Accra has been flooding. Geez, this is October. People have lost their houses, property, a lot! It’s been outrageous. Oh, dear me! It just started again, the rain! It’s 2minutes after midnight on the 31st of October.

Flooded Accra
Flooded Accra

I’m in Accra. Last week, when the floods swept the city, I was in Takoradi. The whole thought that I had just left Accra two days earlier was some weird thing for me. When I came back here, I saw the streets had been swept clean of all the nonsense we throw on them but again, I saw that more than just nonsense was gone. Lives too!

My sister told me a tale on strange tides from where she had come. It was sickening. This is it. A woman had been driven out of her house by the flood waters at Kasoa. She was holding a baby and the current was strong enough for her to despair whether they were going to make it. Between her house and the safe place was a drain and a tree. She wanted to get to the tree and hold on to it without being pulled away by the rising waters, pity. There were people on the other side who wanted to help her with her baby but the current was strong and none could cross the drain. Then this desperation caused the woman to think: let me hurl my baby across to safety and then I can muddle the current to grab the tree. It breaks my heart now even….

People were ready on the other side to grab her baby and so she threw her baby across the drain. A mother’s desperation to save her baby so she could be the only sacrifice if she doesn’t make it! At least, let the baby live. And with the force of the current now, she couldn’t hold the baby and grasp the tree effectively. They’d all be swept away.

Her baby fell in the drain!

Oh God.

And got carried away! Swept away!

The woman clung onto the tree for dear life. I can’t come to imagine how she felt holding that tree like one crucified, unable to jump in after her baby, how she will live the rest of her life knowing that she was the last line of defence for her baby’s life. Her baby died.
I’m so sorry for this woman. This is a sorrowful episode. I don’t know her, have never seen her, don’t even know her name. But if I think about what a child means to a woman, it’s all too heart-breaking.

It’s 20 minutes after midnight now and the rains are getting stronger. This is the kind that could easily flood again. I don’t know how much we will have to endure and for how long but I will stay up tonight and observe how much rain will fall. And I will pray. That is sometimes the only tool you have, looking out of your bedroom window in the dead night at the droplets coming down with no intention to stop.

I hope no one dies again. I pray.

Beat the Harmattan with AfroChic Harmattan Collection

Beat the Crap Outta the Harmattan
Beat the Crap Outta the Harmattan

I hate the Harmattan! Every year it beats me dry! This year, I have a mind to beat the harmattan to it la. Every year, I crack my lip before I realise that the dryness has been around. This year deɛɛ, no way! So I’m doing all my harmattan recruitment before time, nkuto and all.

Welcome: Rock the Beauty
Welcome: Rock the Beauty

Ok, in the spirit of harmattan, I received a facebook invite to a clothing exhibition…ok wait…this is not just one of them oo. This is AfroChic. Ah, you’re still asking what it is? Ok, let me update you sharp sharp. The thing that caught my two eyes was the name. The exhibition was tagged The Harmattan Collection and right there, it was an instant hit for me! So, one more place to visit for Harmattan shopping. Let’s go wae, na adzɛn!!

Better than Persian Gold
Better than Persian Gold

I went to take a look. First thing I did was look up directions online. And when I got to the place camera in hand, my my…the green carpet!! Freshly manicured grass that seemed to mock and defy the harmattan spread out before me…and the exhibition was outdoor…just revolutionary. So, in the beautiful sun and shade, I stepped on the green carpet and made for the show. Some lady and gentleman manikins stood there to usher me in and I felt welcome at first sight.

Green Carpet Manikin Welcome
Green Carpet Manikin Welcome

So I checked out the designs hanging from the racks. Different colours, different shades, different designs and different sizes. Look, this sounds like hype when you read from AfroChic’s website! Daada wo ho!! I saw them fiili fiili with my naked eyes. I was stuck at the dresses section for a long time, wondering how such beautiful outfits hadn’t all been snapped up already. I walked over to Esi Cleland and asked her how she got such awesome names for each and every design. Professor Charming, Harmattan Pawpaw (yep, I saw that coming…lol), Floral Punctuation and more. My favourite was one called Incredible Rosy or so. Everyone who tried that one stood out like a red rose in the midst of whites. The clothes caught me in their bright patterns and I knew I had a good time coming.


