The lights are off in my room. I lay in my bed with my duvet covering just my legs from the waist down. I am naked. Waist up, I have on my over sized dashiki. With my head on my arm, I type this text. The breeze in my room is just right. I…
Read MoreSet in Accra, Ghana – Zig Zag captures the story of a young artiste, Senior, caught in a web. He faces tough decisions where he must walk the road less taken or choose the obvious. His career as a saxophonist is on the line pending his final decision. Or is the decision really his to…
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Despair was very present. Mom just lay there – helpless. “Should we call in our resident priest sir?” said the nurse with what looked like pity in her eyes. “Who does this nurse think she is? Why does she allow pity creep through her soul, when she is just a mere witness to life’s unfair…
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Rolling off the tongue, A metamorphosed shtick of pleasure. In and out In and out – it moves with rigorous friction and pressure. A bitter sweet taste of everlasting serenity, Only drowned by the spittle seeping from the lip-side. One might groan and moan from the intense pleasure; Yet is steady as not to release…
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What happens at dawn? Do you not wonder? When sleep shifts from 5th to 3rd. Ignore the 4th For forth comes the lazy 2nd. Till you land on the 1st – gear of sleep The 1st person to wake. Mama Akos. The sound and strength of her short broom against the hard concrete floor. Like…
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Nonchalant became sorrow personified. My father’s eyes bore its presence. Screams churned into instructions. “Get out of this house! And take those little brats with you.” My mother bellowed. “I never want to see your faces again! Demons!” My sister couldn’t contain herself any longer. She broke out of my grip…
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Plastic girls in their plastic world Making men fume with their plastic chord Tis this fakery that binds them all Strangling and struggling In their plastic core Once upon a time, tis cliché When all but her innocence remained She found Picasso’s brush as it lay This – the beginning of a fuss and a…
Read MoreTurning and turning in the shaking trotro The mate cannot hear the passengers Coins fall apart; the polythene bag cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the driver. The blood-stained abuse is loosed, and everywhere The innocence of the driver’s mother is drowned; The insults lack conviction, while the worst of the passengers Are full…
Read MoreShe sits by the roadside – a mixture of calm and confusion. Madness becomes her. On her rock she sits, crossed- legged. Her clothes, a myriad of silhouettes. The light plays a number on her. A revelation here, skin there. Exposed? Yes! Barely? Yes! She sits on her rock smoking her cigarette – a mixture…
Read MoreAfter the game, the King and pawn go into the same box. (Italian proverb) Abena walked past the porridge seller right in front of the only Ecobank bank in the Dansoman area. You would think the loud thumping of Daddy Lumba’s Abin Woha seeping through the vulcanizing shop down the bank’s road would distract her.…
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