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Be Nice!!

Be Nice!!

Her head was buried in her book and so she didn’t see him approach her table. All of a sudden a shadow fell on her pages, causing her to raise her head and there he stood. He wasn’t particularly tall, he had a little goatee that looked as though it had been photoshopped onto his face. He was developing a little potbelly that would be a marvel when it matures but looked like a dilapidated yam mound in his tucked in shirt.

‘Do you mind if I share the table with you?’  He inquired,

Sylvia scanned the filled up restaurant as though he was talking to someone else, looked at him and without uttering a word, continued reading. Zee pulled the chair and sat down and signaled the waitress who brought him a menu which he scanned through. Before he placed his order, he looked towards Sylvia and spoke

‘Hi, can I get you something as a token for invading your space?’

Sylvia chuckled coyly, placed a bookmaker inside the page she was reading, placed the book on the table, gently raised her head and looked Zee directly in the eyes

Excuse me gentleman, did I tell you that I can’t afford anything here? Ooooh I look like a beggar to you eerh? Can’t a lady just be by herself without pervs like you bothering them? Mtcheeeew!!!

Zee was taken aback and embarrassed by her response to his request that he only could fake a sheepish smilein order not to respond in an equal measure, after all he was only trying to be nice after sitting at her table. Not wanting to draw more attention to himself from the other customers, Zee asked the waitress to let him know when a space was available so he could move.

For some strange reason there was no space available when the food Zee had ordered for was ready and so he was served at the table he shared with his ‘rude host’. The aroma of the food was so heavenly that it hit every damn nerve in Sylvia’s nose that her stomach rumbled like thunder. Damn if she had just been a little nice she would have had free lunch from this guy but hey the harm had already been done.  She raised her head and she locked eyes with him for a split of a second then she looked towards the entrance of the restaurant and then scanned the room. She then picked her phone from the table and began texting. After a while she let out a soft and muffled rant and a chuckle. Just then the table next to where they were sitting became free and without hesitation, Sylvia moved to it.

Zee couldn’t help but smile and shake his head at the turn of events. He tried to rerun the turn of events in his mind to see where he was at fault to warrant such a reaction from her but he just couldn’t find any.  He was contemplating approaching her when he was leaving the restaurant and dishing her a piece of his mind. He could feel himself begin to get angry. How dare she? She could’ve pushed Gandhi to violence with her acerbic tongue.  Lost in thoughts as he nibbled on the food in his mouth as he poked the one on the plate with his fork, Zee caught her at the corner of her eye getting up to hug a guy that had just walked in. Probably he might be her boyfriend, he thought to himself.  He smiled to himself mischievously and turned to glance at the gentleman who was being served a rant for being late.

Ooooooh shit! It was he’s university best friend and roommate Dan,

‘1bromo-2trichloro- 4ditwsetane’ he exclaimed!!! Dan turned and upon recognizing it was Zee got up and gave him a heavy handshake and hug amidst a volcanic laughter erupting from both of them.

Kwe agbormor when you land wey you no make I know saf? Charley you make fresh paaa ooooh’.

Daniel took a step back and sized Zee up before giving Zee another hug. At this point everyone in the restaurant was staring at the two who were somehow oblivious to the fact that they were loud.

Daniel then turned to Sylvia whose face had turned as pale as the flesh of an unripe mango and said, ‘Cuz, meet my homeboy Zee, the one you said you were dying to meet.’

 

 
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Posted by on June 17, 2017 in Fiction

 

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‘Sofi’- The Uncircumcised Curser

‘Sofi’- The Uncircumcised Curser

When a good man is planted in his grave, he does not germinate into a tree to give shade to his loved ones. Today we stand at this cemetery weeping as we lay to rest one of the realest people I have ever known in my entire life. The choir sings melodious tunes as though they we sent down by God himself as part of his disbelief that my dear friend has passed away. People from far and near have come to pay their homage to this great man. Tributes have been poured forth from mouths like water gashing out of the rock Moses struck in the wilderness. Even the President of the country is right here at the cemetery with us. Cameras are clicking and reporters are scribbling things in their notepads. This is indeed the funeral of a national hero. The priest raises his hand and a dead silence falls on the cemetery. Then with the trowel in his hands, he digs into the earth, pours the dirt on the polished oak wood coffin and says

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust.

Well, I’m sure if wishes were horses, my friend ‘Sofi’ would wish his funeral was what I described above. But alas, just six of us are present to lay him to rest. The priest who I had to pay to perform the burial rites, the four young men who are the pallbearers, me and his one-eyed dog that looks like offspring of a bow-legged crossed-eyed bitch and one of her stray and starved lovers.  I met ‘Sofi’ as he’s popularly called throughout the village when I was in Middle School form 2. We were just being ourselves that day in the classroom when this man walks into the classroom. He looked dark and hard bodied like a copra that had its husk peeled off the shell and rubbed with a little bit of palm oil. When his shadow fell on the doorway, it was like a sculptured dark cloud had just been dropped right there. He walked in, scanned the room and walked to the empty desk at the back of the class and sat down without uttering a word. We looked at each other’s faces puzzlingly as though the answer to the question of who he was would pop out from someone’s face.  Then our class teacher entered the class and introduced him as our classmate. As the term progressed he and I became friends. I was the brains and he was the muscle. However he’s association with me had absolutely no effect on his intellectualism as he exhibited during one of our technical skills lessons.  A shovel was drawn on the blackboard and he was asked to identify what tool if was. Without hesitation, he shouted ‘Sofi’ with the confidence of a politician who was sure he had won an election and a smile that was like a piece of roasted yam that was puffed open by heat. The whole class erupted into a laughing zoo and thus, the name Sofi was conferred on him

The pursuit and the desire to make my life a better one took me out of the village whilst Sofi remained but whenever I was in town I made it a point to visit him at his home. Six months before his death, I heard that Sofi had won the lottery. It was said that, on the day he cashed in his win, he had a big party at home and had three fat Billy goats killed and prepared. Laughing gourds of foaming palmwine were order from Agbeko the famous tapper and the famous Minamiwoe wanyo boborbor troupe came to perform.  It is said that even the coronation party of the village chief was no match for Sofi’s party. It was under this party that my friend Sofi laid eyes on Dzidedi and like the saying goes, Wine comes in at the mouth and love comes in at the eye. On my next visit to the village, I was told Sofi was getting ready to be married. Which Sofi?  is it the Sofi I know who avoided women as a plague because his love advances was rejected by the young national service teacher posted to our school when we were in form four? How could a forty-eight year old man want to marry a twenty-two year old girl? Weren’t there more mature single women around? Truth be told, when I met Dzidedi, I was awed as though I had just seen the best magic trick performed. Her gait was rhythmic, her buttocks jiggled like that maracas during a charismatic praise session with each step she took and her breast looked firm like two freshly dug yam mounds laying side by side in the loose blouse she wore. And I told myself I understood why Sofi had fallen in love.

I watched in amazement how she came to sit of Sofi’s laps, played with his greying hair, tickled his ear lobes and both giggled. Instinctively I felt there was something weird about the relationship and when Sofi was seeing me off, I told him how I thought it was not a good idea to get married to Dzidedi. One could virtually see fumes coming out Sofi’s ears and nostrils like the exhaust pipe of Busy Boy’s bone shaker that traveled from the village to Ho twice every week. He accused me of being jealous of his success and progress in life and that I had just proven to him that I was not worthy of his friendship. I apologized to him for poking my nose into his affairs and went home.  And that was the last time I saw or spoke to my friend until I saw him hanging from a nylon rope on the huge mango tree at the entrance of the path that led to the farms.

It is said that, Dzidedi and her young lover duped him of his money under the pretense of helping him invest it in some gold business. Then one afternoon, he caught them in bed and when he confronted them, she ridiculed him publicly by calling him a foolish, impotent uncircumcised bed wetter.   Not able to withstand the laughing-stock he had become in the village, Sofi decided to end his life but not before he had walked stark naked from one end of the village to the other with his huge uncircumcised manhood and drooled scrotal sacs dangling left and right as he rained curses on Dzidedi and her lover saying that even the holiest of waters blessed by the Pope and angels would not render the curses impotent.

