Not one of us 2

It’s Easter, one of my favourite periods of the year. I would send you ‘greetings’ but I can’t stand the ‘Happy Easter’ greeting. It’s sort of flat. I prefer ‘Christ is risen’ with the response ‘He’s risen indeed!’ That, after all, is the essence of Easter- his death, resurrection and what that sacrifice symbolizes for us. I have been away from social media for a … Continue reading Not one of us 2

Little foxes 

I know you are expecting another Capital High episode this week. For one or two reasons, I could not finish it in time, but to make up for the disappointment, I am sending you an end of year present. A lot of people have asked me when I would do a Christian story. Well, this is a story about Christians and something we are all familiar with- temptation. Happy reading! 

Kojo clasped the pulpit with all his might and blinked twice. Beads of perspiration formed on his forehead.  Nope, it wasn’t a dream. She was really here.

Jessica in the flesh. Looking like ten years had not gone by. Like it was just yesterday that he had her propped up against the wall in the Maths and Statistics Department, groping her like his very existence depended on it . Those wild times. Before he gave his life to Christ. Before he became Associate Pastor for Living Faith Ministries International.

Yes, church. He realized that he had been silent for too long. The entire church stared back at him. Seeing Jessica has made him lose his train of thought. He needed to focus.

‘Halleluyah! God has laid a song on my heart.’

Do something new in my life, something new in my life, something new in my life, O Lord…

The church burst into song- with the women waving their white handkerchiefs in the air. They were oblivious to the fact that this was his way of regaining composure, that is everyone else but Jessica. She winked at him the next time their eyes met. Clearly, she was enjoying this.

Jessica. Gosh, it’s been so long.

He boxed his way through the service, all the while trying not to look too often at the far left hand corner of the church where she was seated. After the service, he stood making small talk with some of the elders, delaying their impending reunion. When she was tired of waiting, she walked up to him and said, ‘Can I please have a word with the pastor?’ The elders, thinking that she needed some counselling, gave them space.

‘If the mountain won’t come to Muhammad, Muhammad must go to the mountain, right? Wait, that would be inappropriate because you are a reverend minister, wouldn’t it? Pastor Kojo! Just thinking about how inappropriate it is to flirt with you in front of the altar makes it even more appealing. Forbidden fruit, they call it. That’s in the Bible, isn’t it? I missed you, Kojo.’

The whole time he was standing there, he was cursing his stars for wearing such tight fitting trousers. There was something about Jessica that turned his libido into an untamed animal. He could barely think straight.

‘Cat caught your tongue? Clearly I have still got it- the key to Pastor Kojo’s heart. Well, I am back in town. Same house. You know where to find me. Sermon was good, by the way.’ She turned on her heels, putting on a show as she walked away. Kojo and every member of his body stood at rapt attention; the swaying of her hips almost hypnotic.

‘Who was that?’

He came to his senses when he heard Asantewaa’s voice.

‘An old friend from school. Let’s head home. I am starving.’

As his wife dutifully led the way, he wondered why she didn’t sway her hips for him whenever he was behind her.


‘Why am I here?’, Kojo asked himself after ringing the bell.  ‘I am a married man, I am a pastor, why am I standing in front of my ex-girlfriend’s house with an erection? Get it together, Kojo! You can’t-‘

All his defenses crumbled to dust when he saw her. She was wearing a tank top and very tiny shorts. When she turned, he saw that she was bra-less.

‘Come on in. I don’t bite.’

She offered him a drink. He was hesitant.

‘I haven’t had alcohol in the longest time. Not since I was with you.’

‘No wonder you look so uptight these days.’

He laughed. That was what he missed about her. There were no rules with Jessica- no judgement, no questions. That would probably explain why he had never really gotten over her. That would also explain why he didn’t protest when she reached over to unbuckle his belt.

Continue reading “Little foxes “

Capital High Ep02: Genesis

Did you read Episode 1? You should probably read that before you read this! Enjoy Episode 2 🙂 

P.S: When you leave a comment, do let me know which school you attended. Happy reading!

Adriana took one look at the neon hands of the alarm clock and the pit in her stomach widened. It was finally here- the first day of school. She was dreading it- the homoing*, the food, the punishments, life without hot water, a phone or cable TV. Her eyes fell on her uniform that had been neatly pressed by Adiza the night before  and sighed.

I better get on with it.

Akpene had been up since 3am. She could no longer contain her excitement. She was desperate to get out of Chorkor and do something with her life. For the first time in her life, she had her own brown sandals and black shoes. Granted, they were hand-me-downs and had seen more than their fair share of wear and tear, but they were hers. She could finally start studying to become a nurse. That way, she could give her mother and her little brother a better life.

