“Homework” by Andrew Teye.

Assembly.
Arms forward stretch. Arms sideways stretch. One logologo line.
Inspection. Neat collar. Clean handkerchief. Let me smell your armpit. White singlet. White socks. Black shoe. Brown shoe. White socks. Black camboo. Brown camboo. White socks. Black sandals. Brown sandals. Where is your badge? Whip-whip-whip!
“God bless our Homeland Ghana.” “I promise on my honour.” “Our Father who art in Heaven.” “And can it be.” “Fairest Lord Jesus.” “We are marching to our classes.”

‘Good Morning Class.’
‘Good Morning Sir.’
‘How are you?’
‘We are fine, thank you. And yooouuu?’
‘Sit down. Where is your homework?’
‘It was too difficult, sir.’ ‘Father left my book in his car boot, sir.’ ‘Father did not sign, sir.’
Teacher banza. Driver banza. Father banza. Whip-whip-whip!

Morning drill.
Students’ companion. Companion of teachers. Foe of students.
Homonyms. Bear. Bear. Bank. Bank. Homophones. Key. Quay. See. Sea. Antonyms. Arrive-Depart. Adore-Despise. Attack-Retreat.
Synonyms. Abandon-Leave-Desert. Astonished-Surprised-Perplexed. Flabbergasted? Whip-whip-whip!
Collections. A bunch of? Bananas! A troupe of? Monkeys! A bouquet of? Err…err. Whip-whip-whip! You monkey!
Mental. Square root of? LCM of? HCF of?  12 Squared plus 5 Squared minus 15 Squared plus 10 Squared minus 2 Squared times zero? Whip-whip-whip!
Break time please!
Auntie please one bread. One meat-pie. One rock buns. One bofroat. Tampico. FanYoghurt. FanChocolate. Fanpop. Fanice…so nice nice nice.
Green Green grasses. Kwaku Ananse Stories. Change your style. Change your style. Be like that. Be like that. Boys play football. Girls play Ampe. Mother jeega nobody!

Break over please!
School Prefect. Compound Prefect. Bell boy. Cupboard Monitor. Blackboard Cleaner. Class Prefect: Sweeping Rooster. Class Prefect: Names of talkatives. Kojo Mensah-DP. Adwoa Mansa-TP. Your head is hard. Your head is hard paa!

Midterm.
Midterm Break. Midterm Holidays. Midterm Homework. English Homework. Maths Homework. Social Studies Homework. Integrated Science Homework. Agricultural Science Homework. Technical Drawing Homework. Catering Homework. Graphic Design Homework. French Homework. Ga Homework. Twi Homework. No-break Midterm. No-holiday Midterm.

 

You like that paa. You too you like that paa! You are someway papa. You too you are someway papa! I won’t say anything. Me I won’t talk. I’m going to come. I’m coming. I’m coming right now okay? Go tear, it is sweet. Herh! Who spoke vernacular? Only English! Speak only English!

Who Fla-tu-lat-ed? Flatulence. Farts. Boys at the back. Maybe girls at the front. Do females fart? Does Queen Elizabeth fart?  Who knows? We never know. Nobody ever knows.
Farts. Silent farts. Loud farts. Smelly farts. Korle Lagoon farts. Lavender Hill farts. Oblogo borla farts.

Mosquito romance. Tease the girls. Chase the boys. Chase him  all around the classroom. Slap him in the back! Pinch his arm! Oh no! There is a teacher! Oh yes! There’s a teacher! Sir, he was teasing me. He was teasing me, Sir. I don’t like that. I do not like that-o. Yoo.

Our day.
Digestive. Hob Nobs. Rich Tea. Shortbread. Coke. Fanta. Sprite. Oh, gimme some of your Malt ehh?
Speakers. Microphone. DJ. Dancing Floor. Dancing Competition. Jams. Who let the dogs out? Wo! Wo! Wo-wo-wo! Oh nananaana! It is our day.

