Useless column: International class prefect

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Useless Column: The Fetish Pastor
Mawuli Zogbenu

So what informed the decision to give the washroom the nickname ‘private’ when we all know what we go there to do? The other annoying nickname is ‘restroom. Rest? I see! This is a question Abolo can ask with ease oo.

Abolo Kudal was my primary school friend and happens to have a brother called Torgbivi Kudal. It is difficult to tell if they were twins or otherwise because the birth interval between the two is like 9 months p3! We started primary one at Anunmle 3 Primary. We went to school together. We often fought together – the two of them against me. I was their class prefect.

As to how I was appointed as the leader of the class by Mrs Doris Acheampong formerly of the NCCE, still remains a mystery since 1982. These two boys especially Abolo liked talking talking talking in class. I wrote their names and added DP DP DP (Double Punishment) and they were often caned. I also got my own punishment from these boys whom I called ‘Rats’ when we closed and on our way home.

They would engage me in fierce fights and I don’t want to say they often won the fight. Once in a while, me too I hit at their eyes small and took to my heels. I changed my routes on my way home many times but they would still follow and ambush me. What made matters worse was this day in class 3 that Abolo was absent due to ill-health but his name still appeared in the list of TALKATIVES.

The punishment was scheduled for the following day. Abolo was in school at the time the punishment was to be meted out. When his name was mentioned, he protested and swore an alibi that he was absent that day. Mrs Acheampong queried me as to why the boy was not in school yet his name appeared. In fact not only did his name appear oo; it came with DP DP DP. In my ‘caution statement’, I stated that knowing Abolo, he would definitely have talked if he had reported to school the previous day and that what I often did was to write his name at home even before coming to school.

He was pardoned and believe me, that day, I closed before he and his brother Torgbivi closed. I foresaw severe beatings on the way home if we had closed at the same time. But as it were, saman si adi3 besan biom (to wit the ghost says definitely night will fall again). It was only a temporary dodgement of  beating by these two well built small ‘rats’. Their father was in the military at the time.

The following day, I was the first to get to school under protection from nothing. They pulled me from my desk because class was yet to begin. I saw their senior brother, Lord approaching my direction with the eyes of a wounded lion. He was in an upper class among the senior talkatives. Surprisingly, he was always a serious guy unlike these two brothers of his who were a thorn in my flesh. When I managed to get off their hands, the following day I asked my father to transfer me to another school.

That was how come I ended up at Achimota Primary where I was made class prefect again. Here, I was in the midst of children of Military high ranking personnel one of whom was the number one citizen. Ha! One of such mates was Zanet! If I were a man…I would have written names of talkatives and continue to add DP DP DP. Ajeeeeish! Who born dawg! Hahahahaa!

The difference in the two schools was that while nobody would stop a fight at Anunmle, a cyto school, at Achimota Primary, it was like ‘you don’t have to fight; you would hurt him…stop it’ and fights were likely to come to an end. Blows were quite feeble as if lovers at play!  But at Anunmle 3 cyto? ‘Piiilipi hensor! You’re your own brother would love to see the fight through to the last round even if you were dying in the ‘ring’. Blows were blows! Beatings that I received in that school er. Hmmmm!

Guess what! Abolo is married to our last born, my sweet sister Stella! Time for Karma and continuation of Anunmle useless tradition. My sister is suffering as she keeps giving birth by ‘hat’ but the good news is that her husband treats her well with her 8 children. She exercises a lot as she counts money which relieves her of joint pain, headache and normalizes her blood pressure. Yet she claims she is not happy. Ei, Stella? Ayooo! I only hope he is not raising his hands to the ceiling fan and you have refused to talk all because of enjoyment. I am sure you are preparing to ‘born’ again next year.

I want to go to Mallam junction and come. Ei! I did some useless survey yesterday. I calculated the distance between Kaneshie Shiell and the N1 overhead bridge at Mallam Junction and it measured exactly 7 kilograms, ooooooh sorry, kilometers. Ei, that reminds me – what at all happens at Batsona Tottal? Everything is there including diesel. If there is a big entertainment event in Accra and the tickets are not at Batsona Tottal, forget; please cross-check who the event organizers are and their credibility. No be so? I am looking for trouble again oo, yeeeei! E bi joke I dey joke oo. Haahhhaaaa! Batsona Tottal, I want cini ticket wai. I will watch the cini via zoom. Batsona Tottal , arguably the most credible source of tickets even for yogot!

God is funny oo. Hmmmm! You don’t know what happened to me this morning. I was late for a meeting with my Professor at the Kwame Nkrumah or rather Prof Mills University of Ghana. Who has the most of institutions named after him? This is just a harmless question and you want to finish me? Ah! I won’t mind you mpo. I drove from Weija till I got to Lapaz only to realize I had left my laptop at home. I had on it some documents to present at that meeting. I was angry with myself. I cried.

I wanted to make a U-turn back home so I could speed like a Formula 1 driver but I had to go as far as Achimota overhead to do so. Or I should forget about it, I considered. But I need it too oo, I told myself. Finally, I took the painful decision to go back after having negotiated the Achimota overhead. I got home, opened my front door and to my surprise was some dark thin smoke coming from my kitchen. I had left my gas stove on. Apparently, in my bid to get to the meeting early, I put some ‘yesterday’ jollof rice on fire and forgot. But for my timely return to the house, hmmmmm! God is indeed funny! Would you believe that what pained me most was the jollof rice that got burnt? Abi they go pay you salary next week? Make room for nsaawa on various whatsapp groups. Please never see such as a bother wae. There is so much blessing in ‘seeing people off’ with a token to their families to support the bereaved family. That is the reason God gave you a job so that you can bless people with some, save some, spend some on your family and where applicable, girls! The last one is the undesirably desirable one.

Your income is not only for you. Bless people with it and you would continue to enjoy your source of income. True or False?

Those stingy members on whatsapp platforms who always want to see others contribute to especially funerals have no idea the blessings they are missing out on. Please tomorrow you too leave your gas on and go to that funeral at Kwawu or wedding at Hohoe and you’d come back to see your house nicely painted by the presence of the Fire Service. Worse of all, you don’t even have insurance on your house.

Happy weekend and never allow your heart to control you or else….Nsawam!

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