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Monthly Archives: October 2013

Unapologetic Open Letter to Brig Gen. Nunoo rtd

Unapologetic Open Letter to Brig Gen. Nunoo rtd

Dear General,

It has never been my intention to write to you but with your rants over the last four days I can’t ignore you inasmuch as I want to. Let me first apologies on behalf of the good people of Ghana for tolerating the likes of you as leaders. Well the good news is, just as you do not give a hoot about the plight people are going through in the hands of your government, I give a hoot about what you said hence my willingness to write you this letter. Now in order for us to have this conversation I will crave you indulgence to allow me call you by pet names I have coined out of you names. This will bring out my level headedness and prevent me from saying things I will apologies for.

Uncle Nunu, hehehehehe your name alone should even get you to feature in a nunu milk television or radio commercial. At least you would be in the media for a good reason, promoting the drinking of milk rather passing provoking politically inclined comments. I can just picture you refusing a cup of tea without nunu milk, not being apologetic about it and your dialogue being something like ‘Either give me nunu milk or get out’. Epic!

Enough said about your name.  It is said that in every house there is a Mensah and so if for you think you are the only Mensah in Ghana then you indeed do not know how to tickle yourself for the right effect.  We all know it is easy to get talked about in the media, just say something foolish in the name of politics and you’ll make the headlines. But did you have to stoop so low to join the ranks of Ayariga, Akua Donkor , Oko Rozay and Kof Wayo? If you think you will still maintain you rank of a Brigadier General among them, then you are mistaken, for ‘Herselency’ Ekua Donko will not entertain it at all.(Free advise)

By the way, Nunuuu Miliky, just as you, I have not eaten the whole day and there are no oranges growing where I am so no orange juice for me. See how fortunate you are? I do not expect you to sympathize with me for you are a tough person. At least that’s what you tell yourself in your mind. You see, the difference between you and I is that, your choice of orange juice is not because you do not have options but because that is what you chose to have. How then can you call that sarcrifice? My choice of not having breakfast is as a result of me just being able to afford a meal a day. The funny thing is that my late uncle I Know My Redeemer Liveth also used the phrase’ I have not eaten the whole day’ whenever he wasn’t served his favorite bowl of Yakeyake and so it makes it hard for me to believe you. After all, just as you he was a security expert and security experts are known to be good lairs. Oooh yes!  In his one-man village, he was the chief security expert.

Now my good old Don Nunoo, unless you are willing to provide the ram miraculously for the sacrifice do not ask us to sacrifice our sons for we are no Abrahams. I wonder if you understand the word sacrifice after hopping from one political party to the other for your own convenience based on which of them is in power. If you think building a classroom block is sacrifice then think again.  Sacrifice is when you have to queue in the scorching sun to vote for people who win power and are mismanaging the country. Sacrifice is working for 22 months without pay and you are only paid for two months because you threatened a strike action. Sacrifice is when you have tariffs increased by people who do not pay tariffs and they expect you to be cool with it. Sacrifice is when the cost of living is so unbearable yet before you go to bed you pray that things would get better for you are doing your possible best for it to be so. To be honest with you, aside you riding in your V8 with a motorcade leading you at the expense of the taxpayer; we really do not know what you do as a security advisor. By the way I thought security persons are discreet so why the rants and insults?  Do you know that one of the highest forms of indiscipline is leaving your designated job to do another person’s job? Even Fifi Kwetey no longer does propaganda but finance.

Instead of you advising the President on how a beauty pageant called Miss Buy Ghana is exploiting Ghanaian girls in Brazilian and Peruvian weaves as contestants you are saying ‘Gbeshi’ things that if we feel the country is too hot for us we should leave.  If you get angry and want me to apologies, please note that, I am relocating from Anyako to Dzelukope and I’m not obliged in any way to apologies.

Your not amused new friend,

Efo Korshi Gator.

 
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Posted by on October 22, 2013 in ARTICLES

 

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With Love From Dzelukope

With Love From Dzelukope

My Lorlor,
I’m highly intoxicated with excruciating excitement to write you this letter, as the brightness of the sun has given me this opportunity to be ‘francofactically’ frank with you on an issue that has had my heart throbbing like drums of an agbadza ensemble.
They say a picture tells 1,000 words but when I look at yours all I see are these 3, I Love You. Yes I love you like a ripe hamattarn pawpaw. The one appatipre’s have not discovered yet ooooh. Shiny like a clean shaven albino’s head that has been oiled a little bit.
Sweetie Pie Pie whether it is meat pie, onion pie or tuna pie you are sweet papaaa. I have not tasted your love yet but in my mind it is sweet. See, me, I stare at your lips and fall in love with the way they form what you say when you talk ooooh. Your awirishrish kotomire is very beautiful like my grandmorda’s freshly painted clay  tripod stove. It cooks sweet tickling sensations in my ears laaa.
Yesterday I saw you buying ayi borbor from Aman). Herh! Aman)’s borbor is sweet ooooh. she know the right amount of dzomi to add to make it red like the new version of Yvonne Nelson. Yvonne Nelson 3.4 and couldn’t help thinking how pleasant it will be to be a fart escaping from your gbigorooo that jiggles like a maracas being played during a pentecostal praises session
Hmmm, I spend every waking moment second guessing my decision to write you this letter and right now I am second guessing my second guessing but no worries ok! Cos even if you don’t love me, I can love the two of us for us.
I love you twiiitwiii like yesterday fufu in 3 day old palm soup.

