Cheating…can you resist? Ask Kobby in the conclusion of this story right here (in case you’ve not read it yet). Enjoy!

 

6:00am, Valentine’s Day.

Kobby was in the shower, preparing for his day whilst Joy was finishing off with some light reading she’d picked up a week before.

She didn’t go snooping per se – no – but he’d left his phone screen-up on the bed as usual and she just happened to instinctively glance that way when it beeped a Whatsapp alert. She picked it up and was about to call out to him that he’d gotten a message from “Go Away” with a giggle when her finger unintentionally brushed against the sensor, unlocking it and displaying the racy selfie Charlene had just sent him in a smidgen of underwear!

Her heart skipped a beat as she choked on the giggle. The woman had captioned it, “How will I have you tonight, Naughty or Nice?” and that just drove her into palpitations! She felt her world closing in around her, as if the panic attacks of her bouts of childhood asthma were coming back all at once.

What was this?! As if she hadn’t paid her dues trudging all of the way down the Broken Road that had finally led her to Dr. Kobby Akorful, now this was what she was confronted with. Was he having an affair?! Her blood ran cold at that thought and she simultaneously felt a heavy hand squeeze her heart at the pain of the thought. Am I not enough for him? Was it anything I did? Can Kobby be this heartless and cruel?! These thoughts ran through her mind in a few seconds and it was all she could do to press down on the panic she was feeling just then so it wouldn’t consume her.  Read More Tempted to Touch II

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Living in Ghana, I think we learn about God firstly through a sensational experience before we learn about Him any other way. Maybe because your mother or father had someone pray over you and you were forced to feeeeel the Spirit before you even know who or what he was and why he was so intent on being felt by you.

You rarely get an explanation of who the Trinity is, what their purpose is, or who is who in said Trinity. You must believe because your father believes, and your father’s father, and their parents before them. And God forbid you be the one who doesn’t follow the path the ancestors have set. No questions can be asked, because how dare you question God?

Based on that experience, of relating to God viscerally before you can relate to him emotionally or mentally, I think, I think we tend to become slaves of that visceral feeeeling of God.

There’s nothing wrong with that though…right? How do you know God is there if people aren’t wailing and you not breaking out in goosebumps everywhere? And if that’s how to feel God, I don’t think I feel God anymore.

Read More I Don’t Feel God Anymore

Blog Religion

So my friend’s lifelong dream of travelling to the US was dashed last Thursday, not due to a Trump executive order, his story is more graphic. His whole office knew he was going for a visa interview. His wife was preparing a visa approved supper and intra-copular after-parry. He wore his favourite suit and had his ashrishrishri game on like no one’s business. In fact my friend’s ashrishri game is so tight I was sure the consular officer was going to confuse him for a childhood friend. But alas, that was not to be.

The impudent officer didn’t care who the heck my friend was or the non refundable dollars that was on the line here. He didn’t care that my friend with his vivid imagination had already arrived at JFK and was only waiting for his giant brown suitcase to show up on the carousel so he’d check out into the chilly New York morning. He didn’t care that this my friend already had a $200 winter jacket gift from his cousin in his baggage, waiting to be worn on arrival. He was too busy, he had a lot to do, he just wasn’t buying my friend’s story, so there and then nor he bounced the guy. Chaaiiiii, wharrashock! My friend -being accustomed to bribing Ghana police- wasn’t sure whether slipping a GHC 5 note to this guy would make a difference. Read More The Prophet Is Too Busy For You!

Blog Religion

“Doctor, I think I want to know you even better. I…I want you… ”
*silent pause*
“Well…I’m sorry madam but that is not covered under your insurance policy!”

Mrs Oteng did not appreciate the joke he’d turned her proposal into and frowned, first in confusion and then in annoyance.

“Kobby, it’s me Charlene. You know how I feel about you. Why are you treating me this way?”

He steeled himself to her words, cursing the stars that had connived for his consulting room nurse to spend longer than she usually did on her lunch break this afternoon. He had to control the situation, and fast.

“Charlene, okay let’s be serious for a minute. Have you suddenly forgotten your husband of 3 years and that I’m a married man now too? You know this line of conversation is totally inappropriate, right?”

She didn’t look fazed in the least. Read More Tempted to Touch

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YOU cannot, if you’re not a person of colour, wear cornrows, or rasta, or even wear your hair in what might remotely resemble a natural ‘fro. You’re aiding in cultural appropriation, and it’s just down right wrong.

You can’t refer to baby hairs if you, as a matter of fact, do not have baby hairs. If you have thin long hair, that is almost the same length as the rest of your head of hair, you are aiding in cultural appropriation.

How dare the thought of wrapping your head with designer scarves even come up? When women around the world are being shamed for wearing a headwrap?!

How can you call a black person “black” and not a person of colour? Do you even realise how offensive that is? It is not okay to assume a person who is biracial is black simply because one of their parents is. They are actually a very equal mix of both races. That’s why they are called biracial people.

