Every now and then I get a mail saying ‘Hey Ben, so I wrote something and I’m wondering if it’s ok to share with everyone?’ I filter a lot of those because I know you and your very tiny tolerance. Immediately you cant see the head or tail of something pe you cant hide it. Why? Why kraa are you like that?
Lol, but it’s good, because it puts Tele, Ewuraesi and I on our toes, but it also sets a standard on what we share from guest bloggers like Sally here today. Sally is a doctor in training and a writer at heart and she brings a very beautiful story.
I am so excited about this piece because it’s such a true reflection of reality captured by putting two extremeties together in a relationship. She starts a conversation that I cant wait to hear your thoughts on. Enough of me, have Sally.
The first time I encountered the word ‘boyfriend’ in human form, it was Ato, Esi’s boyfriend. He would bring her roses when he came to see her every week. A single pink or white one for a normal day, and a huge red bunch for her birthday or, on any other occasion he deemed special. I thought, it must be nice to have a boyfriend. Or maybe, in retrospect, Ato was just sweet.
Thirty-two months later, I’m staring at the three letters- b.o.o- on Caller ID as the operator informs me for the sixteenth time that i have reached your voicemail. I’m desperately wondering why you’re not here already when you said you were on your way three and a half hours ago, and on about a hundred other occasions. As usual, I’m thinking of coming to look for you, genuinely out of concern, but I remember the first time this happened and i walked forty six minutes and three seconds in the rain, only to find you sprawled across your carpet playing scrabble with that girl from your office-what’s her face? Read More Where Are The Roses? – Guest Blogger Sally Boateng