SEMESTER EIGHT, DIRTY POLITICS; dirty in literal sense!

Semester eight, as finalists like myself affectionately call it has finally come. It has come like that bowl of tom brown and milk one orders at Conti Fee-paying canteen. From the days of senior colleagues  instilling the fear of university exams-life into us which contrasts the usual ‘university life is full of chilling’ stories we were told , to the days of waking up as early as 5 am to join registration queues infront of the main library, to the days of eating half-boiled yam, to the days of sitting aimlessly infront of Indece hall looking at busty girls (fearing to talk to them because of the tendency of getting an embarrassment of a lifetime), and then finally to the times when second and third academic years just breezed by us till semester eight, one can’t deny the uniqueness of the much awaited semester eight. The desire to achieve in one semester what we weren’t able to achieve in the other seven intensifies. For instance, boys use this last chance to get future wives; a mission that has for one reason or the other failed to bring an iota of success. This perhaps explains why final year guys are extremely caring, gentle, and sometimes flirty. 

Asides the final year vibe, second semester on its own comes with some unequaled breeze. Unlike the first semesters which because of its shorter nature, and relatively tougher examinations, the climax of activities are deferred to the next’s. 

As the wind of national and parliamentary elections is blowing, so are the bells of SRC and other campus elections tolling. It’s barely two weeks since school resumed and I hear about twenty five students have shown interest in contesting for the SRC presidency. The whole school is littered with campaign papers and posters and the only word I can use to describe this act of desperate politicking is dirty politics; the word dirty, more in its literal than metaphorical sense. People who have played no role in student advocacy whatsoever have just emerged out of nowhere, and before the whistle for campaigning is blown, the whole place is littered. 

Some of the posters and inscriptions that have littered campus.

What an eye-sore. Is that what politics has become? No intellectual engagement whatsoever, only driven by the desire to accumulate power (and wealth, as alleged). 

In the entire time I’ve been in Kwame Nkrumah’s dearest school, I’ve never witnessed second semester commencing on this tensed political note before, making me wonder if the elections are starting tomorrow. Normally, acts of this sort of (desperate) campaigns are suppressed until nominations and filing for political positions are officially opened. When this is done, a couple of debates and public vetting systems are put in place and then when the time is right, we go to the polls and vote for the most good-looking dude, or the guy whose name has a catchy acronym (ranging from BNI,TAG, FIFA, DNA, SAK, FBI to STDs and the likes). We have disregarded the assessment of people’s qualifications, skills and competence, and have given power to folks who buy our votes with material stuff or the promise of making us a part of the executive committee, or the promise of putting our names on the KBN list, or easing our accommodation burden by promising us rooms at SRC hostel and the likes (the allegations are so many). 

Why don’t we actually change the way we do things instead of reducing campus politics to this extremely ‘donkomi’ level? The incumbents, why don’t we have some public accountability scheme that would make them give account for how far their campaign promises have seen manifestation? If there was some proper accountability scheme in all universities, VALCO hall in UCC would’ve been painted and wouldn’t have been the most untidy building I’ve seen my whole life. And to really appreciate the effort of SRC, why don’t we know the difference between the school’s administration projects, and that of the SRC, and the ones that are joined so that praise would be given accordingly? Soon, these desperados would start-off making unfulfillable promises, and cooked stories like, “I just lost my Aunty” would suffice in a bid to gain sympathy votes. Female aspirants would be giving out free smooches, hugs and the likes to convince floating male voters etc. Some girls however have done their politics in decency. But because of our degenerated politics, nobody gives decent politics a chance. Many girls’ chances of winning the elections (by doing decent politics) are as slim as Chelsea’s chances of finishing in the top ten.  

