This Guy Perfectly Explains The Difference Between Childhood And Adulthood. So True It Hurts.


“As a kid, you’re on a path, there’s a plan laid out for you, and whether you intentionally break from the plan or follow it to the letter, there’s this linear progression of growth, and an ultimate goal to strive for.

You have allies, you have enemies, you have trials that you pass or fail, you have moments of catharsis, etc. You feel like part of a beautiful narrative, like the heroes in movies and books and TV shows and stories. You feel like there’s a right and a wrong way to go, and some ultimate fate waiting for you at the end that will sum up what all of it meant.

When you get to be an adult, that illusion crumbles away as you realize that you don’t have a narrative, there is no path or plan, things aren’t always linear, and you’re nobody’s hero. There are no allies, because friends can be both good and bad for you simultaneously. There are no enemies, because frankly no one cares enough to wage a personal war for long.

You don’t have a destiny. You make choices that are more a product of random chance than you want to admit, and sometimes the consequences make sense, sometimes they don’t. You may flounder around in a bunch of different directions for many years, ultimately not making any progress, and having nothing of import to show for it.

You’re not a good person or an evil person – you’re just an ant wandering around looking for crumbs. No, worse than an ant, because an ant has a purpose in life, to serve its queen and colony. You can choose to align yourself with a purpose, but it may never fulfill you or reward you. And nobody will be waiting with a shiny gold medal for you if you stick to it.

Life as an adult seems less and less like an exciting adventure story and more and more like a delirious, confusing fog of random developments and passing phases that raise more questions than they answer.

I think when childhood dies, when our dreams die, we go through the stages of grief like with any other loss. I think it’s therapeutic to acknowledge it, and then start rebuilding. Adulthood is different than I thought it would be, but I’m not giving up yet, and neither should you.

God: The Money Making Machine

What is the fastest way for a Black Man too become rich and super-rich? Be a Politician in a Democratic setting or a Man of God.
The Holy Scriptures teach us Christians to give Offerings and tithes. God has asked Man to give 10% of his income to the Church unto God. God is a Spirit and a Power in the Trinity of God, the Son and the Holy Spirit. None of them has hands to receive any money and use it accordingly to its will. Only Humans have hands.

Healing power is not equal to an understanding of the Scriptures. This is like Men and Women knowing their ability to be fruitful and multiply delivering babies each year seeing their actions reflected in the Holy Bible, do not demonstrate a deep insight into the word of God.

Being jobless of an Arm robber transforms many Africans into Man of God eager to be close to the Prosperity of God as promised by him in the Bible. The Bible is available for small money in bookshops or given for free by established churches. Even the poorest can read the words of the Lord and memories them.

Attending some existing church services and studying different ways of handling innocent Believers that mostly come to Sunday Service in the status of financial, emotional and spiritual difficulties wanting desperately to receive their blessings from God, clever as these people are they find their marketing niche to preach the Gospel successfully and attract numbers of people by promising Heaven on Earth. Like well-prepared Actors, they know their scripts ready at any time to have a suitable quotation for their flock in need sitting on plastic chairs for hours close to the hoped for anointed lips of the Man of God before them.

When challenged by the Man of God to give accordingly to the Scriptures for the blessings to be showered upon the innocent Believer, many Christians in their times of need give to the maximum they can afford. The Men of God are never satisfied with the Offerings and Thighs being convinced each and every Sunday again and again that their congregation is not truthful to God holding money back as a sign of lacking truly understanding the Scriptures.

Once the money is in the hands of the Men of God, it is not the Almighty determining the distribution of the money given but the Egoism and self-glorification of the Men of God.

In Churches like Evangelisch-Lutherische Kirche in Germany each year the books are laid out for all Church Members to inspect and see how the money collected by the Church was spend during the past fiscal year given them the opportunity to make their remarks.

As African Churches are the foundation of Humans and not originally made by God himself, these Man and Women of God put themselves in the position of the Almighty and determine by themselves the distribution of the collected money without the congregation to know the actual situation of their Church finances. The question can and should be raise, what these so called Men of God have to hide when not sharing the accounts with their people as the Church is not one person, but it is a Body of many. It is like a man that is blind on one eye while the other one can see the real truth of the matter and see behind the motivation of these “Men of God” in their pictorial, sometimes very innovative costumes.

