Friday, 10 June 2016

SEMESTER CHRONICLES: What’s Up?

What’s Up?















4th April, 2016. [I’m supposed to be working on a Sports Journalism assignment.]
For reasons that baffle me, I have been put into another annoying group for the second semester running. But how can you change that when you aren’t always in class? This group gives me more headaches than your grandmother complains of. They always expect something from me. This time, they want me to contribute towards a Sports Journalism assignment and as you might have already guessed correctly, I am using the time, the energy, and the laptop to type my beloved Semester Chronicles.
*
Let’s get it…


This year started off with a party. You probably missed it because you don’t belong in the upper echelon of social life in GIJ. Fixxx up yourself! The owner of the cafeteria, Auntie Ruby, celebrated her birthday in grand style. I was in Little Miami then, hiding from the sun, catching up with TV Shows, drinking Heineken beer, and eating Fufu. It seemed just right to be away from Accra. Accra is all that but sometimes the sun is too much. Sometimes the noise is too much. Sometimes the stress is too much. Think of all the people you have to take to KFC to get food. Okay scratch that. You people are rich kids… but Accra is stressful and you know it. So I wasn’t here. But because I am a distinguished member of the Rub-Dee Mafia, I was invited to the party. So I had to touch down and make my way to the Labadi Beach. I wasn’t alone. I never walk alone. I was with a Liverpool fan in the person of Sly, Chinedu, Holyshes, and the chairman of the Rub-Dee Mafia, Kay. Getting to the beach, we saw that the crème de la crème of students and lecturers were already present at the venue. It was Labadi Beach on a Sunday. All the sexy girls you see on Instagram were at the beach that day. We just blended in quite easily. Soon enough, we were involved in the fun activities and making merry in the celebration of life and another year of it. The banku and tilapia I was served is still fresh in my mouth. I could eat that every day till the day I die. Shouts to Original for hooking us up with those expensive drinks. And to you Mr. Asante, it was nice hanging out with you and not having to worry about assignments, presentations and whatever. Reggie, those shorts you wore were smoking hot, I must say.


 















 i
Don’t worry if you missed it. Better luck next year.

Then school reopened. The semester began. No new faces, just new clothes, new hair, and new attitude. New phone gang, I see y’all too! You the girls at that Asylum Down hostel, who is dashing you iPhones kraa? How come all of you have iPhones now? What’s the secret? Let me in on it. I am tired of using my phone. I won’t tell you the name. I don’t even know the name. Huge shoutout to those other girls that have brand new Infinix phones. I don’t even want to know where you got yours. Yeah, I’m a sucker for iPhones. 

I had a new class rep, Chomsky. No, that’s irrelevant at this point. Let’s talk about love. I love love stories. They do some things to my tummyJ Have you seen Romeo’s girl? Have you seen Nana Aba? Our honorable SRC President is the boss! The girl pap bad. She’s prettaaayy! I know most guys are crushing on her. Don’t ask me if I am one of those guys. These guys can’t wait for Romeo to leave school so they make moves on her. They are keeping tabs on her at this moment. The 500 cedis question is “how did Romeo get this girl?” 500 cedis because that’s the price of GIJ SRC Presidential Nomination forms. Were they together before he contested? Was it after? Who knows? It’s absolutely wonderful if you found love. I want to say congratulations to my friend Alfafa and his girl Tina. Yours is a fairy tale kind of love. You guys complement each other so beautifully. How did you guys meet? Would you mind telling me please? When I grow up, I want to be like you guys. You are the envy of many.

Tina and Alfafa
The next couple that I want to talk about are so dear to my heart. They both have been my friends since first year and it is so heartwarming to see them together. They give credence to the saying that 'nothing is impossible'. Much much love to you Joojo and Hawa. What can I say? You guys have been seen in discreet places since your level 100 days but it's so cool to finally have to see you together in broad daylight.
Hawa and Joojo. Believe me, I know you would like to see Hawa's full body but I didn't get it... or wait
there you have it ;)

Another one. Joojo is blesssssed, ain't he?

