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.
“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.”