Interesting political times ahead people… don’t give out your vote cheaply…

My First Kiss

When you see two or more guys listening attentively to each other, they're obviously not talking about sports. Mostly, they're sharing the success stories of the previous days' emotional adventures. To both sexes, a first kiss is an unforgettable experience to most people. In situations where the first kiss wasn't consensual or was from a partner who left our heart in shreds, we accord the gracefulness of a first kiss to the next kiss. For some of us, it took over two decades to get close to the land flowing with milk and honey. For some of you, it was probably in your teen years. While the rest also had the opportunity to be spoilt before the teen years. So this is how I got mine:

Once upon a life, I had (or still have) a friend called Adoley. Though two years older than Adoley, we were in the same year in the university. I was just a little taller than her. She was fair-complexioned, round, fleshy and soft. Unlike most plumpy ladies whose waists refuse to proportionate in order to invest much flesh at the 'frontus and backus', her waist didn't betray her. For this reason, Adoley had the ideal shape for a woman. For those who looked no further than the outward appearance (like the size of thighs, the gluteus maximus, mammary glands, etc), Adoley undoubtedly was a pass and an appetite raiser. Among the long list of admirers were lecturers, teaching assistants, Tech Police, Bomso Kwashey boys, prayer warriors, hostel mates, taxi drivers, virgins (like myself), TEWU members, TESCON members and the list goes on and on.

It wasn't miraculous how I found myself on that list because Adoley and I were in the same hostel. We became friends. She said I was her good friend because I seemed to be the only one who could have a conversation with her without looking at her chest. According to her, I had proven that I could listen without wanting to smooch her (if only she knew what I was doing to her body, in my mind). Because she didn't, she told me I was like a big brother to her; I'm like a roommate to her (she even roommate-zoned me).

I had no problem with the zones she had placed me in until recently when I found my roommates' persistent bluff about their emotional escapades too daring. In order to have something to say when my friends started talking about girls, I decided to go on a mission; to get a kiss...My First Kiss. Call it kiss hunting.
What was there to lose anyway? I'm a Fodome boy and we Fodome boys fear nothing. But my biggest psychological barriers came in two folds. 

First, Adoley had narrated to me how she ended up slapping about ten guys who attempted kissing her. One evening when I went to her room to eat rice and stew, she said, "A lot of guys try to kiss me unawares and it annoys me. I have slapped alot of them because I'm faster at anticipating their move. My male friends especially, are fond of doing that. If it's my boyfriend, fine, but for someone like you, I'll slap you haaard." Her stress on the word 'hard' hit me like a real slap.

The second barrier, much related to the first, was the idea that, that move would bring an end to our long-standing friendship. Adoley and I were so close that she could come to my room with only a towel around her chest down to her upper thigh. We ate from the same bowl, had silly long talks, etc. Add kissing, cuddling and other (necessary) stuff lovers do and we were qualified to be called couples.

One evening, when her dad had sent her money, she asked me to escort her to go buy food. When we returned from the jollof base, we ate from the same bowl. Next on the list, was watching a movie. 
Her head rested on my shoulders as we did so. My face was close to hers and I kept staring at her big lips and fantasizing. I could smell her breathe, and those pink lips were inviting. All that I needed was the confidence to act because in the supernatural world, I had even made love to her. But now, even the manifestation of a kiss was but wishful thinking. 
"Can I kiss you?" I asked, opting to go the gentleman style. 

She sat up and gave me a stern look of perplexity. 'Will she slap me despite my gentlemanly approach?' I thought to my self. She shook her head and gave me a wry smile. After the movie, when I was about to leave, she said, "Tony, we are good friends but I can't kiss you, okay?"
I smiled as if to say "no problem".

As I turned round to grab the door handle, she walked quickly to me and within a spilt second, she placed her hands over my shoulders. My hand (as if in reflex action), simultaneously responded by grabbing her waist. Before I could say Jack Robinson, our lips merged-stuck to each other as if glued. I enjoyed every bit of it. Then she did some funny stuff with her tongue until my roommate woke me up from my sleep, asking me in an angry tone, why I left the door ajar. The landlord's cat had entered the room, ate the fish from his plate of kenkey and was standing on my chest licking my face.
 
That's how come I never had my much anticipated first kiss.

