Mr Kordiabɛ’s House

He lived in a ‘shwɛ su mame’ partially completed house at Kasoa, Akweley junction. He was lucky this time. The ‘borga’ whose building he lived in this time had roofed the 5 bedroom house and even added sliding windows. Unlike his previous ‘borga’ who was quite the ungrateful bastard when he found him in his unroofed house.

All he’d done was save up some money for aluminum sheets and roofed a third of the building. That’s to the paranoid man’s benefit! And yet, he bamboozled his way into his own home with 3 macho men. All for frail Kordiabɛ; accusing him of encroachment, intent to confiscate, all sorts of hurtful words.

That hustler ‘borga’ should have been grateful he’d saved him cost of roofing a part of his unplastered house. But this new house is fine! See it’s not everyone who is a proper ‘borga’. There are ‘borgas’ and then there are ‘borgas’.

He walked around the house with his arms firmly clasped behind his back, chest out, inspecting everything. He’d planted some pepper, okra, tomato, yam, watermelon and a few other foods on the one plot left around the house. He nodded his head as he inspected the rest of the compound. Indeed there are ‘borgas’ and there are ‘borgas’.


This Is Nothing But Everything

When I haven’t written for a while
And I’m thinking of revamping
Maybe specialising
In something I’m passionate for

When writing just for the fun of it
Seemed like a chore
I hate chores
Unless it uplifts my spirit

When I start asking The Why
Why did the inspiration stop?
Maybe it wasn’t seen
Why I stopped seeing inspiration in life

So this is not a poem
This is not a story
This is me, reading through old work
Asking where is she?

So open up her eyes
That she will see again
Colours, laughter, anger
Sadness, clowning, air

That I’ll take a deep
Intake of life’s breath
That one draw inspires me
Puts that fire in my belly again

Forgotten Gifts

Wake up to a clawing feel of neglect and disappointment with a tinge of amazement at what used to be created. Wondering if such a mind ever existed and if it has been so short a time. How skills and gifts can be overlooked for what is deemed ‘important’ or ‘relevant’. That a part of you fades away every day.

Wake up with the same feeling, guilt so strong you can’t reminisce on what was before. Even a reminder no matter how painful can be an overwhelming trigger. That the mind that once was will vibrate to life with a quick glance into the dusty box full of gifts once brandished.

Wake up one more time to the ringing in ears that have not heard. The urge that finds other ways to burst forth; however evil the way. The realisation that a gift that once was might just be. Or maybe not. That such a short time can change a person in the most horrifying way. That good things can be lost and forgotten. As bad things thrive and fester.

Wake up with a pounding at the temple. The urge fights to be released. The mind is in disarray. Nothing fits quite right. Something is missing. Something is lost. Something that was once warm and fulfilling has been in comatose. So short but so long that it’s a struggle to resurrect a thing that was deliberately forgotten.Forgotten_umbrella

Happy Father’s Day Nana

Commitment to your girls
Love, unconditional and unending
Responsibility you’ve taken without qualms
These are the things Akua and Anguah truly appreciate of you

When you had to ‘scooch’ to the edge of the bed
When you had to heat up water for us to bath
When you splashed and bought us nice things
These are the things Owusua and Annorkor appreciate about you

When we cried and sang at 2am while you had exam in the morning
When you were late for your appointment for we didn’t want you to go
The pride you feel when you look at us we feel it too
We love you, Happy Father’s Day

You are appreciated
From the ‘googoos and gaagaas’ of Owusua to the loud ‘Hahahahas’ of Anguah
You make these sounds possible
You make us proud every single day
We love you
Happy Father’s Day Nana


He rolled his torso backward and curled his feet under his ass, watching the terrified look on her face as she quivered a tear out of her left eye. He sighed heavily and got up with the needle still in his hands. He’s been doing this for a while and it’s becoming tedious and boring. All he wants to do is teach others what he already knows, self control and stamina. The world will be such a better place if everyone was just so. Just poised and controlled and right. He shuffled his feet to the rickety dusty table and propped one hip at a termite eaten corner. He stared at her still, hands bound in front, legs spreadeagled and bound against each wooden beam supporting the fragile roof. His gaze traveled up the wooden beams to the partially covered roof. A sparrow landed and peered into the room; it flew away quickly, sensing the foreboding aura. He turned his attention back to her, she squirmed and tried to plead with her big brown eyes. Beautiful girl, young and healthy. He likes them young; you teach them control at this age and they don’t grow into greedy adults running the world into a disarray. He straightened with a stump of his boot and she jumped. He didn’t like that, his face contorted into a grimace at her sudden show of fright and watched fright change to terror as he picked up the serum. It wasn’t a really complicated drug, and he gave them just enough. He made sure it was just enough, else it defeats his purpose.

Murmuring his reasons to her in a soothing voice, he explained why he needed her to stay alive during the ordeal he’s about to put her through. He explained how useful self control will be to them. He cited attacks in various countries and scandals by various world leaders. He made her understand that, he’s one of the chosen sent to redeem but he needs disciples. He needed her to stay alive. His voice had such soothing quality, she breathed easy just for a second then felt the brutal chill of his finger tips as he pressed down her jugular and inserted the needle at the base of her jaw, right under the skin. The serum will still her facial muscles and make her expressionless, while he carried on with the rest of the procedure.

