Archive for January, 2015



No one but I call him Henry. It’s fun to spontaneously do little things that leave memorable marks with friends. It spices up the relationship and makes them somewhat special.

The first day I met Vincent, Henry, he had a striking resemblance to another friend, Henry, who also happens to be a photographer. I was flummoxed by the resemblance so much that I kept calling him Henry until he got irritated and realized I wouldn’t stop calling him by that name. “You won’t stop calling me Henry, will you?”


Our friendship isn’t the closest but is that kind of friendship that would never die. I can rely on Henry for constructive criticisms and realistic discussions. We discuss food too.

Henry, I haven’t forgotten about the food date we planned last year. We’ve both gotten busy over the few months but it will definitely happen within the first quarter of 2015. Hit me up when you read this; let’s plan.



She wasn’t my friend, rather a friend’s friend, but it hit me so hard as if she was my sister. I was hurt. I was angry. I still am.

Suicide doesn’t kill, it’s sadness and depression and the thought that all hope is lost. But how would I know a friend is depressed when she wears a smile everyday and asks to copy the latest movie series? How would I know when she’s defensive about her Facebook statuses not being a projection of her true state of mind?

God, I pray, if there’s something I might’ve said to someone or perhaps something I’m not saying, have mercy and keep them alive. I don’t want to lose my friends, not this way… Having them to take their own lives!!!

It would surprise you what causes an individual to take his own life. As wrong as it is, let’s not be judgmental. Let us rather reflect on our lives and figure out how to keep those we have to prevent such tragedy from occurring.

The heart is a delicate organ. It is the heart that loves, not the mind. It is the heart that can break, not the mind. Yet, it’s unfair how the mind can make such a decision when it sees the heart in such condition. It is unfair.

You should never be too busy to listen. You can never be that clean to point her as immensely flawed. Be there for her. Listen to him.

Your smile can save a life. Your ‘hello’ can save a life. Your prayer can heal a soul, eternally.


I thought I was cool until I remembered plants eat the sun and poop out air! I thought I was picky until I saw a dog look for a place to poop.

Maybe I’m cool after all, I poop with style. You Pin while you poop too, don’t you? Facebook? Tweet? Whatsapp? But what if there was no smart phone in our time? Ooouu… Pooping would be 100% boring, doubtlessly.

The plan was just to pee, but then I felt a fart on it’s way, the kind of fart you definitely cannot trust. I was confused: to poop or not to poop, that is the question. It’s 23:55 exactly, and I had no idea what my decision was. I certainly wouldn’t want to be pooping at midnight, that would’ve just been… weird. You’ve got to admit, you feel relieved when you poop. It’s even fun when you’re naked with a book or your phone.

I did it. I finally did it… Flushed the toilet before midnight. I pooped before midnight.

Who says pooping isn’t awesome? Try constipation.

MUA Trials

Posted: January 24, 2015 in Uncategorized
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Trial make-up by M'adjoa

You don’t have to wear make-up everyday. Make-up is an art, and art is beautiful. Obviously, not everyone can master that art.

There are countless MUAs (Make-up Artists) on the block today. Equally, they are uncountable photographers. But that isn’t a bad thing, is it?

M’adjoa is a new MUA who I’ll be modelling for the next weekend; she called for a trial session this afternoon and it was fun.

I admire her humility and zeal for perfection. ‘oh no! The other eyebrow looks bigger’, hahaha that was funny. You should’ve seen her gesture when she said that. Despite how she feels about how work, she’s primarily concerned about how I feel in her work as well. She kept asking, ‘do you feel ok?’ ‘are you comfortable in it?’

I don’t know too many MUAs in Ghana, but I love the works of Hamid Vijay, Lawrencia Owusu, and Hajia Alfa, and I’m excited about M’adjoa‘s passion already. I can’t wait for the shoot next Saturday.

Menstrual Cramps

Menstrual Cramps

For every period cramps a woman experiences, a man should be kicked in the balls, that  should be fair. It’s fine that Ms Uterus throws temper tantrums when Ms Ovaries decided to lay eggs. But why should I be the one to suffer?

Well, I’m sorry for not getting you pregnant, Ms Uterus.

