Meanwhile, many years before Odieasem ascended the throne, there was born a man known as Saul. This Saul later attended the institute of high learning in Rome and was introduced to Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, Kant, Hegel, Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, Marx and Socrates. He also learnt the ways of Sulla, Julius Caesar and Marcus Aurelius. Right from the high tower, he took a garment of pure Scottish fabric and, with letters from the bearded philosophers of the land, set off to uphold the virtues of the Universe.

One day, on his way to Okponglomascus, suddenly a voice sounded around him and a light flashed.

The voice called out: “Go ye towards the road to Fanoafa and ye shall be told what to do.”

In Fanoafa lived a disciple of the Brand, a Sammenitan called Hatta. The word came to him: “Go out on the Fanoafa road and ye shall find a young man in Scottish garb, who ye shall take onto thy fold; for he is my chosen instrument to build and sustain the Brand.”

Picking up his rod, the Hatta the Sammeritan went forth by the Way of Avenor and took the long road towards Okponglomascus where he met Saul. Then Hatta, the man of Sammenria, held the hands of Saul and blessed him, saying, “Brother Saul, ye have been found worthy of the Brand and selected by the Voice; the Voice that spoke to you on the Okponglomascus road has directed me to you, so you might be imbued with dumornic fervour to serve the Brand and build it and sustain it, as a standard to all who shall come after thee.”

Immediately, Saul started speaking in slangs and praising the Voice, rejoicing that he had been counted worthy of the working for the Brand. When the power of the Voice had descended on him, the Sammeritan blessed him and said, “Henceforth, you shall be called Paul Grace, for upon this foundation I will build the Brand.”

The Voice was with Paul and worked mighty and great deeds through him. And the Brand grew and many were added to their numbers. Among the deeds wrought through Paul and the servants of the Brand included a one-on-one with Junior Jesus, after his second coming and when he had visited the temple to cast lots. This feat was unprecedented and the fame of the Brand soared and soared. The philosophers of the land saw all that Paul had done and were pleased and honoured with a coat of many colours.

In the church at Fanoafa were many teachers and prophets: Rekced who was also called Sonny, Romud from the house of Oheb, Neerod who was one of the mighty women who had served right from the beginning of the church and Paul. As the Brand grew and grew, one day, as the servants of the Brand were meditating on the Way, the Voice spoke and said, “Set apart for me Paul Grace and Hatta the Sammenitan, for they have more work to do in unearthing and nurturing more disciplines to serve in more churches modeled after Fanoafa.”

So it came to pass that after the disciples had fasted and prayed, they sent them forth as apostles of the Voice. The two of them, sent on their way by the Voice, went down via the Appian Way and turned towards the place called The Blood Is A Crowd and over the Bridge towards the Road of Liberation, proclaiming the Way of The Voice wherever they went, doing good and making disciples of all men.

The first church they planted was at the centre of The City, where Paul found and converted a young man known as Elva, who was full of grace and power. Elva was beloved of Paul.

Sometime later, Paul said to Hatta, “Let’s go back and visit the brethren between Fanoafa and here and see how they are faring.” Paul wanted to take Elva with him, but the older apostle from Sammenria wanted to keep Elva at The City. The two apostles had such a sharp disagreement that they parted company. Elva remained at The City but didn’t lose his relationship with Paul. Paul loved Elva with all his heart. Paul set forth and went through Ganaria and Sankaria, eventually pitching his ministry at Labonicia, from where he continued to speak to the churches, including the church at Manasonia.

And it is at Labonica that Wofa Kapokyikyi met Paul Grace and fell in love with his sermons from the Mount every evening. Wofa wasn’t along: people from far and near would come and drink deep as the Apostle Paul taught and instructed and also brought philosophers to espouse on Plutonian and Aristocratic ideas as well as those for the down-trodden.

With the passage of time, the Brand continued to grow and expand and more where added to their numbers, including a man called Azur, from Manasonia who came wailing and sniffing and looking under the eyes of corpses. In the meantime, there arose in the land a leader of the scribes called Yennom son of Frail. He was learned, both in letters worked for and those acquired.

In the eighth month of the first year of Odekuro Odieasem Nana Tutubrofo Dankwawura, Azur went looking into coffins in the house of Paul of Jos. Some of the coffins had been closed and sealed and locked in the vault. Not only did Azur open these caskets, but he did them in the open, just outside the temple gates. The harmattan winds carried the nunu scent into the corridors of the temple and permeated everywhere.

The ‘shenanigans’ of Azur, with the support of the Brand, didn’t go down well with the retired priests and servants of the temple. And some of the scribes, who began releasing epistles upon epistles cautioning against exorcism. Azur retorted that exorcism wasn’t banned under the Torah.

