The most relished moments

Mr. Jailer, Stop Calling Me A Prisoner.

reynelladjetey22@gmail.com (Reynell) — Mon, 03 Jun 2019 06:42:00 +0000

I’m in chains, you’re in chains too... Mr. Jailer, Stop Calling Me A Prisoner...

It’s about time I bid adieu to the days where I was gaoled wondering whether I’d for once in this damned cage be greeted with a wall of text saying you cared as much I do. I was always waiting, and waiting for the turning gyre, waiting for that moment where a sporadic conversation might flow. You all know, all the moments you initiated good, telling connection, made me more than happy — but that did not happen— oh how I hate spoilers! Perhaps I shouldn’t have tried too hard at getting your attention; Hopes were high, might as well be better to say that false hopes which were raised threw me down a downward spiral, and I should have seen through it. Oh but these cages, these cages, mr jailer, clouded my better judgement!

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Everyone talks about love in ways that transcend what our naked eyes may want to believe. Love is love but you can’t just help it with who you love, Mr. jailer! We mostly do not love people but we do, however, fall in love with the idea of the person we think we do love.These falsetto of images that never materialised flash before my eyes every daybreak when I’m soaked in thoughts about when you’ll ever send an appeasing “don’t worry, be happy” text. At least I tried, I tried to call this cage home when I wasn’t sure. If we were to make a foot count of the copious amount of times I wanted break this barrier to connect with you through this cage you set up, the sea might dry up. The closer I get, the more distant you are from me. The cage was open all this while but I was probably too “drunk in love” to get the “shackles off my feet”!

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Daddy-Long-Legs at the Rabat Medina

reynelladjetey22@gmail.com (Reynell) — Sat, 20 Oct 2018 19:49:00 +0000

I call him "Daddy-long-legs" because of his tall, slender frame with long legs. Just a few inches taller than I am.

I was overwhelmed in a positive way that fateful Saturday. I mean the reception itself was beyond comprehension. They say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach and I think that might be fairly true. "Would you like to go to Rabat with us?" Hajia Latifa asked after the sumptuous meal of couscous had settled. Although I looked confused, probably because I did not understand what was being said, I just nodded. Rabat, okay let's go. There's no harm in that. She was already dressed in a beautiful djallabia laced with embroidery on the front. All right, that was so typical. Oh how can I forget Haj Abdelrahim (It's pronounced a certain way). I prefer to call him Alhaji Rahim since I couldn't bear with the twisting of my delicate tongue (I'm smiling in old negro spiritual). "Yo quiero", "je t'aime" were inscribed on Mounia's blouse. "I think I love you too", I silently told myself, just myself haha. So all was set to go. I was indeed clueless why we were going, trust me.

THE MEDINA

"Prochaine station, Place Al Joulane 1". I can't tell why I always melt at the sound of the soothing voice of the lady that makes announcements on the tram. Others might find it irritating, but it oddly enough tickles my eardrums. That sensation is so therapeutic. Looks like I am daydreaming now. I need to wake up. Where are we? Old Medina it is, uhm-hmmm. I was then having wild, wild thoughts about why I came there in the first place. I've been to the Medina about a thousand and one times. The Medina is a large market, that's all I can say . "Let's just see how different this would be", I whispered to Marwan. At the Medina, Mounia was my buddy-buddy. By the way, I was told Mounia means wish. Allow me throw the spotlight on her now. Finding our way through this labyrinth of a Medina, we were eagerly looking to see all the rare tropical fruits we had talked about with Moncef. In one corner of the paved street was pawpaw (papaya). Check, check, the list went on and on. Now the real struggle lies here. Saturday, I think, is a good time to see the hustle and bustle of life at the Medina. It was crowded, perhaps overcrowded. The walkways were small and one has to meander his way through a sea of people; a Herculean task in my opinion. "Balaak, faites attention" were not uncommon to be heard (You can now start learning any African language today!). Mounia insisted I kept my sac-à-dos in front of me. For the umpteenth time I obliged, for safety sake. She was behind looking for God-knows-what. So I decided to cry out to her in Arabic and French saying, "Mounia, yalla vas-y". The reaction was priceless, unexpected.