 
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Posted by on April 25, 2017 in Fiction

 

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Dear Crush

Dear Crush
Dear Crush,
The first time I saw you, time froze and the sun disappeared
Your breathless charm touched me as your radiance spun me
Round and round in a dance of celestial intoxication
You have a body that can make an atheist believe in God
just long enough to say ‘ God damn it! What a beauty!’
and my life which was in black and white images found colour
All of a sudden twinkle twinkle was no longer little
So my heart convulsed and rammed against my breastbone
Exposing itself to you like the buttocks of the morning sun
Stretching itself out of its sheets of clouds
You stole my heart, tucked it in your breast pocket
and there was nothing I could do about it
For I felt it would be safer with you than me
Even my shadow found me unworthy to follow
And so it run after you. Some shadow I have
I told myself you were not from this world
Hell no! How can you?
then I found we had lot in common
You breathe in oxygen just like me
Now! That’s a 4G connection
Dear Crush,
The first time you mentioned my name
I could swear you had converted this sinner into a saint
I felt like that song without punchlines that was a chart topper
Just before I could think of a response, you deflated my joy’s potbelly
When you said ‘Move out of the way’
How could I move when you got me rooted to my spot
Damn! You knew my name
How did it taste on your tongue?
Was it a brew of fresh cinnamon tea from virgin dew with fresh goat milk ?
or was it spicy like a bowl of your favourite palm soup holding fufu hostage?
Did it awaken all your senses?
I imagined your first name dancing next to my last name
so I hang on to the music of your every laughter my ears steals from the wind
As it reverberates through the chambers of my heart
It is rhythm to my soul and a groove to sway to
You’ve got style and good vibes
You are my overtime dance to a slow tune
Call me silly
Throw in irresponsible
Or maybe even mad
Truth is, I just adore you
And If this is blind love, I don’t want to see the light
Dear Crush,
We are now friends
I do not know how it happened but we are
your effect with me is beautiful as a baby’s giggle
Your eyes are the only Christmas lights I love to see all year long
I swear I have kissed you a thousand times in my dreams
You have dragged me to places only angels dream of
I carry your sweet smell with me whenever we hug
Until we meet again and I refill from another hug
I think about you
Like lips think about smiling
Like the sun thinks of shining
Like wind thinks of blowing
Like the stigma thinks of pollen grains
Like pollen grains think of tiny birds
Like birds think of bees
Like bees think of their hives
And like hives think of Honey
Oooh Honey, I think about you once every day
And you never leave my mind
©Selikem T.K Geni 2016
 
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Posted by on June 21, 2016 in Poems

 

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A tot of my Soul

A tot of my Soul

Two days ago I cried for young girl who had spread her wings as she did the fire dance

For very soon she would wish she could suffocate her flames

because too many men want to stick their hands into her stove

Even before she can learn to harness the power of her flames

Yesterday, I wailed for a young boy who did not know the power of his tongue and hands

He did not believe he had to speak life to his dreams as he builds them with his hands

Rather he grasps at the straws of other people’s dreams

Because he does not recognize the keys to unlock his dreams in his hands

This morning, I saw the pride of a man dragged through the market

With his fellow men lined up at both ends of the street

poking sticks at his dying dignity with charred compassion

which was poured into a gutter so it be washed away with the debris

This afternoon, I saw a mother’s compassion turn cold and ugly

She said the child was not her’s so she could not be his fairy godmother

Not even for a second so humanity could have hope

After all everyone for himself, God for us all

This Evening, I sit and mourn for my generation

Our present stares down on us as though we have a bad youthful marriage

Sons and daughters of warrior kings and queens who mark time rather than move forward

So let me pour out a tot of my soul to you so you gulp it down

Let the syncopation of memories’ heart beat draw you closer to the truth

Let the smell of burnt memories remind us of who we were and are supposed to be

For we are a generation of greatness now struck down by the disease of self-centeredness

What happened to our communal spirit that made us sit very close enough that we touched each others’ needs?

What happened to tearing a soft part of yourself and handing it over to others

Watch as they mold it and hand it over to you better than they found it?

What happened to the good life being the smiles we placed on each others’ faces

And the joy we etched deep in souls?

So let me pour you a tot of my soul to gulp down

Let me make it two and maybe, just maybe you’ll get drank enough

for this poem to resound in the ears of your heart

©Selikem Tenu. K Geni

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on June 3, 2016 in Poems

 

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Who we are

Who we are

This is for the one whose pride now lives at the refuse dump

And is constantly receiving hair cut advice from the vultures

The one whose dignity has been trampled on so many times

its closest relationship is with the patch ground on which it lies

This is for the one who has been told many times that beauty run

in the opposite direction when they first met

and that her ugliness drives the devil to accept Christ as his Lord and personal Savior

This is for the one whose fears have become visions

tied to the cloth of reality

This is for the one who feels lost in the maze of life

And feels his progress is taking him nowhere

This is for you

This is for me

This is for us

Wait!

Stop!

Breathe in!

Breathe out!

Smile!

Relax!

Take a good look at yourself, you are here for a reason

Let self-love be the wind the glides your sail to the land of self-worth

Gather your tools and make love to the fertile soils of your dreams

Let the refuse dump be compost for the flowers of your dreams

to bloom and pour perfume forth on the pestilence of ill advice.

Let your dignity’s domineering shadow be the only thing the patch ground sees

Fuel that light in your heart and let your beauty shine

For you are beautiful than you imagine

And please remember, you are the child of the centipede

Losing a limb will never cripple you.

 
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Posted by on April 29, 2016 in Poems

 

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Hush

Hush

Dedicated to all the Women who are QUIET about their ABUSE
Hush, woman don’t you cry
I am the last person to whom you will say goodbye.
So she cocoons herself in pain she tells no one about

 

Hush Woman don’t cry.
I love you that is why I beat you when you go wrong
I did not pay so much bride price for you to make such flimsy mistakes
So she accepts pain as love and believes she deserves it all.

 

Hush Woman don’t cry
I am the Lord of this house and so my word is final
Any action that contradicts mine deserves punishment
I am your god and you must bow to me
So she worships him out of fear and calls it love

 

Hush Woman don’t cry
You deserve all these, you stupid slut
Don’t even think of leaving me
If you do, I will hunt you down like the rat you are and kill you
This is not a threat, it is an assurance.
So she locks herself up in this doorless jail, believing she is unworthy of true love

 

Do not hush woman, please cry out.
Do not let your silence be where you bury your pain
Good times are not meant to be seasonal
Unlock that shackles in your mind because you deserve every bit of happiness
Break out of that cocoon of pain and fly out spreading those beautiful wings
There is nothing to be ashamed of, so speak out
Before your hush and hidden tears, leads you to the grave

Selikem Tenu K. Geni 2016 ©

 
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Posted by on April 22, 2016 in Poems

 

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The Ugly Duckling

The Ugly Duckling

Aside the new building that had sprang up in place of the mud house that housed his family, the old neighborhood had not experienced any significant changes. The road was still as dusty as always and Castle du Assiam as they called back in the days still sat on top of the hill casting a menacing shadow on the other houses at the foot of the hill. The new paint work made it stand out like the clean shaven head of a big headed child. Memories began to trickle down Kuuku’s mind and all he could let out was a chuckle. As the taxi wiggled itself up the hill like a pepper worm, it’s body began to vibrate due to the bass from the music blurring out of the house. He remembered how he and his seven other siblings in their old but new dresses will line up at the gate of the Assiams during festive seasons to receive gifts of sweets, biscuits and squash from Mrs. Assiam. He had always admired that woman and it was going to be great seeing her again. He just was not sure if she was going to make him out. As kids he remembered always being the bone of contention between Sika and her friends. There were times he even got ganged up on and beaten by her elder brother Jones and his friends just for being around her. One time it got so bad that, his Mother made him promise to stay away from any of the Assiams after he got home with a torn uniform and had two missing front teeth. Up till date he still remembered what she said that night as she nursed his wounds. ‘Kuu, when the lizard and its cousin the gecko decided to have a party a butterfly must avoid attending it no matter how enticing the invite is.’ Secretly he still maintained the friendship with Sika till she left for the UK after primary six and that was eighteen years ago. When he received a friend request from her two years ago on Facebook, he was not sure whether it was actually her. Even after accepting her friend request it would take him another two months to respond to messages she had sent and that was when their friendship rekindled. Over the next year they skyped almost every day with each other, and exchanged tons of messages via whatsapp. It was as though they were trying to cover lost grounds. Gradually his emotions began to gravitate towards love and so he told her how he felt about her. When she told him she couldn’t be with him, he felt sad but grateful that they were still very good friends. Deep in his heart he wished that things would change between them and was willing to be patient for this to happen. Two days ago, he received a phone call from an unknown local number and it was Sika. She said she had just arrived in Ghana and was inviting him for a party at her father’s house that weekend.

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Truth be told Kuuku was not sure whether he was doing the right thing or not. Going to this party meant opening closets he was not ready to open yet but as fate would have it Sika had insisted that he come at all cost because she had something important to tell him. Just as he got out of the taxi a saloon car speed towards him and nearly rammed him into the gate. Then a head pops out from the driver’s side and hauls cusses at him ‘idiot do you think this is your bedroom’. As the car drove past him into the house, Kuuku realized it was Max, the guy who was madly in love with Sika when they were kids. Indeed nothing had changed about his attitude. Smiling coyly to himself Kuuku entered the house and after scanning through the crowd walked to an empty table and sat down. A waiter walked up to him and asked what he cared for. Then a sweet voice gave a response from behind him

‘A mixture of Orange juice and pineapple juice spiced with a shot of vodka will do’ replied Sika to the waiter who was taking Kuuku’s order.

Smiling, Kuuku got up from his chair and hugged her knocking a few glasses off the table. He pulls away from the hug, looks at her from head to toe, signals her to do a three sixty turn and hugs her passionately again

‘God you look so stunning girl. Now I’ve realize how much I have missed you’ he whispered into her ears

Sika was lost in her own world in his arms. He smelled really nice and looked more handsome than she had imagined. Indeed this was the right time to be in his arms. Just then the music went off cutting and blurring out of the speakers was Max’s voice.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, Can we now have a speech from the lady of the moment my lovely wife Sika. Sika where are you? We are waiting.’

