Walking through fallowed fields of my soul
Happy memories of a father
The price of precious pursuits
The charm of unfeigned sobriety
The endearing portrait of virility
The assurance of strident care
The fervency of fortitude
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Friday, July 30, 2010
Thoughts About A Father
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
The Delimma Of A Middle-aged Orphan
1978
A besotted night
A full-blooded knight
A dutiful dame
A cherished game
9 moons
A birth
A child
A son
A man
In the footsteps of time
A tragedy
A cruelty
A mother's unscheduled exit
A breached heart
Having never grieved
Sits like a stone in the corridor of anguish
Days and nights in flight
Seasons passing in haste
Years going in and out without care
The other night
The precious knight
Falls into perpetual sleep
In the path of the unending exodus
Now
With all the architects gone forever
In this silent autumn
I ask of those still around
Where are the happy dreamers?
What do I do with these memories?
Where do we belong?
Here?
There?
Left behind
I feel so abandoned
A besotted night
A full-blooded knight
A dutiful dame
A cherished game
9 moons
A birth
A child
A son
A man
In the footsteps of time
A tragedy
A cruelty
A mother's unscheduled exit
A breached heart
Having never grieved
Sits like a stone in the corridor of anguish
Days and nights in flight
Seasons passing in haste
Years going in and out without care
The other night
The precious knight
Falls into perpetual sleep
In the path of the unending exodus
Now
With all the architects gone forever
In this silent autumn
I ask of those still around
Where are the happy dreamers?
What do I do with these memories?
Where do we belong?
Here?
There?
Left behind
I feel so abandoned
Friday, March 19, 2010
Contemporary Ghanaian Contrivances
Living outside the borders of Ghana, as I do, one of the few self-preserving delusions I allow myself to harbor and indulge in regularly is this puritanical and idealistic image of Ghana and Ghanaians-the feel-good this-type-of-sh*t-can-never-happen-in-Ghana lines, refrains and pretences Ghanaians so love to carry like a badge of honour.
Perhaps, like many a Ghanaian, I have developed an image of Ghana largely based on false idealism- a hollow concept that places Ghana on an impeccable pedestal of high moral excellence.
On many occasions, I have found myself comparing the Ghanaian way of life to those of other people, cultures and value systems and puffing out my chest proudly in the belief that our way, the Ghanaian way, is far superior. I have always contented myself - that Ghanaians are not criminally minded as others; that the cases of teenage pregnancies in Ghana is below the continental average even though I do not have the facts to support such an assertion; that Ghanaians are a breed of hard-working geniuses; that Ghanaian men do not rape their women and girls; that our education system is one of the best, if not the best in the whole continent; that Ghanaians are the most friendly and peace-loving people in the entire world. . . . .I suppose that I am referring to my own irrational assumptions of Ghanaian exceptionalism.
I am perfectly aware of the fact that Ghana is far from this idyllic picture of perfection I have chosen to believe in, however I cannot seem to bring myself to admit that the view I hold of Ghana, when outside, is outright naive, unreasonable and even deceptive. Call it patriotism, nationalism or whatever you like.
Every time I am in Ghana, my idealist views come into sharp confrontation with what pertains in the real world of today's Ghana. But as soon as I am outside Ghana's borders, guess what, the same idiosyncratic mindset creeps in. So today I want to dwell on some Ghanaians peculiarities for a change.
This preconceived Ghanaian 'superiority complex' has got to go.
To accept an image of Ghana which is totally different from the enormously deficient one I have been carrying, I believe, is the beginning of a therapeutic release from my self-imposed idealism. So? ? ?
Here are a few of my observations regarding the absurd contrivances we so cherish and love to pursue.
Our funerals
We are a bunch who love entertainment. So we even trivialise the funerals of our departed ones and turn what is supposed to be solemn moments into mindless occasions for parties, where all sorts of debauchery are not only permitted but encouraged with glee. How we love to lavish attention on the dead as supposed to the living! No wonder funerals are the primary occasions where families and communities come together. In many cultures, a funeral is short and simple-solely built around bidding farewell to the dead.Nothing more nothing less.
