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THE STORY BEGINS….. 2

The street was dark, a rough patch to the main road. As he stood there, not looking back, in a stance as if listening and waiting for something to happen… He sensed someone closing the space. “ Yo man where you dey go”; a voice from behind him. He stood still in his position.
Yo man I sey where you dey go!  He sounded angry  – he sounded crazy  – he sounded like he has been meaning to hurt someone for a longtime. It was going to be a long dawn.
“This boi paa, what u dey figure”, why are you standing that stiff… why u piss for your body? Kwashiaaaa; he scorned
He was very close now and Kwame could sense him only two feet away. A heavy hand hits his shoulders – exactly what he was waiting for. He grabbed the guys hand, twisted his wrist and turned with a kick into his ribs. As the guy went down, still holding his hand, he drove his knee into his face. “Agiee”, ooo, mm. the guy groaned.

As the guy was lying on the ground, suddenly a thought struck him; “why did I even stand here, what was I trying to prove.

The thought was a good one, because there was more trouble coming.  Suddenly something hit him hard in the head, he felt a sharp pain in his head. He couldn’t stand it; he fell to the ground. 
He stayed on the ground for a while, he then tried to look up, but his vision was blurry. He closed his eyes and looked again, still blurry, but this time he saw four guys, one wearing something white on his head and with a plank in his hands.
He was confused, and as he tried to stand to his feet. He moved a few steps back and tripped over something that felt like a body and fell on his back with his head hitting the ground. It was a heavy impact and his head started to bleed.
He could hear the four guys laughing, and one said “I told you, I was going to come get you.” The voice was familiar, it sounded like Nii Simpe..

 

A week ago; Kwame had done the formidable, trying to prove himself by flirting with Nii Simpe’s girl.  Everyone knew Nii Simpe ; he was the wrong guy to mess with any day. He was surly and vindictive, and will to any extent to pay you in your coin and extra, plus he had his own gang.

Kwame felt he needed to pick on him, in order, to get more respect. And the best way, he thought, was to flirt with his girl. He knew a bunch of psychological tricks, to play on the minds of girls. That was his trade, to lure girls to his bed, or any man’s bed. He just had to know the type of girl you were by asking a few questions. And then he could do his magic.

There he was in the bar… talking to the girl.  Kwame wasn’t good looking. No. He didn’t have the face of “our everyday hero”. But there was something about him. It probably had to do with the way he talked, the way he smiled. The way his hands moved, and the look in his eyes, every time he spoke. He spoke as if his intention was to turn you on. He seemed to have this pulse in his voice like he waited for his watch to tick, before he spoke. This made him attractive – So Kwame was an average good-looking guy, but very well groomed.
As he was talking to the girl, with his hands on her back… He lowered the hands slowly to her waist and then down and up. And then finally his hands rested on his waist and slowly he slipped his hands into the back of her jeans, feeling her butt.

He seemed to be very comfortable still talking to the girl about pretty trivial issues. The girl didn’t know how to react, because the conversation was juicy and the feel of his hands at her back didn’t seem unusual.

Soon, he whispered something into her ears and then kissed her… someone had spotted them and went to tip off Nii Simpe.
Nii Simpe came in very angry and that’s exactly what Kwame wanted.
He came in,thinking of nothing less than beating the hell out of him. He came in on them, held Kwame by the arm and pushed him to floor.
Nii Simpe turned to her girl and slapped her, and started to diss her; in the process Kwame lifted a bottle and crushed it on his head. Kwame further thrust his foot into his chest and Nii hit and broke a table.

He left the bar, after a two quick shots of vodka; he had made his point, Nii Simpe lying on the floor.

 

When he realized Nii Simpe’s voice, he knew the night was nowhere near over, and that possibly this could be the end of his life. He knew Nii Simpe and his guys were ruthless and he was going to pay for the silly stunt he had pulled.