Things came to a head when the major Scribe, Yennom bar-Frail, released his epistle, directed towards no-one but targeted towards the discerning.

There was uproar in the land, from both Jews and Gentiles and from the Sadducees and Pharisees. Counter epistles were written and posted on the city gates and on the walls of the land. One epistle was jointly written by the Watchmen. One of the signatories was a Nyarkonite, who was a retired opener of caskets.

That is when Paul gave his seminal ecclesiastical paulogue to Azur, reminding him of the tenets of the Brand and admonishing him not to dilute the Way of the Voice, keeping it holy and sacrosanct. The Sermon covered over forty scrolls, according to the scribes whose duty it is to record the annals of the land. The Sermon chronicled the history of the church of the Brand and the canons of the Way. Paul spoke with spiritual vehemence, saying “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.”

And being in anguish, he spoke more earnestly and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.

After the Sermon, there was uproar in the land, with the Watchmen saying perhaps the apostle had been affected by his association with the house of Jos. And when the Nyarkonite, who was used as an example of how not to behave in the Way, came to affirm the methods of Azur the Manasonian, the people of the land looked up to the heavens, for a word from the Voice.
In the meantime, the people reached out for their favourite book in such moments: the book of Nahum. Even Wofa Kapokyikyi, who is not usually bereft of words, is reading Nahum.

Hmmm…

As for Yennom bar-Frail, he won’t be forgetting his epistle in a hurry, as we await the casting of lots soon. Will it be the one epistle that determines how he gets to manage the letters after his name, either procured or awarded?

Till I come your way another day with another sebitical, I remain:

Sebitically yours,
Kapokyikyiwofaase
–

By: Nana Awere Damoah (Writer/Author / Technical Services Consultant)
Co-Founder, DAkpabli & Associates (Publishers)

The post Sebiticals: An Ecclesiastical Paulogue to the Manasonians appeared first on Citi 97.3 FM - Relevant Radio. Always.

‘Nsempiisms’, which is his sixth book, is made up of a rich mix of social satire on the Ghanaian situation and value-laden anecdotes that inspires the human spirit.  The title is an Akan term which loosely means ‘matters of public concern’. ‘Nsempiisms’ is already available as an e-book and in hardcopy on Amazon, iBooks, Azaliabooks and other online platforms. The event is expected to draw audience from the literary circles as well as influential members of Ghanaian society.

Damoah is listed as one of the top ten exceptional non-fiction writers from Ghana by Gird Center. “I envy the mind of Nana Awere Damoah. Nsempiisms is deep, insightful and piercing, yet Damoah’s writing flows with breezy simplicity”, observed TV show host Kwaku Sintim-Misa.

Since he came out with his first book in 2008, Nana Awere Damoah has consistently engaged his audience both in Ghana and abroad on the questions of self-improvement and patriotism. In partnership with his compatriot Kofi Akpabli, he has also pursued a national reading campaign dubbed DAkpabli Readathon which features entertaining public book readings.

Damoah started serious writing when, in 1997, he won first prize in the Step Magazine National Writing Competition. He is the author of five other books: Sebitically Speaking, I Speak of Ghana, Tales from Different Tails, Through the Gates of Thought, and Excursions in my Mind.

He holds a Master’s degree in Chemical Engineering from the University of Nottingham and a Bachelor’s in Chemical Engineering from the Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology (KNUST). Additionally, he is wrapping up a Postgraduate Diploma in Operations and Supply Chain Management with the University of Liverpool. A British Council Chevening alumnus, Nana works in Nigeria as a Technical Manager. Nana Awere Damoah is married with three children. He divides his time between Lagos and Tema.

In this new book, Nana Awere Damoah brings to his readers another thought provoking collection. The event starts at 6: 00 pm. There will be music and poetry recitals. Admission is free.

–

By: citifmonline.com/Ghana

The post Nana Awere Damoah to launch new book on Feb 25 appeared first on Citi 97.3 FM - Relevant Radio. Always.

I bring you warm Buharamattan greetings from Amalaman where we are on auto-pilot, if you were to believe what the papa deceive pikin people are saying. Well, to be fair, they are not the only ones saying that.

The Rock of Aso neighbours are also saying same. Oga Kpatakpata has been visiting herbalists in the land beyond the cornfields and has gone beyond his originally advertised return date.

There are many stories making the rounds, Wofa. Some say the herbs that are needed to be put in the pot to be cooked for him to inhale, he sitting on a stool with the hot steaming herb-infused, pot in front of him and layers of blankets covering him, those herbs, they say the herbs are a bit scarce now due to climate change and how much the snow has fallen this year. Some people also say that the herbalists are as slow as a wounded snail so their journey to the land of herbs is taking a bit long.

