Sunday, October 23, 2011


Who is to judge what is right or what is wrong and what is the yardstick for measuring a morally acceptable act? Is it religion or is it society, or is it the laws that we keep amending every now and then to suit our evolving lifestyles?

Tonight, as I pace the corridors of my apartment hoping to find sleep, these thoughts keep caressing my mind as I try to understand NATO’s invasion of Libya and why for the love of God that bloke is kissing the other chap live on national TV.

Oh! It was a talk show encouraging gays to come out of the closet in Africa and more specifically in Ghana.

My immediate reaction being as homophobic as I am was “What kind of nonsense is this and where is Ghana heading to?”

You see, I am your average Ghanaian young man brought up in an old fashioned way and even though I am just 26 with a lot of exposure to the western world, homosexuality was something I frowned upon with every fibre of my being.

I have been accused of being “narrow-minded” in this argument and more often been referred to as “old school”. In one extreme case my college friend referred to me as the “modern day Hitler” in a discussion involving gay rights.

Homosexuality has been the subject of extensive discussion in Ghana over the last few months, with some human rights activists calling for it to be legally recognised. Recently, there was speculation that the British government planned to cut aid to Ghana if Gay Rights was not enforced. How true this is, I have no idea.

For just a brief moment let us put aside our differences whiles we consider a few issues, letting go of what is morally right or wrong or what religion has to say concerning this subject.
Every human being has or must have the right to Freedom of association whether you are in Libya or the most democratic state in the world. It is your God given right to love and to love freely.

You can choose to be a homo or heterosexual lover; it really doesn’t matter provided it makes you happy. But in the act of making you happy have you considered its ramifications on society as we know it and the human race at large.

Yesterday it was gay rights and gay advocacy, today it is gay marriage and gay couples being allowed to adopt. There are even talks of permitting gay couples to have their own babies through stem cell technology or surrogates.

All these are wonderful if you consider how far we have come from the Stone Age, but how are today’s actions influencing our tomorrow. Are our kids going to have to find their identity through a database at some sperm bank or is Kofi one day going to have to attribute his high IQ to a father he has never met but his “mommies” claim to be some professor according to the donor data? Or we will one day wake up to an extinct race, where evolution in civilization took out the sacred act of procreation and turned it into a technological tool riddled with errors?
It is already sad that we are gradually losing the human culture, where our once sacred acts like hugs and kisses have been reduced to a simple click of a button. Have you ever wondered how 50 years from now you are going to explain a hug to your 3 year old son?

But as I near the end of my blog post I begin to wonder how different my views on homosexuality are from the views of the white man some 200 years ago, when slavery was being abolished. I might not be a racist or a modern day Willie Lynch, but I believe infringing on any man’s God given right to how or what to love makes me as evil as Hitler.

True love is the most perfect thing anyone could experience in his/her life and does it really matter how that experience comes. Whether it’s male-on-male relationship or an all female affair, the underlying factor must be love. Who am I to say what homosexuals share is not true love or a gay couple cannot raise the next president. It is tantamount to saying Negros are monkeys and no monkey can ever become president 200 years ago. Today, there is a Negro in the White House and a monkey’s formula (Allotey’s constant) is help keeping astronauts in space.

So I can decide to let my fear of what I do not understand (homosexuality) paralyse my judgement of tomorrow or perhaps, accept the various packaging love presents itself in. For what I have come to realise is civilizations come and go and cultures evolve but what has indeed withstood the test of time and is the core of the human spirit is love, without which we are living but yet extinct.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011


It’s amazing how time flies whether you are having fun or not and it’s amazing what you would find once you begin to take stock of your life. You see, in less than two hours I would be 26 years old and as I lay here recollecting events in my life, I realise a fascinating trend. The great (or should I say the most significant) things that have had great impact to my very existence have occurred in the years ending with six and their multiples.

I call it “the Mensah Theorem”, a series of events that have led to my present state of mind, body and soul.

My father died just four months after my sixth birthday and as young as I was, I can remember the exact day it happened, where I was and how I knew he had passed away. It was at one of my aunt’s Boxing Day parties, the day’s she puts in the extras for her infamous chocolate cakes. It was also the day where I walked into the kitchen and found my mother sprawled on the floor weeping her heart out. It was also the day where my very innocent speech; “Mum I know daddy is gone but if you stop crying you can have a piece of my chocolate cake” initiated a mother-son bond that even Zeus can’t strike apart with his thunder bolt.