The expression on Hajia's face was that of bewilderment, joy, and admiration. I guess I made a good impression on her. While Navigating the labyrinth, we crunched on some pastries that were bought early on. It tastes good, just like the savouries we have in Ghana but I felt this particular one was made with a maggi-like spice. I am digressing now. We came to a stop at a jeans stall. Marwan wants to get for himself some jeans trousers. Much to his dismay, every pair he chose seemed to be too short or small. I call him "Daddy-long-legs" because of his tall, slender frame with long legs. Just a few inches taller than I am. (I am tall too compared to someone 😈). If he were in Ghana, he would have been nicknamed "Odogo", "Long John", or "Tee Taller". I wish I had those legs because that will bring an end to me folding my trouser length about five times in order to put it on. Finally found him a perfect pair and set to go. It's 7:30 pm already. We ate "chabakiya" شباكية ( chips dropped in caramel, I think ) while I rehearsed what I had to say to "khalti"(aunt). I kept postponing till that moment became inevitable. Mounia called Hajia to tell her I had something to say to her. Like seriously, I'm so shy. All eyes on me I mustered courage and my lips started moving as everyone was eager to hear what I had to say.

"Hajia Latifa, shoukran 3la couscous lyoum. Kan bnin bzaaaf", I murmured. "Awili", "winuu", that was the cutest thing they had heard in a very long time. I literally thanked her for the meal and told her it was very delicious. It was at this point I was given the Moroccan card lol. (Black card not revoked). They opened their doors widely to me and said that I shouldn't hesitate whenever I want know about anything , even remotely Moroccan.

As I said earlier, I've been to the medina several times but this was different. Different because anytime I went there, I went alone to get really quick and return home. However, I received some funny looks that day. I'll talk about that another day. 😂

Keep watching this space, there's something in the pipeline.#WETOO. Très chic. I'm out. Bislama!

THE MOROCCAN LOVE POT: Couscous

reynelladjetey22@gmail.com (Reynell) — Sun, 14 Oct 2018 11:39:00 +0000

"Can I call you on Saturday?", he asked. That sounded like a good idea that no matter what, I had no tangible reason to turn it down — it's the weekend! This was the first time I actually got an open invitation to a Moroccan home to taste Moroccan cuisine, home-prepared with lots of love. (who doesn't love some "home cho"? ). I thought to myself that it was a good opportunity for me to immerse myself in the culture, at the very least reveling in it. It's 11 o'clock in the morning, I'm still in bed half-awake when the call from an unknown number came through. I figured it might be Marwan since I hardly receive phone calls from my number. This was not far from truth as the person at the other end of the phone bellowed "weeeesh". "Oh yeah what's up ? How's it going ? You already had breakfast ?" Breakfast you said? I don't recall the very last time I made time to eat a hearty breakfast; It's just faded into distant memory. After the exchange of pleasantries, we planned to meet at the Tram station since it's most convenient for me. I was still late, but you know you can't blame me-- It's just this thing called GMT (Ghana Man Time). He thought I was going to bail out at the eleventh hour when I didn't pick up all three of his calls... I was taking a shower, bear with me. That was a truthful lie.

Fast forward an hour later we found ourselves home. Before entering, there were so many thoughts going through my mind (mostly about how the family was going to be like). I've got many fears but the most apparent one is change. Be it changing places, or meeting new people. I usually feel like a fish-- probably a Tilapia-- taken out of water. However, today felt different. I gingerly moved to meet the family.

Upon entering, I was greeted by his sister with the usual "Salut ça va ?". I had really wanted to show off my croissant prowess but Marwan killed the zeal by telling her I speak English . Quite disappointing hein? The aura of the surroundings was a calm, comfortable one. I felt so much at home, perhaps, due to the fact that the aroma emanating from kitchen was so very much alike to my mom's rice fried in oil (I don't know if it has an English name). Then, the person making the magic finally came out and I deemed it was time to do the "ahohyehye". Salam walaykum, اسلام عليكم in Arabic, was the start of pleasantries. It means hello but literally means peace be unto you (If you would like to Start learning any African language today, Ayekoo Afrique got you covered!). One intriguing thing about Moroccan style of greeting is how they could use about four to five expressions having the same meaning as "how're you?" in Arabic. Indeed their linguistic flair is admirable. So I also replied in Moroccan Arabic (Darija); saying "kolshi mzian" meaning All is well or Everything is fine. She was impressed, and asked if I speak Darija. "Chwiiiiiiiya", I said. Met the rest of the family and had great conversations from Archaeology to Zoology.

