The Eighth ball!

I have always been fascinated with the eighth ball because of its uniqueness and all the rules that govern its use. The eighth ball also known as the blackball is well known to folks who play billiard pockets also known as pool, and they can attest to the wonderful nature of the eighth ball.

The ultimate object of the pool session is to legally pocket the eighth ball into a designated pocket (not just any hole) after pocketing the first seven balls without which a game can never be won.  Even though the eighth ball is racked together with the other balls before the break, it is not governed by the same laws that governs the other balls, be it the striped or the solid-coloured balls.

The eighth ball cannot be knocked off intentionally or unintentionally because it results in a loss or a foul for the player; neither can it be pocketed ahead of the other balls. These and other rules make it unique on the field of play.

Are you an eighth ball? Are you different? Do you dare to be different?  Life is too damn short; too damn long to be part of the fray, to be in the queue and be singing the chorus. It is easier singing the chorus because you can mute your voice when it gets to the difficult parts or the parts where you really do not know the words. It is even easier because you could just mime the words and no one will know whether you are making a mistake or social loafing.

Primarily, we live in a society that does not allow us to be an eighth ball, a society that does not allow us to be different, a society that does not allow us to take initiative, lest you are labeled or out casted and relegated to the back for being a deviant or too-knowing. I keep wondering why things are the way they are? Sometimes, I am tempted to ask if my dare to be unique sabotages someone’s progress or existence. Yes, they feel insecure and only feel better when others follow their trail and that is how they feed their ego.  If not, why don’t they mind their businesses while I mind mine since I am still within the legal parameters?

The world is continually trying to conform us to its image; to behave in accordance with prevailing modes and customs whereas we have been admonished in Romans 12:2 “And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.”

Do not let people fit you into their mold because life is too precious and golden to be lived in mediocrity. Unfortunately, many people are trapped in mediocrity, the more reason why they do not dare to be different.

It is time you stop playing games and wearing masks or trying to be someone other than your real self. You need to work at being accepted for whom you are and stop embracing the pull to be like everyone else and that requires courage. Unhappiness and frustration sets in when we lack the courage but to conform and try to be like others. God created you the way you are and privy of all shortcomings for a purpose so just keep your head up.

Pleasing people is one of the easiest things we can ever do, but it ultimately make us unhappy. It is nice to hear all the praise comments which make us feel good about ourselves and that is just okay as long as you do not derive your self-worth from it. People are fickle and so confused for us to place our sense of worth in their opinions. And we do all of these to gain acceptance and approval into their fold. It is time you break away from their manipulations and control.

You can break away and be different by having a dream and continually pursuing it. You can only walk in their shadows if you do not have a dream.  Nurse a dream if you don’t have one because evidently, you have been too busy conforming than doing you. Additionally, start doing what is right and stop doing what is safe by worrying about what people’s expectations of you should be, take a risk so you don’t regret in the near future. Doing what matters to you is a sure way to excellence since you tend to do it with all your heart and passion.

God wants to take us, with all our weaknesses and inabilities, and transform us, by working from the inside out, to do something powerful on this earth. If we're going to overcome insecurities and succeed at being ourselves, we can't continue to be afraid of what everybody else may think. We can't continue to allow others to fit us into their mold. You are different! You are unique! God created you this way to accomplish His purpose here on earth so go ahead and be a wildcard; THE EIGHTH BALL!

Timeline and Technology (T&T)

“I don’t have time!” is a phrase we are too familiar with and have used once too many times in our everyday lives and it’s the stark truth. I can imagine what and how you would have used TIME, if it was under your control, and there you go manipulating it to suit your whims, right?. Certainly, you can’t have time, so forget it.  At most, you can only share in it. No one has control over time; neither can anyone stop it so forget about the doom mongers who want to bring the world to an end in 2012.

Notwithstanding different time zones, there have been different times in ages past, characterized by their own related activities and am pleased to remind and welcome you to the technological age, where reality has been relegated to the background for the total embrace of the virtual world; where people would rather keep to themselves than other people and by the help of their ubiquitous mobile phones and the internet.

