Your Cue, Edward, Your Cue

True, we fear the unknown but are confident with the perceptible, even what others bear witness to. Has it ever crossed your mind that the human race is the only living organism that holds the knowledge of death whiles living; yet we fear this knowledge.

Yeah, death… not something you would want to talk about, is it? I bet the trees don’t know about death until they die, neither does that lake nor the ant freely transporting those bread crumbs, but you do, because you aren’t dead… not yet.

It hurts to lose someone
It hurts to come to terms with the fact that they don’t exist anymore
No more calls
No more pings on Facebook notifications
No more smiles and complements
Simply, dead
Just like that… dead

All we’re left with are memories that stir up our emotions and the longing to see them one more time.
God please, one more time… just this once.

Death is wicked, I don’t like him. He makes me feel everything I don’t want to feel.

Edward, I just heard you passed on. I’m glad you’re relieved of the pain your body suffered but I miss you, okay?

The last time we spoke, I happened to mention how I’d started writing professionally and was earning incomes. I asked you not to tell, and you said “deal! That’s our little known secret”. Then you went on to tell me how you’d wanted us to write together. The plan? You said “let us write about how the year has treated us. Your perspective, then mine”.

Well, here is mine:

Amazing year, rough lessons, tough love, change; that’s how this year’s treated me, particularly change. This year, my imperfections perfected my being, surprisingly they revealed a part of me I consciously hid from myself. Little did I know that those imperfections were that which will eventually cause me to grow and be wise. I’ve laughed a lot, cried too many, even lost myself. It will be alright in the end, I say, yeah, I know… we all know that if it’s not alright, it’s not the end. But in all this, I’ve lived; I’ve stepped out of bed every morning with both bare feet kissing this cold ground. For this, I am grateful, to an intangible Supremacy I honour everyday. My name is Miz Akwele and I’ve had an amazing year with rough lessons, tough love, and change.

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This is your cue, Edward.
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Edward? Tell us, how has this year been for you… Edward, c’mon don’t be silent.
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Edward

Edward

Edward, say something.
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I’ll miss you, Edward Oteng Maafo. We’ll meet again, this time, without your glasses and I promise not to mention how small and Asian your eyes look without them.

Rest, my friend, rest.

…But Others!

You think you are alright because you’ve been that church boy, church girl, all your life and never backslidden out of the church.
You never played the prodigal son; never felt the need to ask God for a little ‘freedom with provision’ to satisfy your curiosity and later come to the realisation of who you really are and where you ought to be.
Yeah, you are alright.

You’ve never gotten drunk because you’ve never been in an environment where you’ve been indirectly influenced to. Perhaps you’ve never tasted the sweetness of some of the hard liquor.
So yeah, you are alright.

You’ve never stolen money because you haven’t been in the position to.
You’re alright like that.

You’ve never fornicated because a charming and irresistible man whom you can never say no to hasn’t approached you yet… he’s not touched you at certain places in certain ways yet.
So yeah! You are alright.

But woe unto you if you point a finger at that prodigal son who’s returned to his father’s house.
Woe unto you if you if you talk behind his back and judge him.
Woe unto you if you call him foolish, because for all we know, you might never return if you were in his shoes and strayed your path.
Perhaps, you would’ve returned but a week late, when your patient loving father who was awaiting your return is a week late.

There, you will know your fate lies with your elder brother; the one who’d always been there with, and for your father.

You cannot be comfortable where you are, because you can still be a church boy, a church girl, yet backslide, in the church, with your fellow saints. Be careful. Just be careful.

He who stands, stands because he is not falling.
He who is standing, remains standing because he can achieve more standing as compared to falling and remaining there.
Even toddlers… even toddlers who haven’t experienced life’s gloom yet, know that when they stand and fall, they have to stand again.

You can never be comfortable. But if you are, if you feel you are alright, think of OTHERS.

The Brows Are Not Twins, They Are Sisters! Opal Makeup Class With Special Appearance By Ashiakie Momo

I’m lousy with makeup, at least not until this past weekend at Opal Makeup Class. I entered with virtually no makeup gadgets yet left feeling like a pro. Truth is, this class was informative.

Makeup Test Shots By Opal Makeup, Photographed By Steve Ababio

On the first day we met, I knew I wanted her to be more than just the MUA to me. I wanted her to be my friend, such a sweet spirited woman.

FLOAT – Photographed By Bob Pixel & Steve Ababio

Red is everything bold; to be clothed in a red gown is twice that feel.

To Save A Life

It’s 04:23 and I’m thinking, if I had the chance to save your life before you lost it, I will. I’m thinking about you.

The sharp piercings of pain prickles my senses to the core when you think yourself worthless. My heart practically breaks every moment you feel you were never made for this. You were.

