               
  I have been friends with lots of guys but,  
The most beautiful flowers I have ever received were from you.                               
  The best drink I have ever had was with you and you are the jewel                      
amongst all my male friends.                       
I don’t think I can live a day without you,         Ask me why,                               
I’m addicted to you.                              
Thank you so much for the show of love,           and yes I would be your girlfriend,                    Yes I would marry you! xoxo

Kojo blinked twice and read the txt message again. It was real, Sally had sent it. She had summed up all he had ever meant to her. Exactly the way he was feeling about her too.  “I feel you Sally”, he screamed out loud. He remembered then that the entire neighbourhood was asleep, it was quiet and so he could be disturbing them. Sally had made him the happiest man tonight, his joy knew no description. She had him fixated for so long. He had waited for so long, over a year for this to happen. She had been his honey pot for nine months and he was sure she would be for the rest of his stay here on planet earth.                                

Inspired by the boys  who consistently chase a particular girl....:)

Today, my Alice in wonderland turns a new age.  I love you so much.
Happy birthday Alice!!

A Remembrance Note.....I Waited In Vain... Featuring Guest Blogger; Mancee Adiku.

So Saturday was valentines day . A day set  aside specifically to show love to the people we love and those who matter the most in our lives.  Today I celebrate the life  of a witty, handsome , down to earth and warm hearted gentleman who loved me so dearly.  On this day I would like to say thank you for sticking and staying through my darkest moments and  at the time when my family had turned their back on me. Thank you for opening the doors of your house to me, feeding and clothing me as if you gave birth to me. You were the only person who never complained about how stubborn I was nor how short my fingers were. Whether my palms felt soft or not so long as it was me, you were good to go. You so loved my imperfections and you had your own way of correcting, guiding and moulding me into a better person.

There were moments you had gotten angry and days when you could have just walked away but you made the bond between us grow stronger and stronger instead. I still remember our fights.
Petty fights all because you were so jealous and didn't want to share me with anyone. Gosh, your anger burns . But I loved you more after every fight and so did you. I also remember the kisses from your pink african lips...they were so sweet, and your touches were like eating chocolates. 
I miss the way you tease me, sometimes made me want to cry and it made you laugh so much. Till now, I still do not know what you saw in me but your desire for me to climb the ladder of success was your biggest priority and by the grace of God here I am. It hurts me that you went away so quickly and that you won't be there in the midst of the crowd cheering me on as I receive#my honors. Oh how could distance do this to me? Why should you be taken away so suddenly?...No goodbyes, no drop offs and picks from school, no pillow fights, no cuddling up on the couch or sitting on the grass watching the stars. Neither were there any kisses nor holidaying on the beach in Ada ....
You were gone within a twinkle of an eye... Hmmmmm.

This is heartbreaking and here I am wishing I had listened to you when you said we should have a baby. At least if I had given birth he or she would remind me of You.  I wanted to be done with school first so  I can really settle down and make a family with you. Gosh! This pain in my heart, now I am only left with memories. Where ever you are, thank you for showing me what love is and what it really means to be loved. You were my perfect gentleman and a priceless gift. I dream of you, I smell you and I feel you all around. You would always remain stuck at the right side of my heart. Truly there's  none and would be none like you.  I love you !

I did not hear from you on Saturday. I tried calling you.   Something kept pushing me to call you. I tried again yesterday and still there was no response. I didn't know your silence meant you were bidding me goodbye. I called this morning and was told you went to be with the Lord a few hours ago. I'm saddened by the news of your departure.  So I've been waiting for you to come back to Ghana and all I can look forward to  now, is a last glance at your mortal remains.
I miss you soo much already, I'm going to miss you. You didn't even speak with me for the final time...God keep your beautiful soul.

In loving memory of the man who genuinely loved me and gave his all to make me happy. ....Kwabena Kyereboah ...1979-2015..........Black Monday.

Puppishgirl at One

February ends today and I just remembered that the Puppishgirl forgot to observe her anniversary.  Oh yes! I sincerely hope I do not forget my birthday because I've been wondering how people can forget their  birthdays.

