Feels like January was just a week ago doesn’t it? I mean how long ago was it when your birthday seemed so far off? And now, minus the December guys we’ve all had Facebook friends who never bothered suddenly spare enough time to say HBD, GBU, LLNP or some by-force acronym to spite political parties. And now 2016 is 5 weeks away! There is something that happens 5 weeks to year end that I detest passionately and you’ll see why shortly.

We start each year with enough optimism to turn a funeral into a farewell party. We have six key goals that we must achieve and three new habits we must cultivate and one major weakness we must shed off…then when the last quarter creeps up on us like an unexpected breakup we carry forward all our hopes to the next year.

I resent that. I resent that we hide behind our hopes for next year to give up on this one. Next year is coming in weeks so you dier, let me turn everything I haven’t been able to achieve yet into a prayer topic for next year. We remove our gloves and hang up our boots when November starts breathing down our shoulders, but that is just not consistent with all the classic action feems. Read More Killer Bewu Last Show!


Every day draws us further into our future and further away from our past. As I also keep saying, “the mistakes you make in your early 20’s have far more grievous consequences in your later 20’s“. If you’re going to toe the line the majority will, sooner or later you’re going to become someone’s wife or husband. I’ve also come to see that we put so much effort into preparing to get married that we fail to realise that we’ve put in zilch effort into being married, by the time we are married…and that’s one surefire recipe for disaster, guys (more on that in another post down the line though).  Ladies, ever been taken home to Mama before? Did you pass?? Oh, you didn’t realise it was a test?! Like seriously?? *Whew* Then read on – everybody does well with some apor after all 😉


I’m writing from this angle because I’m… *sigh* (I know this will get me into a lot of trouble but I’m going to say it In This Context Alone and then it is Finished…!) I am Mama’s boy. I’m the last born and the only son of my mother so you’ve got to believe me when I say I’ve got some right (or is it responsibility?) to write this today. I sometimes write stuff that needs to be said too – and heard – at least once in your life by a close friend (whom you’ll hopefully believe…but I digress).

My attention was drawn to an old piece I wrote some time ago –  about who a Lady was – by a friend of mine a week ago and as I went through it all over again my Muse started whispering in my ear. She asked me a simple question: “What next?” Read More Taking Her Home to Mama


Not everyone who visits here is a reader, some are actually more inspired writers than myself.

I was there last week norr and Constante hit me up “Ben, I’ve written this piece and I must share it with the world.” So that wish is coming to pass, and not because she asked, but rather because when I read it, I knew it was the kind of thing you’d like. From how it goes, you won’t need to know the lady to know she’ll be good at romancing paaah. Lol. Enjoy

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I recently bumped into an old friend of mine. We hadn’t met in years and the memory he had of me was so belated. So he started acting with me accordingly, until he realised that both my dance and the drumming had changed. Then he exclaimed: ‘You’ve changed! Read More Romancing God -By Constante Gakpo


So…I’d have sung a song to melt your hearts to convince you to forgive me once again, but this is too serious of a matter to outsource to comedy so I trashed that idea.


Comeback _ whisperI woke up yesterday morning with the once-familiar voice whispering in my ears and I shot up out of my convalescent bed and started typing quickly before my Muse could decide to vanish abruptly again, as she has in the past few months.

For the first time in a long time, I managed to finish a piece in record time but I decided to talk to Benjy first to sort out another issue before posting it. That was when he drew my attention to the necessity for this particular piece to come out before the one I penned yesterday. Read More Let’s Try This Again…


My favorite TV ad from the 90s was about a man with an unhealthy faith in a shady lotto doctor who predicted winning lottery numbers that never won. His wife, smelling the lotto doctor’s rot, asked her man;

“So why is the lotto doctor not rich?”

“O, he’s a good Samaritan, that’s all.” And that’s how that classic phrase was born.

That line reminds me of simpler days and I smile. Italso reminds me of the one thing I vowed never to be; a signboard, pointing to a destination I won’t enjoy myself. I’d be anything but that lotto doctor who didn’t heed his own predictions. All these months I’ve talked about dreaming big, asking more of life, daring to achieve, making a generational impact and all those fancy things that really are easier said than done. Read More Why Is The Lotto Doctor Not Rich?