Wife? Wow! Reality has a way of handing rude awakening to the dreamy ones Kuuku thought to himself. Now everything was making sense. Embarrassed by Max’s attitude, Sika wished the ground would open its mouth and swallow her. What would Kuuku think of her now? As the crowd turned towards her and started clapping, Max rushed to her side and virtually dragged her to the microphone stand. With the microphone now in her hand she looked towards where Kuuku was standing, but he was no longer there. Her heart sunk and her feet began to wobble.

‘Errrm, Ladies and Gentlemen thanks for honoring my invitation. To set the records straight Max is my ex-husband who I think has had a little too much to drink. With that out of the way, Let’s have fun. DJ let the music play.’

Sika dropped the microphone and dashed towards the gate screaming

‘Kuuku! Kuu! Kuuku! Wait! Don’t goooooo…’

Just as she got to the gate she saw a taxi speed off. Overwhelmed by what had happened she broke down in tears. Now she has lost the one true love of her life thanks to Max. Just then she felt a tap on her shoulder she turned and it was Max. She felt like tearing him into pieces and scattering it at the four corners of the earth so that no one could piece him together. There are indeed some devils in one’s life that stick like a shadow.

‘Gosh, please get out of my life. Dear Lord, let this divine representative of stupidity vanish’ she yelled tearfully.

As she walked past him, Max grabbed her arm violently and she flinched in pain, then out of nowhere appeared Kuuku.

‘Charley, let go of her, you are creating a scene’ Kuuku retorted

Sika broke free from Max’s grip and rushed into Kuuku’s arms. Her tears rolled off her beautiful cheeks and hit his chest like pellets from a gun. He could feel a mixture of contradicting emotions emanating from them and somehow felt glad that she indeed had feelings for him that she was no longer willing to hide. Then from nowhere a punch landed squarely on his face from Max. Instinctively he Kuuku also threw a punch in Max’s direction but with Sika stuck in between them, he could not hit the target the way he wanted to. He rushed to Sika’s rescue and virtually picked her from the floor. A small crowd had gathered in front of the house during the scuffle and among them was Mr. Assiam. He signaled Kuuku to bring Sika into the home. As the two love birds walked past him, he smiled. Just then Max made a move towards the house but was stopped by Mr. Assiam.

‘Max, go home! You’ve caused enough mayhem for a night.’ With this said he turned and entered his house.

 
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Posted by on October 30, 2015 in Fiction

 

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HOPE

HOPE

Today I sat a few meters away from the door
And saw night birth day out of dawn’s amniotic fluid
Like the naked flamed buttocks of the early rising sun
Emerging from the bedsheets of clouds
Something lit up inside me
Then the beats of my heart and the rhythm of my thoughts
Caused the hands of my emotions to fondle my heart
Finally, I can feel it within my reach
My thoughts blush as it walks down their street
Anticipation drools from the mouth of my woken expectation
Hope has just found another victim and has wrapped its beautiful arms around me
images

 
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Posted by on July 28, 2015 in Poems

 

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LOVERS’ MUSING

LOVERS’ MUSING

Accusation

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Yes! I have mad love for this guy

Rumor has it that he has been lying to me

The wise girls have advised me to stay off

But my heart loves the lies because the truth hurts

So I hear he has another lady and I am just a side chick

if so, then I am the perfect missing rib!

The darkness told me the reason why I only see him late at night is because he spends his day with his perfect chick

I heard her once as she passed by my window

She speaks impeccable English!

The scent of her perfume filled my room for about 30 minutes

I knew it was her because I always smell the perfume on him anytime he sneaks into my blanket after she leaves

The click of her heels proves without a doubt that she is strong

But as long as my baby has never mentioned her,

I choose to be pampered with his lies

He once promised to marry me

But since then, he has not mentioned it

Just last week, I heard the birds singing about the 1000 carat diamond ring he proposed with,

But he didn’t fail to touch my body the very night he got engaged

That night he kissed me hard like never before

So I don’t care if he buys her the whole world

I love that fear that stops him from telling me the truth

I know I am irresistible!

I don’t blame him!

That is why he can’t hurt me with the truth.

Keep whispering the lies deep inside my ears…

Let me feel your lying tongue

Let me see your desperate eyes fixed on my body

I want to feel the heat from your body burn mine with your lies!

Never speak the truth… don’t hurt me!

 

RESPONSE

KWEKU  serene-edith-peterson-watson

I’m no cheat, so I wonder why her mind would journey that far?

My heartbeat speaks the truth of what she means to me

So why will I pour bile on this delicacy of true love?

Truth be told, her inner beauty and strength makes it impossible

To find solace in another’s arms

Her physical beauty the song to which day and night dance to

The taste of my name on her lips each time she mutters it under her gentle breath

When we kiss is like fresh unleavened bread dipped in virgin honey on the lips of a hungry soul

It’s true I do have a friend who speaks impeccable English

And I do know her perfume is strong that it resurrects my asthma

But that is nothing compared to Nana Yaa’s lips that make speech blush

And eloquence lose its footing.

Does she for a second know how missing her feels like?

Water becomes tastelessly tasteless and my thoughts refuse to bloom

My heart beats squeal, squeak and the waters from my eyes’ fountains gash out

Yet orchid blossom of my love for her blossoms

So tell me what sort of man will pamper his soul with lies

And still make his heart feel the way I feel about her?

How can I buy her supposed rival the whole world when she, Nana Yaa is my whole world?

So now I fear she wouldn’t see the real essence of what we have.

How can she see past all these lies of the ‘wise’ when she allows her heart to be ruled by an irrelevant cacophony of questions she has the true answers to?

I wish I could quiet all her doubts created by rumors that are nothing but rumors

Gag all the anxiety she feels and let the silence of our love sing

Time is the cloth that binds us to the back of fate

And loyalty is the walking stick that makes our love walk steady.

Tell her she is the rhythm and melody to my music

The only mosquito in my net (please continue biting)

And without her I’m as useless as ‘eue’ without que in spelling QUEUE

 

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Written by Rita Nana Yaa Agyakwa & Selikem Kweku Tenu Geni. (c)

 

 
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Posted by on August 29, 2014 in Poems

 

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WORDS

WORDS

Let us get drunk today

Drunk on the words of our fathers’ echoing silence

Words that were spoken to them under the baobab tree by the fireside

Words that were sang by the warriors that that returned

Bruised and defiled by war of hearts

Words as sacred as the cries of a corpse

Words as priceless as the tears of our mothers when we were born

Words that glorify the beauty in ugliness of our fight for survival

Yes open your mouth and let them out

Like thousands of bees homing to a hive

Let our thoughts and emotions ferment

and let us brew these words within our beings

And speak them into being

For we are children of mother’s only husband

And we do not search for the dark fowl in darkness

PowerofWords

 
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Posted by on August 13, 2014 in Poems

 

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Agbenorxevi, ‘The Cat’ With Nine Lives

Agbenorxevi, ‘The Cat’ With Nine Lives

As the bus left the terminal in Accra, Agbenorxevi, could not help but wonder whether this trip was going to be his very last one or not. All through the journey he avoided eye contact with any of the other occupants of the eighteen seater bus by hiding his eyes behind his two inches thick tad dark tinted spectacles. Secretly in his heart, he blessed the man who invented them because he could see the eyes of the others when they looked at him yet they couldn’t tell whether he was looking back at them or not. To avoid the temptation of being drawn into any form of conversation, he turned up the full volume of his Walkman, that the lady seated beside him turned twice with an expression that asked whether he wanted to go deaf or was just plainly mad without even speaking those words which he thought was very diplomatic on her side. Somehow he caught her nodding and tapping to the Kojo Antwi tune blurring out of his headphones and this made him smile.

After almost eight years of self-imposed exile, it felt a little bit awkward heading back to Ho, the town in which he had grown up. His history in that town were as huge as the spear heads of giants poking out of the dead bodies of those decayed years that it was impossible for anyone who was new in town not to hear or know a little bit about the exploits of Agbenorxevi. When the bus got to ‘Kponvie’ police barrier, Agbenorxevi’s heart began to beat like the tick tocking of a 1956 malfunctioning omega engine wrist watch and his life in Ho began to roll on the wheel of his thoughts that it felt as though he was reliving it. He could feel his body stiffen as the policeman scanned through the vehicle and stared at him for more seconds than he had stared at the other occupants. He could feel a sting in his conscience that made him nearly surrender himself to the emotions swelling up within him. He knew his goatee and the glasses he wore somehow made him look suspicious but these policemen were used to seeing people dressed like him come from Togo and Niger in search of a better life in Ghana and so felt a little bit secured. Moreover his appearance had changed over the years.