Out of nowhere, while he lay there on the ground he felt an urge to attack. He mustered all the strength he could , stood to his feet , and ran into Nii Simpe. The force was enough to put Nii on the ground and he started to punch his face mercilessly. The four guys pulled him from Nii Simpe. Angrily, they grabbed whatever they could find around and started to thrash him.

Kwame was beaten heavily, he was left lying there with his ribs broken, blood gushing out of his head and his jaw bone displaced. His hands were broken, because he kept blocking and covering his face the whole time.

He was lying on the ground in his blood, he could barley breathe. He lay there with his hands over his face, his knee bent to his stomach. He wanted to reach to his phone in his pocket and call Seth but his arms couldn’t move.
He felt like calling for help, but his voice was shuttered, he could barely hear himself.
After a while, the air was unusually quiet. It seemed as if the air was not moving. He felt really cold and was shivering. He was losing blood, lots of it, as he won’t stop bleeding. His breath was becoming heavier; blood and sand seem to block his nose. His chest was in pain, it felt like his lungs had been crushed. His eyes shut.

 

 

Seth had been waiting at the bar for hours. He tried calling Kwame’s phone, it was switched off: it put him off. “I am tired, why is he so proud, to hell with him and his game. Why does he have to keep me sitting here waiting, when he knows, he’s not going to come. I have always had your back, you bastard…and I have followed your every lead. You barely listen to me, or even take notice of my opinions. You always think you know better.

Seth, felt like he’d been a fool for Kwame, too long and it was all going to come to an end that night.  He decided to leave for home. He was very angry and disappointed in his friend.  He promised himself, he was not going to call him or visit his place until; he called or came to his house to offer a sincere apology.

On his way home, he felt like he’d been battered for way too long, not with strikes or blows, but with the repeated indignation he had from Kwame. The feeling made him weak inside.

He walked on home slowly, feeling very lonely and lost. He had no particular friends.  Suddenly he realized what a mess, his life had been. It seemed like his whole life was centered on Kwame and he’d done nothing for himself.
He took out his phone, scrolled the contact list and called his mum…the phone rang for a long while, yet no one picked up. It was 1:30 am,” mum is asleep by now, I shouldn’t bother her, I guess.”

His walk had brought him to the point, where he usually crossed the high way to Kwame’s street. He stopped there, looking from across the street.  An insistent voice in his head kept telling him to go to Kwame’s house and tell him, how bad he feels.
He thought it wise to do that, so he crossed the highway. He was walking to Kwame’s house, but suddenly, he stopped.  A part of him, felt really stupid going there and telling him, what was on his mind. He turned back. He saw a taxi, stopped it, and entered. He headed home.

 

 

 

Portia had been driving for at least two hours – she had been searching everywhere. She had gotten out of her part of town, searching.  It was all quiet on the Kanehsie highway, after she’d driven out of her part of town; Dansoman.

She decided to head for Circle, it was 1:30am , she was on  drive – the engine hums and the gears change 2345. She was on high speed, frustrated, tired and confused. She got to the Danquah roundabout and made a turn to the east, towards circle and then from circle, she headed for Osu. She just kept hitting the accelerator till she saw a police barrier ahead and thinking it could mean trouble, she makes a turn into a dark street.  And starts to drive slowly, a few meters ahead and then the headlights bring to her vision, someone lying on the ground.
He seemed to be in a pool of blood, it strikes her; “Could this be Teeray”… But how, how could he have ended up here?  There were many possibilities; robbery, thugs, boarded the wrong taxi, kidnapped..

She drove a little closer and stopped; she looked on to the body from the car, and began to sob. “Put yourself together, let’s see if it’s him”; she told herself. She breathe in deeply, scared to step out. She opened her door slowly, stayed there for a while; breathe again and finally stepped out.

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THE STORY BEGINS………

Deep somewhere he saw himself on a hill, watching the beautiful sunset. He felt at peace. He was in carefree moment for the first time in his life. Nothing mattered. The clouds were painted in the red of the beautiful orange-gold of the Sun. Staring at the beautiful clouds in awe; his traced along the lines of the clouds, a lagoon lying far off. It was clouds; it was water; it was orange – gold.  The world was alive.   Lost in the wonderful scenery, a bird suddenly came flying towards him. He staggered.
He woke up.

