Happy Wednesday!! Hope everyone is doing well! Been a busy week for me, hope yours went well too. My friend Caritas (gang leader for Team Kenkey at #theKenikodjomeetup) and her group, Tatas and Friends are giving back to the children in the Ejisu Government Hospital with Yendi Bronya (Kumasi Edition). To be a part of this, all you have to do is tick one or more things off the wish list: baby cots, clothes, toys, bed sheets, diapers, wipes, examination tables, shelves, face masks, wipes. If you prefer to donate in kind, please send your donation latest by the end of this month. They can send someone to pick up your donation wherever you are. Alternatively, you can send in your cash which will be used to purchase the items in Kumasi. Please contact them on any of the social media platforms for more information. 

Today’s episode is dedicated to Drs. Georgina Bose-Duker ,Harriet Awula Naa Hammond and Nasara Imoro, as well as every other Kenikodjo reader who became a doctor over the last week. These ladies made my day when they told me that they read the stories as a reward for meeting a study goal. I am so happy that you made it and Kenikodjo can share in your doctor diaries. Birthday shoutouts to Etsey Atisu, Korkor Addo, Papa Effah, Asantewaa Okyere-Ankamah, Abigail Sintim and Richard Kotey Neequaye! May you grow from strength to strength. Thank you for being such supportive readers! Last week, I avoided the Trump-Clinton  discussion but the Dubai one, I could not resist! Lol..

Now on to this week’s story..

‘I can explain.’

‘No, you don’t have to. It’s not like you owe me anything.’

‘But I should have said something’

‘No, it’s fine. I am happy for you though.’

‘When is the wedding?’

‘In a month’s time.’

‘Wow! Congratulations’

But he was really thinking, ‘One month to your wedding and you were asking me whether I wanted you to get a belly button piercing? Wow.’

‘Are we still going to be lunch buddies?’, she asked with a shy smile.

‘Why not? No crime in having lunch, is there?’

‘Thanks. You are a really awesome guy.’

He waited until the echo of her shoes clicking had faded away before he started the car. He had a feeling that they would be discussing which shade of pink complimented the fuchsia better, or whether or not to go with a traditional wedding cake over lunch.

As Kari Jobe’s Forever replaced the silence, he asked himself, ‘Did I just get friendzoned?’

Everyday Mr Nice Guy.

That was what Akwesi called him.

And he was right.

Back on campus, Edem would go and drop all the girls off at their hostels and even take them to Night Market to buy food and a bag of water. He was always there to give a listening ear to the grieving girlfriend or the girl that every guy was lusting after. He was either their cousin or their brother. He knew their mums- they felt safe leaving their daughters in his care.

‘Massa, play hard to get small. Don’t be so sweet and caring all the time- they will take you for granted. Sometimes hard guy, not everyday Mr Nice Guy. Otherwise you will always be their sweet and caring brother/ cousin, never the boo. Notice how I always get the girls, even though I never take them to Night Market? Ibi stra. Play hard to get.’

He didn’t follow that rule when it came to Dr Osam though.

It was amusing to see Akwesi lovestruck.

The boys were always laughing at Akwesi for breaking every rule in his Player’s Handbook.

As he turned onto the Spintex road, this thought came to him.

One day, I will also find a girl who doesn’t think of  me as a brother or cousin.

He could not help but smile.

One day.

---

The way he jerked back when he saw her coming made her suspicious.

What is Robert hiding?

When he got into the shower, she picked up his phone and went to his gallery. There was nothing suspicious there.

Maku, when did you get here? You have never been insecure about your relationship. Where is this coming from?

Just when she was about to put the phone back where she had seen it, the screen lit up.

Lol.

You are so sweet.

It was from an app she had never seen on his phone before-Snapchat.

The boys in the office had been talking about it during the lunch break. Apparently it was the perfect app for discreet sexting- the messages vanished as soon as you read them and the pictures/videos only lasted for only 24 hours.

‘This way, what happens on Snapchat stays on Snapchat. There is nothing to hide or spill. It is perfect for me.’, Eben said, his grin getting wider with every syllable.

What is Robert doing on Snapchat? 

The phone buzzed again.

So about that dinner..

Maku had seen enough.

She put the phone back where she took it from and went to bed.

