Friday 7 September 2018

Faded Memories

When I die, let me stay dead.
Let me die alone.
Don’t make it more painful
Don’t honor me with too many deaths
Honor me, but not with things that wither
Do not adorn me with flowers
First me, then the forget-me-nots…
Nothing lasts forever and I don’t intend to
Do you ever cherish memories?
Do cherish memories, if only u made some
If only, you were not pawned
Blur me from time to time but don’t cast me a slur
Too many troubles, each with his, but enduring memories never fade
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Writer tweets @vilejah

Thursday 23 August 2018

A fool, his noose and thoughts

They say you only know the essence of tact when a fly ever settles on your testicles. In as much as this assertion is flawed because it precludes women from the fray of those who might need tact to go about their everyday lives which really is not my focus for now, I am of the view that this adage or maxim is for those who have everything to lose. I don’t know if the seriousness of this issue has been downplayed because it is a housefly that has been used to portray the imagery which gives people the luxury to think that tact is what it should take, but imagine a tsetsefly settling on your testicles and you are now reading a manual or instructions on how to unsettle it from its new home. Not me. I will just slap it outright altogether with the balls and allow the chips fall where they may. Let me kill the tsetsefly and have my pains to deal with.

 I am sure that Mr. Alban Kingsford Sumani Bagbin, a supposedly National Democratic Congress (NDC) Party stalwart is at an all time low since it is becoming apparent that he has found himself taunted by a tsetsefly for a long time such that being tired to further contain the impudence on his testicles, has picked a sledge hammer to hit it on his own balls thereby bursting it in the process.
Why do people think that they can only make reforms or gain capital by denigrating others or passing disparaging remarks about others to make their points sink in?
With Alban Bagbin’s status as he seeks to profess to us as though it has ever mattered, he could have convened a meeting to table his problems or findings on why the NDC party lost in the 2016 General Elections but he decided to sear and punch holes in the party’s mast and drown everyone with him. It is alright to wash your dirty linen in public but it is also prudent to note that the kind of linen you seek to wash would turn out blinding white and clean. You do not come washing rags in public without minding the fact that you would offend the sensibilities of observers.

In Mr. Bagbin’s quest to becoming the flag bearer of the largest opposition party and eventually becoming the President; the Father of the nation, it was unwise of him to call the ability of the disabled or handicapped into focus. I personally think that it would pass as one of his all time lowest in his political career and so do most people. He should have known that no one tests bullets they have collected for battle on themselves just to ascertain its potency. It’s suicidal to go on that tangent especially in public because some things can only be contextual. Even the infamous bank heist or closing and consolidating of 7 banks is being held in camera, let alone questioning the ability of the handicapped?

Whereas some observers think that his quest to lead the party is far-fetched simply because of his dwindling electoral fortunes at his constituency which was nothing worth writing home about, hence would not be a match to unseat a sitting President who trounced an incumbent to become the number one Gentleman of the nation, I think that its beside the point. What matters is, he has to retract his words and if they were not passed to spite people with disability, then he should explain his stance to make us understand him, for Ghanaians have always been tolerant with Politicians.



Writer tweets @vilejah

Monday 20 August 2018

Gaming Pastors


Anointing Oil.

Consultation fees.

Mezuzah.

Yamaka.

Talismans.

Waist bands.

Wrist bands.

Lotteries and gambling in all forms is a growing phenomenon that has caught up with us like a fully blown virus that won’t go away anytime sooner.  And while it is equally attracting a commensurate concern from a few conservatives, it is also worthy to note that we cannot just wish it away unless our law makers decide to hold the bull by the horn.

A cursory look around our towns and cities readily gives you insight into gullible people being exploited in all forms, all in the name of religion and its attendant salvation.  Charlatans with bibles, posing to have heard and seen God are abusing the citizenry.

What happened to "freely, I gave you' freely you shall give or they probably paid for all these gifts? Given that, in tandem with the findings of consumer studies which posits that consumers are rational at all times and not gullible, can the government still look beyond that maxim and salvage its people?
Why do we allow fraudsters to parade and exploit our very own with impunity? If a President had so much compassion for some displaced Yemeni citizens in times past, then it is prim and proper that same compassion is extended to Ghanaian citizens.

Freedom of Association cannot be translated into an avenue to abuse people and offend the sensibilities of observers. All of us may be groping in the dark, but a ray of light in the tunnel should be enough hope that a silver lining is nigh.

How different is a Pastor who engages in all forms of extortion by fronting salvation under the guise of religion from a certified businessman who consults for a living? How many Pastors give to some of their dire and needy church members? All they do is to take, take till the members are pale and lost as it were.

How sensible is it that the one professing to be the bridge between the flock and Jesus; the supreme watchman and protector be guided by a host of trained security and heavily built men yet continually admonishing and asking the congregation to believe and trust in their maker and to think that all these is funded by the same church is lost on some observers. Is it a situation of the congregation casting their bread on the waters while the pastors and leaders going around to gather them?

We can’t speak to the calling issues of these pastors since we were not there but we can speak to their responses because we have been admonished to know them by their works and thus far, their work ratings do not seem to be making things easier. We cannot begin to worry about them when we already have that of the politicians to contend with.
 

