ummuabuuha

Ouch!  She hit her heard hard at the window when the driver applied the breaks.it is not my head but I won't laugh.  I have a very bad habit of laughing at people who sleep in class and on public transport,  I guess is my mechanism against sleeping as well. This time round the smile is not coming, even though she is sitting just next to me but i am even ready to lend her my shoulder. From what I see in her basket,  I believe she sells sandwiches. It is 11am and the sandwiches are finished already.  I wonder the time she came out of the house to start selling and I will not try to imagine when she woke up to take care of her kids,  husband and even prepare the leaves and vegetables for sale. Her dozing in a car is understandable.  It is rather unfortunate I will have to wake her up in order to alight.  Sorry mum,  she smiled at me,  got down, and even helped me with my things so I can also get down.  Thank you maa,  oh don't mention she added.  She is strong,  she is full of lif

I came here as a volunteer and I came with very wiered ideologies, and a lot of misconceptions,  it is probably one of the reasons why I volunteered. I need a change of mind and I need a new environment to do so. I must see new things, I must hear new things and I must experience something outside the norm. The truth is, you do not usually see HIV positive people in my country,  and even if there are, it will be in their own interest not to speak up about it.  It must be a secret between they and their health professional, otherwise they face the ugliest stigma of their lives. Their society and friends are the least they would be worried about because their family are going to champion this stigma. Spreading their issue throughout the society and tagging them with all sort of names and attributes. In the worst case scenario,  Leaving the community to lead an isolated lonely life is always their best option and the next thing you hear about is their death. Why we are like this toward

....Dear diary, I love myself like I love black.  Diary, I love to write than to talk. I am going to lock my memories with you, please listen to me even if you are not interested, please do not be like the people I have come across, and also do not take my memories to others, they are a cherished treasure. First, I will tell you about the Hero of my Life. I will tell you about the reason behind my strength and I will tell you about the saver of my life. I will tell you about Maama. You see my Maama was a very disciplined woman. Maama was told to make sure she looks presentable anytime she goes out of the house, and can you believe Maama wore "Kaba and skirt" along with it's wrapper and its "Diku" with a big veil only to fetch water. Maama will put on her "Lelle" back anytime it gets wiped off or begins to fade, because Maama was told to always look as beautiful as a bride for Paa. Maama is 33, but she looks 40. The weight of the pot of water everyd

'If you don't know the meaning of the word "confuse", ask that beautiful lady in your area, school or just around you.'      From childhood to my adolescence; my teen age, my mother and teachers always advised we the beautiful damsels with quality assets about how guys will be chasing us like their dreams when you get to some age. That age when your 'back case' and 'front engines' are very visible and tempting enough to confuse the blind. At those early stages of a lady's life, she starts to behave somewhat weird and sees herself as the world's most beautiful girl. It's abnormally normal. But the most funny part of all is when you make up your mind that you will marry any moment from that time, then you start to ask yourself rhetorical questions. Whenever I sat with my friends and that thing about love, relationship, dating or marriage pops out, you wont believe how we discuss the qualities we wish for in our Mr Right. Usually, I shy

HER DIARY It was leaning by my gate. It was as if someone had intentionally placed it there to be recognised. It is black, and it's owner is not here. I walked passed it even though my curiosity was just above sea level, but the only thing in my mind now is how good my bed makes me feel. I need alot of rest after walking to and fro these mountanious surrounding. At a point I was wandering how the Sai (safa Wal marwah) will be like, I chose to work here because of the weather, forgetting most of my work had to do with walking up and down these hills. I always console myself with the fact that it is an exercise. Bag to the couch, one shoe at the gate, the other under the bed, trousers on the gate, shirt in the couch, watch and phone on the center table and the body straight to the bed. It is 4:45pm, I can have a nap before Magrib. It is past working hours and I don't expect any disturbing calls, though you cannot predict Mama, I hope she calls after Isha, so that I can pretend