In times past, you were considered out-of-sync when you owned a bigger mobile phone that could not go into your pocket, but now it’s what’s in vogue and you tend to wonder how the world thinks. Sometimes, I am tempted to think that the whole world is mad because we all tend to think the same. And if you dare think different, you would need all of your strength and mind to defend the opposition that seeks to query your unique line of thinking and ways of doing things and before you know it, you have aligned yourself to the fray and singing the chorus of the masses.

The mobile phones have been of immense help to our age. It has hastened development globally and in every way by helping us disseminate real-time information. It has averted so many unsavoury and unwanted situations among others, but for every choice, there is a price to pay and this price unfortunately is so grave and fatal.

The mobile phone is a distraction. Distraction to what? To the normal way of life. And what is the normal way of life? Normal way of life must be the basic way of living, devoid of attracting so many materialism into our lives, devoid of perpetually chasing things that are without our grasp. The phone distracts us from work and other serious and important matters; it is that thin line between productivity and activity. Some people browse all through work either because supervision is lax or because they just cannot do without it.

You see a lot of people rushing to their various places of work in the morning with depressed faces and blood-shot eyes because they were probably surfing the internet all night long or talking on the phone at reduced rates or other times free tariffs from their service providers. It is unfortunately so because they have friends in different time zones or because they could not do it during the day. They lack the needed intrinsic motivation to work and usually are not enthused about work except for those who have a regular task or quota to contribute and these groups of people are mostly tired during productive hours or sleeping on the job.

People now drive with one hand controlling the gear and the steering wheel while the other hand clutches the phone and the term it dexterity. The phone has to be handy so as to stay in touch with other people around the world. Stay in-touch, doing what? At the expense of your life? People practically cross the roads with their fingers on the tab of the phones, sending a message or checking one.

Relationships have been sacrificed on the altar of technology. Yes we are interconnected and in touch, but mostly with total strangers; people we are hoping are real, people we hope to meet someday. We no longer chat with friends that are around us because there is a stranger chatting you via an application or a gadget. You go to a party and what you see is everybody’s head buried in their palms fidgeting with their phones with loud music blaring in the background and you tend to ask yourself, what happened to those times when you danced all night long and looked forward to leaving the party grounds with a damsel you have spotted among the crowd?

Take a visit to homes and the scene is so pathetic. The whole family is logged on to the internet via their own choice of gadgets. Some are in front of bigger screens thus computers and some hooked on to their mobile phones and none of them is engaged in any meaningful chat; all of them flirting one way or the other with people miles away; some they are not even sure are real.

Parents are happy their children do not go out anymore, where they will be exposed to other perceived and stereotyped lifestyles from their neighbors, not knowing that, their children are up to their necks in danger by indulging in self-destructive thoughts and activities online waiting to go berserk.

There are other groups of people who do not have the TIME to come and chat all day and night, no! They come and dupe people; make money. For these groups of persons, e.g. the Prostitute, the internet is solely for commerce. It has offered them bigger platforms to solicit for clients and tell you what, it’s booming like hot cake and this makes me want to ask, how does hot cake taste like? All they do is put up erotic photos or even in some instances, presentable photos and you are still game.

Some say its modernity so we should get used to it. Get used to the fact that, students don’t read their books anymore? Get used to the fact that porn sites are triggering in your face all day every day until you visit the site and feed your eyes for a while? Get used to the fact that so many people do not write with a pen on a paper or into their books anymore since they can both type on the computer or their sophisticated gadgets and get them printed in a fleeting moment? We have practically forgotten how the world was some years back before the advent of the technological age and that shows how involved our minds are in this destructive stance.

Many people do not use their minds anymore. There is the calculator, thesaurus, phone book and other applications and inventions that are readily available to aid us. How many phone numbers can you dial off the cuff? How do you reach out to someone when you are distressed and in danger somewhere without your phone since all we do is go to phone book on the menu and scroll down to the desired person we wish to call or just by typing the first letter of the receiver’s name and voila, s/he is on the other side, unless there is a situation?

We used to remember so many phone numbers because we kept phone books and kept punching same numbers overly until it gets etched in our minds. At this pace and rate, I think all of us are endangered because, what happens when the server at the service provider’s office is switched off? The thin line between doom and chaos is just a click away. What if the man manning the server sleeps on duty? What happens when that man presses the off button on an experimental spree? We go to gatherings and our mobile phones are rendered useless because of traffic and pressure on the location and that makes it hard to locate each other let alone pass on information.

