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Click  here for Part 1  of Compound House Chronicles. It is a free show now with tenants peeping through their windows to see the faces behind the outrage. They know Kofi Maame will be involved and she is right there in the thick of affairs. She is second best to Auntie Maggie in the league of scolding and her razor mouth could break even the heart of iron. She is the encyclopedia of the house (has information about every single tenant) and is the ‘nicest’ first tenant who befriends new co-tenants as soon as they move in. Kofi Maame trades information about every single tenant in the house in exchange for new information and ‘something’ about the newbie. Gossip comes to her so easily. And like pictures on a TV screen, her friendship is just as fleeting. Currently she is not on good terms with at least four tenants in the house. Her type, is not so rare in houses like these. Her latest victim seems to be the younger sister of one tenant, with whom she has started a q...

Growing up in a compound house is an advanced study in deliberate provocation with topics in applied core values of patience, respect, sharing and caring. No one lives and grows in a compound house without learning and passing these core values. If one fails, that person may probably be the agent provocateur or the paragon of disrespect with extra traces of incurable impatience. Anger management skills and social psychology must be the next course for that person to pursue immediately. I lived and grew up in a compound house and I believe I have passed the core values with distinction. A compound house is a term used to describe semi-detached building structures where occupants share a common compound and utilities. Occupants in most compound houses and their guests share a common bathroom. They share a single electricity meter, and tap water. That which they are to share in peace and love are the objects of divisions, quarrels and acrimony. My life in the compound ho...

Yes, life happened. The memory of the great times Louis and I had in our first few months of marriage is still fresh on my mind. Little did I know that happiness, like glass, breaks easily. The memory of happiness they say makes misery woeful. Maybe that’s why I am where I am now. I still remember the day my joy turned into horror as if it was yesterday and my life has never been the same again. It started like any other day. I was still in the first trimester of my pregnancy and you know what that comes with. I spent more time out of bed than in it at night due to bathroom breaks and some other pregnancy woes. This made me so tired and sleepy during the day. On this day, I called out sick so I could go see a doctor and probably get some rest. My husband did too, so he could take me. Loving and caring Louis would not let me drive in that state. Despite my mood swings and increased irritability, he still treated me like a princess. I was given some medication and assured it w...

In a floral off – shoulder romper with her messenger bag hanging on her shoulder, she walked towards her two friends at the beach with a pair of shades in one hand and her iPhone in another. With a few inches away from her friends, she looked on her phone and said: “Which one too is ‘dabi dabi ebeye yie? Mtcheew!” Wendy looked up after her long chuckle. She got closer to the table where her friends were sitting, sipping on cocktail drinks in wait of her. She was still in rage. “In this era that Brazilian, Peruvian, and Mongolian and other types of expensive hair are must-haves; where Apple and Samsung have new releases each year; in this era where Miami, Bahamas, and Dubai are a must for baecations (slang for lovers’ vacation) and in this Ghana that Kempinski and Movenpick are the standard places for birthday dinners; who would date a broke guy? Ah! I’m so upset, mtcheeew,” she lamented. Wendy is the first of three girlfriends who hang out at least once every week to have fun an...

The Pulpit is an annual Gospel reality show on TV which brings out evangelistic talents in children and excites a lot of viewers over the last few years. But in commercial buses that ply Lapaz to Kasoa, little kids do not preach for the cameras; they live what the other children do every year on TV, preaching almost every day in commercial buses, winning souls for Christ and taking money for it. It is not as if preaching in commercial vehicles is a new phenomenon in Ghana. It is as old as the buses that ply the Circle, Kaneshie and Odorkor roads, but when kids between the ages of eight and ten are quoting scriptures with authority in rickety buses and begging for coins after each journey then the battle for salvation has become even more keener. That is the story of some young ‘trotro’ evangelists whom I have decided to call Paa Nii and Yaw. Their story is one of determination to survive against all formidable odds and a zest to win souls for Christ. It was a Saturday trip to th...