Read More You Must Be Politically Correct

Blog

In the 70s, 80s and early 90s, there was no social media, the world wasn’t as fast moving as it is now so married men watched DSTV in-between the thighs of house helps and other mistresses. I doubt I know someone without a stepsibling; even I have a couple myself. It’s like the norm of the age; if you didn’t have a step, you weren’t trendy and your dad was dolu. Not having a step back then is like not knowing what #Onaapo means now.

Generous spermination isn’t the only fault our fathers had. Many were tyrants. They ruled mothers and children like colonies. How dare you tell me ‘eh’?! Some were like that man who slapped his son for no reason. Son’s eyes welled up with tears he hadn’t budgeted for “But, but, but what did I do dad?” With a scowl on his face, dad said “Just in case.” Read More I Don’t Want To Be Like My Father!

Blog

Last week was not easy. I’m not talking about for the nation Ghana or her new President (#NADAA_Abrε). I’m talking personally here.

 

A friend of mine lost someone very close after a relatively short but intense illness and it ended up sending me into a spin!

People would be surprised, I’m sure, what with doctors allegedly being so used to death that we seem practically immune to its effects. Well, that’s what I thought too at the back of my mind somewhere.

Don’t get me wrong though, I’m way past the bleeding heart doctor of Izzy’s caliber. I’ll confess that it usually only tends to be upsetting for just about the brief minute or two for me to have to tell a relative of a patient that we just lost, “I’m sorry, madam. We tried all we could. We couldn’t revive her after the 3rd time her heart stopped beating despite our best efforts. We lost her.” Or even, “You’re the man now, that’s why I’m telling you and not her mother. I know it feels like you want to lose it here right now, but for the sake of the rest of the family you have to keep your sh** together. It will get better for you all, but right now they need you to keep it together.” Read More Nothing Has Changed!

Inspiration Uncategorized

For a guy, porn is like the easiest thing to get addicted to. If making it in life was as easy as getting addicted to porn, broke guys would be as rare as an eclipse. It is such a seemingly normal but intensely powerful addiction to have. I myself was addicted to porn for years. In Commonwealth Hall, even if you wanted to steer clear of it, your roomies’ pen drive you borrowed to just copy an assignment will have some Brazilian one on it. Or you’d be returning from studying late and then be confronted by the live action going on on the computer screen of the guys two rooms before yours who didn’t bother to close the door.

In Legon it was easier to find porn than those small blue New Testament Bibles. I knew guys with a porn stash huge enough to run a 30 minute weekly show on TV for 25 years without repeating an episode. Their hard drives were so full of porn I wondered if that’s why they called them hard drives. Porn is probably the most successful dark manoeuvre because it has become as normal as a glass of beer. There is no shame in watching porn these days, in fact the coolest dudes share porn clips as jokes. Back in the day, a funny video would be of Lil Wyn saying ‘I cant think far.’ Now it’s of a guy staring at a wobbly jelly ass and tripping into a gutter.  It’s so ‘funny’, it’s normal…surely, it couldn’t be wrong. Or could it? Read More The Porn Constipation

Blog

IT was almost Christmas and I was checking in with one of my girls, Aba. She was getting ready to make a trip home. She was, understandably, excited because she planned a trip the year before and couldn’t make it. I didn’t help by telling her how much she missed out. As per usual, we had already made plans and were ready to discuss how we were going to spend Christmas. We also planned for spontaneous plans. I know. However, Aba in Ghana always means something spontaneous is going to happen. Said something usually involves some man.

“Are you excited?” I asked.

“Small”

“Because all your boys are there,” I retorted.

“On the lowest key, I’m excited to get regular smooches.”

“Waa shr3, I know you too well. Kwame and Bobby?”

“Not Bobby anymore. He’ll be there, but more Kwame.”

“You might get married to Kwame.”

“Don’t even go there.”

“I’ve gone papa.”

“Haha. Hmm. Not unless he changes.”

“Oh please, you were there supporting his trifling behaviour, he’s not going to change.”

Read More You Cannot Do Better

Blog

Reverend Kwaku Asaph was beaming from ear to ear. This would be his last sermon at the main City branch of the United Christian Church in Ghana but he seemed to have overcome the deep sadness he’d been feeling ever since he’d finally decided to retire from active pastoring.

He’d felt led to do so ever since two months ago when he’d received that letter but as a pastor, he’d warred within for the first month. In fact, he’d started by binding the still voice, fasting and praying for 14 days at a point! He’d finally accepted the conviction as genuine when he’d been woken up from sleep one morning. A quiet voice, as clear as a bell but as soft as a breeze, spoke next to his ear, Isaiah 43:19…

He’d rolled over in bed, careful not to disturb the Rev. Mrs., and reached for his reference bible. He’d taken to sleeping with a dimmed night light on over the past few months so he could see the words clearly now in its light. He smiled as he quietly repeated the words to himself:

For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.

If he had any doubts about the veracity of the idea that had been bouncing around in his mind over the past month or so, this Word silenced it.

A bit prone to the dramatic, the Reverend lay back on the bed with his bible spread out on his chest and smiled as he drifted off to sleep again.

Can’t wait for this Sunday… Read More The Last Sermon

Inspiration Religion Uncategorized