Wednesday, 20 April 2011
FOR 'E'
Am I playing with the words
E...
Let me say the words
Don't let me play with the words
I wanna tell you these words
These words that I can't say
These words that breathe in my ink
These words that make me... us anew...
Monday, 18 April 2011
JUST EXPRESSING...
I need not tell you how blessed you are to be alive, need I? I need not tell you how pretty or beautiful you to believe it, need I? Oh! I guess you only love hearing it over and over. Well, I actually didn't want to, but writing it just did... Oops... this ink!
The first day someone told me, "wow! You're such a writer..." my response was "ok" [whiles giggling]. I didn't know why I did that. I guess it's because I didn't believe it... it's because I saw it as a HUGE THING... /smiles/. But amazingly, I found myself writing all the time. Not weird...
Then it started feeling deep... personal... different... I couldn't just write about anything anymore... I could only be inspired by my emotions. Now, that was HUGE. Yes, I read Literature in Junior High School but this felt so different. It felt so... different! The pen's now my 2nd bff cos someway somehow, my own writing inspires me, chastises me and empowers me to get me going.
In growing up, I settled singing in God's house was my only department in God's business. Now, I know of another. Writing. Hmmm... It's not easy. Multitasking, I mean. But c'mon, this is God's business we're talking about. It's as if I've got an option, I don't... Well, maybe I have but I choose not to even consider it. At church one Sunday, my youth pastor said during his session, "look at these twins, Curtis and Patricia. I see them and I see 5-talented people..." I started to wonder, how did he see what he saw? What did he actually see? What is he talking about? For some reason, instantly it felt heavy. Don't know how my brother felt though...
Take this: I may not have unveiled all my talents but I'm aware of 2. Are you? What are you doing about it? Do you think God will be satisfied with what you're doing now with what you have? God wouldn't look at you empty handed and give you a task. No! Even the hands you see are useful in his house. Ask yourself, how many lives have I inspired? How many souls have I saved? How many times has God smiled at me?
He's coming like wildfire. Don't live your life as if nothing is at stake. The things you're doing now can't be compared to those you don't know yet cos you haven't tried. When you get to a foreign land, I bet your inquisitive nature stirs up, pushing you so hard to explore and get to know anywhere... everywhere. Why can't you do so here? Why are you so stuck to one thing... To one place...
You've been resting for too long. As for me, I think my brain's had enough rest.
The first day someone told me, "wow! You're such a writer..." my response was "ok" [whiles giggling]. I didn't know why I did that. I guess it's because I didn't believe it... it's because I saw it as a HUGE THING... /smiles/. But amazingly, I found myself writing all the time. Not weird...
Then it started feeling deep... personal... different... I couldn't just write about anything anymore... I could only be inspired by my emotions. Now, that was HUGE. Yes, I read Literature in Junior High School but this felt so different. It felt so... different! The pen's now my 2nd bff cos someway somehow, my own writing inspires me, chastises me and empowers me to get me going.
In growing up, I settled singing in God's house was my only department in God's business. Now, I know of another. Writing. Hmmm... It's not easy. Multitasking, I mean. But c'mon, this is God's business we're talking about. It's as if I've got an option, I don't... Well, maybe I have but I choose not to even consider it. At church one Sunday, my youth pastor said during his session, "look at these twins, Curtis and Patricia. I see them and I see 5-talented people..." I started to wonder, how did he see what he saw? What did he actually see? What is he talking about? For some reason, instantly it felt heavy. Don't know how my brother felt though...
Take this: I may not have unveiled all my talents but I'm aware of 2. Are you? What are you doing about it? Do you think God will be satisfied with what you're doing now with what you have? God wouldn't look at you empty handed and give you a task. No! Even the hands you see are useful in his house. Ask yourself, how many lives have I inspired? How many souls have I saved? How many times has God smiled at me?
He's coming like wildfire. Don't live your life as if nothing is at stake. The things you're doing now can't be compared to those you don't know yet cos you haven't tried. When you get to a foreign land, I bet your inquisitive nature stirs up, pushing you so hard to explore and get to know anywhere... everywhere. Why can't you do so here? Why are you so stuck to one thing... To one place...
You've been resting for too long. As for me, I think my brain's had enough rest.
Tuesday, 12 April 2011
HMMM... GHANA
I arrived at the Kotoka International Airport around 8pm on Friday. The first thing i did was take in a deep breath of the fresh, authentic, pollution free Ghanaian air. My, was it refreshing! Having lived in Brookly, Lower Manhattan, New York all my life [I wish! hehe...] all I have ever heard of Ghana were stories told to me my Ghanaian mother Naa Momo and my American dad, Drew Anderston who had married my mother in Ghana during a brief period of study before returning to New York with her before I was born. Making my way down the tarmac to the reception of the airport, I felt a huge nostalgic sense of fulfillment being in my country of origin at last.