THE DAY'S AGENDA: COUSCOUS

Well, I was told of a very thick Moroccan milk I should taste called Leben لبن. It's partially fermented milk used as an accompaniment to couscous. I thought it was going to taste like Burkina. Good news is, I had a brain freeze! It was sour but I have taste buds strong enough to neutralise the reaction. The table was set, and then came a mountain of tantalising Coucous garnished with a variety of fruits and vegetables, as well as meat. I knew this was going to be sumptuous, you don't need to be told.
I went for the Chickpeas first with the intention of reserving the best part for last. Very delicious they were. Then carrot, cabbage. And the COUSCOUS, yummy, took me home again. "It tastes familiar", I remarked. Deliciously familiar. After I had tasted that morsel, I yearned for more; C'est très chic. Before I forget, there was spicy pumpkin in there. Isn't pumpkin supposed to be a fruit ? Mama was trying to show me how couscous is eaten traditionally with our natural spoons— the hand. It's not new to me because we eat with our hands back home too; yet I decided to go with the spoon since I didn't want to unleash the Ghanaian demons in me. In all honesty, I ate to my fill not until I had to say baraka. As though that was not enough, an assortment of fruits were brought-- sweets after meals you got it.

Although I had promised myself not to eat Moroccan cuisine as a staple, things are going to change and that's just the tip of an iceberg. This is definitely love cooked in a Moroccan pot; you can quote me!

All said and done, the experience was so unique.Perhaps even beyond perfect as there's no word I can think of that can do justice to this very experience. I'm really grateful and much overwhelmed. The atmosphere only was a banger, très beau et chic. I entreat you to try the Moroccan couscous BAM!

I rest my case here. It's Sunday morning and I have to go to church. There surely will be an update. Bislama!

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HOW TO MAKE THE BEST PIZZA, by Priscilla.

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The Beauty Of Misfortune

reynelladjetey22@gmail.com (Reynell) — Sat, 13 Jan 2018 10:41:00 +0000

BEAUTY IN MISFORTUNE

Many a time 🕐, life hits us very hard in the face and feel all hope is gone. We go through certain circumstances, Mostly unforeseen, that makes us doubt our worth in this existence. Anyone here who has never encountered a misfortune? How was the feeling? Misfortune knocks on our door 🚪 each and every day but what have we to do or say?

Misfortune could be any unfortunate condition or events, bad luck, generally something and please send or unlucky that happens to someone.

However, not all misfortunes at unfortunate. Just as every cloud🌥 has a silver lining, ever misfortune they say is a blessing in disguise.(Chinese idiom) They are very tricky to spot at times and even more difficult to accept but the factors is that some of these worst experience in our lives and blessings that change our lives for the better. If we can find a strained with been to see our misfortunes as opportunities we can open the door 🚪 into possibility of greatness.

We dream of getting ideal jobs but life throws the harsh reality into our faces and we are heartbroken 😭. Bear in mind that as one door 🚪 shuts another door 🚪 opens what is your precious self to the limits tell you lay your hands on the dream job only to realise you are opening a Pandora's box ? Sometime at your new job you will enjoy 😊 it and all that is Sweetside— it's a bittersweet experience. Occupational hazards are real . You lose a limb or both. What's the doing job then? We do tend to curse asked us when we miss our flights even if it's for a save.

More often than not we realise our best isn't enough. We are not good 😊 enough to do or accomplish certain things. We believe in our talents, the more talented we are the less effort we are likely to put into our work when in reality, hard work 😓 and perseverance pays off. You know , curiosity didn't kill the cat 🐈; complacency will kill him. Personally, failure has a two-word meaning : TRY AGAIN. It's always a lesson you should heed; TRY AGAIN. If at first, you don't succeed —TRY AGAIN. There perseverance comes into the picture. And one ☝️ more thing is that you need learn to do your own dance and dance 💃 to the tune of your own music 🎶 .

You failed and SO WHAT? Remember you are not the first nor the last to do so . It's about picking yourself up from the ashes and starting from scratch to perfect 👌🏾 your mistakes. We shouldn't fear to fail.

