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My takes on issues.

2nd Open Letter to Oko Vanderpuije

2nd Open Letter to Oko Vanderpuije

Dear Efo Roozay,

First of all Happy New year to you my friend. Though I am very disappointed that I did not receive any reply to my last and first ever letter to you, I will let it be a bygone and ‘hope against hope’ (as my famous agbadza dancer Uncle Clever Thywillbedoneonearth Agbenorxevi will say) that you will reply this one. Let me first of all congratulate you on your ascension to the enviable Odum chair of the Mayor of Mayors as well as your $399 Doctorate Degree acquisition. I’m sure the beard was the deciding factor in these achievements. These day I do not see much of you. I think it is because I do not watch Television that much again. I know the higher you climb the ladder of life, the harder it becomes to see and recognize the people below but trust me I have been following your exploits. You do not know the joy I feel whenever your name pops up on my head. It is that same joy my twelve children felt when my mother of blessed memory travelled to Ho and brought 2 sachets of pure water as agbamekanu for her grandchildren.Trust me, their eyes lit with excitement as that of the trotro driver you ‘jossed’ last year when his trouser squeezed his balls from your tight grip on his trousers. Roozay the Commando mayor! Roozay the Don! The real Life Captain Haddock of Accra! Norvinye, I feel extemely elated just knowing that it is you I am writing to again. I think I will have to add it to my CV that you are my friend and not just a friend oooh but a close friend. Now let me contain my excitement and get to the reason for writing this letter.

Don Roozay, what most people do not know is that you had your 31st night watch service at the church that had the theme for 2015 as ‘This Nances must Stop’ and based on the preaching along with what the spirit revealed to you, the only way to stop the ‘Nances’ is to tackle it commando style which you are reinforcing . At the rate at which Accra is developing I’m wondering whether people can’t see it or whether it is sheer envy. Why do people always want to bring a good man down? The whole of this year, no Cholera, no flooding, crime has gone down, no hawking on the streets, all the streets have been named,evey house has a toilet, the shool no longer run shift, you run a very accountable assembly and Accra is now the epitome of what a capital city should look like. I hear other Mayors worldwide are consulting you for tips to improve their cities. Herh Oko you be Don wati! Mayor of Mayors ampaaa.

Herh, my Don Capon Oko Roro, I have heard what your detractors are saying and trust me all they can be are detractors to your agenda. What is even laughable is when they say the President should fire you. How can he fire you? A mayor who had his life’s training in The Westside of Brooklyn New York. If the president ever fires you, what happened on the streets of Brooklyn on the 15th of February 1995 will happen in Ghana. If they like they should ask Kofi Konadu Apraku. Commando Rozay, just like you I do not understand Ghanaians ooooh. Common shooting of car tyres too and they are making so much fuzz about it. Don’t they watch American movies? If the President can’t tell you to stop using a convoy and siren then what in Memuna’s name would make a lawyer feel he can make you stop? Naniama. Look it is high time we employ some Brooklyn style action levels. Herh, Oko you be Capon. You are too ‘melch’. For a lack of better description just like Tupac, all eyes are on you. You are like that cool village kid in a city school whose ironed starched uniform shirt with the spider web design with his gabardine hold my thighs pair of shorts is just had to ignore. I doff my atsatsa hat to you. You are indeed a Mayor after the President’s own heart so do not be perturbed by what people say.

Well, the boss Madam is looking for me and I have to dodge her small. Abii you know how women are. I think I have to come for some tips on how to manage her small, since you seem to be doing so fine with Mrs. Roozay. I will also need your secret formula for keeping my beard at the same level all year round. Kindly make sure you at least acknowledge receipt of this letter even if you do not deem it necessary to reply me. Till I hear from you, be strong and may the good Lord open the eyes of people to see who you really are.

Your friend,

Efo Koshi Gator of Alakple.

 

 
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Posted by on January 15, 2015 in ARTICLES

 

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Open Letter to President Mahama.

Open Letter to President Mahama.

Dear Mr. President,

Well for formality sake, let me just ask how you are doing before I proceed. I hope Lordina is keeping her promise of serving you a sumptuous bowl of Tuo Zafi and dawadawa soup every Wednesday evening as she promised to when you became President. To be honest with you I won’t say we’ve not met before and for your information, I have always admired you from afar as a celebrity. Oooh yes, a Politician celebrity. It even got to a time I was thinking of asking you to represent Ghana at the big brother house but decided against it knowing the temptations that abound in that house. I really hope you do not mind me calling you John or any other pet name I deem very necessary to keep the conversation flowing. I know by now you are beginning to wonder why at all I decided to write you this letter but don’t worry, I’m not one of you detractors. I’m writing this letter to actually say thank you for being yourself and for doing what you are doing.