In as much as the people would have to be conscientized  to realize that they are followers of Jesus and not the pastors to forestall most of these anomalies, the government also owe it to the people to salvage them from these organized crimes. Government must scrutinize some of these religious groupings to ascertain whether they have the goodwill of the people at heart or they are just in for their family and friends because the hunger games must stop and the musical chairs must go with it.


Writer tweets @the vilejah


Monday 13 August 2018

Tribute - To The Departed


I do not intend to belabor the sad incident since everyone who matters is distraught and disoriented but someone’s feeling can never be mine so I just deem it appropriate to state the way I see and feel about the sudden and untimely loss of a dear friend.


Even though we all know death is inevitable and could come calling any moment from now but somewhere in our thoughts, we find ourselves indestructible, invisible and immuned to ominous death until it pips one of us. I must say I was frozen in my seat after a hard days hustle when I heard the sad news of the passing away of Nana Turkson aka Bertrand King. I felt a lot of indescribable things at the same time but the highlight of it all was my inactivity until I finally managed to heave a long sigh. 

I have not met the young man in flesh before but I can conveniently say we are friends because we have interacted on so many occasions here on social media for the past 8years. It all began after being Facebook friends when I slid into his inbox one afternoon. I needed help and found it convenient to contact him because of his strategic standing in the entertainment space. I was struggling with one of the many things I wanted to do with my life, music. I wanted to be a musician and seeing his in-depth know-how in the game and his web of network, I did not hesitate to contact him just so he can listen to my demos and take it from there.

We found out we gelled on other things than music and have been chatting since. Even though he was mostly in the eye of the public, he comes as a shy person. He was respectful, affable, patient and thoughtful. He was helpful, humorous and dependable. He would come to my inbox from time to time to ask me how I was doing with my music or when I publish a note he found thoughtful. The last time he asked of my music endeavor was on the 15th of July which happens to be my birthday, when I told him about how that ship had wrecked long time ago and I have since counted my loss. Did he like it, no? But I was quick to tell him that I was young and naïve then and we both laughed and bade each other good bye until whence. 

I considered him as a big brother because of how he comes checking up on me and how I was faring. It meant a lot to me and thankfully I made it known to him while he could still feel it. I told him about his amazing persona while he was still prowling this dog-eat-dog world. I must say I have learnt a lot from him and to give myself some closure for his inability to bade a goodbye, it is only right that I dedicate this lines of mine to him.


Why death antagonizes life, I don’t know 
Why must death always have the last say?
No matter what time in life, it makes us pay
Deep within its recesses, life is shallow
Always living behind sorrow
Yesterday you were here, today it’s all memories
The ef sound in death deflated your bubbly life
Dimmed your light when it wasn’t even twilight
Though speechless, may the yonder treat you kindly
And keep your gentle soul until we meet again
We will miss you Nana Turkson aka Bertrand King
Rest in Peace.
Nante Yie!
                                                                                                                                                                 



Writer tweets @vilejah

Friday 10 August 2018

Pale Shadows


After a long hiatus, I decided to break the jinx that has characterized my inability to publish my reeling thoughts and perspectives in recent times by pondering over why I stopped in the first place which ostensibly launches an onslaught of careful diagnosis and its attendant prognosis into a deep ROOTED problem in my environment.

Feelings distract. Once you catch an unguided one, you are on a downward spiral to nothingness. Void. At most you'd only be left with a pale shadow of your former self - a work that was in progress and could have blossomed into a thing of awe and glory. 

It is necessary to note herein, that whatever you are daring at requires time to maximize good utils to make one satisfied and if this pursuit is not meaningful then one should by all means desist. When was the last time you did something you loved to do? When the last time you actually did something that made you fulfilled and got you feeling like you were chipping at what life is going to be; the future and the feeling of what is to be?

 A day at a time.

Whatever you do, it doesn't matter if it’s the characterizing money, plaudits, platitudes and fame that spurs you on, it makes someone happy and so should you. By all means find something you love to do and do it regularly because in the end, it's all that matters. It's all that would ever matter.

What are you known for? What are you contributing to the society, and most importantly is it just situational or you are passionate about it?  Is it what you set out to do or it’s just accidental? Spurring yourself on to whatever you may be falling in love with may be the curve ball, and therein lies the root of the mishap.

Life is supposed to be simple but our daily choices make it complex and it's even saddening to note the effort we put in to make ourselves unhappy. Reading comes to me with ease and anybody who is looking through the looking glass should tell you that it's even easier if you are the one trying to churn out your perspectives for public scrutiny and engagement. And right there marks the groundbreaking to writing again.

We stop because people don't seem to like nor relate to our style or in worst scenarios, our presence. We stop because the plaudits are staggering and spatial. We stop because we haven't won yet. We stop to scratch people's asses. We stop just so we can be validated. We stop when we begin to be too focused on ourselves. We stop when we become inadequate. We stop when we want it so bad. We stop because we feel we are not good.

Well, I just might start publishing again because I cannot have my thoughts and sentiments deadlocked on my computer when I ever fail to wake up one day, for death is inevitable.


Writer tweets @vilejah