The next day, Kevin was waiting for her at her desk, with a cup of green tea in his hand.

Kevin, her office husband.

Apparently every girl had one of those.

A guy in the office whose company she enjoyed, who complimented all her dresses and shoes, the one who was secretly in love with her and was just wishing for her husband/boyfriend to mess up so that he could swoop in and save the day.

Yeah, that one.

Everyone had one of those.

He dressed well- sometimes it felt as though he dressed up for her. He also smelt good. When he gave her hugs, his hand lingered over her backside ever slightly- not too long for it to seem inappropriate for the onlooker, but long enough to get her all hot and bothered.

Kevin had a way of sensing when she was having a tough day or week and swooping in to save it. He made her feel beautiful, intelligent, wanted. That was something she had not felt in a while- not since she first got pregnant. He could see it when she was hiding tears or putting up a hard girl facade. He also knew how to make her smile.

‘Hey there beautiful! Looking like you live on the front cover of Vogue Magazine. Sleep well?’

She smiled, her Snapchat worries forgotten, as she leaned in for a hug.

‘There is that smile! How is the husband?’

It was as though he was waiting for her to say ‘We are no longer together.’

Sometimes she wished she could say that. Not because Robert was a bad husband, but because she was tired of being in this same cycle over and over again.

A random quickie in the office bathroom won’t be a bad thing.

She pushed the thought away when she saw Dracula approaching.

Lusting after your co-worker is inappropriate.

She could hear it in Dracula’s voice. Only Dracula would use a word like lusting in a situation like this- with her iconic straight face.

---

Everyone was at Akwesi’s place as usual. They were playing FIFA 17 and having random conversations when Joseph walked in.

‘Just the man I have been waiting for.’

‘Why, wossop?’

‘So your man figa say what? He will build an interchange with fancy lights and win the election? Ah akoa wei paa?

Akwesi laughed.

‘Guys, Mahama is pulling an FBI emails move. Commissioning projects left and right. Abi we get short memory? Y’all should respect Joseph- he is heading to Flagstaff House. John Mahama is going to toaso*!’

‘No way! Don’t blaspheme! Another 4 years, you have got to be kidding me.’

‘Sit there and be using big words. Did you see the ceremony?’

‘You mean the rally? That thing was a disguised rally oo.’

‘It was on UTV too- that is the station for the masses.’

‘Listen, it is not interchanges that we need. All we need is for Mahama to leave office by January 2017. Is it disco light that we have not seen before?’

‘Haters will say disco light. Watch Mahama light his way into the Flagstaff House.’

‘Akwesi, why you be NDC?’, one of the boys asked.

‘Naah. I am everywhere oo. If you are NDC, I am NDC with you. If you are NPP, I am NPP with you. The independent candidate sef, I dey in back! I am on the winning side- whichever one that may be.’

‘My plan for this election is for anyone but Mahama to win.’

‘Anyone but Mahama sen? So the independent candidate sef?’

‘Why not? Maybe he will do a better job.’

‘We don’t have time for trial and error. Change is coming. That is what is important. Mahama and his cronies must go. How can you tell me that this interchange makes the place look like Dubai and that I should worship it? I mean how?’

‘Chale, boys take the matter personal oo. My issue with the NPP is that they are focusing on social media campaigns. Elections are not won on social media- go bizz Clinton.’

‘Stop comparing the US elections with that of Ghana. Different rules, diferent set of candidates, different records. This is not burger and chips matter, purely waakye with egg, wele and talia*.’

‘All food be food.Me, I don’t care who wins- so long as it is not Mahama.That guy eh?’

‘NPP dey campaign oo. 7th December, we shall see.’

‘Oh by the way, did you see what happened with Martin Amidu? That might remind Ghanaians of how corrupt the NDC has been.’

‘Haha, did you see the boxing arena? The people are happy- they don’t care about judgment debt.’

‘Maybe that is the problem- too many people care about themselves and too few about the country. You this guy sed, you are only voting NDC because of the contracts your father will get, not because of how he will govern. All this be adidigya‘

‘See this guy who is talking chao. You don’t even have a voter’s ID card.’

‘JM anaa? Onaaapo! Kofi Dubai papa paa!’

‘Look at this one too. After all the analysis we have done, you have come with jingles and nicknames. That be what we go chop?’