Jonny boy, I get very livid when I hear people say you are not a good leader. What do they expect? This is actually what they get for not learning from their mistakes. After all, by now they should know that, the fact that the Zongo he- goat has a beard does not make it a contender for the chief Mallam position. If the people willingly make the He –goat the Mallam because of its beard then they must be ready to chew cassava leaves. Today, they say electricity, tomorrow they’ll say water, yesterday it was fuel. What at all do they want you to do before they realize that you lead a listening government? I know that as for the listening you are really doing that, it is just that you are not sure of what to do so you end up doing nothing at all.

Jonny just this week, some friends of mine were annoyed that you did not fire Elvis and Yamin for the Black Stars fiasco in Brazil. Me I just laughed ooh. If they know what you see especially when you put those your spectacles on, they wouldn’t even bother. Fine boy things no be ‘gidigidi’ ooh. Have they forgotten so soon that you are the only president in the history of our country that has an individual who is an institution on her own working for you? Do they know the value of one ‘tsoboe’ by Elvis during your campaign period? Were we not all here when Samini was charging GHC 2000 for shooting one ‘kpoe’ at musical events? Now to the issue of Yamin, after Rawlings, how often have we seen what the NDC World Bank calls ‘Yevu du agba’ say things on National Television that draws intense national discourse and goes international? As a concerned big brother, I know you didn’t want Yamin to look bad that is why you released the jet and the money to ‘Bryzil’. This is a simple boys boys move that I feel everyone should understand. Errrhm my only worry is that I hear there is an unaccounted for 1.2 million. Abeg I be your boy so make I know something when the time to share comes.

 

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Yesterday I realized that Ghanaians are very wicked people. Why are they crying foul on this issue of part of a loan being used for sanitary pads? Look Jonny boy, I agree with you, we must give sanitary pads to school girls! It’s a matter of life and death! Their futures depend on it! Mind you the pads will be imported and the GFA boss Kwasi Nyantakyi will be in charge of airlifting it with support from Elvis and Yamin! If they like they should go and burn the korle lagoon. Have they not realized that up until now our young girls in SHS have been using ‘amonsin’? They need to use pads, no, they will use pads. Now this is QUALITY GIRL CHILD EDUCATION. But Jonny Boy, kindly make sure that in the next loan, allocation is made for free champion condoms distribution for University boys or you go do boxer shorts instead? Our Better Ghana Agenda is on the right path and I encourage you not to mind our detractors. . By the way, are we importing Yazz or Always sanitary pads? Please let’s make sure they come with free pantie liners too and deodorants. I will only charge three percent commission for this advise.

 

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Jonny my guy, be for I end this letter, there is one huge favor I need to ask you. In fact you’ll make me the happiest Ghanaian if you do this for me and I won’t mind if you tax everything including my flatulence. Please and please can you please give ministerial appointments to Allotey Jacob, Sam George, Richard Quarshigah and Nii Lantey Vanderpujey. These are individuals who speak and I know that what they say is not revealed to them by flesh and blood but by a ‘higher force’ I cannot and indeed most Ghanaians cannot contend with. I believe once they become an integral part of your ministerial appointees, you are sorted. The likes of Ablakwa and Fifii Kwetey are backsliding but I believe buy the time we get into the election mood their ‘spirituality’ will be revived. By the way say hi to Vicky for me the next time you meet. I will really love to get a reply from you but I know you’ll be too busy to reply so kindly just acknowledge receipt of this letter.

Your own Concerned Countryman.

Efo Koku Gator.

 
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Posted by on July 3, 2014 in ARTICLES

 

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When The Cockerel Begins To Crow

When The Cockerel Begins To Crow

We can call our fathers whatever we want to, say whatever we want to say about them but trust me despite everything we love them to the core. Look there is no formula to parenting and most of them have made some mistakes but hey no one is perfect, not even Efo’s daughter who is called perfect. As Father’s day approaches I can’t help but share my story with you.

As boy growing up, there was nothing I dreaded more than my father’s angry voice or him clearing his throat whilst my charges for the day were being recapped by the Inspector general of the house, my Mum. I swear, you can hear my heat beat ‘kpo’ like the sound of lizards hitting the floor in a falling off a tree contest at regular intervals. Most of you would agree that, a one on one chat with our Dads was not a part of our wildest imaginations. The only conversations we had with them were question and answer sessions with our heads bowed down and our feet drawing abstract imaginary images on the floor. With my Dad for instance, whenever he was looking for something, we had to make sure the thing was where any of us saw it before we offer to help him find it. Woe betides you, when you say you saw the thing somewhere and he asks that you bring it to him and then you come back to say it is no longer there.

