ThoughtsInTots

The NPP presidential race, to me, feels less like a contest of popularity and more like a mirror of our political psychology: what we admire, what we fear, and what we repeatedly mistake for leadership. Aspirant 1 walks into the room like what we have been conditioned to call the perfect gentleman. Polished. Respectful. Experienced. The kind of man you would proudly introduce to your parents and your pastors. He carries himself with a softness that makes people feel safe. And yet, I worry about softness when the storms of leadership come. Charisma without firmness can be dangerous. Gentleness without authority can be costly. My fear is not that he lacks intelligence, but that he may lack the hardness required to resist manipulation. A leader who cannot say “no” strongly enough risks becoming a vessel; not a visionary, but a product of the ambitions of those around him. Aspirant 2 is cut from the opposite cloth. He does not bend easily. His presence alone feels like a warning. You...

They linger where the lantern light dies, Invisible shadows wearing borrowed skins, Eyes like mirrors cracked by silence and existence, Breathing the dust of nightmares dared and told. Their voices are rivers with no mouth, With songs unpinned, unhinged from the throat of time, Stanzas and lines erased before they even rhyme. They are not storms, yet thunder follows, not ghosts, yet doors refuse to close. They leave no footprints, only questions. They lay bare riddles that the earth half-knows. We speak of them as absence clothed, as if the night itself could steal a stare, but even absence has a border, has a presence.  But them, they walk beyond, unthreaded, bare. They come on the hush of broken drumbeats  that no dancer dares to follow,wearing the decay of forgotten despair with faces veiled in ancestral rites. Between the fire and the silence, between the living and the dead, they are the gods who lost their story. They walk where Legba bars the gate, yet carry no offering...

 The Prompt: I came across a rather unconventional comment under one of the many political posts and i have been both amused and intrigued. The Comment(paraphrased): We are thinking humans—So, In the spirit of common sense, let us not act like the animals on our political flags.  The Discussion: Let's take the two biggest and popular political parties in Ghana (biggest and popular as defined by the voting strength in the 2024 elections). The NPP has the Elephant as their emblem/totem/symbol while the NDC has the Eagle and Umbrella. Since we are looking at animals, let's stay with the Elephant and the Eagle. The Views: My amusement stemmed from the fact that the individual might have written the comment from the "classes of animals" perspective(by Carolus (Carl) Linnaeus). Where his comment was to urge humans not lower their ranks to that of the other classes of animals as they shared their political debates. The intriguing part is carved where it is realised these an...

  iStock The chimming of the old rusty clock Signalled it was time to begin The compulsory but unpleasant race We walked and searched  through the streets of Prampram  Each way,each street and each turn  Brought about magical views and speculations That was sparked with clarity and contempt We only wanted equality and freedom; Freedom that represented nothin  but a chance to be better We were not to blamed based on something  We had no control over The smells of harmattan surrounded us As we rested on a fallen tree The truth was dawned; When the white clouds appeared They destroyed the bodies and souls of us And in the process;destroyed themselves Our purpose was to bridge that gap Sunlight rimmed the magnificent Chapel Reflecting a better tomorrow With a focus on our imagination One thing we knew was that, Nature did nothing Uselessly.

 We made choices And the choices made us We merged and became one Time drifted Yet stood still It paused in juvenile leaps   And then magic happened  You became mine And I ...yours

 There are two drunkards walking on the street behind my window.  They're teasing eachother about who is drunker.  One suggested they say "Gapoha" to test the level of drunkenness.  One did...the other in saying it choked on the "Ga....." and the debate was settled. 

 When you find your way home In gladness will I receive your return  For you have been gone for long My mind may forget you But my body knows you by name By smell, by touch When you find your way home  Wholeheartedly will our embraces be Like a lost friend, like a lost love Surrendering to you as it should As it has always wanted No rush No hurry  Gentle strokes On that blank canvas  Hold the brush Dip in wet paint Top to down Left to right Let me be your endless art piece! Etsy.com

 Father Matthew smiled as he saw me emerge from the small gathering. We were all clad in white robes with strings as fasteners around our waists. The robes, our skin, his skin, yes his albino skin together with the red earth gave such a contrasting yet intriguing detail .  I stood at the shallow end of the stream which served as the source of water to the entire village. I was one of the new converts and the last to be baptised. They said i had to die and resurrect three times to complete the rite.  "Are you anxious my child?" Father inquired. "Yes I am" , I gently whispered.  📸: Etsy.com  Father Mathew slightly nodded and smiled. "It will be over soon and that anxiety will be replaced with joy".He added. One hand on my back, the other on my forehead.  Eyes closed, heart pounding. Then...I heard it! It was clear and sharp! An unmistakable voice!! It resided in my head, only in mine. This message wasn't like the others, it wasn't a suggestion. It w...