As time went, people kept coming and going, each person finding something that fit and getting helped to find a perfect fit. Everyone walked away satisfied. I heard Esi tell one lady that she wouldn’t be allowed to walk away with that dress because it looked all tacky on her…now that’s customer care!! So I was smiling all through. I saw that friends came and flattered themselves with a design or two, first-timers came and were so lost in variety that, they lost track of time. As for me, I just observed. I took enough pictures to share with you all and keep you waiting for the next exhibition. There’s one every three months, yep! So start preparing for the next when you hear of it! And please, I’ve already taken all the pictures so when you go, don’t go and sightsee, w’ate? Go and buy some for your wardrobe. It will wash your sins away!


If you want to see the whole album, I put it here on facebook for you all. Don’t miss it.
Ok, for those who have seen the pictures and were asking if I’ve now become a male model, please please please….why??

Oh oh…before I forget, you can make an online order and get it shipped for a small fee for you. Nobody gets left out of AfroChic. I walked away from that exhibition feeling so covered for the harmattan.

So I’m continuing my harmattan shopping. And those of you who are still sitting at home waiting for the sand to rain Saharan dryness on you, repent and go get yourself AfroChic. I’m going to enjoy this year’s harmattan and right now, I’m out, just like that…in style!

Out...Just Gone!
Out...Just Gone!


Some people are doing their own things on earth paa oo. When judgement day comes eh, they will all slack like no one’s business.

Can you imagine? Today is the anniversary of my blog. I started this one last year and I’ve enjoyed every article I have written so far. When I go back and read, I see the many places I’ve been, the stuff I’ve seen, the amazing colour of this country Ghana. It’s utterly amazing but Ghanaians are some of the most remarkable people in the world, no jokes!

I love African markets
I love African markets

I was walking around Makola last week and run into a chaotic scene of a woman complaining bitterly and the others listening, telling her, ‘Amalia, it’s ok, eh? It’s ok!!’ I wondered what it was all about and in catching wisps of the conversation, I realised she had been duped. Someone had taken no small amount of her money and her day was ruined, while she rained countless blasphemies on the dude’s head. I was like, “Easy, Madam, easy. God will meet him somewhere and it will be his pressure to answer!”

The same day, I was in a trotro towards Circle and the mate was in this huge quarrel with a lady on board when I got on. So huge that the mate could hardly concentrate and give me an answer when I asked how much my fare was! And you see, the lady was a Northerner. Thing is, there are very many Northern dialects that we southerners don’t understand a word of!! Kai, the lady used the advantage!! She cursed and swore, rained expletives and abominable profanities in another tongue on the poor mate to heart’s content!! Everyone in the bus just kept telling the mate to cease retorting. ‘Don’t mind her. Don’t mind her!’ After a while, the mate listened, but not without occasionally replying her back with “Ekraa, wo ti bɔɔ fɛm” loool. Oh sorry, it means ‘whatever, your head still hit the ground’. Hehe…his simple case was that, for a lady to be so ill-mannered and uncontrollably insulting, she must have hit her head on the ground when she was born….haha. All her brain was distorted. And no matter what the lady insulted, this was all the mate will say. Before long, the entire bus was laughing with the mate, at the lady. She was incensed. Once we got to Circle, she stuck her head out and called by first name to some policeman directing the rising traffic at rush hour, asking him to hurry up, na there was this document-less trotro she was driving in. He should hurry up, hurry up. The policeman was baffled, not hearing her from the distance and over all the noise of cars on the road, not finding any fun in having to follow this car that just kept moving. Oh, by then, the mate and driver were as quiet as the reception room to hell, afraid that if they were not smart, they would have to visit the police counters!! Their luck was that the policeman gave up the lady’s calling and they had the chance to speed away to dump us all at the station a safe distance away, whew. When you do the wrong thing and then for God to meet you, it’s a serious pressure!

Ok, that’s supposed to be ‘good to meet you,’ and the response is ‘it’s a pleasure’.

Black Star at heart
Black Star at heart

Ahaa, today is world blog day!! There are a couple of blogs you should read alongside this one. Make it count. Ghana is a beautiful country. So, new blogs, god to meet you and I daresay that’s a lot of pressure right there. Keep writing and happy world blog day, everyone.

The Vim Views & Versions – Blogs of a MIghTy African curated by Ato Ulzen-Appiah

The Gamelian World
curated by Gameli Adzaho

Cerebral Sparks curated by my own buddy Agana Agana-Nsiire

What Yo’ Mamma Never Told You About Ghana curated by Esi Cleland and having timeless resourcs on Ghana and our peculiarities too. Esi has sadly given up writing on this blog.