Our cultural mindset is the opposite. We are always looking back such that we place obscene value on what is dead and past and not enough focus on the future, on our children, our jobs and our dreams.
Perhaps, it is a symptom of our collective fear of the future? So we hold unto the past?
Valentine day celebrations
Not only have we embrace the vanities of other cultures but have jump into them head first. A case in point is the celebration of valentine day. We have managed to take it to levels previously unheard of any where else. Husbands leaving their wives at home and splurging on mistresses and other people's wives with wanton gifts they cannot afford, whilst their children walk around in tattered clothes. Misplaced priorities.
Sakawa
The get-rich-quick by-all-means phenomenon of sakawa is another contrivance in Ghana today. We have perfected the science of swindling other people of their hard-earned money for our selfish use.
We have become a society gripped by the urgency of 'having, using and enjoying' instead of one concerned with 'doing, creating and becoming'. And the sad reality is that nobody bothers any more to ascertain the source of people's wealth.
To us wealth is wealth irrespective of the source and the processes involved in its acquisition. That is why many Ghanaians never bother to learn and develop the habits, skills and the value systems needed to create wealth for ourselves and our communities.
Disregard for integrity
We are as vain as it gets. Most of us claim to be believers but our actions do not bear testimony to our faith. The idea of integrity is a foreign concept to most Ghanaians. Our own kith and kin do not brink when it comes to taking advantage of us. Comfort and convenience triumphs over integrity and accountability in our corner of the world.
And I think that we are not as awesome as we think we are!
Perhaps, like many a Ghanaian, I have developed an image of Ghana largely based on false idealism- a hollow concept that places Ghana on an impeccable pedestal of high moral excellence.
On many occasions, I have found myself comparing the Ghanaian way of life to those of other people, cultures and value systems and puffing out my chest proudly in the belief that our way, the Ghanaian way, is far superior. I have always contented myself - that Ghanaians are not criminally minded as others; that the cases of teenage pregnancies in Ghana is below the continental average even though I do not have the facts to support such an assertion; that Ghanaians are a breed of hard-working geniuses; that Ghanaian men do not rape their women and girls; that our education system is one of the best, if not the best in the whole continent; that Ghanaians are the most friendly and peace-loving people in the entire world. . . . .I suppose that I am referring to my own irrational assumptions of Ghanaian exceptionalism.
I am perfectly aware of the fact that Ghana is far from this idyllic picture of perfection I have chosen to believe in, however I cannot seem to bring myself to admit that the view I hold of Ghana, when outside, is outright naive, unreasonable and even deceptive. Call it patriotism, nationalism or whatever you like.
Every time I am in Ghana, my idealist views come into sharp confrontation with what pertains in the real world of today's Ghana. But as soon as I am outside Ghana's borders, guess what, the same idiosyncratic mindset creeps in. So today I want to dwell on some Ghanaians peculiarities for a change.
This preconceived Ghanaian 'superiority complex' has got to go.
To accept an image of Ghana which is totally different from the enormously deficient one I have been carrying, I believe, is the beginning of a therapeutic release from my self-imposed idealism. So? ? ?
Here are a few of my observations regarding the absurd contrivances we so cherish and love to pursue.
Our funerals
We are a bunch who love entertainment. So we even trivialise the funerals of our departed ones and turn what is supposed to be solemn moments into mindless occasions for parties, where all sorts of debauchery are not only permitted but encouraged with glee. How we love to lavish attention on the dead as supposed to the living! No wonder funerals are the primary occasions where families and communities come together. In many cultures, a funeral is short and simple-solely built around bidding farewell to the dead.Nothing more nothing less.
Our cultural mindset is the opposite. We are always looking back such that we place obscene value on what is dead and past and not enough focus on the future, on our children, our jobs and our dreams.
Perhaps, it is a symptom of our collective fear of the future? So we hold unto the past?
Valentine day celebrations
Not only have we embrace the vanities of other cultures but have jump into them head first. A case in point is the celebration of valentine day. We have managed to take it to levels previously unheard of any where else. Husbands leaving their wives at home and splurging on mistresses and other people's wives with wanton gifts they cannot afford, whilst their children walk around in tattered clothes. Misplaced priorities.
