I’ve always been of the opinion that clichés are played out for the reason they usually are. For instance: “What doesn’t kill you will make you stronger”- Scientifically, if a disease doesn’t kill, it is believed that you build immunity to it naturally making you stronger. So similarly, if the weight of a solution doesn’t burden you to death, you’ll learn from it, next time it arises, you’ll be better prepared for it…isn’t that you being stronger?
So it comes as no surprise that our personal relationships [especially when we have to end it], are filled with these so called clichés. So are these clichés played out or real talk?
“We need to talk.” People, this is not a warning sign that we will break up soon, it means we need to talk. Yeah right, we talk all the time but maybe this is more serious than our usual banter so yeah we need to talk! It might be because we’re breaking up…or because my mother thinks my girlfriend’s skirts get shorter and shorter…bottom line, we need to talk…be patient enough to listen.
The classic [my personal favorite] line people use during break ups- “It's not you, it's me”… I do agree that it’s a little played out cuz most of the male species hide behind it all the time[ y’all know what I am talking about] but then genuinely sometimes it’s not you, it’s me! Maybe I need to rethink our relationship, or maybe I need to do some work on myself that I genuinely cannot do with you in the picture or maybe I am just not interested anymore. Whatever the reason is, it really isn’t you...is that so hard to believe?
“I think we would be better off friends” Again, a little played out but I might like you as a person but I am not attracted to you anymore. I do still want you in my life but as a friend. Would you rather I pretended I was still interested and cheated on you? Or would prefer to be in my life as a friend? If you really do “love” me [that’s a whole new topic], wouldn’t you be satisfied being my friend? You can still love me, just as my friend. Or in the case where we’re the closest of friends, I tell you everything but I don’t get excited kissing you anymore, wouldn’t we be better off friends? Asking you to stay friends when you feel strongly about them is unfair to you but the truth hurts sometimes.
“We just grew apart “- Now this is just played out. It is my humble opinion that nobody just grows apart. Puh-lease, the signs were there. You saw them and ignored them. You read the writings on the wall and did nothing; I used to call you five times a day, now you’re lucky if I call once. Hello? That’s a sign! I used to tell you every single detail of my life, we’re having monosyllabic conversations now and you don’t notice? So no, we didn’t just grow apart; it was a process we allowed to happen!!!
“I don’t think I am ready for a commitment”…excuse my French but this is crap! If you’re not ready, let me be. Don’t lead me on and leave me hanging. If I am walking by and you think “oh she’s cute, I want to get with her”, don’t give me the impression that getting with me means a relationship when it means sex. It translates into “Can I waste years and years of your life, while I party and have fun, and drag you along incase I'm bored or lonely?” That is just plain wrong! The only thing good about this line, is that they aren't keeping you on a string, and cheating behind your back, they are giving you the option to walk away, in letting you know they only date to have fun. Use that option!
“You can do better than me/You're too good for me.” Definitely played out! It usually means “I am looking around, because you're not the one.” If you are fed this line, the best thing is to learn from it. This person clearly isn't into you, and doesn't want to look like the bad guy. So they are trying to get out of the relationship as cowardly as possible. So forget about it, just smile sweetly and chalk it up, "Yep, come to mention it, I am too good for you. Thanks for pointing that out to me." Word!!
The penultimate in my opinion, “We need some space/ let's take a break. Simply put:” I want to date other people, but I'd like to keep you around in case it doesn't work out.” Also very played out my friend. Be a man or a woman and end it! You should be wise enough and strong to just let them go. If they are to the point of saying that, chances are that they are already looking for prospects, and you're just going to get hurt if you don't agree with them. There's a good chance they are trying to keep you on a line, in case the other relationship doesn't pan out. If you are breaking up with someone or having a normal basic conversation, just be honest with them, and tell them the truth. Leaving them hanging is, wrong, wrong, wrong. The truth can hurt no matter how you slice it, but it hurts worse when you don't know it. Do them a favour and tell them why, so they have closure and can move on, too. Some real talk!