One of the things that baffled me and still baffles me is when my Dad would insist I stopped crying whilst he was beating me. Am I supposed to laugh in pain? What kind of impossible request too was that? Even Tom Cruise would give up on this mission for it is truly impossible. The funny thing is that my beatings always increased when I wanted to prove that I could take a beating by not crying despite the immense pain. I know most of you will say ‘ooh but we were all beaten when we were young’. Well for your information there is beating and there is BEATING. And in most cases I received the BEATING for my mischief because my Dad was an ‘Eweman’. Now, let me take my time to explain this. You see in Ghana, the best disciplinarians are fathers from the Volta region who are teachers, Military men or carpenters. The unfortunate thing however is that all ‘Ewemen’ are carpenters and so it becomes worse when he is a teacher or military personnel in addition to his born-with profession of a carpenter. And with my Dad being a teacher you can begin to sympathize with me now. Reminiscing about these I’m beginning to suspect that our parents were in a sort of competition. For a minute, just close your eyes and imagine the sounds you would hear from a cluster of semi-detached teacher bungalows that had boys within the same age group on Saturday evenings. Yeah, that was us. An emotional ensemble of beatings and cries that could compete with the Israelites’ cry to Moses in the wilderness from the various households on OLA campus.

But aside all these I can say with all authority and certainty that my Dad loved me to bits and was just trying his best to keep me on the right track. Did he overdo it at times? I will say YES, but if he were here, he will disagree but hey in such a contentious debate would you agree that you are wrong? My main problem however was how like most parents he felt I was the five or seven year old kid who he must help tie his shoe lace when I entered the university. For me it was an interesting experience. Even in the University my Dad always referred to me as a boy. Well I’m sure if he were to know some of the things I was doing and capable of doing he wouldn’t have but his perception fully changed about me one Sunday when I did the unthinkable.

Now, my Dad’s trademark insults when he was really mad at me for something I had done or said were to first say ‘Are you silly?’ and then comes the real insults that come in two folds, “stupid boy and foolish boy’. And so on this particular Sunday, my Dad discovered that I had not moved some roofing sheets on which we dried some maize to where he had asked me to. So he shouts from across the compound asking where the roofing sheets were still where they were and my response was that I felt where they were, was ideal. Wrong answer kroa.!

“Where are you?” he fumed

Immediately I emerged out of the room, I was greeted with the trademark question and insults of

“Are you silly? You feel you are now wiser than I who gave birth to you because you are in your final year in the University? Stupid boy! Fooolish boy!”.

My next action surprised everyone including myself. I burst out into a hysterical laugh that confused him and made him look white as though he had seen a ghost. My big sister came rushing out of the room and looked at me as though I had committed the unholiest of all unholy sacrileges. Their reaction made it even worse because my laughter intensified. Then my Dad found his voice and with a sterner look that could crack a palm kernel, he said,

“What are you laughing at?’

Not wanting to choke on my laughter, I covered my mouth and took in a deep breath and said

“I’m laughing because even at this age you are still referring to me as a boy”

He looks at me, shakes his head, and said

“I’m sorry but you are a Foolish and stupid young man’ and bursts into laughter himself and signals me to come over so we pack the roofing sheet together.

I’m sure my sister did not understand the effect of that moment as my Dad and I did. For it was one of those rare moments when a father realizes that his son is a man and needs to be treated as such.

 

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Posted by on June 10, 2014 in ARTICLES

 

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The man Komla Dumor and Friendship.

The man Komla Dumor and Friendship.

I’m one of those who feels disgusted at how people flood their timelines of Facebook and other social media avenues with tributes to famous people who have passed away. You can actually read through the lines that since others are doing it the also want to do it and most lack that convincing tone that the person really had a certain sort of influence on their lives.And so I will like to state categorically that this is not a tribute to Komla Dumor but more of a celebration of his life and one of the basic things he valued in life that runs across all the tributes pouring forth from people he was really close to. FRIENDSHIP.

I will not for once pretend to be an expert on Komla Dumor because I never met the man in my life. Indeed his death is now sinking in. The best I’ve come to meeting him is watching him on my TV screen or listen to his voice on radio. In so many ways his voice always reminded me of my late father ‘s voice in spite of the fact that they are both Komla. Though my father’s voice was not as rich as his, the mere fact that they both still had that uniqu unadulterated Ghanaian tone despite their exploits outside Ghana when they spoke was something I really admired.