 The large white ships arrived, They saw how the black sea sand glistened  They drooled over wanting to feel, to possess, to devour. But they knew their feet were not designed for such sand  So they waited... They waited and saw how the people of black sea sand fought among themselves.  Fought over what should have united them to drive the large white ships away. They fought over food, language,dominance among all non.sense lots. The large white ships arrived  They saw how the black sea sand glistened before, Now it was pale as its colour faded underneath brotherly blood. They drooled knowing they could feel, possess and devour. Knowing their feet could now control the design of such sand, They waited no more.

 I was listening to a radio program in the taxi I joined this afternoon.  The program was centered on "Spilling truth about something you lied about in the past" One man's story left me dumbfounded..... He narrates how his two sisters in law gave birth at the same time in the same hospital.  He was asked by his brothers to deliver food to their wives. He got there and found both mothers asleep by their babies in the cot beside their beds. Then an idea occurred to him... He swapped the babies and when he decided to swap them back to their rightful cots, an aunt entered.  Out of fear, he left the hospital.  Two years later, the baby girls have grown with different parents with "Mr.Swapper" still living with them in the same house. An issue popped up with one family, one thing led to another and DNA got inside..because the two fathers are actually half-brothers, what happened eventually happened. Court case came in, divorce looming,broken home in the process with M...

  Title: Humility-Defined and Made Practical  Genre: Non-Fiction (Spirituality) Author: Ato Tutu Baidoo Reviewer: Rosemond (Ama Rose) Nyansafo  "Humility-Defined and Made Practical" by Ato Tutu Baidoo is a thought-provoking and deeply introspective book that explores the concept of humility in a refreshing and profound way. As you delve into its pages, you embark on a transformative journey of self-discovery that challenges your perception of humility and encourages personal growth. The author's writing style is captivating and eloquent, effortlessly weaving together personal anecdotes, philosophical musings, and insightful observations. Each page brims with wisdom and invites readers to reflect on their own beliefs and attitudes towards humility. The author's ability to seamlessly blend personal experiences with broader philosophical concepts allows for a relatable and engaging read. What sets "Humility" apart is its unique perspective on humility, challeng...

  BOOK TITLE- ADZE GENRE- FICTION AUTHOR- KOFI DZOGBEWU REVIEWER- ROSEMOND (AMA ROSE) NYANSAFO "Adze" by Kofi Dzogbewu is a fascinating and immersive novel set in the heart of West Africa, which delves into the rich world of Ghanaian mythology and culture. This book takes readers on a thrilling adventure, filled with suspense, magic, and timeless lessons. The story revolves around the central character, Selase, a young woman who discovers her unique powers as an Adze, a supernatural being in the Ghanaian folklore while being held in captive in the “facility”. As she grapples with her newfound abilities, Selase is faced with a crucial decision that could forever change the delicate balance between humans and the spirit world. One of the strengths of "Adze" lies in the author's vivid storytelling abilities. Kofi Dzogbewu effortlessly weaves together the complexities of Ghanaian mythology, history, and contemporary issues, making the narrative both alluring and edu...

  Book Title: Revenge from the African Jungle Genre:Literary Fiction  Author: Fuseini Abubakar   Reviewer: Rosemond (Ama Rose) Nyansafo  Revenge from the African Jungle by Fuseini Abubakar is a captivating adventure novel that takes readers on a thrilling journey through the African jungle. The story is filled with suspense, action, and themes of redemption, making it an engaging and satisfying read. The novel follows the protagonist, Bariki, a young African man seeking to find his purpose and path through several opportunities. His luck shines when he identifies the skill of hunting and discovers a “hunting friend” along this expedition. His good fortune becomes a bad omen to another group of others set deep within the African Jungle. As Bariki expands his fortunes and fame, his enemies in contrast widen their plots to take their revenge. Abubakar's writing style is vivid and descriptive, painting a clear and concise picture of the dense African jungle and...

  One day, the chants of joy  that once escaped from vocal cords. Would be lesser than mere whispers, In this life's hurdles and lots. We patiently await the moment, with careful impatience. When stimulus and empathy  bear resemblance to us no more. Of that very time,  where gravity shall bear us no grudge.