God himself never asked his People to build him many temples. He instructed only one man, King David, to start the process of building his temple.

Looking around Africa, particularly Nigeria, we see impressive Church structures seating thousands of Followers while the temple God asked King David, his Favorite, to be glorious, yet in its dimension relatively moderate, particularly compared to today’s enormous structures.

It is not understood by the well-known names of African Church Owners that the Body of Christ is us…all of us believing in God and his word.

For that very reason whatever we have available to give outside our own house income whether into the hands of a Church Owner having the strong Egoism in his heart to Glorify his existents by preaching the Glory of God and underlining by so doing his inability of understanding the Scriptures or to a neighbor and friend in need, is the same to God. God looks into the hearts of his people and understands the situation of each and every one in the times the child of God finds him in day in and day out.

It is not the responsibility and authority of any Church Owner to press their congregation for more and more Offerings and Thighs to expand their Kingdom of God sitting in bigger and bigger cars or comfortably their immense private Mansions, but it is the inner dialog God has with each of us Christians of how much and when to give to him in the way he shows to us.

Author: Dipl.-Pol. Karl-Heinz Heerde, Sakumono Estate, Tema West, Block D10, Aprt 9, Ghana, karlheinzheerde@yahoo.de , phone 00233(0)265078287, 30.09.2015

 

Afriyie Acquah’s Fair Wife and the Foolishness

So people are now criticising those of us who married fair women (in my case, a mixed race) simply because they have found Afriye Acquah’s marriage case derogatory; some even stretch it further to the late media guy who allegedly was poisoned by his wife.

Some are saying we went for our “fair” spouses because of beauty. Many are campaigning that fair women are Maame water, promiscuous, money-motivated and so those men who want a peaceful marriage should avoid what Ghanaians call )bak)k) which is interpreted; a light-skinned woman.

I think no true individual who has Divine Wisdom will make such a generalised accusation. So a fair and flawless-skinned lady is maame water, they have gone under the sea as spiritual divers and found all fair women there right? Apparently the Brits, Spaniards, Latinos etc are all maame water too; What kind of thinking is this? WHY IS AFRICA SUCH A DARK CONTINENT FULL OF SUPERSTITION AND IDOLATRY?

And did I hear them say they are promiscuous? So colours now determine promiscuity, then you will later come and say America is a racism nation, ain’t you a racist too?

Anyway, here is the main point:

You can marry a dark girl and have a terribly regretable life or even die early, you can marry a fair lady, mixed or even white, and have heaven on earth – EVIL IS COLOURLESS.

The quality of a wife is largely dependent on:
1. The kind of Spirit that lives in her

2. The kind of Mindset she was raised with; which is a mixture of many things including environment, peer groups, parental influence etc

3. Whether God is leading you yourself to her.

Most of the folks who make these detrimental choices were just not listening to God, period. They walked by sight! And many are going through similar issues whose spouses are very very black. It has nothing to do with Complexion!

I love my wife – she is amazingly different and exceptional!

Written by Godwin Martey. 

 

How to Know if your Mother is a Nigerian?

1) When you say, “Mummy, I’m Sorry!” And she
replies, “Sorry for yourself!”
.
2) When you ask her where you should drop
something and she says, “Drop it on my head.”
.
3) When she brings food
wrapped in a nylon bag from a party.
.
4) When you say, ”Mummy, I have fever.” And
she replies
you, “Why won’t you have fever when you press phone every night”

.
5) When you say, “Mummy I took 2nd in my
class.” and she replies, “So the person that took first has two heads abi?”

.
6) When she takes the DSTV remote to work,
just to punish you.
.
7) When you are watching television with her
and
then she sleeps off and still doesn’t want you to change the channel.
.

8) When you tell her you are going to a
friend’s
place to play and she asks, ”When last did that friend come here to play with you?

