I made the decision to go to school outside of Ghana. To some people this was the “normal” thing to do, to others a privilege. Either way, I was going to university abrokyrie. I was indifferent to the idea initially, to be honest. I was one of those children who had strict parents, but also had freedom a lot of my friends didn’t get. Ergo, the excitement other people got from the idea that they were going to be far away from their parents and be able to do whatever they wanted didn’t apply to me. I could already do what I wanted, within reason, and as long as it didn’t involve any life threatening, character-threatening things. It also had to conveniently fit in my curfew at the time.

Nevertheless, I looked forward to going to university and doing all the things that apparently university people did. Whatever that entailed. I had a few friends already in university and they were always chilling and having fun. Imagine my surprise when I got to university and the sort of fun and chilling people did was not the kind I was into. To add insult to injury, I could not stand the city I was in. I hated it. I had not, until that point, hated anything as much as I hated the city. I hated it so much when I was home for Christmas after my first semester I refused to get back on the plane. I wasn’t going back to that God-forsaken place. Nope. Not me. Read More Obedience Over Sacrifice


pretty girlHi pretty girl,

I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but it’s harder for you to find true love, than it is for a plain Jane. You are so hot that most of your romantic prospects pursue you for the wrong reasons. The symmetrical evenness of your bosom, along with the delicate curvature of your figure, topped by the sheer aesthetic genius of your face makes reasoning an impossible feat around you.

Jerry, Nana Kwame and all those other guys professing undiluted, undying love aren’t fooling you o, they’re acting under the duress of your gorgeousness. Sadly, it’s not a permanent state; they will awake at a point, and then reveal their true colors, then you’ll feel used.

It’s not your fault, your looks compete with your virtues, and when the lingering effect of your beauty has waned, the erstwhile cool dude changes, wondering what it was he saw in you in the first place.

Your beauty does so much for you. You don’t stress to get lifts, in fact, any time you step out there’re a range of flashy cars to choose from. It guarantees you flashy gadgets, clothes and favors plain Janes wont get even if they extended their eyelashes to touch the top of their heads. Gye se w’anka, whatever material thing you could need is just a flash away. So why are you so lonely? Is it true that there are more beautiful women with low self-esteem than there are Chinese phones for sale at Circle? Read More To Beautiful Women…


david & joseph

Many years ago, two good looking dudes lived, from two different eras, but with 1 crucial decision that altered their destinies; to chop, or not to chop.

David was a heart throb. So conspicuously good looking that when he stepped out to fight the fiercest Philistine warrior of his time, the savage scorned at him. If you’re so good looking that the man to kill you can’t help but notice it, then you must have been really something.

And Joseph, well his good looks almost got him royally screwed.

So I pulled a couple of strings, and got on a skype call with them. It wasn’t so difficult because we’d met before, sometime last year. Here’s what happened.


Me: I can’t help but notice that you guys had such similar circumstances. Both had many older brothers, more seemingly deserving of favor.

David: The Only difference is; my dad didn’t think that much of me, but Joe boy here meant the world to his dad.

Me: That’s true Joe. He made you a garment so beautiful and out of so much love that even many centuries after, Donny Parton made a hit country track based on it.

Joseph: Very funny.

Me: True o, but I find that the subtle difference in your upbringing told differently on how you turned out. David, you became a revered, legendary warrior. When your prospective father in law asked you to bring him the foreskins of a hundred philistine warriors, you brought him 200!

But you Joseph, it took only 11 guys to get you down into a pit and up for sale. Matter of fact, I don’t recall anything violent about you.

Joseph: Ummn… You it’s okay.

David:  (Snickering) Why Joe, cat caught your tongue?

Joseph: Well, it’s just that the way I see it, violence is a means to a certain end. If there’s another equally effective way of getting there without blood, I find that more….ummn appealing.

David: Really? So before Goliath, you’ll fall asleep and dream?

Me: Wow wow wow, easy guys. There’s so much to you two, we could be here forever, what I want to know more about were your love lives. How did you choose your women and all that?

David: I think Joseph should go first Read More Joseph & David’s take on SEX & Women.


drunk husbandMy friend Kobe has been around. Back in the day, he’d start his Friday night at Purple pub in Osu, where the booze was strong and cheap. He never stayed for longer than an hour, the real fun was elsewhere. He’d grind a little at Aphro, move to Boom, then return to Citizen Kofi in Osu. It was a summary of loud tracks, kaleidoscopic lights, cloud-smoke air, bare-clad women plus excess booze and loose morals. Sometimes, he’d go to Epo’s further down the road hungry. Their food and booze was much cheaper than in the clubs and they stayed open till dawn. That was usually the last point of call till he picked a drop home, all the way in Adenta. If he picked up a girl or a hooker (there’s usually little difference at that time of the night, at those places) he checked into the Blue Gate hotel or little Tokyo lodge and let lust reign.

But that was then. Now, he’s in the choir at his church. I call him the leashed beast and tease him about the havoc he could wreck in that small church choir if he should ever relapse. He tells me a lot about his past. I can tell he enjoys it because I’m always, always amazed. My pupils dilate, my lips part, my body leans in, like an enthralled kid hearing about ‘Madam Red High Heels’ for the very first time. Last week, he told me a story. It shook me. Read More The Drunken Husband.