'I have cried
I have laughed
I have learned
I have grown
I've offended people
I have been controversial in my submissions
I made a few enemies
I made some friends
I got  constructive criticisms
I got patted on the back
... I'm living my dream'

That describes the year long journey. A year ago, I began blogging not knowing exactly what I would be posting. I just needed the space to develop my writing skills, to explore various subjects and to write a piece of my mind at all times without restrictions.

I wondered what exactly I wanted to communicate to my readers. I'm still on the discovery journey but I can tell that, I have written quite a few beautiful pieces  that people can relate to. I have always wanted a personal blog and I finally got one.

Starting off with beautiful poems, I gradually could deal with daily issues and not restrict myself to love poems. Sometimes I overstepped my boundaries and hit on people. These people decided to hit back and I got over a hundred comments for expressing my opinion as the puppishgirl.  I have made enemies after that who would not read anything from the puppishgirl because my post was exported from tango to facebook.

I was never and I'm still not a social media person. I love my privacy, I love to be the girl who isn't known on social media yet what I do is linked with social media.  I appreciate every single comment.  Those posted and those sent to me privately. I appreciate the people who take their time to read every single thing I post. It feels special to know that someone actually reads what I write. I appreciate good friends.  Those that helped me with this blog, sharing my posts on social media,  proofreading and  helping me with posting till I learned to do it all alone. I appreciate all the experiences thus far.

From writing down my Girl Guides camping experiences into fiction at age ten, to getting published for the first time in the 'Young Mirror' at age fifteen, through all the Mirror, Spectator, P&P, Magazines and Website publications,  I've loved every single bit of it.

My sincere apologies to the people I offended whilst trying to pursue my dream. From my recent post that was in three parts which I quickly removed because I value relationships and friendships and would hate to lose a friend because of my blog post. My tango post which got exported and earned over a hundred comments on facebook taught me that on this journey, I would be faced with tough situations such as reading negative comments and even attacks on my personality. It has made me tough and taught me to be careful in my submissions next time.

Regardless of these, I have had a good first year as a blogger.
Thanks to the people who encouraged me and said I could do this. Someone showed me his inbox a few days ago.  Lots of blog posts from the Puppishgirl and he had been reading them. It made me smile.
Thanks to everyone.
Life would be boring without writing and reading. ...
Puppishgirl is grateful for people like you!

Sometimes I don't want to laugh

Laughter is food
Laughter is medicine
Laughter is life
and laughter is strength to carry on
One of life's vital elements under-rated in most cases
Laughter glow
Laughter beam
Whatever it is sometimes,
it's just me who doesn't want to laugh
Whether feeling happy
Or feeling the laughter in the voices of others
Whether the sun shines or darkness falls
I can't go against me
This is how it feels
I just don't want to laugh
Call it self centered
Thus I don't want to show my happiness for others
Call it greed
Perhaps I feel the world has to be about me
Call me weird
Indeed that won't change anything if happiness doesn't revolve around me!!

This can spark a controversy because I wrote 'A Smile' and 'Beneath the mask' encouraging people to smile. Now I've written 'Sometimes I don't want to laugh.....'

In two days, I would be a year old as a blogger.
My blog is my twitter account..lol
My blog is my diary
My blog is my notepad
My blog is my first baby
My blog allows me to just say whatever is on my mind without arguing back
Life would be boring without writing
Thank you to the people who encouraged me to start blogging.
Thank you to the people who always read and give me their thoughts
Thank you to the people who read and try to post a comment
Thank you to the people who follow the puppishgirl
Its been an awesome one year
Met other bloggers
Read other blogs.
People wouldn't know me at all not for any reason.
My talent makes my name ring a bell because they have probably seen my name either on some website, magazine or newspaper.
I love writing
I love blogging
God bless the Puppishgirl!!

When you lay still

'Its my fragrance  oil
Its my costly perfume
I'll take my alabaster box
in my hand I'll break it open...

Let the fragrance arise,
la la la la
La la la la......'

My song of Thanksgiving; 'alabaster box'  by Julie Meyer.