.
9) When she asks you if the food she served you
is enough, and you reply no, and she says, come and eat own with yours.
.
10) When she tells you, if I hear Peem, you will hear Ween.
.
11) When she touches hot pot comfortably without a cloth or paper.
.
12) When she tells you, ”I didn’t kill my mother, so you will not kill me”.
.
13) When she calls you from your room upstairsand then sends you back upstairs to bring her
purse.
.
14) When you ask her to refund the money you borrowed her and
she tells you, “All the food you have been eating in the house nko? Which money did you think was used in
buying them?”

 

 

One Ghana for your Pocket

1.     I live in a country where most of us only remember our nationality every four (4) years- World Cup!

2.     It is only in my country that spiritual ‘Mallam’ men (and women) advertise their juicy ‘products’ as much as or even more than telecommunication companies do advertise theirs.

3.     In my country, we don’t have natural disasters. We have national disasters (who double as natural disasters though) …called politicians. They pay themselves not for problems solved because they themselves are a problem we are yet to solve.

4.     Somewhere in my country, God has to do re-creation every rainy season; separating the waters within homes and offices of people from the waters without.

5.     It is only in my country that while others experience acute water shortage for weeks, the same dams which were supposed to have supplied such with water spill over to flood homes because of excess water!

6.     In my country, most of the state-owned companies perform better than even the private ones. The best of such government-manned companies is the famed ECG (Electricity Company of Ghana). You haven’t heard of them? They rule. Even a kid knows them for what they do best;providing darkness!

7.     In this same country, this darkness-providing company plays dilly-dally with God and the devil. At one time, they would blame ‘dumsor’ on lack of water in the dams and just when God had poured excessive rain on us, they blame their woes on errrm… the devil.

8.     I live in a country where the words ‘nationalism’ and ‘sacrifice’ are most abused. The fat salaries of those who preach them make us wonder which kind of such they are referring to; Footballers. Politicians.

9.     Everywhere in my country, having your problems solved by a politician(s) is a rare privilege one should forever be grateful for. These national disasters, otherwise called politicians, come back every four years to keep on promising solving problems which they had previously promised to solve and… someway somehow…they are always right… it only remains a promise!

10.  It is only in my country that overwhelmingly outrageous deeds happen. For example, high rising buildings and dwarves can cause depreciation of our currency, someone’s death can bring a halt to policy implementation, mobile phones can cause power fluctuations, among others. Maybe we’re just from another planet; Venus perhaps!

11.  In my country, we have precious minerals like gold, diamond and party cards. In all one’s getting, get a party card. With such cards, one can go wherever; Brazil, Heaven, name them… as long as one’s party is in power.

12. Probably, it might only be in my country that politicians chase us every four years to give them their daily bread, while we chase them for the subsequent four years to give us our daily bread!

13. I guess it is only in my country that jobs are tied to a decade of experience when graduates actually do get their first job after close to a decade!

14. It is only in my country that regardless of how many times most of us complain about politicians, a chunk of us still remain stooges in their sight. They are remote controllers. Most of us are TVs!

15.  And… it is only in my country that after the policy makers ban transactions in dollars in a bid to salvage our drowning currency, they go back to pray for forgiveness in their closets… because they do exactly that!

Drop that Yam- The Problems of being a Ghanaian

Many things make Ghana stand out of the many countries in this world. Japan, for instance, has earthquakes. Malaysia has missing flights. Ghana has dumsor!

How we mention our independence with such pride! Yet… we all know how we are very much dependent today even more than the days we were under colonial rule. Dependence in independence!

Have we ever learnt to live an independent life after close to six decades? Can the black man indeed manage his own affairs? I’ll say “yes” and “no”!

Independence Day is such a pride to us. Yes, why not? But… fact is, what are we celebrating? Dependence? It stares us in the face each morning and here we are living under the delusion we are independent. Such deception!

Ghana at fifty-eight (58). A Ghanaian at (58). If a Ghanaian today is fifty-eight (58) years old and is living their life as Ghana is doing today, obviously such a Ghanaian won’t be enough a model for the young to learn from. He would be a cast away.

He would own nothing on his own though he has every resource at his disposal to make it in life. He would be as poor as ever courtesy waste and mismanagement! It would be such a mystery why such a Ghanaian is poor despite all the abundance they’re surrounded with. Ghana’s poverty similarly amazes me!