A LETTER TO LT. GEN. KOTOKA

Dear Sir,

It is Christmas season yet again and as usual, fowls and goats would feel sharp blades across their throats, as boiled cassava and plantain suffer the thud of heavy poundings. Love would be shown to everybody (or most people) and by the start of the New Year, we would file for bankruptcy. Last year around this time, I launched the must-get-jollof-to-eat-or-else-i-jump-into the-Ada-river (to meet
Castro and co) policy. Natasha’s mum, one of my dearest aunties, came to my rescue when on the 25th of December, I presented my hungry face at her doorstep. This season is a season of love and merriment and two things for sure are that:

1.Although it is Jesus’ birthday, people (regardless of religious affiliation) are going to celebrate the season like it was their birthdays.

And...

2. People would stop pouring acid on each other until the festive season is over.

As my coequals are doing everything (ranging from buying hampers to breaking their virginities), I write to keep you updated on the kind of things that have been going on in this country since Nkrumah was
overthrown. Well, the legacies of governments that came after yours (and even before yours) are beginning to fade away as day in and day out, our government and people of 2015 keep doing incredible stuff that would make you want to take an exeat from heaven to come and overthrow the government and instill some discipline in the people.

Gone are the years when truthfulness in leadership was a key requirement of every government. If I had to get a kiss each time our leaders promised to bring load-shedding to an end & failed, I wouldn’t be a virgin at my age. Leaders must tell lies (all kinds) to be able to keep their jobs. Kotoka, please ask God to reveal to me in a dream the difference between loadshedding and dumsor, and also which of the Januaries, Februaries, Marches, Aprils, Mays… and Decembers that our president said the ‘dum-shedding’ would end. One of the main reasons why you overthrew Nkrumah, Busia was overthrown, General Akuffo, Kutu Acheampong and co were killed by Junior Jesus, was because of the high level of corruption that was supervised by their governments. In 2015, judges were exposed in a corruption scandal. Yes, judges. As if that was not enough, I saw with my naked and popped-out eyes, a National Service person (the ones who are supposed to be directing traffic), collecting a bribe from a trotro driver.

Isn’t it unbelievable? I didn’t know bribe-taking was part of their training. That’s how prevalent indiscipline has become in our days. But, I don’t blame them. We've run out of ideas to the extent that university and polytechnic graduates must now control traffic for about a year after school. If traffic control is so much a priority, why won't the MTTD (of the police service), be expanded? At least, graduates wouldn’t have the chance of openly tarnishing the reputation of their tertiary alma mater by taking bribes. After a year of controlling traffic, they won't have the chance of being retained. Whereas, if they had served in a company or other institutions, they would put in their best to stand a chance of being retained when the service period is over. Even if they're not retained, they get to add something of value to their CV's that will enhance their prospects of getting jobs in a country where graduates are expected to have job experience just after graduation, before applying for jobs. Maybe, taking bribes is the incentive and skill that, that kind of national service experience adds to their lives.

Well, it is not just Ghana that needs a cleanup. The world at large has also lost it. Terrorism haunts both the black and the white world. The difference though is that, the white world easily gets the support of the whole world to fight back, while the black world doesn’t get that much attention to garner a support against terrorism. Well, I am not surprised because we’ve undermined our own issues of safety just because the white world hasn’t initiated a mass support program like #prayforJune3rdVictims or #prayforKenya or #prayforEssien’sChelsea etc. The efforts of our own ‘yanoom’ who changed their profile pictures to the French national colors are as disappointing as the ECOWAS president’s contribution to solving the Boko Haram attacks in Nigeria (a very minimal impact; no wonder a certain democratic tyrant said he’s incompetent). One other interesting aspect about these attacks on humanity is that, when it is a muslim shooter, the entire religion of Islam is blamed. When the shooter is black, the black race is blamed. When the shooter is American, well, it is just a mental problem. The world is so confused that, a man can wake up one morning and decide to be a woman. You know what’s absurd, Kotoka? The fact that a man has to win the award of Woman of the Year. Yes! It takes a man to win Woman of the Year. Implication: men are now more real at being women than women themselves. Congrats to Bruce Jenner… or whatever his/her name is. And to those nitwits who were high enough to rob Antoa, hope you give your lives to Christ (after you are dead).

