Closed to business?

I've so many things I want to write about and that's beginning to limit me as I don't know where to start...I was in Zambia recently and the whole trip can write me a book!

I think I'll start with the my most recent interesting experience right here in Ghana...

So yesterday, I was to meet some people at the Accra Mall. The plan was for me to use the ATM before we set out on our mission for the day - which was not centred around the mall.

I was surprised to encounter a plastic barrier at the Spintex road entrance. The security guard at post told me the mall opens at 9am for which reason I would not be allowed entry. I found this especially strange as I could see cars moving up and down within the mall. I mean, how did they get in?

I asked the security guard why this directive. I don't know what it was about me that made him act someways ( how else can I put this? Haha) towards me.

I suspect it had something to do with the car I was driving, the English I was speaking and my size....Who is this small girl who is feeling so cool riding ( I wasn't feeling cool o, I was just being me) her sugar daddy's car (I was driving my dad's car) and thinking she has a right to understand why she cannot be allowed to park.

Anyways, his answer to my question was that it was an order from above and he was only doing his work. All this while, I noticed he signaled any car that lined up behind me to use the motorway entrance. At a point in time, he shifted another of the barriers to allow another car inside. The whole thing was like he had something personal against me.

I asked why he was directing other cars to the other entrance and asked if it was open. He said he could not tell me whether or not it was open, but I could go check....which didn't make sense. I told him I needed a definite answer from him as that road was a one-way and encountering a closed gate might mean I'll have to take a longer route to get back to where I wanted to be. His attitude was very appalling...It was like he had meant me and wanted to teach me a lesson.

When I heard him speak Ewe to the occupants of the car he allowed in, I got down from my car, and gave him a nice lecture on humility in Ewe. On how he should not create impressions of people based on prejudice and what he sees and then go on and use that to decide how to respond to them. I told him this world is very small, and he has no idea where he'll meet me and need my help just as I have no idea where I'll meet him and need his help for which reason I'm being polite with him. I told him not to allow the English I speak cause him to feel intimidated and respond the way he did. He tried arguing that he never insulted me and I made it clear to him I never said he insulted me, but that his attitude towards me was just wrong. In the end, he apologised. I could see the pain in his eyes as he said he was sorry which to me was evidence that everything I said was true.

By this point, one of the people I was to meet, who had entered the mall through the other entrance walked down to the Spintex entrance and expressed surprise as the other gate was open to all cars.

We drove in through the other gate and one of the people I was going to meet, was parked inside the mall although I arrived at the mall about 20 minutes before her!

As we talked about this encounter, another security guard heard us and invited himself to be part of our conversation. He said the rule was to prevent people from using the mall car park as a car park....I'm tired of saying "this doesn't make sense" but it really  made no sense to me.

How would closing the Spintex road entrance and opening the motorway entrance stop people from parking their cars in the mall and going off elsewhere to carry out their business? When I said this kind of thinking was backwards, he took offence and said I'd insulted him...I explained to him that wasn't in reference to him, but to the givers of the directive.

To cut a long story short, I went into the mall building which to my surprise was open. If a mall has functioning ATMs which are accessible before 9am, why do you prevent access to the mall car park because the shops are not opening?

I remember Logical Reasoning was a topic taught as part of Core Maths in SSS....hehehe. I'm just saying.

We have a long way to go in this Ghana o. God have mercy on us!

End of story one :)

First Aid

Sometime in early August, I was called back to the office in the middle of conducting monitoring visits. Reason - I'd been selected to undergo first aid training at the West African Rescue Association.  I liked the idea and I must say I enjoyed the training. I came back feeling ready to save any life especially through CPR.
A little over two hours ago, on my way back from the same monitoring visits I'd been recalled from, somewhere before Nkonya in the Volta Region, there was this gentleman dressed in Electricity Company of Ghana overalls by the side of the road. He was furiously flagging down our car. We stopped. He was standing by an ECG truck. He managed to tell us that two of his colleagues had been electrocuted and will need assistance in being conveyed to the hospital.  The fact that their own company had turned the power on while they were working is worth mentioning.

I was scared. As he went to bring them, we began to make room in the car. I was seated alone behind. I was getting more scared.  I kept wondering if I was going to end up having to be in such close proximity with someone who's probably already dead. I however knew there was no way we could drive away because of fear. Earlier in the trip, we'd been stopped by a man who wanted a lift as part of his journey to Hohoe. We told him we were on official assignment and so couldn't offer him a ride. I felt so terrible as we drove off, but there was not much I could do about that.
This situation was however different. It'll take the devil himself to drive away from such a situation with the excuse of being on official assignment.

The first of the victims was responsive as I could tell he was aware of his surroundings. The second, was unresponsive. As the guy struggled to get the second unresponsive victim into our car, I knew his chances of making it alive to the hospital were dwindling. I asked him to put the guy down on the ground and I jumped out to start giving chest compressions. I hadn't even thought about the fact that I'd have to give mouth to mouth resuscitation to someone I didn't know. By the time I was nearing 30 compressions,  another gentleman was by my side whom I think was part of the ECG team. I instructed him on how to do the mouth to mouth which he did. I continued with the compressions but I was getting scared and I felt my compressions were not strong enough although I noticed a little responsiveness as the compressions went on. I showed my boss how to do it and handed over to him as I reached for my first aid handbook from my bag, flipping through to see if there was any other thing I should be doing.
By this point, I was a bit in shock myself at this unexpected situation. I flipped through so many times but couldn't figure out what I was looking for.
I rushed back to continue CPR when I noticed he'd been left unattended for a second. I was praying,  compressing,  giving instructions and confused all at once! An empty taxi turned up by this time and the people who'd turned up at the scene all felt we should be transporting him to the hospital. I asked if they were sure he was breathing and the guy giving the mouth to mouth was certain of that. I, because of fear didn't want to to look too closely at the one I was trying to save. I didn't want to find out if he was dead or alive. I felt the best option was to go on with the CPR until he came around fully but I also wanted him to be with the experts within the shortest possible time as I knew there was nothing like an ambulance going to turn up with paramedics. I advised the men to continue attempting CPR in the taxi though it wouldn't be as effective. They sped off to the hospital and we continued our journey.

The first victim had already been sent to the hospital while we were attending to the second.
When we got to a filling station to top up,  a taxi driver approached to ask "what happened to the other guy?"
Apparently, he was the one who transported the first victim.
I kept praying for this guy through the journey till I was confident God had heard and would answer.
I didn't take anybody's contact because I didn't want to hear bad news.... I must confess. I would rather work on the assumption that he made it than face the opposite fact.

We'd planned to set off on our journey at 6am, we ended up leaving around 6:30am. We made an unplanned stop over in one of our intervention communities as well. I've been asking myself if it was all part of a divine plan for us to be at that spot at the time we were because one minute could have made a difference in us missing the guy who flagged us down.

After this experience,  I came out with three resolves:
1. I'm going to make sure my company gets an AED as part of our first aid kit. I'll also look into getting one for personal first aid use.
2. I'm going to work on keeping fit so I wouldn't need a stronger person to assist me if I have to do CPR
3. I'm going to advice all I know to learn the basics of first aid

This experience has shown me how fickle this life is. One minute, you're here going about life. The next, you're treading that thin line between life and death...... Another reminder to live each day as if it were my last. Another reminder that this life I live here is just the dress rehearsal for the real deal - ETERNITY. The big question is, are you reading this, ready for eternity?

Disbelieving faith?