Others also say the Oga is just tayaaed, and need rest, insisting that it is only the infirmed tortoise who feels the cold and blames it on the weather. In the meantime, Wofa, we wait as the country drives itself. So they say. Ei, these yesi-yesi people.

I have been watching events in Sikaman from afar and wanted to share a few thoughts with you, Wofa. On February 2014, I wrote on my Facebook wall:

“Forget AFAG. Forget CJA. Forget footsoldiers. This is a year of citizen demos. Small small ones. They will start with roads and unfulfilled promises and upgrade. I can hear the sounds of a toad which is getting to the limit of intake of water.”

Later that year, on the 1st of July, a motley collection of mostly professionals, who are usually classified as the “middle class”, stepped off their social media accounts, went beyond their online rants and demonstrated with their feet, waking to the Flagstaff House to occupy.

That was the beginning of hitherto unconcerned Ghanaians, who had learnt to create their private solutions to public problems, wearing their voices and coming in from the cold. That simmer swelled and gained momentum and found expression in the massive defeat of the ruling party in the 2016 elections.

Legend has it that the tipping point of the struggle for Ghana’s independence started after the return to the then-Gold Coast of Sergeant Adjetey, Corporal Attipoe, Private Odartey Lamptey and their comrades who, as members of the Gold Coast Regiment, went to Burma to fight in World War II. The story goes that having fought alongside other nationalities and having calibrated their skills against same, there were imbued with the awareness of the fact that they were equally capable and wondered why they couldn’t be in charge of their own destinies. Well, the trigger point was the non-payment of their due pension and provision of promised jobs, but that awareness from the mountain top experience, where they viewed across the terrain and found their voices, counted and culminated in the 28 February Christiansborg, Crossroad shooting.

A people who gather momentum from the freedom of finding their voices hardly go quiet again. From 2014, many a Ghanaian started on a journey of shedding her cloak of silence and picked up an armour of citizenship that had a breast-place to repel insults.

Insults! The tool used by the Sikaman politician and his cohorts to frighten ordinary citizens from commenting on issues. Usually when loses the capacity to argue intellectually (or perhaps lacked the capability in the first place), the person descends to the level of using insults. I remember a story of one musician being asked how many times he smoked weed, Wofa.

“Once in a blue moon,” he responded.

The interviewer probed further, asking “How often does the blue moon appear?”

“Everyday,” the musician answered, not missing a beat.

The use of insults happened every blue moon day, and sadly continues. So with time, citizens resorted to playing safe and wearing clocks of silence that had been sewn under the culture of silence, when the former Odekuro, whose lineage transcends the cornfields, reigned.

But Sikamanians shed those cloaks! They found their voices and these voices, having found the harmony of singing a war song that could drive a party out of power, will not go silent as the new Ahenfie inhabitants settle in and attempt to maintain the status quo. These voices will not go back into the cold.

None of the parties in Sikaman have enough card-bearing numbers or staunch supporters to win elections on their own. None of them. From previous election trends, it is clear that the most the parties can pull on the strength of these dedicated numbers is about 45% of the total vote cast. To cross the 50%, parties need the swing voters, the so-called neutrals (which is really a misnomer, in my view, as no one who votes is a neutral!). The problem with these swinging safari folks is that they are too-known! They speak their minds with their thumbs, which have attributes of the pendulum.

I dare say, Wofa Kapokyikyi, that if one drew two circles representing these swinging safaris and those who wore their voices from 2014, the two circles will overlap very nicely and the intersection would contain a good number. A very good number. Voices that have come out of the cold.

Already Odekuro Odieasem Nana Tutubrofo Dankwawura and his sub-chiefs are feeling the new Sikamanian. The momentum built by the Sikamanian from the near-occupation of the Ahenfie meant that even though the new Odekuro and his men and women hit the cornfields running, the pace of Sikaman was faster, and is also fueled by impatience.

The issues that sent the former Odekuro out of the Ahenfie will not be changed overnight, but the environment that nurtured the issues and gave them life must change. Odekuro better note that. And he must note also that a key component of the past few years has been that culture of talking plenty that doesn’t cook yam. There is much work to be done, and it is the time for business un-usual. Sikamanians have had enough feeding of propaganda to last them decades so we want a different menu.

Long may the voices find expression in keeping Odekuro and his men alert, Wofa. May these voices not lose the audacity to question. Every Sikamanian has the right of exercising the “effrontery” to ask questions. The day we lose our appetite to question is the day we die as a country.