I was looking forward for an opportunity compelling enough to pull me away from the legal secretariat job at Oaks and Johns Law firm and thrust me right into Ghana. Kwesi Barnes was that opportunity. I met him working on a case for my firm in Texas and we immediately established a cordial connection. Fortuitously, he was also in Manhattan and it was not long before our relationship graduated into a romantic one. Six months later, Kwesi popped the question and I agreed to us getting married. I squealed in delight when he added that he would like us to get married, in Ghana! Now, here I was, walking into the airport, my fiance and his family coming into sight. How I had missed him!
He had arrived a week before me to make preparations and seeing him now, a flurry of emotions engulfed me. I jumped into his arms and locked his lips in a long, wet, passionate kiss. Oblivious of the presence of his mother, father and aunts, I was jolted back to reality by the questioning, disapproving glances they shot at me. "uptight, aren't they?", I whispered to Kwesi on our way back to his house in Tema. At the car park, I received more of the same when I insisted that I was gonna spend the weekend in Kwesi's house than with his family in their family house. As uncomfortable as it was, I stuck to my guns... I usually do.I had not seen my love in a long while and I would be damned if any 'proper' family conduct was going to prevent that.
On Saturday evening, an event occurred that which proved to be the proverbial "straw that broke the camel's back". I had decided to give Kwesi a 'treat' and so just before he was supposed to arrive from work, I put out all the lights in the house, lit up some candles, changed into some sexy Victorian Secret lingerie and lay down on my sofa, waiting to surprise my sweet black, Ghanaian hunk.
When I heard the click of the door opening, I adjusted into a sexy, lewd position. To my utter disgust, in walked Kwesi, but with his parents! The tension that filled the room could be literally cut with a knife. Excusing myself, I shamefully tripped into the bedroom to change and even before I left, the reprimand had started.
Apparently, from my arrival, complaints had started circling among my reception party. Complaints ranging from me not being respectful, polite, courteous or God-fearing. It was there that it dawned on me, it was a whole different culture; a whole different environment. And in this country, this culture, kissing my fiance in front of his family meant I was impolite, an unashamed woman; my insistence on living in his house before we were married meant I had no scruples and God knows what being found sprawled out in my lingerie meant!
I had learnt my lesson and with heartfelt apologies, promised to behave in a more circumspect manner. I remembered now, what my mother said right I left, "...remember, this is Ghana oo..."
I was looking forward for an opportunity compelling enough to pull me away from the legal secretariat job at Oaks and Johns Law firm and thrust me right into Ghana. Kwesi Barnes was that opportunity. I met him working on a case for my firm in Texas and we immediately established a cordial connection. Fortuitously, he was also in Manhattan and it was not long before our relationship graduated into a romantic one. Six months later, Kwesi popped the question and I agreed to us getting married. I squealed in delight when he added that he would like us to get married, in Ghana! Now, here I was, walking into the airport, my fiance and his family coming into sight. How I had missed him!
He had arrived a week before me to make preparations and seeing him now, a flurry of emotions engulfed me. I jumped into his arms and locked his lips in a long, wet, passionate kiss. Oblivious of the presence of his mother, father and aunts, I was jolted back to reality by the questioning, disapproving glances they shot at me. "uptight, aren't they?", I whispered to Kwesi on our way back to his house in Tema. At the car park, I received more of the same when I insisted that I was gonna spend the weekend in Kwesi's house than with his family in their family house. As uncomfortable as it was, I stuck to my guns... I usually do.I had not seen my love in a long while and I would be damned if any 'proper' family conduct was going to prevent that.
On Saturday evening, an event occurred that which proved to be the proverbial "straw that broke the camel's back". I had decided to give Kwesi a 'treat' and so just before he was supposed to arrive from work, I put out all the lights in the house, lit up some candles, changed into some sexy Victorian Secret lingerie and lay down on my sofa, waiting to surprise my sweet black, Ghanaian hunk.
When I heard the click of the door opening, I adjusted into a sexy, lewd position. To my utter disgust, in walked Kwesi, but with his parents! The tension that filled the room could be literally cut with a knife. Excusing myself, I shamefully tripped into the bedroom to change and even before I left, the reprimand had started.
Apparently, from my arrival, complaints had started circling among my reception party. Complaints ranging from me not being respectful, polite, courteous or God-fearing. It was there that it dawned on me, it was a whole different culture; a whole different environment. And in this country, this culture, kissing my fiance in front of his family meant I was impolite, an unashamed woman; my insistence on living in his house before we were married meant I had no scruples and God knows what being found sprawled out in my lingerie meant!
I had learnt my lesson and with heartfelt apologies, promised to behave in a more circumspect manner. I remembered now, what my mother said right I left, "...remember, this is Ghana oo..."
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