 With that sad stricken face and heaviness gnawing at her timid heart, she banged the wooden door and hurriedly stepped outside. She was met with the cold wind gently massaging the frown on her face. She remembered she had left her favorite red scarf but she wasn't perturbed, she would go back later for it. Her legs moved but not in the direction of her brain. She heard voices.... and then shouts...and then cries but before her mind could decipher,the bicycle with its rider had come straight at her like a morsel of fufu headed for the mouth. In just that moment of brief, she had tried to escape the awaiting embrace of the gutter whose smell could awaken the dead and send a sane man crazy at the same time.  Worse, this particular gutter had multiple contents of unrecognizable matter...  The inevitable happened as she fell into it like a ripe mango falling to the surface of the earth. The frown and anger she felt turned into despair and anguish.  Should she rise to fac...

Ami stared blankly at the questions laid in front of her begging for answers... Honestly she had no clue and didn't even know where to begin. She thought the test was going to be solely on one's personal experience in the classroom situation since the job in question was Teaching. She had passed the first hurdle which was the interview session and went ahead to download a whole book on "Principles of Education" when she was told there was going to be a test; the last obstacle to her financial freedom after three years of staying home.  Her neighbours were tired of seeing her face all day, her pet had gotten tired of having her around that it hid from her and only approached when she had food with her. But here she was, looking at the gateway to her monthly salary now turning into a mirage or some sort of nightmare. She had even made a list of the items she would buy the following month, the hierarchy list of debtors to pay and the chosen the place for her first leave....

 "Commando strong, Commando brave" "No blood, No peace... " This was the battle cry of the NUF rebels. Bullets hissed and passed through our streets for two continuous hours. During that entire period, Papa was locked up in the wardrobe because he was too big to fit under the bed like Tsusina and I. As for Mama, she laid supine like us with the Holy Bible on her stomach uttering some inaudible words.  After the two hour bullet plaque, the rebels shouted "Lakusa tuo ! "Everybody out! We opened our doors and stepped outside only to meet the smell and sight of fresh blood with human entrails scattered around. We were lined up in three rows. Men on the left,  women on the right and children in the middle.  One fearful rebel with a gun wound on his shoulder looked keenly at me. Unfortunately I had no time to dress up when the attack had begun. "If only I had listened to Mama and taken my bath earlier ".Wrapped up in Tsusina's cloth which managed t...

I followed an Instagram story yesterday and dared to braid something which was a taboo to my sensitive scalp .... I got home very late, exhausted and sleepy with a noticeable decrease with my "backside"  because I had sat down for the session for almost two (2)hours....it got to a point where I believed I was sitting on either my backbone or my waist. On my way home, someone called me from behind and  I caught myself doing a compulsory 180 because my neck refused to collaborate.  I lost appetite by the time I was home...the hunger pangs had even deserted me. I rather began feeling a little  sick with a bit of temperature and nausea. What killed me , absolutely finished me, the last of the straws was the sudden burst  of sneezing episodes...with each sneeze my temples stretched with pain.  https://images.app.goo.gl/3QQUNuJqRhopqpCX7 I laid down quietly on my pillow with my hand supporting my head in mid air...trying to sleep off the pain. I heard someone, so...

 Ajeeii!! Alright, that scream startled me and for the past thirty minutes my eyes were finally peeled away from the novel I was reading with intensity. With my ears wide opened and pointed to the ceiling like an antenna pole searching for a signal... I listened attentively.  When the screams reechoed..no one told me to rush outside leaving one sandal indoors and hitting my knee against the wall.. But who cared?  Kokonsa was bae!  As usual.. It was Tsotsoo and her husband who had decided to entertain us since our lights had been off for three days... A small crowd had gathered to witness the fighting scene. This was one of the rarest moments one could not afford to miss.. No electricity.. No adverts... No data. Just pure and undiluted theatrical display of masculine strength against feminine oratory.  https://images.app.goo.gl/UbPUb3xFmQJhAVQEA In this sheer touch of physical war, one could even decide to be a character or an audience. The latter which I had eve...

https://wordhistories.net/2019/05/06/cheese-eating-surrender-monkeys/ The timetable in the class one classroom showed that the Class 1 students had French lessons twice in the week.; Mondays and Wednesdays at 9:00 am. After two months of the first term, you could audibly hear the traditional "Bonjour Monsieur" on those two days...at least it gave everyone around a clue of which lesson was currently ongoing. It was just beautiful seeing them greet their French teacher even outside the classroom period until one incident caught my attention. It was a little after 5 pm, we had closed for a staff meeting. A guardian had just driven in to pick up his ward...Monsieur and I had just stepped out of the office... The little boy saw us and shouted "Bonjour Monsieur " while waving his goodbye. Eventhough it was close to 6 pm and hearing "Bonjour " made me wonder, I still smiled, I felt it was cute and what mattered was the intention behind it.  Two weeks after, I w...