So fast forward six years after and I am twelve but back at the same dark place I was six years before and laying a similar wreath I laid on my father’s tomb six years before. Only this time, it was my grandmother, the only one of the pair I had ever known.

As long and tiresome as her funeral was, Grannies death and memorial service taught me a lesson that I will never forget. That no matter how well you live your life and how well you bring forth your offspring, it is the lives that you touch outside your family that makes you a great person. A resolution I remind myself every year and the flame that keeps my passion to put Baba through school every time he calls.

16, wasn’t much to go by but it was the year I got my drivers’ license and the year that acne took my pretty boy status away. Lesson learnt here; never mix Clearasil with Dettol.

Well at 18 the fun began. Death had gone past my family by and young Mr. Page was ready to live. Everything rebellious happened in this year. I broke my virginity (yes I am a late bloomer but trust me I caught on very fast), friendship with Sawan and Opoku took me from an innocent chap to an over confident fashionable teen. Mfantsipim School also gave me the best preparation a young African man needed to conquer the world. (Haters of the school should please refer to Mr. Kofi Annan).

For the immense heartache I brought my mother that period, I say I am sorry. To that lovely girl that I gave a reason not to trust any man again, I say sorry (but I think it is safe not to trust any man) and to the numerous parties I crushed and the several more I got invited to, I say thank you. (The MOBB in 2002 was still the illest party ever) To my now rickety car (GW 142 R) I tip my heart to you for all the nights you carried the boys to clubs, parties and car races safely. You truly did your duty, I love you.

18 was fun, care free and full of baggy clothes.

So two years before now I sat at this very spot, typing out a blog I had named 25 to life, (unfortunately that blog never saw the light of day) 24 hours to my 25th birthday (A bit confusing huh? So is everything with theorem at the end) It was a summary of how I felt I had not achieved enough to warrant the age 25.

But today, I sit here at 26 (clock just struck midnight), confident of what I have achieved and what I am going to achieve.

I have the best family luck can afford any random baby. Father died but his wisdom and wealth has kept me in the top schools Ghana can offer. Mum never remarried, so I never lacked a divided attention and sister always blazed the trail so I will never have to make her mistakes.
Friends gave me confidence and boosted my ego; two things that have seen me not fail any job interview till date. Ebo taught me to consider others’ opinion, a trait that has made me respected amongst my peers I love you for that bro. Randy was there to remind me that being popular doesn’t mean you can’t ace your exams. Pino was a solid roommate and Quest will always have my back. Tee-el my brother from another mother, you can piss the whole world off but you will always have a room in my house and Charlene I will always be grateful, you have been a true guide to discovering the real Mr. Page.

To you, I will always love and though I may bring tears to your eyes sometimes, my heart will never wander far from where yours beats. You are my true soul mate.

So on the night that I officially break my silence in blogville and celebrate my 26th Birthday, I say “Because time itself is like a spiral, something special happens on your birthday each year: The same energy that God invested in you at birth is present once again”.

Help celebrate my birthday with me and remember, we “balling” at Bella Roma this Friday Night; drinks are not on the house. 18 still lurks somewhere in 26 so be sure not to be the designated driver.

Thursday, April 28, 2011


I once watched a kids’ television programme and witnessed the host try to explain to a toddler the meaning of understanding in the best way he knows how. He simply said understanding can never exist if both parties do not come to a compromise. For understanding to prevail one person must remain standing whiles the other agrees to go under. Both can never remain upright or both remain under if they expect understanding to hold.

I thought to myself that was the simplest and best description of an English vocabulary I have ever heard.

We often struggle for our opinions to be considered and voices heard forgetting more often than not that the person standing right next to us is also seeking the same attention. I shout and he shouts louder, both of us voicing out our different opinions. How can we reach a compromise if I am not ready to go under and him stand or vice versa.

It has been proven that in most dialogues, the concerned parties all agree on the end result but the differences remain with the approach in achieving this result. It is these differences that prevent the beautiful results from being achieved.