Kwame had been sleeping for hours now.
It was about 11pm and he was still trying to recover from the abrupt wake… his phone rang, “Seth calling” the screen read. He picked up the call. “Hey man where have you been? I have been waiting for hours now”.  Sorry man I slept off; Kwame said.
“Oh ok, I see, so you kept me waiting here, while you were having a good sleep. ‘Was thinking you were preparing for the game.  If you are not coming! Tell me,  let me find my way home!” Seth said angrily.
Look man, I just woke up, I don’t need the headache you intend giving me; Kwame retorted.
“Why did you have to sleep in the first place? – You are supposed to be apologizing to me, not telling me to shut up”.   Kwame hanged up.

The phone rang again and he waited for a short while and picked it up, saying; “I hope this time you have something more important to say.”  “OK, Kwame, I’m sorry, you know I need your help. Please meet me at the rendezvous. I really need to get this girl”; Seth said calmly.
“Sure, I will be there soon man, let me put myself together”; Kwame replied.

Work calls again, he said to himself, as he looked into the mirror above the sink – washing his face.      He licked his upper lips, and his tongue felt hair. He touched his face. His skin had become thicker. He would be soon growing lots of facial hair. He was not growing any younger, he realized. He really needed to put his life on the right lane. He wished he could just die and come back as another man, to start life all over again; probably he would have the opportunity to make the right decisions.
He had the fame he always wanted, his friends never stopped calling and he had been with all the women of his dreams.  At first, it was exciting, making that impression on his friends, but now he feels he should have done better. He should have put his life together and not follow his many desires, desires that have lead to today’s many megrims.
More and more, as he thought about the last few years, he wondered, if he ever did anything for his own good or if everything was to please his friends; to please people. He had thought little of himself and his life in the end.

He pulled on a pair of jeans trouser and his favorite blue V-neck T-shirt, which fitted his body perfectly.  He was 6.2ft tall, had a well built upper torso. He had a great looking body; like that of Sylvester Stallione in the 1990s.  He put on his runners and headed for the ICE PALACE. 

ICE PALACE was where all the action took place, he was well known there. It was their favorite spot, he and his friends met there on countless times within a week; their rendezvous.

ICE PALACE was 20 blocks from his house.  He decided to make a run for the place. As he bound on his way, he felt the cool breeze rush on his face and arms. He liked it. It was refreshing. The breeze was; the night was.
“I must be a night man, because I love the nights, the night is my time”; he told himself.
The night was spooky, the streets deserted, but he cared less because he had walked the road on several occasions.

The thought of the spooky street and he heard; STOP there! He stopped and his defense was suddenly triggered.

 

 

 

Portia had been waiting; she couldn’t stop looking at her wristwatch and then her wall clock. “What is keeping him”; she kept asking herself. She rubbed her hands around her upper arm as she moved around in confusion. Trying to figure out what to do next; there was nothing to do, but she just couldn’t believe how powerless she was. She continued to moil, scrabbling and shuffling herself in confusion. 
Where could he be by now? She asked herself.

He called in the morning that he was going to arrive at the bus station by 9pm and as soon as he got there, he was going to call and then get a taxi driver to speak to her so she could give directions to suitable meeting place.

Portia received a call around 10pm, and it was he. Even then, she hadn’t stop calling to make sure he had not encountered any problems.  When the call came in, He told her, he had just arrived at the bus station and immediately he found an empty taxi. He was going to call.
She waited and called him after 30mins, to hear; “sorry the number you are calling is either switched off or out of coverage area.”  She’d been calling since then to no avail.