Till I come your way with another sebitical missive from Amalaman, I remain, as always:

Sebitically yours,
Kapokyikyiwofaase
End Notes

AFAG: Alliance for Accountable Governance
CJA: Committee for Joint Action
Tayaaed: Adulterated form of the word ‘tired’, pidgin
Amalaman: Nigeria
Sikaman: Ghana
Sikamanian: Ghanaian

–

By: Nana Awere Damoah

The post Sebiticals Chapter 36: Coming in from the cold [Article] appeared first on Citi 97.3 FM - Relevant Radio. Always.

In the days of yore when we were we and we roamed the highlands and lowfields of the university of spiritual training, which later was given a coating of the name from Nkroful, there lived an obroni-trained herbalist in the big herbal centre near the road that ran from the abode of Odekuro right into the bosom of Otumfuo.

Teacher Croffectus told us many market days ago on the hills of Menya Mewu, which existed side-by-side with the valley of the swinging monkeys, that everyone needed to be aware of two aspects of self for life’s journeys and to also made decisions on careers: aptitude and attitude; what one’s gumption quotient was and what his behaviours and idiosyncrasies inclined him towards.

What Teacher Croffectus failed to add was one’s debiatitude: how one looks like.

This herbalist in the herbal centre near the road looks like a fitter mechanic. Our view in the land of spiritual training was that an obroni-herbalist is supposed to look dadabee kakra, and not to have features that made you look up at the ceiling instead of admiring the handiwork of Odumakoma Nana Nyankonpon.

One of the reasons why perhaps Kapokyikyiwofaase didn’t even consider the suggestion of Premang Ntow’s son, that Premang Ntow’s grandson became a herbalist.

The debiatitide.

The legend was that during the period when even Nii Saddam reduced the length of his drumming sessions and gave time to the lesser business of reading his books, when men and women alike chewed the midnight kola and burnt the evening osɔnɔ, when Sir RED roamed the rooms muttering “minfitɛ gbɛmen average” (I am destroying the cumulative average of students) and admonishing students to draw any line even if they couldn’t make head or duna of the isometric drawing questions….during that period of exams, many are those who thronged the herbal centre for some relief from pain and stress, from the toils of preparation for exams and from the stress of not making enough time for one inte or the other, and the repercussions thereof.

The story continues that this fitter-herbalist used to prescribe herbs just as you stated your ailments and many who exited his consulting room found out, when they compared tales from not different tails, that they were given the same herbs, even for different complaints.

They soon concluded that the herbalist listened only with his hands.

So, one day, Nii Saddam, also called Kule, decided to get to the root of the matter. When he was ushered into the consulting room, he just sat and didn’t utter a word. But Fitter-Herbie had started scribbling away and prescribing herbs!

“But you don’t even know what is wrong with me!” Kule indicated.

“Ah, but don’t you all have the same illnesses and symptoms during this time?” Fitter-Herbie retorted.

I bring you warm greetings from my Wofa Kapokyikyi who told me that whilst it is true what our elders say, that even though heads may look alike, the thoughts in them differ, sometimes when you see how one particularly-shape head is modeled upon a neck, one can sense that the thoughts in that head have been experienced before in the past, and soon enough, the pouring out of those thoughts confirms the suspicion.

Like the stance of the Fitter-Herbie, many times when one considers the happenings in Sikaman, one gets the feeling of Ghana vu. Many times, the trajectory that issues take, like the path of a quadratic graph that rises and falls, that ‘pours water’, a line that accelerates to a crescendo and falls, like the crest and trough of a wave, seems too familiar.

In Sikaman, many times when the matters hit, one just gets the sense that we have been here just the day, the week, the month or the year before, and one could almost predict the path ahead of the issue.

The steadfast problems of our land never ceases, their recycling never come to an end. They are renewed every morning, great is our faithfulness in traversing roads just travelled.

How are our new politicians different from the old? How different do we address our issues? Are our national scripts rehashed just for new actors?

Zimbabwean writer NoViolet Bulawayo wrote a novel entitled ‘We Need New Names’. Yes, in Sikaman, we need new scripts. We need new ways of doing things. We need new stories.

We need new politics. We need to change the narrative. We need new mentalities of citizens. We need different heads and fresh thoughts from these heads, mixing in a national cauldron where each thought acts as an ingredient to produce a national meal of positive progress that delivers tangible development.

We can’t continue to be that predictable. We can’t continue to peregrinate as if we have no destination as a nation.

We must get off the road just travelled and find new paths.

We need new names. No more Ghana vu.