Shouts to you if you have found love. Hold your dear one close and be great together. Share this link with your partner after reading. Thank you.

It hasn’t been all rosy. Some of you have had your hearts broken. A minute silence has been observed for you guys. Yes please, I took time out to text my crush. I know a lot of couples that had to end their relationships for one reason or the other. I really wish I could name names but alas… every man has a price, and I have been well compensated to keep my mouth shut. I can tell you some of the reasons why breakups occurred though. Some girls just got tired of walking from headquarters to campus with their boyfriends. They want to sit in cars and pose for Snapchat stories with seatbelts dividing their breasts. 
seatbelt on fleek

Accept it. That’s the new cool. Do you have a car? Has your girl left you? Please buy a car and go back for your girl. She probably still loves you but onua, wo nni car. 

Some boys also left their girls because the sezz had already happened and they were looking forward to meeting other girls. Some just want to smash and pass. Their mantra was, ‘there are many fish in the sea. Who wants to chew Salmon all his life?’
There were nice breakups also. There were couples that just accepted that dating and sex wasn’t doing them any good and decided to be friends instead. Those guys are the real MVPs. I doff my hat to you guys. It takes matured minds to come to such an agreement. The word ‘compromise’ does not even come close.
And there were those that broke up because the other was cheating. Cheating is actually the number one cause of breakups in this world actually. Well, according to George [Radio GIJ], that is. So some guys were caught cheating. I’m talking red-handed steeze, doing the sezz and panting, and sweating profusely. Others were also caught by way of WhatsApp messages. I am one of the few that are advocating for the ban of WhatsApp Messenger. Sometimes people tend to forget to delete their messages and end up having to explain why they texted their exes or why they told another girl she’s pretty and blah blah. WhatsApp has caused more breakups than all the wars ever recorded in the History books.
I am getting tired of this topic. For all you know, someone might even be planning to break up with me. Ei. Do I even have someone in my life?
I’m going to have lunch now. I’ll be back soon.
Kobby is here to continue this:

[Written by Kobby Elikem, 200 E]
The highlight of the semester was perhaps the final event of the Brand GIJ campaign undertaken by the level 200’s. Say what you want but what could come, came (in whatever way you understand, the point still is clear). iComm GH came first with Bee Prime Media Consult coming in second. The guys at Blue Bell Comms were fuming at their coming in third but such is life - you win or you just weren’t good enough. From bottom up, our Switch Media people were first (congrats to them for a job well done) and surprisingly, the W)y3 maamli guys – Comm finesse GH came in second.
It is said that a student cannot be better than his master. Bigups to Mr. Kenneth Awuku. Your head is bald for a good reason. And to everyone who was pissed or had a different opinion from the judges, remember opinions are like noses, everybody has one and sadly, yours didn’t count. And to those who were surprised at the turn of events, it’s obvious, Jesus is still in the Miracle business.








Hello, it’s me
I was wondering if after all these years you’d like to meet to go ov… Adele almost had me in my feelings there. -sigh
Fiifi Khoruz here again.
Written on 5th April, 2016. [Day of SRC Vetting]

Now, let us look at this semester through the political lens. The drama began way back during the holidays. After swallowing huge balls of banku, and sweating from the harsh taste of pepper, some students decided to state their intentions to run for various SRC positions. I am not saying they didn’t think it through before stating those intentions but let’s face it- what kind of sensible idea can you come up with after eating like that? And there were those who were convinced by their friends to declare intentions to run for office due to some peculiar reasons like, “you are eloquent, the SRC General Secretary contest should be a walk in the park for you,” and, “you dress really well, why don’t you run for SRC President?”. So throughout the holidays, these guys invaded our homes, our privacy, and our phones. Even while you were in the shower scrubbing your armpits, your phone would beep with a message from asomasi saying he has made up his mind to contest in the Organizing Secretary slot of the SRC because of his selfless nature and his dedication, hard work and the love of humanity. Your phone gallery is probably filled with images also. I always shed a tear for the guys that don’t use phones with the standard 16GB memory.
School reopened and the intensity with which these guys orchestrated their publicity stunts increased. They overtook our space and all. Banners were hoisted here and there. The air that we breathed either contained words or images that served as reminders that Mensah or Akosua was standing for an SRC position. The pitch was set perfectly and these guys were playing at a higher level now. It was pretty obvious that you either had to stake big or drop out of the race.

