The way we greet in Ghana can sometimes make one feel edgy. We don’t only say hiya, but we ask how you and your household are doing, including your pets.
Several construction works are ongoing across the country in this time of year. You’d see Labourers either patching potholes, scraping out shallow gutters or spreading thin layers of asphalt on neighbourhood roads.
It happens every four years for an apparent reason. Promises made years ago are now getting their fulfillment. Possibly, funds for such projects arrived late or more urgent challenges needed addressing. Whatever the reasons, these projects tend to become shoddy and would be desperately in need of repairs a couple of years later.
In Senior Secondary School, I fell in love with butterflies. Their patterns, colours and the way they breezed delicately through the air, filled me with awe.
Butterflies inspired many of my designs, so much that I became the best in my Textiles Design class.
Our preachers are screaming their heads off on podiums in church and on the streets.
Our politicians are screaming their unrealistic promises on radio, TV and social media.
We are all screaming, fighting to be heard first. It all culminates into a clangour of voices that crowd out great ideas.
He was the president when I was growing up. Once in a while, he and his convoy drove through the village. And we lined the streets chanting his name. Some of us kids barely had any shirt on. With sheeny little tummies bulging out like baseballs, we squealed and waved till we almost lost our voice.
One of the enthralling moments in Ghana’s history was the burgeoning of private radio stations, especially in Accra.
The novel variety was great. Listening to the radio was so much refreshing.