Archive for June, 2012

MY STAINS WON’T STAY

Posted: June 9, 2012 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , ,

Michael:
Do you have an option
You know you aren’t ready for the baby
It’s a totally different journey
A totally different world

Ewurama:
But I… I…

Michael:
Can’t keep it

Ewurama:
I… (Breathes hard)
I… (Buries face in her palms and sobs softly)

Michael:
Just turned 21
Is mom ready to know you’re sleeping around?

Ewurama:
(Unveils head slowly out of her palms and steals a glance at Michael with burning eyes)
Shut up!
Shut up if you can’t give me the truth in simple words without judging me
You are wounding rather than healing
You hypocrite! I’m tired of hearing your lines
All so pius and divine
I need peace
I need to stop denying myself
I need to stop seeing myself blemished because
I see you

Michael:
Oh Ewurama

Ewurama:
Are you not commanded to love me like yourself? Oh! Did I ever miss the part that says
“Love thy neighbour as you’d wish yourself be” Cos you see
My Bible is intact with no leaves out

Michael:
But I… I…

Ewurama:
Wasn’t sleeping around (takes a step closer)
Was sleeping with you (another step closer)
You! In your house (another step ahead)
You! Even after church service (pokes him hard in the chest)
You! Even when I’d to skip lectures (Pokes him harder on his chest)
You! You! You!

Michael:
(gets a grip of her arms and says slowly)
I know how you feel
But think about it
You have to abort
You can’t live with it

Ewurama:
That’s killing
That’s murder

Michael:
That… was fornication
That… was sin against God
And I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me
(Walks away from Ewurama)
I preach at youth service
I sing and people get healed
What if my life in the light
Reverses in the dark?
What if I get back home
And realised my closet’s now turned black?
What if…
(Michelle enters)

Michelle:
(Stunned at the sudden silence between Michael and Ewurama, asks)
Umm… I’m sorry, did I interrupts?

Michael:
(Sighs)

Ewurama:
I was gonna leave anyway
(Smiles at Michelle and picks up her bag. Walks to Michael and hugs him. Walking away, she turns back and steals a sad and remorseful glance at her boyfriend)

Michelle:
Are you ok? You look tensed
(Phone rings and she answers. Aside is Michael, staring at Michelle and talking to himself)

Michael:
Life would’ve been comfortable if I had her foot size
My shoes are getting tighter by the day
See how she walks freely
See how she smiles freely
See… She’s got it all worked out
And I get to be the evil one
(Silence)
How does she get to be so perfect
How does she do it?

Michelle:
Hey bro… Umm we need to talk
It’s been a while and I just thought it would be kinda beneficial on both sides to share a bit of closeness as siblings. As twins.

Michael:
Ok. Hey sis, I gotta run
(Walks over to the desks and starts piling a couple of documents)

Michelle:
(Aside)
How does he do it?
How does he get to be so perfect?
Permanent job
Godly relationship
I bet God smiles at him and frowns at me
Oh my! What have I done to myself?

Michael:
Gotta go sis. I’ll come pick you up after work so we hang out, ok? Love you sis (hugs her)

Michelle:
Love you to, bro. Hey, you could drop me off at Maame’s, right?

Michael:
Oh c’mon, where’s your car? There’s heavy traffic at 37… Ok, no more favours for this week. (Smiles)

Michelle:
(Smiles back) Thanks, bruv
(Both exit)

*****

Maame:
How did it go yesterday? Got the results?

Michelle:
The doctor confirmed it
I’ve got the disease
It’s a positive

Maame:
Oh no…

Michelle:
(Stands and takes a few steps away from Maame)
My life is a mess
Have I lived a lie
Maybe I just discovered less
Less of myself and afraid of the rest
(To the audience)
Listen hard
Listen to me
The me you see is the me I give
The me I give isn’t what He gave
Forgive me…
(Looks up)
Forgive me Father for I have sinned
Not for the coverteousness
Not for taking that man away from his wife and child
Just haven’t pushed harder I realised…
I just haven’t pushed harder
Yet my fears
Slowly crawling within the walls of my heart
Wipe all out now
And paint the new art
The art that will never part from this heart

Maame:
I wish I knew what to say
But I’m still here anyway
Everything will be alright in the end
If it’s not alright
It’s not the end

******

(Sitting opposite each other by a table at a restaurant and laughing)

Michael:
I got Ewurama pregnant and now she’ll have to abort

Michelle:
(Smile fades)
That’s murder, Michael!!