Edem’s phone buzzed.

It was a text message from Dr Osam.

Hi Edem. Are you with Akwesi? Please don’t let him see this. We need to talk.

He stepped away sleathily into the bathroom and made sure it was locked before he made the call.

After listening intently for a few seconds, he said, ‘Okay, I am on my way.’

See you next week!

____

*toaso – continue reigning as President

*talia– spaghetti

*adidigya– selfishly keeping the spoils to one’s self

---

Happy Wednesday, guys! Time seems to be flying by- Wednesdays come by too often these days. Welcome to all our new readers- I see you! Nothing gives me new energy like a crop of new readers who are also binge readers <3. For those of you wondering where the titles comes from, I will be honest- I don’t know. Just like the stories, they seep through my fingers when I start to type. Too many of my beloved ‘public’ readers are born in the month of November- this week’s episode is dedicated to Dorinda, Elorm, Elizabeth, Ama Quame, Sylvia, Efe, Ewura Adjwoa and my beloved Caleb! 

‘He’s going to Takoradi. Per diem, nice hotel, good food, I would not mind trading places with him. Plus I hear the girls there are pretty generous with you know what I mean.’

‘I hear that guy in Audit is getting promoted to Junior Partner soon.’

‘So Kwakyewaa and Vincent have decided to go their separate ways. Who should leave the firm for who to stay? Everyone wants to live the good life.’

‘Did you see Austin’s new ride? The wheels are sick mehn!’

‘The Jessica girl lef him oo. After the Kempinski private dinners, 6 ft cakes, flowers and perfume. She left him. I weak give am sef!’

Gossip.

One thing boys did flawlessly but didn’t get enough credit for.

Edem tilted his head to the right and tried to drown them out. He was more preoccupied with other things- like why he had dreamt about Nadia three nights in a row.

It was always the same dream.

They were eating banku together in one bowl. She was teasing him as usual and he was enjoying the attention, particularly because the other boys were giving him the side eye. Just before he took his last morsel of banku, he noticed that she had an engagement ring on her finger.

With shock boldly drawn all over his face, he asked, ‘Are you getting married?’

But for the fact that they were sitting down, she would have probably fallen face down from the shock.

‘Listen, I can explain-‘

That was always where he woke up.

Funny enough, the dream didn’t faze him as much as he would have expected it to. It was probably because he wasn’t supposed to be with her in the first place. Or perhaps it was because he got the sense that there was no way that Nadia didn’t have other men hovering around her. She was too hot. Or perhaps it was the fact that she really wasn’t his type.

He liked the Dr Maame Esi kinda girl.

Pretty. fashionable but not full of herself, intelligent, Christian, the kind of girl Grams would approve of.

So it was funny that Akwasi was the one who had ended up with her. From the look of things, Akwasi really liked the girl. He had stopped cussing or sagging his trousers. He kept the fade haircut because she liked it and most importantly, he followed her to church.

Church. Akwasi.

Fear woman.

---

Maku had a migraine.

Her worst nightmare was back from her annual leave.

Not only would she have a lot of fresh energy to be petty with, she would also be cranky about having to come back to work.

Akosua Dracula. That’s what she called her.

56 or so years old. Short. Mother of 4 boys. Wore too much gold- rings, bracelet, anklet, chain, lockets. Over critical. Perfectionist. Haughty. Impossible.

God, I don’t need this kind of drama. Not after what happened last night.

She had told Robert about the pregnancy test.

‘I did a pregnancy test two nights ago. It was positive. We are going to have another baby.’

Silence.

She looked at him. He was fidgeting with his car keys, his eyes avoiding hers.

‘Aren’t you going to say anything?’

Silence.

‘Say something. You are making me feel silly.’

‘Congratulations.’

His voice was cold, distant and void of emotion.

‘Congratulations? That’s all you have to say?’

‘What do you want me to say, Maku? I am happy for you? Great news? I am excited? Yaaayy? What is the point of lying to you? You can see right through it anyway.’

‘I am happy for you? Seriously? Why are you making it sound as if I made this baby all by myself? It is your child too. Why can’t you be a little happy?’

‘I see you judging me. And yet you didn’t exactly waltz in here with a spring in your step. Happy? I am not happy. I am not happy that I have to endure another 9 month + 1 year cycle of whatever this is. Would you be happy if you had to resort to pornography and masturbation to satisfy your needs, because you can’t sleep with your wife?’

