I think the saddest thing is when someone meant to be outstanding compromises and dilutes his passion and energy just to fit in. I watched this interesting social experiment where at the sound of a bell, everyone in a hospital waiting area stood up for a second and sat again. All but one of the people in the waiting room were participants in the experiment. The whole point was to see what that one person who was clueless of it all would do. She stood, and sat, and stood and sat- at first reluctantly, and then willingly, to the point that when it was just her remaining, she continued to stand at the prompting of the bell. When new people came in, she alerted them to do same. She so completely fit in!

What about those of us made to stand out? Those of us who are extraordinary by design? Those of us with talents and gifts to change how people live? I’m not talking about aliens or some strange people, I’m talking about you, the child of God! Our heritage as children of God is to be salt (aka the outstanding) and light (aka extraordinary) of the earth. So it doesn’t matter what you do for a living, you have it in you to be impactful! Read More Forgive me, I tricked you.


So the first part to this story seems to have caused quite a stir. It’s been a long wait and i’ve lost count of the number of emails that have come in demanding this. You have no idea how relieved I am that this’ done. You were patient, so in appreciation I have a surprise waiting for you at the end of this read. I promise you never ‘esperred’ it, but you’d love it.

So picking up from where Kingsley sprung up on Maame that he had a confession to make, here goes;

 *          *          *


She arrived at Alisa some minutes late. When he saw her, when he beheld her, she would have been worth many more hours of waiting for.

“Sorry I’m late.” She said, sitting down. She didn’t explain further, she didn’t need to.

“It’s…it’s fine” he stuttered. The waiter came with his plastic smile one, Kingsley beckoned him to give them a minute.

“I have a confession to make Maame. Please don’t judge me.”

“Can I have a drink first?” it was a question, but with the subtlety of a statement.


Maame wasn’t thirsty, but she’d rather gulp kerosene than be caught unawares. She needed the time to work her mind, to psyche it, to think of all the unimaginable things he could say, to conceive news so terrible that he couldn’t shock or disappoint her. It was one of her many defense mechanisms.

She smiled and took her pretty time to sip on the glass the waiter had just filled up. Kingsley was gittery. It was like being underwater and running out of air; he had only so much nerve.

“I have a daughter, she’s four years old.” He blurted.

She said nothing, her face revealed nothing.

“Last day of Legon, we got too excited. We knew we didn’t belong, but I didn’t see how I could turn away from my responsibility. So four years later, I still think my Lisa is the most adorable daughter ever.”

“I see.”

“Do you? Maame? Because I’m fully aware that what I’ve said could cost me you. It’s possible you’ll decide that this’ just too much weight. I told you because I hoped you’d realize that if at the risk of losing you before I even stood a chance I still came clean with you, there’d be nothing I’d hold back –ever.”

Dang this guy was good! Or was he? By the way, who does that? Lays a ton on a first date? Who told him he stood a chance? O wait, he said he knew he didn’t. Eii, too much to process and look calm at the same time. Time to detour. Read More The Smirnoff Rapist -II

short story

Rape newI know no other girl as bubbly, warm and smart as my Senegalese friend Celine. Small wonder we became good friends after just one semester in Legon. Recently she was in Ghana on a work-related visit, so we met up for lunch. It had been so long since I last saw her, so our conversation transgressed all topics, till something about sexuality came up.

“I’m not a virgin” she said casually as she tore off a slice of the four-seasons pizza we’d been enjoying (it was terrific Tuesday). “Really?” The naughty in me couldn’t hold back the urge to hear the details.

“I was raped.”

I cringed, blinked sporadically and felt my tongue grow thick and cold. For the first time in the six years I’ve known her, she had me utterly agape with the story she told me.

“Senegal is a lot different from Ghana. I started working in a bank when I was 17. I got the job because I was fluent in French, and multi-linguals were on high demand; irrespective of age. I looked up from my desk one Wednesday afternoon to find a gorgeous, not-really-tall, but innocent looking heart throb standing there in need of some help. We became friends easily. We started talking from time to time and met up once or twice. I should have suspected he had other interests, but mah-myy, the guy looked so angelic.

A large part of Senegal has no reliable electricity, so 80% of those who can afford it fully rely on generators. One time, I forgot to get diesel for our generator and my brother and folks were out. It was so dark I couldn’t even see my hand when I stretched it. The pitch-black darkness had me feeling very uneasy, so when my phone rang and it was this cutie on the line, I was strangely delighted. I told him about the scary darkness and how kinda scared I was. He told me not to worry at all, and that he was in the neighborhood, so he’ll come for me and send me to his end, where there was light.

I was delighted and thought how great a friend he was. He did come for me, and he did send me to his house. It was just us. That was the last night of an 18-year virginity. I swear I didn’t see it coming. As if the rape wasn’t good enough, he verbally abused me. He didn’t need threats to keep my mouth shut, the humiliation, stigma and the feeling that I’m probably to blame did the job for him. Two years later he bumps to me in the middle of the street, kneels down in tears and begs for forgiveness. Imagine that!! Since then, I’m even more wary of the innocent-looking ones.”

I looked at Celine with mixed emotions; rage especially. I was angry on her behalf. But it was pointless; her talking about it was proof that she’d finally gotten over it…6 years later, after feeling so dirty and unworthy of any decent guy.

So now to the real crux of this post; first aid responses to a potential rape situation. This essentially depends on the guy standing before you though.

rape2If he is a newbie, someone you know already, but who’s too horny or drunk on a certain night.

It’s not always smart to be gidigidi, sometimes a calm and controlled response from you could turn him off quicker than he got turned on. I have a friend -Maame, who’s a master of this response.

Unannounced, some guy starts groping her, and reaching for her lips. She just stood there cold, like a log with the most disgusted look on her face (not frightened). She looked at him like how a mother would look at her 12-year old son she’s caught watching porn.

When for a brief second he caught the look in her eyes, she turned and spat on the floor. “Are you done?” she asked him. The way she asked it, the tone and the wording, it psychologically overpowered him. It was like finding out that the girl you thought was hot and vulnerable is actually your mother’s elder sister. Usually guys who this’ll work on are the ones who mistakenly think that by forcefully initiating a make-out, your initial protest will turn into unbridled passion. For those guys, you’ve got to find a way to overpower them psychologically. Their lust is fueled by the impression of you as a Read More How Rape-able Are You? PART II


RAPE1Many of the girls you’re friends with have either been raped before or have had a close encounter with it. Some barbaric, out-of-control dude whose gray matter resides not in his head, but has been liquidized and deposited in his testes has taken liberties with so many of our girlfriends. I think it’s serious. Seriously sad.

The ambitious thing I’m going to try to do -based on stories heard and articles read- is to put myself in a rapists mind and evaluate you. I’m hoping that in knowing how ‘rapeable’ you are and adding to the few suggestions I’ll make you’ll never be a victim of even a near-rape experience.

I have many friends who have been in rape situations, a few narrowly escaped it. You know what’s amazing? the culprits weren’t random strangers o, they were friends. Point number one is; watch out for the strange Psychos, but watch your guy friends even more, especially the ones you’ve turned down before.

By the time a guy’s willing to defy all common sense and steal your flower (as Monica in F.R.I.E.N.D.S will put it), he has mentally undressed you a couple of times, probably fantacized and masturbated with the images of you in his mind. Having sex with his visual images of you has gotten boring. The several semi-nude photos of you he downloaded from face book have Read More How Rape-able Are You?

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