Michael:
That’s me having no option, Miss Perfect Twinnie

Michelle:
Miss Perfect Twinnie?
You’re kidding me
You’ve no idea what I have to struggle with every blessed day to stay sane
My life is messed up
And I can only trust you now
Funny how you’re my last option
(Sighs)
I’m dating a married man with a child

Michael:
Is this about mom and dad?
Cos they make me feel like staying a bachelor all my life

Michelle:
And I almost died 3 days ago after attempting suicide

Michael:
Michelle…!!

Michelle:
What has life got to offer
Better still what have I got to offer if I live
Pain
Anger
Remorse
I have HIV/AIDS, Michael

Michael:
MERCIFUL LORD!!!
No… No… No-No-No you can’t…
You can’t… You… Oh no
(Tears fill his eyes as he watches his sister who feels more or less like a living corpse. Thoughts rain loud in his head)
That’s my blood
I’ve known her all my life
And she’s my inspiration for living
Look at her
She’s gonna be gone in some months… years… I’m gonna lose my other half
I’m gonna lose my twin sister
Oh Jesus, please help me
Help us

Michelle:
I don’t know how a God so supreme and so pure would use me
A dirty and messed up girl who has nothing to give
I’m almost dead anyway

Michael:
I’m not as perfect too, sis
Silly how we ended up needing each other after years of thinking we could hold it together
We were made for each other
We came together
Any other reason to stay apart?
I’m here for you
And I’m not gonna lose you
I can’t live life fully if I don’t have you
(Takes her by the hand)
I’m here for you

Michelle:
What if the sun doesn’t rise and set for me tomorrow?
What if I’m just that girl who had limited chances and blew them up and have no chance with life at all?
What if…

Michael:
What if nothing…
We’re gonna make this work
Rededicate our lives to God at church
We can’t change the past but can touch lives with our gifts
Share your testimony at church and with friends, write about it, share your experience and let them know your present state and how merciful God can be; he’s still using you. Let them know that yes, the flesh is stubborn and contradicts to the spirit yet God, just as he breathed life and spirit into man, only looks deep down into the spirit and not at the temporary fleshy nature. We can make this work, Michelle, we can do this, together. Let’s just make God happy, at least with the rest of the time we have.

(Michael’s phone rings)

Michael:
Hey Ewurama…
Oh ok, hello Mrs. Koomson…
Uhuh… Yes, I… I…
Oh my God! Oh my!!
(Hangs up)
She… She killed herself. She’s dead, Mich, my girlfriend is… (She moves from her seat to console her brother with a hug) She’s gone… I… I killed my Ewurama and my unborn child… I…

(Scene fades)

The itch at my back needs a different hand to scratch it
Bold, masculine
Clean, black
That’s the way I like it
Hairy at the back of his palm
A week old grown manicure
That’s the kind of hand my itch prefers

I want to be free
Free from this itch
I want to be free
Free from this hurt
I want to have peace
Scratch me… Oh scratch me
And put my itch at ease

The itch at my back is my crime
Come let’s dance to a tune to kill it
No, it wont be murder
We will only kill for peace
Kill this itch and make me free

I want to be free
Free from the shadows I see in me
Free from the pain that entangles me
Make me free
Ease my itch
Make me free
Kill my itch… kill me

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 by 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 lover 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 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 invites at 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 before I left, “…remember, this is Ghana oo…”

KEEP ME ALIVE

Posted: June 5, 2012 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , ,

Shut up!
Shut up if you can’t give me the truth in simple words without judging me
You are wounding rather than healing

Shut up!
Oh hypocrite you!
I’m tired of hearing your lines
All so pious and divine

I need peace
I need to stop denying myself
I need to dream with my eyes open
I need to stop seeing myself blemished because I see you

Are you not commanded to love me like yourself?
Oh! Did I ever miss the part that says
“Love thy neighbor as you’d wish yourself be”
Cos you see
My Bible is intact with no leaves out

Tell me I am unclean but will be made whole
I’ll understand
Tell me it’s not easy but I’ll make it through
It’s ok with me
Tell me what I need to hear and not what you have to say
That’s when I’ll feel loved

Who is the murderer?
The one who shot me in self defense
Or the one who refused to keep me alive
Shame on you!
You’ve got blood in your hands
Who’s guilty now?

I am in your life
My life in your hands
Try to keep me alive
Unless you want my blood on your head