‘Porn? Masturbation? Has it come to this?’

‘What would you rather have me do? Sleep with another woman? Apart from defiling our marital bed, I would have to worry about diseases and spiritual ties. So don’t play the victim here. I am the one trying to make this situation work.’

There it was again- that migraine.

These days it was a lot more frequent.

Anytime they fought, her head would pound and her eyes would water up. All she wanted to do now was to go back in time and be a little girl again, sitting outside with her family, eating kontomire stew with koobi and cocoyam from an earthenware bowl. With rhe air musked with the smell of smoke from the kerosine lamp, they would eat, chat and drive away mosquitoes until everyone felt sleepy. She remembered looking at her mother and marvelling at how she was able to take care of all 6 of them.

Now here she was with an unwanted baby on the way, a husband who planned to masturbate a whole year away and of course, a job that drained the life that was left out of her.

She looked up at Dracula again. Lost in thought, she had missed whatever the woman had asked her to do. Instead of going off on a trajectory, she looked concerned.

‘What’s eating you up?’

The tears that rolled down her cheeks made it impossible to stick to the ‘I will be just fine’ rhetoric. For the first time ever, she let someone into the private sanctuary she had created of her life.

‘I am pregnant and I am not even happy about that because I am still getting my life and marriage back on track from the first one. My husband is tired of the whole cycle. Masturbation and porn are the other woman. I may have to defer my course for another year. Basically, my life is a wreck.’

Dracula rubbed her back with her gold ring laden hands.

‘I have been where you are. It is easy to freak out because life is not going according to the schedule you had laid out for it. I hated being pregnant too. By the second pregnancy, I was ready to tie my ovaries. My children are strong boys and I had them at a time when most women stayed at home and cooked hot meals for their children. I was in high heels, working at a bank with two children under the age of 4. I doubted myself. I wept. I was ridden with guilt. It was crazy-‘

Maku smiled.

‘- but it was worth it. So here is what you will do. Wash your face and reapply your makeup. Raise your head high and slay at work. Go home and nurse your son. Exercise. Eat. Drink a glass of wine or sobolo, whichever one you prefer. Things may not be perfect but you are doing okay. Heck, you are doing a great job. It might not seem like it now but you are- trust me.’

---

Maame Esi shifted the little boy to her right. She could feel Pastor Michael’s eyes on her.

This was the downside about being young, single and active in church. Everyone was either trying to hit on her or engage in matchmaking. The head pastor’s wife was on a mission to get her to marry one of the youth pastors.

Her phone vibrated.

Without looking at it, she knew it was Akwasi.

He had grown on her, surprisingly. She found herself looking forward to his texts and phone calls. He came with her to church whenever he could. When he could not, he would call her to ask her what he missed. He was sweet, sensitive and easy to fall for. He could show up with lunch at her work place or wait for her to finish a late night shift. The other day, she was too tired to drive home so he drove her home in his car and returned for her car as well. Her mother of course wanted her to be with someone who had a full time job.

‘How can you end up with a ‘business man’? What exactly is business man? This Jack of all trades thing is not working for me. He needs a regular 8 to 5 in a known establishment with a decent salary. What happens when doctors are on strike? How are you going to live? Kpakpakpa? Melt whatever he is selling at the time into cash? Not on my watch.’

She wanted to tell her mother that it was not her call to make, and that regular jobs didn’t guarantee happiness, and that other things mattered to her more than a salary, and that she should stop trying to live life through her daughter and other things but instead she smiled politely.

After all, God says we should honour our parents. 

---

Edem was waiting for the elevator doors to open so that he could go to his car. They opened to reveal Nadia bidding a gentleman farewell with a kiss. He waited until the person had driven off before he walked towards her. She was wearing a peach bodycon dress with open toe heels. The waves in her Brazilian weave were so thick and full that he wanted to run his fingers through them.

‘Nadia’

‘Edem! Have you been out here for long?’

‘No, I just got here.’

‘Oh okay. Done for the day?’

‘Yep, my grandmother needs company. Nadia, be honest with me. Are you getting married?’