You see, I have problems too. The elephant is failure-prone to the ant… yeah! We’re never safe until we feel we are. But you are; you are safe.

I know this because I believe in you. Wait… you thought no one did? [Sigh!]

Did you come unto this earth by freewill? Why would you choose to exit out how you didn’t come? Don’t do that.

You are valuable, your being, I need you. I need you to read this to inspire me… inspire another. I need you to comment on this and tell me you get it, so I know I’m valuable too, only because you are. That’s your value to me now.

If you’d passed me a note telling me you’d want to kill yourself, end it all, I’ll tear the same page of my book, write same, then pass you a note too. Let’s see how that works out for both of us.

You’ve no idea how valuable a treasure you are.

RAPTURE… BUT I WASN’T TAKEN!

This is NOT FICTION.
I woke up from this dream practically an hour ago, and before I woke up, I heard a whisper “I have a message for you”.

It was a full day’s dream, as in the dream started from morning till late in the evening, but when I woke up and checked the time, it was exactly 3hrs.

There was a bit of chaos in the beginning, with my life personally; a man I supposedly know changed his ‘self’, literally. He impersonated someone by using certain chemicals he said he’d made from the lab, and destroyed his actual self, so he never existed. He followed me for hours because I knew, and he didn’t want word out there. So I kept running and hiding all day ti I got to a sanctuary with a lot of people I supposedly knew. I was surprised to see them all together, but it made me feel safe.

Later, I came out to the foyer to chat with a few people, then I heard some music, but as though it’s being played through horns, so I rushed out to find where it was from. People kept asking, ‘do you hear that too?’ Then others started crying. Before it ended, there was screaming everywhere!! Accidents… A plane crashed in the air!!

I rushed back into the sanctuary and one of the guys said, “The day has come, and we did not go”.

We were all scared and freaking out, for hours! Until one guy came in and said “but his hair shall grow to a certain length, then will he give us a second chance, those who weren’t taken before”. Then someone said “but we shall suffer here first”. Another said “because after all these years, after all these tests, you waited for a second chance. That is the price”.

I started reminiscing moments and different movies of watched on RAPTURE and how I’d be so focused on heaven, days after such encounters, then the urge faded in days. I thought and thought, and said “This must be a dream”. That was when someone said “it is as real as it gets”.

Someone asked me, “so are you scared?”, I answered YES. Another asked me, “do you think they would have done differently if they knew?” I couldn’t answer, because I couldn’t think straight. There was a 2yr old in the room!!!!

It was around 9pm when I looked at my watch. Then I heard a whisper, “I have a message for you”. That was when I woke up.

I froze in my bed for several minutes, effortlessly trying to remember every detail of the dream, yet it was all so vivid. Hot tears run down my cheeks with every scene flashing in my mind’s eye, in my dark room. Then I decided to pray.

I don’t want to miss the mark. I don’t want to wait for another chance, I wanted to be TAKEN too.

How would you have felt if you were in this dream? What would you have done differently after?

I’m guessing I’ll be awake till break of dawn. Truth is, I’m not sleepy anymore.

Being born again is not enough. Accepting Jesus as Lord and Saviour, loosening yourself hoping things will fall into place IS NOT ENOUGH; actually, that just the beginning of the journey. But how can you reach your destination if you’re stationed at the entrance when all you do is smile at the road and say “finally, I see the light“?

Today, August 1st 2015, I pray for your soul. We should meet in heaven.

Photography, Photoshop, Retouching – Phloshop LLC Photoshop Workshop

Certain photographers are of the view that, photographs like portraits that contain artistic and fine makeup do not necessarily require retouching. Some are also of the view that, retouching enhances the beauty of certain portraits and photographs in general.

There are artists and photographers who are particularly skilled in this expertise; photoshop and retouching. Ghanaian photographer and retoucher Joseph Carlyle Amoateng of Phloshop LLC brings to you a 1-day photography and photoshop workshop this September, captioned “PHOTOGRAPHY AND PHOTOSHOP WORKSHOP: The beginner’s guide to Retouching“.

Here is a look at the press release;

 It doesn’t matter how great a photographer you are, nearly every photograph can benefit from retouching, whether it’s to correct colour problems or make major changes to the subject or background.

Phloshop LLC is organizing a photography and retouching workshop for beginners and professionals. This workshop is a day’s immersion into Photography and Retouching designed specifically for photographers who are interested in learning the basics of lighting and executing beauty photo retouch for both commercial assignments or personal projects. As well as how to take their own photography to the next level with professional retouching techniques.

Photographers and designers will benefit from learning systematic professional routines taught in this workshop. You’ll also be challenged to identify retouching mistakes or faults, tackle makeup problems and dozens of photoshop correction features to help turn average portraits into stunners.