Last saturday, one of my favourite Auntys who crossed her finish line, was laid to rest. Again, I learned a few lessons. I  have come to realize that it is not how you begin the race but how you finish it that matters. The man of God delivering the sermon at the farewell service reiterated that.

I have noticed how people begin well yet drift away from their purpose and goals in life. I have personally drifted away several times. I thank God for the 'another chance' that he always presents me with. Yet I'm beginning to realise that the 'another chance ' thing might not always come your way. Sometimes, you will never have another chance.  I was friends with someone for seven years. Each time I forgave him, he sought other means to punish me for giving him another chance.  Finally, I chose to leave him behind. No more chances. I stopped picking his calls and made sure I did not grant him access to seeing my face ever again. I have done this for a year and still counting.

I have absolutely nothing against him. I made my peace with God. I just had to leave him behind.I'm wondering, what if we never got 'another chance ' at anything again?
Too many people have stopped paying attention to God's word.  Many people have made their achievements take over as 'god' over their lives. Some women have made their husbands their 'god'.Others have made their children their 'god' forgetting that there's  a 'God' somewhere.

How do people know that, killing someone isn't right and yet choose to kill another human being. How do people still cheat on their husbands when they know it isn't right. How do people choose to be unforgiving when they know it is wrong. How do people steal from others instead of working for their own. Is it because they  choose to harden their hearts?

What if you never have  another chance to correct your mistakes, would that be the end. What if God never gave you another chance. God will only not give you another chance when you die. So I think whilst we are still here, we should strive to make the most out of every opportunity that comes our way. Always try again, no matter what it is you find yourself doing: education, marriage, career, your walk with christ.

I've heard a song that says that the owner of this earth will be returning soon. I don't know about you but I believe in Jesus and thus I know that after my life here on earth I will be judged by my works. You grew up in a family of pastors. You proudly hit your chest and say my father is Rev......and that. Let me ask you, are you living life like someone from a Christian home? You grew up in church yet as an adult, the things of God no longer appeal to you. Someone who looks up to you has now drifted away too because even those who grew up in church have left. You know that kindness is the least thing you can do to make someone smile yet, you use your office to cause people pain and make life difficult for them. You take delight in being cruel to other people, where is your cruelty taking you? Ask yourself. You know how wrong it is to be the side chick to that man:yes the man who bought you that house. Instead of working to acquire your own, you choose the easy way out. Side chick to another woman's man. You are an elder at church and know how wrong it is to cheat on your wife yet you choose to take advantage of small girls because you think you have what it takes to lure them. So you spend your money on them to entice them to satiate your sexual desires. Forgetting you also have daughters growing up. You are a young man working and earning some money. Yet you feel life is slow for you. You decide to engage in fraud. Keep on. You have lived your whole life based on unforgiveness. Holding and counting sins against people, when you know that it is wrong. Keep on being a mini goddess to people and never learn to forgive or let go because of another human being. You call yourself a man of God yet all you do is cause confusion amongst the children of God. Preaching what is not right to people and deceiving others, keep it up.

One day, the owner of this life will take his breath away from you. When you lay still finally and cannot get 'another chance ' it is my prayer that you will have no regrets at all.
Whatever it is you are called to do, make sure you are doing it well. If you choose to be unforgiving, do it properly.  If you choose to defraud people, step up your game. Side chick, acquire more wealth. Fake man of God, deceive more people, cruel man: show more cruelty. Whatever it is you are doing:do it properly.
You will be judged soon.

Don't forget that, one day, you too will lay still and all the chances you had will be gone like the wind blows away chaff. God strengthen us and teach us to number our days.

Though I decided not to cry, I eventually did when the hearse had to take my sweet Aunty away forever. The tears that I had been holding up streaked down my cheeks and no amount of reminding myself about those who die in the Lord could stop me. My cousin made it worst knowing that would be the last time she would see her mum in this life.
Yet I'm confident that my Aunty deserted her earthly role to be with the Lord. I'm confident that she is resting with her maker. Scarred but with time they will heal.