‘Edem, I can explain-‘

See you next week, amigos! ❤️

Happy Wednesday! Special thanks to everyone who participated in the #Kenikodjoat2 celebration. Instead of putting up an anniversary post that almost nobody will read, I put together a set of tweets and Facebook status updates with the hashtag. It gave us a few more readers, and to them, I say welcome! The TedX talk went well; I will put up the text of the talk on the blog within the week. This week’s episode is dedicated to my beloved Nana Yaa Aku Awuku! Happy birthday princess! ❤

P.S: My sister has started a blog too. (Yes, we are keeping the blogging streak in the family!) The first post talks about our childhood. You should check out my Mickey Mouse inspired hairstyle in the 90s! Happy reading and may the month of November be a blessing to all of us! 🙂

The phone buzzed one more time.

Edem ignored it. He was trying to finish his report before the day ended and he didn’t want any more distractions.

He heard the clicking of her heels even before he saw her. He had learnt how to distinguish Nadia’s ‘catwalk’ from all the other girls’ walks. He could tell when it was Akosua walking down the hallways because she always dragged her feet in an exaggerated manner. Grace always walked as if her shoes were bigger than her feet. Nadia glided on the floor, the click of her shoes almost musical. When she walked, she seemed to hypnotise everyone who fixed their eyes on her.

‘It feels like you have been ignoring me since you got back.’

She was right but it was easier to play dumb than to offer excuses.

‘Why would anyone in his right mind do that?’

She smiled and pulled him to his feet to join her for lunch.

He knew that continuing to hang around her was troublesome- like playing with fire, but as it turned out, he has a thing for arson.

Just one more lunch date…

---

This wasn’t how he had imagined his life at age 26. He woke up everyday praying that the elections were the next day. Joseph could hardly wait until December 7th so that he could finally change his job title from Campaign Strategist on LinkedIn to something fancy like Special Advisor to somebody important.

Because foot soldier wasn’t sexy enough for the girl of his dreams to boast about.

‘Meet my boyfriend Joseph. He is a foot soldier for the National Democratic Congress.’

Exactly.

Not sexy.

He was born to be a politician. That is why after the SRC elections were over, he had spent that vacation holed up in a secluded location, coming up with tweets for the electoral campaign, instead of applying for an internship at Ecobank.

You have potential. 

That was what the man who sat in the back of the V8 had said to him the day he was recruited. He believed him. In a few years’ time, he knew he would rise to the top as Minister for Communications. That was why he woke up early every day  to listen to the BBC and pick pointers on public speaking from the people on the radio.

There were other young men like him. The digital army, that’s what they called themselves. Nobody ever gave them any more recognition other than’Good job today, guys’ and yet the victory of the NDC in the elections rested on their shoulders.

Theirs and Charlotte Osei’s shoulders.

He silently hoped that all the hustle and bustle with the disqualified candidates would not end up delaying  Election Day. He was looking forward to the celebratory bonus that would come after they had won the elections. They had never seen the President before or even heard from him, ever since the campaign started.

‘The President is a busy man. He is grateful for your service. Keep up the good work.’

Sounded rehearsed but Joseph held on to it like the way a drowning man held on to straw.

His sister was less hopeful and more skeptical.

‘This political career thing is not going to work. I hope you have a plan B. Even I don’t plan to vote for John Mahama. If he wins again, I am moving to Côte d’Ivoire. I don’t know what will be left of Ghana when his term is over.’

He needed this win more than he was willing to admit. His ego needed a boost. Edem was working in one of the biggest auditing firms in the country. Akwesi was always selling one thing or another- the entrepreneurial life seemed to be working for him. Then again Akwesi could make being a whatsapp group chat admin feel more lucrative than working at a bank. Whenever the boys in his year group were talking about themselves, he always had to go offline. Footsoldier wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you proudly announce on ‘What have you been up to?’ Day.

I need this to work!

---

Shoot! Shoot! I can’t be pregnant again!

Maku checked her menstrual tracking app one more time and shut her eyes in frustration. Her period was one week late and her app had dutifully reminded her that ‘Your period seems to be late’.

‘What is Robert going to say?’

