Waiting in Pain

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She’s Withering.

Snakes in suits

Voted lords of the kingdom

To spit venom

On the masses

Swallow our sweat

Sink their teeth 

Into our progress

Kill our dreams

And halt our growth

Like withering sunflowers

On the fields of

Indifferent farmers


Let us pray for life 

To see their last year

So we can invest

Our now useless useful power 

In a new choir of amazing voices

Singing sweeter songs of hope


Let us wait 

For the rain

Of venom

And sharp tooth

To subside 

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For Offeibea

I was admiring nature’s beauty
During a sojourn on a recliner
Under an olive tree
On which a dove perched
I lurched
And lied as a mannequin
For a proper view
Praying for an everlasting company
From this beautiful companion
With a snowy covering
Yet a warm heart
And cute nails
A delicate specimen

If I had wings
I would fly to my lover
Lift her away from the noise
And land ourselves in peace
Hidden from grapevines
Away from expensive preachers 
And blood thirsty ministers
Of a dry state
Our dead state
We would be far
From the privileged
Begging please men
Who arrest our freedom
Of expression
And movement
If we do not line their pockets
For them

Oh if I had wings
My dear dove
Give me your wings
To escape
With the joy
Of my life
To a quiet abode
Upon a wealthy patch
We would never lack
Tranquility and health
But trouble and fear
We would roll
On the beach
Naked to ourselves
Clothes hide
The human in us
Knowledge of ourselves
Is the strength
Of our faith and trust
In each other

As my beautiful companion took flight
I imagined her going
To my lover
To return her to me
Or give her my message
Of death here
And a rebirth there
There remains undisclosed

Feel No Pain


Usually when I send my mind on errands
It goes afar
Forgets its errand
And returns with negative results
Like a roll of used film
I try to make it better
But editing applications
Alter the looks only but not the lives in the photo
So I remain anxious
To see a change of results with my eyes
And forget that of my mind

When I send my heart in search of love
It finds love
And when love comes
It reveals myself to my lover
So she may know who she’s loving
I let my heart guide me in showing love
I climb the highest of heights to show it
But I show too much
So my lover leaves me
For she can’t reciprocate
All I’ve shown
I get hurt not only by love
But by the blizzard I’ve been left in
My hearts discovery saddens me
But I must continue this journey in the wild
With it

When I allow my feet to take me anywhere
It takes me to various scenes
Where I hear various voices
With various messages
Which do I let my ear take
Which do I let my ear strike out
The ones that hurt
Or the ones that satisfy
I’ll take the pain
For at a certain time
It will heal

Now which do I neglect
My mind
My heart
My feet
But each brings a new lesson
And each must be learnt
So I’ll be more careful
Than before
To feel no pain

AH !!


I locked myself at the car park weeping. I could feel my heart escaping from my body. The more the wailing, the longer the flow of tears. A waterfall swallowed by my mouth. So salty. I couldn’t blow my noise because I was tired. Tired of everything. Tired of my job, my family, my friends and of course, my lover! What else would a woman cry over? The same old story everyday; I said to myself. Hitting the steering wheel so hard the horn scared a little girl walking with her mum. It was 1:40Am at The Mövenpick Hotel. What were they doing there at this time. None of my business I guess.
I knew it was him I saw with the lady in the white dress. He held her hand like a man consoling his lover. It couldn’t have been an office colleague. Hell no! All the girls I saw weren’t this pretty. No offence. It’s a fact Yaw and I agreed on. I couldn’t leave; my tyres were glued to the tarmac. All of a sudden I got paranoid. Imagining scenes of Yaw pounding this girl. She looked so attractive, another girl would fall in love with her. Her soft, dark shiny hair flowing to her buttocks, her complexion; dark and smooth. She looked like a supermodel not just a model. Like them Naomi Campbell type models. Oh well, I’m not bad myself but she’s a ten!
I entered the One2One bar to meet an old colleague from Achimota; my alma mater; Kwasi Antwi. Lucky I was there 2 hours before the agreed time. No! I was unlucky. If I had arrived 30minutes late for the meet up, I doubt I would have seen such a sight. Why am I such a punctual Ghanaian girl? As soon as I set foot there, there was Yaw with this other lady sitting before me. I knew it was him. He was wearing the shirt I got him for Christmas. Yes, the blue Polo by Ralph Lauren. An original, not the one with the insignia of the jockey falling off the horse. Why would he wear that to meet a lady other than me? At this time of the day too! On the night before my birthday! I was furious but I wanted to see more. Aware that I was unnoticed, I left quickly and locked myself in the car to wait till he came out with her. I got nothing. Both had not left. Ah! I was mad now. So he was really sleeping with her!
  At 4:30am my phone’s message tone woke me up. I got scared, thinking I missed something. His car was now in sight. Hallelujah! It was too dark to see it then. A black Mercedes Benz Kompressor AMG. I sighed a sigh of relief and kept watch. All of a sudden, I heard my tone again. It was a WhatsApp message from Yaw.

“Hi Akosua darling, Happy Birthday. I’m still waiting for you at Mövenpick Hotel. Sorry for trying to get you to come under the guise of Kwasi Antwi. Thought you’d be here at the agreed time. No problem I’m guessing something held you up at work. Guess who I met at the bar. It was Mansa Addison from Motown. Remember her? She’s lost all the weight dear. She looks stunning now. She approached me as I sat there waiting. She saw our wedding photos on Facebook so she was sure it was me. According to her she’s going through a break up from a 5year relationship. It’s so sad. I had to keep her company and console her as I waited for you. She gave me her card to give to you. I miss you dear. Please come and let’s take a day off here to celebrate your day. Call me immediately you park at the parking area. Can’t wait to see you


Shit! I exclaimed. I got mad at myself now. Then, another message from Yaw.

“Odo, please wear the black lingerie I got you for Christmas. My favourite! 😍 See you soon.💏”

I was wearing it too. Hmmmm…


For Afia. An apology and a request.


Shower me with your aqua

For I am withering in the garden

I have been trampled upon so many times by infants

Always stamping and laughing

Showing no remorse

Water me like the experienced gardener

You are


Shower me with your aqua

Keep me like a beloved son or daughter

Or a sweet memory

Shower me 

Let it flow deep to my roots

To clean my stains

Those painful stains


Shower me with your aqua

I’ll be yours till the end.

Shower me with your aqua

I’ll be more than a friend

I’ll be the rose of your life

Shower me with your aqua




Where Are The Bins?

I totally agree here. The National Sanitation Day idea is uselessness. Accra is still dirty.

Official Website of Kow Essuman

Last year, whilst the rest of West Africa was hit with the deadly virus, Ebola, Accra, the capital city of the Ghana, the gateway to Africa, was hit by a cholera outbreak. It is inexcusable that in the 21st Century, any modern city such as Accra should face such an outbreak. Lives were lost and people got sick for days and had to be away from work. And in some cases, were admitted at the hospital for days.

In response to this outbreak, the government came up with an initiative, a propaganda reaction to the problem, like everything else. On 1 November, the government declared the first Saturday of every month as a National Sanitation Day. A sanitation day? How does that solve a cholera outbreak? So apparently, on this so called National Sanitation Day, all Ghanaians must get involved in cleaning their surroundings.

Forgive me but when I was…

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