 

Three months ago she saw, reading the newspapers, the name; Teeray Sarpong Williams. The column read; “Teeray Sarpong Williams a 23year lad, invented a system that can digest organic waste more efficiently as compared to any bio-digester, used presently. The system tested in farms in Palugu in Northern Ghana proofs to work efficiently. Renewable energy has a new name………”

At that point something sounded familiar, Sarpong Williams; her surname.  She knew that name was only common to her family. Moreover, as far as the story goes, she was the only surviving victim after the fire. She had not stop thinking about the fact that her younger brother’s body was not found. She was only 12 when the fire incident happened but it’s not possible her brother survived.

In that horrid situation, she couldn’t just take in the experience; she was lucky. She was the first to be saved by her father when the fire started. She can still remember his father’s voice, saying; “stay out here, don’t move an inch, everything will be alright, let me go in for your siblings.” She was in grave shock as she stared at the whole house in flames and her father never came out and neither did she see any of her siblings. She just stood there, her teeth chattering, her body extremely cold. As she stood there she began to stutter, stay here, don’t move an inch, everything will be alright…stay here, don’t move an inch, everything will be alright, as if suffering from echolalia. She couldn’t stop.

 Neighbors perceived the smoke and came around to stop the fire but it was too late, there were no survivors. The fire service couldn’t even find their way to the house, as everyone there was so devastated they could barely say where the house was located; they couldn’t direct the fire service well enough.

 

Seeing the name brought back all those memories and it felt as if, she was living in the moments again but she had lived those memories all her life. She had also become used to the cold it brought to her spine.
The name yet brought her hope, Teeray, what if it’s my brother. What if Abeiku didn’t die and survived. She smiled; she loved the thought of the idea. Even though she knew deep down she was lying to herself. She felt, she just had to cling to this hope even it was false.
 She decided to call a private detective to find out if her brother still breath.

After two months, detective Carboso Kwabena called her phone; she crossed her fingers before she picked up, hoping to hear some good news. “Madam I have news for you, I found Teeray and after a long talk with him; telling him about you and the incident that took place 13years ago; he said …”, there was a pause in his voice. “Tell me already, I have no time for play, you have no idea, how I am feeling right now Mr. Detective…” she says. “Well he said, he had no idea who you are and doesn’t remember anything from that day.” Mr. Sintim continued. But he allowed me take his number, in case you will like to further talk to him, to clear any doubts you might have. There was a long silence on the line, hello, hello, hello… Mr. Sintim kept echoing …there was no reply; I guess I am going to hang up now and call you back later. The call cut and as if it was an anchored reaction, she burst into tears; she couldn’t stop crying. Her hope was frail. She made move… but she didn’t hope for this much. She sobbed, and like everything has an end, she finally stopped and asked herself: what will be the right thing to do, if I was in my right senses?

She breathed in, held it for a while, and then breathed out, as if to calm her emotions and put her in control. Ok, ok, ok , mmmm, she muttered to herself.” It is here now, I am in control, it is here, I am in control. “Ok , I am going to call Mr. Sintim now and take the number and I will call Teeray. Some part of her felt Teeray was her brother but it was going to take only her to make him realize it.

She picked up the phone and dialed 0243378590, it rang for a while; and then a familiar voice; “ I knew you were going to call back.” 

“I think I need to talk to him in person, that’s the only way to help me realize totally, I am mistaken”; she said. Well the number is 0266789040; I believe he will be expecting your call, take care, bye.

She dialed the number, took a deep breath and then waited, listening to the sound of the connecting tone. In no time, she heard; hello… “Hello is this Teeray.” It felt heavy to speak those first words. Yes it’s me sis, I didn’t believe it was you at first but now that you called and I heard your voice…” Portia couldn’t help but burst into tears again, “Oh my god, this isn’t happening. You are alive”… Yes sis, I am and I have dreamt of this moment, every single night I have been away”. My god, I can’t imagine… Teeray… I want to see you immediately, please.

The talk went on as Teeray told her sister about how much he’s changed and his experiences with the foster family. His schooling abroad had been one of the best things to happen to him.

Portia was lost in the conversation listening keenly to every detail as her found brother talked about his life. In the weeks that followed, they kept communicating until they finally fixed a date to meet.

