By the Fireside

Son of the land

I have viewed struggle as a steppingstone, an opportunity to learn vital lessons for the next chapter. Getting out of my land of birth and embarking on this journey to America was a mission of self-discovery for me. One thing I discovered quickly was how to fail!

Over the years, I had never failed any major test life threw at me. It almost felt as if I had the cheat code. Someway, somehow, I would always emerge victorious and avoid failure entirely. The challenges may have been tough, but I’d gotten tougher, and would eventually figure my way out. But that would no longer be the case when I landed in America. Two weeks after my graduate program started, I was tested. And yes! For the first time, I failed an academic test. I couldn’t get my driver’s license on the first attempt. I couldn’t make new friends. I also failed at being consistent with going to the gym. My faith and mental health wasn’t spared. I began to fail at the simplest of things. And no one in my hometown would believe that I could fail at some point.

A promising child from a distinguished family, born in the quiet town of Fodome, Ghana. In every town, the name of some distinguished citizens gave their family members a whole deal of recognition. And so, when one asks, “whose son are you?”, and I answered “Afuti”, I was accorded that immunity and preferential treatment. I grew up with such spontaneous grace. Although I may have lacked a certain pampering of boyhood, I never lacked good luck!

I grew up with such spontaneous grace.

My family was not particularly rich. However, as we say in Africa, the rich man’s wealth is in his village. The entire community came together to raise me, supported me with their little and celebrated whenever I did well. My father was particularly proud of me. When news swept across the streets of Fodome that their son was going abroad, they celebrated even more. Goodwill messages and support kept pouring in as I got myself ready.

I spent my last days with my best friends, Yaana and Berma, talking about what the future had for us, and how this journey could potentially affect our decadelong bond. We munched on some roasted corn and ground nuts, sitting by the fireside under the full moon, telling tales of freedom and justice. We spoke of the struggles of Ghana’s first president Dr. Kwame Nkrumah, South Africa’s Nelson Mandela, and Burkina Faso’s Thomas Sankara, who were part of the few heroes that truly wanted Africa free from imperialism… Well, we would miss the times at the gym. The village gym was nothing sophisticated; just a collection of rusty metals and abandoned car parts, improvised for dumbbells.

Oh! And when I fail again, I will remember where I come from, the prayers of my people, the memories by the fireside, then I will rise and try again, and keep on trying until I become successful. For struggle is nothing but a steppingstone!

Ten Mind-blowing Kenkey Facts

1. Do you know that every kenkey seller has a daughter who is your size? (Sorry ladies, this fact is for guys only)

2. Did you know that eating a ball of kenkey at least once a week increases your life expectancy rate by 50%? (Oh, you mean you didn't know?!)

3. Did you know that the size of a ball of kenkey is the same as the size of your heart? (Unless yours is a broken heart; research on that would be conducted later.)

4. And on the eighth day, God created kenkey. (Can I get an Amen!)

5. One man's kenkey, is another man's pizza; just as one man's abosam cartoons is another man's telenovela. (Loooolxz)

6. Kenkey reduces submarine accidents by 99%. (Meet me at Kenkey Fest and I'll explain further.)

7. Chocolate is the second most romantic thing to gift a lady. The first is a ball of kenkey. (Although sending her mobile money is a strong contender for top spot!)

8. Kenkey boosts mitochondrial revitalization in the cells by 83.6%. (Honestly I have no idea what this means but I hope you understand it.)

9. After signing the Bond of 1844, the eight Fante Chiefs ate Kenkey with the British. (That's the idea behind Fante Kenkey.)

10. Kenkey has one Grammy award, two BET awards, and 365 MOBO awards.

Bonus fact; Kenkey is better than premarital sex!

It's all about Kenkey Fest 2018 on the 3rd of March, 2018, at Mantse Agbona, James Town.

Come and let's eat kenkey and laugh over more mind-blowing facts

Another Day, Another Application.