A few times a year, I receive an email that reconfigures my entire outlook on life. It usually comes from Goldinwords readers I’ve never met. Last week one came through and I begged Akos to let me share it with you.

I know I am blessed and there’s so much so be grateful to God for, but every now and then I catch myself asking “Why not a 6 pack God? Would it have upset the course of history so much if I was 6ft tall? Why this slow metabolism God? Why wasn’t dad around more often? Why did you let my GHC 50 get lost last night? How can you claim to love me if you still haven’t answered the one prayer I’ve been making since 2011?”

You and I we’re like that. Small p3 then we find ‘proofs’ to the thought that God isn’t that loving or caring. Sometimes we get stuck in that rut and become angry and bitter. Akos talks about all the better reasons she had to think and feel same and how she resolved it. Her opening line is a knockout punch. Read More How To Settle A Beef With God


My friend’s dad said to him last month; don’t marry a woman from a broken home…she’ll be carrying her mother’s fears in her. I think there’s as much risk in dating a woman like that as there is in dating a man from a complete family but with an irresponsible dad. These days there are broken homes that are still together only in the technical sense.

You, me we’ve all been hurt before. In some ways we are the sum total of our pains and joys, our memories and experiences. The things we go through are the chisels that shape us into who we are, and in time, it becomes difficult to tell between hurt-induced opinions and God-induced ones. In time our subjective experiences find their way into our objective opinions. So when our carpenters, mechanics or bosses advice us, it’s laden with their individual experiences, which is easier to discern. The problematic ones are those that come from scarred parents.

I love the Krobos because of the sensual knowledge mothers and grandmothers pass on to daughters about to get married. All mothers pass on knowledge of sorts, but some pass on venom. They charge their daughters to avenge them for the lives their fathers held them back from leading. If a man cheated on them, they convince their daughters that all men are bleating goats, so don’t lose sleep over a promiscuous husband. Read More Mother Of The Bride


I’ve always had a hard time believing that the prayers I whisper in solitude have power to make any meaningful change in my life. For a very long time it made praying and ‘quiet timing’ seem like a ‘let me do it for doing sake’ activity than ‘the exercise of dominion’ activity it actually is. A few years ago, something extraordinary happened that changed the trajectory of my life and my response to these ‘mind games’. I have never spoken of it publicly, and even now, I’ll alter minor details, but the main facts will be unscathed.

Jones and I became very good friends many years ago . I don’t keep many close friends so there’s enough quality attention to give to the few. Jones was a great buddy. We had equally crazy ambitions, same love for bantering, wit and word games and a shared taste in beautiful women. The bad boys detested us because we won over the beautiful girls and just flirted playfully, ruining their chances of getting them and actually getting to base 3. Till date we’re tagged ‘The meat wasters.’ Read More Mind Games –The Story I’ve Never Told.


TweetI’m in the love groove today because my dearest little cousin is getting married tomorrow and I have the privilege of MCing it. To infect you with my mood, I’m…

Read More Alma Gemela


There’s a price to pay for dreaming big, wanting to count for something and make an impact. There’s a price to pay for craving the extraordinary and asking more of life. The paycheck that satisfies others will only make you snicker. The things that make others content doesn’t even reach your throat. You need to do so much more than the average person does to reach fulfillment. You are not impressed by the things that render most people speechless. You chase the intangibles of impact whilst many pursue the hardness of cash.

Sometimes it feels like something’s wrong with you. Why risk so much, why be so some way? Why not settle for what everyone seems to be settling for? “A man is a man is a man,” they say, “ they’re all alike, but for their lengths, so what are you waiting for? Just settle down!”

You are too picky, you take the fun out of everything. We’re joking when we say “We die finish o” why do you have to take it world cup and declare ‘Minus me and my family?’ what is it with you? Just chill mehn!

But we, we cant chill! Something burns inside of us that won’t let us. We can’t fake satisfaction when we know it can be done better. We cant sit and do nothing for too long. We think of better ways of doing things for so long, we finally just cant sit and do nothing, so we set out to do something, to chase a foolish dream. Read More Chasing A Foolish Dream