This is going to be short....I still don't know how to title it yet. Hopefully a title will come to mind by the time I'm done writing.
So I was just listening (yes, listening) to the book of Acts as I worked (multitasking is my thing ;P ) Acts 12 caught my attention. That's the chapter where King Herod Agrippa began to persecute believers in Christ....So our very own Peter was caught and thrown in prison...
Acts 12:5 says "But while Peter was in prison, the church prayed very earnestly for him."
I am certain they were praying for his release...
Now, let's jump to verse 15...
What was the reaction of the people who were earnestly praying for Peter's release when Rhoda opened the door, saw Peter, closed it in his face and excitedly ran back to tell the church that their prayer had been answered?

"You're out of your mind!"

They concluded she was crazy.
Now, Rhoda knew what she'd seen and she wasn't going to be convinced that she was crazy (some people can make you doubt what you know to be true and I believe the church could have easily had some of us...)
Anyways, so Rhoda wasn't going to have her mind toyed with so she insisted. And what was the church's reaction to her insistence?
Rhoda was no longer out of her mind. They now believed...but,
"It must be his [Peter's] angel"
Now, I don't know if that meant they assumed Peter dead and had taken the form of an angel...All I know is, they were certain it was not Peter in the human form standing at the door....and this is what got me.
How many times have I not been like the church which was earnestly praying for Peter?
How many times have I not earnestly prayed to God on a subject, have Him answer me and then express profound surprise at the result I'd been praying for? It's not as if I do not have the faith required to see my prayer answered.
It is more like surprise at having God answer a faith based prayer. Sometimes, it's got to do with the speed with which God answers. Other times, it's as if I was just praying out of duty and was not expecting God to answer (which is is not the case) in the way in which He did answer.
Anyways, got to go back to work.
Just some running commentary on what was going through my ears :) ... and a good way to update my blog :)

Sobering Reminder

I don't know why I feel like it's morally wrong to be posting part 5 of the story seeing as we're in a state of mourning here in Ghana. Mourning the lives of scores of people who began the week having not the faintest idea they were going to end up not just dead, but burnt beyond recognition....
This is a reminder to me that this life we live is but a vapor. Here today, gone tomorrow.....
A reminder to live each day as if it were my last. A reminder to not hold grudges. A reminder to not keep putting off what I know needs to be done because a time will come when my maker will call me home....And I might end up in the wrong home if I lose sight of the fact that home could be eternal life or eternal damnation....sobering but important reminder these few days have been.
Even as those of us who count ourselves lucky go on and on about how God saved and delivered us from the floods or whatever form of death could have had us mute by now, I find myself asking myself this - Are we implying by our gratitude for life that those who died did something wrong? And what about those of them who have been called to eternal life? Why do we always look at death from the lens of negativity?...It's a question I've asked myself many times. I guess I'm rambling now. I'll just end it here... 

Every disadvantage has an advantage...or so they say..

Ok, so sometime last week, I saw an email from the Commonwealth writers in my inbox and my heartbeat rate quadrupled. I knew it had something to do with the short story I'd entered into their 2015 competition. I wasn't really expecting to go far when I entered it, but I was still bummed to see the words "We regret that your story has not been successful on this occasion..."
Anyways, I've been thinking, and I think I'm going to self publish that particular short story. That might just be what will get me to get started on the sequel seeing as I've not written a single sentence since I entered the story in November last year....To whet your appetites, I'm going to post the first few paragraphs (or more appropriately, pages) as my next post to see if anyone will be interested enough to want to read on.
I'm really hoping everyone reading will be excited enough to buy the book when I share the link....No worries, it will be very affordable ;)
Oh, and please note this is a totally random post. I had no plans to put up a post today neither did I have any plans to share part of the story when I started this post. That idea popped up as I typed :D
Let's pray I don't change my mind!

on being nappy haired

A few days ago, I walked into a certain high commission's offices to submit a visa application. The receptionist took my passport, looked at my data page, raised her head up to look me in the face and this (to the best of my recollection) was what ensued:

Receptionist (R): Is that your own hair? (pointing to my picture in the passport)
Me: Yes
R: Are you sure?
Me: Yes.
R: You looked nicer like this (pointing to my picture in the passport) than now.
I must say at this point that now was me in a natural haired pony.
I only smiled and willed her to go on with the reason why I was standing in front of her. She got the hint and got on with her job - which was to review my documents ( why does that have to be the job of the receptionist though?) but it seemed like my present looks were haunting her and she couldn't hold it in any more. So the dialogue restarted.

R: I'm sure other people have told you same.
Me: Told me what?
R: That you looked nicer with your hair like this ( referring to picture in passport)
Me: No, no one has. ( I still managed to have a genuine smile on my face)
R: Why? Have you gone to join some church? (implying that I was wearing my hair in it's natural state as a result of religious compulsion)
Me: No I haven't.

This was when she resolved to get back to her work.
When all was said and done, she handed my documents back to me and repeated something along the lines of
"You looked nicer with your hair permed"
I replied "I wish I had the time to show you all the pictures of  me in my natural hair for you to decide yourself", thanked her and walked away.

The  week before this encounter, I had another natural hair dilemma. I was to be a bridesmaid for a very dear friend. When she told me that she wanted us (the bridesmaids) to wear a certain kind of hair weave, I told her NOTHING was going to make me wear a weave and that I intend to wear my hair natural. She accepted my decision. My interaction with one of the other bridesmaids however confirmed my suspicion - that they were all worried I was going to "spoil" the day with my hair. No,  she didn't say this in plain words but she was making snide remarks like "Madam NATURAL Hair" "So what are we going to do to our NATURAL Hair for the wedding?"

All this just made me ask myself - when are we going to accept ourselves as we were made? I have said it and I'll say it again, that  I have no issues with perming one's hair or wearing weaves. I wore my hair in perms for 5 years and I've worn weaves a few times and will wear if I FEEL LIKE wearing. That means I'm not a natural hair nazi. But when I have permed hair and weave nazis acting all superior, then I feel like tutoring them on self acceptance. I do not need straight hair to look and feel beautiful!!!!
In fact, I'm going to attach a picture of me in my natural hair to this post :p ...make that 2!

Anyone who thinks I'm not beautiful enough wearing my  natural hair can go burn the Atlantic for all I care :p

Devoted things...

I know anyone who's looking forward to a post from me will be expecting me to finish "Bill's Story" and get it done and over with...sorry to disappoint.
Sometime in December last year, I was having my quiet time and I decided to share my journal post for that day. After typing it up, I changed my mind. I just came across it this morning and I feel like sharing it so here goes :)

This post is me sharing my quiet time. I’m using the 2014 Our Daily Bread. I  was reading today’s Bible reading which was taken from Joshua 7:1-13 and before I got to the end of the reading, I knew I had to share my thoughts on it.

As I read, I asked myself, “what are the devoted things?” since they are what caused the Lord to be very angry with the Israelites. I didn’t really stop to research around what they consisted of, but when I got to  verse 4, a light bulb went off in my head, and I started to relate some things in my life as being equal to taking stuff which should have been devoted to God and turning around just like the Israelites did when things went wrong as a result of this to ask God “why?”.

 How many times have we not as Christians gone before God to ask him “Why?” just like Joshua did? He went before God, and asked him “Why?”.  I mean, God is sovereign. He knows everything and Joshua just didn’t get it! Why will this sovereign God allow his people to be defeated and to run away from their enemies? I cannot even begin to recount the number of times I’ve asked God “Why?” questions. My journal will be a testimony to that fact...but reading this today, I realised that just like the Israelites, I took stuff I should have devoted to God, made them mine and when things weren’t going as planned, I began to question God.