If the maxim “life begins at 40” was anything to go by, Ghana’s life should have begun a long while ago. Unfortunately, it seems not to have yet. We still are trotting when the world is galloping. When the world is talking about solutions to problems, we keep on living in the problems despite their solutions!

We pay our leaders to occupy positions and not to solve problems. We pay citizens for titles they’ve acquired for themselves and not for the problems they can solve. Our priorities are titles and big certificates not solutions… at fifty-eight (58)!

It’s about time attention was focused on how we could solve what we have plagued ourselves into if we indeed don’t want Kwame Nkrumah to keep on turning in his grave.

We have to drop that yam of mediocrity; yam of ill-confidence. We trade in foreign currencies right here in Ghana. Anything Ghanaian, in our estimation, is worse than their foreign counterpart (even our currency). We import everything except human beings. What a country! And… we are all comfortable. Drop that yam!

‘Dumsor’ is now a national disaster. No one knows exactly why we can barely have lights for ‘only’ 24 hours. Businesses are collapsing. Families are getting broken. Armed robbers and thieves are having a field day. Our leaders don’t give a hoot after all they can afford plants and generators. All of these are happening in a fifty-eight (58) old Ghana. Chai!

I don’t celebrate the length of the years of people; countries same. I instead celebrate the worth of their years! It’s not enough to be fifty-eight (58). Show me the worth of those years!

Most of the ills we have brought upon ourselves were very avoidable. The little things we took for granted yesterday have become giants of problems today. Our nation is not growing any younger.

The matter is not about comparing ourselves with other nations like Malaysia. No. It’s about comparing our today to our yesterday. If there’s not much difference between our today and yesterday, then obviously we are as stagnant as anything we can’t imagine. We are in competition today with our yesterday. Forward ever, backward never! However, we have chosen to stay still.

Our nation (not our politicians) is all we have. It’s either we make that conscious effort to build it to be the world’s destination or we perish with it. ‘Dumsor’ will affect you as long as you’re in this nation. Bad roads will affect all of us.

Whatever ill that comes to mind when you think of Ghana would eventually affect you and me… so the earlier we solved them, the better it would be for us.

We have only one legacy to hand over to posterity; a better Ghana (not the politically-driven one). A Ghana that won’t be battling challenges their ancestors should have solved. A Ghana that would be thriving on a problem-based education so solutions could be provided, not a Ghana which is almost always divided by politics!

Ghana at fifty-eight (58)? I only shake my head. I want to celebrate Ghana at maybe a worthwhile sixty (60) or beyond. It might only be another dream if we all won’t drop our yams… a yam of no patriotism; a yam of corruption; a yam of mismanagement; a yam of you; a yam of me!

 

Please Help: ‘My Boyfriend pees in my mouth and Beats me if I Refuse’– Juliet

How do I stop him from this act? I’m Juliet 24, I stay with my boyfriend of campus, every morning my boyfriend likes to takes his morning pee in my mouth.
This started way back in my year 1 when we just decided to get freaky,he then suggested that he pee in my mouth which I agreed and since then he will wake me up and tell me he has to pee so i will get on my knees open my mouth real wide and

wait for him to fill my mouth with his hot morning pee and after his done peeing in my mouth i suck his dick until he comes this is how i start my morning.

He has gotten use to it that whenever I refuse doing it,he will beat me up so bad, I

really love him so much I don’t want to get him hurt,now am scared of drinking his pee because people say it contains harmful substance please is it true,and if yes how do I stop my boyfriend from this act without him beating me up,he enjoys it,is it that he’s abusing me indirectly am just confused, please help!

God is not a Christian

Today’s post is all about one interesting book title which caught my attention instantly. As the sayings goes, don’t judge a book by its title so must you not draw any premature conclusion without reading the book.

The following is excerpted from the Archbishop Desmond Tutu’s new book, ‘God Is Not A Christian: And Other Provocations.’

They tell the story of a drunk who crossed the street and accosted a pedestrian, asking him, “Where is the other side of the street?” The pedestrian, somewhat nonplussed, replied, “That side, of course!” The drunk said, “Strange. When I was on that side, they said it was this side.”