Friday, December 18, 2009
REALITY SHOW AT NIMA POLICE STATION
So it was a Friday and I could almost taste the spices on the freshly fried chicken wings along with that cold, crisp refreshing taste of the eighth wonder of the world many prefer to call “Star Beer”. I had had a long week and I couldn’t wait till the day was over so I could meet the guys over at Honey Suckle.
In effect, I ignored the constant honking of the tro-tro drivers on that junction on my way to work and the buzzing of that mulish fly who was determined to distract my attention from Kojo Oppong Nkrumah’s Super Morning Show. My body was driving the car but my soul was already adrift on that ninth cloud I call “TGIF” (Thank God It’s Friday). Little did I know that the forces of destiny had a different Friday to offer all together.
I got to work exactly at 7.55am only to be told that I was wanted at the Nima Police station. What! Why? Were my exact words. Apparently I was a suspect in a theft that had taken place the night before and by virtue of being the last man to leave the premises I was labeled “suspect”. (Remind me never to go for the best employee award).
So being the law abiding citizen my earlier days as a boys scout had thought me, I proceeded to file my statement at Ghana’s most notorious Police station. Contrary to what I have been made to believe about the said venue, Nima police station was a pot of laughter. In the four hours that I was kept waiting at the charge office I could have been rich for life if only I remembered to bring my camera.
All of a sudden, my predicament did not matter to me any longer. I was hugely engrossed in the events at the station. First, there was that corporal who was brandishing a huge stick around the charge office and upon asking what he was doing I was told it was the morning ritual for rookies. I was a bit perplexed. Why would someone be running around the place carrying a stick for no reason? It was then that I saw the hosts of heaven being unleashed from one corner of the room and everything became clear. “MICE”, the corporal was chasing mice out of the office. With all the other policemen going about the morning normally, I was sure this was no new thing to the department.
Then came the morning complaints. A woman came in around 9.00am to report a case of abuse against her husband. Judging from the looks and the structure of the woman, her husband would have to be a bull to be able to touch a strand of hair on her head.
Her husband was brought in after about half an hour and my was it hilarious. There he stood in all his glory; this gentleman couldn’t weigh 10kg if his life depended on it.
The true version of the story in accordance to the husband’s verbal statement was that, he had been a victim of constant rape and abuse from his loving wife. Even when he said no, his deer wife would play with his (censored) till he was hard then rape him all day. The night before, he could not rise to the occasion despite several tricks. That was when his wife got angry and bit hard into his (censored). Now his wife says he abuses her.
Just as I began recovering from the laughter that had driven me to cry and just before I was granted permission to leave, in walked a goat. It was closely followed by a constable. The case? Theft in a cornfield. Suspect? Mr. Goat. An angry landlord had come to lock up the goat of one of his tenants because it was caught chewing the corn in his cornfield. To add to the already funny situation, the lawyer at the charge office walked right to the goat and asked “how do you plead”. Right then the goat bleated out “mmeeh”. I am sure it was saying not guilty in response.
In effect, I ignored the constant honking of the tro-tro drivers on that junction on my way to work and the buzzing of that mulish fly who was determined to distract my attention from Kojo Oppong Nkrumah’s Super Morning Show. My body was driving the car but my soul was already adrift on that ninth cloud I call “TGIF” (Thank God It’s Friday). Little did I know that the forces of destiny had a different Friday to offer all together.
I got to work exactly at 7.55am only to be told that I was wanted at the Nima Police station. What! Why? Were my exact words. Apparently I was a suspect in a theft that had taken place the night before and by virtue of being the last man to leave the premises I was labeled “suspect”. (Remind me never to go for the best employee award).
So being the law abiding citizen my earlier days as a boys scout had thought me, I proceeded to file my statement at Ghana’s most notorious Police station. Contrary to what I have been made to believe about the said venue, Nima police station was a pot of laughter. In the four hours that I was kept waiting at the charge office I could have been rich for life if only I remembered to bring my camera.
