They are not so popular these days, but a few years ago wayside VCD sales was good business. One CD could carry as many as 25 Chinese films. Who needed hardrives when you could get the entire Police Academy collection on just one CD? I’m telling you, those sellers had enough content to run a blockbuster TV station! They displayed their CD collection on wooden stands and wide floor mats that could showcase hundreds of CDs at a time. If he had to move, he could carry the stand or put all his CDs into a big Ghana Must Go bag and be gone.

They usually set up at high human traffic areas like Circle, Kaneshie and the Accra Mall areas. So if you’re heading somewhere but have a minute to spare, you could scour through the collection and buy entertainment for a full month in one CD. There were many genres to choose from, but one in particular was traded in much the same way weed is passed around in a prison cell; the ‘Blue Feem’ –not film, feem. Read More The Lust Deception


I’m unmarried and I’m a guy so maybe I can’t understand why some women are so desperate to be Mrs. I can’t get how the sister doesn’t care that the man she’s calling ‘Baby’ has two teenage kids and a baby that’s still on breast-milk.

People like that see marriage as some sort of new beginning that forgives and forgets what you destroyed and who you crushed to get into it. As if once you walk down that aisle, everything else that isn’t adding up in your life will suddenly come together.

“I’m done with Uni, I just finished my National Service…I think the next major thing I have to do is to get married…latest by June next year.”

How can you give it a deadline like it’s some school admission date? It’s those kind of deadlines that make you desperate when you should be waiting on God. The fear of not meeting them drives you to make compromises you otherwise wouldn’t have…then playing foul to get him becomes okay…acceptable.

The shame with that is, you spend too much energy looking over your shoulders. Every house help, his female friends, even his pretty 3rd cousin is a threat. Read More The Husband Snatcher’s Nightmare.


I’ve always wondered why it was so important to God that we love Him like little children. Is heaven His Neverland Ranch? He said until we become like little children it will be difficult for us to enter heaven. But why? Why must being like a child be like some precondition to a successful relationship with God? Is it because children are so gullible that they’ll believe anything? Can we only succeed in our relationship with God if we’re shrouded in the characteristic naivety of a child? Is being like a child the only way we can scream in tongues without concluding that we are just making noise in the hope that we are speaking some mysterious language?

Is that why we think we’ve found religion when perhaps according to what some say, our Christianity is just our lazy humanistic way of explaining things we don’t understand about nature? For example we (including Elisha) didn’t get that lack of rainfall is due to things like deforestation and global warming, so we create an omnipotent God and attribute the lack of rain to his arbitrary will. Why don’t we grow up and make things happen for ourselves and get over this Christianity thing? Why don’t we realize that God is this big charade who is most efficient when we are like little kindergarten kids in relation to him? I pondered over this for a long time, and (pauses to laugh), you’ll be surprised where my answer came from. Read More Is God Like Michael Jackson?


Every now and then I get an e-mail from someone saying kind words or wanting to know my take on something. Days after the ‘Made By A Woman’ post, I got this mail from Maame Yaa. I’m sharing it because she permitted me to and also because if you are or know someone going through a breakup, you’ll find this very valuable.

O and I told her about the smart aleck you are so she’s looking to hear how you think she should deal with this situation. Here goes;

*        *        *

So Ben, I got dumped because I was not ready to settle down (BTW, I think we should stop saying getting married is settling down-its living!) ..and I am crushed because I never expected him to move on so fast ( FYI,  I never said ‘no’ to him, I knew his flaws but I was willing to be by his side, because hey, nobody is perfect). I felt I have personal stuff (in terms of confidence and assertiveness) I needed to work on before saying “I do”. Read More 1st Aid For Heartache.


The first part of this story endangered my life. I couldn’t tell for sure if the threatening whatsapps and emails or comments with knife, gun and needle emoticons were sent in jest or there was some seriousness to it. Since I’m not curious enough to find out, I have completed the story. Many people had predictions on how it would go, let me know if turned out as you thought.  Oh, and there’s a surprise waiting for you at the end. 

 Ok so enough of my blabbering. Taking off from where Mandy stepped into Mr. Crentsil’s office, ready to demonstrate Krobo Sutra…if it came to it. Here goes;

*          *          *


His office was a sight for sore eyes. A framed quote hung on the wall; “Simplicity is the ultimate form of sophistication”.