Still praising my saviour.
He is still Lord and we won't change our God.

Praying the Lord comforts my cousins; Sakyi, Adjoa,Eric.

Memories from Ada

Growing up in Accra, Ada and Ho, I have very fond memories of my childhood and my stay in these three places.
As a child growing up,  I remember being taken  to the training college where I became a live doll for some training college students because they changed my hair style every two or so days. Poor me!

I did not live too far away from the beach and could see the sea if I climbed the wall or stood outside. Though my parents kicked against it, as adventrous as my siblings and I were, anytime my parents went to work, having been locked inside, our only fun was to climb the wall. Sit on the wall and view our surroundings with a binoculars one by one.

If you didn't learn to climb the wall, you couldn't catch  the fun so even the coward amongst them: I, learned to climb the wall. The only things I never tried were playing kpitinge, alikoto, climbing coconut trees, playing games that involved getting physical. My younger siblings took delight in playing games I found weird and stupid. How do you agree to spank each other turn by turn, ten times in a row. Yet, call that a game even when one ends up crying.
Though I went to school in Accra, almost every vacation was spent in Ada.

So I remember my siblings and I started stalking some other children who lived farther away from us. Their house was the last one at the far end secluded from all the other houses.
Theirs was much bigger and had yellow walls with a driveway that stretched on like a real winding road. Just like us, they hardly came out but made sure they climbed their wall too.
Gradually even without ever speaking with them we could tell what time they would climb their wall and we always watched as they sat on their wall. They always came outside on time,at the same time that we would climb our wall too.

Our binoculars must have gotten them intimidated as they were all boys and could not figure out what we were using. We learned later that they were the children of the DCE.
With time,they were allowed to come outside their gate and sit with their security man. Good for them, we still had to climb the wall to catch a glimpse of our neighbours.
They always locked us inside. My brother was troublesome and climbed almost all the coconut trees by the sea. He fell once from a very tall one and never told anyone but fell ill for a long time. We were always locked because out of curiosity, we could go to the oceans and play.

My brother and aunty even helped the fishermen drag their nets often. We all did once a while, I still cannot tell what for as of now. In the end, we went home with lots of fish but made sure we fried and ate as much as we could before my mum got back else trouble for us. If we couldn't finish, my Aunty was burdened with the responsibility of having to smell fried fish in her room all night. She even ended up eating all of it and would lie to us in the morning that a mice ate it. I never saw a mice around yet she always had imaginary ones visiting her room at night only to eat our fried fish. As naive as we were, we believed her. It only occurred to us years later that my Aunty had lied to us.

One day, my mum forgot to do the usual locking up of her kids and went to school. My Aunty had travelled too, so my siblings and I decided to stay home and play in the sand outside, though we could go to the beach. I sat watching them play alikoto and since I didn't know how to play that, it got boring with time. I began to read a book and then decided to go to the beach alone.
I disappeared without telling anyone. I think I was about twelve or so. I went to the beach holding a bible as a form of protection and sat on one of the fallen coconut trees. Then I spotted a canoe and decided to check it out. Whilst I was by the canoe, a little boy came to me informing me in  the Ada language that someone wanted to see me. I asked him to go and tell whoever it was to come.
It turned out to be one of the boys we had been watching with our binoculars. I later learned from him that his was the first of four boys. My heart began to beat really fast when I met him finally. Don't blame me, I was becoming an adolescent and  Sweet Valley High as well as the other books I had been reading, U.P.S, Redco and Redco parties did a good job of opening my eyes to what was cute, handsome or beautiful. This guy was so cute but looked creepy to me as well.
I knew he was going to start a fight because we had been watching them with our binoculars.

He started by introducing himself and went ahead to ask why we had been watching them. He demanded to know what we had been using to watch them. Had to explain that it was a binoculars. He even asked where we got it, but obviously I couldn't say much. My dad brought it from St.Petersburg or Moscow, hilarious.
Told him it was for fun. He just laughed. He calmed down after learning we were just a bunch of curious kids. I learned later he knew my mum because he had attended the secondary school that my mum taught at. He was a SHS leaver whilst I was in J.S.S. one going on to form 2. They were the last batch to go through sixth form. We talked, laughed and he even invited me to go to his house. Initially I did not want to,  but agreed to go after he had offered to lend me some cartoons to go watch and some game cartridges.
He was several  years older than me but with time, we began to meet at the beach every day. Looking back, I think he was such a gentleman.