In my decades on earth, I have lost people who are very dear to me. I have seen very close friends and relative got through real tough times and I have been down that road on several occasions. Yet I have risen up and seen people rise because of the people they surrounded themselves with.  It is said that you know your true friends when misfortune knocks you flat on the floor and in most cases this is very true.One thing I have learnt through the tributes that are pouring forth for Komla Dumor is that he is someone who valued friendship. Just reading some of the tributes or even listening to them reflect how much of a loss his demise is to those who knew him personally.

Reading Francis Doku .Anny Osabutey, Kwame Gyan, Manasseh, Maama AB’s tributes about Komla and listening to Doreen, Sahmens, Jimmy Quist, Herbert Mensah, Kojo Oppong among others makes me realize that unless you get to know someone do not stand on the sidelines and conclude that the person is arrogant or, egocentric.Get to know the person and then you can decide on what perception to hold on to. Truth be told, I’ve had that same experiences in life and the one that stands out for my was during my latter days in Nafti when, a friend Stella told me that before we became friends she saw me to be very arrogant, too knowing and egocentric. Indeed people do have these perceptions about others and trust me, I always come to the defense of my friends or people I really know when people express these perceptions about them.

The least we can do is to celebrate our friends in life before we die or they die.  Just this Saturday as I sat down with some friends reflecting on Komla’s demise, I told them that we need to keep those who we care about close to our heart and remind them every now and then of how much they mean to us. We need to respect each other and our choices despite the differences in them, learn to forgive and let go, fight our battles fairly, be graceful and grateful in our victories and love like it’s the last time you’d have the opportunity to. Komla was just human like anyone of us and might have had his other side but his death has actually projected the side of him people who were close to him really loved. My wish however was all these should have been done when he was here with us.Indeed I do have very little friends but I know my friends can attest to the fact that I do hold friendship in high esteem, unfortunately this once cost me a love relationship when the lady told me I took friendship too seriously.

I do not know how Komla has impacted on your life but the question you should be asking yourself right now is, will those who claim to be your friends have something to bring a beaming smile that will rival the sun to their faces as they grieve on your demise? How true are you with the persons you call your friends? What kind of perception do they have about you, based on your relationship with them? The era of keeping silent and waiting for someone to pass away before we celebrate the person must cease and as we also wait for our turn to die, let each and everyone of us do some critical retrospect of our individual lives and those we affect and make sure our candles are burning right.

RIP Komla Afeke Dumor.

 
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Posted by on January 20, 2014 in ARTICLES

 

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My Love Letter to Yvonne Nelson

My Love Letter to Yvonne Nelson

Dear Yvonne Nelson,

This is not the usual love letter you receive that says, you are the only mosquito in my net so bite me or your smile rivals the sun. No, this is a hard core love letter like no other. A love letter that is more about how much money we can make with the gift you have. The truth is that I never for once thought you’d be the first  to receive an letter from me this year,. Anyway happy New Year to you! Where did you spend your Christmas and New Year vacation, Dubia, Nigeria or the UK? As for me I was in Accra and Ho sampling fufu and grasscutter meat but I won’t be surprised if you’ve never tried it in the last 4 or five years. Enough of the fufu business.

I know you do not know me, so please, do not worry your brain trying to figure out where you know me from. I’m not really a fan of Ghanaian films and I’m sure you won’t recognize me as one of those who stare at you on screens.I could have decided to contact Inyanya to deliver this message for me,but I fear he’ll fall short because the guy is so fixated on your waist I’m sure he has a life size dummy of your waist to keep him sane .. What lies in your waist I’m yet to discover(though I’m not interested in that), maybe you can tell me whether it has hydraulics or ball bearings.  Jon Germain would have been my other option but I was told you said, you never had anything to do with him and he was leeching to fame via you

Now, Yvey I know you are wondering why I’m writing you this letter. Well, my main reason for writing you this sweet letter is to tell you that all the people who are bashing you for saying your skin became ‘ripe’ due to your consistent use of Queen’s cocoa butter for the past three years know absolutely nothing about human agriculture. Truth be told, if in three years you could attain this ‘ripeness’ using Queen’s cocoa butter, I suspect in the next six years you’ll become transparent. Then at least we can have the Ghanaian sequel of the movie ‘The Invisible Man’ but this time it will be the ‘Invisible Woman’ starring YVONNE NELSON. I hope you’ll produce it yourself and allow me to direct.

