Happy Wednesday!! Hope everyone is doing well! Been a busy week for me, hope yours went well too. My friend Caritas (gang leader for Team Kenkey at #theKenikodjomeetup) and her group, Tatas and Friends are giving back to the children in the Ejisu Government Hospital with Yendi Bronya (Kumasi Edition). To be a part of this, all you have to do is tick one or more things off the wish list: baby cots, clothes, toys, bed sheets, diapers, wipes, examination tables, shelves, face masks, wipes. If you prefer to donate in kind, please send your donation latest by the end of this month. They can send someone to pick up your donation wherever you are. Alternatively, you can send in your cash which will be used to purchase the items in Kumasi. Please contact them on any of the social media platforms for more information.
Today’s episode is dedicated to Drs. Georgina Bose-Duker ,Harriet Awula Naa Hammond and Nasara Imoro, as well as every other Kenikodjo reader who became a doctor over the last week. These ladies made my day when they told me that they read the stories as a reward for meeting a study goal. I am so happy that you made it and Kenikodjo can share in your doctor diaries. Birthday shoutouts to Etsey Atisu, Korkor Addo, Papa Effah, Asantewaa Okyere-Ankamah, Abigail Sintim and Richard Kotey Neequaye! May you grow from strength to strength. Thank you for being such supportive readers! Last week, I avoided the Trump-Clinton discussion but the Dubai one, I could not resist! Lol..
Now on to this week’s story..
‘I can explain.’
‘No, you don’t have to. It’s not like you owe me anything.’
‘But I should have said something’
‘No, it’s fine. I am happy for you though.’
‘When is the wedding?’
‘In a month’s time.’
But he was really thinking, ‘One month to your wedding and you were asking me whether I wanted you to get a belly button piercing? Wow.’
‘Are we still going to be lunch buddies?’, she asked with a shy smile.
‘Why not? No crime in having lunch, is there?’
‘Thanks. You are a really awesome guy.’
He waited until the echo of her shoes clicking had faded away before he started the car. He had a feeling that they would be discussing which shade of pink complimented the fuchsia better, or whether or not to go with a traditional wedding cake over lunch.
As Kari Jobe’s Forever replaced the silence, he asked himself, ‘Did I just get friendzoned?’
Everyday Mr Nice Guy.
That was what Akwesi called him.
And he was right.
Back on campus, Edem would go and drop all the girls off at their hostels and even take them to Night Market to buy food and a bag of water. He was always there to give a listening ear to the grieving girlfriend or the girl that every guy was lusting after. He was either their cousin or their brother. He knew their mums- they felt safe leaving their daughters in his care.
‘Massa, play hard to get small. Don’t be so sweet and caring all the time- they will take you for granted. Sometimes hard guy, not everyday Mr Nice Guy. Otherwise you will always be their sweet and caring brother/ cousin, never the boo. Notice how I always get the girls, even though I never take them to Night Market? Ibi stra. Play hard to get.’
He didn’t follow that rule when it came to Dr Osam though.
It was amusing to see Akwesi lovestruck.
The boys were always laughing at Akwesi for breaking every rule in his Player’s Handbook.
As he turned onto the Spintex road, this thought came to him.
One day, I will also find a girl who doesn’t think of me as a brother or cousin.
He could not help but smile.
The way he jerked back when he saw her coming made her suspicious.
What is Robert hiding?
When he got into the shower, she picked up his phone and went to his gallery. There was nothing suspicious there.
Maku, when did you get here? You have never been insecure about your relationship. Where is this coming from?
Just when she was about to put the phone back where she had seen it, the screen lit up.
You are so sweet.
It was from an app she had never seen on his phone before-Snapchat.
The boys in the office had been talking about it during the lunch break. Apparently it was the perfect app for discreet sexting- the messages vanished as soon as you read them and the pictures/videos only lasted for only 24 hours.
‘This way, what happens on Snapchat stays on Snapchat. There is nothing to hide or spill. It is perfect for me.’, Eben said, his grin getting wider with every syllable.
What is Robert doing on Snapchat?
The phone buzzed again.
So about that dinner..
Maku had seen enough.
She put the phone back where she took it from and went to bed.
The next day, Kevin was waiting for her at her desk, with a cup of green tea in his hand.
Kevin, her office husband.
Apparently every girl had one of those.
A guy in the office whose company she enjoyed, who complimented all her dresses and shoes, the one who was secretly in love with her and was just wishing for her husband/boyfriend to mess up so that he could swoop in and save the day.