Till I come your way next time with another sebitical, I remain:

Sebitically yours,
Kapokyikyiwofaase

–

By: Nana Awere Damoah

The post Sebiticals Chapter 35: Ghana Vu – The road just travelled [Article] appeared first on Citi 97.3 FM - Relevant Radio. Always.

Last year, on 1 July 2014, a group of those people who prefer wearing tapoli around their necks and wearing siketi instead of ntama decided to join a motley band of young folks who wanted to do a walk to the Ahenfie . They said they had some words that they wanted Odikro to hear. A good number of our beautiful and strong ladies joined the march. After the event, some of the leading newspapers sympathetic to the running government decided to defame at least three of the ladies. One was mocked because she was not married.

Sikaman has been reeling under the effect of what has been known as dumsor. Some say there is so little sor that we should call it dumkoraa . Odikro has been promising as usual, and giving assurances he is not sure about. In March 2014, he said the crisis was temporary and asked for patience. Just last week, on May 1 2015, he again said the situation was only temporary, and will be surmounted in the “not too distant future”. This has led not a few people to enquire from the catechist whether the meaning of temporary has changed since the cedi has been depreciating so much. Wofa Kapokyikyi, who was on his way back from the Liberty Fan Club and was infused with the spirit with the accompanying fuse, interjected by saying that the word ‘temporary’ should be appreciated in the spirit of the word ‘provisional’ which lasted for eleven years.

A number of the big men and women whose films we watch at Sadisco Hotel have been speaking about this dumkoraa situation. John Dum said his mind. And Lydia Forsuwaa too. And then John Dum came back to clarify what he said earlier.

There have been various reactions, of course, as always happens in Sikaman. Don’t we even speak back to Amakye the town crier when he gives us a message from Odikro , though we know he is only a messenger?

However, one of the responses that really got me tongue-tied was from a man who is said to do some walatu-walasa near the Ahenfie. He said because Forsuwaa had no man on whose wall she could lean her gun against, she had no right to wield a gun.

When I first heard this, I thought to myself that when a woman speaks and all you have to say in return is based on whether she is married or not, then my comments for you are best retained in my head.

But my Wofa Kapokyikyi said I was a fool if I didn’t unload the many thoughts in my mind about this. He is right because those thoughts were giving me headaches.

So I will speak. As I said earlier, this misogynistic posturing was exhibited clearly last July after the OccupyFlagStaff House protest by some publications in Ghana. I said once that the beautiful thing about patience and the bosom of time is that words used to put someone in his/her place today will be the same words that embarrass or implicate the speaker tomorrow. In the matter of the current misogynistic utterances, however, the time lap is microscopic. It is, in this case interestingly, embedded in the proverb that says when you point the index finger at a person, three fingers are pointing back at you.

As I said earlier, this misogynistic posturing was exhibited clearly last July after the OccupyFlagStaff House protest by some publications in Ghana. I said once that the beautiful thing about patience and the bosom of time is that words used to put someone in his/her place today will be the same words that embarrass or implicate the speaker tomorrow. In the matter of the current misogynistic utterances, however, the time lap is microscopic. It is, in this case interestingly, embedded in the proverb that says when you point the index finger at a person, three fingers are pointing back at you.

By the definition and categorisation applied at unmarried, above-thirty, ladies, the speaker paints a lot of his own colleagues and comrades.

The beauty of words.

The blessedness of time.

This is a country where in the early 1900s, a woman took up her gun and led men into battle.

This is a country where the selection of our chiefs and Kings cannot happen unless the queenmother decides.

This is a country where when there is a dilemma and a difficult knot to be untied, we go to see Abrewa.

A century later, there arises a man who is so close to the Ahenfie telling us that because of the rope between his legs, he has more sense than his mother who created and nurtured that rope.

This is how far we have come. We are where we are. A few days after the May Day celebrations, I had a chat with a man who inspired me greatly. We discussed my new book,

A few days after the May Day celebrations, I had a chat with a man who inspired me greatly. We discussed my new book, Sebitically Speaking, and he indicated thus: “Reading Sebiticals has been both fun and inspiring. We’ve got work to do. A lot.”

I sought his permission to share some of the responses I gave to him in the conversation. I wrote thus: “Indeed we have. Moreso, on the minds of our people. The level of mental appreciation is so low and it is complicated by the unwillingness to get enlightened.”

Then, he said: “Absolutely. And it’s getting worse on so many levels. We seem to be dumbing down, from top to bottom. I am so happy I am on social media. It’s the one place where I encounter a community of compatriots, a small yet critical mass, that give me hope that a revival is possible.”

I continued: “Yes, I set out to use social media to change one mind at a time too. But it is also where one sees the magnitude of the problem.”