Can you even imagine MTN, Vodafone, Expresso, Airtel and other service providers go off for a day like ECG does? I think someone has to save the already lost world because the whole world is plunging into an abyss. It is rightly so, because those who are not inclined will also be dragged along and we need a backup plan as soon as possible.

To wed or not to wed

It has become a trend or a norm and almost becoming compelling for married couples to engage in white weddings or sign court papers so as to bind each other legally just in case the unexpected happens as a result of the uncertain nature of mankind. if people are that unreliable as far as their emotions are concerned and can go off or change at any time, why then do they engage in a potentially endless drama by opting for that choice because i have come to realize that most is not about the marriage and the need for love and that lifetime companionship but are for their own selfish motives, so as to lay claim when the much dreaded situation sets in or to pursue alimony.

I want to believe that it is one of the never failing reasons why most marriages are not working lately, because the couples misbehave or do otherwise knowing they are legally bounded in a 'life and death' situation with their willing partners. It beats me why the law has to compel us to love when it's purely dependent on emotions and commonsense. The question i want to ask is, is the white wedding working even with the law in tow? 

I asked because it is has been observed that it is doing more harm than good to most newly wedded couples, in that, they get frustrated after going through what it takes to organize a white wedding of a sort. It takes so long a time for so many to regain their feet as they get so indebted to their sponsors, under whose auspices the wedding took place.

Some also are not able to deal with the psychological trauma or stress that comes with it and finally give in to the dictates of their mind; yes they become abnormal and in worst cases, become mad.

White wedding is so classy and colourful but is it worth what we go through to be named one of those? It has a story behind it and that story is, it's mostly suited for the westerners and does not perfectly fit for our culture because of the things we place our values on or what we deem appropriate.

All i am trying to say is that people have to be in love to marry, they must not be baited by whited weddings to lure them into something they are not really keen on just because they want to be hailed and cheered by their friends. You've got to be cut for it; you've got to do it because you can do it, not because you have to do it. That will be on the defensive and your nemesis will come calling soon after the guests are gone home and some of the chairs and tables broken on the lawn and paper packs scattered all over and if you were lucky, you would have been chauffeured out of the place on your way to your honeymoon.

In our society, it is evident that it is the ladies that force their men to wed them at the expense of our cherished and outstanding traditional marriage and at all cost. And sometimes, i wonder what it is with some of the men, they lack commonsense that they cannot tell that they cannot afford what the lady is asking for and reasonably talk her into something they both can afford and allows themselves to be led to the slaughter house. These white weddings have made it impossible for potentially suitable couples to marry thus going their separate ways only to give in to the one who can afford.

Unfortunately, it does not end with them, they go out there and pollute the minds of those who care to listen to their tales about how all men are not good and are the real devil incarnate and on the other hand, how all women should be killed under the sun. They make love look evil, they swear not to love again when they have never really loved before.

Let's access our capacity in terms of finance, psychology, maturity, simplicity and make choices within our means so as to limit the ripple effects of our bad choices and to help us enjoy happy marriage lives. Society has to let us know that it’s solely a matter of choice and not compulsory for everyone, the yet-to-marry and the yet-to-be married should also know that their choice remains theirs and not what people are going to think about them. Just be yourself!

The Power behind the Performance!

Have you said thank you to someone all day? Are you appreciative of people’s effort at shaping your life or boosting it one way or the other? Most of us do everything by ourselves. We eat, sleep and wake up on our own hence our inability to say thank you to the father; whoever you believe is in charge.

Scientifically, for every action, there is an equal and proportional reaction, but socially the reaction becomes enormous and gigantic in many folds and the effect becomes rippling; that is why if a child grows up in an environment full of love and care, he grows up to effect people in a more positive way and a menace for a child that grows up in an environment full of hatred.

For every performance, there’s got to be a power behind it. It could be intrinsic or extrinsic or both but however it is, the domineering power turns out to be the extrinsic, and that usually becomes the steam in the vessel.