Nanawireko curated by (yes, you know who) Nana Wireko

And then finally,

African Soulja curated by me, as a journey through reviewing African poetry.

Do enjoy, people. Good to meet….ok…wharever…


I want to be carried in a kayayo’s basin this month. Oh, why are u laughing? I’m serious!!

Ahaa, it’s Ramadan, the Muslim fast. I have had a couple of experiences with Muslims since they started fasting so let me blurt it all out before their fast ends. Right now, they will spare me if I say something wrong.

All the best waakye in every neighbourhood is sold by a certain Hajia, tell me I’m lying!! All the Hausa kooko u buy on your way to work is sold by a certain other Hajia, bettings!! And then the grilled meat, the best are sold at Nima where almost everybody is a Muslim.

Ok, you see, there was once that I got to the station at Achimota, looking for a bus home. It wasn’t very late too oo but some mate came and said since there was a winding queue, they were going to charge one Ghana cedi flat!!! Instead of sixty pesewas. How they rained unmentionables at him in that queue?? No mercy at all. He was all sorry for himself before the bus got fully boarded even, people swearing at him that they’ll send him back to the village he came from before he gleaned even five extra pesewas from them. It was pathetic. If he had done this at Nima on a normal day, only he will have an abnormal day: kokooko someone will land a blow on his mouth, so help him God. Ahaa, so we boarded that bus and were of before the mate knew what was going on. Sixty pesewas we all paid him, na nneɛma!!

Not exactly a Trotro
Not exactly a Trotro

Ehen…there was a pretty Muslim lady seated beside me on that bus, prettily adorned in their mayafi, who didn’t utter a word when we were busily offending the mate. Holy Ramadan times are not for picking petty squabbles in a trotro when the East is there to be faced, so she was mute as the word all through. I guessed the month called for it or else her voice would have been most welcome in that loud castigating chorus!! And gladly would she have offered it.

Yeah, yeah the other day I was coming from Accra to Achimota again when our bus picked up a heavily rastaed man who had a few loose screws up his head, how would anyone have known?!! I’m sure he’s been making a chimney of his head, those people smoking saa, like it’s a square meal. Immediately the bus set off he started talking out loud, cursing all Ga people till kingdom come, saying that aren’t they all Nigerians who migrated here and are now claiming Accra to be their own?? “‘Ile Ife’ that’s where they came from!!! If they misbehave, we’ll burn all their houses down and gather all of them in one corner before they’ll see yes!! We’ll show them we own the land. And that foolish Rawlings, he thinks we don’t know him!! He and all the Ewes, foolish Togo people!! They are here!! Look, if it wasn’t Boakye-Gyan!! Boakye-Gyan!! like Rawlings is a small boy!! We will sack all of them to their Togo. Foolish people! Even we are not saying anything. We will burn their cars, we will burn their foolish houses and we will show them where power lies.” You see, when people are seriously doing their holy Ramadan, you are here, with no manners whatsoever, spitting nyaa to whom it may concern!! When he got down that bus, wasn’t there a general uproar over how silly some loose-heads can be?? We just drove on!!

Ahaa, on the same day, I felt so sorry for a young, pretty kayayo girl who tripped over the pavement and fell with the heavy load of goods on her head, the poor girl. She looked Muslim too, with the insignia of her religion showing, and I pitied her that she should carry so big a burden while she fasted. Sorry wae!! I felt so much to blame, I don’t even know why?!! Ahh well, I just said my sorry and walked past her too.

Ok, so yeah, my loudest greetings to all the Hajias who make all the good food at the street corners and still have no moral right to taste it to see how good the salt and spice are because it’s Ramadan. The food still maintains the quality too, so yes, I doff my scraggy hat for them. Please, Ramadan, pass fast so that they can eat, wae. And take your hungry self and go and jump into the sea, na adɛn??
Ok, I’m gone. Christmas is coming.


National Service is over, halleluyah!! Now to settle and find a permanent engineer job and all of that! Ei, God is good oo. Na adzɛn!!

To celebrate the end of National Service, I went on a boat cruise on the MV Dodi Princess to Dodi Island, many nautical miles off Akosombo. That boat is a real princess, I say. Three decks, a grill on the upper where you can have gizzard and tilapia, beautiful live band music on the middle deck and a little pool and a tanning area on the lower deck. The trip was just gonna be fun and as soon as I got on, I was sure of it.