Calm down dear, relax, look at my face, take a deep breath, in, out, in, out, will you like a cold drink or some water? "Water will do", she responded. She leaned on the back rest of the seat as I got the water from the fridge. I now see the importance of doing trauma counselling in a very comfortable surrounding, it helps alot. Flashback of emotions and struggle from a narration can be very disturbing for some clients, especially if they are teenagers like this girl sitting behind me right now. She was raped, but the laws are not to be blamed. As a counselor, getting her out of this trauma and paranoia is my duty, the rest is left for the law makers and the law implementation team. Here you are honey, I handed over a cup of water to her, she gulped it all down and placed the cup on the centre table. Her legs were stretched on the table so I decided to give her a break. 'Relax, we will continue in five minutes'. .......................... How are you feeling now?

Suddenly the place was burning, a form of sensation I have never felt since birth. I mostly heard my classmates discuss about menstruating and many other related issues. I can say I picked most of my information from them, aside what our teacher taught us during our 'reproduction' class. Being it right or wrong I have taken them as I heard. I am 14years old, the youngest in my class, JHS 3. The Amazing thing is that, I am the only female in this class who has not yet seen my pants turn red, though I have seen some little hair grow around my private area and my armpit, I am impatiently waiting for the day I will see my panty turn red. Everyday I get disappointed and go back home with my panty still white, and just stained with a little bit of fluid as usual. Today seems different, have I finally menstruated?  Am I going to walk proudly, feeling like a real lady? Anyway let me find out. I rushed into the washroom, and to my surprise, my purse was dumped in the stagnant urine, O

BHOOM!!!!!!! That was the sound that followed the bright red light appearing suddenly throughout the sky. I ran out of my room trying to figure out what could be happening. 'Bro, please what was that sound?' I asked a housemate. 'I hear say some gas explode for atomic junction.' He said in his Nigerian accent. That was when my brain put things together and my limbs began to tremble. My teeth began to chatter and I wondered if I had become cold or scared. I distanced myself from the explosion as far as I could, striving hard to widen the space between myself and the smoke. I was not only avoiding the gas fire, but also the naked wires over my head; the live wires scattered above me with no proper insulation. Trying to find a safe place, which does not exist when talking about a gas explosion of such proportions, so many questions ran through my mind. Inappropriate siting of fuel stations in this country is costing us precious lives, yet nothing is being done about i

They found me a stranger, and liked my smile. They found me a stranger and thought I can be kept at home. They found me a stranger and believed I am worthy. I don't know what convinced them, but they found their own convincing factor in me. I doubted myself but they never doubted​ me. I positioned myself to push and they all shouted "PUUUUSH, UMMI PUUSH", so I kept pushing, I had no strength left, but the morale kept me going. I choose to believe this is love and this kind of love I have never seen. To love someone, we have to learn about them and know them. Favor got me love, even from those who have never seen me, those who know just a little about me, yet believe there is good in me. What I have seen and what I believe in, is the story today. I believe I am the luckiest bride on Earth and will forever be,  So many unique things that came from all of you, I couldn't do it alone. Together we challenged the status quo and we made a rainbow in the bright sun. W

INSANE; A MAD MAN WRITES. We "Dirty and disgusting" mad men in Ghana are wiser than those of you claiming sanity. Do you remember when the leadership of the Ashanti  kingdom announced the curfew in Kumasi during his mother's funeral? Funny enough, there were no madmen on the streets within those hours. We don't have a radio, we don't have a television, we don't have Facebook, Whats app, twitter, etc. How did we even know about it if we don't understand what you say. We also fear death, only God knows if we are really "insane" as you perceive us to be. Yes, only God knows if we are really insane. My brain cells are hitting each other now so I can't define "insane". Give me a pencil and paper and maybe I can draw 'insane' for you. Just as everyone else, I wake up to a new day each morning. I might have a fixed routine of a lifestyle, but I do get bridges and new exciting stuff because the sane people can be very insane