Vacation classes. Vacation classwork. Vacation homework. Home-work. Go home and work.

 

Advertisements

“Perspective” By Daniel Hanson Dzah

Maame looked into his face as he smiled. She smiled back; those dimples were irresistible.
She smiled wider and leaned closer to him, laying a soft kiss on his left cheek. He simply smiled, and then seemed to frown momentarily.

Cheeky, Maame thought. She giggled and leaned forward a second time, planting a longer peck on his feather-soft right cheek. As before, he smiled and then frowned again.
“No, no, no lip-kisses for you Mister!” Maame protested. However she pitied him and leaned forward. She hesitated at the last minute and pulled back, chuckling at his already pouted lips.

“Naughty…naughty boy,” she whispered, then leaned closer and pulled back again when their lips almost touched. She repeated the playful act and enjoyed teasing him.

Finally weary of the monotony, she leaned in for what was to be her final time. This time, he was ready for her. He thrust his short arms forward and grabbed her left breast in both of his palms.
She shrieked slightly in surprise, reached for the transparent feeding bottle with the big rubber nipple and shoved it between his lips

“That Day At Kluu’s” by Daniel Hanson Dzah.

I loved Kluu’s. It had taken me daily visits for two weeks to fall in love with the place. I loved the affordable yet delectable food served, the ever-grinning waitresses and the free bottled water for each plate of food bought. I loved the idea of a cafe where I could eat outdoors and enjoy free wireless internet connection. Determined to be stingy about my new discovery, I always waited for all my co-employees to leave for lunch elsewhere before I sneaked my way out to Kluu’s.

Today was no different. I had managed to get out of the office just after everybody else and ordered my usual lunch: Chicken and Chips with dessert of Peeled Bananas. I sat in my favourite seat far enough towards the roadside to enjoy the view of slowly moving Ring-Road Central traffic but just close enough to the café to get a strong wireless signal for my smart phone. In a matter of minutes, my lunch was served by a smiling gap-toothed waitress. I said my ‘thank you’ brusquely and instinctively concentrated on my food. As per personal routine, I had to turn my attention to ongoing traffic and gesture a playful invitation to any commuter inquisitive enough to look my way.

It was then that I saw her. For whatever reason, she had her eyes fixed right in my direction and I observed them move from the plates in front of me to my face, until our eyes met. She smirked shyly and nodded as if to say, “go ahead, enjoy.”
I nodded in comprehension and picked up the peppershaker. What looked like a cell phone was clutched to her ear when I looked back at her again while peppering my plate. She was extremely beautiful and her laid-back hair brought out her charming facial features more distinctly. I continued to sprinkle even as she got off the phone with a slight frown on her face, obviously angered by her caller. Realizing my inquiring gaze, she smirked and shrugged to convey a message I understood- some idiot had called.
Right away, the traffic began to move along and she licked her lips jokingly before waving goodbye.
I waved back with a smile, dropped the shaker and checked my watch only find out I had just about ten minutes to rush back to the office. Swearing silently, I began digging into my food. The Chips and Chicken was done with in record speed. I picked up one thin finger of peeled banana, slid it into my mouth and froze. In one swift and bizarre motion, I leapt to my feet and coughed out the partially-munched peppery banana.

“Paradise In His Dreams” By Alfred Benneh.

“I’ll give you GhC500 for it!” Egbert said, as he gazed at his Rolex to check the time. He had to take a rain check on his dinner plans with his secretary to attend to this, but was now considering the probability of making it back in time for the date.
“What? That can’t even buy a Tico these days!” Kwame retorted in a somewhat surprised tone.
“Well that’s what you get for trying to broker a deal with such short notice, and frankly, that’s all my pockets can offer for now.”
“No… please, I do understand that the timing is bad, but in any case please look at the family and improve upon your bid” Kwame said as he pointed towards the living room where Serwa and the kids were playing.