Sakawa
The get-rich-quick by-all-means phenomenon of sakawa is another contrivance in Ghana today. We have perfected the science of swindling other people of their hard-earned money for our selfish use.
We have become a society gripped by the urgency of 'having, using and enjoying' instead of one concerned with 'doing, creating and becoming'. And the sad reality is that nobody bothers any more to ascertain the source of people's wealth.
To us wealth is wealth irrespective of the source and the processes involved in its acquisition. That is why many Ghanaians never bother to learn and develop the habits, skills and the value systems needed to create wealth for ourselves and our communities.
Disregard for integrity
We are as vain as it gets. Most of us claim to be believers but our actions do not bear testimony to our faith. The idea of integrity is a foreign concept to most Ghanaians. Our own kith and kin do not brink when it comes to taking advantage of us. Comfort and convenience triumphs over integrity and accountability in our corner of the world.
And I think that we are not as awesome as we think we are!
Thursday, March 4, 2010
The Picture Of Love
Last night
On the way to bed
I looked at the picture on the wall
Was greeted by the satisfaction in your eyes
And arrested by the redeeming contours of your smile
And desire summoned me to your side
This morning
As you slept by my side
I stole a glance at the picture on the bed
The way you like to curl up beside me
Even in prosaic sleep you exude angelic charm and grace
Engraving the picture of contentment upon my heart
Thanks for the picture of love
Your love
On the way to bed
I looked at the picture on the wall
Was greeted by the satisfaction in your eyes
And arrested by the redeeming contours of your smile
And desire summoned me to your side
This morning
As you slept by my side
I stole a glance at the picture on the bed
The way you like to curl up beside me
Even in prosaic sleep you exude angelic charm and grace
Engraving the picture of contentment upon my heart
Thanks for the picture of love
Your love
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
You Cross Your Legs, I Cross My Heart
What do you expect?
A waspish lecture on openness?
Yes my heart is crossed
Because all evening your legs have been crossed
That
Is the hard fact
A waspish lecture on openness?
Yes my heart is crossed
Because all evening your legs have been crossed
That
Is the hard fact
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Val On My Mind
There is this thing, erh, . . . dread?, apprehension?, drama?, failure?, . . . squatting on my mind.
Last year, I received a traumatic post-valentine reprimand.
Got brutally lectured to by MW( my woman) in the theory and practice of valentine, i.e the romantics extraordinaire that is supposed to flow effortlessly from me to her for the purpose of advertising and magnifying her super specialness. Apparently I got a big fat F for the effort.
I must confess. I have painfully tried to be romantic. But it appears the more I try, the more frustration it breeds. It is official: I am hopelessly unromantic. Perhaps even anti-romantic!
The problem is MW still thinks I have the potential to become Mr romantic if only I would let loose what she calls "that special thing sitting within my heart".
I have searched over and over again and I regret to conclude that, like the elusive G-spot, there is no special thing sitting in my heart for valentine. I think this whole valentine thing sucks!
So I have given up on ever making the valentine grade.
Pathetic is not strong enough a word to explain what I know will happen tomorrow.
BTW, I am not even sure why it is so important to try to pretend that I am in some sort of romantic mode when clearly I am not. Why should it be so difficult for folks to understand that valentine is nothing more than a savage commercial ploy meant to fatten the suckers.
MW must surely KNOW that I love her valentine or no valentine.
The problem is getting her to buy that in the face of all the retarded marketing gimmicks going on everywhere one looks.
So folks. Say a little prayer for me as you read this. Or else. . .
Last year, I received a traumatic post-valentine reprimand.
Got brutally lectured to by MW( my woman) in the theory and practice of valentine, i.e the romantics extraordinaire that is supposed to flow effortlessly from me to her for the purpose of advertising and magnifying her super specialness. Apparently I got a big fat F for the effort.
I must confess. I have painfully tried to be romantic. But it appears the more I try, the more frustration it breeds. It is official: I am hopelessly unromantic. Perhaps even anti-romantic!
