The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 530 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 9 trips to carry that many people.
Dear Diary, the kettle whistles, the aroma of lemon grass fills the kitchen. I breathe in and I love the smell. Lemon grass tea, and I actually love the smell. Wow! Some years back I regarded that as grass. Just grass. I remember it growing behind my grandma’s house. She, cutting some of them, pushing them into a clay pot and boiling them. “Drink!” She said, “its tea, it’s good for you.”
I used to hate that. My little primary school education, English speaking self and her illiterate village farmer/baker self, telling me to drink some grass tea, from some clay pot over firewood stove. That tea did not just smell of the grass, but also of the smoke from the firewood. Lol. Several years later, I have gone, seen other cultures, gained more education and I come back to drink the same tea I rejected years ago, except for now in a modern kitchen. Now I pay good money for wood chippings, to smoke my meat just to smell the wood. So we go to home depot, pay $10 for pine wood or mesquite chippings, ship them down to Africa, as if we do not have enough trees in this jungle, just to smell smoke in our meat. Omg, Africa. How I have taken this place for granted for so long.
The grass is always greener on the other side they say, but is it really? Maybe it is browner, or yellower, or a different color but definitely not greener. I had given up on all the good things and gone for the over processed food. I come back looking succulent, now I have lost weight. I have been told the ice is melting. The fast food needs to melt off me, I have been told, for the good food to take over, then you will gain the weight back, but it will be from eating good food. That is if you eat the local food.
Today is Christmas and I miss my grandma, her lemon grass tea, she rearing animals but being a vegetarian, just so her educated English speaking children and grandchildren can eat meat. Now two generations later, we have all the sicknesses that she and her siblings did not have. I guess she was the smart one right? She ate the good stuff, but in her goal of bringing up modern children, she allowed for us to eat things that in her mind were good but really were not. So really, who was smarter? Wow, how lemon grass tea can bring a rush of emotions. I miss some people. People I took for granted, their ways, we laughed at them, whispered behind their back, called them old fashioned, not western in the least bit, but now look at us. We wish we are half the people they were.
Lemon grass! I need to make some serious life changing decisions. TIA!
Dear Diary, I am slowing creating my own little world within this modern jungle. Music, spirituality, praying, cold showers at the end of the day, music through the night, scented candles, different sense of humor. Wow, these are slowly becoming part of me. Am learning to choose my battles, because in this place I find that one will be tired! You will be tired, physically and emotionally!
This is Africa, it’s a modern jungle, we are a bunch of very well educated Tarzans swinging from rope to rope, handling family (extended, extended, extended), friends, neighbors, employees. In this place, issues follow you home whether you like it or yes.
You will be tired when an employee is out of office and you specifically stated over and over and over all the tasks that need to be completed prior to him leaving and we still end up with emergencies, you will be tired.
You will be tired when living in an upcoming estate means that the next house to you is still under construction, hence the laborers live in there until it’s completed, so you come home and right by the side of your gate, you see a grown man taking a bath, in the open, omg, and he actually greets you “madam good evening”. Lol! Body all soaped up and still scrubbing away.
When the police stops you at the barrier, asks you to pull over just to request that you give his girlfriend a ride to the next town.
So to my potential returnees, these things make you tired. It is exhausting out here. You will be tired for no reason. Heck, you can stay home and do absolutely nothing and still be tired. Yes, that is possible.
You will be tired when people around you just do not understand you. You will be tired when the simple things are very difficult to understand for others around you. When you schedule an interview at 3pm, and candidate shows up at 12pm and expects to jump past the schedules before him because he showed up early. Meanwhile the others were right on time. lol.
You will be tired just looking out the windows of your car. When the ambulance sirens are on and no car pulls to the side.
So I recommend some good Music, Spirituality, Praying, Cold Showers at the end of the day, music through the night, scented candles, these help me distress. In this place, am finding out that finding ways that distress you are essential because you will be tired! TIA!
Dear Diary, Returnees’ abre paaa! Lol! Wahala catch some people waa! I met someone who is slowly selling off property, just to survive in this jungle of a place. Sad, sad, sad!
So whether you returned home willingly or unwillingly, there is a group out there called the returnees club in which you belong. Within that club is a hierarchy system. Every one of us “returnees” know where we stand on that hierarchy chart. What baffles me is that some of us pretend like we do not know where we fall on that chart.
Ok, so just because you lived outside, and can now slang is really of no consequence to your educational achievements outside of this country. Have you met our college students? May be you should. Some of them have no clue where Kotoka is located, let alone own a passport, but can slang so well your jaws will drop.
I love the whole exodus thing going on, “movement of Jah people” woo hoo! I love that we are all trying to come home, but once in a while I meet someone who is not able to complete a sentence grammatically and wants a job based on the fact that he / she lived outside Ghana. Like Seriously?
Living outside the country is not tantamount to being offered a job on a silver platter upon your return. I am all for us “returnees” making it in this crazy jungle of a place we call home, but please people get your ducks in a row. Cross your T’s and dot your I’s before you step foot here. Remember that even those who have, are finding it challenging to settle because the system does not make it easy for us, sometimes it is as if we are not wanted here.
Maybe this guy falls in the group of unwilling returnees. They say if you see a frog running, either it is chasing something, or something is chasing it. Some people should not be exodusing (this is not a word) themselves out of wherever they came from. A rolling stone….. na somebody push am. Lol. I wonder what / who pushed this one out. hehehe! I should not be laughing but …
Please note that in this crazy jungle, lives some extremely brilliant minds, so because they do not slang like you, does not mean they are backwards. We turn to forget that Africa produces very highly educated individuals. I have met a few and am very impressed and kudos to them, so please unless something is chasing you out, think carefully before you leap or else, Wahala go catch u waa!!