All of a sudden, my predicament did not matter to me any longer. I was hugely engrossed in the events at the station. First, there was that corporal who was brandishing a huge stick around the charge office and upon asking what he was doing I was told it was the morning ritual for rookies. I was a bit perplexed. Why would someone be running around the place carrying a stick for no reason? It was then that I saw the hosts of heaven being unleashed from one corner of the room and everything became clear. “MICE”, the corporal was chasing mice out of the office. With all the other policemen going about the morning normally, I was sure this was no new thing to the department.
Then came the morning complaints. A woman came in around 9.00am to report a case of abuse against her husband. Judging from the looks and the structure of the woman, her husband would have to be a bull to be able to touch a strand of hair on her head.
Her husband was brought in after about half an hour and my was it hilarious. There he stood in all his glory; this gentleman couldn’t weigh 10kg if his life depended on it.
The true version of the story in accordance to the husband’s verbal statement was that, he had been a victim of constant rape and abuse from his loving wife. Even when he said no, his deer wife would play with his (censored) till he was hard then rape him all day. The night before, he could not rise to the occasion despite several tricks. That was when his wife got angry and bit hard into his (censored). Now his wife says he abuses her.
Just as I began recovering from the laughter that had driven me to cry and just before I was granted permission to leave, in walked a goat. It was closely followed by a constable. The case? Theft in a cornfield. Suspect? Mr. Goat. An angry landlord had come to lock up the goat of one of his tenants because it was caught chewing the corn in his cornfield. To add to the already funny situation, the lawyer at the charge office walked right to the goat and asked “how do you plead”. Right then the goat bleated out “mmeeh”. I am sure it was saying not guilty in response.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
ADVENTURES OF AN AGEING CLUBBER
So out of severe boredom, last Saturday night I decided to tag along with a couple of male friends to a club recently opened in the city of Accra. Due to my newly evolved self I proudly call “The Matured Mr. Page” I had decided not to indulge in any wild clubbing for fear of my ageing health.
Dear reader, you will be amazed at what you can decipher from sitting alone at the bar of the club just observing.
First of all, there was the bar man who kept insisting from customer to customer that there was no change for any denomination of cedi the already half drank consumers used to purchase their drinks. Funny enough by the time I was leaving, I could see various shades of the new Ghana Cedi sticking out from underneath a mat behind the counter. So I proceeded to buy a bottle of water only to be told after handing him five Cedis, “there is no change”.
Then there was that awfully dressed bloke that was burnt on “getting some” that night. He hopped from lady to lady, woman to woman but finally settled for the hooker who was the source of the tobacco fumes filling the already stale air.
How could I forget the muscled man with “security” broadly written across the back of his shirt? How he cracked me up that night. After hours of observing that this security guy was not moving from the pillar near the toilet, I walked over to find out why. This man had managed to sleep amid all the noise with a mean, firm face that had made me believe the whole time, he was looking out for trouble makers from behind those really dark shades.
Finally there was the greater sect of the merry makers that night; the dancers. Young men and women kept moving awkwardly to a rhythm I strongly believe did not go in tune with the music being played. The ladies seemed to be largely content with what was in front of the guys’ zipper whiles the men were very interested in the behinds of the females. The movements simply looked like something from a porn movie but only with clothes on.
So before I sign out, could somebody please answer this question for me? Aren’t those roundly shaped, plastic thingy worn over the eyes meant to protect the retina from sun rays? And if the majority of the ladies and gents in the club did not know that fact, didn’t the product read sun glasses when they purchased them? Well perhaps they could all be fugitives trying to hide their true identities, aren’t we all. Why else will you go to the club if not to do the things you cannot do in broad day light?
Dear reader, you will be amazed at what you can decipher from sitting alone at the bar of the club just observing.
