Posts Tagged ‘life’


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.


This is your cue, Edward.

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



Edward, say something.

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.



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!


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?


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?





O! There’s no need for a photo, I have friends on Facebook and that Insta-something-something… eh heh!

All other passengers had alighted at their destinations and I was left with the driver, Yakubu, who decided not to pick up anymore passengers for the rest of the day. When I asked why he didn’t want to make more money, he said,

”sweetheart, I drove a couple all night throughout Osu, and see, I am a Muslim, I am fasting”. (more…)

Let me tell you something little about the power of self esteem:

It’s one of the most powerful positions any individual can find themselves in. It either overwhelms you totally, else it doesn’t; that’s where it’s friendly, that’s where you have control over and can deal.

How do I explain this?

It’s not just like someone you love died, it’s like everything you ever felt, all the things you perceived and believed in died, and you’ll have to do things differently. You have no other option than to do things differently. Because whether that person chose to die, or was taken away naturally by the hands of time, perhaps a supernatural hand, he’s dead anyway.

This death I’m talking about isn’t the kind of natural departure in a man’s life cycle, it is that kind of death you witness taking over the life of the one you love, still living. If I had my way, I’d pretend as if nothing happened; I’ll let go, but this is hard for me.

We see it coming sometimes, other times, it just hits you so hard in the chest, surprisingly; it isn’t any experience you can get over overnight. It’s the kind of hurt that changes things… changes you.

This is my loss. This is how I feel, right about now, seated in the corner of my bedroom floor.

I feel the absence of love and it scares me.

Men have made decisions to stick to their jobs and other things that make them happy and for most of them, a woman by their side isn’t on the scale of preference. Sad. Perhaps it is the economy, or pressure from peers to make it to the top of the social class before finding a woman to commit to.

Heartbreak, we’ve all been there, maybe still there. But let’s face it; hearts get broken everyday, but life is beautiful. The soul purpose of life is living. It was rather be heartbreaking if everything else is put on hold because of an emotional breakdown. It can get really bad, but c’mon, c’est la vie!

Let me share this with you;

I cannot count the number of times I’ve either been rejected by a man or been left alone loving till a breakup (well, twice, for the latter). But it’s alright -actually it’s not, but I consciously disallow that to shape my worldview. Besides, I’m a talented  young exuberant woman; if I was to hold back whenever I broke down emotionally, or say ‘all men are the same. I won’t allow any man to distract my course again’, then I’ll be fooling myself. Nonetheless, I’ve learned from all encounters, I believe that’s how we grow and get stronger.

You’ll eventually be okay, so why not act okay till you are okay. Mind you, we’ve all got 24hrs at our disposal daily, yet there are legends amongst us, individuals leaving legacies for the next generation, and there is you.

You can start by appreciating your worth, loving yourself, the rest will come naturally.


There’s so much going on here, on the surface of the earth and even beyond. So much you can be a part of, yet so much you don’t need to be a part of. You can’t afford the luxury of laziness neither can you afford the luxury or being too involved, ‘too busy’, to miss out on what matters and all that’s beautiful.

It comes down to knowing what you you’re looking for, what you want, what you need, and where you’re going.

Animals, pets
A sense of belonging. You just can’t be alone. It hurts to be alone.

It’s that kind of hurt that magnifies as it morphs from emotional to physical, yes, I’ve been there and wouldn’t wish that for my worst enemy.

So why are you lonely? Why choose to be lonely?

You can do it all by yourself?
You’ve been hurt too many times?
Your past was dark?

Listen, you’re story as the worst because you haven’t heard another’s. Live. C’mon, please live because life is short. No one understands the brevity of life and why death seeks us so bad, even the innocent ones. But look at you; you’re breathing, you can even read this. Find something to believe in take steps to happiness. Make your soil happy and you’ll have nothing to complain about… at least not often.

I love you.


Photography: Nana Kofi Acquah