Who has empowered you? Who empowers you? Do you say “thank you?” if yes, how do you say it? Some pay in kind and some in cash, the choice remains yours but never fail to pay back. People extend kind gestures to us in so many varied forms, some emotionally, financially, spiritually and even materially and all it takes is to show gratitude by saying ‘thank you” unless the gesture comes with a condition which must be fulfilled anyway because you accepted the terms there-in and anything short of that amounts to dishonesty.

Maybe you don’t care, you are ungrateful, but you can never be the recipient of that person’s kindness again and before you know it, no one will even look your way because you probably might have replicated it towards everyone in your life. They don’t only come when you fail to acknowledge someone, they also come in the way we talk to people and the way we regard them. Can you imagine, some people are so rigid and stuck up that they don’t even laugh at jokes? Well, it is a form of inappreciation.

At functions, we say vote of thanks, at events, sponsors of the event are mentioned and hyped for their support because it is the right thing to do, so why can’t you emulate these examples and start mentioning your sponsors by thanking them, not publicly though, but in a special way that will make them feel like whatever their effort, was worthwhile or you want to be the proverbial nine that failed to thank Jesus Christ after the healing session?

In IT, there are two faces to a programme, namely the front end, which is also known as the graphic user interface thus the interactive part and the back-end where they arrange and put up what you do at the front end. Most of us don’t even know that there is always the rough side that gives way for the smooth side. A typical example is the air-conditioner which generates so much heat at the back just to maintain a very appreciable chilling level inside. The ATM and the vending machines all get stocked by people who we hardly see and that should be the more reason why we have to be appreciative of the front-end and by so doing the back-end will get the feedback.

I keep writing because I know you read it and I am grateful for the fact that you spare part of your busy schedule to read my train of thoughts, and the thought in itself is elating.

 It is good to say thank you because it paves way for you, it’s like opening an account full of goodwill with the entity; be it an individual or an organization.  Say thank you to anyone who has done something for you even if you could have done it for yourself or you think it’s trivial. Don’t assume it was automatic; there’s surely someone working at the back-end for you to function well at the front.

For an artiste to perform on stage, there surely has to be some manager of a sort, a costume designer, a coach or a producer and a host of other people that makes up a team and deserves a mention aside their rewards which comes in the form of money. Therefore you have to be mindful of the fact that wherever you are and whatever you find yourself doing, there is a power behind your performance.

Finally, this piece is to thank YOU and everyone on my timeline for shaping my life from near and far, directly and indirectly, positively and negatively because you guys are the POWER behind my PERFORMANCE!!

What is your name?

“What is your name?” or “what are your names?” are fully loaded questions we are often confronted with, in our everyday walks of life. The question is fully loaded because your name tends to portray who you are, where you are coming from and at most your descent.

Oftentimes, people chance upon me and ask me what my ‘Christian name’ is and as a rule of thumb, I quickly say Yayra, to which a few become disgruntled at my audacity, thus making them challenge my tenacious stance. I often reckon that they wanted me to mention Alfred which happens to be my English name that is if it’s really is.

Well, I do not blame them because, to a very large section of the public, everything foreign or English is Christian; since our history depicts the advent of the Whiteman’s religion and it’s imposition on the African continent as a whole. Personally, Yayra also known as Benedict is more Christian than Alfred which only passes as an English name.

There is evidence beyond reasonable doubt that the Whiteman did not introduce Christianity into Africa and there is nothing like Christian or Islamic names. Before the advent of the Whiteman’s purported civilization which they did under the cover of Christianity, there was civilization in Egypt and the Apostle Paul had also been to Alexandria, the capital of Egypt; thus the Whiteman only proliferated the Christian religion.

A Christian is not depicted by his/her name, but by his doings; his Christ-like nature. Christianity is a way of life rather than just naming one’s self in a fashion. Names have meanings and certainly have histories, thus their origins. Most names were passed on from generation to generation because they are cherished family names and they mean a lot to those who wield them. For example, the name Jesus is a name that can be found all over the world especially In Brazil but only the savior had Christ attached to his. Names like Zebedee, Bartholomew, Jabesh, Achitophel, Zachariah and Judas Iscariot are Jewish names and absolutely nobody changed their names after Baptism to portray their Christian faith or anything whatsoever.