Some guys stepped down even before nomination forms were out. Level 300 PR-A kingpin David Acheampong, stepped down even before the race line was drawn. He cited personal issues that could not be disclosed as the reason for backing out of the race. This was someone who had hoisted what was probably the largest banner on campus.
Everyone was mad at him. He was mad at himself. For the reasons why he stepped down, students began to conjecture. Some said he had been well compensated by unseen forces that preferred another candidate for the position of General Secretary. They said that every man has a price, and that Dave had been paid off. Others had their own stories but believe me, I don’t want to go into it.
There are some other students that stated intentions but decided to not pursue the agenda anymore. Gertima is one of them.


Gertima
This fine fat man always seen in Ray Ban glasses sent out a message or two declaring his intentions to run for Financial Secretary. Can you believe that when the nomination forms were released, he was far away in Odumase-Krobo playing FIFA and drinking large bottles of coke? One cannot say if the price of the forms scared him or he just wasn’t serious from the beginning. He actually looks like a joke.

Let me hand over the baton to the Political Elephant to continue with this topic…

[Written by Kweku Eshun, 300 Journalism A]
21st May, 2016.
Are you aware Branding plays an important role in Politics? Last semester, they started testing the waters and some also had to consult the Oracles to gain their blessing before taking the bold step to contest for any portfolio on Campus. Those who had Political ambitions started to re-brand themselves to look good in the sight of the student populace.
Four strong men were vying for the highest office of the land until one met his waterloo. In fact let me borrow Sir Johns phrase: he was humbled by the baptism of fire he received from the Electoral Commission. Elections held in GIJ always come with a shock but this year’s election is one that will still continue to linger on in the minds of students. Some defeated aspirants are still nursing their injury and doing a post mortem of their loss :’( Personally, I thought it was a cool chop for some aspirants. Opinion Polls even put them ahead of their fellow competitors. Let me just veer of the road and quote my favorite scripture in the Holy Bible, Ecclesiastes 9:11b “ The race is not to the swift nor the battle to the strong, neither bread to the wise nor riches to men of understanding, nor yet favor to men of skill but time and change happens to them all.
‘Your mind for dey’, ‘SMART minds’ and other popular jargons that have dominated over the years were not heard. This time around, the jargons were personalized by the aspirants themselves. Jonah Eledi had people screaming ‘One like the people’ all through the election process. Madugu and his followers assured us of ‘an SRC to believe in.’ Ibs Rockson played around with words and came up with ‘Ibs Rocks!’
Days to the elections, the atmosphere was diffused with an online channel known as GIJ LEAKS which candidates used as a weapon to malign each other. The front runners for the Presidency also used the weapons in their arsenal to propel and shoot themselves to glory.
Different people from all walks of life were here on Saturday (for the weekend school) and Tuesday (for the regular school) to garner votes for their candidates. These people included past SRC executives, and National Political figures. Don’t forget this year is an election year so they all have interests in campus election.
Do you believe money rules the world? I can say without fear of contradiction that some of the aspirants and their team members shared 20 and 50 cedis notes to voters in a bit to gain their votes. Those that took the monies, how do you guys feel now? Some dey? I broke oo.
After all was said and done, “an army rose for God and country”. Madugu of Level 300 Journalism C, easily won the Presidential race. It is very interesting to note that out of the 6 available SRC Executive slot, level 300 Journalism C actually had/has 4 winners. Madugu as SRC President, Susu as WoCom, Junior as Organa papapaa, and the Man In White as External Affairs Commissioner. Kudos to the level 300 Journalism C students. What you have done is a truly remarkable feat.
New SRC Executives [Level 300 Journalism C]
I can’t wait for next semester’s General Assembly. Will the opposition leader be at GA to scrutinize every transaction that goes on?
*Over to Fiifi Khoruz... cheers!
What’s up y’all? I’m back again. Haven’t you had enough of me?
Should we talk about the SRC week celebration? I’m really not interested. I would rather talk about the Hall Week celebrations. No disrespect to the SRC but hey, do you want me to talk about the long Spoken Word about Kwame Nkrumah that the President did? Or you want me to talk about the artiste Mohammed’s performance? You probably want to hear about the fashion and modelling show. Shouts to Bongo [Nathaniel, 100E] for taking part 
in the runway event.
Bongo
I would like to talk about the twerking that those level 200 girls attempted on stage. ‘Attempted’ because I so wasn’t impressed. I mean, don’t they have Instagram accounts? The African American girls are slaying it on there!
Man, I’m so appalled I don’t even want to talk about the Hall Week celebrations anymore. Let me just get Kobby Elikem and plead with him to write about those. Maybe later.