Sin is not only about the big things. Sin also consists of me refusing to completely hand over the reins to God. Choosing what I devote to him and what I do all by myself without his involvement....and choosing to bring him in later.

God’s reply to Joshua is so telling! He said they have devoted themselves to destruction! I don’t know if it was a play on words, but it’s poignant to note that taking God’s devoted things amounts to devoting myself for destruction. When instead of devoting my time to loving my Heavenly Father, I devote it to pleasing myself, I am devoting myself for destruction. I know it sounds so basic, but there is so much truth behind those words. The solution was for the Israelites to take away the devoted things from amongst them. God said they could not face their enemies until they did that. Father, my prayer is for your Holy Spirit to open my eyes to the things in my life that make it impossible for me to face the enemy so that I can take them away.

Forgiveness

This is an apology from the depths of my heart to everyone who's been waiting on me to finish Bill's Story.

Life got busy as usual. But in the midst of it all, I managed to convince myself to enter a story into a short story competition which closes tomorrow!

As I type, I'm yet to enter the story I've spent time writing over the last few weeks. The logical side of me is telling me there's no way I'll so much as get shortlisted. But there's this "you never know" side which is what is going to get me to upload that story and hit the enter button.

I let in on this because I know it'll help in the forgiveness process.

I sign out of this post knowing I've been forgiven.

Thanks Guys :)

Bill's Story 7.5

Let's call this "Bill's Story 7.5, not 8 as it is shorter than usual. I figured posting whatever I have written is better than waiting for it to get longer. I hope I wasn't wrong.

And pleaaaasssse I want feedback! I need to know if I'm boring you to death or not. I don't want niceties...just facts and constructive criticism. I know you're reading cos I check my hits :)

“What do you mean by “knowing Berth”?

“Oh, she was my roommate back in uni.”

I looked at her with disbelief, wondering whether or not to believe her. She had this look on her face. It was halfway between mischief and excitement. Before I could find the right words to express my surprise, she went on,

“I’d always pictured the woman you intended to marry as a church girl. But no, I was wrong!” Who would have thought Berth would make the cut for you who thinks kissing someone who’s not your girlfriend is a crime?”

“What are you going on about Amy? You’re not making sense to me.” My understanding of her words was that Berth had a side I didn’t know about.

She rolled her eyes and only said, “Bill, not wanting to believe what you’re hearing is not the same as not understanding it.”

“Ok, so are you saying that my Berth has a side I don’t know about?”

She only clapped and gave me a thumbs up. I was curious to know what more she had to say, but I only heard myself say,

“We’ve all got history. What’s more important is what we are now - the present. Now, do you want me to finish that massage or what?” I didn’t know why, but I was beginning to get angry. I sat on the bed, and not being one to give up, she placed her feet on me and said, “Yes please. I need it.”

I continued from where I left off in silence, thinking about whatever it was Berth had in her history books.

“Look Bill,” she broke the silence. “I’m not saying Berth has done anything in particular. For all I know, she’s born again.”

“What at all did she do that makes you sound like she is not the same person you knew? How long have you known me to even be in a position to be judging me and my girlfriend?” I pushed her legs off me and got up so I could glare down at her as I asked.

Her mouth dropped open at my outburst.

“How did I judge you?”

“You judged me by assuming my Berth has a past I know nothing about.”

“But you were the same person who said we’ve all got history a few minutes ago, Bill.”

“And how does that prove that I don’t know about whatever it is that Berth has done in the past?” I countered.

“Bill dear,” she got up, walked to me, cupped my face in her palms and continued, “You know deep down that you want to know what I know about Berth. The truth hurts. Are you really ready to know?”

I pushed her hands off my face “I asked what makes you think I do not know whatever it is that you know about her? I didn’t ask you to tell me anything.” I felt I had to stand up for my woman.

“I do not think Bill, I know that you do not know. You wouldn’t be with her if you did.”

She found her shoes, angrily wore them, reached for her bag and without a backward glance at me, stepped out. I was fuming at this point.

I reached for my phone and called Kwadwo. His groggy voice reminded me I was 5 hours behind Ghana.

“Sorry for disturbing your sleep, but we need to talk.”

"What is it mate?" I mentally pictured him sitting up as he sensed the urgency in my voice.

Bill's Story 7

Looks like I had a relapse....lol But thank God for recovery. Life got extra busy after my last post, but I managed to make time to continue with the story. Apologies for keeping you waiting....and please don't give up on me :) I promise to get better at writing and posting regularly.

“I don’t know what it is you’ve been inhaling since your arrival, but you definitely are hallucinating”

So, the logical explanation to this was that I was the one hallucinating huh?

“What do you mean by that? I’ve given you my timeline. How does hallucination play into this?”

I was looking at her waiting for an answer. I think something I said gave her an idea because she jumped to her feet, and raised her hands to her puckered lips, signalling me to keep quiet.

 “For starters,” she began, “You mentioned that you’d been asleep for 30 minutes. I think you should make that 24 hours and 30 minutes because today is Monday!”

She asked for my phone and showed me the time. It really was Monday.

I let out a sigh of relief, reached for the desk chair and sat down shaking my head, surprised at what I’d just put myself through.

“Is it medically possible to sleep for 24 continuous hours?”

“You mean 24 hours and 30 minutes?” She asked with cocked eyebrows. “Even if it wasn’t, you’ve just proven it is.”

She got up from the bed and walked towards me, beckoning with her index finger. “Now, get up and give me that hug. You can’t say you are not excited to see me.”

Truth was, I did not even know how I felt about her presence. I had a foreboding about it.  I still walked into her open arms and gave her a hug.

“So, tell me what you are doing here. Where is Ralph?” I sat on the bed and she sat by me.

Instead of answering me, she scooted away from me, propped the pillow against the wall, leaned against it and said,

“My legs are killing me. Mr. Daniels did not try at all! Aaaba!”

I didn’t see the connection between my question and her statement. I did not even see the connection between her two statements!

“What has Mr. Daniels got to do with your legs Amy? And how does that answer my questions about why you’re here instead of Ralph?”

If she heard me, then she showed no sign she did. She lifted her feet off the floor, placed them on my thighs and with a dramatic wince, requested of me,

“Bill dear, could you please massage my feet for me? They are killing me.”

I wanted to protest, but it looked like such a harmless request and she seemed to be in genuine pain. I only wondered how she managed to walk in with no limp in those 6 inches if her feet were really killing her as badly as her pained face implied. I figured some things could only be understood by women.

I felt obliged to apologise for my poor massaging skills before I even touched her feet.

“I’m really sorry for the torture I’m about to subject your feet to in the name of a massage.”

She cooed at my touch, “oooo, this torture is going to be heavenly”.

I laughed not because I found it funny, but because I was beginning to feel tense and I had to find a way of letting it out. I felt I really should not be doing this. The “ooo” and “aaaa” sounds she was making with each stroke of my fingers was disconcerting. Sending my mind places I’d rather not have it go. On remembering I had some deep heat in my bag, I began to gently set her feet aside to go for it.

“Are you done already?” She did not hide her surprise. Her eyeballs looked like they were going to fall out of their sockets.

“No, I’m just picking something to help me in my job as a masseuse.”

“Alright then.” She lifted her feet off herself. I noticed there was no wince of pain this time.