Spot the Princess
Spot the Princess

So, expectations were that I’ll have a smooth cruise to the Island, see what it has on offer and then return better refreshed…in fact, shedding off the stress of these past few months. It couldn’t have been more appropriate. And if the Captain of the ferry will allow, I’ll peek into his cabin and see what sea-farers have been hiding Little did I know I was going to come back changed!! Changed and challenged!

So there were diverse people on that boat; Caucasians, Indians, Americans, in fact, one American Joey came to ask for my standing space on the upper deck so he can smoke. These people! Ah well, I obliged! The cruise was breezy and I was snapping away at the sights, taking in the entire cool for its worth. I wanted to have fun and I was having it well.
The Island was a long spit in the distance soon and when we all got wind we were almost there, the excitement built up. We just wanted to go shake it all off. We got to the Island at approximately 1315GMT and we were to be heading back in 30minutes. So, in thirty minutes, shake off the stress, see what you can, take what pictures you can, and hop back on the ferry. Good to go! In thirty minutes, get your life changed, you don’t know!

You see, it was a trip that was made by us urban folk, going to sight-see. When we got to the landing, we saw a troupe of young people, ready with drums and all, to dance us a welcome. But us? We deserved it? That was for presidents and dignitaries. At least, that’s what the news has shown us all along. But these people were merry, simple-hearted people who had nothing to give us but their song. And in that minute, they made us their dignitaries.
When we got down to the landing, a few of us got out our cameras and stood around the troupe to send these scenes and memories back to mainland. Others joined in the now-began dance. The Island people wore clothes that you and I would most nearly use for rags and in the rising heat, many of us tourists started asking ‘Where are their houses’? Nothing showed!

Welcome party
Welcome party

You see, the Island is rocky! There’s bush all over the hillside. There’s no single structure as far as the eye can see from the landing. In fact, when we crossed the hill to the other side, we deepened our curiosity. Still no semblance of habitation, yet here were happy people, giving us their song. It looked like all they had. We didn’t even know where they had appeared from on the Island. They were poor, but in that minute, they seemed richer than us. They were the people who were alive!

Listen, the real life that God may have given us to live, still resides beyond the cliffs and the rivers, in the hearts and eyes of people who are not intelligent enough to know what a bomb is, what a gun is used for, what it means to see your neighbor suffer while you celebrate. I kept absorbing all this in as we walked up the cliff, past pockets of natives who had gathered themselves around different forms of instruments, and entertained us as we went. All they asked were any stray coins that we would be kind enough to drop in their little bowls and plates, if we thought they were doing anything worth it at all with all their music.

Along this line was a little girl not more than four years, maraca in hand, not knowing any tune to play, with a bowl in front of her, who just looked up at us as we passed. She had no song but in her eyes, when I stopped, I could see that she wanted to play us the best tune on the Island. She was adorable with her hair held up in those innocent African knots that don’t get done anymore by anyone in the city. When I knelt down beside her, she looked down shy, not even knowing what to do to please my demanding gaze. With her head still bowed, she tried to play me a tune. Incoherent, unrhythmic and not audible enough for me to hear the words! The Island people were Ewes, like me, and at least, I could have understood her just as I did all the others. She was the only one I wanted to understand. I couldn’t. She moved her maracas and made a slow rattle sound that accompanied her tune. Her grace cut me to the heart. This girl was the reason why I came to the Island.

I pushed a tear back (yes, I mean that!!) and a note into her side pouch. She stopped playing, looked up and saw that I had stretched my palm out towards her. She smacked me a five and then I got up, got her to pose and then I took this picture of her. We didn’t exchange any words but her eyes told me everything. And if she looked hard enough, she would have noticed that she had changed me.

This Little Girl
This Little Girl

There is life still beyond those rivers, I thought, when the ferry pulled away finally. I left my heart on that Island as the ferry cruised away. One day, many years on, I will return with this picture. And find the little girl who made me see that we are running around here in circles and missing the joy that God has put in the little things that we should enjoy.

We circled the Island before we could finally see tiny huts and mud-houses scattered on the hillside. The Conductor told us that the people live this far away and ferried all the way to the landing just to give us a welcome. They gave up their whole day just so that we can return with a smile.

When we pulled away, a gleam of light caught our eye. It was aluminum roofing and we were informed that it was the only aluminum roofing on the Island. It belonged to the chief’s palace.