She couldn’t feel her face. For a moment she thought the serum will spread to her entire body, she prayed it will. Her eyes rolled towards the rusted saws, knives and drills on the rickety table. Cold sweat broke on her brow, she counted her days. Her mind went to what she did that morning before leaving home. She remembered the unwashed pan from yesterday’s cooking and the fight with her neighbor about the littered compound. She had planned on apologizing after calling the man a slob, even though she was right and he is an insufferable slob. She cant quite remember what she wore and tried to force the image out of the deep recesses of her mind; then the blind white light came and she jolted in pain. He’d started with her pinky toe and was moving onto the other toes, using a pair of handy garden shears to pull out her nails, one by one. At the jerk of his muscular arm, he looked up and watched her reaction. She shook violently, he feared she’d break free so he stopped, picked up a warm towelette and sat by her side. He wiped the sweat gathering on his brow and explained to her again. Why it is important that she forgets the pain. That her eyes show no feeling. He promised she’ll feel absolutely nothing if she willed herself and asked her if she didn’t want that. Her eyes, they said yes, her face was still and calm; expressionless  just the way he wanted it. He finished off her second foot and went on to wrap the toes in cloth. He didn’t want her to die. It pained him when they died, it aggravated him, such weakness.

She felt his voice more than heard it. She was trying to remember the dress still, she couldn’t stop fixating on it. As the blind white light of pain flashed in front of her again, she wondered if it will actually damage her pupils and make her go blind. Then she wondered if any such cause of blindness existed. She tried again to remember, nothing came and then something. The pain continued, he was using the drill on her thighs now. He just made the sixth hole on her left thigh. Her legs were shaking from the trauma, she wanted to look at it. Look at what he was doing, she asked herself if it will work. He seemed so sure of himself, it must work all the time. She was floating, her legs were still shaking, she felt light and then she sensed freshly cut grass. She inhaled the freshness in, she was floating. He’d reached the crucial point and couldn’t stop, sweat poured down his back, the towelette had long disappeared. Right after his last drill, he felt a pool of wetness on his jeans. He started quickly, rushed to the table, came back to her in a scurry knocking down the rest of his kit in the process. He started suturing the wounds, applying pressure and willing the blood to stay in. He looked over at her left leg, tied to the beam a feet away, blood slowly gathering around it. He cussed loudly! Too much, too much bleeding, she was the one. She was taking it so well. Rushing to the leg, he blotted out the blood and applied more pressure on the opened wounds. Tears rolled down his face, he’s so tired. This would have been the last and the first. The success. The first disciple to make his dream come true. She felt cool to touch, he curled himself on her stomach and cried some more. Yet another failure and he is so tired.


walk, run, sprint
talk, shout, scream
brandish ownership
show fearlessness
crawl, creep, slither
manifest subtle manoeuvres
make monotonic presentations

sparkle, quiver, flicker
laugh, giggle, chuckle
extend wholesomeness
furnish affectionateness
twirl, curl, smoothen
consecrate feelings erotically
exhibit tender lovingness

gamble, scatter, fix
make, break, try
discover adventures
experience unknown territories
reach, grab, arrest
explore new beginnings
grasp fresh outcomes

unseen, unabashed, unlimited
walk, sparkle, gamble
run, quiver, fix
brandish ownership
furnish affectionateness
scream, giggle, smoothen
manifest subtle manoeuvres
exhibit tender lovingness
grasp fresh outcomes
experience unknown territories

Love Scenes I

He sat down on the cut out tree stump, thrust his feet out in a spasm and sighed heavily. He smiled satisfactorily, watching her bend out of the kitchen whilst balancing two flowered aluminum bowls on her hands. She looked up after gaining her balance and smiled back at the admiration she saw in his eyes. “S3 wehu w’akwaju s3m? sori na b3 bua mi.” She said jokingly. “No I won’t. Serve me like the good man I am.” He got up as she got to his makeshift wooden table, grabs one bowl and removes the lid. He drew in the good smell of groundnut soup and took a gulp, stopped after swallowing to widen his eyes at her. “This is delicious.” He said softly. “You always say that when I give you food.” “Yes I do, that’s because you’re delicious.” He placed the bowl of soup carefully on the table and made a grab at her waist. She turned her back to him, giggling and pretending to fight his advances. She felt his soft partial arousal and turned with a warning stare. “Kwaku, you’ll make me drop this banku ooo. Gyae nea wuuy3 nu.” He smiled and whispered into her ears, rubbing his hand on her lower abdomen. “You know I love you right?” He felt her relax in his arms and turn to him with that shy smile. “It’s okay. Wutirimu y3 wu d3. Now feed me.” He spanked her lightly on her ass. She set the bowl of banku down and quickly dashed back into the kitchen to get them a bowl of water.

She returned only to see him halfway through a ball of banku and going. “I thought you’ll wait for me or at least wash your hand.” “Oh please, you’ve been in the kitchen with the food all this while. I won’t wait for you and not washing my hand will not kill me.” “Stop and wash your hand.” She commanded. He stared at her for a second and chuckled. He went on mouthing balls of banku and groundnut soup. “Kwaku I said stop and wash your hand!” She quickly set the bowl of water on the floor and reached for his hand. “Herh, n’adi3n na wuuy3 nu?” He raised one leg and let out a huge fart. She jumped back in a scurry and grabbed her nose. “Ah Kwaku wata?” “Aani mata. S3 wuuhami. Wahami saaa wama mata.” She takes two more steps back as the atrocious gas crawls towards her. “Kwaku wei dier wu sh33da. Ahn. Wuyem n’abon saa? Ewos3 wusa.” “As usual baby. Your food is delicious.” He smacked his lips and licked soup off his fingers; ignoring her last comment on his bowel health. “I can’t believe you’re still eating in that smelly area.” “What smelly area? No be my own tuss?” She laughed at that and headed back into the kitchen. “And where are you going? Come eat.” “I’m going for my separate share. I’m not inhaling that poison with you.”