“My massage seems to have already started working”, I teased as I headed towards the wardrobe to search for what I needed from my bag. I heard my phone ring as I searched. It was Berth’s ringtone. I stopped searching and turned around to go answer it but Amy had already picked the phone from the bed and was just staring at the screen, I figured she was “admiring” Berth’s picture. She didn’t notice me at the foot of the bed waiting for her to hand over the phone to me. With her eyes still fixed on the screen, she called out a little too loudly,

“Bill! Berth is calling!”

“Stop screaming Amy, I’m right here.”, I whispered to prove to her she really was screaming.

“Oh, my bad.”

 She seemed to have taken offence. She handed the phone which had stopped ringing by this time to me and made her way to the bathroom. I knew it was an attempt to give me privacy to talk. This time, she walked with an exaggerated limp with each step accompanied with a groan. I waited for Berth to call back and was greeted with,

“What took you so long to answer? I was beginning to get worried,”

There was no way I was going to answer that question. I replied with my own question,

“Why are you now calling? I was beginning to get worried too but didn’t have enough credit to call you!”

“Well, you asked me not to waste my credit calling because you were going to get a call card and call me from the hotel landline. Have you forgotten already? Ei, who have you used up all the credit on?” I knew she was only joking so I only laughed in reply.

“Well, the MTN lady has just given me my warning! Can you imagine I bought 5 cedis worth of credit and i’m being told this after less than 2 minutes of talking? She didn’t wait for me to respond. I’m going to ta-“

The line went off and I knew her credits had run out. I called her back.

“Ei, I thought you said you did not have enough credit to call me Bill”

Oh no! What was i supposed to say to this? Fact is I had credit but did not call her earlier as promised because I had company, but I knew better than to tell her that.

“I’ve some credit on my phone. I was going to use the call card so we could talk for long. I only called back to let you know I’m in a short meeting with my colleague going through our presentation for tomorrow and I’ll call back after that.”

“Oh, that’s fine then. I was going to ask if Ralph was able to make it. Let’s talk later then. Love you”

“Same here”, I replied. “Let’s talk later.”

As if on cue that I was done talking, Amy stepped out, took her position on the bed and said,

“Next time, feel free to reply “I love you too” in my presence. Knowing Berth, she’s going to pick up on why you said “same here” instead of that.”

I was confused. What did she mean by "knowing Berth?" Where did she know her from?

Bill's Story - 6

Looks like I'm winning this battle against "writing laziness". Here goes part 6...and please don't get tired. It'll soon be brought to an end ;)

For a recap, click on the links below

Bill's Story - 1

Bill's Story - 2

Bill's Story - 3

Bill's story - 4

Bill's Story - 5

I had an uneventful journey. Uneventful in the sense that for once in my air travel history, I did not find myself seated by a chatterbox who would not shut up for a second or a weirdo who repeats every single action I make. Prior to the trip, I helped Berth move her stuff to her end before she dropped me off at the airport. She was being uncharacteristically emotional about the whole moving out and my travelling thing, I almost asked her why she was doing it if she didn’t want to do it. I stopped myself because I knew it was only going to result in a lengthy talk about “this situation” in which she’s found herself. I let it pass.

I’d checked in, ordered my lunch through room service and was ready to sleep my jet lag off by 5pm after I’d called Berth to let her know I’d arrived safely. The meeting was planned to start on Tuesday. Enough time for me to get over this trans-atlantic flight. I jumped into bed ready to catch up on my missed hours of sleep.

I was woken up by a knock on the door. I groggily reached for my wristwatch from beside my pillow to check the time. It was 5:30pm. “That’s not possible”, I muttered to myself as I dragged myself towards the door, making a mental note to have the battery changed.

“Who’s there?” I looked through the peephole but only saw a mass of dark hair. Whoever it was had her back facing the door. She most likely thought she was knocking on the right door and was just waiting to be let in. I considered ignoring the knock and heading back to bed because I was expecting no visitors. I had not even informed my Yankee friends I was coming to town, and none of the people I know lived in Seattle. I went ahead and cracked the door open and the neck bearing the mass of dark hair turned around with a smile, waiting for me to let her in. I blinked and screamed my heart out.

“Noooooo!!!!” This could not be! I slammed the door shut and backed away from it. The knocks started again. This time, accompanied with mentions of my name.

“Bill, Bill, Bill?”

I remained silent, seated on my bed and staring at the door in disbelief.

 “Bill, are you not going to let me in?”

“Go away. I do not communicate with the dead.”

 I had heard so many stories of the dead appearing to people who were not yet aware of their passing. I had never for a second stopped to think if these stories were true or not. No one told me she was dead. That was just an assumption I was making. But going by all logic, that had to be the only explanation for how she could turn up in front of my hotel room when she was supposed to be in Ghana. How did she even know the hotel I was to be lodging in and my room number? She must be a ghost.

She snorted with laughter.

“Okay, Bill, I was looking forward to your surprise at seeing me turn up at your door, but I was not expecting this!”

I was not going to communicate with a dead person. No way. I remained silent.

“It’s been one long flight. I’m heading over to my room to rest. I’m in room 27, up on the next floor. See you later.”

I did not hear her retreating footsteps so I knew she was still waiting to see if I would change my mind. I remained silent and seated on the bed, still staring at the door when I sensed she’d turned to leave. That was when I called for her to wait while I tentatively headed to the door. My heart was racing with every step I took, and I didn’t know I’d been shaking until I touched the door knob. When I opened it, she looked straight into my eyes and asked with flames darting from her eyes,

“Do I look like a ghost?”

I was very confused. She did not look like a ghost. I did not even know what ghosts are supposed to look like.

“No”, I said with a vigorous shake of my head.

“So what was all that about?” The anger in her eyes gave way to concern. I was still rooted in position. She reached out for the door, opening it wider and making enough room for her to let herself in.

I closed the door, turned and watched her drop her handbag on the desk, kick off her shoes and make herself comfortable on my bed. All this while, she held my gaze, waiting for an answer.

“I’m confused.”

“Why?”

“I am confused because you’re not supposed to be here. I am confused because I only got in a few hours ago, had a late lunch and fell asleep for about thirty minutes and here you are in front of me when I know very well you were in Ghana when I was leaving. And you don’t expect me to be confused?” I was incredulous!

She only laughed, patted a spot by her side on the bed and beckoned for me to come take a seat. I shook my head and opted for the desk chair which only made her laugh harder.

“So now, I’m a ghost and you’re afraid to sit by me. I’m not a ghost.”

She got up and did a twirl as if that was to disprove her being a ghost. Whatever fears I'd had of her being a ghost had subsided at this point. I knew there had to be a logical explanation for this.

Bill's Story - 5

Ok, so I know I started this story way back in 2012 but I'm just not ready to let it die and become a story I started but never ended. So, as part of my repentance as a lazy writer, I made time to continue with it. Unlike me, I'm very sure it'll be hard for anyone to still remember what the whole story was about in the first place so I'm going to put up links to the first four parts before I continue. And oh, I did realise some mistakes while re-reading the older parts...When I initially started the story, Bill wasn't called Bill. He was called Jay. Please don't ask the reasoning behind the choice and change of names because I truly have no reason. Anyways, I came across a number of Jays in the first two parts I think. I'll be changing them though but if you read before the change happens, don't be too confused. Just take it as his second name ;)

Bill's Story - Part 1

Bill's Story - Part 2

Bill's Story - Part 4

Bill's Story - Part 4

It was already Friday. Saturday was virtually here! Marianne had sorted out all our travel issues. Both Ralph and I did not need visas. I, because of my dual citizenship and Ralph, because he had just returned from studying in the States and still had a valid visa. I however had to leave a day earlier than Ralph because he had some personal issues to attend to before travelling. I passed by his work station on my way out at the close of the day.