The problem is MW still thinks I have the potential to become Mr romantic if only I would let loose what she calls "that special thing sitting within my heart".
I have searched over and over again and I regret to conclude that, like the elusive G-spot, there is no special thing sitting in my heart for valentine. I think this whole valentine thing sucks!
So I have given up on ever making the valentine grade.
Pathetic is not strong enough a word to explain what I know will happen tomorrow.
BTW, I am not even sure why it is so important to try to pretend that I am in some sort of romantic mode when clearly I am not. Why should it be so difficult for folks to understand that valentine is nothing more than a savage commercial ploy meant to fatten the suckers.
MW must surely KNOW that I love her valentine or no valentine.
The problem is getting her to buy that in the face of all the retarded marketing gimmicks going on everywhere one looks.
So folks. Say a little prayer for me as you read this. Or else. . .
Friday, February 5, 2010
Not Tonight
'Hi, can we meet at my place tonight?', he asked. Charmingly.
'Not tonight, I am sorry, erh. . .', she replied apologetically. Her tone flaccid as one waiting to be persuaded to give in.
'Why the hell not. . .?', he interjected. Confident.
'I am purifying myself for the once-in-a-month treat for my hubby this weekend', she emphasized unashamedly.
'Okay. . .', he gasped. Shocked. Bemused. He looked around as if to make sure nobody else heard what he has just heard.
'. . . bye', she hanged up. Gazing at the cellphone for a brief moment. Before strutting off. Home bound, happy that she has managed to have her way this time.
'Not tonight, I am sorry, erh. . .', she replied apologetically. Her tone flaccid as one waiting to be persuaded to give in.
'Why the hell not. . .?', he interjected. Confident.
'I am purifying myself for the once-in-a-month treat for my hubby this weekend', she emphasized unashamedly.
'Okay. . .', he gasped. Shocked. Bemused. He looked around as if to make sure nobody else heard what he has just heard.
'. . . bye', she hanged up. Gazing at the cellphone for a brief moment. Before strutting off. Home bound, happy that she has managed to have her way this time.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Death
Cold
Cruel
Merciless
The dissolution of life
The end of the journey
The nasty fellow has visited my family
My step-father, SK, is the victim
He was a good man
Patient, caring and loving, he lived his life for his family
He shall be sorely missed
Rest in peace SK!
Cruel
Merciless
The dissolution of life
The end of the journey
The nasty fellow has visited my family
My step-father, SK, is the victim
He was a good man
Patient, caring and loving, he lived his life for his family
He shall be sorely missed
Rest in peace SK!
Monday, January 25, 2010
The Street Child
An unwanted
Deserted
Being
Raised
On the streets
By no one
For no one
A jagged phantom
Of a wizened childhood
An ejected nestling
Roaming
The veins
And arteries
Of cities and towns
With no obligation
And no consideration
A vagabond
Of wretched existence
A weed
A parallel life
Doting
Alongside
Contours of unconsciousness
Like an aborted shadow
With no voice
And no choice
An apoptotic blip
Programmed to deviate
So he wanders
All his life
Searching
Itching
For his lot
In all the wrong places
Without peace
And without ease
Deserted
Being
Raised
On the streets
By no one
For no one
A jagged phantom
Of a wizened childhood
An ejected nestling
Roaming
The veins
And arteries
Of cities and towns
With no obligation
And no consideration
A vagabond
Of wretched existence
A weed
A parallel life
Doting
Alongside
Contours of unconsciousness
Like an aborted shadow
With no voice
And no choice
An apoptotic blip
Programmed to deviate
So he wanders
All his life
Searching
Itching
For his lot
In all the wrong places
Without peace
And without ease
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Tigersterone
In an attempt to explain the sordid exploits swelling around
the Tiger,one of the guys in the office blamed it on biology.
According to him high achievers and alpha males are loaded
with incredibly high levels of testosterone.
And this very same hormone dishing out the competitive advantage
is responsible for his inability to keep the cudgel in the pants.
Therefore we all must give the Tiger, the W'oo'unded one, the break.
He's just being driven bonkers by the tiger inside, you know.
the Tiger,one of the guys in the office blamed it on biology.