First of all, there was the bar man who kept insisting from customer to customer that there was no change for any denomination of cedi the already half drank consumers used to purchase their drinks. Funny enough by the time I was leaving, I could see various shades of the new Ghana Cedi sticking out from underneath a mat behind the counter. So I proceeded to buy a bottle of water only to be told after handing him five Cedis, “there is no change”.
Then there was that awfully dressed bloke that was burnt on “getting some” that night. He hopped from lady to lady, woman to woman but finally settled for the hooker who was the source of the tobacco fumes filling the already stale air.
How could I forget the muscled man with “security” broadly written across the back of his shirt? How he cracked me up that night. After hours of observing that this security guy was not moving from the pillar near the toilet, I walked over to find out why. This man had managed to sleep amid all the noise with a mean, firm face that had made me believe the whole time, he was looking out for trouble makers from behind those really dark shades.
Finally there was the greater sect of the merry makers that night; the dancers. Young men and women kept moving awkwardly to a rhythm I strongly believe did not go in tune with the music being played. The ladies seemed to be largely content with what was in front of the guys’ zipper whiles the men were very interested in the behinds of the females. The movements simply looked like something from a porn movie but only with clothes on.
So before I sign out, could somebody please answer this question for me? Aren’t those roundly shaped, plastic thingy worn over the eyes meant to protect the retina from sun rays? And if the majority of the ladies and gents in the club did not know that fact, didn’t the product read sun glasses when they purchased them? Well perhaps they could all be fugitives trying to hide their true identities, aren’t we all. Why else will you go to the club if not to do the things you cannot do in broad day light?
Sunday, December 13, 2009
THE POWER THAT YOU WIELD
Why is it that society often associate people of immense power and authority with wealth and high social status? Why must I believe that to command so much power I need to be President or the leader of a formidable force of some sort? Why must we grow up thinking that we are achievers only when we attain money, power and respect, especially in that order? And why are you reading this blog if you already know where that Power lies.
I was recently confronted with a situation, where a decision I made and the subsequent action I took, affected the life of someone very dear to me. The emotional turmoil she went through affected the lives of four other people and who is to know how these four members affected others. In my little corner of the world, I was simply conveying my feelings through a complex system of fiber optics someone in their own ingenuity termed “text message”. I let lose words that will cut through the iciest of hearts, words that conveyed so much hurt and pain, the blades of a guillotine slashing through the neck of a convicted felon in comparison, will feel like a walk in the park. You will ask me why? The answer is simple, I was just angry.
Its funny how anger can make you do the craziest of things but well…That’s a topic for another day.
All I am simply drawing attention to is how often we forget the immense power we have. We go through the day forgetting the number of lives we have touched in one way or the other. The money you put in the pocket of the maker of that tooth brush you used in the morning, probably helped him pay for his kid’s tuition. That “good morning” u said to that old lady whiles driving to work, was probably all it tool for her to know she was not lonely and that free text message “I have missed you, Please call me” that MTN graciously gives away did more wonders than you can ever imagine.
In philosophy, Power is described as a measure of an entity's ability to control the environment around itself, including the behavior of other entities. So you see, u need not be Gandhi to bring world Peace, you need not be Nelson Mandela to bring total African Liberation and you certainly don’t have to be Obama to effect change. We are powerful in our own way, we are powerful because the decisions we make daily affect masses. Be careful what you say today, be careful what you do tonight, be careful what you read and write on these blogs because between you and I, there is that power that we wield.
Friday, December 11, 2009
LONG DISTANCE
I recently had a bout with that familiar word I will not dread on anyone who wishes to have a long committing relationship. I thought I was immune to that canker that prides itself on ripping so many relationships apart. Whether be it friendship, family, marriage or simply a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship, distance has known to work its magic.