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He was not born with a wooden spoon in my mouth for if that were to be the case it would have been a major blessing and the undoing of all the . He was told his mother was a mentally retarded woman who got impregnated by Mr. Nobody. Not wanting to sound blasphemous though, he could count the number of times as a child he had bragged that aside Jesus Christ, he was the only miracle baby conceived by a virgin mother. The only difference between Jesus and I was that, instead of an angel visiting and informing his mother about conceiving him, it was a shameless and ruthless he-goat of a man who decided to rape her, hence my coming into this world. As he grew older, he realized that his mother gave birth to him in the huge gutter along the market like a goat and died shortly afterwards since she had no one, What even sank Agbenorxevi into the base of self-pity and disillusionment was the fact that his mother’s family wanted nothing to do with a bastard conceived by a lunatic. He was also told that initially he was left in the gutter unattended to so he could die because he was considered an abomination but after six hours of starvation and his defiance to live, some of the youth around the market decided to stone him to death with his crime being that he was conceived by a mad woman. It took the intervention of some catholic nuns who run an orphanage to save him from them.

Growing up at the orphanage was hell on earth, not that he had been to hell before but based on the passion with which the nuns described it to them, a bigger proportion was synonymous to hell. Agbenorxevi experienced at first-hand what real bullying was. His first encounter was when he chanced upon Maxwell the oldest boys at the orphanage smoking ‘sigliku’. At age four he was already the bottom of all jokes and name calling and so catching Maxwell was a plus for him. He tried to blackmail Maxwell by threating to report him to Sister Maria, the no nonsense nun that even the Brother who was the head of the orphanage stutter like the sound of a chain of flatulence let out from a man with severe running stomach. Instead, his threat earned him a bloody mouth and Maxwell accusing him of smoking ‘sigliku’. That evening, Sister Maria made sure extra pepper was added to Agbenorxevi’s soup and one could hear ‘usuuuuuush husssuuuuh’ like the last loud coughs of the engine of the converts corn mill before it comes to a halt. From then onwards every little thing was blamed on him especially by Sister Marie. Sister Marie was very petty in structure but what she lacked in the physical seemed to have multiplied in her character. Among the kids of the orphanage, there was a joke about how Sister Marie could crack open a palm kernel with her buttocks and this translated to her nickname “Bum Nut Cracker”. When she finally got to know guess who she blamed as the orchestrator, Agbenorxevi. It was not as though he was not the culprit some of the things he was accused of, but it just got to a point that trying to prove his innocence was as useless as a gift of chewing stick to a toothless old lady. And so, just as Christians attribute everything evil to the devil, everything that went wrong in the orphanage was attributed to Agbenorxevi and Sister Marie was always there to do justice with her punishment.

At age sixteen he was booted out of the orphanage because he was considered a bad influence on the younger ones and based on the fact that he was standing his grounds. Armed with 7000 cedis that he was given by the other Sisters, he dragged himself with his back pack that contained a pair of Khaki shorts and an over-sized Lacoste he had received the previous year as Christmas present out of the opharnage into an unknown world. And so his life of crime and double crossing began after he was robbed off his personal belongings and was forced to join the notorious ‘Kpetonku’ gang and it was based on his exploits the he was named ‘The Cat’ . A name revered the people in the ghettos within Ho. As the vehicle got closer to the sign post that read ‘Welcome to HO’, Agbenorxevi became conscious of his surroundings, let out a heavy sigh and made the sign of the cross as the vehicle veered into the town. In his heart and mind, he knew only God would save him from what lay before him…

 

 

 
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Posted by on July 15, 2014 in Fiction

 

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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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My Chronicles 3 (Life of a battered young woman)

My Chronicles 3 (Life of a battered young woman)

PASTOR FRED.

Its crazy how writing about my story with Pastor Fred bothers me a lot but this is a major chapter in my life that I need not over look because at the end of the day, it is my prayer that any of you who finds yourself in this kind of situation will at least know that you are neither the first nor the last to experience this. I have read most of your reactions and I know what most of you feel for me is neither sympathy nor pity. Most of you feel I’m stupid to allow myself go through all these things just like my mother did and there is no way I hold these against you. Somehow, her experiences made her more inclined towards the belief that her problems and my problems in relation to men was more spiritual that psychological hence her decision to introduce to Pastor Fred. Our relationship started out like a lost sheep and a caring shepherd who had found the once priced sheep in the most devastating state and trying everything within his power to restore the sheep to its past glory. With the zeal I was working with in the house of the lord, the Church snatched me up to groom me into a wife, teach me ministry etiquette, and give me face time with my pastor so I could “counsel” with him and make sure my decisions were ran through him before I did anything major in life.

To be frank, Fred was a rock star of a growing church…worshipped by many. He came from a gambling and petty background that fed his appetite for the carnal things according to him. He got “saved” and sought a leadership position and was a very talented guy who rose through the ranks quickly. He was very comfortable in the spotlight and extremely charismatic and he actually seemed like a nice guy on the surface though some have reported he can be a jerk…but so can we all at times. Normally I would not date a baldhead man who had a potbelly, which was competing with his head for attention but getting to know (at least that’s what I thought) him more made his body structure the least of my worries. He has this fashion sense that was on point and very admirable. Most often in my conversations with him, he’d tell me how he felt very blessed and privileged to be ‘saved’ just like certain Bishops and Arch Bishops who had similar backgrounds as his. And most often than not, there was this eternal glow that came from within him and shone in his eyes when he talked about his dream of becoming on of the top Pastors in the country.

Gradually our relationship developed into one of admiration and affection towards each other and since he was not married it felt prudent to start a relationship that will lead to marriage. The initial idea was to practice a no sex before marriage but as ‘body no be firewood’ so we found ourselves shagging left right and center like a maracas in the hands of a charismatic praises leader. At church it was an open secret that Pastor Fred and I were dating and this drew its fair share of admiration and envy but to me this was the life I felt God was preparing me for. Little did I know that there was a huge catch to this when he was exposed hiding behind the veneer that he was something he wasn’t.

It started one Sunday afternoon. I had gone to his place to prepare him lunch and supper as had become the ritual. Half way through preparing the foods I heard a knock on the door. I left everything I was doing, went to open the door only to see an angry looking at the door. When I told her he was not yet back from church after she enquired about his whereabouts, then she half shoved me out of the way as she made her way towards the bedroom. I was confused. Who was this? Was this a family member I did not know? Was this a test to see how humble or rude I was? Ten minutes afterwards Fred came home from church and before I could report to him he speed off to the bedroom. What I saw when I entered the bedroom was indeed more than a shock. Here was Fred on his knees begging the lady for forgiveness and the only response he got were to heavy slaps on both cheeks. When I rushed to defend him, he smacked me on the face and asked that I leave the room. The lady went into the kitchen and dumped all the food I was preparing into the dustbin and walked out. I will later on discover that this was a lady Fred had promised marriage, duped and dumped just two months into our relationship after he verbally assaulted me for coming to his rescue. He called me worthless, stupid, an animal that deserved no mercy and in some instances found a way of even insulting me in his preaching. During mid week service after this incident, told the congregation that the Lord had given him directives that the President of the Youth Ministry, me was to do dry fasting for two weeks in anticipation of a fruitful youth week celebration since as the leader, I needed to be sanctified and holy to lead ‘my people’ during that period.

The straw that broke ‘this camel’s’ back was when he called me an idiot in front of other church members for disagreeing with him on a program line up for the youth ministry of which I was the President. When this was raised at a church leadership meeting he charmed his way out of the truth. In some weird twisted way, the other leaders got sprinkled with fairy dust and it blinded them, and I was deemed as crazy, grabbing for attention, and trying to tear down God’s work.  Certain people who I held in high esteem and confided in them will later on betray me by concocting lies about me to the extent that one Sunday half way through his preaching he stopped and said that the spirit of the lord had directed him to break up with me and also demote me as the president of the youth ministry. According to him there were some ancestral demons that were working through me to bring down the church and that I needed prayers. I was hauled by three strong ushers for the whole church to pray for me when I refused to come forward for prayers when he demanded I do so. After this, I consulted a lawyer friend of mine who agreed to sue Pastor Fred and the church for abuse on my behalf. When the affidavit was served them they went to see my mother to ask me to drop the charges with the promise of reinstating me as a member of the church, president of the youth ministry and fiancée Fred. I found this to be very laughable and told my mother to go tell them that they could offer me the whole world; I would still go ahead to sue them. When the saw that I was not barging, they counter sued me for financial malfeasance and fabricated stories on how I had duped some members of the church. As I write this, the cases are still in court and they do not look like winning anything. Next week I’ll tell you about how everything changed for me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on April 11, 2014 in Fiction

 

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My Chronicles 2 (Life of a battered Young Woman)

My Chronicles 2 (Life of a battered Young Woman)

JAMES.