As for being cooked in the hot sun, I am used to it. When I finally get this job, I would sit in a soft chair that has wheels beneath, a computer on the desk in front of me, and the breeze from the air-con would shield me from the loud sun till evening when the sun would’ve traveled to another part of the earth to torture another helpless job seeker somewhere. 

I pushed the glass door with optimistic humility and there was this fine young lady at the reception who smiled and welcomed me with a, “Hello, welcome to XYZ company, my name is Angela, how may I help you?”

I responded, “I’m a graduate, I came to submit my application for a job.”

“Currently there are no vacancies. However, you may leave your CV and application. If anything, we’ll call you.”

My instinct was to ask to see the director, or at least someone whose position was higher than hers. Even the receptionist turned me down before I could tell my prospective employers how multi-talented and dedicated I am. Over the past months that I’ve been home, I taught myself graphic designing, copy writing, and I’ve started learning how to play the keyboard. I have an interest in Forex trading and bitcoin investment. My desire to learn new things makes me believe I can survive in any career field, with some guidance and training.

I did a ghost writing project for an aunty on the use of some seeds and herbs to cure certain sicknesses. Because of the extensive and intensive research that went into it, I can prescribe some handy remedies to manage (or even cure) diabetes, cancer, kidney stones etc. and here I am, unable to go beyond a twenty-something year old receptionist. My ego had been wounded, my skills undermined! I said an okay and then went out, humbly as I had walked in.

‘If anything, we’ll call you’ was the newest most abused phrase one may have to deal with. Waiting for a prospective employer to call you is like waiting for a ship at the airport. 

All the CVs and applications I had littered the organizations with, none had called me back and months passed. The closest I could get was an aptitude test which was often a combination of Engine Maths and Psychology, and an interview. 

One cool Tuesday morning, some two months ago, my confidence suffered an erectile dysfunction when I realized that the position I wanted, which had only two slots available, we were about eighteen applicants, waiting to be interviewed. Some of these applicants were as old as my father. Others too were as experienced as the waakye sellers in Madina. The rest of us, about three fresh graduates, kept silent and listened to the frightening encounters of our comrades in this job search until it was our turn to be interviewed where we would speak well-rehearsed grammar to answer questions like, why should we give you the job, what are your salary expectations, what new thing are you bringing on board etc.

At the end of it all, I wasn’t selected because I didn’t have experience. 

I need experience to get a job, I need a job to get experience.

                  

How do I get the experience if you don’t give me the job to get the experience? Who designed this? 

The reality donned on me when I got home. I remember telling the panel that they should select me for the job because I am smart, dedicated, I can do this and do that etc. In essence, the real reasons why they should select me for the job ranged from being rescued from the feeling of abject hopelessness borne out of idleness, and secondly, so that I don’t die of starvation. Some people may disagree with me, but deep down your souls, you know that what I’m saying is true! 

A lot of graduates run away from teaching jobs. The truth of the matter is that, onaapo! -to wit, 'you won't even get!'

Just then, my phone rang. It was an unsaved number. “Finally, a prospective employer is calling,” I assured myself as I answered the phone. It wasn’t an employer. It was a distant cousin of mine who called to ask for hundred cedis. This can’t get any worse. I hoped. 

 

On the brighter side, I do graphic designing, scripting (ghost writing, project writing, biography writing etc.), and copy writing. I can teach too. Abyna and Vanessa do beads and all kinds of bracelets at affordable prices. Akushika sells photography equipment. My very own Facebook crush, Barbara Delali sells sweet perfumes. She prepares and sells sobolo as well. My good friend, Chisom is into waste management. Cyril Setusa, is a full-time land surveyor. Atsu supervises projects (all kinds). Arday can be your gym instructor, body guard or bouncer. Robert is into computer software and hardware repairs. Emefa and Afia are upcoming architects. Desmond is a footballer; he is the solution to Liverpool’s defence problems. In case you need any of our services and many others, kindly contact me on 0543451269. These friends of mine have fresh university blood in them urging to succeed!

I have some friends too who are marriage materials; just tell me the number of yards you want, and I’ll link you up in no time. 

Now, let me continue with this my Another Day, Another Application job hunt project because;