“Ralph, see you in Seattle on Monday. Marianne just told me you’re on a different travel itinerary because you have some things to sort out before travelling.”

“Yes o my guy. Charlie, my kid sis dey come do engagement this Saturday wey I for wait den take my “akunta sika” before I leave. The way I take good care of am for e husband, I for wait then take my money myself.”

I found what he was saying funny but he had this all too serious look on his face which stopped me from bursting into laughter. I had to agree with him.

“Charlie, what you talk be true. E be very important say you take the money yourself. Anyways, we go crush when you drop. Make sure you take the hotel details and ticket from Marianne before setting off.”

I patted him on the back and turned to head out the door when I remembered I had not informed Amy of my trip. I wasn’t obliged to, but I felt common courtesy required that of me. True friends had to keep each other in the know of things like this right? I dragged myself back to her work station and heaved a sigh of relief when I was met with an empty desk. I picked a bright pink sticky note and pen from the table and left a message on her monitor. That will surely get her attention.

Hi Amy, I stopped by to let you know I’ll be out of the office for two weeks with Ralph. Bill.

That was all I wrote. I didn’t see the need to give her any more information than that. I called out to Ralph on my way past his work station the second time,

“Don’t forget to have a look through the presentations I sent to you. I’ll really appreciate your comments and input on how to make it more interesting.”

“Make you no worry my guy. I go search time do that give you.”

I just hope you don’t make any insertions and comments in pidgin.

Now, I wasn’t sure if what was supposed to be said in my mind came out loud. I panicked at the thought that he’d heard me, and laughed at my paranoia.

“E go dey your mail inside by Sunday gbeke”

Now, I knew he hadn’t heard me. He wouldn’t have continued in pidgin if he had heard me. Would he? Ah well. There are better things to wrap my head around than this. I picked up my ticket and hotel details up from Marianne on my way to Mr. Daniels office to say goodbye. He was on the phone when I went in. I’d braced myself for a minimum of 30 minutes wait, and was surprised when he ended the call and decided to give me a brief lecture on how to go about representing him well. I was grateful for the coaching though.

Berth was all dressed up looking like she was waiting for someone to pick her up for an outing when I got home. I could not hide my surprise. She was in this floral print strapless dress that flowed from her waist to her ankle. She had on no jewelry save for a pair of tiny gold studs in her ears. The only hint of make-up I caught on her face was clear lip gloss but she looked stunning! The sight of her made me feel weak in my knees. I don’t know why I still feel that way after all these years. It has been three good years since I first set sight on her and felt the very same weakness I was feeling in my knees on that day. Up until that point, I wasn’t a believer in love at first sight. It took Berth to convert me.

“What’s up? Where are you going?”

“Where are we going?” She corrected me with emphasis on the “We”.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” The twinkle in her eye as she said this was unmistakable. “Hurry up and change into something more casual.”

I was tired and had really been looking forward to rest, but whatever plans she had for the evening had got her on a high. I wasn’t ready to burst her bubble, plus I knew I was going to miss her for the next two weeks. I was out in less than 5 minutes after I changed into the first pair of jeans and polo shirt my hands touched in the dark of my wardrobe.

She opted to drive us in my car. When I was seated she turned to me, a mischievous grin slowly spreading across her face.

“You have two options. I either blindfold you till we get to where we are going, or you promise to keep your eyes closed from now until we get there.”

I opted for the latter. All I had to do was rest my head against the headrest and take a power nap. I explained that much to her – that I would use the opportunity to take a nap that will make me a very fun companion for the night. She didn’t seem bothered by that. She had her jazz to listen to.

I jolted out of my sleep screaming “Jesus Jesus” when the car screeched to a halt. My screams for divine intervention were met with laughter from Berth. It took a few seconds for me to realise that was how she’d planned to wake me up from my nap and that all was safe. I looked around but could not make out where we were. It looked as if we had just driven into the centre of a movie set up on a Caribbean island!

“Where are we?”

She just looked at me with a knowing smile and said, "It takes a few minutes to take it all in.”

That did not answer my question. But I nodded in earnest agreement.

“This is out of this world.”

I could hear the sound of music from a distance and could smell khebabs on fire though I hadn’t seen any other human since we’d arrived. We stepped out of the car. Berth took off her slippers, holding them in her left hand while wrapping her free arm around my waist. We walked towards the ocean and sat in the sand to watch the sunset. She picked her phone from her dress pocket and turned it off. I also picked mine to do same. I noticed I’d received a message from an unknown number but decided to not ruin the lovely moment with the love of my life. I turned it off and placed it back in my pocket. She rested her head against my shoulder and I reached for her hands.  We were both content to just sit in the silence and watch the sun in all its splendor take a bow down the horizon. Except for the occasional sound of music that was carried towards us by the winds, the only other sound I could hear was the roar of the Atlantic and of the waves crashing against the rocky sections of the beach. I turned to kiss her just as the space which was filled with the bright orange sun was now nothing but clouds that still had orange hues race across the sky. I swear I would have gone on kissing her till daybreak had she not reluctantly broken it off and asked that we go have dinner. I turned to look around but could not sight any restaurant. She held my hand and walked me towards what appeared to be a forest of coconut trees to the right of where we had parked, giggling in excitement at my apparent daze in taking in how the evening had turned out.

Nestled in the middle of the forest of coconut trees was this cozy restaurant with an ambience which cannot be explained. It can only be felt. We made our meal selections – I went for banku and spicy grilled tilapia with green pepper sauce. That was what the menu said. It was just “kpakposhito” which must have been ground in heaven because I’ve never had hot pepper that tasted so heavenly with banku and tilapia. She opted for Rice and beef sauce which she swore was nicer than my option even though she left half of it and joined me to eat the banku.

We took a walk along the moonlit beach before going back to the spot where we had been sitting before dinner and talked the night away. I did not want the night to end, but I knew full well I had to get ready for my trip the next day. Berth read my mind.

“We should be heading back. You need to rest before your trip.”

The ride back home was tranquil and silent. It was a comfortable silence. It wasn’t until I entered the bedroom that I was reminded of the fact that Berth was really moving out the next day. Her packed bags were lined at the foot of the bed. They seemed to be taunting me. Telling me to hurry up and marry their owner If I didn’t want them out. I shook my head and said to them,

“Oh shut up! Would you?”

“Who are you talking to?” Berth was perplexed as she walked in and caught me speaking to myself.

“I was just silencing the voices in my head telling me that I’m going to lose you if I allow you to move out tomorrow.”

When did I get this good at fabricating on the spot lies that could go past any lie detector? This particular one was not actually too far fetched from the truth though. Was that not the implication of the conversation the bags and I were having?

“Sweetheart, thank you so much for tonight. Your spontaneity in coming up with such plans is the definition of romance.”

“Awww, I’m flattered. The smile of gratitude on her face warmed my heart. Thanks for not turning me down. I knew you were very tired coming back from work. But I also knew we had to do this. I just wanted to prove to you that my moving out is not because I do not love you. A woman’s got to do –“”

I did not let her end her statement. I walked towards her and cupped her face in my palms.

“I’m going to do what I have to do as a man. Do not worry yourself thinking about when. It’s going to be sooner than you think.”

I bent my head and planted a kiss on her forehead. She released herself from my embrace, mumbling an excuse of needing the washroom. I knew she was going to cry, but I did not stop her.  