Yours sincerely,
Sincere Lormnava

*Ayi borbor — Boiled beans

* Gbigoroo— Well endowed buttocks

 
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Posted by on October 19, 2013 in Fiction

 

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Bondage

Bondage

If I tell you that I was thinking straight when I entered the chapel, I would be sure God would have at once gone back to the Exodus era, and made the earth swallow me for lying.  All of sudden life was just as stinking as a room fumigated with a village drunk’s fart generated from eating combination three day old boiled beans and eggs after a long week of constipation and hangover. Of all the things I had seen during the war in Burma, I had come to the conclusion that nothing would shock me to the core again but little did I know that I was wrong. I had suddenly found this new faith in God that was unshakable. I revered men and women of God and held them in high esteem. I would willingly offer my last pesewa to them and induce an unnecessary fasting that lacked prayer and purpose.

People who knew me before the war were most often than not, surprised at my reserved nature. Someway, somehow I think most of them still wanted me to be that vibrant, no nonsense talkative they knew. But trust me if life pinches your balls as hard as the CO did during our recruitment just to check whether we had hernia or not, you’ll learn that being tactful and reserved was the best option. My only consolation however was the fact that Akos my love waited for me all this while.

I hear when I was away, many rich men from even within our village had asked for her hand in marriage but she had vehemently rejected them. Saying Akos was a village beauty was an understatement. In fact how she fell for someone like me must indeed be added to the seven wonders of this world to make them eight. She possessed the kind of beauty that slapped you hard on the face with your running out of your skull, leaving you dumb. When we started dating the were fireflies of rumors here and there that I had charmed her but these we not strong enough to generate any confrontation with anyone.

As a member of the Elders of the church we went to, it was a normal thing to have Akos wake up at dawn on Sunday to go to the chapel to get the place ready for service and prayers.  And so when she woke me up at 3:30am to tell me she was off to the chapel, I just nodded in my sleep and the last thing I heard was her gentle footsteps and the closing of the door.  After tossing in bed for about thirty minutes or so, I decided out of the blue to go the chapel to help out with preparations for the day’s service. I put on a pair of shirt, grabbed an already chewed upon chewing stick and off I went.

I noticed the door to the chapel was locked from the inside and as I got closer I could hear soft moans instead of brooms greeting the floor and I became stiff like a carcass of a dead chicken on the refuse dump.  My mind raced back and forth like the pendulum of my grandfather’s clock. The moaning was more audible and defined when placed my ear against the door.  Wanting to confirm my innermost fears, I went round the building and found one of the window opened.  And with the little light from the lantern in the room I made out the people in the chapel.

On the floor near the pulpit was Pastor James, lying there with his manhood erect yet somehow bent like a pole-vault  in action with Dzakpa the self acclaimed village fetish priest’s mouth all around it as he stroked James’ balls.  Not far away was my Akos stark naked like snail out of its shell. In between her thighs Mary, the pastor’s wife had buried her head and licking like a dog drinking water.   One the far end of the pulpit was the new convert and Mary’s brother doing their own thing. My only luck was that I had not had anything to eat, either than that I would have puked but even at this sight I feared I was going to puke me stomach. The pain I felt within was like being pricked all over my body with pins by fifteen people.

I slid into the chapel through the window without being noticed. I hid behind one of the pew for a few seconds to gain my composure and then screamed.

Ayeekooooooo! May God punish you and conditionally. I just can’t wait to tell the whole world about this!!’

My scream startled them, and they froze. Then as if possessed they all moved towards me with a speed and courage I was surprised to react to and pinned me down. Then, Akos came over smiled at me and began to blindfold me. The more I wrestled them, the more I felt the weight of them pinning me down.

I began to cry and beg them to leave me alone, no one responded to me. Then I felt the blindfold taken off my eyes, I strained to open my eyes but my eyes lids were as heavy as lead. When I finally opened my eyes I realized I was in the hospital and had been bitten by a Hobo spider and I was still as single as 1 since no lady was interested in an old soldier who couldn’t command his cannon to shoot liquid fire.

 
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Posted by on October 4, 2013 in Poems

 

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