I have been looking forward to this week’s story, but apparently not more than Naa Momo, who came to attack me for not posting the latest Rona story yesterday. I had to remind her that the story lands on Wednesday and not Tuesday. After 2 days of disrupted plans, dumsor, drafts disappearing and many of life’s interruptions, I present this week’s episode 😅. Happy reading, guys!

‘Dr Amoah!’

‘I am not sure why you insist on calling me that.’

‘Because doctor no be rice and stew. If I became a doctor, everybody would have to call me Dr Ghapson. Perhaps that is why I didn’t get into medical school.’

‘But you did pretty well for yourself.’

‘Oh come on! Everybody knows that being a lab technician isn’t as cool and glamorous as being a doctor. Well, at least not for me.’

‘But without you guys, my diagnosis is a guess at best.’

‘You make a solid point. I can almost convince myself that spending the day with people’s urine samples, saliva warps, stool and blood samples is as glorifying as having the nurses swoon over you, the Ghanaian mothers clamoring to introduce their eligible daughters to you, the pensioners nodding at you with respect. Almost convincing.’

‘This guy! Hahaha! That Ghanaian mother part makes my girlfriend feel so insecure. She is so convinced that one day one of my mother’s friends will win me over with her daughter.’

‘Ei! As for this one, I am on Stacy’s side oo! No be small stew she cook give you those campus days. I also remember how she patiently waited for your unemployed self to finish medical school. Definitely on Stacy’s side.’

‘Guy, relax. We are all on Team Stacy. I am a one woman man, remember?’

‘Let’s pray your mother’s friends get the memo soon enough. Rivals aside, how is Stacy doing?’

‘Apart from freaking out that someone might infect me with the virus, she is okay.’

‘This reminds me of my mother. She calls me every night to ask me how I am feeling. I keep telling her that I have been observing safety protocols with samples for ages. Somehow COVID has her spooked.’

‘Stacy is terrified. She has tweet alerts for the Ministries of Information and Health. She is always refreshing the global data website. She be COVID correspondent. She is always forwarding something new to me with a ‘Babe, have you seen this?’.’

‘The poor girl doesn’t want to lose you. Not after all her stew investments.’

‘I can’t blame her. My patients self diagnose and downplay their symptoms. They wait until things get worse before getting help. I have no way of knowing if an asymptomatic COVID-19 carrier is sitting before me, but the job is the job. We move! ’

‘That is tough chale. In the lab, we are covered in protective gear. You, not so much.’

‘Well, we wear some sort of protective gear to cover our clothes and bodies from getting into contact with the droplets. We need as many PPEs as we can get, especially those who work with the confirmed cases.’

‘Frontliners assemble! That is why Nana is making the cash rain. Now everybody dey claim frontline worker status, even the receptionist at the laboratory. 50% extra plus no taxes. COVID bonanza!’

Tweet

‘I know that my landlord is praying that the increment will apply post COVID. This morning before I left for work, he came to ask me for the remainder of my rent, because ‘Showboy has released money’. The salary no drop sef!’

‘This money eh, the people who have plans to benefit from it have nothing to do with the frontline risks.’

‘Bro! My mother will call me and suddenly come up with a reason why I need to MOMO her 300 cedis. I don’t know why Showboy couldn’t do a silent increment. Now everyone is counting my coins.’

‘Silent increment? In the year of reckoning? Election year? You dey joke! Fa Facebook Live no hooki me!’

---

Esther shakily inhaled and reached for her phone.
Mama picked up on the third ring.

‘Hello? Mama?’

‘Why are you crying?’

Her mother had a knack for accurately sensing her feelings. There was a time when Mama called her out of the blue when her boyfriend had just broken up with her, two weeks before her final exams in Coventry University. She also called her instinctively after her first big fight with Randall after the wedding. Mama just knew.

‘Mama, I am tired.’

At this point, the tears had graduated from silent ones to loud hiccups. Esther put her left hand over her mouth, even though she was sure that Randall was too preoccupied with his FIFA 20 online gaming to hear her.

‘He doesn’t help with anything. I wake up at 3am everyday to try and finish my office work from the day before. I have missed every one of my deadlines. All I want is for him to do something other than sit in the chair all day and scream goal into his headset microphone. Isn’t this his house too? Aren’t they his kids too? Can’t he see that I am swamped? He is always staring at one screen or another. This is the 21st century. He needs to be a present father. I didn’t sign up to suffer o! Me too, I am someone’s beloved daughter. I am tired!’