This morning, I read a note from a woman I love, wandering if her overwhelming schedule will drive me into the arms of another woman. Wandering if her recent mood swings and lack of attention to the man she loves will see her bidding farewell sooner than she imagined.

Well, I am not a sorcerer nor do I possess a crystal ball that allows me to see the future. Tomorrow is infinite and filled with so many different possibilities, so I cannot say with all certainty that all will be well. But I do possess two tools that I believe are more powerful than any sorcerers magic or a soothsayer’s crystal ball. These tools are my love for her and my ability to understand.

She may be overwhelmed in her new life and she may be sidetracked in knowing I exist but what will happen if I flare up and she flares up, then that beautiful end result we all so desperately seek will be lost.

We are different in so many ways and we possess so many different opinions but if I agree to go under when she wishes to remain standing and when she realizes she needs to go under for me to remain upright then we share a bond that can never be broken even when the right woman loves me wrongly.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

My Little Blue Flower

Seconds beget minutes; minutes long after hours and hours turn to days yet I am but a blemish in your day. Not noticed, not spotted in spite of my outstretched arms.

I seek for your attention but I am the last of my kind to get named. I yearn to be picked out, to be part of the bunch that graces your ever so beautiful garden. Yet you limit me to the wild, to shady damp areas and along abandoned streams.

You mock me and say I am a symbol of true love, yet my petals are left to be nurtured by nature instead of being wetted with the cool clean water that flows in your garden fountain.

You wonder why am blue, did it occur to you that perhaps the unseen tears that I weep in me every night is the cause of my pigmentation? Or you believe it is just another natural occurrence, to please your selfish desires.

Please stop, please turnaround and please take a closer look and try to Forget-me-not

Monday, February 21, 2011


When did it all change, when did life become so serious. When did we all stop wanting to become men and actually be men.

They say evolution is a slow process but it seems like it was just yesterday when “being cool” was all that mattered in the world. When chatting up a girl involved rocking the latest “Nike’s” or knowing the lyrics to Coolio’s gangster’s paradise and not flashing keys to a Mercedes Benz or being the heir to a million dollar corporation.

Oh! How the world has changed since then.

I woke up this morning to find my niece busily doing her own thing on my laptop and at the age of 6, I was keen to know what she could possibly do with any of the software installed on the machine. Instead, to my surprise, the 6 year old girl told me she was denying friends request on facebook. Wow! When I was six, the most complicated thing I knew how to do was to tie my shoe lace.

Oh! How the world has changed since then.

I ignored her, took a shower and decided to get a haircut at a new barber shop just a few metres from my house. When I took my seat in the chair, the barber asked me how I wanted it. “How I want what” I asked. That’s when he pulled out the brochure and revealed more than a dozen haircuts for men. OMG! Barbers don turn hairstylist for Ghana. When I was growing up, we only had two cuts for every male. The one we called “punk” and “down cut”. Amazingly, “punk” as we know it has evolved into fade and down cut, well, “down cut” I believe is still referred to as “down cut”. However, what kept my brows arched up the whole time was the hair cut the other customer walked out the shop with. Mohawk! For God’s sake, why anybody will want to go to the barber shop to become fearful and ugly, I simply cannot understand. For that look, I have a simple recipe. Don’t visit the barber shop for six.

Oh! How the world has changed since then.

Then there was that kid I saw on the street this evening, only if we had a hundred of them, Ghana would never need a traffic light. Yellow skinny jeans, bright red t-shirt with a black tie, lemon green shoes and a brown fitted cap. And to make matters worse, this chap had on some ridiculous looking horned rim sunglasses at 10 p.m. Well, baggy jeans and t-shirts as big as Ney York City when I was a teenager isn’t exactly what you will describe as trendy but this was utterly absurd. Perhaps, he was going to the same costume party the dude with the “Mohawk” seemed to be attending.

Oh! How the world has changed since then.

So as I sit here recapping my day, I wander, when it all changed. When did Hip-Hop get so noisy and when did jazz become so classy. When did building a career take precedence over being spotted in the latest “Phat Farm” gear? And when did my idea of fun change from a wild night at the club to a quiet night at the beach alone.
Have I just become that boring or indeed, the world has simply changed since then.....