I'm back!

Ok, so my last post was on the 23rd of November last year! What excuse can be given and accepted for this? Don't say none because excuses always abound. I would love to say I've not been lazy. That I've been so busy you wouldn't believe it if I told you. That my life has been a roller-coaster between my last story (not post) and now. All those are true. But who says you can't write while on a roller-coaster? Before anyone asks me if I've ever been on a roller-coaster, yes I have! And writing is not always about putting pen to paper or typing out on a computer. You can write in your head and pour it all out when the calm which lazy writers like myself are always looking for comes around. I think  No, I know I've just been plain lazy. And I would not give anyone the pleasure of telling me that to my face and having it hurt :p So i'll admit it so I can laugh at those who are unkind enough to agree with me :D
Of course there have been times when I'll start a post but lose interest by the end of the first sentence and never get around to posting it.Those are still there as drafts which I don't ever see myself finishing. I'd like to believe I have repented of my sins. I'm going to be serious from henceforth....but I'll perfectly understand your hesitance to trust me on this one. I'll just have to prove what I'm saying. Time will tell :)
I just think I've rediscovered my writing mojo. I just hope it sticks around for a longer while this time.

What do Indiscipline and Corruption have in common?

I just found this post which I'd been writing on 20th June 2014 in my drafts folder! I never finished it but I think it still makes for an interesting read.

Sometime in October last year, I was driving to work when I noticed a sticker behind the car ahead of me. It was at the Fiesta Royale traffic light on the N1. The light had turned red so I reached for my phone to capture what I thought was an interesting aphorism, but just before I could capture the shot, the driver changed lanes ;( . I cannot quote word for word what it said, but it was something along the lines of "I love my country. It's those in charge I have a problem with".
So he loves his country but has a problem with those in charge. That's not a big deal. But it got me thinking and I must say it made me more aware of how almost everyone in Ghana is always whining about our leaders. I believe in constructive criticism. The kind which puts aside political party affiliation and objectively states ones views on how things are not being done right and how they could be rightly done.

What I've come to notice in recent days in Ghana is this. Almost EVERYBODY has nothing good to say about those we have elected to govern us. You log in to any social media for a maximum of 5 minutes and you're sure to be greeted with a tweet or status update berating the government. Now, I'm not saying everyone must sing the praise of government even when things are not being done right. I just think we seem to forget that the people in authority over us are a reflection of the people they govern. Corrupt deals are exposed or the price of fuel goes up and you get everyone commenting and using distasteful language on those in authority. The most recent one I sighted was on Facebook earlier this week when one of my social media friends said "We are being governed by a bunch of fools". My heart bled when I read this. I was like, "really?" It took Grace to stop me from commenting on that status.
 And I wondered, where did these bunch of fools governing us appear from? Did those in authority who dabble in corrupt deals become corrupt upon assuming those positions?
I don't think so. We are a bunch of undisciplined people. I use the pronoun "we" not because I believe every single Ghanaian is undisciplined, but because majority of Ghanaians are undisciplined. If you need evidence of the indiscipline I'm talking about, take a walk or drive, depending on your location to the Tetteh Quarshie interchange. The section opposite the Villagio apartments. What do you find when you get there? What used to be greenery is now some sorry looking bits of grass competing with dry patches of land. Don't for a moment think the dry patches of land you're seeing has anything to do with the dry season. Rather, it has everything to do with Indiscipline both on the part of drivers and pedestrians. Crossing the N1 onto the motorway during the evening rush hour is any driver's worst nightmare. Instead of all of us staying in line and slowly inching towards our destinations, we have these group of drivers who decide to race along the green grass and the end result is...
ok i was just interrupted at work for some 45 minutes and the writing inspiration is gone. I'll save this and get back to it the next time it comes.

Hair and beauty

So I just spent over 30minutes writing a post only for my phone to ring and for me to lose everything I wrote!! I'm going to start afresh....
I'm at this salon getting my hair braided, and there's this toddler here crying my ears off. This post is being written not because I can't stand crying babies. It is being written because I cannot fathom why for the life of me a less than two years old baby will be subjected to such torture! How can a mother seat her baby on her laps and hear her cry from the pain of having her hair being braided?
I'm convinced this little girl is gong to grow up with a warped understanding of what true beauty is. She's most likely going to grow up thinking to look beautiful, she always has to cover her beautiful reddish brown kinky hair with fake hair. Her cries were so much tearing at my heart that I almost asked her mother why she was doing this to the girl. I stopped myself because I cannot speak twi well and knowing myself, I'll end up coming across as judgemental (which I am on this issue by the way :D)
I am braiding my hair because it is natural and knowing how busy I'm going to be in the next couple of weeks, I'm better of putting it in an easy to manage style. But this little girl here has short natural hair which only has to be trimmed in order for her mum to be able to pass a comb through it when it's messy.
The crying got unbearable to the point where one other customer in the shop advised the mother to breastfeed the baby to sleep so the braiding can continue. She heeded to the advice and the baby is asleep now, but the whole situation has awakened in me something! It's got me asking myself what is wrong with us women? When are we going to get to the point where we understand that true beauty is not about how you look on the outside, but is something inside that radiates on the outside.  Of course that doesn't mean I agree with women who go about looking like they're crazy all in the name of keeping their hair natural. They twist their hair and keep it for weeks on end, making them look like they were crazy for real. This post is not even about keeping the hair natural. I have no qualms at all with whichever way one wants to keep her hair so long as the person understands that beauty is from within and not about what she adorns herself with.
I think I'll end my post here before I digress. And next time,  I'll make sure to intermittently save as I write. O wow! Call it perfect timing.  The baby just woke up and is at it again! Mercy me.

Christianity or Fanaticism?

I've been wanting to write on this topic for a while now, but I kept holding back because I wasn't so sure it was a topic I should address seeing as I'm still a baby Christian. However, recent happenings here in Ghana have broken whatever it was that was holding me back, and I'm ready to speak up.

Before I go further, let's get some basic definitions right. I am one who's been taught to never quote Wikipedia in any academic write up... I have since then always found myself unconsciously looking down on any article in which Wikipedia is referenced, although that's always my first point of call on any subject matter! Ironic isn't it? Anyways, as a Christian, I decided to put up my own definition of Christianity.

What is Christianity?

Christianity is the belief that there is one God who came down to earth many many thousands of years ago in the form of man. This same God we Christians believe is a three in one God (The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit)....a concept that is difficult to understand if you want to use your human understanding to....So, God The Son came down to earth in the form of man, lived for some 33 years, and when the people of his time who had been awaiting the Messiah had had enough of him claiming to be the Messiah, they put him to death. Unknown to them, they were only playing a role in getting the prophecy around God The Son, "Jesus Christ" to come to pass....The prophecy was that He would be put to death, but would rise on the third day....Now, I wasn't there, and I can't say which side I would have belonged to... would I have believed that Christ was the long awaited Messiah? Or would I have been part of the crowd that was screaming "Crucify Him!"?

I don't have an answer to that....all I know now is, I believe this story....and that makes me a Christian. And I try my best to live by what the Bible says.

Ok, so now, what is Fanaticism? According to Wikipedia, "Fanaticism is a belief or behavior involving uncritical zeal, particularly for religious or political cause or in some cases, sports, or with an obsessive enthusiasm for a pastime or hobby." 

The same Wikipedia quotes one philosopher George Santayana as defining fanaticism to be "Redoubling your effort when you have forgotten your aim"

Disclaimer: Although I love this definition, I'd never heard of this philosopher until today :) 

So where am I going with this my long talk on Christianity and Fanaticism?