This would be her second pregnancy in their three year marriage. She was already dreading going through the cycle all over again. After Manuel was born, it has taken a whole year for her breasts to return to their supple bikini-worthy size and for her to feel sexy again. Her pregnancy was a difficult one and in the last two months, the doctors had told her to avoid carbohydrates. As if that wasn’t enough, it had to be a caesarean operation because all the water was finished and she was not dilating enough for his head to come out. The sore had taken forever to heal and coupled with her swollen nipples, she didn’t have the heart to show up and be Robert’s sexy wife.

She knew that Robert resented the situation. She also knew that he would not voice his frustrations because she had birthed his son- the first fruit of his loins. She could feel them drifting apart but between breast feeding, changing diapers, tears (both Manuel’s and hers), doctor’s appointments and irregular bed times, there was almost nothing she could do. This wasn’t how she had envisaged things at all. After her fairytale wedding at age 25, she was looking forward to just enjoying life with Robert and seeing a little of the world. She even started an evening class MBA in Marketing. Manuel coming into the picture meant that she had to defer her course until further notice.

And then there was work. Apart from the fact that her direct supervisor looked at her as though pregnancy was a sign of weakness, her male colleagues constantly patronised her. If it wasn’t a joke about her being too tired from nursing her son the night before, then it was her being too busy with mothering duties to do her job. It was almost as if she had to work extra hard to prove to them that she could still  do the job she used to do before she got pregnant. Never mind that she did ten times a better job than most of them did on any day. Of course there was Mr Parker, her boss who kept looking at her as if she had betrayed him and got him pregnant without his permission.

She could not be pregnant again! God forbid it!

Her mother would have asked her to wash her mouth and pray for forgiveness if she could read her mind. She could almost hear her in her mind’s ear.

‘Children are a gift from God! You should be grateful that you have been blessed with children. Many women spend nights crying to God when 8 years have gone by without a child and every woman in their husband’s family is silently accusing them of barrenness. Don’t be ungrateful!’

She wasn’t.

She just wished having a child would not turn her life upside down. She wanted to rise in her career and be the best banker she could be- the one she used to be before Manuel came along. She wanted to be Robert’s sexy wife- the Maku he married. She wanted to join the rest of the bankers for client socialisation night instead of rushing home to feed Manuel mashed yam and groundnut soup. She wanted to watch a good movie, not another episode of Barney.

She loved her son. God knows she did- but something told her that she would have to choose which path to follow. She also knew that the whole world would crucify her if she chose her job over her family. Tired of tossing it around in her head, she stepped out for a few minutes and bought a pregnancy test from the pharmacy.

It was only when she had finally put Manuel to bed, packed her husband’s lunch and taken a bath that she had the courage to take out the test from her bag. She locked herself in the bathroom, keeping an ear open for changes in the Robert’s snoring. Hurriedly reading the instructions, she held her breath when she urinated on the stick.

One line, not pregnant. Two lines, pregnant. 

When she looked at the stick, she saw what her inner person already knew:

Two lines, pregnant.

See you next week! 

Apologies for the delay. School has reopened and Jurispridence was 😩😩 (yeah that’s how best to describe it!)

That was quite the welcome! I have never had this many views for any of my stories in one week- ever! I can’t tell if it is because Edem had an accident so early in the story or if it was about the uncanny similarities to the real life PwC. I got a lot of interesting messages in my Facebook inbox too. #8to5 is already making a name for itself..yaaay! The good thing is we have a lot of auditors and accountants in the Kenikodjo family now. You are most welcome! Feel at home! Please do read the older stories and leave a comment.I love feedback!

As for those accusing me of killing all the Ewes in my stories, my heart is broken. Prosper is alive, isn’t he? That should count for something..lol! Besides, we don’t even know if Edem survived or not. Prematurely judgemental things 😒. This week is full of exciting news- I guest lectured an e-commerce class in Regent University on Monday. The TedXCentralUniversityWomen event is this Saturday and I am still rummaging through my head for some deep things to say :).