Unfortunately, my mum got transferred to Accra just when we were becoming real friends with our neighbours. We kept in touch via telephone as he would call me on my landline often. He wrote me letters as well, but I never saw him again. We lost contact when I finished J.s.s and  moved houses. Our phone number changed.

One afternoon, whilst still in my third year at University, City fm carried a news story on his supposed family I had assumed at the time. Same surname: district chief executive of Ada east involved in a tragic motor accident and lost his life together with his oldest son. Same name as my friend. I cried for days and was inconsolable.
Don't know why I cried so much. Perhaps though I had not seen my friend in years, I had been hoping to see him in future I guess. I couldn't comprehend how such a handsome young man would die that way. I even wrote him a tribute and spent days grieving.

Recently, I became friends with his brother on facebook and he drove to come and see me. That was the only day I learned the truth. The family that had been involved in the car accident just had the same surname as theirs. My friend is still alive and I'm grateful to God. I miss Ada. From my house at the far end close to the beach, to the streets, watching the fishermen at work, the women who could walk about without covering their breasts,the little villages around the sea, Ada kenkey and fish, the much revered Olaga, Totimekope, Ocanseykope, church, Manet beach resort, my childhood friends...oh I sincerely hope I see them again. I even miss sitting in the Adasco truck:eeiiiii. I miss the beautiful scenery, all the lovely people including my neighbours who have passed on to glory. If I could turn back the hands of time......
Memories from Ada.

With fond memories of my friend; Ofoe Ceasar and my stay at Ada-Foah....childhood memories.

He Put A Song Of Praise In My Heart....

Just last night, I spent time with one of my favourite people. Nothing you would call extraordinary.  We didn't dine at the best hotel in town but you know what they say; time with special people doing ordinary stuff turns out to be special. We were talking about how 2015 had begun. My neighbours lost everything in a fire on new year's eve. I got home a little after 10pm looking forward to having a peaceful night. Little did I know that was not going to be.

After a quick shower I went to bed imploring my father to cause me to abide under his shadow till morning. I drifted off to sleep, afterall the load shedding was still on and my phone went off so I did not have much to do.
I woke up around 3 a m to pee and for hours I could not pee. Don't even try to imagine the pain. I could tell how this was going to end up. In the hospital laying flat on my back for the doctor to relieve me of my pain. Yes it was going to be painful and all but the pain I would go through was the very least of my worry at the time.

My mind rather began to drift off. I began to think of all the people I was not at peace with. The people I stopped talking to because I thought they had hurt me in one way or the other. The calls I do not pick and never even bother to return; whether from the old or young. The people I just disregard all in the name of self respect. Not forgetting the people whose boyfriends I go to have a drink with at the expense of their girlfriends. If I say a drink it actually ends there because I'm a girl who overly respects and adores her body. I'm particular about who I share it with. That's just me. Morality matters to me but here I was thinking. Perhaps having a drink with someone's boyfriend is wrong... The people who had hurt me, who I vowed never to have anything to do with yet still kept in my pain web. Then I also thought of the stuff I thought I owed God. In October or so, I split my tithe into two and paid just half of it.

I even thought of all the bad stuff I had done. Wow, how your mind is constantly in overdrive when you see the end approaching. I was doing the thinking whilst I could not pee..hmmm. I quickly dismissed the negative thoughts.  I was not suffering because of my sins. Afterall, if anyone is in christ, he becomes a new creation, old things are past and gone, all things have become new. This scripture helped me regain my confidence as a child of God. Then I felt at peace. That was when I began to fully trust my God to see me through. I was confident that 'he was wounded for my transgressions, bruised for my iniquities and the chastisement for my peace was upon him and by his strife I'm healed...Isaiah 53:5. 