I owe that Island a return. Maybe you do too.


Nsɛm pii
Nsɛm pii
Sometimes, I just don’t understand. Ahh…well, let me just keep my mouth shut before someone delivers me two hefty slaps nicely wrapped five long months before Christmas ooo, yoo!!

Believe it or not, plenty fist-fights are making the rounds here paa, and many people are nursing pitiful noses for kingdom come. When the NDC Congress was held last week, some macho guys were said to have gone there so that they can balance the equation just in case a few punches had to be thrown….lol…how they came back disappointed, packing their bags of fists with them all the way to Sunyani!! It wasn’t even funny – no punches to throw after a peaceful Congress, the lady well Konadued in the process. So much for fun.

Ok, so here I was, on my way from town yesterday when we came across a lively scene of people gathered and seemingly beholding a spectacle. Our trotro driver made it seem like he wanted to pick passengers and stopped right near the action. For me, the front seat was perfect spot and I stuck my neck out well to see what the action was. Tscho, I didn’t even stick it out for long!! Right before my very eyes – WHAM!! – then a lean, sad-faced man came stumbling out of the pack, his face twisted to the east and he staggering in the opposite direction, eyes closed and MERCY printed boldly in all manner of font sizes over his face. It wasn’t even funny. TWO DRUNKEN MEN WERE FIGHTING!! And they lacked the composure to stand on their feet and do the thing properly! Of course, the more sober one was winning. For the other one, na ayɛ ka!!

See people, it was late!! Like 7p.m. koraa oo. Responsible men of their type should have been watching GTV news with their children and here they were, testing each other’s cheeks in the twilight. The utterly drunk man couldn’t even speak to defend himself. Me, I will bet my last two pesewas to believe that he was probably even the one who was right. But….ahhh well!!

So our bus, having given us the chance to witness a non-promoted fight, hurried daintily on to bring us to our destination.

Today, in the trotro, I felt like talking on behalf of the mate, who was not even complaining! See, how can you board a bus, be bound for a 30pesewa journey, and then you hand the mate a 50cedi note so he can change it!! His entire day’s savings kraa will not give fetch you change! So some two unscrupulous dudes decided this was what they’ll do. The mate couldn’t find the change, obviously, so he let the driver speed past their junction, Nonsense!! The boys didn’t take it kindly, barking their displeasure all over the bus! The mate waited, made sure we got to a distance where it will be too short to pick another trotro and painfully long to walk back to their original junction, then he dropped them off, giving them their entire 50cedi note back! Ahaa, the mate had his own reason for keeping quiet in the start…lol. And when he dropped them off, quietly cursed a solemn “next time” at them as they walked away. Too cute!

Ok so where did I go? I went to spot accommodation oo, people! My National Service ends in days and since I’m staying here in Takoradi after it’s done, I had to find a place for rent. All the time when I was ranting my head-load of trouble to my landlord-to-be, saa na the man was asleep!! This man who himself was just talking a few minutes ago, chale. Some grumpy old man who didn’t even turn an eye when I walked out quietly like a prodigal son come back home. He was asleep – flat. Oh, so tomorrow I’ll go back and finish the negotiations, but I’ll carry cola nut along so that he’ll chew liveliness into his life while I settle my dues, na adɛn! If he sleeps again, I’ll talk to myself and conclude the deal, Period!!


Some people are weird oo. Can you imagine sitting in the back of a bus and right down from Takoradi to Accra, you talk saaaa like that’s what will pay your ticket?!! Buei!! This guy got me tired…but you know me….I was listening..lool.

So it’s not like he was talking to me or anything. He was just talking, passing a comment here, shouting at the other drivers, he was just jumping from conversation to conversation. Ah well, wetin be me too my business in this one??
There’s this craze on twitter by Ghanaians on there where they’ll flag a grammatical error as a #gbaa. If you fall inside this one, trouble don come for you na!! Ahaa, you see I’m writing a little Naija pidgin? It’s because Naija people have copied the thing. Our own #gbaaalert oo. And they call it something like #gbaagaun or whatever they call it. Me, I don’t play this game oo…and I’ve cooked up a very sorry response for anyone who flags a #gbaaalert on me. “Ma guy, oya!! Set English paper make we don write grammar, now now!!” Eheh!!