The onus rather lied on them to live Christ-like. It was only Peter who had his name changed from Cephas because Jesus Christ said; he was the bedrock on which he will build his church. Africans or Ghanaians had their names changed because the Whiteman in Africa could not mention our native names thus resorting to names like John, Peter, Johnson, Mary, Agatha and these are not Christian names.

The Muslims also name themselves Abdullah, Mohammed, Faisal, Abubakar after their forebears, so it is quite absurd for new convents to change their names from Stella to Salamatu and from James to Jalal, a name he cannot possibly identify with. You could still be called James and worship the Islamic way or Mawusi and Akos and still be Christ-like.

Our names are not Christian or Islamic names because there is nothing like that. They are rather English, Jewish, and Arabic names. It is even unfortunate if the clergy, who is supposed to know better with emphasis on admonishing us to live Christ-like, rather goes on name changing spree; for what? No wonder they have shifted from their core duties of salvaging the poor and lost souls.

We live in a dispensation where you are branded disrespectful and labeled with all kinds of names if you question the status quo or ask perceived difficult questions. It is so because, they themselves do not know it and instead of portraying their ignorance, they will rather fault you for the effrontery.

Before I recap my write-up, Baptism is supposed to be done with the full consent of the individual being baptized. However we often see babies being baptized when they can hardly utter a word, and that amounts to imposition of a faith on that innocent child. It is right and just to present the child before the Lord and groomed in the way s/he should go just like Jesus Christ, the icon of Christianity was made to experience until the child is grown enough to decide whether he wants to be baptized into that faith or not and that is how come Jesus Christ got baptized by John the Baptist in his adulthood.

In the backlog of all these matters arising, it is in the right direction for some churches to introduce ‘confirmation’ where the already baptized baby could affirm his or her stand and to renew his commitment to the faith and become an eventual member of the church.

It is also imperative we cherish our names, especially the native ones that readily identifies you with a family, culture, a sub-region and what have you.

To this end, I would like to say Christianity or being a Christian is bigger than just attending church and changing of names but rather, it is a way of life; being like Christ, an example worth modeling and still being able to identify with your descent.

THE CROSS!!

He stealthily walked into the cathedral which was situated on the big compound, looked around and saw no one; exactly what he wanted, so he made himself comfortable at the back of the sanctuary, on one of the long polished pews. He sat there, still, with hands clasped in the darkly lit room as he gazed into thin air. He was not trying to even familiarize himself with his environment because he felt safe wherever he was. The street was a strange world and he was tired of living there. As he sat there trying to do himself some favor by not focusing on anything, he saw, maybe in his mind’s eyes, figurines and angels in the architecture spinning, which brought him to the present.

He became startled at the tricks his mind was playing on him. To be sure that he was seeing right, he palmed his face, closed his eyes, opened them again and the sight was still there, it was not an illusion. Even though it’s been long, it was his umpteenth time and he still felt like a stranger in the Sanctuary. He was scared and wanted to leave. He turned around to leave and what he saw distressed him the more, that he screamed and jumped out of his body. The Parish priest in a black cassock was sitting just an arm’s length from him. His scream reverberated through the void room as if legions of dead people who had ever worshiped in the cathedral were echoing and re-echoing his scream.

“Behold, my Son, the Lord is with you”, the priest said in a husky but piercing tone with indifference as he signified the sign of the cross across his face. This is not turning out to be what he anticipated; he was actually running away from everybody and though impossible; himself. He actually wanted to escape into a silent world where cruelty and insensitivity were non-existent, where none existed but him alone.

There were so many questions running through his mind and he knew the Priest had answers to them but the last thing he decided to do was to be insolent to the man of God. “Father, my life is hard, so many incidents and accidents, it’s not amusing anymore, all I need is redemption’” he managed to say after his heart beat returned to normalcy. The Rev. Father looked down on the rosary he was holding in his hands, prayed another decade of it, which actually felt like a decade, murmured something under his breath and took the lead into the sacristy.

In his petrified state, he watched the Priest walk away. He only followed after the priest beckoned him to. He took solemn strides towards the confession box as gestured by the Priest, Rev. Father Jeremiah Alonzo, and the latter into the sacristy.