There are times you need to check the pieces of your life and tick some off as mistakes that should have never occurred and this chapter is one of them. Anytime I think about my relationship with James, I do not know whether to curse him or curse the day I allowed him into my life. I met James during the first half of the first semester of my first year in the University. Now, Ideally he wasn’t the one I wanted to date. I had wanted to date Eric a colleague, but Eric was also interested in Sitso my now best friend. Since I couldn’t have Eric, I decided to make sure that he also didn’t get to date Sitso by telling her lies how Eric had confided in me that the only reason he had befriended her was to get into her pants and dump her later. Up till now I still can’t believe she swallowed it line, hook and sinker because Eric was and is still just an adorable cool, calm and collected guy who would place anyone’s happiness above his when he deeply cared about the person. These days I see how Sitso struggles with her relationships and I wish I just didn’t separate her from Eric. Well, enough of the regrets. Let me continue with the James story. James was a year ahead of us and like any ‘adventurous guy, plunged himself into the whole ‘September rush’ thing. His initial target had swerved him so he fell on his back up plan ‘me’. The initial idea was to drain him of some cash by pretending I was interested because the school fees was expensive and I had to struggle for my upkeep in school. James however unlike me, comes from a well to do home and being the first child and only boy, his parents made sure he had virtually everything he wanted. We were friends for a couple of weeks and then he started taking me out to dinners and social events and out of the blues proposed to me. I told him I needed time to think about it and he agreed to give me time to do so. One day as early as 3:00 the strumming of a guitar outside our door woke my roommate and I up. We looked at each other confused as to who would be playing a guitar right outside our door at that time of the night. Then he began to sing Brandy’s ‘Have you ever’. In all honesty if Brandy had sang the song the way he sang it, it would have made absolutely no sale but the mere fact that he thought of an idea of singing to me at dawn and not caring if he woke up the whole hostel, sent a sweet sensation down my spine. I got out of bed smiling like a lunatic set free from the asylum, unlocked the door and planted a fat kiss on his lips that germinated into a yell of joy that attracted some cusses and insults from sleepy mouths.

The first month of our relationship was like a honeymoon. I was served breakfast in bed and treated like a real lady then it began to the envy of most of my other female colleagues. The sex was great too. I mean the kind that had your toes curl and tingle just by thinking about it. He did know how to make me come in many ways that one. On weekends we will visit his parents or younger sister and boy oooh boy did the love to have me around. During the second month things changed drastically. He warned me about getting close to any other guy at the hostel and that apart from his room I was not to go into any other guy’s room. At first I thought it was a joke but when he refused to eat the supper I had prepared for him but rather dumped it with the plate into the dustbin because he saw me coming out of Eric’s room I knew he was serious. There was this particular night that together with some other guys including Eric, they decided to go out for two parties they had been invited for. Around mid-night the whole hostel was up because on their way to the hostel James had picked a fight with Kwabena saying he suspected Kwabena was flirting with me. It had gotten to that point where if Eric had not practically dragged Kwabena away there was going to be a bout. That was when I discovered that anytime James had some alcohol his mental faculty switched to crazy mood. The next morning he left the hostel without a word to me and I thought he just needed some space to clear his mind. Around noon I was in my room when I heard a drunk James screaming my name on the corridor.

‘Gina Gina your whore, idiot! You think you can play with my heart eeerh? Today I teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.’

I rushed and locked my door. He tried to open the door but when he realized it was lock started banging on it and screaming

‘ Herh! Open this door right now if you do not want more trouble. I break this door oooh! Ashawo!’

I was so embarrassed all I could do was sit on my bed with my head between my thighs and weep. True to his words he broke down the door and with his belt in his hands, he gave me the beating of a lifetime. When he was exhausted. He half picked himself up and left the room. Now I know you are asking yourself whether there was no one apart from us at the hostel. Well there were others there, and they refused to come and stop him because I had stopped talking to most of them when they tried to warn me about James. Later that evening Sitso came from home to visit me. Well I do not know whether someone called to inform her of what James had done to me but one look at me and she decided it would be better if I follow her home so she could take care of me. I ended up spending a week at Sitso place and she advised that I end the relationship with James. When I got back to the hostel, I realized my door had been fixed, my bed sheet and curtains changed and a new laptop on my bed. I knew he was the one who had done all these so I packed everything and sent them to his room. He was out of the hostel and it was only his roommate who was there and so I poured the things on his bed and left him a note that I wanted to have nothing doing with him again.

For the next two weeks he was constantly begging me to forgive him, and that he didn’t know why he did what he did but no amount of begging was going to make me go back. Then he felt sick shortly and got admitted to the hospital and his mother came to plead with me to at least visit him since she suspected he wasn’t getting any better because of me. Out of respect for the mother, I agreed to visit him at the hospital, he said he would kill himself if I leave him, promised to be of great behavior and as it will turn out I found myself in his arms again. Everything was going on well then it got to a time the sex really began to suck. We will caress each other and set the mood, then he will undress me and stare at my body for long and tell me he was not in the mood. There were times he would shove things into my vagina all in the name of us being adventurous sexually and film these. Though I was not really comfortable with all of these, I partook in them all in the name of love and hoping it would revive his sex drive, at least that was what I thought. Then one day, I caught him having sex with another lady in his room. When I confronted him, he said left to him alone, he would not have sex with me because I stink and sealed it off with a sound beating. I cried the whole night and it got to a point I felt my eyes were going to fall out of their sockets and decided he wasn’t worth it. I called his mother to inform her that I had ended the relationship with her son because I could no longer take the abuse and then she came to visit me the next day.

She told me that men will always be men and that if I loved her son, I should stick by him no matter what he does to me because she knew he really loved me. That was when I realized her husband treated her the same way her son was treating me. I apologized to her and told her, I’ve had my fair share of abusive relationships and wanted a man who would treat me right. I told her that her son had filmed some of our sexual escapades and threatened to put them on the internet if I broke up with him but if she really loved her son she would advise him not to try that since there would be dire consequences. With this she stood up hugged me and left. The last time I checked, James is in Australia and married with two kids and has not yet killed himself because I left him. Next week I’ll tell you about Pastor Fred.

 
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Posted by on April 3, 2014 in Fiction

 

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My Chronicles.(Life of a Battered young woman)

My Chronicles.(Life of a Battered young woman)

It must have been the tenth time I had seen her this morning without a black eye. Was this really me?  The image in the mirror really didn’t reflect who I am but well shit happens in relationships and whether strange or not I was always the cesspit tank in most of the relationships I found myself in. I know a lot of you reading this will go all judgmental and say I was just a beautiful idiot (well not your typical beautiful girl that would have guys drooling and professing love to me by saying i was the only mosquito in their net so I should just bite them) and but hey I might even agree with you. But before you go any further than that, at least take your time to read my story and get to know me just a little bit.

Growing up, I had seen how my mother had struggled to take care of my elder brother and I. It was said that she was the most beautiful girl in the nine cluster of villages and what captivated most of the men who came in contact with her was that she had a beautiful brain. Educating girls was not a common thing then and most of the girls who had the chance of going to the village school only went up till standard six before they were married off to either some old man whose sexual libido was as short as a midget on his knees or the son of a rich farmer who wanted a girl form a good home for his son. My mother however was too brilliant to be married off to anyone when she passed her common entrance examination with distinction. Despite my grandfather wanting to marry her off as the sixth wife to Dzivenu the famous hunter of the village, the head teacher put his foot down and decided to sponsor her education at the secondary school level. It was here that she met my father. Because of her beauty that dripped like honey, she attracted her own fair share of bees, ants and houseflies. How she ended up with a cockroach like my father and ended her education, however, was and is something even I, a product of his loins cannot fathom. I was three years old when my father packed his things and left the house after beating mother severely and leaving her with a broken nose  and wounds belt stripes all over her body as though she was a zebra. That was the last time any of us ever heard or saw him. After him my mother was in and out of relationships like a ladle serving soup from a pot till there was nothing left to serve and so she decided to focus her energy on making sure we got the best education with the little income she was making.

Enough about my mother, right? So now let us begin with the chronicles of my love relationships.

DANIEL

I was seventeen when I first had a real boyfriend despite the fact that I had lost my virginity at the age of sixteen. You can say it was my curiosity about my womanhood and the things I had heard from friends that made me do it but hey that is a story to tell another day. Daniel was my elder brother’s mate in school and was more than a frequent visitor to our house. Anytime he was around, he would jump to my defense whenever I had a disagreement with my brother. I liked the way he was always defending me and made it a habit of always getting into some sort of trouble with my brother whenever he was around. Gradually he began visiting the house even when my brother was not around just to spend time with me then one day it happened. He had come around and as carefree as I had always been, I wore a see through blouse and could see him the salivate and his crouch bulge in his trousers like an overgrown boil ready to burst open. He tried to cross his legs to conceal the bulge in his trousers when he realized my eye had glided from his face to there. I turned away and smiled shyly to myself at the thought of him being embarrassed because of a natural reaction. Then I felt someone stand behind me.He held my arms and whispered into my ears.

‘Gina, you are so beautiful and I’m sure you are teasing me on purpose.’