So I love Nigerians. The Nigerian guys in my class back in Chemical Engineering were in my study group and now on twitter they’re some of the loudest mouths. Like Niyi. He even started this blog not long ago and if you read it, you’ll see what I’m talking about. Ei, and Lateef and Bello and Kome. Kai!!

Yoo, so when someone tweeted “Lamboguinea”, didn’t it begin another hurricane whose effects have been seen all over the world and now even I won’t be surprised if it becomes a franchise from which the dude can make some money?? I mean, if I was BBC?? Come on, the guy needs the cash that comes with the fame. He’s already popular….why not satisfy the money part. Na twitter celebrity idon make. Oh…I hear some people don’t know what the real thing should even be!! loool…even you reading, eh??? haha

Okay, so I was talking about the guy on the bus. See, the dude was talking. Just talking!! He was just confusing me, getting me all worked up and denying me any concentration. It was a night journey. So imagine my glee, when he turned around and asked, “ei where have we reached?” and someone said Mallam junction. Hahaha…there he was, with a tweak on his face. He had missed his junction!! He should have gone down somewhere after Kasoa…how I laughed??? In his face!! That’s when I freely joined the conversation, gave him some fake consolation and….the heck!! It wasn’t even necessary. We were all just laughing….lol.

Okay so, Ghana meets Naija in many places. Our two countries are like the most brotherly in the world. We love it!!
Ah haa….let me see what I can do before the week ends!! Today is NDC Congress day so expect some weird campaign promises and results at the end. I say, if anyone brings a #gbaa from the Congress, dem go tweet um, na!! Oga, you say wetin…..



People, see what a harmless Facebook status can do to you!! Me and my unwitting self! I just posted a status update and Abena was able to drag a debate out of it; on Skype, on twitter, on Facebook…she won’t let me win in peace.

It’s been weeks and we’ve not been able to agree that I’m the winner so we thought we could ask all you wonderful people (please, only wonderful people allowed! ahaa) to help us decide. Which generation would you rather belong to? Argument begins with my status update:

Dela: Eagles Generation…
Abena: cheetah generation….
Dela: I soar, you run, we win
Abena: fastest runner if i might add.
Dela: haha…farthest flyer, if you should know 🙂
Abena: but cheetah generations are the best! lol George Ayittey, anyone??
Dela: Well, the Eagles have better perspective. You know that 🙂
Abena: the cheetah generations are going to take over though. lol u should check out George Ayittey’s cheetah vs hippos. then u would really want to be part of the cheetah generation 🙂
Abena: ‎”The Cheetah generation is a new breed of Africans who brook no nonsense about corruption. They understand what accountability and democracy is. They’re not going to wait for government to do things for them. That’s the cheetah generation” -George Ayittey… still wanna be an eagle? lol
Dela: …you should see me here, brushing my wings and waiting to take on the storm while the cheetahs are hiding in the shade. I’ll take on the whirlwind, no the windstorm, no the hurricane just by stretching out wide. And when it all seems unsurmountable, I’ll soar. Think about this with regard to Ayittey and the generations and you’ll understand. Still wanna be a cheetah?…lol
Dela: And I should credit you for putting Ayittey in this light. I need this kind of info for my poetry blog too:-)
Abena: :O ahaha.. cheetahs don’t hide though. you can go ahead and soar all you want, but cheetahs will reach that destination before the eagles any day! and in a hurricane, it will be raining.. wet wings anybody?? mmhmm.. cheetahs can still run even if they have wet fur! 😛 still wanna be an eagle? perhaps a CHEAGLE?
Dela: …I knew you’d lose that one. An eagle can soar ABOVE the clouds in a storm. No soaked wings, eh? And at such heights, it can see far FAR far beyond what any cheetah can see…wet wet pussy pussy pussy wanna be a cheater…oh wait…cheetah? LOL
Abena: aaahh not fair! i didn’t lose anything! lol.. ok, but i still stress the point that the cheetah will reach its destination before the eagle. and the cheetah is clearly bigger and stronger and more powerful than the eagle. the eagle can bully other animals, but not the cheetah.. no no no, not the cheetah. try flying with wet wings. lol.and it’s CHEETAH! lol not cheater…
Dela: haha. Abena, you’re the best. BEST BEST BEST for intellectual discourse. I think the CHEAGLE will be one incredible brand (unless of course the CH- comes from chicken). But I should agree with you that the cheetah is a strong and fast one, but the eagle is big too. Long wing-spans and all of that. It’s a win-win combination, these two right here:-) you rock!!
Abena: hehe yeah win win situation. you rock too! lol u and ur wings nyinaa
Dela: LOL…you’re lucky I can’t lay a hand on you right now…anka wobehu…lol
Abena: lool anka menhu hweee u can’t do anything if u have wet wings.. can’t even fly. u’ll just fall down and break ur beak and little tiny feet. even if u do come koraa me the cheetah, i’ll just RUN! 😛
Dela: So you win by running away? Cool. Very cool. 😛
Abena: aha, oh, oh, oh.. heheh well i’m a pacifist. lol
Dela: You win!! *loud applause* haha
Abena: yayyyy i’m drinking Malt to that… no really true true, i’m drinking a malt to that. hehe
Dela: hahaha…you deserve every drop. You really do:-)
Abena: this is a late comeback, but the cheetah leaves footprints when it’s running; therefore, the little mini cheetahs can follow suit in the future.. the eagle on the other hand, can’t leave footprints for the baby eagles to follow! AHA! i win. tenq u very much. tenq. medaase. 😀
Dela: Ahhh…I thought you had won Ok.. the eagle needs to leave no trail because it belongs to the heights of the sky where no other animal can explore. Can you beat that??? 😛 And the baby eagles will always find new trails. That is the mark of an all-conquering generation. We don’t copy!! 😛 😛 😛 And oh…we can walk on land too…haha Do cheetahs fly, please???? Give me the crown back…lol
Abena: but u see, cheetahs are trailblazers and trendsetters. We don’t copy, other people copy US cuz we are awesome like that. aha. i’m keeping the crown. btw, the hawk, and the parrot can also explore the skies u know.. the skies don’t just belong to the eagle.. the eagle could just get hit by an airplane one day…just saying. aha! 😛
Dela: LOL…you wish!! no hawk or parrot can reach as high as an eagle. And it’s so large a terrain that no plane will ever possibly hit an eagle. maybe a car can knock a cheetah senseless but my eagle? no way!! and if they’re all that and all of that, why do cheetahs have to be running anyway? :P…haha
Abena: ahahhahaha rofl! oh jeez, we can debate on this alll dayy. and cheetahs are running ‘cuz we have somewhere we need to be! we’ve got goals and we are running to meet them and achieve our dreams.
Dela: You setting yourself on fire and you need to run? are those goals? eagles browse the sky majestically. no need to rush. we rule the skies, period. and the debate goes on and
Abena: ‎*sigh** i’m still keeping the crown
Dela: Yes, until I need it…you have been a good sportswoman.
Abena: if u need it, i’ll just run with it. 😛
Dela: hahaha…reading over again has been fun…lol
Abena: You know what i realized? this whole conversation could be a blogpost.. what do u say? this could be the collaboration you mentioned earlier.
Dela: Exactly! Maybe I should process it so that we get other people to break this tie for us!! I’m going to win…hehe

So people, here it is. Please break this one for us wai. And let us rest this debate once and for all. Adwobrɛw!!


Clap clap clap!! Ok, people, listen up!!

How about we dig into some tech stuff right now, you and I, huh?

Ok, GH, stand up!! There’s a group shining out of Maryland, USA, descending on our nerdy heads with the next best thing coming after my post on Barcamp Takoradi and Garage48. Now, Coders4Africa deserves much love, y’all. Let me hear some noise in the house already. Yep, yep, that’s how we do it. Now sit up and listen up!!

Coders4Africa, is an NGO based in Maryland, USA with an initiative to provide FREE professional training on a variety of programming platforms (such as Microsoft, Google and JAVA), frameworks and tools to 1,000 African software and application developers by the year 2016. One of their main goals is to create a strong community of software developers that share and transfer knowledge among themselves and to future generations of African programmers. They want to present Africans a different perspective, participating in the African ICT revolution as programmers, developers and engineers and not simply as consumers and super users.


Their next conference is at the AITI in Accra June 18th and 19th and is sponsored by Oracle. Tell me you are not excited already and let me cross-check your will with you first before I read your death sentence out in one sentence loud and clear, banished to eternal glory. Ahaa, the thing is that you guys love Ghana. You love to hear Gh in the news. This group has a Ghanaian partner as part of a West African team and comes right after I read a now-archived post about Ghana becoming Africa’s next app developing hub to watch. What are you still waiting for??

So, come the 18th and 19th, please drag your laptops and your listless behinds all the way and let’s congregate at AITI for much-needed programming schooling. And it’s Free!!! FREEE!!
Read more here and pick the minds of the brains behind this heaven-sent deal right here.