Mr Confidence Hormeku was the house master for Liberation House. He prided himself in being the toughest house master in the school- feared by students and teachers. It was no secret that he resented Gagert and thought that he would do a much better job running the school . He also had very bad breath and the Liberation boys had developed a knack for standing in such a way that the ‘aroma’ would not hit their noses, whenever they had to talk to him. His wife had fought with him the night before because he had refused to allow her niece to spend some time with them. Fighting with his wife meant that he had to sleep on the couch. Sleeping on the couch meant back pains. Mr Hormeku was not a happy man that Wednesday morning.

He literally barked at the house captains to make sure that the entrance to the house was spic and span before the newbies arrived. He seized a Form 2 boy’s radio and smashed it to the ground. Everyone knew that it was safer to stay out of his way. It was soon 8 am and the main gates were opened so that the new batch of Form 1s could come in.


 

Curtis reached for the Kiwi liquid polish one last time and took a swipe at his shoes. They turned a corner and all of a sudden, the school stood before them. He had always known that he would come to school here- his father was not Chairman of the School Board for nothing. He asked the driver to park as far away to the house as possible so that he could take his dear time to walk to the house. When he alighted from the Mercedes ML350, he drank in the attention and murmurs that he had now become accustomed to. He made sure that the ‘Curtis P. Addae-Mensah’ inscribed on his trunk was visible and then he began to walk towards Liberation House, followed by the driver and the house boy.

Kwamena Welbeck was next in line to register at Liberation House. He had heard of Mr Hormeku way before he even entered Class 4. His three elder brothers had all been in Liberation House and let’s just say, they left their mark. When he presented his documents to Mr Hormeku, it took him mere seconds to recognize the name. He took one look at Kwamena and turned to the house prefects.

‘You allowed this hooligan into my house? How did this escape me?’

‘Oh Sir, you did not give us any guidelines.’

‘Nonsense. Rubbish. Stupidity!! I specifically said that there should be no Welbecks, no Asrakus and no Yussifs in my house.’

‘But Sir, maybe he is not like his brothers.’

‘Idiot! Can a leopard change its spots? How dare you challenge me?’

Continue reading “Capital High Ep02: Genesis”

Mamaba

Every now and then, I like to try something new. This time the story is told solely from the first person’s perspective. Let me know what you think! Enjoy the rest of the weekend- Keni!

‘Your mother doesn’t like me.’

The words hung awkwardly in the air. I desperately needed him to deny it, for him to assuage my fears. I fidgeted with my nails for what seemed like eternity. Then I tried again.

‘Jeffrey, are you there?’

‘Yes, I am here’, he answered quietly.

There was that awkward silence again.

I had my answer.

I mumbled a quick ‘I will talk to you later’ and hung up.

I met Jeffrey’s mum earlier today. Jeffrey and I had been together for three years and yet this was the first time I was meeting her. I didn’t find it particularly strange because she was rarely in the country. I had seen pictures of her and almost every night that Jeffrey was with me, he spent a few minutes on the phone with her, telling her about his day. She had come back from Canada the night before and I was supposed to meet her that day.

I went through all my ‘appropriate for meeting the in law’ clothing twice and I still couldn’t find anything that was good enough.I desperately wanted to make a good impression. Jeffrey’s father had passed away when he was 17 and he was the only child. She was the only person in his life he looked up to. I had to get it right. I finally settled on a sleeveless yellow sundress and purple sandals. I pulled my hair in a bun and put on some lip gloss. Just before I left home, I splashed on some perfume- the perfume Jeffrey got me for Christmas.

Hopefully, I wasn’t going to send the ‘I am desperate for you to like me’ message, but rather the ‘I am the woman your son should marry’ message. When I got to the house, the atmosphere felt different- almost like how prep in secondary school felt when the senior house mistress was on patrol. Jeffrey tried to calm me down but the moment I heard her footsteps, the nervousness escalated once again.

She descended the stairs with such grace and authority that I had no choice than to scramble to my feet.  By the time she had sat down, my palms were sweating and all the creative conversation starters had fled from my head. She was wearing a long flowing coral blue linen dress. She had a short weave on and she was wearing red lipstick. Her acrylic nails were also painted cherry red. She had enough gold on her to make Otumfuo look like a pauper- three rings, one bracelet and one necklace with two pendants- a cross and the letter J, probably standing for Jeffrey. When she sat down, she crossed her legs, revealing an anklet.

What sort of 60 year old woman wears an anklet?

I gulped.

Continue reading “Mamaba”