When drone photography started becoming a thing in Ghana some time last year, my friend Fii got a kit from Amazon. Fii has always loved photography. He saved for three months to afford the drone and it took a month for it to arrive in Ghana.

He was so excited, like the next-in-line cockerel looking on as the top cock is being prepared for lightsoup. The very next day, he took it to labadi beach to figure it out. He wanted to learn how to maneuver it somewhere trees and buildings wouldn’t get in the way. He fixed the blades and the other parts like the manual instructed, then he inserted the batteries in the drone and the remote. He set the drone in the beach sand, pressed the power button and touched the joystick on the remote lightly.

With a low buzz, the drone lifted clumsily like a dazed housefly. Fii was ecstatic! He’d never had a fancy toy as a boy nor gone to piloting school, but there he was flying this mini AirForce 1 chopper look-alike. After a few minutes he got the hang of it. He’d let it go high up, then bring it all the way down. He’d send it to the far end then pull it back in, but somewhere between here and there, he got a bit too excited. He flew it a bit too high, a bit too far over the Atlantic Ocean and when he pulled the joystick, setewaa, the drone didn’t return. The signal had broken and his fancy photography gadget was now heading towards Europe at 10 mph! Read More I’m coming home



I’ve always sinned, right from infancy. Some of my earliest sins included coveting my brothers bigger meat, lying that I wasn’t the one who used the toilet and didn’t flush, overly enjoying the stimulating warmth of being on Patience’s back as I played her son in a ‘Maame ne Paapa game and deciding that the coins on my mum’s bedside will be better off in my pocket for my Fan Spot icecream agenda.

Sinning then was doused with innocence and naivety. Conviction sometimes came. Perhaps because I couldn’t spell the word, I didn’t feel it so often.

Over the years though, I became more cognizant of sin. One of the prayers I often prayed was “Father make my conscience so sharp that I wont be able to find any pleasure in continuous sin.” I’d feel so terrible when I did something I know to be wrong, then I’d feel dirty and unworthy to talk to God, then I’d wander farther, then I’d do more wrong until suddenly I realize that “O goodness, I’m like a sitting duck right now!” Read More My Intimate Relationship With Sin.