To be honest with you Y-von, saying your beauty  glows like a  firefly all thanks to Queen cocoa butter can be seen as contempt but whether its a dying firefly or a live one is another thing all together.Unlike you, I’ve had the direct opposite of your experience using shea butter over. And so believe me when i say, I have a better understanding of you situation than Apostle Kojo Safo in reverse. I was a complete albino some years ago but the consistent usage of shea butter from the North has reversed my hitherto ‘ripe skin’ to become dark. And I fear I’ll soon become the alternative for nightfall. Traditionally, I’m not someone who makes resolutions but after my experiences last year I have made the decision that by all means necessary I want to make as much money as I can this year. It is for this reason you and I need to sit down so we see how we can see how best we can transplant this idea into plant agriculture so farmers can use Queen’s cocoa butter to ripen fruits like banana, mangoes, pawpaw and tomatoes. Oooooh yes tomatoes are fruits and and classified as berries so please lose that frown on your face. I know what I’m talking about. Just imagine the amount of money we will make providing farmers with the product. Aaarh lest I forget, please do not disclose your supplier to anyone lest they cash in on our preposition. You know Ghanaians, most of the time do not respect copyright.

Last year, you were ranting about how sexy your legs were. With no malice intended can you please let me know the SI for the measurement of sexy legs so I can measure some legs that claim to be in the same category as yours. All I want to do is eliminate any sort of competition. We can actually make some extra cash opening clinics that measure the sexiness of legs in Ghana per your standards and the extend it to the rest of Africa and the world. Our elders say Judge not your beauty by the number of people who look at you, but rather by the number of people who smile at you and you make me smile anytime I think about you. At least that’s what my mind wants me to believe as a fact but the truth is a fact can be the truth or a lie. I’m yet to discover what kind of fact it is though. Do you know the legs are referred to as cassava sticks by some tribes in Ghana? And so literally speaking if your legs were cassava sticks what type would they be? ‘Dis na jus kwesion oooh make you no vex.’

It is said that when a once-beautiful piece of Kente cloth has turned into rags, no one remembers that Kpetoe master weavers wove it.  I believe everyone and everything has beauty in it, however it is how you exhibit this beauty that reflects your true nature. You are indeed a talent and a viable asset to me now and so I advise we act aptly on your discoveries and make money with them.  Babe its all about the cash!

I really look forward to you replying  so please grant me the opportunity of getting to know you better and transacting business with you. Cos like Pae Dea said it Money over Bridges this year.

Your lover to be,

Koku Gator I

 
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Posted by on January 8, 2014 in ARTICLES

 

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When a Goat is asked to Shave its Goatee.

When a Goat is asked to Shave its Goatee.

Over the last few days I have monitored the rants of my good friend Daniel about people’s reaction at his office to his beard and all I can tell him is, welcome to the world I knew some years ago.  I believe it is Indi Arie and Akon who sang the song “I’m not my hair” which literally is very true with most of our Ghanaian ladies since the wear weave more than their hair.  Before I digress, let me just stick to the reason of writing this note.

In the Ghanaian community, there is this colloquial prejudice about young men growing beards. As to why people find it irritating to see young men grow beards, I’m yet to hear any convincing and tangible reason for these pathetic reactions.  Some years ago I had the pleasure of telling an elder of the church I attend my piece of mind when he told me not to come to church on Sunday with my beard and that if I dare come with it, he will shave it for me. Those who know the no nonsense part of me can just imagine how I reacted. I’m sure he regretted ever raising that issue because even my Dad later on told him that even he, my father had no say in how I wanted to keep or kept my beard since I was an adult.

One of the growth traits that come with the aging of a Billy goat is the growing of a beard. So from afar we can identify a Billy goat from others. Beards are beautiful and a natural part of a man’s face. I cannot fathom fighting a daily battle against something my own body does naturally. Its masculine qualities. The fact that men can grow beards is a characteristic that nature has given us to distinguish ourselves from the female gender and add more character to our individual personality.  Before I joined my new company, one of the many things some friends and family told me was to shave off my beard before I go for an interview.  I found this laughable because at the end of the day it was the experience I had gather over the years and how impactful I was going to be that mattered most. My beard was therefore not going to hinder my capability to deliver on what was demanded of me and knowing the industry in which I worked, whether you had a beard or not was not a determinant of whether you’ll get a job or not.  Most of us wear our beards for different reasons.

Some wear their as defiance to society, some because of physiological reasons, some because they can’t afford to be going to the barbering shop every week and some because of philosophical reasons. So tell me, who are you to tell a Billy goat to loose its beard?

 
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Posted by on November 13, 2013 in ARTICLES

 

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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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