I was sitting on the chair, gazing at the beautiful dark leaves designed on my  feet. I was all smiley until I saw her pace in, taking a breath of at least 3seconds in-between her steps. She found her way into the room I was seated. There were four seats arranged in front of me for visitors. She sat down in a motion almost like how commandos' bullet was just about to hit the villain in a movie I once watched. 'How are you?'  she started, and before I could say 'I'm fine', she began a lecture with words of prayer and good wishes in-between. 'Your husband is your life now. May Allah bless your new home.  May you be blessed with kids who will grow to be heroes. May marriage be more of smiles than tears for you my dear.' I raised my head, trying to see her from behind the veil. I smiled while she continued. 'Marriage has its own challenges. You should be patient, for at least you have seen and heard a lot from this community. When you wake up in the

The wall was tall, it covered the ground floor, but it could not hide the fact that, the building is a storey building, painted in green, with white strips, in a nutshell; very beautiful. The entrance gave space for 3 green dustbins with the stamp of the waste  management company in white paint on it. The house was green, the gate was green, the dustbins were green and it was all beautiful, but what caught my attention was not the beauty, but the little ugliness at the entrance. The dustbins were full, all three, and they had some extra boxes in front of it, those were also full, with some more rubbish scattered in front of this beautiful house. Who is to be blamed, we cannot point out, but one thing is for sure, we could all be responsible in one way or the other. Sherry ahead and Aisha behind me, we find our way through these pack of rubbish, black and white take away rubbers, dozens of empty filtered water sachet, a little more of papers, and empty cans and bottles. If I were blin

IN THE LAND OF MYTH; WHERE THERE IS NO KNOWLEDGE In the land of myth, where there exists no knowledge, but the knowledge necessary for survival. Where in-depth wisdom is the gift of man, and common sense is a natural gift like breath. Where there exists no invisible boundaries and a smile really is contiguous as it is supposed to be. Where our race does not differentiate us from others. Our financial status does not determine our rank in the society, nor does our socioeconomic status affect the kind of friends we, and our family, can possess and relate to. Where no one dies by a sword nor kills by a sword. Where we do not yearn for more than we can lay hands on, and men do not have to liquidate each other for Gold or Coal. And I do not have to frame my sister in other to snatch her possessions. Where we do not yearn more for individualism than we do for unity. Where walls do not signify division, and do not give us the permission to kill each other, but are just tools for decorat

I don't know what dragged me into this big city filled with tall buildings and big cars. I was happy downtown with my family. I remember when we rode on donkeys to the farm every dawn. Now the only sounds I hear at dawn is the dragging of pans and teenagers like me shouting "The Bus Has Arrived"!!! Was it the big barrels and shiny utensils Saratu returned home with after spending 2years in the city that attracted me here?, or my will to put a smile on my parents face  that got me into this regretful existence?. My name is Marwah Abdullah. I am 14years old and hail from Kpalsi, a farming community in the Northern part of Ghana. I used to live there with my parents and my seven siblings. Life was as beautiful and refreshing as ever. I wasn't a fun of schooling, because I didn't see the essence of sitting in the classroom for hours; only to go back home with a book with couple of Alphabets in it to rewrite. I will rather follow my parents to the farm, kill and roa

Somewhere in Aboabo, as I find my way to Bohyen, Alhaji Moro's cow has escaped and Mumuni and Abdullai are after it. This cow must die today. When I reached Asawasi, I heard Inusah shouting, " the one who has taken the head and legs of the cow should bring them back, otherwise today will not end well". Descending the hills of Alarbar, I noticed all the gutters were filled with bloody water, some even had faeces of animals in them. I am wearing all white, It is Eidhul-Adha, the Hausa man will say "Layya" or "Babban Sallah", and the Ashanti man will directly translate it and say "Sallah K3se3". It is a moment of immense joy. When we fry, cook and roast as much meat as we want, we even keep some in the refrigerator for future use. At Old Suame, Hajia Amina and Hajia Rahmatu are done preparing the rice, and waiting for Baabangida to bring the meat. Baabangida slaughtered the cow 15minutes ago and is cutting it into sections. Upon reaching Ne