It’s funny because in my previous relationship (boyfriend-girlfriend if you are all wandering) it was this all too popular friend or should I say foe that dealt me my first broken heart. (Still don’t know if it was the real one because I recovered too quick) Though much of the fault was mine, if “Ms. Distance” happens to find his cousin “Long”, boy- oh- boy! Your relationship is set firm on rocky waters.
Lately, due to the immense time I have found on my side, I decided to take a walk down memory lane to find out why I have all of a sudden become a loner. It then occurred to me that out of the five people (If I forgot you please forgive me) I can proudly call friends I have lost four to “Long Distance”. I only hear from them on Birthday’s and Christmas, that makes it twice a year and when we make the occasional acquaintance we rarely have anything to talk about.
If you will remember I said four friends that means, “L.D” was kind enough to spare me one. Huh! Kind, that is one word distance has no knowledge about and if you consider that they share just two letters (out of the 26) in common, then you will understand why they are far from friends.
The one person left who I can completely be myself with, who I can say is my soul mate (if there ever is a thing like that), and who knows all the details of every passing moment in my life is now under the spell of “LD”.
It all begins with the first jab distance often throws; loneliness. In those conditions who can blame you if you begin to find solace with new friends, new activities and simply new ways of making yourself belong. That’s when cousin “Long” steps in the ring with his signature move; forgetfulness. You begin to forget to call your partner, buddy or whatever you choose to call him/her. You only make that call when you remember the day has gone by and you haven’t checked on him/her. Gradually it moves from an occasional “how are you doing” to the obligatory “Just Checking up on you”.
That’s when you realize it’s only a matter of time before the calls seize. You then find out that, that guy/girl he or she introduced you to sometime back as his/her new friend is now where you once stood.
Your world begins to spin around in circles and you finally hit the canvas, still wandering what sent you hurtling down. Now the stars and the circles clear and you then realize you have been hit by a double combo (thanks to Mortal Kombat), you have been fighting an unfair battle all along where it is just you against the Tag-team “LONG DISTANCE”.
It’s funny because in my previous relationship (boyfriend-girlfriend if you are all wandering) it was this all too popular friend or should I say foe that dealt me my first broken heart. (Still don’t know if it was the real one because I recovered too quick) Though much of the fault was mine, if “Ms. Distance” happens to find his cousin “Long”, boy- oh- boy! Your relationship is set firm on rocky waters.
Lately, due to the immense time I have found on my side, I decided to take a walk down memory lane to find out why I have all of a sudden become a loner. It then occurred to me that out of the five people (If I forgot you please forgive me) I can proudly call friends I have lost four to “Long Distance”. I only hear from them on Birthday’s and Christmas, that makes it twice a year and when we make the occasional acquaintance we rarely have anything to talk about.
If you will remember I said four friends that means, “L.D” was kind enough to spare me one. Huh! Kind, that is one word distance has no knowledge about and if you consider that they share just two letters (out of the 26) in common, then you will understand why they are far from friends.
The one person left who I can completely be myself with, who I can say is my soul mate (if there ever is a thing like that), and who knows all the details of every passing moment in my life is now under the spell of “LD”.
It all begins with the first jab distance often throws; loneliness. In those conditions who can blame you if you begin to find solace with new friends, new activities and simply new ways of making yourself belong. That’s when cousin “Long” steps in the ring with his signature move; forgetfulness. You begin to forget to call your partner, buddy or whatever you choose to call him/her. You only make that call when you remember the day has gone by and you haven’t checked on him/her. Gradually it moves from an occasional “how are you doing” to the obligatory “Just Checking up on you”.
That’s when you realize it’s only a matter of time before the calls seize. You then find out that, that guy/girl he or she introduced you to sometime back as his/her new friend is now where you once stood.
Your world begins to spin around in circles and you finally hit the canvas, still wandering what sent you hurtling down. Now the stars and the circles clear and you then realize you have been hit by a double combo (thanks to Mortal Kombat), you have been fighting an unfair battle all along where it is just you against the Tag-team “LONG DISTANCE”.
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