Back To Black

There seems to be a change in the wind these days, I’ve noticed more and more Ghanaians are coming back home. I don’t mean that literally, although that might be true also (I should look into it) but I have noticed a reversion to our origins.

For example, just a few years ago it was hard to find a salon you could go to have unpermed hair twisted or locked. But now there are even people in the market advertising the service of getting your natural hair twisted (no, I didn’t go to the salons myself, the girls told me).

And just the other day I heard on the radio how parents are favouring local names for their children to the foreign ones we grew up with.

I was talking about it with my sisters and one of them said it was probably a fad. Is it? I don’t know but I think it will stay this way for a long time (or am I just hoping).

Personally, if I were a girl, I’d prefer to keep my hair as it is. I’ve heard quite a few stories and complaints about perming creams that burn you scalp and leave you with sores, how uncomfortable it is to sit under a drier, how taxing it is on your wallet (or purse) to go to the salon every week to get a ‘retouch’.

African print is also becoming more popular than it used to be with designers incorporating them into their clothes for fashion shows and women taking designs they see and like to their tailors and seamstresses to be reincarnated with local textiles.

What I’m hoping for is a spread of this sentiment into all facets of our life, a sure-fire way of improving our country and the conditions we always complain and incessantly whine about.

Facebook In Heaven

You went away on the second day of the year

Had hundreds of people shedding many a tear

The news spread so fast it was unbelievable

Reports of what happened were inconceivable

It’s sad how it’s only after we lose something

We realize just what we had (or could have had)

When the absence makes the emptiness ring

We cherish the good times and laugh at the bad

Emotions poured in from all you’ve touched

As the terrible hurricane made landfall

In the form of words that to be unlatched

And the only place we could go was your wall

If you ever wondered how much people cared

What we’d say if our feelings were bared

Well log on and check the comments, 24/7

And I really hope there’s Facebook in heaven

To Richard Nixon Yakah

Taken In Context

“The evil that men do lives after them.” We’ve all heard this before, but what does it mean? When I used to here this line I always thought it meant when you do something bad you can’t run away from it, that wherever you go, whatever you do, you will, in one form or another get paid back for what you did.

I thought this for a long time until one day I read a book, actually a play, by a man called William Shakespeare entitled Julius Caesar. “The evil that men do lives after them, the good is oft interred with their bones”. In the play, Mark Antony was giving a speech at Caesar’s funeral when he said it. It was then that I realized I had misinterpreted the words.

It was supposed to mean that when a man (or woman) does something bad it is most often remembered but most good things he (or she) does is buried with him (or her), and quickly forgotten.

But I can’t be blamed for my previous understanding. Taking the sentence alone, that is an obvious and understandable way of interpreting it.

That got me thinking, sometimes we judge something or someone too quickly without taking time to get the whole picture, so we here one side, a small piece, and assume. But delving deeper will bring other sides and different meanings that will give us better a understanding.

Size Does Matter

Girls say it all the time, “it’s the little things you do that matter most”, that might be true to some degree but don’t be fooled for one minute into thinking you’re off the hook when it comes to the “big things”.

The only thing that makes the little things so important and gives them their relevance is that you don’t do them too often and, most of all, you still do the big things.

Let’s take an example, say you’re the boss of a company, the CEO, and every morning your assistant brings you your morning coffee or tea (or kooko and koose). That’s not unusual, I mean, it’s her job. Think how much more different it would be, and how special your assistant would feel if she came to work one morning and found you had bought her kooko and koose. That would probably be the highlight of her day, definitely something to share with her girls.

Now let’s say she comes to work and she’s going out to get her kooko and one of the other office workers, maybe another assistant, buys one for her. She most definitely would be appreciative but, of the two scenarios, which one do you think would surprise her more?

It’s your ability to do the big things that make the little things stand out when you do them; otherwise, if you can’t do anything else for her but the little things, soon enough it’s going to be your job. And I have a brilliant example in my mind of such a person (everybody who went to my school from 2007 to 2009 will know what I mean).

The course of reasoning goes something like “awww, he took me out to such a romantic dinner last night and tonight he cooked for me (or washed the dishes after we ate) isn’t he the sweetest, most thoughtful and caring man ever?”

Now if you’re not able to take her out to dinner, it’ll go like “common check check koraa you can’t buy for me, you can’t even make rice and stew and after I’ve slaved over a hot stove to make your food you won’t even say you’ll wash the dishes, mtcheeew, bεεma bεn koraa nie?”

See what I mean? So they can say it all they want, and by all means give attention to the smaller things once in a while, but don’t give up the day job, cuz love don’t pay the bills.