According to him high achievers and alpha males are loaded
with incredibly high levels of testosterone.
And this very same hormone dishing out the competitive advantage
is responsible for his inability to keep the cudgel in the pants.
Therefore we all must give the Tiger, the W'oo'unded one, the break.
He's just being driven bonkers by the tiger inside, you know.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Game Of Chance?
Forget about serendipity. There is more to this than meet the eyes.
What is the probability of running into the same lady, a casual acquaintance, in three different places in three days?
Whilst you are mulling over that, the first thing I noticed on each of the 'random' encounters is the lecherous stir in her eyes. The third encounter did set alarm bells in the mind.
What did I do on the third occasion? I faked a smile and move on with my business, ignoring her. But deep within I felt there was something sinister going on.
Am I being paranoid?
What is the probability of running into the same lady, a casual acquaintance, in three different places in three days?
Whilst you are mulling over that, the first thing I noticed on each of the 'random' encounters is the lecherous stir in her eyes. The third encounter did set alarm bells in the mind.
What did I do on the third occasion? I faked a smile and move on with my business, ignoring her. But deep within I felt there was something sinister going on.
Am I being paranoid?
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Modernity?
An unsaintly hour tiptoeing
High
Above folksy heads
Humanity discarded
True friendship banished
Exotic options on every table
Faked sophistication
Meaningless busyness
Depravity
Vanity
Twisted motives
Cheated trust
Pretence all around
Empty smiles
Grip and grin
We crave company
In this belly of loneliness
We cry out for purpose
In this sea of mundanity
We thirst for community
Lost in our own alienation
Multitudes in maddening rush
For the very empty dreams
For which many have sold their souls
I see many standing
At obtuse attention
To the modern anthem
As they push headlong
To the place of slaughter
Bewildered dreamers
Meandering adventurers
Floating in unfamiliar spaces
Lost in the modern wilderness
Wondering aloud
We have arrived and yet we feel so lost
We have evolved and yet so unfulfilled
High
Above folksy heads
Humanity discarded
True friendship banished
Exotic options on every table
Faked sophistication
Meaningless busyness
Depravity
Vanity
Twisted motives
Cheated trust
Pretence all around
Empty smiles
Grip and grin
We crave company
In this belly of loneliness
We cry out for purpose
In this sea of mundanity
We thirst for community
Lost in our own alienation
Multitudes in maddening rush
For the very empty dreams
For which many have sold their souls
I see many standing
At obtuse attention
To the modern anthem
As they push headlong
To the place of slaughter
Bewildered dreamers
Meandering adventurers
Floating in unfamiliar spaces
Lost in the modern wilderness
Wondering aloud
We have arrived and yet we feel so lost
We have evolved and yet so unfulfilled
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
What About Love III
Around the corner
The sound of an approaching car
"It must be him", she mused blithely
And peeped through the windows
Heart pulsating
Mind in blissful quest
Her body
Warm
Ready for some loving
She glanced
On the wall
A clock
Ticking away
Prayerfully
The sweet perfume
Hanging watchfully
In anticipation
"Yes, I am ready", she whispered
Inhaling the love in the air
Then
Phone rings
"Honey, you wont believe the good news"
"There is this deal I have to close today"
"There is good money in it"
"I am sorry I wont be able to come right away"
"See you around midnight"
"Hope you understand"
The sound of an approaching car
"It must be him", she mused blithely
And peeped through the windows
Heart pulsating
Mind in blissful quest
Her body
Warm
Ready for some loving
She glanced
On the wall
A clock
Ticking away
Prayerfully
The sweet perfume
Hanging watchfully
In anticipation
"Yes, I am ready", she whispered
Inhaling the love in the air
Then
Phone rings
"Honey, you wont believe the good news"
"There is this deal I have to close today"
"There is good money in it"
"I am sorry I wont be able to come right away"
"See you around midnight"
"Hope you understand"
Friday, October 30, 2009
What About Love II
The phone rings
"Yes", she answered
"It's me sweetie." He began
"Look, I have been thinking hard"
"Oooh, about what ?" She probed
"About your words last night."