 
Signed
Tony Afuti Eyram
-A son of the 4th Republic (and a likely NSS traffic warden; unless a miracle happens)

WEEKEND FOOTBALL NEWS WITH TONY AFUTI

The big teams were in action in the Champions League a few days back. Arsenal, who lost shockingly to Dinamo and Olympiakos, brought Bayern Munich’s winning run to an end. There was no luck for Chelsea as they were held to a desolately goalless draw. Perhaps, they didn’t give their all in that match because they were reserving their energies to face a much tougher opponent who had bullied Arsenal, Liverpool and Manchester City earlier. 

Football lovers expected Real Madrid and Paris Saint Germain to push each other to their limits, but the game ended on a rather disappointing note as both teams only gained a goalless point apiece. Atlelico Madrid trumped Astana, while Bayer Leverkusen and AS Roma shared eight goals in equal proportions. The Manchester teams, who were destined to face each other later on Sunday were in Champions league action. Anthony Martial awarded CSK Moscow a penalty, and fifty minutes later, found the equalizer to redeem his mistake. 

With enough said about the Champions League, all eyes were now turned on the West Ham United versus Chelsea game. West Ham, as said earlier, had humbled the big’uns, and Chelsea fans had wished fervently that the Special One could come up with some tactics (such as benching Hazard) that would overpower the Hammers. However, Zarate scored for the Hammers, and shortly afterwards had a lob attempt gyaned over the crossbar. Chelsea responded a few minutes later, but their attempt was friendzoned by the goal-line technology. Fabregas found the back of the net, but the linesman had his flag raised, ruling the Arsenal legend offside-positioned. Matic contributed greatly to the Blues’ woes. His effort to hug from Sakho didn’t please the referee, and was shown a second yellow card so he could go home and hug his wife instead.

In the second half of that game, Mourinho brought on Michel Obi, who would contribute defensively considering the fact that they were a player short. He impressed, occasionally distributing some dangerous passes and winning a couple of tackles here and there. Cahill had given the blues a glimmer of hope after he had pounced on a loose ball which was malingering in West Ham’s eighteen area to make the scores level. But that wasn’t enough as Andy Carol was introduced and his head found the winner for West Ham United. Two one it ended, leaving Chelsea with no option but to be just five points away from relegation.

At Villa Park, the Ayews battled it out. The elder came close to scoring after welcoming a flirty cross from Gomis, but Villa’s goalkeeper responded instinctively to block Andre’s shot. Jordan received a rather weak cross, but dived carefully to score his first EPL goal. However, Andre wouldn’t allow his junior brother to outshine him. He proved that, although blood is thicker than water, one doesn’t drink blood when he’s thirsty. He scored in the dying embers of the game to bring his team above Aston Villa, after Sigurdsson’s free kick goal brought them level not too long ago. The next day however, Aston Villa board couldn’t compromise any longer with Tim Sherwood’s poor management and so showed him the exit. Many have already tipped beleaguered Brendan Rodgers as Tim’s successor.

Celta Vigo thought they could bully Real Madrid the same way they had bullied Barcelona, but their mentality suffered an erectile dysfunction as Ronaldo, Danilo and Marcelo hit the back of the net. Perhaps, the only thing more consolidating than their oversized football pitch was the fact that they denied Navas a clean sheet, although he impressed entirely in the game.

Spurs, Bayern, Barcelona and Dortmund were in a free scoring form thrashing Bournemouth, FC Cologne, Eiber and Ausburg respectively. Harry Kane hurricaned a ruthless hattrick in a thrilling five-one comeback against the newies Bournemouth. With Bayern shocked by the Gunners earlier, they seemed to have put the disappointment behind them and showed no mercy to FC Cologne. Barcelona, who do not know what a cleansheet is managed to get all three points from Eibar. Luis Suarez was able to bite all three goals for the Calatans, though they had to finish the last seven to ten minutes of the match a man less as Mascherano was shown a straight red card. Dortmund, who have been impressive so far breezed past Augsburg in style. Spiderman Aubameyang found the net thrice, while Marco Reus did so twice. Ausburg however could only fetch a consolation goal midway through the match.

Finally, Liverpool are still wearing ‘dross’ as their drawing streak continues; three draws in three games. The Manchester derby failed to produce any goals, and so City remained on top, above Arsenal (who had silenced Everton on Saturday) with a goal difference of six, while the Red Devils were in Arsenal’s favorite spot, though they have the same points with West Ham who currently is in third position.