Where the other side of the street is depends on where we are. Our perspective differs with our context, the things that have helped to form us; and religion is one of the most potent of these formative influences, helping to determine how and what we apprehend of reality and how we operate in our own specific context.

My first point seems overwhelmingly simple: that the accidents of birth and geography determine to a very large extent to what faith we belong. The chances are very great that if you were born in Pakistan you are a Muslim, or a Hindu if you happened to be born in India, or a Shintoist if it is Japan, and a Christian if you were born in Italy. I don’t know what significant fact can be drawn from this — perhaps that we should not succumb too easily to the temptation to exclusiveness and dogmatic claims to a monopoly of the truth of our particular faith. You could so easily have been an adherent of the faith that you are now denigrating, but for the fact that you were born here rather than there.

My second point is this: not to insult the adherents of other faiths by suggesting, as sometimes has happened, that for instance when you are a Christian the adherents of other faiths are really Christians without knowing it. We must acknowledge them for who they are in all their integrity, with their conscientiously held beliefs; we must welcome them and respect them as who they are and walk reverently on what is their holy ground, taking off our shoes, metaphorically and literally. We must hold to our particular and peculiar beliefs tenaciously, not pretending that all religions are the same, for they are patently not the same. We must be ready to learn from one another, not claiming that we alone possess all truth and that somehow we have a corner on God.

We should in humility and joyfulness acknowledge that the supernatural and divine reality we all worship in some form or other transcends all our particular categories of thought and imagining, and that because the divine — however named, however apprehended or conceived — is infinite and we are forever finite, we shall never comprehend the divine completely. So we should seek to share all insights we can and be ready to learn, for instance, from the techniques of the spiritual life that are available in religions other than our own. It is interesting that most religions have a transcendent reference point, a mysterium tremendum, that comes to be known by deigning to reveal itself, himself, herself, to humanity; that the transcendent reality is compassionate and concerned; that human beings are creatures of this supreme, supra mundane reality in some way, with a high destiny that hopes for an everlasting life lived in close association with the divine, either as absorbed without distinction between creature and creator, between the divine and human, or in a wonderful intimacy which still retains the distinctions between these two orders of reality.

When we read the classics of the various religions in matters of prayer, meditation, and mysticism, we find substantial convergence, and that is something to rejoice at. We have enough that conspires to separate us; let us celebrate that which unites us, that which we share in common.

Surely it is good to know that God (in the Christian tradition) created us all (not just Christians) in his image, thus investing us all with infinite worth, and that it was with all humankind that God entered into a covenant relationship, depicted in the covenant with Noah when God promised he would not destroy his creation again with water. Surely we can rejoice that the eternal word, the Logos of God, enlightens everyone — not just Christians, but everyone who comes into the world; that what we call the Spirit of God is not a Christian preserve, for the Spirit of God existed long before there were Christians, inspiring and nurturing women and men in the ways of holiness, bringing them to fruition, bringing to fruition what was best in all. We do scant justice and honor to our God if we want, for instance, to deny that Mahatma Gandhi was a truly great soul, a holy man who walked closely with God. Our God would be too small if he was not also the God of Gandhi: if God is one, as we believe, then he is the only God of all his people, whether they acknowledge him as such or not. God does not need us to protect him. Many of us perhaps need to have our notion of God deepened and expanded. It is often said, half in jest, that God created man in his own image and man has returned the compliment, saddling God with his own narrow prejudices and exclusivity, foibles and temperamental quirks. God remains God, whether God has worshippers or not.

This mission in Birmingham to which I have been invited is a Christian celebration, and we will make our claims for Christ as unique and as the Savior of the world, hoping that we will live out our beliefs in such a way that they help to commend our faith effectively. Our conduct far too often contradicts our profession, however. We are supposed to proclaim the God of love, but we have been guilty as Christians of sowing hatred and suspicion; we commend the one whom we call the Prince of Peace, and yet as Christians we have fought more wars than we care to remember. We have claimed to be a fellowship of compassion and caring and sharing, but as Christians we often sanctify sociopolitical systems that belie this, where the rich grow ever richer and the poor grow ever poorer, where we seem to sanctify a furious competitiveness, ruthless as can only be appropriate to the jungle.