I added that as a nation, social media has given us the privilege to see the thinking process of some of our political leaders; thoughts written not by speechwriters. Some of what is written is frightening.

We do need a renewal of our minds and very urgently. This misogyny at the highest and lowest levels of our society is a reflection of something deeper: our deficiency in having intellectual discussions devoid of insults and personality attacks.

In my book, I Speak of Ghana, page 111, I wrote: “People would resort to insults rather than keep focus on the argument; and they do so when they have lost the capacity to debate intellectually.”

We are where we are. I have a little girl, who I am training to be assertive, intelligent, inquisitive, questioning and strong. I wish for her to be respected for her views as a human being. This is why this posturing must be condemned in no uncertain terms.

Which is why Wofa Kapokyikyi was right that I spoke my thoughts.Which is why we should continue to empower our women to speak and to express themselves. To be confident. Not to be defined by what a man says they are by a ring. Or lack of it. We must cure this. If it is due to ignorance, we must preach enlightenment and banish it.

Which is why we should continue to empower our women to speak and to express themselves. To be confident. Not to be defined by what a man says they are by a ring. Or lack of it. We must cure this. If it is due to ignorance, we must preach enlightenment and banish it.

For as Joanna Russ said, “Ignorance is not bad faith. But persistence in ignorance is.”

Finally, those who persist in this ignominy must be told that this is Sikaman. We crossed that pre-historic line when Yaa Asantewaa marched.

Till I come your way again with another sebitical, I remain:

Sebitically yours,
Kapokyikyiwofaase (Nana Awere Damoah)

Endnotes

Nkrataa: Book
Tapoli: Dumb-bell shaped wooden tool used for grinding in an earthware bowl (apotoyiwa)
Siketi: Adulteration of the word ‘skirt’
Ahenfie: Chief’s palace
Dumsor: Power outage/load-shedding
Dumkoraa (Twi): Dum means ‘put off the lights’, koraa means completely or permanently
Odikro: Chief of a town
Abrewa: Old woman; wise woman
This is the second of the unpublished Sebiticals. Enjoy this, written in May 2015, after the Dumsor Must Stop Vigil.

The post A century on, a man born not of Yaa Asantewaa appeared first on Citi 97.3 FM - Relevant Radio. Always.

At the gutter, fortunate thieves got rescued by the police, who had to risk their lives to save these thieves. The unfortunate thieves got their home addresses changed to aquatic burial grounds. The treatment before the coup de grace varied in their gruesome creativity. Once, one guy got an enema of coal tar before being dispatched into glory. Or hell, to be more precise.

So, Akwesi Burger, a well-known criminal near the Maxwell Hotel area, considered himself lucky when he was rescued and sent to court, before being sentenced to ten years imprisonment with hard labour. One of those who really beat him up was Egya Nsiah, a painter. Akwesi never forgot him.

Ten years came quickly, and Akwesi was released from prison. On his way home, he came across Egya Nsiah painting the sides of a four-storey building. He looked up the ladder the painter was on and called out, loudly:

“Egya, I greet you!”

“Yaaaa nua!” Egya responded.

“Do you remember some years ago, a thief was caught near Nkansah Djan, and you were involved in getting him to the police?”

“Oh yes! I remember it like yesterday! I really beat him up to my heart’s desire! He should have even been killed, such people don’t deserve to like!”

Calmly, Akwesi held on the ladder and called out, “Well, I am that thief, and I never forgot how you thrashed me. Please find somewhere to stand, because I am taking this ladder away!”

In the name of Wofa Kapokyikyi who has the memory of an elephant and who says he can forgive, but never will forget, the man who says it as it is, I greet you.

It was Wofa who said that even though the bird flies and lives on a tree, when it dies its body comes back to earth.

In Form One in the school Osagyefo first built, the closest relative to The Wailers was a tall, fearsome senior of ours called Vandyke. For sure, his favourite expression was ‘Legalise it’! He who is in tune with the spirit of psychedelic delights will understand this.

One of the competencies that every junior needed to hone was the ability to run down the stairs from the top floor of the houses and exit the common room at the ground floor, hiding under the windows in front of the house to run across to the Academic areas without being spotted by the sharp eyes of those seniors who didn’t go out of their dormitories except when there was fun fair or scattey in the dining hall.

One day, one small boy ran down the stairs in Kwesi Plange House and didn’t turn back when Senior Vandyke bellowed his name. It was mid-terms and the boy wasn’t going to back into the dormitory for all the sopi in the dining hall! He knew if he did, he would end up being sent on errands the entire weekend.