Before I could open my mouth to reply him, his hands had cupped my breasts perfectly like a bra made specifically for them and then he began fondling them. I tried to free my breasts from his grip but his grip on them was very firm that the only defense I had was to bite him hard on the arm, which I did. He let go of my breasts and let out a cry of pain before smacked me hard on the face. I must have blacked out because the next thing I saw when I opened my eyes was him kneeling by my side and begging for forgiveness as he tapped both of my cheeks gently. My swollen eyelids seem almost impossible to open, they hurt so badly. The unmistakable taste in my mouth, a combination of tears and blood made me want to throw up but I couldn’t. What lie was I going to tell mother. She had always warned me about dressing properly with the boys around. Daniel was so visibly shaken and I found myself enjoying what was happening in a weird way. For three whole months after the incident , Daniel avoided our house like a plague and my mother even got suspicious and interrogated intensely like a CIA official on why Daniel no longer visited but I denied any knowledge of any reason. Well in the long run a had to lie to mother about the swollen eye and broken lips and she believed me. Well, that’s what i believe since she asked no further questions. Truth be told, I had to convince myself that the lie was the truth to sound convincing.

My mother had traveled and had left some money for the upkeep of the house and also some money to give to the cloth seller from whom she had bought a cloth on credit bases. When I went to give the money to the cloth seller, I was told she had traveled and would be back after three days. Then just as I left the cloth sellers house, I saw this beautiful pair of slippers that was in vogue. I decided to use the money since Auntie Jane had promised to pay me the money she owes me for doing her laundry for a month. I knew mother was not going to like it but hey, some things just need to be done. So here I was preparing to go out when the cloth seller walked in. I went pale like a rich man’s ghost that had just seen the two by four coffin in which he was buried. Yehowaaah! I had to lie to the woman and promise I would bring her the money later in the evening. Whether I sounded convincing enough for her or not under the circumstances was not something I was sure of but she just said I should make sure I bring her the money. Now, my only problem was where I was going to get the money. I ceased everything I was doing and rushed to Auntie Jane’s place to get the money but she also gave excuses. The only one I know who had that amount of money was Daniel and we were not even talking to each other.

I went home and took my bath and got dressed up. To get this money off Daniel I had to seduce him and so off I went to his house on a mission to get the money. When I got to his house I went to his door and knocked. I could hear shuffling from within the room and so I posed like a by force model trying to impress. His smile disappeared into a smirk when he opened the door and realized it was me.

 ‘What do you want here?’ He inquired without looking into my face.

I walked towards him and the door thinking he would allow me to enter the room but he stood his grounds.

‘Won’t you allow me to come in?’ I asked innocently.

He stared at me for a while and made way for me to enter the room. I made my way to the bed and sat on it. He closed the door and walked to wards me but stopped halfway from where I was. I laughed in my head got up and walked to him. I stood right in front of him and held him by the collar of his shirt.

‘Don’t you know I miss you?’ I asked

All he did was stare down at me with that foolish smirk on his face. I wrapped my hands up in his thick Afro hair and pulled his head down to mine and began to kiss him with such an intensity that when I pulled back, I knew I needed to finish this job quick. I had caught him off guard and the look in his eyes was one of him trying to figure out whether the kiss was a distractive mechanism or I was attracted to him as he was. The next hour would be of us naked as two balls of kenkey without their protection of cornhusk all over each other in a hot steaming sin escapade of sex that could burn down hell itself. After this we lay in bed breathing like a shameless boar after a heat session. Then he looked at me and smiled. The bed sheet was filled with stains of blood from the scratches he had received from me during the session

‘I am usually a control freak when it comes to sex or relationships. I see a woman; I take charge; I have sex, and then I move on. However, with you, you were the first woman who caused me to have sexual erotic fantasies just by seeing your smile’ he said.

I nodded, smiled and ruffled his Afro hair. After lying there for a while I got up and began to dress. He looked and my with his dozy eyes and asked that I stay a little longer, but I told him that I needed to go see whether Auntie Jane was back so see whether she has some laundry to be done for some money. He got up and said I shouldn’t bother and offered me three times the amount I needed which I took gladly. Come on! I know what you are thinking but yeah I didn’t need to make it obvious to him that lured him to have sex with me so I could get money. I was and am no prostitute. Well, technically speaking you can say on this occasion I was.

Later that evening I went to pay off Mother’s debt and went home. From that day onwards Daniel and I became a couple and our parents knew about this. Outwardly we were the coolest couple in the area but the truth was that Daniel was a chronic cheat who couldn’t be cured if all the fetish priests of Dahomey combined their powers. He ended up beating me every time I confronted any of the girls he was cheating on me with until one day my brother chanced upon him beating me up. The fight that emanated from this had him getting two of his ribs broken by my brother and causing the end of our relationship. I however visited him twice when he was healing and had some of the best sex in my life but then he wasn’t for me so I move on with my life. Next week I’ll tell you about James.

 

 

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on March 26, 2014 in Fiction

 

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Expressions Of Love

Expressions Of Love

I want to paint you with numbers
And calculate your effect on me with words.
I want my thoughts to beat for you
As my heart thinks about the smiles you make my eyes express
I want to find the Venn diagram within the figurative expressions of this love.
Only then will I understand this intelligent confusion of the heart doing nothing more than pumping blood
And the mind lost in thoughts it generates

 
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Posted by on February 14, 2014 in Poems

 

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Serenade

Serenade

Let me hang by the window of your heart

And be insanely dazed by your wild charm

Let the cemetery of your loneliness be lined up with forget me nots

As my eyes gleam like a dew caught under the first ray of the sun

At the sight of the notes from the orchestra of your beauty

Let my thoughts trap these mutual feelings

On the webs of our existence chanted by fate

As our self fulfillment intertwines with our grace

Draw me in your bow of comfort

And shoot me on a journey where the stars will gaze upon me

with envy burning through the moon’s heart

For I illuminate your light brighter than it does the sun’s

Let the truth of you be the insignia on me

Sealed with the realities brought forth from the loins of our fantasies

In the pollination of passions and faith

That metamorphoses two hearts into one

Enchantment of love brewed in an African pot

 
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Posted by on September 11, 2013 in Poems

 

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Finding Kuukua (6)

Finding Kuukua (6)

Musa was sitting at a table with some friends and ladies and was passively involved in the conversation happening around the table. Most often than not, he was the one who had ribs cracking at his feast of jokes and sarcasm but he was so lost in his thoughts that even google map wouldn’t be able to help him find where he was for his mind wandered as though it was a lost hunter who was trying to find his bearing but the math just didn’t add up. He had not felt strongly attracted to a woman the way he felt about Kuukua. What he felt for her was so deep that he found himself praying for her more than he did for himself. For two straight days he caught himself day dreaming about her and all the magical things he could or would do to her. His mind could trace the curve of her smile and he was sure if an examination was set on her figure he would pass with distinction. He murmured her name softly and gently as the first taste of fresh palmwine on the tongue early in the morning with a tingle that sent a ‘lorgorligi’ sensation down the spine. Just then she walked in. Even in her black dress she glowed like a thousand stars lined up at the door. From where she was standing, he could taste her on his tongue and his sense of smell of her was sharper than that of a grey hound. Indeed they say whatever will kill you will come as an appetite and this was one lady he was willing to die for but he needed to stay clear of her because he definitely knew Muniru was interested in her as our colonial masters were interested in our gold when the set their foot on our shores.

Kuukua walked straight to the bar and ordered for two shot of tequila and gulped them down in record time and smile at the waiter as she sucked on the lemon that accompanied the drinks. Just then the DJ started playing one of her Lauryn Hill favorites and she danced beautifully in her chair that just like the lyrics of the song people just couldn’t take their eyes off her. It was as though a spot light had been placed on her and she was stuck center stage performing for them. If she had done this dance before King Herod he would have given her his head on a gold platter rather that John which he offered to his daughter

When she finally moved to the dance floor it was a though she was dance itself. Her dance moves were as smooth as a baby’s buttocks and of a celestial beauty that had mouths wide open like pot holes on the roads of Ghana. He body moved like the gentle waves of a calm sea caressing Attaa Nii’s canoe whetting the appetite of his ego for a big catch. With her eyes closed she immersed herself in the melody of the song and just allowed the rhythm to lead her in the dance then she sensed a piercing look in her direction like the arrow shot from Atinga the gateman’s bow hitting a bull’s eye. She opened her eyes gently as scanned the dimly lit room for any familiar face and there he was. Like a god at a banquet with her being the main entertainment attraction. She could feel the passion in his look and she was ready to let him have it just the way she had been dreaming about it. The DJ was on his fifth track now and it was a slow jam. She wished he would walk to the dance floor and ask for a dance but she knew he wouldn’t instead he turned away and started talking to a beautiful girl beside him. Disappointed she was making her way off the dance floor when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and realized it was the guy who winked at her when she was the bar. He leaned towards her ears and said

“Let’s dance”

Kuukua smiled sheepishly at him as he led her to the dance floor and there they became one soul. The dance floor was cleared so they could have space to themselves. They danced so perfectly like the tapestry woven by a master kente weaver that some of the spectators began to have mental orgasms amidst the cheers and applause. Having had enough, Kuukua decided to go have a rest but the gentle man would just not let go of her. He went as far as suggesting that they continue the dance at his place in his bed that when Kuukua declined, he tag firmly to her arm that it hurt. Kuukua tried to push him off but her actions just gingered him on.

“Stop playing hard to get Lady, We both know you want me as I want you.” He screamed at her as he pulled her by the arm towards the exit with Kuukua fighting back like a goat being led to the slaughter house.