The City is FINEST

reynelladjetey22@gmail.com (Reynell) — Fri, 26 May 2017 15:52:00 +0000

"The city is the finest place " , I always imagined . More often than not , I conjure up images of urban areas being the most exquisite places to ever live on this earth superior to my rural setting . The fascination of city life as depicted by movie producers enslaved my mind - forever enveloped in this illusion . I then developed a longing for an urban life devoid of boredom .
Well , there was one opportunity for me to live that dream . It was not until the day uncle Darko, who lives in the city of Accra , came home for a visit . I could not conceal the great joy I had when he informed me that he would be taking to the city for a tour . No time could be wasted as I got ready to experience the thrills of the city of Accra .
As the vehicle departed for the city, my uncle said to me ," my son, if you don't move the city , the city will move you " . The statement made by him left a food for thought as I pondered over its meaning . The picture painted of urban areas is one of which flows with milk and honey . However , there are always two sides to a coin .
On entering the city , my jaws dropped in awe of the view occurred the city. It was very beautiful . There were spectacular , high-rising buildings like it is in the movies . Settlement patterns are linear giving the city a beautiful view which I really admired. It seemed to me everyone living in this part of the city had shelter . However , in the suburban areas ,the situation is a different story altogether . Unlike the exquisite buildings at Accra central and east Legon, the suburban places are full of squalor and overcrowded usually inhabited by very poor people .

In the city, a line has been cut between the rich and poor . While the former mostly live in luxurious estates, the latter are compelled to live in shanty houses . That part of the city lacks reliable sanitation services , supply of clean water and other basic services . Then my uncle tapped me by the shoulder and remarked , " it is better to live under a roof here than to be homeless on the streets " . It was hard to believe that people did not securely live under a roof in the so-called exquisite places in the city. Itch is not uncommon to see people finding solace in front of stores and kiosks on the streets

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Shatta Wale Explains Why He Doesn’t Want To Collaborate With Yemi Alade At Coke Studio Africa

reynelladjetey22@gmail.com (Reynell) — Wed, 28 Sep 2016 09:58:00 +0000

Shatta Wale

<strong>was interviewed on Sammy Baah’s AM Pluzz today and the dance hall artiste addressed</strong> several issues arising from his CokeStudioAfrica deal. His publicist Chris Koney revealed to the press that Shatta Wale is the highest paid artiste among all of the other artistes who have been to the Coke Studio for some studio sessions.Shatta
Yemi Alade
As part of arrangements, Shatta Wale was scheduled to record a song with Nigeria’s Yemi Alade but it seems the dancehall king is not interested in recording a song with the ‘Johnny’ hitmaker. He dislcosed that he respects Yemi Alade so much but he’s not interested in recording a song with her because they are both doing different style of music.
“I respect Yemi Alade too much but its not that i don’t want to do that thing (record) with her.Am not into Yemi Alade’s kind of music because we are both doing different style of music and i wouldn’t be comfortable doing any song with her. My team are still having a meeting with coke to see if there can be a change of things.

You know someone who cultivates yam has a different way of cultivation his crop from someone who cultivates pineapples. For me and Yemi Alade we are just like that and we cant do this record together.” He said.

Miss Lisa Edem for Miss Prampram 2016

reynelladjetey22@gmail.com (Reynell) — Sat, 27 Aug 2016 00:05:00 +0000

Miss Lisa Edem better known by many as 'mhyzlisdem' has always had a passion for beauty pageant. It is in this light that she thrives very hard to reach unattainable heights . Being an enthusiast of such contests, she started at a very young age. Though she's only 18(as at the time of publication), she is very determined to live her dreams .

It is no surprise she came up as second runner- up at the just ended Miss Prampram contest . She amazed both audience and judges as well due to her flawless performance and eloquence. She is indeed a rare gem. She is a talent to be looking out for since she is the next big thing to hit the industry.