Portia had been picturing all this time what her brother would look like. He had mentioned he was 6.2ft tall, did a lot of running; a way, he got out his worries. She knew, he was tall and fit… and would definitely have a nice body with all that running and work out.

 

She couldn’t it take anymore she had waited too long, She went into the garage, stepped into her car, hit the ignition, the garage gate opened with the sound of the engine. And she drove out the gate: she was on her way to look for her brother. She didn’t know where to start looking but she was going anyway – anywhere seemed a good start.

 

 

Kwame had been on the streets too long and knew too well how dangerous the streets could be sometimes.  After the grist to the mill experiences he’s had in bar fights. He tried to stay as calm as possible in order to enable him think straight, even though his heart won’t stop racing. “A strong man is one who is able to stay calm in adversity”: one of his many philosophies was on his mind.

He was standing still, with his fist clutched, his eyes asquint, looking from the left corner of his eyes, and his ears alert. His heart was skipping beats and pounding hard. He understood what experience this could be, if this was going to be a fight.

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Is Education a solution to a need?

Think about  it, why do you want to be educated?
What do you want to be educated for?
What do you need education for?

Once we begin to think about education in our terms; I believe we will begin to realize what education really is.

Long long ago, probably 800 years ago. A boy growing up in the Africa was educated. He was given the necessary skills to help him survive, create and fend for his family.
He was given the skill to build a house , to hunt for animals, and to grow and harvest crops. 
He was taught to find out the right sort of clay that will help build a home that will last. He was thought the importance of building a home that looked like moon, so natural elements like light and air will have their place in his home. And most importantly so harmony and unity will have a place in his home……….

There was a reason behind the education our ancestors gave to their children, and every artefact they created was to serve their needs. And each person was trained and given the skills needed for every individual to flourish and for the society to grow.
Education then, was serving a need.

Why do we educate today, what need is education serving. 

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THIS OR THAT?

This or that?

Don’t follow, lead.
Don’t copy, create.
Don’t start, finish.

or even,

Don’t sit still, move.
Don’t fit in, stand out.
Don’t sit quietly, speak up.

Not all the time, sure, but more often.

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Videos

Videos have this effect that comes with it, one that is really engaging. We should probably learn how we can use that to make a difference.

A LESSON FROM A GREAT ARCHITECT

 

 

A lesson from a great architect

Architecture is a combination of sculpture and art and engineering and user interface. It is high tech and low tech at the same time, utilitarian and beautiful and virtually always budget constrained.

But do you know what great architects understand?

If you don’t get it built, the work doesn’t matter.

Great architects are able to be great because they know how to sell their ideas to their clients. (Or, they know how to find clients who will build their ideas. Same thing.)

If you’re brilliant and undiscovered and underappreciated (in whatever field you choose), then you’re being too generous about your definition of brilliant.

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How you feel ; really important

Is how you feel really important?

Does the way you feel about a situation really matter.
If you were to dance to a tune, will the way you feel at that particular moment really matter?
If you are asked to run, will the way you feel at that moment really matter? 

There is a body-mind connection idea that we really need to tinker with. You body influences you mind, as you mind also do.
You can change the way you feel about something, and by the response you give with your body.
Your mind must continuously work with your body, in order, to create the right feelings.
If your mind is sad, let your body be happy
If your body is sad, think happy thoughts.
The truth is easier to influence your mind with your body and way more difficult to influence your mind with your body – yet we cant rule out the minds more powerful influence over the body.
It matters how you feel when it comes to getting something done.

The advice you can always tinker with the body-mind connection idea , to help you choose how you really want to feel.
Run, when you are on heat.
Laugh, when you are angry.
Jump and kick the air, when you are bored.

You have a choice and this idea of mind-body connection helps you, it forces you to think thoughts that align with your body. 

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Influence

It is important one realizes , the subtleness of communication.
The response you get, is really the response you get.
To change that response you need to do something different  

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