"I guess there is something deep in there"
"I promise I will make it up, okay?"
"Okaaaay" she intoned warming with delight
"Henceforth you will be loved like you cannot believe it"
"Today, I will be home on time"
"See you later"
"Yes", she answered
"It's me sweetie." He began
"Look, I have been thinking hard"
"Oooh, about what ?" She probed
"About your words last night."
"I guess there is something deep in there"
"I promise I will make it up, okay?"
"Okaaaay" she intoned warming with delight
"Henceforth you will be loved like you cannot believe it"
"Today, I will be home on time"
"See you later"
Thursday, October 29, 2009
What About Love?
She says,
"I want love"
He replies
"I am always there for you in and out"
"I do my best to ensure that our needs are met"
"You go to sleep with a smile on your face"
"What then do you, woman, mean by 'What about love?'? "
"I want love"
He replies
"I am always there for you in and out"
"I do my best to ensure that our needs are met"
"You go to sleep with a smile on your face"
"What then do you, woman, mean by 'What about love?'? "
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Would You Accede?
She is 35+
Pretty faced
Good body plumage
Excellent aesthetics
A very serious professional disposition
A clinician
Unmarried
Childless
She broached the idea of making a baby with a family friend
All she wants is for the dude to do her and get her pregnant
She does not expect his involvement in future of child
Friend is seriously married with children
And willing to help by donating sperm but hesitant to do her
Like a lioness on heat she insists to be done
My take is keep away and sing to wife if she keeps pushing
Should he do a 'good Samaritan'?
Pretty faced
Good body plumage
Excellent aesthetics
A very serious professional disposition
A clinician
Unmarried
Childless
She broached the idea of making a baby with a family friend
All she wants is for the dude to do her and get her pregnant
She does not expect his involvement in future of child
Friend is seriously married with children
And willing to help by donating sperm but hesitant to do her
Like a lioness on heat she insists to be done
My take is keep away and sing to wife if she keeps pushing
Should he do a 'good Samaritan'?
Saturday, October 10, 2009
By Luck Or Design Long Life Is In Her Degrees
Dude listen. And listen real well.
Research conducted by the Swedish Institute for Social Research in Stockholm point to the fact that an educated wife is the best thing any man can wish for. Lol.
The gist of this clever research is this simple: If you want to enjoy a long happy life, marry a highly educated woman. In other words go for the ones with the highest academic titles: the doctorates as in PhDs, DScs, LLDs etc. I suggest you keep a printed copy of this research for your own good. As you are aware, the sisters with strings of letters after their names will, as expected, question your audacity for even trying to ask them out. All you would have to do henceforth is shut up and hand her a copy of the research findings.
If you are unable to land any of those with the highest academic letters, at least take an aim at those with MAs, MScs,MPhils,LLMs,MEngs. Do you copy?
The second inference from the research is that you have a reasonable scientific excuse or even responsibility to ditch your current one with only a BA, BSc, BCom as soon as you land that beautiful professor.
If your current does not have anything higher than a HND, I suggest you cease talking to her altogether. You will be dead before you could say 'honey'. Unless of course you want to be placed on the endangered species list. Do you still copy?
Men in African societies, especially those of us with academic insufficiency( ie without a PhD), are socially primed to tie the knot only with women with a string of degrees or qualifications inferior to ours. This patriarchal dispensation has ensured that many of the sisters who have obtained higher degrees are ostracised and punished for being book long.
Now the floodgates have finally been opened. So hunters go for the big fish. Yeeeeeehaaaaaa!
Not only must we encourage our wives, mothers, sisters and daughters to go for the highest degrees available, we must also push them to upgrade their academic arsenals as often as is possible. Otherwise no sane man will hang around them any longer. Get that?
As for me, I am going to literally drag my sweetheart to go for that degree she has been dreaming of all this while. My reasons for opposing that pursuit are no longer valid.
After all 100 years is my minimum expectation henceforth.
Research conducted by the Swedish Institute for Social Research in Stockholm point to the fact that an educated wife is the best thing any man can wish for. Lol.