But my favourite thing about October is the fact that we are turning 2 on Friday, 28th October, 2016!! Yes!!! Just thinking about it makes me feel like dancing. Over the last week, Facebook memories have helped me relive the #Kenikodjoquotes competition we had last year. No, we are not doing a quotes competition this year. This year’s celebration is rather a quiet one. I will put up the evaluatory (if that’s even a word) post but I would like to hear from you. You, the binge reader. You, the silent reader. You, the guy with the funny comments. You, the serial tweeter. You, the ‘I have a whatsapp group that analyses the stories’ guy. You, the ‘I hate reading but I made an exception for you’ lady. Just put up a post on social media with the hashtag #Kenikodjoat2 and tell me what you love, what you hate, what you think could be better, what stories made you cry, what story changed your life, who introduced you to your first story, your favourite quote, your favourite character, what you want to see in the next year, anything.. Happy birthday in advance to all of us! ❤

Now before you insult me in your head for talking too much, let’s go and see if we have a funeral to attend or not!

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he smelt was Akwesi’s perfume. The beeping sound from the monitor was deafening but it told him that he was alive. He could not see clearly for a few seconds so he blinked a few more times.

‘Shoot, he is alive! Who would have thought?!’

Akwesi’s wide grin told Edem what he knew Akwesi would never open his mouth to say- I am glad you are alive, homie!

‘You fool waa! Did you think I was going to leave you alone to eat all the domedo left in the world? Not to talk of the women. They need options- not everyone has an appetite for Mr Insatiable Sweet Talking Lover Boy. Sometimes people want intelligent, God fearing, responsible men like me. The world is a better place because I am in it, you barb? Speaking of women, where is Grams?’

‘I sent her home to get some rest. I told her I would call her as soon as you opened your eyes. You’ve been out for almost a day mehn! The good thing about this is it has given me a legitimate reason to flirt with the nurses. I hear the doctor on duty this evening is also a woman- that’s the only reason why I am here. Otherwise, it would have been Mawuli keeping watch.’

‘You sef! I am sure you would have told Grams that my last words were that she should give you all my FIFA games.’

‘I am glad we both have similar expectations of what your will should look like.’

Edem shook his head and settled back into bed as Akwesi called Grams.

‘Edem’

‘Hey Grams’

‘You gave me quite the scare.’

‘I know and I am sorry. Were the boys on their best behaviour while I was away?’

‘Yes, they were. Mawuli even cooked me breakfast.’

‘Haha! You might end up in the hospital like me if you eat food cooked by these boys.’

Grams’ laugh was refreshing. He knew without a doubt that she had stayed up all night praying for God to preserve his life.

‘I am glad you are okay.’

‘Me too, Grams, me too. See you tomorrow.’

‘I love you, son.’

‘I love you too, Grams.’

He waited until he heard the click on the other end before he hung up. Realizing how easily he could have lost his life and left Grams all alone sobered him.

---

Joe Mettle’s Ɔwanwani was blocking out all the angry thoughts.

There was just something about the way he ministered. It didn’t matter who else was worshipping with him. He was just having a great time in His father’s presence-with or without an audience. He just had a way of pulling you in with him. That was the main reason why she was listening to him right now. Mum and Dad had found a way to pull her right in the middle of their World War 45 or whatever, she had honestly lost count. Their getting divorced was still the lowest point in Maame Esi’s life. They had been married for 32 years without incident and then one day, just before Maame Esi’s induction ceremony, they sprang the news on her. Mummy mumbled something about being unhappy for the last decade while Daddy avoided her gaze.

They had always been the perfect couple- her role models, both of them doctors just like her. There were still a lot of nurses who looked up expecting to see her dad when they saw Dr Osam on the duty sheet. Today the argument was about whether or not Daddy was allowed to bring a ‘plus one’ to her birthday dinner in two weeks’ time. Mummy ranted and raved about how it was not about them and how Daddy needed to be a little less selfish and consider the feelings of their daughter.

She would have agreed with her if she had not known that it was just Mummy’s way of using her as a weapon once again. Like she did when they were deciding who got the house. Or the dogs. Or the Rav4. Or where to have Christmas dinner.

And this time, a seat at her birthday dinner.

To be honest, she did not feel excited about the dinner any longer.

‘Thanks for ruining this too.’, she muttered under her breath before she left home for her shift.

Church had become her refuge. If she was not working in the hospital, she was at church- singing, helping to fill out sandwiches, volunteering on the fundraising committee, anything really…

Anything to avoid dealing with Mummy whining at home about wasting her time on a hospital fairy tale.

