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Between the Madam and the Ashawo, stands the Hubby

botchway June 7, 2019

Letter to Senior Opupulepu (50)


Dear Senior, Hmmmm… Hmmmm… Hmmmm… How many times did I say Hmmmm? If your answer is three, then you are wrong, I said it four times. Senior, Hmmmm, things are happening in this God bless our homeland Ogyakrom. In fact, I am not understand how some happenings are happening in this homeland of ours.

Oh…sorry, pardon my disrespectfulness. How are you do? As for me and my house we are do fine.

Senior, I know you have given this letter to your grandchildren to read to you, because I heard from that konkonsa labourer, New-Jean or New-Gin or New-Whatever, that you both accidentally and incidentally stepped on your fallen spectacles and broke it. So until a new pair is delivered unto you, you will use the eyes of your grandchildren to be able to read.

It was a good konkonsa made by New-Jean; so now I have to be speaking in parables or else your grandchildren will know you know some things. Also, with the assembly of numerous grandchildren with their friends and sympathisers around you, let me greet you all properly.

Ladies, gentlemen, pickins and others, good day to some of you!

Senior Opupulepu, I am now proceed:

Senior, hmmmm… some somethings are happening in this land of ours, bequeathed to us by our ancestors and forefathers. It is another thing thiefing somebody’s something, but thiefing it to show that he thiefed himself is another matter all together.

You remember during skuul days some dadaba bi used to bring provisions in a forty-footer container and will hardly give anyone some. In fact, you remember he will write his name on each and every tin and can of canned food and milk. Even his container of gari had his name on it.

You remember one fine night, deep into lights-out time, when weary students were sleeping after prep, some seniors went on operation. Please, do not deny that you were not among those vigilante commandoes. Just as smart as the Israeli Mossad, they first woke this dadaba up very rudely and asked him for his keys. He drowsily put his hand under his pillow and got out the keys and handed it over to the owner of the voice that demanded it. And this poor homo sapien went back to his dreams to sleep deeply.

Senior, I think the memories are coming back. So you remember how these commandoes descended into this junior’s chop box, the size of a forty-footer container, and reduced its gross weight drastically that it scored the same weight of five maths set containers.

After chopping all the tinapas, sardines, corned beef and other strange canned and tined foods and drunk all the milk for replacement of lost energy, these seniors washed everything down with bottles of fruit juices around.

The next thing they did was to unevenly broadcast the tins and cans and bottles in front of the dormitory block and around the perimeter of the compound, close to the dormitory.

Come sunrise, and the students were up to do their mandated morning chores, when the senior on duty spied the filth around. Every empty bottle, tin and can, including the gari container, had a particular name boldly and proudly written on it. He became furious and dragged this confused junior on site and commanded him to remove every bit of rubbish from the compound. He denied responsibility, but evidence pointed otherwise, for everything there was his property, because the title deeds were all in his name.

Shocked and in tears, he cleaned up the mess and spent the whole day wondering how his chop box was broken into without any sign of breakages and damages. Even to this day, he just could not know how the culprits got his keys. He thought he was preventing thiefing of his provisions, but it ended up that his own preventive methods helped thief his provisions. He does not trust the world any more.

Senior, anyway some of the seniors who did that operation had to report immediately and compulsory by force to the Santa Josephus Health Facility, because of strange occurances of jogging stomach and low fever. In fact, their stomachs were jogging, not running, and their body temperatures were falling and rising. They had eaten things they have never eaten before, and their systems were operating under equal and opposite reactions in an abnormal direction; okyinasobio, tomorrow you go and chop dadaba food.

Senior, there is something I just heard that has happened in this land of ours. A certain son of Adam went to locate a certain daughter of Rahab and trek to Suhum-Nsawam with her. Now it was pay time, and unfortunately, this yeye man decided to visit the brothel with Uber just to look impressive to the vendors there, whose jobs was to trade their bodies. Now, after action pay now and nothing in the pocket.

You see, this daughter of Rahab was truly a Yahweh-fearing kind. When the man told her he had nothing on him but he has something at home, she followed him obediently.  At the house of her customer, I hear that she sat coolly in the sitting room while the man went indoors into the bedroom to bring money.

Senior, apparently the man had nothing. In fact, pay day was long way because the moon had only just bend the cuff. Kofi Baboni decided to harass his better for better results to give him some cowries to pay of his indebtedness. Madam, too said: “For the where?” because she did not see this clause in the for-better-for-worse agreement. How could she be responsible for cleaning up rubbish generated by someone and his recklessness?

Senior, there was some small vigilantism there, and that son of Adam over-powered his wife and thiefed enough from her to pay off his stupidity, and even pre-finance his next three operations with that daughter of Rahab.

Senior, after he had thiefed this thiefing, he did not allow sleeping dogs to sleep. In fact, he remembered how wild his wife’s abusuapanin is, so he decided to wipe off the evidence.

Senior, how he could wipe of the evidence was to send his wife ahead of him to ghost land. But, of course, madam, too want enjoy this life small, so she amplified her voice and called for reinforcement, and Kofi Baboni fled with the wind, in fact, he went ahead of the wind.

Today, as you read this letter, the location of his GPS location cannot be located, our man has gone AWOL (away without leave), and abusuapanin wants him badly; alive, dead or buried.

Senior, it is fair? How can such a thing happen in this our God bless homeland of Ogyakrom?

I hope you will not explain this parable to your grandchildren and their friends and sympathisers. And please go and get some glasses so that when I write, I can write proper English.

I am Dan for now, sorry I am Done.

It is Me!








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