A girl for KNUST SRC President

To start, I am not a feminist but I respect women.  I believe the world has never been fair to women and sometime our objectification of women is something we have been socialized with when we were young and must never continue.
We have trained women to believe that marriage is the most important. I believe marriage is a source of joy and (to some extent completeness) but lets face the fact, women are not only articles for male satisfaction. A woman, like a man, should be allowed to express whatever she has and want without she being reminded of her 'gender.'
When I heard a lady was standing for SRC president in KNUST, I was very much impressed. I said to myself, this lady, must be and should be a strong woman. I never thought I was going to ever meet her but you see, fate has a funny way of drawing people closer.
We had a discussion on phone and I realised how strong she was. To be honest, whenever we speak on phone, I don't see her as a woman. I see her as someone who is going to contest for SRC president.
When people ask me why I support a lady, I tell them, I support her based on principles. For people who know me, they will attest to the fact that I may be loud on social media but in real life, I am rarely angry. There was a time, I was speaking to this person (I don't know him and I don't still want to know),he made some really disparaging remarks about her and about me even choosing to support a lady when I had a bright career ahead of me. I told him that he is very stupid and if he ever has a daughter she should never train her to be inferior because she's female.
I have no problem with a man being a leader and I have no issue with a female being a leader. My principle is one -- we vote or support people based on issues and competence, I don't even believe that gender is an obstruction to self development.
We shrink women and we run them down but we forget is that we were given birth to by a woman, what we also fail to realise that we are going to marry a woman and if you can't stand a woman ruling you, then your mother has suffered just to give birth to you for you to run her gender down.
During her campaign,she told me of how student we are using our scarce natural resources to train, shout at her with very degrading comments. How can a university student who we agree is a future leader say "A lady de3 apart from sex what is she good for?" Really your mother is only good for sex. I saw to my horror, someone sit down, type on his/her computer a notice that she is stinking because as a woman she menstruates and hence she's dirty? Eei, this is the kind of leaders, Ghanaians are training and yet people believe that students are at the university learning things to help mother Ghana. There's a big difference propaganda and stupidity, until you know it, don't waste your time trying to bring someone down because you know what? Blowing someone candle doesn't make yours brighter.
Seriously,I don't even see what male SRC presidents do when elected that a female SRC president can't do.
Yet, she is a strong woman and has been able to walk through the storm. If you are in KNUST vote for Emmanuella Elipklim Katahena as SRC president, she is number 6 and she will never disappoint you.
JYF

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#AshawoLane

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If you need me,
I will be at my favorite spot
Striped naked
Ready to give you a taste of my
Brown chocolate.




If you need me,
I will be standing at my favorite lane
With my phantom wanting
Of being with you through the night
Even if that will be the first and the last time
We will ever see each other.




At my favorite lane,
I meet politicians,
I meet the sick
But never have I met
The righteous and pure in heart.




I have built my dreams
In the thighs of women
(Or perhaps others did)
Now it has shut me in it
And I can no longer express
The person I wanted to be
When I was young.




If hope was a bird
I would have been a cage
But since both of us are none
I will just stand here
Strip off my last cloth of self respect
And hope someone sees beyond
My shame.




If you need me,
I will be at the #AshawoLane
It's not so difficult to find me.




On every night
Half of Ghana
Drink on my thighs.




But
In the day,
My shame is all over me
Like a rash.

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IF Hope was an ocean (co-written by Kodwo Hybrid)

If Hope was an ocean 

Ghana would have been a landlocked country! 

I have known Ghana 

And she has known me. 

In all these years we had known each other,

I used to believe like she did 

That she will one day be as beautiful as she was meant to be

But time has told me in a baritone voice that 

It never will

Yet my heart refuses to accept this stark reality.

If hope was a dry land

Ghana would have been a waterlogged region

I have known Ghana

The beautiful seashells on the coast

The evergreen vegetation on the northern belt 

A bundle of joy and humanity rising from the east

The gold and oil dripping from the corners of the western sun

I have known these lands

the same way the soil knows these grounds 

Yet, I'm unable to fix the puzzle 

She's unable to rise from the ashes of all these..

On the crossroads, 

I join the birds to hum 

and sway my head along the gentle melody.