Why periods? Can’t I just get a notification or sms saying, ‘hey chica, just passing by to make sure you’re good. All clear, see you next month’

Does it have to be violent? Violence is never the answer.

Ok… ok, let’s come to an agreement, all 3 of us. Whatever monthly issues you have with yourselves, leave me out of it. I want my appetite back. You can keep the heavy and tender breasts but take away the pain. You make me feel like Satan’s twin brother’s twisting a two-edged knife inside of me. Are you not a part of me?


Posted: January 22, 2015 in Uncategorized
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He speaks English with inappropriate grammar and a fake American accent. He speaks it with so much pride and confidence that it’s almost unbelievable that he’s unsure of his words.

Where did he get that accent from?? It’s irritating when people speak with fake accents. As if that isn’t enough, he’s a terrible liar; not in a good way, as in you can easily tell he’s lying, only that he talks too much and eventually gives it all away.

He’ll probably read this some time so its safer I don’t go into details but gosh! He can lie!!!

We all tell lies but don’t you think it’s a little bit overwhelming when someone fabricates stories and tells them so well that it eventually consumes them. In such, they’re convinced their lie is true therefore tell it flawlessly. They say a lie told a thousand times becomes truth.


It gets better. He says “I know I’ve got many faults, but I’m an honest person, that I know”.

Yeah! I know that too.


Growing up, I had no toys, dolls, even teddy bears by my bedside. It wasn’t a big deal because I didn’t watch TV enough to realize other kids owned them.

Since I learned to lay my bed even till now, Mama says, ‘keep your room clean and don’t wear black to sleep, the angels won’t like that’. Surprisingly, I’d been laying white bedsheets till I got my apartment in Accra, Darkuman, very dusty area.

She said I’d to bath before I sleep else the angels won’t come closer.

She said I’d to wear white outfits to sleep for a clean and calm ambience, although I was permitted to wear brighter colours sometimes. I had a lot of white singlets then.

She said I must brush my teeth before going to bed in case I yawn right beside an angel.

Truth was, I believed all that, because Mama said it.

I woke up this morning in a red dress.


If he’s got the packs, he’s disciplined enough.

Which girl prefers a pot bellied man to a ‘firm-bellied’ one? It’s a matter of preference, isn’t it?

‘Dayum, dude!’, was my first impression at viewing this photo. It’s a good thing to be fit and look healthy, but when the gains begin to show, that gets undeniable attention.

Workout has become a fashion lately. It’s all over social media; how you should lose fat instead of losing the weight, how the white girls are getting the booty from squats and planks, how it looks great rocking a bikini effortlessly because she’s got the packs! Did you see the Victoria Secret Models on the runway recently? Jaw dropping.

It’s sexy.
You’re confident, obviously.
You get the attention.
You can wear anything.
Who wouldn’t want that??

Personally, I enjoy working out and staying fit; I do it when I can, because I want to live long and stay sexy, even more, confident in my own body.

If he’s got the packs, it won’t be boring running those fingers on that belly. Hah!

If he can work it, he can work it out! Mmhhh-hmm.


Posted: January 20, 2015 in Uncategorized


Beginning tonight, I’ll let you in on every one of my appropriate thoughts and adventurous acts.

This will be fun… Well, so I think. Yay! Let’s get writing.

Social media for good!


Photograph by Dextdee Photography

I’m here and there with tissue paper under my eyes to soak the tears in case I cry after realizing I was picked by two smart guys.

It happened last night, at Circle, in Accra when I thought, wisely, I’d caught a pickpocket in the act. The victim was obviously unaware, but the thief saw me; I gave him an awkward look. Guess what he said to me, “this is even nothing… Waste of time”. He spoke English, in oversized tattered clothes. Apparently, he got a pack of Mentos Gum with a bundle of keys.

But it was a decoy. I have to admit, that was smart. Impressive. That, on the other hand, made me feel dumb.

Why didn’t I just mind my own business and walk away? I could’ve clearly avoided looking at him and giving him that 5sec awkward look. Did I cause this??

The tissue paper is still dry under my eyes.

Darn! It hurts to lose one’s own item, no matter the magnitude of it.