Miss Prampram pageant The pageant was organised by Media Eye pot. She got into the pageant courtesy of a friend who informed of her about the contest which she did not hesitate to participate. In all ten ladies were competing for the crown as Miss Prampram. To select a winner, the ladies did various tasks in different to depict their beauty with a purpose. A photo shoot session like , the catwalk , and showcase of talents. Mhyz lisdem chose to harness young talents as her project. In an interview with ourheartmoments.blogspot.com she disclosed she wants to be a model, fashion designer, a radio and tv personality and ultimately a philanthropist. She said "It has been my dream to help others and I am always . I think about others first ; give to those who are in dying need when I have the capacity"

Her greatest source of inspiration and support is from her parents who give their all to give their daughter unflinching support in all her endeavours
These photos of Mhyz lisdem would leave you stunned

To see more of Lisa Edem , you can follow her on social media : Instagram: @lisdem brown Facebook : Mhyz lisdem
This is just the beginning

Real friends are hard to come by

reynelladjetey22@gmail.com (Reynell) — Fri, 19 Aug 2016 15:16:00 +0000

True friends are hard to find

" More friends ; more troubles" , a friend once told me. He was the type who took delight in being known by many people . However ,real friends are not in the numbers but few. Though he was surrounded by a lot of "friends" , none was indeed a friend . Some come into our lives just to serve their own turn upon us. They've got their own motive befriending you for their selfish interest . This friend am talking about had a lot of them . For friends and followers on social media , it leaves much to be desired . The plethora of friends and followers one may have is mere virtuality. Since reality is entirely different from what is on Facebook ,Twitter and Instagram.

Always will they be by you .I really cherish my true friends.

Felix Eduful, Desmond Adjei and Lord Wallace , when are we going to town again ?

:(Kwame Aceson
:(Kofi Drey
:( Kwesi Chapterz
:( Kwesi Byron Aristotle

But least do we know that some friends are meant to leave indelible marks on our lives and personality . Those are the friends that endeavour to leave footprints in the sands of time . Be there for you whatever the call may be . They are always in your life not for their selfish interest . And I personally think I have met those rare gems . Indeed a true friend is hard to find but I found mine . Not one ; you can name them yourself.

reynelladjetey22@gmail.com (Reynell) — Mon, 04 Jul 2016 23:31:00 +0000

CAUSES OF STREETISM IN AMMA DARKO'S FACELESS Amma Darko is a famous ghanaian writer who brings out the follies of society and the plight of women and children through her novels.Some of the novels she's written are BEYOND THE HORIZON,THE HOUSEMAID and FACELESS.Some causes of streetism in FACELESS by Amma Darko are examined below. First of all,Amma Darko highlights the absence of fathers as a major cause of streetism.In the case of Fofo and her siblings ,they have no father to cater for them and show them fatherly love.Kwei runs away leaving behind his 'wife'(Maa Tsuru ),and her children .Even if he's poor,he can be there to discipline them and prevent them from going onto the streets.Adade,who does not care much or is not interested in matters related to the house,he's always there for his children and wife,Kabria.He gives them all that they need.Due to this,there is no possibility of them moving onto the streets.Maa tsuru then brings ina new lover who becomes a menace to her children.His mere presence compels the children to go onto the streets.This is because Kpakpo is very irresponsible and undisciplined.

reynelladjetey22@gmail.com (Reynell) — Mon, 04 Jul 2016 23:21:00 +0000

Hello guys I know it's been a while since I last posted. I have been kinda busy. But the good news is that am back. So you should watch out for more.

COMMENTARY ON FACELESS

reynelladjetey22@gmail.com (Reynell) — Fri, 22 Aug 2014 11:40:00 +0000

OMMENTARY

FACELESS

Amma Darko

_{Written by: Reynell
Okine-Adjetey}

_{Ghana Senior High,
Koforidua}

FACELESS – ^{Amma Darko}

INTRODUCTION

he novel faceless is an attempt to identify how Amma Darko uses prose fiction * as a vehicle to cross-examine the complexities of the Ghanaian women’s lives in relation to culture and gender.

This novel explores feminist insight into Amma Darko’s philosophical reflection on the plight of women and girls in Ghana. The novel plays on the theory assumption that literature is the mirror of society * which tenders different perspectives or viewpoints of problems and their solutions.

Amma darko’s novels reflect the nature, causes and possible solutions to myriad feminist issues confronting Ghanaian females. Darko’s novel provides lenses through which we better understand some of the core cultural contest on feminist issues in Africa as a whole.