While he laid in wait, he got lost in his own thoughts, an exercise he’s not done in a long while. He did not have the time and moral obligation to, because he lived on the fast lane and in the first seat, he has no time to reflect on his thoughts, let alone meditate on his life. A lone child that he was, he fell victim to a stupid custom, a bad one that mandated the first surviving Uncle or Aunt to take into custody what was left of a demised member of a family, his children inclusive until the child (ren) attained the age of eighteen years or more.

Selorm as he was affectionately called by all and sundry lost both parents in an accident when he was barely twelve years of age and nothing was ever the same again. Thoughts about how death could lay its icy hands on his parents and subject his fate into jeopardy made him so cold in this cruel world. To make matters worse, His ruthless Uncle, an insensitive and impious man pushed him into the world to fend for himself at the age of fifteen years because he claimed he was a thorn in his flesh and that of his lazy and mischievous children, which made him scrap the word ‘love’ and everything it connotes in his world. All he knew afterwards was hate and lots of it.

Every ego has the need to feed, so he joined a bad company because he needed to survive; and became part of the guys who thrives in the onset and later lost all clues to life and living it as soon as it’s about to really get started. Their survival instincts motivated them to engage in all kinds of mischief until it became fun, a lifestyle they cannot shed off anymore. He later joined an armed robbery gang, led by one jailbird, popularly known as ‘Terror’ and noted for his unsavory reputation. Terror took Selorm in, because he was tired of being in jail and it was also a source of power; building an empire they call it, that is to have ‘boys’ who can be relied upon as the extensions of their wicked and devastating thoughts.

Most wicked and recalcitrant people, whose conscience are dead are said to be victims of someone’s anger, someone’s selfish thoughts and worse of all, someone’s unmerciful ways which in turn makes them bitter and unforgiving thus holding everything constant and to get satisfied by all means necessary. He learnt the ways of his master expeditiously because he was too smart, a smartness that was too good for himself. He could think on his feet as fast as a dog could trot because of his childhood exposure which made him so deductive and analytical.

So lost in his thoughts trying to recall how everything began, he was jolted into reality by the Rev. Father who had apparently returned without his knowledge. ‘My Son, shall we proceed’?



Excerpts from my upcoming book #THE CROSS

SHE!!

She knew me on the streets

Nevertheless, she took me in and gave me a treat

She said I am the only one who doesn’t make her fret

And so she moved in with me without her fleet

I like her sensuous tit and cute feet

She has this wide grin when she bares her teeth

Often times, she tells me she doesn’t want anything discrete

Otherwise she would take a back seat

She even said she would exit my life if I ever cheat

But quickly added that it was not a threat

What I like most about her is her mindset

She likes it when I serve her in bed with her orgeat

Apart from her caring nature, she is overly sweet

Her encircling love for me is like an anklet

And mine for her is as bracing as a bracelet

I am sounding a note to you Mr.  and Miss Observer, to curb your concert

Because his commitment to me is tact as a Concrete

My name on her lips sounds like a song by a duet

When I recall the first day I saw her in her velvet dress at the banquet

Memories run through my mind like writings on a tablet

She adorns me like a locket

And Covers me like a duvet

She cleans me well like the seat on a toilet

Her arms around my waist is protective like an amulet

She likes almost all colors but have apathy for violet

I always look at her photograph which I keep in my wallet

She is safe with me like water in a sachet

And everyone knows this because it is no more a secret

Love certainly costs nothing otherwise she is way above my budget

And for this, I will blow her like a trumpet

She is very attractive like a magnet

And repels like two like-poles when she is upset

Thoughts of her rivets in my mind all day like a crotchet

Her good mornings in my ear sounds like a sonnet

And her hips like that of a bracket

No Pastor, Reverend, a Priest or a prophet

Would have to tell me that she is heaven sent

She decorates my life like a cloth decorates a closet

If I was a painter she would be my palette

If she was a printer, she would be a laser jet

If I was a car, she would be my bonnet

And if she was an office accessory, she would be a cabinet

In the home, she is my kitchenette

And on my head, she is a helmet

In the countryside, she is my hamlet

I feel at home when am with her and does not fidget

If she was a computer program, she would be a template

She is an asset because thoughts about her alone make me fit.