As he ran off, Senior Vandyke chuckled and muttered to him, “Make you go! No bi mid-terms? Long vacation sef, they go a, they dey come back!”

The blessedness of time. Ah, the bosom of time disbosoms a tonne.

So it is that when people get into higher positions, they forget that the higher you are, the heavier you fall. But, time flies and even eight years come to pass, eventually.

Soon, both words and actions come full cycle. And the loss of power declutters the mind and descales the eyes.

Watch your words and actions, for soon, words and actions past answer the present. In other cases, words and actions present soon answer and judge the past.

I said once that the beautiful thing about patience and the bosom of time is that words used to put someone in his or her place today will be the same words that embarrasses or implicates the speaker tomorrow. Especially in this fast-paced world, time lap appears most microscopic.

Power has just changed in Sikaman and realignments are in progress. As the engine of the train exchanges places with the caboose, let the engine reflect and let the caboose-turned-engine learn that even long vac sef, they go a, they dey come.

Till I come your way again with another sebitical, I remain:

Sebitically yours,
Kapokyikyiwofaase

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By: Nana Awere Damoah

The post Sebiticals: Even long vac sef, they go a, they dey Come! appeared first on Citi 97.3 FM - Relevant Radio. Always.

Me: Akosua, I’m going for a book reading at 5:30pm today oo.

Akosua: You kraa what boring life are you living? You’re dressing up to go sit down and fall asleep?!

If I had listened to my best friend, I most probably would’ve missed out on one of the most exciting, fun-filled things I’d have encountered in my entire lifetime.

Romancing Oseikrom Sebitically: A Book Reading, was a program put together by three renowned writers Nana Awere Damoah, Kofi Akpabli and Alba K. Sumprim. With daily Facebook posts as my countdown I was totally and completely gingered up at 5:30pm as I entered the auditorium. Just before I could get to the door I met Uncle Kofi. My heart skipped ten beats! After the exchange of greetings, he asked if I knew him personally, to which I replied in the negative, telling him that the closest I had ever been to knowing him was via Facebook- now that brought forth a smile and a statement I never expected; Send me a friend request and we’ll take it from there. Kuukua Yawson could’ve fainted! I smiled. I just smiled and replied with a resounding ‘definitely’. All emotions within me could not be brought out yet- the program had not even begun!

Oseikrom’s romance story started on a humorous note, all thanks to our exceptional moderator and a new friend of mine, David Aglah. His mannerisms and jokes set the tone for what promised to be an awesome event.

The book reading was to be done in three major sessions, with interludes in-between. These interludes were for interaction with the audience, giving them the opportunity to give submissions, ask questions and also share experiences which were in relation to book excerpts that had been read.

The first session was really exciting and cannot be easily forgotten. Nana Awere started our journey with the ever famous ‘You know you’re in Ghana when…..’ piece. All examples given were as typical of us as Ghanaians.

• You know you’re in Ghana when journalists, like sign writers, do not use dictionaries.
• You know you’re in Ghana when drivers attempt a U-turn at a T-junction.

Nana’s examples took me back to various instances I’d experienced, but had never really read meaning into, simply because they were occurrences I’d considered a normality in the society. A famous example would be our president being blamed for our frequent power outages (Mahama has taken our light!). He also made me realize how happy we are as a country; no matter the situation, Ghanaians had a way of bringing out its humorous side, all in a bid to keep their sanity.

The wheel was taken over by Kofi Akpabli who engaged us in an emotional talk about fufu. I was transported back home, to all the Sundays I spent watching my parents engage in a game of fufu pounding.

Daddy is sweating as he pounds, with mummy rhythmically swerving the pestle. My brother and I are fighting endlessly about whose turn it is to clean up after the game came to an end. All those worries and fights practically evaporated as soon as the fufu was set before us, with daddy getting his usual- two gigantic mountains (probably because of his hard work and loss of body fluids).

I longed for one Sunday, just one Sunday back at home for one last bowl of soft fufu with thick soup!

Alba! Or should I say Araba Sumprim. She charmed us with her personality, as well as her style of reading. With tales based on our very famous catch phrases ‘Are you sure?’, ‘3ny3 hwee’, Alba left us laughing and clapping until the very last sentence.

The second and last sessions were just as exciting. We discovered a great aspect of Ghanaian culture: Soup, as well as the various methods of its consumption. We took a trip to an all new version of the Olympics, where Ghana was greatly represented and assured a silver medal in one and one sport only- Spitting! We drank a few glasses of Akpeteshie, the drink that surpasses Jack Daniels in sales without any form of advertisement! We even earned a lot of REES-PECT from fellow Rasta men who identified with our new hairstyle.