The gist of this clever research is this simple: If you want to enjoy a long happy life, marry a highly educated woman. In other words go for the ones with the highest academic titles: the doctorates as in PhDs, DScs, LLDs etc. I suggest you keep a printed copy of this research for your own good. As you are aware, the sisters with strings of letters after their names will, as expected, question your audacity for even trying to ask them out. All you would have to do henceforth is shut up and hand her a copy of the research findings.
If you are unable to land any of those with the highest academic letters, at least take an aim at those with MAs, MScs,MPhils,LLMs,MEngs. Do you copy?
The second inference from the research is that you have a reasonable scientific excuse or even responsibility to ditch your current one with only a BA, BSc, BCom as soon as you land that beautiful professor.
If your current does not have anything higher than a HND, I suggest you cease talking to her altogether. You will be dead before you could say 'honey'. Unless of course you want to be placed on the endangered species list. Do you still copy?
Men in African societies, especially those of us with academic insufficiency( ie without a PhD), are socially primed to tie the knot only with women with a string of degrees or qualifications inferior to ours. This patriarchal dispensation has ensured that many of the sisters who have obtained higher degrees are ostracised and punished for being book long.
Now the floodgates have finally been opened. So hunters go for the big fish. Yeeeeeehaaaaaa!
Not only must we encourage our wives, mothers, sisters and daughters to go for the highest degrees available, we must also push them to upgrade their academic arsenals as often as is possible. Otherwise no sane man will hang around them any longer. Get that?
As for me, I am going to literally drag my sweetheart to go for that degree she has been dreaming of all this while. My reasons for opposing that pursuit are no longer valid.
After all 100 years is my minimum expectation henceforth.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Improper Fractions
Zombies
Restless souls
Prisoners of vanity
Rolling stones
In perpetual motion
Improper fractions
Defying logic
KM was one of them
An Uncle dearly beloved
Was close to half a century when he dropped
The fatal flaw
Unwillingness to stick to only one dearly conjoined
He lived a passerby's dream
Wilds seeds sown across the field
Fatherless mob
Incomplete souls
Unanswered questions in tearful hearts
I am crying
I am cringing
Is there a way to repair the breach?
Will the genes receive redemption?
I dread a replicating portfolio full of bile
Disasters
Heartaches
Circles of shame sprouting behind the barns
I spare a thought
I say a prayer
Concoctions from above thrown across the fields
Healing balms in view
A new horizon
Rains of restoration pouring down
Garments of praise on the lines
There is hope after all
Restless souls
Prisoners of vanity
Rolling stones
In perpetual motion
Improper fractions
Defying logic
KM was one of them
An Uncle dearly beloved
Was close to half a century when he dropped
The fatal flaw
Unwillingness to stick to only one dearly conjoined
He lived a passerby's dream
Wilds seeds sown across the field
Fatherless mob
Incomplete souls
Unanswered questions in tearful hearts
I am crying
I am cringing
Is there a way to repair the breach?
Will the genes receive redemption?
I dread a replicating portfolio full of bile
Disasters
Heartaches
Circles of shame sprouting behind the barns
I spare a thought
I say a prayer
Concoctions from above thrown across the fields
Healing balms in view
A new horizon
Rains of restoration pouring down
Garments of praise on the lines
There is hope after all
Monday, August 17, 2009
Beyond The Pale
Behaviour scientists, I now believe, are not the only bunch who are fully persuaded that the supreme interests of men primarily revolve around three issues: chicks, cars and booze.
Even a sect of the much respected domain of biology now postulates that mother nature is also a believer in this far-fetched psychology of men. They point to the fact that the population of the female specie is increasingly outpacing that of the male and they ascribe this phenomenon to the redeeming work of mother nature. According to them, mother nature, being the good economist that she is, is trying really hard to meet the insatiable demand of men for sex by supplying more chicks! They call that demand and supply. Don't they?
So yes, obviously mother nature like most mothers love her boys. And how do you show your love for your boys? By providing in abundance what makes them happy. . .Chicks! Lol.
I don't believe for a second that men are necessarily helpless in self-control in the matters of chicks. For goodness sake, we are not all obsessed with sex. Or are we?