I’m out. Stand Up!!


Old Cedi Notes
Old Cedi Notes

Hey amanfo, Abena is back!! This is her second post and tell her to sulk all she wants because aha yɛ dɛdɛɛɛdɛ and she has no idea. This time, she projects how Ghana will be when she’s back. On your marks, get set, fi!!

Hello people, thank you all for the responses to my previous post. If you haven’t read my previous post, abeg, please go check it out and comment, or else you won’t understand the joke at the end of this post.

I left Ghana in December 2006 (haven’t gone back oo, oh morbor, anybody have a spare ticket, hehe, I’m on summer vacation now, so the time is more than perfect). The NPP was in power, and I think we somewhat recovered from HIPC not too long ago. I quite remember the HIPC jokes KSM made on T.V, and how HIPC was in almost every Ghanaian’s vocabulary. (“oh Bra Kwame, mame sika nkɔtɔ tɔfee ɛh?” -“Hwɛ, me hipc akye me”.. tr: how would u even translate this koraa into English? Me I don’t know oo, Dela, can you help me out here? lol ). The kokonte and nkatekwan school uniform was no more; blue and white for Presbyterian schools, yellow and blue for Methodist schools. In 2006, we were about to change our currency, and I STILL remember the currency song. (“ten thousand cedis becomes one Ghana cedi, two thousand cedis becomes twenty Ghana pesewas, *blah blah blah** that would be the new currency” – how creative is that?) Oh, and the National ID card song. (“if you are a Ghanaian, get your national ID card, if you are over fifteen years, get your national ID card, Ghanaians in abroad oo, get your national ID card…” – I have to admit, I kinda liked that song, and it had lyrics on screen! Aha, I thought that was the coolest thing).

So Ghana was going through changes at that time, and now in 2011, or any year after this, if I were to go back to Ghana, what would I expect to be different? When I left Ghana I was in class 6, about to go to JSS 1. (yes, I say JSS, aboa ben so ni JHS? I still don’t understand why it was changed. What about those acronyms for schools? Like ABUGISS for Aburi Girls Secondary School? Would it change to ABUGISH? Ahah, that doesn’t even sound right). Well, that’s one change I would have to deal with.
• JSS = JHS, and SSS = SHS.
• Currency change. ₵ = GH₵
• More television channels. Back in 2006, even in Accra koraa there were about five or six TV channels. GTV, TV3, Metro, TV Africa, and a couple of channels I’ve forgotten. Now you have DSTV and numerous channels
• Ghana is now considered a middle class country, so I would expect more and more people with cell phones, and hoping that the cell phone snatching business becomes less common.
• Immigrants. My parents recently went to Ghana, (and they didn’t take me oo, hmm because of this thing they call school aka sukuu like my grandma would say) and they mentioned the increase in the Nigerian and Lebanese populations in Ghana.
• Malls. Ahah heii, how many malls do we have in Ghana now? I know of the Accra Mall, but I’ve also heard something about the A&C mall. In 2006, where are you going to find malls? Ahaa, must be joking.
• Music. Yɛfrɛ biribi twi pop? When I first heard about Twi pop I just laughed at the name of this music genre. It just sounds funny. Really it does. You just say it out loud. Twi pop. Some even add an extra “o” at the end. Sounds like Twi pɔpo. But I do like this genre.
• Fashion. I’m loving the current fashion scene in Ghana right now. With the likes of Mina Evans, Afrochic, ReneeQ, and all the afro centric Ghanaian fashion designers.

So these are some of the things I would expect to be different when I return to Ghana. Personally, my circle of friends and social life in Ghana wouldn’t be the same. My friends are now in boarding school, we don’t talk as much as we used to when I was in Ghana, and the distance and lack of communication would hinder the closeness of our friendship. My older brother was teasing me about this when I was ranting about my homesickness to him one time, and he said “You koraa if you go to Ghana, you won’t have any friends. You only went to one school for the majority of your school life in Ghana, me, I went to three schools, so I have friends in all of these schools. You would have to make new friends”. I just looked at him and told him to shut up and that he was wrong. Aha, but then later I realized that he was right. Making new friends shouldn’t be hard, right? Besides, who says I have to make new friends? I’ve known my friends in Ghana since childhood, I’m sure we can revitalize our friendship.
Kalikway to you all.