I have friends who constantly  cannot  sleep at night. I have seen people who can only sleep with a machine because they have sleep apnea. I have seen people who cannot eat through their mouth. I have seen people who cannot breathe freely and then I know that there are others who cannot pass urine too.

It is necessary to cherish the gift of life. It is only when your body cannot perform certain basic functions by itself that you begin to realise how lucky you have been in the past. You also begin to crave for another chance. We need to cherish simple things like being able to eat through your mouth, pass urine by yourself not with the help of a catheter, sleep by yourself not with a sleeping machine, breathe freely amongst others. Even  being able to see, hear and talk is a privilege we take for granted.

No one can understand the depth of my praise this evening when I sing Don Moen's;
'God is good
All the time
He put a song of praise in this heart of mine
God is
All the time
God is good.....'
Don Moen definitely had my situation in mind singing that song. Last night was a tough night. This morning, God came through for me. I know he's working things out for me; whether ugly,serious, bad, written off, my case is not finished yet. He knows how to compensate me.

I'm out of the woods now. Thanks to everyone who worried about me because they've probably not heard from me today. Sorry I could not reply your whatsapp messages or pick your calls. Now you know where I've been.  To hell and back. I'm not sad about the pain; every pain has an expiry date.
I'm just grateful to be alive this evening.  I'm grateful for his healing power. I'm grateful he put a song of praise in my mouth.

This post is inspired by Don Moen's 'God is good'. Dedicating this to  everyone whose body cannot perform certain basic functions.
I pray God is good to you, just like he has been to me from last night till now.

What Have I Done For Me Lately?

Being overly available to people leads to misconduct.
People never value others till they have said 'good bye'. I have personally taken people for granted only to realise their worth after I've successfully made them feel unworthy. Then it dawns on me that I had taken them for granted for quite too long. Cherish the people who are available to you when you need them most..don't wait till they are gone to realise how important they were to you.

It's always better to start new friendships and begin anew than dwell on old ones where you can count the number of times they made you feel shitty but never make the old mistakes again. Forgive though. I beg to differ.

Forget the people who enter into agreement with others and pull out at the last minute without any  notice...Let God be the judge.

Let go of the people who ask you for personal stuff whilst asking other chicks out to the pub: sister you are worth more than that. You deserve to be asked out to the pub too and even more not only for personal stuff.

Forget the boys who disrespect the black sisters for the white sisters because they are sorting them out far away. Black is beautiful too, no disrespect to my white sisters.

Forget the boys who fall for the girls who buy them pizza, game tickets and tickets to shows:even when they claim they are committed to you:cheap boys.

Forget the boys who post  personal pictures of other girls on facebook, instagram, twitter because you can't see them and yet still profess to love you. What happened to loyalty?

Forget the boys who will never go out of their way to do stuff for you.
Would you please forget the boys who would never skip a meal for you, yet you lose sleep over them...

Forget the boys who never buy you a pin.
Sister wake up, you are holding on to nothing.

Sister get a life...
You are worth more than that...
Value yourself, if you don't, no one will.

Forget the boys who when you block, never try to reach you. Sister you deserve one who would fight to speak with you.

Again would you please forget the boys who take stuff from you to give to other girls. That's disrespect. Sister wake up, you deserve better.
As 2014 ends, will my sisters let go of the past and celebrate themselves.

I love Sinach's song:'I know who I am'.
Every girl should listen to it every morning before you step out. You are created in the image of God. You are God's favourite girl. Let no man make you feel worthless. You are beautiful, intelligent, you are someone's weed: addiction. You are someone's dream girl. Realise it now.

As 2014 ends, will my sisters ask themselves: 'what have I done for me lately?'
Sister it's never too late to do anything for yourself. Create your own personal brand, do something you have been wanting to do forever, get into your dream profession etc. Above all don't forget that God loves you even in the midst of it all.

When you go spending  forty five minutes at the salon, you get bored and your creative mind goes to work...lol. Inspired by my time at the salon tonight. This is for all the beautiful, strong sisters I know.