I have got a beautiful, delightsome and responsive wife. Once in a while I may inadvertently steal a glance at a beautiful chick walking past, but I know how to control myself.
Another group of 'weirdos' who are not only believers but practitioners of this codswallop are marketers and advertisers. We are bombarded ad nauseam with flicking ads of men apparently enjoying the best that life has to offer, gulping down tonnes of beer and other forms of booze. Those who don't drink, are made to feel like a lost generation, a hopeless lot unaware of what they are missing.
I refuse to fall for their mind games. The last time I checked water was still better than anything with a percentage above 5%. After all the last time somebody gave me a certain beverage to drink, I felt totally drowsy after only five sips. When I finally brought myself to read what was written on the bottle I realised to my horror of horrors that the 'non-alcoholic beverage' was in fact 5%.
Then, oh yes, C.A.R.S. Geez. I love cars. I love the smell of new leather seats. I love the feel of pedals under my feet. The purr of a smooth engine responding to my every command is almost irresistible. But again nothing can make me go and spend tonnes of money on a new ride just because someone decides to play a sublime trick on my mind by showing an ad of a dude gliding down the road in a latest German car.
The question is what is so difficult about staying true to oneself?
What drives these middle-age, married men to not only cheat on their wives but also pat each other on the back whenever they gather around the booze alter to chat about their latest wild escapades with chicks and of course fantasize about the latest cars.
Is that all there is to the world of men? Is that what respected family men are expected to do?
Or perhaps is it true after all that the modern man is not all that evolved as we want to believe that we are? Probable today's men are still cavemen in every sense of the word.
Next time I meet with my friends I will introduce something pretty decent. We shall talk about, erm, . . . architecture, the architecture of love.
Even a sect of the much respected domain of biology now postulates that mother nature is also a believer in this far-fetched psychology of men. They point to the fact that the population of the female specie is increasingly outpacing that of the male and they ascribe this phenomenon to the redeeming work of mother nature. According to them, mother nature, being the good economist that she is, is trying really hard to meet the insatiable demand of men for sex by supplying more chicks! They call that demand and supply. Don't they?
So yes, obviously mother nature like most mothers love her boys. And how do you show your love for your boys? By providing in abundance what makes them happy. . .Chicks! Lol.
I don't believe for a second that men are necessarily helpless in self-control in the matters of chicks. For goodness sake, we are not all obsessed with sex. Or are we?
I have got a beautiful, delightsome and responsive wife. Once in a while I may inadvertently steal a glance at a beautiful chick walking past, but I know how to control myself.
Another group of 'weirdos' who are not only believers but practitioners of this codswallop are marketers and advertisers. We are bombarded ad nauseam with flicking ads of men apparently enjoying the best that life has to offer, gulping down tonnes of beer and other forms of booze. Those who don't drink, are made to feel like a lost generation, a hopeless lot unaware of what they are missing.
I refuse to fall for their mind games. The last time I checked water was still better than anything with a percentage above 5%. After all the last time somebody gave me a certain beverage to drink, I felt totally drowsy after only five sips. When I finally brought myself to read what was written on the bottle I realised to my horror of horrors that the 'non-alcoholic beverage' was in fact 5%.
Then, oh yes, C.A.R.S. Geez. I love cars. I love the smell of new leather seats. I love the feel of pedals under my feet. The purr of a smooth engine responding to my every command is almost irresistible. But again nothing can make me go and spend tonnes of money on a new ride just because someone decides to play a sublime trick on my mind by showing an ad of a dude gliding down the road in a latest German car.
The question is what is so difficult about staying true to oneself?
What drives these middle-age, married men to not only cheat on their wives but also pat each other on the back whenever they gather around the booze alter to chat about their latest wild escapades with chicks and of course fantasize about the latest cars.
Is that all there is to the world of men? Is that what respected family men are expected to do?
Or perhaps is it true after all that the modern man is not all that evolved as we want to believe that we are? Probable today's men are still cavemen in every sense of the word.
Next time I meet with my friends I will introduce something pretty decent. We shall talk about, erm, . . . architecture, the architecture of love.
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