I'll go straight to the point here. Every Ghanaian who is on any social media, has a radio or a TV knows what's been going on in recent times regarding people flocking to the Synagogue Church of All Nations (SCOAN) which is headed by Prophet T.B. Joshua. As I said earlier, I am a baby Christian, so I'm in no position to say if this Prophet is true or false. The Bible I read says by their fruits you shall know them...the same Bible says in my name they shall cast out demons.....and he does cast out demons from what I see...The same Bible further says in Matthew 24:24-25 "For false christs and false prophets will rise and show great signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect. See, I have told you beforehand." These are Christ's own words!....

I just want to say I'm not out to say someone is real or not real. I just want to say that Christians are missing the whole point of what Christianity is about. We are missing the point so much so that our belief seems to be now rooted in things such as holy water, holy oil, anointed handkerchiefs. 

I'm yet to come across a story in the Bible where Jesus bottled and sold his miracle making potions....take for instance when he spat and mixed it with clay (or was it sand?) and used it to make that blind man see....Why didn't any of his disciples take up the initiative to bottle and sell it? Is it that they just didn't have the marketing orientation?

I was once dragged to a church service in London by my aunt...I don't remember the name of the church, but the pastor was called "Jesus Abrantie" I was disheartened when I saw people buying t-shirts anointed by the man of God for as much as 300pounds sterling! yea, you read me right! Give me that money and I'll get myself some Chanel purse ( I mean, a whole lady like me has not got one designer purse in her wardrobe!)...this shirt was supposed to be worn anytime the owner was in a difficult situation....one specific example i remembered was headache....

You can blame it on my Deeper Life upbringing, but I've never believed in such stuff...I believe in miracles, but I don't believe in " I've prayed over this so do this and you'll be healed, and you'll get visa, naaaa" we've got to be real!

I believe that If I have a problem, and I get down on my knees, and call on Jesus, He will come to my rescue. Let me also make it clear that I don't believe in living a reckless life and running to Jesus only in times of trouble. Being a Christian is an everyday walk. One day at a time. So when you live your life just any how, and you hear of a man of God who is distributing holy water somewhere,...even if it is God himself who asked him to do this, your going for that holy water is not what will save you....and this is where I like the definition of Fanaticism as "redoubling your effort when you have forgotten your aim"

Is Christianity about living like Jesus and believing that your own belief in Him is enough to save you, or is it about believing that water prayed over by a man of God is what you need to solve all your problems? Is the aim about being more like Jesus, or is it about miracles? When you redouble your efforts to get holy water by getting to the church venue at 8pm saturday when the service starts at 9am sunday, then surely, your aim is to get holy water....but should your aim be to get holy water, or to get to know Christ better? If it is to know Christ better, then trust me, you could have done that in the comfort of your bed!.

All you have to do is pick your Bible, ask God to through His Holy Spirit speak to you, and read it! It's as simple as that.

Anyways, I think this is enough for now....I hope I did not miss my aim of trying to get we Christians to take a step back from being fanatics who double our efforts in search of miracles, while missing the point of what Christianity really is about....i.e living like Christ.

Baby on Board

I was driving home yesterday on the Accra Tema Motorway. I think I should at this point clearly indicate that I don't drive like a woman. I'm the kind of girl who honks at the car doing 80kph ahead of me in the inner lane and keeps flashing my headlights into your rearview mirror until you move to the outer lane..well, at least that's what i used to do until my car developed this problem where it starts to vibrate and shake between 80 and 100kph...strangely, it doesn't do that when i hit 100!

So yesterday, whiles driving, I saw through my mirror this car coming at real top speed, so i changed lanes to give way. I was really surprised when i noticed it was a young lady driving the car.....and to add to that, there was this bright yellow "baby on board" sign hanging on her back windows!

This sign got me thinking...why would I want to let the whole world know there's a baby in my car? I really don't get it! Is it something all would be mothers except me look forward to?

I tried reading around the reasoning behind the sign, and what I found says "it is to encourage safe driving"!

Oh really? That lady was certainly doing over 100kph, and the limit on the motorway is 100!

I don't see anything safe in letting the whole literate world know that I have a baby in my car. It is even dangerous to me because you're probably making a baby thief's work easier! Telling him/her, "Oh, you've got a potential here"...

Well, I just felt like putting what I'd been thinking into words.... no offence to readers who cannot wait to hang their "baby on board" signs in their cars some day...feel free to put up a post on how it amazes you why anyone would drive around with a baby in their car without warning to other road users....I just might get it after reading that...But until then, I stand amazed!

It's March Already?

Wow! It's been five months since I last posted!....and already three months into the new year! There's no excuse for this...well, I've got loads of reasons and I could start typing away to explain my "laziness". But I'll spare anyone who cares to read the details....I figured I should just put up a post (even if it's just three lines) to help get me back into the writing and posting mood (the same one I found myself in about six months ago)....So, hopefully, I'll soon start writing and posting :). With this being my first post of 2013, let me wish anyone who finds him/herself reading this a happy new year....My new year resolution (which I JUST made) is to MAKE time to write instead of just WISHING i had time to write...So help me God!
Maybe I should mention at this point that I actually made some time to continue the story I was working on before I took my hiatus...I've read through it a number of times, but it's not impressed me and that could explain why it's yet to see the light of day on this blog...

Bill's Story - Part 4

So it's been over a month since I last posted...I have a good excuse...WORK! Anyway, thanks to those who kept asking "when are you going to post part 4?" I managed to make time to pen down something.   I hope it is worth the wait!...oh, and let me add this. I really do appreciate all your comments and constructive criticism, but could you pleaseeeee leave those comments as comments beneath the post instead of sending them through Whatsapp and so on? ;)  A kiss for every comment that comes through here :* 

I was seated at my desk catching up on happenings around the world when my Chief Executive Officer called for me. It was rare for him to ask to see anyone in person. Being such an impersonal man, the telephone was his best mode of communication. His secretary, Marianne, was on the phone when I entered. With the phone wedged between her shoulder and neck, she signalled me to go ahead in.

He was at his desk, furiously typing away at his keyboard. He offered me a seat, his eyes still fixed on his monitor. I greeted and took the seat. It took him well over ten minutes to respond to my greeting. All I did during that time was stare at my fingers, regretting that I had not carried my phone along. I had the option of paying more attention to the pictures hanging on his wall. But who would want to stare at pictures of his boss speaking into different colours of microphones at different events? He finally took his eyes off the screen, stretched his hand to shake me with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and went straight to the point.

“Mr. Mensah, I’ll need you to fill in for me next week at the Annual Architect’s Conference. You’ll have to present a paper on my behalf.” His huge voice belied his tiny structure. I always wondered how such sounds could emanate from a man his size.

“Wow”. That was all I could manage once I got my thoughts in check. This was not the time to be analysing his vocals.

“I know you are probably thinking this is above you, but trust me, I thought long and hard about it before deciding on you.” He went ahead, not giving me the chance to put my thoughts together to say something sensible.

“Jean, being the next in line should have been the one to go, but there is another equally important meeting around the same time.” He handed over a file to me. “This should help you prepare. Let me know if you need further clarification. You can leave now.”  He did not give me the chance to say anything. I thanked him for the opportunity and hurried out.

Marianne’s desk phone was ringing when I went past her desk. Seconds later, she ran after me. “Mr. Daniels wants to see you.”