The next thing people saw was the gentleman lying and Musa beating the hell out of him like an angry Bukom man who caught his arch enemy stealing his last piece of fish from his pot. It took four strong men to pull Musa off the guy and when the even got him off he was still kicking wildly at the bleeding guy on the floor. All this while Kuukua in shock stood a few feet away from where the beating was taking place crying and screaming at Musa to stop. Outside Musa was still boiling inside like a pot of yam in light soup on fire. He wanted to tear the foolish guy to shreds and didn’t care if he went to jail defending Kuukua. The he dawn on him that he had not even checked to see whether she was okay before he stormed out of the club when he was pulled off the idiot. He walked toward the entrance and there was Kuukua, obviously still shaken from the incident. He stretched his hand towards her, she took hold of it and the both walked towards the car park.  At the car park he took her car key from her and asked her to go sit in the passenger seat and after making sure she was secured, he started the engine and drove off to her house. The journey was as silent as the conversation between kindred spirits in the cemetery. When they we finally at Kuukua’s place, Musa got down form the car and went to open the door for her. He held out his hand for her to hold onto as she alighted from the car. Then he brushed the hair off her forehead making her knee wobble. She held him by the shoulder and looked into his eyes. She could hear his heartbeat sing to the instrumentals of his breath. Her blood boiled with passion as he looked down at her and without thinking she kissed him on the lips gently at first, savoring the taste of his plump dark chocolate lip and strongly

Her lips tasted like none he had kissed before. Her tongue melted all his worries and anger but he needed to stop this before the fire turned really hot and burnt the two of them. He needed to break off because he had lost his breath and believed an asthma attack was about to happen. Just then a car drove past the gate creating the window opportunity for Musa break free from the kiss. Without saying a word he walked away without leaving Kukua to wonder whether she had offended him or not.

Muniru could not believe his eyes, here was the lady he wanted to himself kissing his brother. He suspected that something of this sort was going to happen immediately he received the phone call from his spy about what had transpired at the club. Jeez! He needed to act fast and super fast if he really wanted to have Kuukua all to himself.

 
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Posted by on April 22, 2013 in Fiction

 

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Finding Kuukua (5)

Finding Kuukua (5)

‘What the hell are you doing Kuu? Are you possessed? Oh my God!’ Kobby exclaimed.

How long had he been standing there? Who cares? What a kill joy he is. Just as she was about to climax, he had to appear like an Easter ghost. Feeling a little bit ashamed that she had been caught in the act, Kuukua got up from the couch and began to put on her nightie.

“What are you doing here?”

She enquired with a pinch of anger and embarrassment in her voice. Without waiting for a response she walked off to the bedroom and changed into a jeans skirt and her favorite cream blouse. The one Adez bought for her when she told her she had popped her cherry. They both had weird things they celebrated and over the years this had actually shaped and deepened their relationship. For instance, when Adez left her rich boyfriend because he was so engrossed with his work and had very little time for her, they had a party and invited some few friends over. She was sure Adez was first going to listen to her with a cloak of sympathy and surprise over her face and then going to tease her when she told her but right now she needed to clear her head and get rid of the tension building up in her. Though Kobby was around she, knew he was a lost cause in helping her fulfill her desire to reach her first orgasm, for it was going to be like using green pepper instead for ‘kpakposhitor’ for a hot steamy pot of palmnut soup with all the right accoutrements. She walked back into the living room and Kobby was sitting on the couch and without saying a word to him she walked to the center table, picked her car key and walked out.

Kuukua drove around town going nowhere in particular until she finally decided it was time for her to go to and have a good dance at the Fantasy Night Club. Maybe a good dosage of dancing would calm her sexual libido down. She needed Adez to come with her so that at least there would be someone to pull her reins when she was going too fast. Among the two of them Adez was the crazy and spontaneous one who did crazy stuffs and later regretted but she was the more reserved kind who thought through things and weighing out her options like bags of cocoa  on a scale before venturing into anything but it seemed that that was not the case today. Kuukua called Adez’s phone like three times yet got no response and told herself that, she might be very busy since it was a Wednesday. So she drove off to the nightclub all alone after leaving a voice message.…

The sounds of the midnight blues had her heart beating, reminiscence of her days she and Kuukua used to dance their hearts out when anyone of them was dealing with an issue. Today’s business was great and she had a lot of old and new customers coming through. Running her own beauty shop was great since she was her own boss and no man would demand for sex before offering her a job. Most of the time she wondered why some men did that and decided it was not worth thinking about since most women would choose and decide which man to sleep with and not the other way round. All her workers had left and it was left with only her. Tonight she was feeling a little naughty and wouldn’t mind getting laid but her regular sex mate was out of town and she was sure Kuukua would be asleep. The music was mesmerizing. She reached under the counter and turned it up until she could feel the bass of the beat pounding through her heart. She went to the front door and switched the display lights off, which with the tinted windows allowed her some privacy.

She turned the front door to lock or so she thought. She had not noticed the door slightly propped open with a pebble. Causing the door to look closed but was actually ajar. The beat had her in a trance like a possessed charismatic church prophetic warrior. The music was just feeling so intense to her, her mind danced with the music and memory of the handsome guy who always was the last to come to her shop before she closed to buy some aloe Vera creams. His eyes lit up when she flirted with him when he came around three weeks ago and that was the last time she saw him. He must have traveled, she thought to herself. His smile with his dimpled cheeks caused her nipples to perk to a tautness the other time and she knew he realized it

With some afforded privacy, since everyone was gone and the beat of the music calling to her to just let loose, Adez did just that. She pulled the jeweled pick out of her long curly hair and swayed her hair from side to side while bent at the waist. She let her fingers run loose in her hair. She turned up and saw her image reflected in one of the mirrors lined up on the wall. With thoughts of that man, her eye popped out like an owl’s at night. The hip outfit she had on was good but for some reason after thinking about the man. She decided it needed to come off. She was in the mood to do something daring tonight. She started by swaying her hips to the music. The words dangerously poured from the speakers,the song was singing to her and she felt dangerous. She was going to strip to the nude and rock her naked body all over the store. Knowing a passerby might be able to catch a small glimpse of her naked body through the dimly lit store as she drew all the blinds.

First off was her top. She wrapped it in each hand and began to rub it back and forth between her legs under her skirt, leaving her in only the black lace bra on top. After several up and down motions with her shirt between her legs, she tossed it off to the floor as though she was a stripper entertaining a group of boys who were raining fifty cedi notes on her. The music had her do a few dance moves with hip popping, finger snapping and head twists. She pulled down her skirt and slid it down slowly with her tight round ass facing to the front end of the store. She let each beat of the music cause her skirt to lower slowly as she bent at the waist. The skirt landed on the floor and she stepped out of it in her heels in just her thong underwear and lace bra. The she did a few more moves to the beat. The beat of the music slowed and then built up fast to a sound of a smack. The song was telling her to smack that. She loved being spanked for arousal of some blood pumping sex. The feel of a strong man’s spank would cause the blood to rush to her clitoris, allowing for a tingling that got her ready for a for some real action which seemed elusive but all the same she was just going to preten and have some great fun

The beat of the music got her thinking of the man from earlier smacking her on the ass. She did a pose and with a twist of her body she bent at the waist, flipped her hair down, and back up fast. She turned again and smacked herself on her ass and the sting of her hand got her blood rushing. She began moving to the music, reached for a fedora hat off a display of hats, and slipped in on her head. She strutted around the shop in only her bra and thong. She made it back behind the counter and swayed her hips from side to side. She clicked the keys on the computer register to start the closing of the sales for the day. A lull between the songs caught her attention when she thought she heard a man clear his voice. Then the next song started up and she went to the second register. Once that one was done, she did a few dance moves to the song and when she popped her head back up, he stood behind the counter with the deepest grin on his face and sparkle so bright in his eyes, she was sure he saw some of it… most of it, or perhaps with the way he was looking at her, he saw all of it.

She grabbed the towel off her the rack nearest to her to cover herself up. The beat of the music kept pumping loud; however, she was sure her heart was pumping louder. How long had he been standing there? Why hadn’t she heard him enter or the chime of the entry to the door? Mostly, why had the front door not locked? He cleared his throat, held out his hand, and practically yelled his name. “Hi, I’m Edem.” Then she realized how loud she must have had the music on. She reached with one hand down under the counter to turn the music down while still trying to cover her cleavage with her other hand. She smiled coyly as the music dropped to a regular volume. He spoke up again as she had not shook his hand that he had offered. “I just got back into town and rushed here to get some of the aleo vera cream before you locked up” He looked deep into her eyes. She bet he was won

She looked into his eyes and realized that her opportunities just grew bigger with the moment. He was attracted to her and there was no doubt she was attracted to him. She stepped up her bravado, tied the towel around her waist, walked out from behind the counter, and walked to the front door. Looking for the culprit that kept the door from locking, she eyed the pebble and kicked it outside to the sidewalk, then closed and locked the door and walked back. He had leaned himself back against the counter and his loose shorts and boxers could not hide what she knew was there. She walked up to him and let her hand travel from his neck to around the front of his chest and down his abs to a light brushing of his crouch. “Nice to meet you.” Just as her hand lifted away from his zipper, she felt a twitch between his legs and she smiled. “I’m Adez.” She eyed him up and down as if he was candy and she wanted to lick his alewa.