SUMMARY OF FACELESS---------^{AMMA DARKO}

hen Maa Tsuru tells Fofo that Baby T’s mutilated body has been found at Agbogbloshie , Fofo sets out to seek justice for her sister’s murder. In a twist of fate ,she runs into Kabria and a non-governmental organization called MUTE which functions as an intervention library* for every social, gender and child issues .Kabria takes an interest in Fofo’s case and determines to find out what led to baby T’s death. With the help of Sylv Po , the reporter from Harvest Fm, they work their way into a syndicate led by poison the street lord that trades in child prostitutes ,drugs together with his accomplice , Maami Broni a retired sex worker and is linked to all manners of street crime.

In one of the most hostile parts of Accra ,Fofo’s story draws Kabria and her colleagues’ attention to the socio-economic menace that comprises a community of drifters and hustlers in Sodom and Gomorrah ,named after the biblical city that god destroyed due to its numerous sins. Amma Darko’s quest to find how Accra’s squalid Sodom and Gomorrah sprung up out of her old neighborhood at old Fadama led to a series of revelations that inspired her third novel. The story is also told of a innocent boy who ran away from home to escape the constant brutalities of a drunken father, Poison the street lord is that victim. He grows to become a bully more than his step-father was. The portrait of Naa Yomo is an outstanding case in point. Our initial impression of her as a character with a nuisance value quickly gives way to amusement and ultimately respect. For the women of MUTE, dedicated as they are seeking hidden, even buried information, this 87-year woman is something of a gold mine. Through Naa Yomo ,we get the antecedence of the curse Maa tsuru and her family carries. Although the author uses fictitious names, she narrates what can possibly be described as a real-life event at venues that really exist. Agbogbloshie, Makola market ,Korle Gonno, Abeka, Abossey-Okai and the all- notorious Sodom and Gomorrah in the Greater Accra region of Ghana.

THE CHARACTERS

(Characterization)

his is the list of characters (dramatis personae) in Faceless which could be divided into major and minor characters.

MAJOR CHARACTERS

Fofo
Kabria
Maa Tsuru
Baby T
Dina
Kwei
Kpakpo
Adade

MINOR CHARACTERS

Macho
Poison
Maami Broni
Mama Abidjan
Sylv Po
Aggie
Vickie
Odarley
Obea
Essie
Ottu
Ms. Kamame

Characterization

1. Fofo

She

is the 14 year old daughter of Maa Tsuru and sister to the deceased Baby T. she stopped schooling at a very tender age due to lack of finance. She could be termed as the heroine of the novel. Fofo is very outspoken, kind, caring and hardworking. Despite the fact that she is compelled to go onto the streets by the mere presence of Kpakpo, she perseveres by finding a menial job to do. Her life at a point in time is paralyzed by the fear of the thick-set leader macho and poison the street lord. It is through the courage of Fofo that the mystery behind baby t’s death is unleashed. After she experiences the harsh ups and downs of a street child, she undergoes rehabilitation.

2 Kabria

Kabria

is a married woman who has to shoulder her responsibility of caring for her home together with being competent at her workplace. She faces the difficulties of managing her career with her first responsibility of being a mother and Adade. She has three children namely : Obea ,Essie And Ottu. Kabria is very loving, patient and sympathetic. Saves Fofo from being lynched at Agbogbloshie market when she tries picking her. She works at MUTE organization and in collaboration with Harvest Fm, they go on an adventure to unravel the mystery surrounding sssBaby T’s death. She treats everyone as part of her family even ‘creamy’ her battered old VW beetle car.

3. Maa Tsuru

Mother

of Fofo and siblings. It is believed that she is cursed by her mother when she was being given birth to. She herself is a product of the streets and cares less if her offsprings become a nuisance to society. Maa Tsuru is a “free for all”, easily deceived, and makes her children go onto the devouring jaws of the streets. She sells Baby T indirectly into prostitution. Very quick-tempered. However, Maa Tsuru is remorseful and caring.

4. Baby T

Daughter

of Maa Tsuru,16 years of age. She is very kind and lovely. A great teacher she is as Fofo learns to pick-pocket from her. She is an innocent girl who is raped by her uncle Onko and her step-father Kpakpo. She is killed as a result of the connivance between Onko, Poison and Maami Broni. Start learning any African language today!