WEEKEND'S SOCCER REPORT IN 749 WORDS.

This weekend’s football fixtures were enough to make a man reconsider his decision of jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge (or in the Ghanaian case, drink rat poison). Things didn’t go on well for both Arsenal (who were humbled to a three – two defeat to Greek giants Olympiakos) and Chelsea whose joy of beating Arsenal earlier was short-lived after they lost to FC Porto in the Champions League earlier this week. Liverpool was held to a disappointing one all draw in the EUROPA league, making a lot of football fans wonder what was delaying the club’s typist to finish typing Brendan Rodgers’ dismissal letter. The Manchester teams sailed smoothly to restore some pride which would be enough to make the Queen smile. 

According to reports, Neymar was a flop, and had it not been for the magic and dexterity of former Liverpool messiah (and manager) Luis Suarez, a ‘Messiless’ Barcelona would’ve been held to a frustrating one all draw, or perhaps, one nil defeat. Cristiano Ronaldo’s Real Madrid bullied Malmo in a game where the winger scored a brace. His goals made him the all-time Real Madrid top scorer.

PSG and Bayern Munich activated rape-mode, destroying Shakhtar Donetsk and Dinamo Zagreb to a three nil and five nil score line respectively. Atletico Madrid suffered their first defeat, while Juventus continued to excel in the UCL despite a poor campaign in Seria A. These exciting score lines made us wonder if those who won earlier during the week could repeat their accomplishments, and if Arsenal and Chelsea who were to take on Manchester United and Southampton respectively over the weekend could save themselves some redemption. Many people had already prophesied that Barcelona would suffer, especially considering how they narrowly escaped with three points in their Champions’ League group stages game against Bayer Leverkusen. Dortmund was to face Bayern, who would still play like they were a goal down even if they were five up (with Lewandowski scoring goals like Cristiano Ronaldo had nominated him to take up the score-five-goals-in-a-match challenge).

Though Swansea, Newcastle, Crystal Palace, Leicester, Southampton, Everton among others didn’t feature in any of the Champions’ League games, we still had a special place in our hearts for them as we expected them to pull a couple of surprises on the big teams. On Saturday, Manchester City completed a simple mission of coming behind from a goal down to thrash Newcastle to a six-one demolition (with Aguero scoring five, after having taken a challenge thrown at him by Robert Lewandowski). Reports from the Barcelona versus Seville game made all Real Madrid fans go to bed with broad grins, little did we know that, in our game the next day, Arbeloa could be generous enough to give Jackson Martinez a pass that led to Atletico’s equalizer. If Arbeloa was a Ghanaian, we would have invoked series of curses on him and his generation.  However, the game was more of a WWE match than a football match, with Atletico players performing a couple of DDTs, 619s and RKOs on the Madrid boys. Ronaldo was poor, and Benitez has a very long way to go as memories of our beloved Carlo Ancelloti are still fresh like the morning dew.

Bayern Munich neither showed Dortmund any respect nor mercy as they mauled them to an embarrassing five-one defeat. That was Dortmund’s first defeat in the season, and their season still looks promising.

Chelsea, just a few places above relegation zone kept going down. At first, it used to be funny to see Chelsea sink, but now, one can’t help but wonder which of the Fodome deities Eva Caneiro had cursed Mourinho with. Without the faintest of sympathy, Southampton decided to worsen their woes. Three-one, it ended. The dream to finish top four may only remain a dream, as they keep sinking game after game. The way Chelsea is going down, they may soon discover Mourinho’s dismissal letter. Everton fans may not have been pleased after their team could only pick a point from their game against a deviated Liverpool. However, Liverpool fans had the last laugh following the dismissal of Brendan Rodgers!

TV3’s Manchester United lost terribly to Arsenal. Anthony Martial couldn’t martial a ball into Cech’s net. Memphis and Rooney didn’t live up to expectation. I wonder the type of grass people smoke before they said Memphis is the next Ronaldo. Arsenal is full of gratitude to Chelsea for Petr Cech, to Real Madrid for M. Ozil and to Barcelona for Sanchez.