The hospital was also home for her in some ways. She had spent many a night sleeping in one of the rooms because both Mummy and Daddy had to work. She knew where the best waakye was, which floors had clean toilets, which nurses to avoid, where to take a quick nap on a night shift, which corner had 3G reception and where to pray. She spent a lot of time doing that- praying. It calmed her.

She made her way to the Department of Radiology to give a bar of Kingsbite to the old man in the last room on the 2nd floor. His eyes, the only things with life left in them, lit when he saw her.

‘You came back.’

‘Of course, I did. I brought you chocolates too.’

‘You are really my guardian angel. How did you know?’

‘I wish I could say I was psychic but you mentioned chocolate in your sleep last night. Plus I know you are a champion for all things Ghanaian so I knew I could not go wrong.’

He laughed. It was a hollow laugh probably because he was still in pain.

‘How is the pain today?’

‘It was an 8 before you walked in but your smile made it a 3.’

‘I bet you have charmed your way out of many things in this life, haven’t you?’

‘Yep! I have quite the record. I should hide this chocolate just in case the nurses come in to rain on my parade.’

‘Do that. I have to go now. My shift starts in 30 minutes.’

‘Take care of yourself.’

‘See you tomorrow, Mr Ofori.’

When she closed his door, she adjusted her white coat and walked away, pretending as if she didn’t know that the male nurses were checking out her bum.

---

I am in love!

That was the first thing Akwesi thought when he saw her. He sniffed in her flowery perfume again. He knew her name was Dr Osam from the badge she had on her chest. Her hair was tucked away neatly behind her, making it easier to notice her high cheek bones and perfect smile. He could tell that she was a church girl- the cross locket on her chain and her wristband gave it away. She was wearing blue black trousers with a pink shirt and heels. He could tell that she genuinely cared for her patients.

‘So your MRI results look good. You are a lucky man. Do you have any pains in any part of your body?’

‘Nope. I just feel really rested.’

‘I hear you were out for a while. That would explain it. So if by tomorrow morning everything remains the same, you can go home.’

‘Thanks Doc.’

She scribbled something in his folder and turned to Akwesi.

‘Your eyes are literally boring a hole in the back of my head.’

Akwesi smiled.

‘I am just wondering how sick I have to be to get a date with you.’

Turning back to Edem, she asked, ‘Does he do this all the time?’

‘Without fail!’

‘Ignore the traitor. Let’s try again. My name is Akwesi and today is the best day of my life.’

Maame Esi laughed.

‘I don’t believe in hospital fairytales, Akwesi.’

‘Who said anything about fairytales, beautiful? Fairytales end with horses turned back into mice and Cinderella ends up with a missing shoe.  You still haven’t told me your name.’

‘Maame Esi.’

‘There you go. I see that smile too.’

Edem laughed. He had seen this many times before. Akwesi would walk away with the girl’s name and number, plus a tentative date for lunch or dinner.

As soon as she left, Akwesi belted out Alicia Keys’ This girl is on fire.

‘You know she can probably hear you in the hallway, right?

‘Yeah, it would make her ‘blush’ a bit more. That’s a home run for me!’

---

‘You have got to be kidding me! A welcome home party? With kenkey and domedo*? Grams, you didn’t have to.’

‘Actually, it was the boys who came up with the idea.’

Akwesi turned to Edem.

‘You would not believe it but Joseph also contributed to the party.’

‘Joseph! The most chisel* boy on earth? Wow, I should have more near death experiences.’

Without looking up, he knew that Grams was giving him the ‘Don’t be silly’ look.

They were all there- Joseph. Mawuli, Akwesi and Grams.

He listened in on Joseph and Mawuli’s conversation.

‘I am telling you! Change is coming! People are tired oo. Nana bɛba!’

‘Massa, it is simple. Just show me three Zongos that will vote for Nana and I will be convinced that you can win the election. Until then, watch me smile all the way to the polling station as JM wins the election. Hashtag JM toaso!’

Edem broke in, ‘Guys, guys, can we just eat in peace?’

‘Sure, but under Nana, the balls of kenkey will be bigger. That’s a fact! We are going to put money back in the pockets of the people’

‘Ah! Why, Nana get maize farm?’

They laughed as Edem ignored them and reached for the plate of domedo to fill his plate. Once again, he looked at Grams and thanked God that he did not die.

It was good to be back home.

See you next week!

*chisel- miser

*domedo- grilled pork