ABLOTSI

The word Ablotsi I think is losing its mystery and the awe that comes with it among the Ghanaian populace, manifesting the fact that globalization is working around the clock to bring us together except that we are still separated by miles and miles of oceans.

Apparently anybody who went to Ablotsi or returned were highly respected and even revered as if they were gods but it is no more so. Just a look at the person distinguished him or her from the Ghanaman who has not been anywhere beyond the shores of Ghana but lately, you have to either tag yourself as such or introduce yourself to have returned from beyond the shores of Ghana to be noticed and even in some extreme cases, you have to convince the average Ghanaman.

Hitherto, they carried bottled water about, yes because drinking our ‘hard’ water contaminated their system and rendered their stay unpleasant. It instantly made them sick so they frequented the few restaurants we had in town but thankfully to globalization, it is no more so. They even ordered their menu of Fufu, Kenkey, Banku, Atsek3, Agbeli kaklo among others even before emplaning to the motherland.

Apart from the difference in the weather where they constantly have four seasons compared to our one and half season of sunny weather and the rainy season taking the half,  and a few other things, I can confidently say we are closing the ranks and the disparity between our family and friends in Ablotsi .

Gone were the days when fashion, music and information in the Diaspora were light years ahead of us but things have changed dramatically. Lately, we even have the privilege to witness the launch of the music or watch them parade in the fashion in vogue. Folks could order whatever they want through the internet or other alternative means available.

One thing I have noticed missing or have not seen in a while is the deportation of the Ghanaman, wow! I remember one guy who was deported from the states when I was growing up. Nobody saw him arrive, he came home under the cover of darkness and stayed indoors for a while until he decided to come out from his comfort zone. I could tell how embarrassing and heartbreaking it was for him with regards to his aspirations, dreams and any other things that motivated him to embark on the journey in the first place coming to an abrupt naught.

Do you remember ashibri shibri kontomire Am sure, you do and that one too is gone with the wind, can’t even be retrieved from the recycle bin. That was how their accent were perceived to have sounded because we hardly understood what they were saying and am sure some were also playing on our intelligence but now we all speak same and the difference is no more clear-cut. Thank God for advancement in technology.

And the perceived civilization is being bridged with alacrity. Every Ghanaian family can now boast of a family member in Ablotsi unlike some years back when only some members of our society were privileged to have travelled or have the privilege to go beyond the shores of Ghana. Just drive on our streets in the city and you will see imported goods, no I mean ‘deported’ goods being sold in every nook and cranny ranging from plates, chamber pots, mattress, underwear,  spoons, bicycles, cardboards and what have you. Is it not a joy when you see all these borla goods being sold in a ploy to bridge the gap between the Ghanaman and the people living in the Diaspora?

The days of communication centres cannot be overlooked because it also played a major role. A friend, Family or an acquaintance will have to notify you days, weeks or months ahead of an impending call which made you ready and waiting. Sometimes you see the whole family at the Comm. Centre waiting for the call of their kin and can you imagine the stampede that ensued when the call finally comes through? Your guess is as good as mine.  Sometimes, the receiver has to trek about two miles to the nearest Comm. Centre and it was all good. But now, your phone could be ringing and you are not bothered to even know who is calling because you know you will soon call back after what you were doing, impressive!

Who says we are not getting there? Apart from the information and news we read in the magazines, in the movies, in the newspapers  and on the internet,  we all have classmates, Kins and other members of society calling us on daily basis and we doing likewise and telling us stories about their experiences in the Diaspora. Some people even travel to and fro about twice in a week and you say wetin?

Do I hear this green paper stuff lately? Maybe blue paper is even making up for the green paper because everyone seems to be at ease once they travel out. Somehow they manage to get one and very soon, the Embassies will even be evacuated on our soil or be streamlined to only be a source of information centre where you could just go and seek for information.

Do you also remember when even family members travelled without your knowledge with the hindsight that a certain witch or wizard might just counter cross them and impede their travel? Well, I just got my Visa and should be travelling out soon; I just pray that when I get there, the weather should be favourable to me and as for the food, they have a lot of Ghanaian foods in the African markets more than we even have here in Ghana so I hope to fit in even before I land at the Airport so if you don’t see me around, I am gone to Ablotsi