He had spotted her before, racking his brain and thinking where exactly. Then, a light bulb moment, one of those digital dating app thingies, perhaps.

Approaching her as she sat reading a book titled “The Lakes Don’t Dry” by Mutew Samu. He didn’t have to, but a stubborn man he was, so out of the blue:

He said,
Hey good morning, you are the lady that disliked me yesterday?

Smirking and smiling, were this chaps expressions.

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United States

The confusions caused, served memories of when the Tower of Babel fell in the Book of Genesis, transgressions, bloodied coup d’états and civil wars. The human and animal death toll in and across kingdoms – Ghana, Benin, Nigeria, Congo, South Africa were in the fifth digits.

Around this time, the cheek of colonisation and its undercurrents was snuffed out like Assassin’s Creed, by the revolutionaries and freedom fighters – Kwame Nkrumah, Thomas Sankara, Nwanyeruwa, Mariam Makeba, the notables.

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Concrete Zoo

Ramanq said, we live in a concrete zoo.

The rogue mouse, ant and the silver fish. The moth and the crane fly. Oh! Our good old friend buzzing sweet nothings in our ears, voyeuring and nibbling on human flesh, the mosquito.

One doesn’t need to go the Kpenna Zoo to see the animals or the insects. That is an expensive farce, animals and mammals captured in captivity. A prison bee for entertainment, sorry edutainment, you see.

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See, from temporary death one wakes up in a single breath

See, to a grateful life one is alive to apply the why

See, births in this time, deaths in this time

See, the worries the fleeting, the drowning despair

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Mrs. Kwafia

The fuchure was imminent.

Crickets conducting their choir practice in the thin blade grass fields. Orange clouds, up and above, building. Parting ways, ever so kwikly fo deh sun to pose in the firmaments’ catwalk.

Indoors, in the Boys’ Quarters, shouts and screams. Upstairs, downstairs, about turn, the children are playing. She calmly said to her five year old twins, Ata the boy, and Ataa the girl;

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