A'ra Dee

It was about 5:30 am, just another morning, just another day. I was in the bathroom, annoyed that my sleep had been cut short, annoyed that I had to have a cold bath, annoyed that I had to go to school. In the kitchen Dede, my sister, who had had her bath already was preparing breakfast and the lunch we were supposed to take to school. Wisdom was outside sweeping the compound, Daavi my granny was in bed as were my parents. It was just another morning, just another day.

Suddenly a scream cut through the eerie silence. It startled me, bolted me out of my half sleep mode, immediately I knew who had screamed and where it had come from. still wet and stark naked I run out of the bathroom straight to the kitchen. It was like something from a badly written movie script, there holding the handle of the door of our old was Dede, stiff as an over starched cloth on a harmattan afternoon and screaming like a banshee. I was first to arrive on the seen confused and lost as to what to do. Daavi pushed pass and went to her aid. In a bid to pull her off she too was was thrown  to the ground by the voltage that was passing through Dede.

Kofikorshi, my dad, got there on all fours, having tripped  while rushing in, my mum closely following. Just then I was kicked into action, by what, I don't know. I run straight to the switch and put it off, but not before I got my fair share of the electricity passing through. Dede fell  and for what seemed like forever she just lay there, leaving us all to fear the worse. When she did move it was so frail you'd think she was boneless.

She overcame that trauma, and the one that happened later when in a similar situation, while making breakfast on a morning, when ECG had decided not to supply us power, spilled boiling water all over herself, scalding herself extensively. She was out of school for close to a month, came back and still managed to pass all her exams.

You she has always been the surrogate mother, being the only girl among three boys. she cared for us, cooked and cleaned for us. She was our voice of reason. Of all my siblings she,s the one I closest to, she was the one with whom I shared carrying our asthmatic older brother home from school when he had his attacks. The one who calmed me down, took me home and held my hand through the stitches when I cut my ear playing with Fareeda Ahmed at El-wak stadium. She was the one who wiped my tears after the flogging I got when I was caught playing 'mummy and daddy' with Olivia Adomaa, and yes she was the first to catch me watching porn. She was the one who walked with me to church and school, helped me with my homework and taught me how to wash my clothes.

In University, she was the one I chilled with, the one who cooked for me to eat. Whenever I squandered all my allowance, guess who was there to give me money, and  when I went on a date with Esi Akyere and run out of cash guess who was standing at her hostel gate with the cab fare to prevent my disgrace. She taught me how to dance, and encouraged my writing, she took me for all those rehearsals as a kid and came and saw all the drama's I was in if she could.

My sister Ethel Dede-Terko Tettey, Ar'a Dee has always got my back. In many ways she has helped mold me into the man I'm becoming, she's my best friend and adviser, and maybe even the reason why most girls seem substandard to me. Yet somehow I don't think I appreciate her enough. The day she she gets married I'm sure will be the day I cry over another person, for now she's still my Ar'a Dee.

Finding My Voice

I was born a literate, I was born under strange circumstances and yes I was born laughing.
After twenty something years of living, I find that life is more than just what we see.
I come from a family as diverse as the number of people in it and I have always found myself in situations that make me the underdog, yet somehow, against my best intention, I have always managed to stand out, Maybe because I am a talkative, maybe because I can sound smart at times, whatever it is I've always been oil in water.

The first time I wrote something I enjoyed writing was when Ms. Owusu my JSS 2 English teacher (who I had a mega crush on) gave us an assignment to write a poem. I've lost that poem, and well most of my earlier  works, but I know it was about a street child, and I totally enjoyed writing that. So when in Secondary school I found myself among friends who loved writing, I was totally elated, from writing poems to woo girls to just writing letter I loved it all, and I do really miss writing letters.

I have since graduated to writing not only poems but drama scripts, dissertations, diatribes and well a lot of raves and rants.I started posting my writing on facebook with much reluctance and skepticism, but seeing the response I got from my readers just spurred me on.
 Joining Ehalakasa and POETS provided me a stage to not only exhibit my poetry but also perform it. Now I'm at a new frontier, BLOGGING.

A lot of people have asked me why I don't blog, and my answer has always been the same "won't have the time for it".  I have finally decided that my excuse is not good enough, it's time I too have a say. Maybe now I can share it all, my poetry, my stories my raves. Hopefully I'll find people to read, hopefully I'll make some sense, and hopefully I can tell you all the story of how I found my voice.