If that needed proof, well you just had to take a look around you. His desk was like the African cousin of The Resolute Desk. The only things on it were a statuette of a black jaguar about to leap and his 13” Mac Book Air. He got up from his black Nightingale chair smiling. She was surprised he wasn’t turned around looking through his floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Read More Mistress Of My Life II [Krobo Sutra]

short story

When she was in JSS, Mandy’s PE teacher took more delight in watching her play ampe than in organizing extra classes. She had always been irresistible to men. If she stepped out to get a cab, she’d end up in a Range with a wad of cash for airtime. It had always amused her ‘who buys airtime with GHC 500?’, but it never overwhelmed her because men had given her crazier things just for being hot.

One time as she waited along the road for Joe –her side boo- to pick her up after church, a matt-black Porche Cayenne screeched to a stop inches from her. He lowered his tinted windows as he reversed and wasted no time.

“Pretty girl, wherever it is you’re going, that’s my new destination.” Then he let out a funny unrhythmnic ‘Master Richard’ laugh. He looked mid-fifties, a little plump, clean-shaven, white Hackett Polo shirt, expertly manicured nails and a thick gold ring on his right middle finger. He sat in the brown leather seat like it was a throne.

“No thank you” she said politely “I’m fine.”

“O cammon, don’t be like that. See, these young boys, they’ll just waste your time. They’ll go plenty rounds and give you nothing. Me, after one round p3 I’ll be tired, but I’ll spend on you till the IMF notices it.”

She laughed so hard. That man wasn’t that dated, but she didn’t even hop in, and now she was about to do a lap dance for this man, this Mr. Crentsil. She was making the moves. She wanted him. Read More Mistress of My Life.


Many people end up with close-fit halves because they were afraid the perfect half may never show. So they settle with the ‘good enough’ at hand. But there’s a certain feeling reserved for those who get to be with the ying to their yang. It’s like a whole town told you to sleep because there was no tooth fairy, and the longer you stayed up the greater the fool you looked, but just before dawn she showed up and the joke was on the town!

For everyone with someone they fit right into, who had to wait or pay any price of any sort, this piece will fill you up. For those who are on the verge of settling with the next best thing, this may just give you ammunition to hold on a wee bit. Because when you find him, and when she finally makes the entrance! Ayaayaahyahyaaaii!

When Perfect Shows Up.

I was standing there all by myself,

Long after everyone was gone.

The voices in my head were starting to win;

There was no way I was going to meet a you. Read More When Perfect Shows Up


Maybe if you dig deep, veeeeerrrryy deep, you’ll find more than two kinds of men, but only these two interest me today; there’s the kind that go out looking for a woman to complete their jigsaw puzzle and  want the last thing left on their checklist struck out. Then there are those who have come to understand how influential the woman they spend their life with is to what becomes of them. To them, a woman isn’t an accessory, she’s an amplifier through which the feeble tone of their ambition can be heard the world over.

The former don’t really matter to me, and I don’t envy the women who end up with them. Usually, a woman who becomes the Mrs. to a man who already has all his chips in his pocket has much less say in his affairs. Her response to his folly, infidelity or insensitivity is cautiously expressed through the fear of forsaking the luxury she’s doused with. If he disappoints, she will threaten to leave many times but is very unlikely to, the trappings are too sweet so she redefines the determiners of a great marriage to the point where him returning to sleep home eventually is good enough and what ultimately matters. Oh but I digress, I’m really pumped up about the latter group. Read More Made By A Woman.


I had something else to write about this week o, but something just happened, and I’m its hostage till this is done.

I just came out of the loo. I don’t feel…I don’t feeeel (clears throat) released to tell you what exactly I did in there, but I can assure you it was a smooth success. No extended wait-time, no hiccups, a rather smooth excremental transaction which ensured that I had much less toxic substances in my body when I left than when I entered.

As I zipped up, I remembered something that arrested me and turned a seemingly normal incident into a humbling miracle. Read More  The Cash Value of Your Piss.


I used to have such a big mouth in primary school. Kusi would tell me about a wet dream he had of Maame, then later when Maame and I were hanging out I’d say “Doooooo yyoooouuuu knooowwww wwhoooooo haaasss been naughty with you without your permission?”

One time in class 6, just when adolescence had started touching all my classmates and biology was more visible and practical than all the other sciences, I was minding my own business on the verandah in front of my class when I noticed the girls playing ampe. I would have gone on to buy the cheap but insanely aromatic waakye sold under the tree nearby if it wasn’t Belinda on a row. She was getting all the ‘ostraatiis’ and okondors’ right, but it wasn’t that that caught my eye. I noticed that her chest was exceptionally…wobbly when she jumped.

Hmmm” I thought “This’ rather interesting.Read More Adventures Of A Big Mouth.