“I don’t know why I married this fool! I was warned, but I did not listen. I blame it on love! If only it had not laid its lavendous fold upon my eyes, then perhaps I might not be on the verge of trading all I have worked for, for…for…for pesewas!” Serwa said to herself in a thwarted tone.
It was a Sunday, and typical of an Ashanti family, they had had ‘omotuo’ for lunch. “The soup must have ascended into his brain to cloud his sense of reasoning, or much worse, my husband has been indoctrinated into being a slave of soothsaying nonsense!” Serwa thought to herself.
Earlier in the day, when they were returning from church, Kwame had gone on and on in the car about the severity of what the prophet declared as “the last call” before his prophesy would come to pass. That the world really was coming to an end that night and so they had just a few hours to prepare. Just a few hours to bury the hatchet with his enemies, eat his favourite meal, deliver a valediction to his close pals, and most importantly; to liquefy their most valued assets- after all they would have no use of them after midnight when the meteor hit earth.
Serwa stayed mostly silent through all of her husband’s deliberations. Her nonchalance stemmed from the fact that she had exhausted herself for weeks trying to convince him that it was all a hoax. But not today, she would rather hone in on her own spiritual life and also spend some time playing with the kids. Kwame could do anything he wanted; as far as she was concerned he was now beyond convincing boundaries.

So, with a sunken tone she sang a lullaby to the two kids; Kofi and Andrew. With her eyes brimming with disdain, Serwa feigned a smile as her boys sang along and beckoned her to help them assemble their Lego pieces. She peeped at the balcony to assure herself once more of how daft her supposed ‘better half’ really was.
“Look Egbert, this is a three bedroom house at Kaneshie. Surely any empathetic buyer would offer more than the coins you are suggesting.”
“Ok Ok, enough said. My last offer is GhC1000, take it or leave it.”
“Deal!” and with that exclamation, Kwame signed the transfer of ownership papers and exchanged them for a GhC1000 cheque.
It was about 10pm, Kwame had followed his plan to the letter, the only thing left to do was to kiss his wife goodbye and let himself into a wait of the inevitable. He firmly grasped his GhC1000 cheque as he shut his eyes from the world; he wanted it to be a smooth journey home.
A few hours later Kwame became aware of himself. His pupils dilated as he stared at the magnificence of his environment. It was an unfamiliar territory, perhaps, not even an earthly one. With the air as clear as crystal, doves flying in choreographed battalions, mansions aligned in intricate perfection, and of course; his very feet standing on streets made of gold- he could only be in one place- Heaven.
He barely took another three steps before his attention was diverted.
“This way mister.”

Kwame turned to behold a 12 foot creature; shining as the midday sun with wings firmer than a unipeg’s. It stood upright with a widely opened right arm signalling him to follow.
“I will show you to your very own mansion” the angel said
“What? I get my own mansion? Kwame chuckled with delight.
It was a journey to be savoured, with too many beautiful things to behold in one place.
“I guess Serwa didn’t make it because of her unbelief,” Kwame smiled afterwards.
There it was- they had arrived at Kwame’s mansion. It was everything he had dreamt it to be; the lawn was ever green and bordered by sharp edged hedges, a number of pine trees guarded the path to the main door. And the house itself; it was two storey and reeked of class and affluence.
“Now that’s what I am talking about.” Kwame said as he touched the door knob. With his mind at the zenith of imaginations he opened the door to behold that which would keep him company throughout eternity.
Suddenly everything began to look dim around him, and before he realized, he blacked out. He was only resuscitated by a sharp pain that quickly intensified on his left cheek. Managing to open his eyes, he noticed that he was back in his room. It was broad daylight and the sun’s light penetrated the room through the windows. Serwa stood right on top of him with her face fraught with anger and disgust, she took another swing at Kwame; this time on his left cheek.
“Nobody knows the day of His coming!”