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Serialized Novel: Tabitha 2.2

She couldn’t believe it, she thought it was those random numbers who were calling to make fun of her poor heart, she was about to ask for more information when she saw her husband push his son to the floor and advancing towards her. It then dawned on her that despite the caller not following the right protocol in telling her about the death of her children, the news was true after all. 

She began to see fading images of her world and there she laid on the ground motionless! In her subconscious mind she asked God to explain to her why should a misfortune should happen to her. She laid on the ground and despite she having fainted, tears began to stream from her eyes.

She woke up later and she felt pains in her waist and face. She had to struggle to open her eyes. It felt blocked by some materials, her eyes felt so heavy to open and when she was finally able to open her left eye, she saw that she was in a strange people. She looked around and saw her son, John asleep by her side. She tried lifting her left hand to touch her and she realized that it was much heavier than her left eye. It then began to dawn on her that she was at the hospital and might have been battered up by her husband.

“John! John! John!” she called her son in a suppressed voice because that was all she could manage to voice out.

John jerked up and moved to hold his mother. He like her mother had bruises all over his eyes and looked badly injured at the face.

“Don’t tell me your father did this to us” she said in almost a whisper.

He shook his head and all he could manage to do was to cry. He sat on the door and started weeping. He looked away and took a handkerchief to wipe his tears. He tried to look at his mother again and more tears started streaming down his face. He stood up and paced the room

“That bastard will rot in jail, I promise you that!”

“Noooo, please don’t do this John, you are a good person. Don’t tell me, you let them arrest your father.”

John replied facing the window almost in tears “I will let him pay! We’ve allowed him for years, this was his Waterloo. I’m so sad that my brothers and sister are not alive to see this.”

He broke down on his knees and started to weep uncontrollable. Madam Jane stretched her name towards the direction he was kneeling, she tried to move further but rolled over the bed and fell. She gave a high pitched scream. The door flew open and a nurse entered. She looked at the scene and moved to help Madam Jane get back on the bed. 

“Thank God, you are awake. Your family members want to see you” the nurse spoke.

“They are still here? I thought I made it clear to them that my mother was not seeing them?”

“John, you didn’t do that did you?”

“I did. I don’t want them to bother you. It is that sister of daddy and his three brothers”

“I am sure your mother is of age and can decide whether she wants to see them or not” the nurse replied and headed towards the gate “Should I bide them in?”

“Please do”

John opened his mouth in amusement, he stood there waiting for exactly the right word to say but none of which came to mind. He looked the room as if it had suddenly become too small for him – the room had just a small bed, a small metal rusty metal cabinet which was loaded with foodstuff and assorted items, there was also the ceiling fun whose job only annoyed than to provide comfort!

A knock was heard at the door, “John can you please get the door?”

“If I could I wouldn’t”

“Please come in” Madam Jane tried to shout but it was barely audible even to her own ears.

“Did you say come in?” a voice inquired from outside

“Please do” she tried to scream again

This was a useless adventure because from the weakness of her voice, there was no way it could penetrate behind those thick cement walls, so John stood up and opened the door. The owner of the voice entered and he was shorter and hairier than Mr. Afriyie, to be honest, John didn’t like him either and if he was under duress to choose between him and the devil as an uncle or a father, he would have chosen the latter. 

“Jane, I hope I didn’t disturb your sleep at all? Can you excuse us John?”

“No please”

“John, please be kind and let me and your Uncle privately”

“I wish I could”

“It’s okay he can stay if he wants to”

John smiled and took a seat at the right side of her mother. He looked keenly at his uncle as if he expected him to say something trashy. His hatred for Uncle Paul Afriyie was profound; he came across as a sniveling person and was never satisfied with anything. All his memories of him were of sad one, he gave no gifts and he always had this look which seemed to repel people away. Once, he came to live in their house for a week and he remembered that there was no minute or actually second that he didn’t wish he was gone and never to come back. That was the longest week ever! Nothing could satiate him, he found either the water boiled for him too hot or too cold, we found the fufu either too soft or too hard, the rice too wet or too dry or at best to smoky. The day that he finally left, he felt that a heavy load had been lifted of their house, it was same for everybody – even his father who had lived with him for all his life! 

“Jane, your husband is in Prison”

“I just learnt so”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“My mother is not a prison officer!”

Paul turned and looked at his nephew in an angry face. He slowly started to stand up from his seat, he was trembling ad he looked like he was about o strike his nephew. John equally stood up in a similar fashion.

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