Dear Diary, It’s a holiday, took the girls to the beach for the first time. Okay, I loaded my ice chest with drinks and cookies, am really trying at this mommy thing. Hehehe! Only to get there and see the sign, no food or drinks allowed. Like Seriously! How? I only have 40ghc on me. Gate fee to get in was 15ghc remainder 25ghc. Spent less than an hour there and had to leave because my kids were so scared of water, one got sick. “Mommy, my stomach is paining me” she said. Ok, so right when we leave and get back into the car, a miracle happens, her stomach heals. Hehehe, life with two almost three year olds = Wahala!
Diary dear, so it’s Friday night, grandma is babysitting, and I am off to a jazz club with a friend. A little music is good for the soul right? Got dressed up, had 60ghs on me, on the way, something tells me, you will be needing more than that, so I make a U turn, and stop at an ATM. Took more cash out, and here I go. Stopped at an intersection and next thing I hear is a BANG! The force pushes the car forward, my head hits the steering wheel, my glasses flies off, Jesus, I slam on my breaks and the car comes to a halt in the next lane. The BIG BANG THEORY, it all started with a BIG …. I look around and all cars have stopped. People are looking. The driver in the car behind is out of his car. I find my glasses, get out and he is talking some ****, I check my car and amazingly nothing major happened, just the paint coming off. I stare at the man, who was still saying “madam, am sorry”, I shake my head, get back in my car and drive off. I am going to listen to my jazz no matter what. Nothing is stopping me. Dude was still standing there, when I got to the lights, make another U turn and got in my car.
Had great fun at the jazz place, danced my stress off. Some dance to remember and some dance to forget. I wonder why I was dancing. It could be for both. The music was oldies, brought back memories. Old man tried to buy us drinks. Why, na by force? First drink we said “thank you” but did not touch it, then here he comes again. Ok, seriously! Leave us alone. All of us girls are spoken for. And even if not, you look like our father, what on earth are you doing buying us drinks that we are not drinking. It is past mid-night at this point, so we are ready to leave, and with grandpa trying so hard to buy more drinks, we figured we need to exit and quick. On the way back, am driving alone at almost 1:00am in Accra, and I start praying, Dear God, I know my church has an all-night going on as I was out there shaking my **** to old school music. Please forgive me my trespasses, and get me home safe. Lol! The things I pray for. Lol!
Moving on to Saturday. Laundry day. I have a washer, but here I am hand washing everything. WOW, how did our parents and grandparent and those before them do it? I cannot do this. Yes the washer does not clean everything the way you want it, I get it, but how are we supposed to walk around looking pretty, and at the same time, cook meals, wash, scrub, mop, sweep, feed, give hugs and kisses, clean dripping noses, mediate, provide a listening ear, motivate, attend parties, funeral, engagements, church, etc. etc. etc. all in one weekend, then dress up wear 6 inch heels and rule the world at the same time. As am thinking about all these and washing, and stopping in-between to feed breakfast, bath them and listening to complains and refereeing fights, the lyrics “am not your supper woman, starts playing in my head”.
Amazingly, we hold it all together somehow. We joggle all these balls constantly, and sometimes you drop one or two, *** who wouldn’t, but really, I think women are supper beings in a way. Like Beyoncé’s song goes, who rules the world? GIRLS!
Dear Diary, for the last few weeks, I have been having Wakye for breakfast. Yes, I know, that is heavy but that is not your Wahala! Each time I stop to buy, she (Wakye seller) has attitude, but has slowly warmed up to me because I guess I am now her customer. Lol! Davi, is what I call her. That is what everyone calls her. (Wakye to my non Ghanaian friends is rice and beans cooked with local leaves to change the color to brown, eaten with spaghetti, gari, shito, meat, fish, egg, cole slaw, etc. It’s mainly for breakfast or lunch.)
The phone card seller lady next to her, who sells Coca-Cola is nicer to me than my wakye lady. Her location is a bit of a problem, and takes another 5-10 minutes of the time that I don’t think I have, but everyone else seems to think I do, so they can waste it. That is a story for another day.
Anyway, Davi failed to give me my 0.20 pesewas change from the last time. It actually started from 0.50 pesewas change and I have managed to reduce it to 0.20 pesewas. She looks at me like am nuts for reminding her that she owes me 0.20 pesewas. Just because I drive a car does not make me rich. Who do I look like Aliko Dangote? Moving on, so not wanting to waste another 10 minutes of my morning today, I took the short cut, and stopped by another wakye joint. Wakye is wakye, as long it’s made by a Hausa lady right? Wrong!
This new Wakye join will not sell Wakye GHC 1.00 to me. Service is poorer than my original Davi Wakye lady. At least she will sell the GHC 1.00, Talia (spaghetti) 0.50 pesewas, 1 egg and 1 meat. Yes I am very robotic like that. So this Aunty Fati looking girl, thinks am nuts for asking for Wakye GHC 1.00 this morning. “We don’t sell 1.00 she says” Ok, make it GHC 2.00. Waste of money and food. I cannot eat GHC 2.00 Wakye, but am being forced to buy GHC 2.00, why not give me half of the GHC 2.00 quantity. This country is ****. So to piss her off, I eliminate the meat and go for Talia 0.50 pesewas and an egg. You should see her face. Lol! I gave her that annoying smile which was not returned and say thank you very much, take my change and leave. Wow, someone needs to teach these sellers that a customer is a customer, no matter how much I spend with you. Little drops of water ………!
So yes, I miss my Davi Wakye seller. As bad as her service is / was, it’s still stellar, compared to Aunty Fati. I miss her not just for her “stellar” customer service, but also for her GHC 1.00 Wakye and the fact that she still has my GHC 0.20 pesewas. LOL!!!!
ADEL DIARIES 