 

A Letter to my Future Wife: Why I will always wash Your Panties

Dear Serwaa,

I am writing to respond to the question you asked in your last letter. In that letter, you asked me to be sincere with you and tell you the truth. And what is this truth you wanted to hear?

You said there would be a day in our marriage that you may fall very ill and cannot do anything. Your question was, on such a day, if your pants or underwear are dirty and you plead with me to wash them, would I do it?

Serwaa, my answer is yes. I will wash your pants any day. You don’t need to fall sick. I will gladly wash your pants anytime there’s the need to do so. I will wash them any day of the month. That is my answer. And it is the truth you wanted to hear from me.

If you are still doubting, then this is my explanation: You have washed and helped me wash my clothes and underwear a number of times. If there is nothing wrong with you washing my pants then there should be nothing wrong with me washing yours.

I know any man who will chance on this letter will read it with a face contorted in distaste. For some men, this is an unimaginable absurdity. In our part of the world, it is not normal for a man to do this. Even if any man washes his wife’s undies, he will be too shy to mention it in public for fear of being ridiculed and called names. In Akan, they will call you “Barima kotobonku” and other derogatory names. But it is something I will do with pride. Men who do this prove that they are the real men. As for potent manhood, even the mad men on the streets have it, sometimes bigger and better.

Washing my partner’s clothes will not shrink the size of my manhood. It will not make me less intelligent. It doesn’t take anything away from me. So don’t be worried that if you fall ill in our marriage, I will pile up everything you have to do until you recover. I am a real man, Serwaa. Trust me!

A man who cannot wash your pant is not worthy of taking that pant off you.

There is a problem about how we have been socialized and continue to be indoctrinated about what makes us real men in our part of the world. One day I ate lunch with a colleague worker at Multimedia. She was the one who had gone to buy the food and after eating, I volunteered to wash the plate. She protested. But I insisted. So I did wash the plate.

While this was going on, there was a head of department who was also eating lunch in our kitchen. He did not take it lightly that I, instead of the lady, washed the dishes.

“This is wrong and you should never allow it to happen,” she told the lady. “When you do this, you bring to question the kind of training your mother gave you at home,” he said. The look on his face and the sound of his voice were a proportionate mixture of anger and disappointment at the lady.

“I said I would wash the plates but he insisted,” the lady explained to him but he would not take it.

“You should also have insisted. That is not how you were brought up,” the man said. I tried to explain but he would not listen.

“Manasseh, do you see what you have caused?” the lady asked me when the man had left.

“What have I done wrong?” I asked.

“This is Ghana and you know not every man thinks like you,” she said feeling worried.

Serwaa, not every man thinks like me but it’s about time we forced them to think that way. I was brought up in a family and in a society where the man has no place in the kitchen. In the northern part of the Ghana, a lot of the men go down south to do menial jobs. Some of those odd jobs include pounding fufu at chop bars and restaurants. But when such men go back home, they will never help their wives in the kitchen. When they are hungry and their wives are not at home, they will starve until the women return.

Growing up, if I went to the kitchen and my sister slapped me for no reason, my father would side with her without enquiring of the reason. “You are a man. What do you want in the kitchen?” he would ask. But I have grown to realize such terrible mentality is wrong and I have trained myself to be real.

Now that I am single, I cook and wash and do everything on my own. Why in the godforsaken name of masculinity must I fold my arms and watch my wife do everything in the house when I marry? Is it not madness?

Don’t worry about the man you are about to marry, my sweetheart. I will be with you in the kitchen and outside the kitchen. I am deficient in the preparation of some meals but there are components of the cooking I can still help with. When I prepare okro soup, I often lose the slimy wires that make swallowing fun. But that does not mean I should stay out of the kitchen if you are preparing okro soup.

Serwaa, I want to marry you as a wife, and not as a house help. We are equal partners and there is not going to be a master-servant relationship in our marriage. You can count on me as a helper and so can I.

The only warning I will have to issue is that you should not take me for granted. Some women have the tendency to take such men for granted and ride on them like impotent donkeys. I am your husband and you are my wife. We have to understand what we are going into. We must understand the realities of how two distinct individuals with different potentials can complement each other to make a happy home, bring out the best in us and fulfill the purpose of God for our existent on this planet.