He was a shy one. His body was screaming yes but he was leaning against the counter gripping it for dear life now. She knew she would have to take the lead and show this guy how into him she was. She stood and smiled while holding a container of the aloe vera cream she had picked from one of the display stands on the counter. He hadn’t reached for it yet. “How many of these do you want?” she smiled. “you know I can give you more than this right?” She wiggled her waist and pushed up her breasts. The sweat on his forehead let her know he was waiting for that answer as he finally let go of the counter and set his firm large hand on her hip, lowered to one knee and let his hand graze the front of her thong. He looked up into her eyes and she smiled down to him shaping the word ‘yes’ with her mouth.. He looked back up at her as his hands set on either side of her thong. “Take it off.” She instructed him. As she let the clasp of her bra undo and slid it off her breasts and the straps down her arms, the pupils of his eyes enlarged, along with the dimples in his smile. He let the thong slide down the length of her body to the floor and she stepped out of it. Then she slightly stepped her legs apart and laid a hand on his thick lush black hair. When he looked back up into her eyes pleading with their deep bright intensity she spoke with certainty. “I’m willing.”

As if she unleashed him from the bonds that were making him hesitant, he smiled and let his eyes travel from her breasts to her belly to her fountain of sensitivities, which she was sure, was giving off the scent of fuck me now. The sweet gentle brush of his lips on her inner thigh was nice, sweet even. However, she now wanted his tongue-lashing and lapping in her fountain. The intense feeling of his hot tongue on her with the music still beating in the background was erotic. The feel of his thick lush hair in her hand as she felt the motion of his head with each tongue-lashing was intensely surreal. Sex with a gorgeous man was not out of the question for her, but with a complete stranger, it made the whole experience so much more intense. They took turns working on each other’s pleasure points and feeling his naked bare skin against her body sent sensations to every sensual spot in her body. She wanted every inch of him touching her. She wanted him in her; she wanted his fingers and hands touching her everywhere. She opened her mouth slightly and then he let his mouth devour her. She loved the taste of him, the feel of his tongue as he deepened in her mouth. The way his lips tingled against her caused her to want to cum. She let herself moan loudly and let her hands wander over his back and up to his neck. His lips pulled away and he groaned into her neck. The vibrations sent shivers throughout her body causing her to smile. His voice on her skin, when he spoke next to her ear, began warming her skin back up. “I wanted you the second I saw you tonight. How is this possible?”

She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes and smiled a wicked smile. “It just is.” She let her fingers run up and down his chiseled chest and enjoyed the way his muscles flinched just a tad from her touch. Then as if a light switch turned on, he went from cautious and gentle, to greedy and hungry. Well she knew how to feed a lion. They both climaxed at the same time and it felt like a a fire set on earth that had caused lightning in the heavens. After he had left, Adez, all bubbly dressed up and headed home. Her phone rang and she picked it up only to realize it was a message from Edem thanking her for a lovely evening. Scrolling through the phone she realized that Kuukua had called her three times and left her a voice message.

 

 

 
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Posted by on April 2, 2013 in Fiction

 

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Finding Kuukua (4)

Finding Kuukua (4)

Immediately he entered the room Muniru felt the vibe between Kuukua and his brother. Truth be told, he had been tailing Kuukua for a while and wanted to have her all to himself. He had just like a master hunter laid his bait for his prey tactfully and like a lion he was not going let her go to another alpha male no matter  who he was. Not even his own brother for even though blood is thicker than water, hausa koko too is thicker than blood. He had seen the chemistry that was brewing between them. Her eyes glowed and squinted and he could feel her body vibrate to the rhythm of her heart beat that sound like the thumping of a calabash placed upside down on water when Musa held her hand. He wanted her like an obroni need sun lotion to keep his or her skin from tanning. What was he thinking knowing pairing Musa, a gigolo with a beautiful woman on a project without thinking would breed trouble? There were times he wished he was Musa. His brother just had a certain connection with women that was difficult to comprehend. It was as if he left an indelible sweetness on the tongues of their curiosity anytime he approached any woman and they never felt aggrieved when he dumped them. Muniru was sure if King Solomon were alive in this age and time, his brother Musa would have indeed been a worthy foe to the King in the affairs of women.

The meeting was quiet tensed and Kuukua could feel the heat of dislike the two brothers felt for each other. It was as though the sun had been plucked from the skies and placed directly in the conference room. You could virtually see smoke puffing out of Musa’s ears and nostrils like an old chimney at an old mission house when Muniru told him that he needed him to be the subject  for  a  documentary on how gigolo’s operate in Ghana. Saying he was outraged was actually an understatement on how Musa felt as he stormed out of the office, and to make matters worse, Muniru shouted the most ridiculous offers anyone could make to his blood brother. A million Ghana Cedis!

Kuukua wondered whether she had just joined the circus or maybe there were hidden cameras around filming her reaction to the drama unfolding before her and someone would jump out of nowhere and scream that she had was being punked. There was somehow a sexiness to Musa’s anger that made her smile like a shy school girl who was being talked to by her crush to herself. His features were more defined that it felt as though his saucepan belly had been dissolved by the anger like salt sprinkled on steaming kotomire. She found Muniru attractive but Musa was the one who had charmed her and moreover she had vowed never to have anything romantic with her boss and was not going to break her vow.

Once he had sat in his car, Musa burst out into a hysterical laugh. So Muniru was actually interested in Kuukua. He knew his brother like the clouds knew the intensity of the sun’s heat yet just like the clouds he always accommodated him. Well it was good to see his brother had found someone he was interested in but from all indications Kuukua seemed attracted to him rather than Muniru. This was the right opportunity to take his pound of flesh but he was not the revengeful type so he was just going to walk away and be the bigger man though the offer was tempting. He drove off as Kuukua emerged from the building and headed straight home. Had she seen him laughing? So unusual of him, Musa drank pineapple juice that evening instead of his customary chilled bottle of beer that soothed his throat and paved the way for his usual fufu or banku supper. All he could think about was the beauty of Kuukua’s arse in her skirt she wore as she bent over to type on her computer when he entered the conference room. It was as beautiful as two yam mounds created by a Dagaati man ready to receive some yam seeds but it was her calm nature  like palm wine in a well-polished calabash when things got heated between Muniru and himself that swayed him into having a deep respect for her now. He was going to avoid her like a plague.

When Kuukua got home the first person she called was Adez, who despite her busy Wednesday was glad that Kuukua had called. She knew instantaneously that something was bothering her best friend and offered to pass by Kuukua’s place but Kuukua declined with the excuse of Kobby going to be around and though she promised Adez she would call her before she goes to bed so they can talk, she knew Adez could pull a surprise on her by coming over, but who cared? Adez was more than a best friend, she was the sister that came out of friendship and her confidant.  Kuukua changed into a silk robe and decided that it was not necessary to wear panties. She went back to the living room and tried to wrap her head around what had happened earlier on and though Muniru had called her to apologies, all she could think about was Musa. It was a though his image had been hot plated and etched in her memory and wanting to loosen herself she went to fetch the bottle of wine she had bought for Kobby from the fridge and poured out a glass for herself. As she took the first sip she began to wonder why she was drinking alcohol but the sharp sweetness of the wine urge her on with its charm on her tongue and before she realized what was happening to her, she had drank more than half the bottle. The tipsiness she felt made her crave for some hot steamy sex  session that would burn her sweetly and leave her speaking in tongues like a possessed charismatic prayer warrior. She heard a car toot its horn and staggered to the window to see whether it was coming to her house.

The night reflection on her window caught her image of herself, with her piercing reddish eyes and jet-black hair. She wore it just past her shoulder blades in a straight cut. She tossed her head left and right like a model in a hair relaxer television commercial and giggled and how silly it felt to be doing so. She then let her hand slide up her body to her breast. She toyed with her nipple until it was taut. Letting the feel, of her pinch and brush motion tantalize her senses. She let the hand that was on the window tease her other nipple. She played back and forth with grabbing and squeezing her breasts, to pinching her nipples to brushing the palms of her hands over the taunt nipples. It felt so good, so right while she thought of Musa’s sexy angry face.She let her black silk robe slide off her naked body as her hands brought pleasure to her breasts and then slowly slid down between her legs.

The ledge of the tall windows was at just the right height for her to set her naked foot on the ledge. She let one of her hands slide up her body to her neck to rub as the other hand slid between her legs, brushing her palm across her naked fountain of sensitivities. The moisture had already accumulated. Feeling her knees tremble with sweet weakness, Kuukua half dragged herself from the window to the couch and continued to play with herself. She had never done this but with the deep burning sensation of excitement about to erupt from within her,she was not sure she wanted to stop. She had never felt like this during any of her love making sessions with Kobby. She felt her body getting ready to convulse and just then the door opened and all she could do was freeze.

 
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Posted by on March 23, 2013 in Fiction

 

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