Mama was quiet on the other end of the line.

‘When you these young people are going to get married, you focus on how cute the couple looks together and how nice their reception dance moves are. Those are the ‘goals’. I keep telling you that nobody dances in marriage and an irresponsible man can suddenly look ugly in your eyes. I asked you before you married this man if you really knew what he was like and if he really knew what you were like. Look where we are now.’

‘Mama, I don’t need this right now.’

‘You didn’t listen then, and clearly you are not listening now. Listen to me. Esther, Randall wasn’t brought up like you. He has probably never seen his father do anything more than sit in a chair and stare at the TV, so that is what he knows. Your father was always working around the house so that is what you expect from Randall. The same is true for Randall when it comes to you. Be patient with him and with yourself.’

‘But I have told him to help-’

‘Tell him again. Be specific with your request. Randall, please watch the kids while I take a shower. But Esther, relax. We are in a pandemic. Nobody is going to judge you if your kitchen is dirty or if your kids had Indomie for lunch 3 times this week. Well, except me of course and I am not even judging you.’

‘Wait Mama, have you been spying on us?’

‘That is not the point. Be gentle with yourself. Take a shower and dress up a bit. It will do you some good. The kids are also his. Drag their playpen to the TV room and leave them there. He will learn how to fit into his role slowly.’

Esther sniffled. She was already feeling better.

‘Relax. Nobody expects you to have it all together. That burden isn’t yours to carry. Nobody is perfect.’

‘Not even you, Mama?’

‘Not even me, Cherie. Take it easy on yourself.’

---

‘Now I am fully ready to curse the guy who ate the bat in China.’

‘You are now getting there? I was ready to curse him the moment the leagues were cancelled. Who sent you? Couldn’t you eat shrimps or beef?’

‘For real! At first, I took it all in my stride. It was like a holiday I didn’t know I needed. I started working out, started an online course, took the opportunity to finish my writing, even started working on my Spanish again….’

‘And now? Let me guess. You are now fully nurturing a potbelly and the online course will have to finish itself.’

‘Spot on! Duolingo sent me some passive aggressive message yesterday about how they can see that this is no longer working.’

‘I hate those messages! I am with you. I am ready for COVID to be over.’

‘Chale, I am tired. Everybody is going live on IG. Unnecessary fights on Twitter. Everyone is organizing post-COVID strategy webinars. Bro, we all don’t know what will happen post COVID.’

Tweet

‘I miss dressing up. Saturdays were packed with energy. Naming here, wedding there, party there, soccer there. Now there is nothing to do but stare at screens.’

‘Corona needs to write concluding remarks, bro.’

‘With immediate effect!’

---

‘Officer, I greet you!’, Ato waved cheerily at the police officer seated at the barrier.

‘Where are you going to?’

‘Town’

‘To do what?’

‘One-two. One-two.’

‘The President said stay at home. Are you wiser than him?’

‘Officer, ɛkɔm di yɛn!’

‘But they have been distributing food every day?’

‘That food? They have put juju inside so that NPP will win, so I will never eat it.’

‘Ei! So how will you eat?’

‘Kpakpakpa! One-two, one-two.’

‘That goes against the President’s directive. Staying at home will save your life.’

‘The book long people don’t know everything. Nobody will die. I am outside now. Am I dead?’

‘You want to sleep in cells eh?’

‘Oh Officer, small play we dey play? I am sorry, Officer. Okay, I will go home but I need a small favour.’

‘What is it?’

‘Ever since Akufo-Addo locked the door, I have not eaten Hafiza’s waakye. 16 days, no soft wele. My head is even aching.’

‘First it was kpakpakpa, now it is waakye and soft wele. You are not serious.’

‘Officer, true for God! I need this waakye.’

‘You better vanish from my sight! The government people are serving kenkey today. Go and take some and use your imagination to chew the wele.’

‘But Officer, times are hard. Easter koraa we won’t celebrate. Small waakye too?’

‘Go and buy the waakye. I want just shitɔ, no stew. More gari.’

‘Ah Officer! I thought you said I should go back home.’

‘I have changed my mind. Or you want to eat the kenkey like that?’

‘God forbid!’

Ato started walking briskly and realized he was missing something.

‘Officer, you didn’t give me money for your waakye oo. Officer?’

---

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