On this reality shall we build our marriage and the gates of divorce shall never prevail against it.

Your love,

Manasseh.

To read more articles from Manasseh Azure Awuni visit his personal website www.manassehazure.com His email address is azureachebe2@yahoo.com

A Letter to my Future Father-in-Law

Retired Major Boateng I presume you would be called. I bring you good tidings from my home, especially my kid sister I guess you have seen me with Baaba, your daughter, a few times Yes, I’m not her course mate, if that’s what you think

I’m neither her church member, I barely even go to churchAs a matter of fact, I want to make her the bearer of my ten seeds

And… are you serious about the dowry?

Did you say I needed to pay a thousand Ghana cedis which was the worth of a bottle of Schnapps? Like seriously?

That buys an ultra-modern laptop ooo, you know!

And, I don’t even have a second- hand desktop, not to talk of a laptop

If only a drink for the gods is costing that much, I’m not surprised you say I should pay two thousand Ghana cedis for only six yards of GTP

If you care to know, I’ve been wearing affordable ‘the-white-man-is-dead’ for as long as I can remember because I know very well I can’t afford Printex, Woodin or even GTP

Baaba even loves the ‘oburoniweewu’ more than I do. Ask her

She showed me a tall list of other to-buy items on the dowry form

Let me ask you, Mr. Boateng. You say you go to church. Don’t you want us to fulfill God’s task of us multiplying and filling the Earth or you’re just trying to be rebellious?

How much did Adam pay to God for Eve? If even the father of all men, who lived in the abundance of food in the Eden garden under God’s economy, paid nothing for the first woman, how heartlessly can you ask an unemployed graduate like me to pay as much as five thousand Ghana cedis for bride price, under such suffocating Mahamaic economic conditions?

Do you care to know how much the Brazilian hair she wears costs? As much as eight hundred cedis! I pay for it every two months.

I guess she asked you for money to buy skin-toning creams like ages ago. It’s not as though she doesn’t use them any longer. I pay at least two hundred cedis for them every three months.

I paid for her one thousand Ghana cedis worth iPhone last month.

When last did you pay for her lecture notes and church offertory? Of course you can’t remember but I took over from where you stopped.

When you were in other war-torn countries fighting for peace, I was doing same here in GH, warding off blood-thirsty mosquitoes from her succulent skin.

I have paid half of her fees before; that was somewhere last academic year, when you used all your peace-keeping earnings on lotto.

Retired Major, I’m not well- versed in calculations but if you sum up all my expenses made, I suppose you even have a deficit to pay me.

I won’t talk. I’ll just give you my account number for you to deposit into it the about two thousand Ghana cedis, after deducting your five thousand cedis.

As I said, I won’t talk because I‘ve seen your son, Fiifi, around my kid sister, whom I’ve been taking care of for some time now.

He comes here in the name of studying with her but I know Nana Akua is a medical student and Fiifi studies archaeology; unless he wants to tell me that archaeology is a synonym of medicine.

Have you heard of the latest Samsung Galaxy tablet? Ask of the price because that would be the least item he’s going to buy on my dowry list.

I even want him to buy the latest Mercedes C class when the time is due but because he runs errands in calling Baaba for me sometimes, I’ll have pity on him; he would buy only two Hummers!

Ask Baaba for my account number. I’ll be expecting my money by the close of working day tomorrow because I need it to buy some diapers for my first seed she’s carrying. This is your yet-to-be son and father-in-law *feeling annoyed*!

Reply from Retd. Major Boateng: Oh, you should have said all of these all this while. As for my son Fiifi, he definitely would be your son-in-law, too. He just told me about his marriage plans yesterday. And did you say I’m going to be a grandfather? Goodness! Look, Baaba is even here. I’ve been forcing her to marry you as soon as possible. Come for her any day, anytime. In fact, come for her today. I was only testing you with that supposed dowry list. You have passed. Just forget bride price. If you have any two- sure, let me know. Ok? Son-in-law papapaaa!

NB; When coming, prepare for your funeral, too. I would test my never- used AK- 47 on you. Let me see if you pass that, too *feeling anxious*!