DO YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS ABOUT THIS WORKSHOP OR READY TO ENROLL?

•  Contact +233 268780780 (whatsapp only)
•  +233 207385899 (voice calls only)
•  Email: Phloshop.llc@gmail.com
•  Connect with Phloshop on Instagram @phloshop

NB: Date to be communicated soon.

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  Connect With Phloshop Instagram HERE!

• Connect with Phloshop on Facebook HERE!
  

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AFROTASTIC “BIG CHOP”

nfonin

AFROTASTIC 2015 (Natural hair and Beauty Expo) took place in Accra on 11th July ,2015. This year’s event discussed the theme “Good Hair, Bad Hair”  Focused on what characterizes good hair or bad hair in the Ghanaian society”. The event is the brain child of Naa Motsoo Allotey and Annette Akye. It was well attended and I witnessed one lady’s “BIG CHOP” as she transitioned from chemically processed hair to natural hair.

There was a breakout section for discussions.

BRIGHT ACKWERH treated guests to some live portraits sittings.

Other “Afrotastic 2015” photos and more on my page NII ODZENMA NFONINGRAPHY

Enjoy your week and stay positive 🙂

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Tales Of An Accra Taxi Driver (III) – The Night Rider

They call me ‘Night Rider’ because I work at night and I’m not afraid of anything! Sister, if I tell you the things I’ve seen and battled whiles driving at night, you will marvel. But I am not afraid of anything… Odeshi! Uhuh… that’s me, Night Rider.

Growing up, I watched African movies that involved drivers stumbling upon atrocious encounters with armed robbers and ghosts. Talk of superstition, it’s more alive than it was before. Whoever told you superstition is fading as a result of Western cultures, deceived you. I’d rather say it looks refined now.

Night Rider refused to tell me his actual name, but his nickname is cool enough, isn’t it?

As his name, he’s had quite unspeakable encounters, but he shared a few with me in the Twi language, of which I translated to English.

My friends praise me for my courageous acts, that’s how the name Night Rider got stuck on their tongues. It is no bragging matter, it is just who I am. I picked up one doctor from Kasoa to Teshie Tsui-Bleo one night. On our way, he started talking gibberish, so I asked him if he was okay, but he only told me to keep driving. About 10min later, he started speaking Ga, I stayed at La for over 15-years so I understand Ga quite well; he kept repeating these lines, “God, please forgive me, I can never give my mother to them… I can never give my mother to them… God please forgive me, I can never give my mother to them… I can never give my mother to them. She’d sacrificed too much, I can never give my mother to them”

All I could think of was ‘this man had gone in for Sakawa (blood money)’. I asked him again if he’s alright, and he told me he was going to tell his wife everything that night, but then could ‘never give his mother to them’. When I asked who he was referring to, he said, ‘I deserve to die, not my mother. But I am her only son, O! What have I done?! It was just once, they told me it was just once. O! What have I done?!’ So I asked him to confide in me since I was just a driver whom he’ll hardly see anyway. Just when he started to talk, he begun to cough. Sister, he coughed so hard we couldn’t calm it down. Hmph!  I parked to get some water from the nearest store, but anytime he drank some, he’d throw up with traces of blood. That was when I stopped to rush him home.

Long story short, his friend introduced him to a ‘Lodge’ when life hit him hard. He needed the money so he said, and had to ‘pay the price’ but this. This peculiar price demanded him to sacrifice his mother to reverse his impotence; same thing they took away from him on the first day. He left some documents with me and requested that I visited his house the day after to deliver them to his wife so they believe his story. The next day, I went there as agreed, and guess what, he was gone… dead!

Hmm…

A few days ago, at about 2am, I picked up a young woman who’s dressed like a prostitute, around Cantonments. She was a prostitute, actually. How did I know? She was on a call and I happen to eavesdrop. She talked about how smelly her client was and how she’d wasted her time pleasuring a pot-bellied man with a teeny-weeny thingy who passed out into sleep right after he’d ejaculated. She complained of how he’d drool and snore, and how she hated to deal with such uncertainties every weekend, but the money was good.

You cannot judge a book by its cover, they say, but you can by its prologue, obviously. Whatever the case, you’d have to look further than what you see, that is when you actually see.

For a man who saves lives everyday yet dying by the day, who would have thought he was killing aside saving? For the woman who’s selling her body, you’d never know her story till you ask. She wouldn’t be complaining if she loved her job, or would she?

We are all one,  so it makes no sense to point fingers and judge. Encourage someone when you can, and help if you can. My dear, what’s your name?

Akwele.

Ei! A true Ga woman. I like your hair. Natural lady eh? Nice. I’ll give you my number; call me anytime you need a taxi at night. Night Rider, don’t forget the name.

Who would?

 

 

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  Photography: Gerard Nartey

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