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The still small voice
a still small voicespeaking to you in what seems likeyour own voiceyour own thoughts Nudging you to let goof the water slipping out of your clenched fistof hard efforts that have come to nothing a still small voicethat’s always lived with youinvisible like the windstealth like movements in the dark yet each time it speaksit’s…
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I will get there
I munch food noisily. Not deliberately. Naturally. I did not know this. I’ve been living alone and I had never paid attention. Until I found myself at a dinner, in the midst of respectable people, with no music to mask anything. The discovery was embarrassing. There and then I had to practice eating in a…
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Butukwen and his mother
Her son had a challenge. Physically, he was alright. Mentally, he was unstable, couldn’t sit at one place and behaved more like a toddler for his age. Personally, I felt his mother should have looked for a personal teacher for him, a teacher who taught him at home. Or maybe, the school should have separate…
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This too shall pass
We all acted ok, but deep down things looked bleak. My friend was sick, and I could see that though we were both broke, his situation was worse. He had no money, no food, nothing to buy even a leaf to cure himself. The note in my pocket was my last flour and oil to…
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Sack of trouble
Outside were parked beautiful cars belonging to students, and the entrance of the new hostel was busy with students moving in and out. Some from shopping malls holding with them fancy shopping bags loaded with provisions, others were moving in, aided by the porters who carried their fridges, microwave ovens or giant fluffy teddy bears…
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Tension
The receptionists were new. I exploited their inability to distinguish guests from staff. Slowly, I approach their desk. A stranger desperate to bypass them without being checked will try hurrying past while they were attending to some visitors, and this usually aroused their suspicions. I’ve been observing all this from a distance. And so, I…
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Life in Northern Ghana 1/10
Many who have lived all their lives in southern Ghana assume people from northern Ghana speak one language, are predominantly Muslims, have access to powerful magical charms, know one another’s hometowns, are troublesome by nature, live in primitive houses and practice primitive customs, eat weird food, and have parents who arrange marriages for children. Such…
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The new preacher
I stared at the WhatsApp post for a while. Of course I recognized the face. An old classmate. Lost touch with him since we completed school many years ago. Here he was, on the WhatsApp status of a close friend, posing as a preacher. I found it hard to accept the change. That boy has…
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Last time I saw Uncle Maduk
The last time I saw Uncle Maduk, he told me he knew he wasn’t going to survive the operation, and that by the time I am back for the next holidays, he might be no more. He thanked me for constantly paying him visits, bringing him fruits despite the rumors that he was an evil…
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Expedition to Mango heights
It was a long wall along a busy road. We stood by the wall, waiting, patiently. There always came a moment the busy road became quiet, kind of deserted. The very moment we were looking forward to. Ali bent, I stood on his bent back, and yet couldn’t properly reach the top of the wall.…