Yeah, that one.
Everyone had one of those.
He dressed well- sometimes it felt as though he dressed up for her. He also smelt good. When he gave her hugs, his hand lingered over her backside ever slightly- not too long for it to seem inappropriate for the onlooker, but long enough to get her all hot and bothered.
Kevin had a way of sensing when she was having a tough day or week and swooping in to save it. He made her feel beautiful, intelligent, wanted. That was something she had not felt in a while- not since she first got pregnant. He could see it when she was hiding tears or putting up a hard girl facade. He also knew how to make her smile.
‘Hey there beautiful! Looking like you live on the front cover of Vogue Magazine. Sleep well?’
She smiled, her Snapchat worries forgotten, as she leaned in for a hug.
‘There is that smile! How is the husband?’
It was as though he was waiting for her to say ‘We are no longer together.’
Sometimes she wished she could say that. Not because Robert was a bad husband, but because she was tired of being in this same cycle over and over again.
A random quickie in the office bathroom won’t be a bad thing.
She pushed the thought away when she saw Dracula approaching.
Lusting after your co-worker is inappropriate.
She could hear it in Dracula’s voice. Only Dracula would use a word like lusting in a situation like this- with her iconic straight face.
Everyone was at Akwesi’s place as usual. They were playing FIFA 17 and having random conversations when Joseph walked in.
‘Just the man I have been waiting for.’
‘So your man figa say what? He will build an interchange with fancy lights and win the election? Ah akoa wei paa?
‘Guys, Mahama is pulling an FBI emails move. Commissioning projects left and right. Abi we get short memory? Y’all should respect Joseph- he is heading to Flagstaff House. John Mahama is going to toaso*!’
‘No way! Don’t blaspheme! Another 4 years, you have got to be kidding me.’
‘Sit there and be using big words. Did you see the ceremony?’
‘You mean the rally? That thing was a disguised rally oo.’
‘It was on UTV too- that is the station for the masses.’
‘Listen, it is not interchanges that we need. All we need is for Mahama to leave office by January 2017. Is it disco light that we have not seen before?’
‘Haters will say disco light. Watch Mahama light his way into the Flagstaff House.’
‘Akwesi, why you be NDC?’, one of the boys asked.
‘Naah. I am everywhere oo. If you are NDC, I am NDC with you. If you are NPP, I am NPP with you. The independent candidate sef, I dey in back! I am on the winning side- whichever one that may be.’
‘My plan for this election is for anyone but Mahama to win.’
‘Anyone but Mahama sen? So the independent candidate sef?’
‘Why not? Maybe he will do a better job.’
‘We don’t have time for trial and error. Change is coming. That is what is important. Mahama and his cronies must go. How can you tell me that this interchange makes the place look like Dubai and that I should worship it? I mean how?’
‘Chale, boys take the matter personal oo. My issue with the NPP is that they are focusing on social media campaigns. Elections are not won on social media- go bizz Clinton.’
‘Stop comparing the US elections with that of Ghana. Different rules, diferent set of candidates, different records. This is not burger and chips matter, purely waakye with egg, wele and talia*.’
‘All food be food.Me, I don’t care who wins- so long as it is not Mahama.That guy eh?’
‘NPP dey campaign oo. 7th December, we shall see.’
‘Oh by the way, did you see what happened with Martin Amidu? That might remind Ghanaians of how corrupt the NDC has been.’
‘Haha, did you see the boxing arena? The people are happy- they don’t care about judgment debt.’
‘Maybe that is the problem- too many people care about themselves and too few about the country. You this guy sed, you are only voting NDC because of the contracts your father will get, not because of how he will govern. All this be adidigya‘
‘See this guy who is talking chao. You don’t even have a voter’s ID card.’
‘JM anaa? Onaaapo! Kofi Dubai papa paa!’
‘Look at this one too. After all the analysis we have done, you have come with jingles and nicknames. That be what we go chop?’
Edem’s phone buzzed.
It was a text message from Dr Osam.
Hi Edem. Are you with Akwesi? Please don’t let him see this. We need to talk.
He stepped away sleathily into the bathroom and made sure it was locked before he made the call.
After listening intently for a few seconds, he said, ‘Okay, I am on my way.’
See you next week!
*toaso – continue reigning as President
*adidigya– selfishly keeping the spoils to one’s self