This time around, he did not offer me a seat. “I forgot to mention that you will have to go along with one of the junior staff. The Human Resource Manager will have to decide which of them goes with you. Speak with him and let me know by tomorrow whom he decides on. That’ll be all”.

I made a beeline for the HR manager’s office. It took him less time to make his choice than it took me to explain why he had to make the choice.  “You’ll have to go with Ralph”, he announced. I heaved a sigh of relief. I’d been praying tongues in my head that he’ll not choose Amy. My prayers had worked! I headed back for my desk, and got so engrossed in getting myself ready for the trip I forgot to check on Berth until close of work. I called her before leaving the office.  From the look of things, I was very likely to meet her at home since she was now going to start packing. I figured I could try convincing her to reconsider her decision to move out. I stopped on my way home and got some pizza with a double serving of her favourite topping. We’ve been together for close to three years, but I was yet to wrap my head around how she could enjoy pizza with pineapple toppings all in the name of Hawaii.

I let myself in and placed the pizza on the dining table. She gave me a hug when she came out after I called out for her. Nothing looked amiss. I started nurturing hopes that she’ll inform me of a change of mind, but she didn’t. The look of delight on her face on sighting the pizza could not be missed. “Oh darling! You got my favourite!”

That got me a quick kiss on the lips. From what most guys tell me, the only things that could elicit such delight from their wives or girlfriends were usually presented in cute tiny boxes, not pizza boxes. I seem to have found a different kind of woman for myself. One that would show appreciation for the most mundane thing you got her!

She went on, “I had wanted to eat after packing, but you know I hate cold pizza.” She went ahead to open the box and took a bite.

“You can always heat it in the microwave later on,” I suggested, and regretted the words once they were out of my lips.

The next slice stopped midway to her mouth. “Do you want me out that fast?” She laughed before I realised she was teasing, but I still went on to let her know how I really felt. “Berth, you know I love you and would move heaven and earth to get you to stay.”

“Bill, we already talked about this, and I’m not backtracking.” She said it in such a gentle way, but the finality behind the words was unmistakable.

“Ok, whatever makes you happy dear.”

“Do you think I’m happy to find myself in this situation?”

I could tell she was slowly getting worked up. I had to diffuse the situation.

“No, I know you’re not happy, and I’m really sorry. But trust me, it won’t be long, I’ll get that smile back on your face.” I walked towards her and kissed her on the forehead. With my arms around her, I looked her straight in the eyes as I said, “I need one thing from you.”

“What could that be?” She enquired.

“Why don’t you stay till the weekend? It’s late tonight.”

She burst into a fit of laughter. “Nice try Bill!” She said between her laughter fits. “I agree it’s late, so I’ll leave tomorrow Wednesday.”

“I’m asking for you to stay till the weekend because I’ll be going to the States on Sunday for the Annual Architects’ Conference and -”

“And you’re now telling me?” She cut me short.

“I only found out this afternoon. Why would I keep this away from you?”

“Ok, that is a good enough excuse. I’ll stay till Sunday then.”

“Aren’t you a darling?” I gave her a hug and went for a quick shower.

The rest of the evening went well. We spent quality time together talking about anything that came to mind. When I asked what I should get her from the States, all she said was “Anything, dear”. I already knew what I was going to get her though. I couldn't wait for her to fall asleep so I could measure her ring finger. We both fell asleep on the couch in the living room, and it wasn't until sometime after 2am when I woke up to use the washroom that I woke her up and we moved to the bedroom. I did not forget to take my measurements before waking her up though.

Bill's story - part 3

I wrote this sometime last week,,,don't know why I'm now posting it!

I managed to make it to the office in one piece, and it wasn’t until I got there that I was reminded of the existence of a being called Amy. I caught a whiff of the perfume she’d been wearing yesterday immediately I entered the building. By the time I made it upstairs, it was as if the whole hallway had been sprinkled with a bottle of her fragrance. I pictured her getting into the building before anyone else to sprinkle the fragrance there just to torment me. I laughed at the mental picture I created of her doing it - Just like in the local movies where juju concoctions are sprinkled in the corners of a room using some sort of broom. I was still laughing when I stepped into my work station.

“Looks like someone had a goodnight!” Kwadwo observed as he made his way towards me. “Fill me in, man” He was already perched at the edge of my desk with an expectant look in his eyes. I noticed Amy from the corner of my eyes, and there was a battle going on in my mind as to the approach I was going to use to handle her. She showed no signs that she had seen me come in, but I swear I saw her ears perk up when Kwadwo asked me to fill him in.

 “I brought breakfast, are you interested?”, I lured him out to the kitchen.

“Where’s the breakfast?” he asked when he noticed I had nothing for him.

“Berth is moving out”, I announced. He forgot all about the breakfast.

“You must be kidding me! Did you cheat on her?” He dragged out a chair and sat down, his eyes fixed on me all the while.

“My guy, I did not say she broke up with me! I said she’s moving out.”

“But what’s the difference? Trust me, the probability of her moving back in is non-existent”, he sounded so sure of himself.

“Well, she promised to move back on condition that I marry her.”

“That is blackmail! She never came across to me as one capable of that.” He said this with a twinkle in his eyes. The earlier despondency in his eyes, which I believe was borne out of pity for me, was now turned into one of fascination. He was clearly fascinated with Berth’s move.

“It is not blackmail. She is just holding me up to my own words.”, I jumped to her defence even though I was angry with her. “I just have to put things in place and ask her to marry me.”

Our privacy was invaded by other colleagues who had to use the kitchen. On our way back to the office, I flippantly asked Kwadwo to remind me to tell him something later. Back at my desk, I figured an email to Amy will be in order.

“Hello Amy, I had wanted us to make time to talk about the happenings of last night, but on second thought, we’re better off not talking about it in person. As I told you yesterday, I’m going out with the woman I intend to marry, and no one can come between us - not even you. Don’t get me wrong, you’re hot and all that, but I’m sorry, I’m committed to someone else. The most I can offer you, is nothing more than true friendship.”

A few minutes after I had hit the send button, she walked up to my desk. I hadn’t read through the message before sending it, I had just been typing whatever came to my mind. The sight of her walking towards me caused my heart to beat faster. This surprised me because I could not tell if this was because of the message I had just sent, or because of something else I could feel but not explain. Maybe, this inexplicable feeling had more to do with my notoriety with being drawn to danger.

She offered herself a seat. “Goodmorning Mr. Mensah. Forgive my bad manners, I should have called to say thank you for yesterday. My supervisor looked through the designs, and he was very impressed with my input.” If she read my message before walking up to me, she showed no signs up until this point that she had. The perfume in which she had doused herself was too much for me. I let out a loud sneeze.

“I’m glad I was of help.” That was all I said back to her while reaching for my handkerchief to stop the next sneeze.

She made a show of walking back to her desk with her heels loudly clicking against the tiles, before returning to add, “I forgot to let you know I got your email. I didn’t reply because emails are not my thing. I just use them for official stuff – I like to discuss personal issues in person.” Her voice dropped to barely a whisper and then she said with a wink, “I’m willing to take you up on that true friendship offer though.”  She offered her hands, and our true friendship was sealed with a handshake.

I felt a sense of relief and trepidation wash over me when I let go of her hands. Relief from the fact that the encounter I had been dreading was over. The feeling of trepidation had more to do with the inexplicable feeling her presence and that handshake had caused. I knew for a fact it wasn't love. Heck!, it wasn't even like! It was one of those things you could never quite place a finger on no matter how hard you tried.