The book reading ended on a very commendable note: Sobolo! Clara Fianu’s Norte Sobolo is one of the best original sobolo I’ve ever had (an excellent ratio of sugar: sobolo). There was lots of popcorn and books. We had the chance of taking pictures with the writers individually and even as a group (their first ever after a reading).

Now my story begins.

After the reading, all I wanted was a photograph. Not just any photograph, but one with all three writers at the same time. Simple? Not in the least. Let me explain why.

Here I was, looking for the writers after the reading for my number one wish list item. I found Kofi Akpabli, right beside the entrance. I smiled. I began searching for NAD (who was on the other side of the entrance taking photographs) and Alba (who had been captured by more than a dozen other people for book signings), only to look back at the entrance to find that uncle Kofi had disappeared. This went on forever and by that I mean FOREVER!

I waited.

And waited.

It was almost 10pm- still no photograph. By this time the entrance was practically empty, leaving just the organizers and myself. I kept waiting.

NAD: We’re leaving oo! It’s getting late.

I could’ve cried! I still had not taken my photograph! I looked at Kobby Blay (the photographer) and looked at them, my face looking like I could cry any second. Realization struck and he quickly led me to them. Finally!

Nana was shocked; Kofi, not so much because I had made him aware earlier; Alba was….can I say happy?

So at 10 something pm, two legendary photographs were taken- the all serious photograph, and the swag-filled photograph (a splendid bonus!). As if that was not enough, I, Kuukua Tsetsewa Yawson, a simple happy child, had the opportunity to sit in the same vehicle with all the writers! ALL THREE OF THEM! Not just Nana, not just Kofi, not just Alba! The whole squad! Saturday felt like my birthday all over again (minus the cake lol).

Saturday was all in all, an awesome day for Oseikrom and we’re looking forward to more of such events in the years to come. I’d like to say thanks again to NAD, Kofi and Alba for being sebitically all shades of fantastic in their writings, readings and interactions. I’m officially never missing another reading session for anything in the world!

Kukie?.

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By Maame Akua T. Yawson

The writer, Maame Akua T. Yawson, is a fourth year Architecture student at the Kwame Nkrumah University of Science & Technology and blogs at www.notesofakukieblog.com.

The post Sebitically speaking: A romantic encounter with Oseikrom appeared first on Citi 97.3 FM - Relevant Radio. Always.

The event is scheduled for 5:30 pm at Kumapley Hall, Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology (KNUST).

Dubbed “Romancing Oseikrom Sebitically,” it offers a lively evening of literary pleasure and though-provoking discussions on Ghanaian contemporary life.

Patrons from within and outside KNUST campus are expected to be charmed and enthralled by excerpts from books such as Sebitically Speaking, Romancing Ghanaland, Tickling the Ghanaian and I Speak of Ghana.

This is the first time the duo is performing outside Ghana’s capital and the Kumasi session is set to snowball into future readings in the other regions.

For the second time running, the reading pair are featuring Alba Sumprim, author of The Imported Ghanaian and A Place of Beautiful Nonsesense as their Guest Reader. Alba’s sensational outing at the Accra event is still talk of the town.

While the Jamrock event scored very high in the number of high society patrons which included Deputy Minister of Tourism Dzifa Gomashie, PPP running mate, Bridget Dzorgbenuku, Prof. Adams Bodomo, Prof. H. Kwasi Prempeh, and Eugenia Tachie-Menson, the Kumasi event is expected to record the largest audience ever at any book reading in Ghana.

‘‘As intellectual entertainers, we have been receiving requests to come out of Accra. We cannot continue not to serve other regions. We have to do this, and Oseikrom is deserving of this historical first’’, said Kofi Akpabli, communication lecturer and CNN Award winning journalist.

Under their Dakpabli Readathon, the campaign by the two authors to promote reading for pleasure among Ghanaians started in 2011. With 10 books between them, the two writers continue on their mission to make reading hip again, and to take writing and reading to the level of pop culture.

‘We believe that reading should be done for pleasure as well, and not only for exams and industry. By doing this we also aim to diversify the social offerings currently available on our entertainment scene”, stated Nana Damoah who is also a chemical Engineer and an alumnus of KNUST College of Engineering.

In their readings so far, the two have received sponsorship from THREADEX, WearGhana, Norte Sobolo, AJ’s Housekeeping Services, Lincacar, WatsupTek, hyperActive and MTN, the latest sponsor, who streamed the JamRock event live.

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By: citifmonline.com/Ghana

The post Kumasi catches Akpabli and Damoah book reading fever appeared first on Citi 97.3 FM - Relevant Radio. Always.