7th April, 2016.
Thursday. I have just one lecture and it is at 4pm. But as usual I am in school at a little after 12 because I can’t afford to miss the sumptuous fufu served at the cafeteria [on Tuesdays and Thursdays]. I can’t say that I forgot today is the ‘Rep Your School’ thingy. I had it in mind from the day they announced it. I just didn’t think it will be lit enough. But believe me you, when I got to campus that day, the atmosphere there was hotter than hell fire. Place was lit. Man, you gotta give it up to those that went to second and third tier high schools. They put on a show that would be remembered by the guys that think they attended better schools. They wore anything that represented their former school. Some put on their school cloth. Others made sure the crest on their flying ties was showing. The vests showed the chests and arms of the guys, and brought out the beauty of cleavages among the females. Don’t you think for a second that I went to, pardon my French, a wack school that’s why I’m sympathizing with them. I went to St. Peter’s Senior High School so you decide where I belong. Anyways, salute to the organizers of the event. Shouts to those that repped their schools. Massive love to the girls that wore stuff signifying boys’ school. I saw a couple of girls that wore St. Peter’s flying tie. I saw the Pojoss ones too. Mad love to you girls. 7 gunshot salute to those that made the jamma session a success. All of you guys have a special place in Heaven. I promise to do whatever I can to be a part of this next year.


Adisco was in the bulding

Academy and Adisco

K'si boys were also in the building (Prempeh and Osei Tutu Boys)

Holico, I see you guys. Who's with you?

Kobby Elikem (Presec), Amber Rose (Porters), and ?? Adult Education??















21st May.
I have just finished writing my last paper. This sem's exams have been tough, no lie. First, all lecture halls were locked and students could not use them to study for the exam. Benches and Canopies were provided but some people need desks to study. The library was always full- more so when the level 200s had to write History of Africa. So studying was a bit difficult on campus but most of you are so survivors.

a section of students studying for exams
killers no see the exam top or what?


some guys see top?
The semester has ended and everyone is gone home. Almost everyone, I beg your pardon. Some of the guys stayed behind to settle scores in their beloved FIFA. So here I am, seated among them but not playing. If I played, who would write Semester Chronicles for you guys to read. I am just here, glasses on, and shirt off, darting my eyes around and applying finishing touches to this piece.


Unfortunately, I am so sure I have left several newsworthy items out. I know most of you would like to know about the Face of GIJ event. i would like to tell you about it too but I would be spoiling you. Next time buy tickets and witness the program live. Much love to Emefa for being crowned the Face of GIJ 2016.
Emefa, Face of GIJ 2016.
Another reason why you are not reading about Face of GIJ here is my blatant refusal to add it- mainly because of the incident that happened at the O2 Lounge, Osu. This was the venue for the After Party. I was there. And believe it or not, we were asked to pay before entering the club. Where does that happen? So most people were left standing outside. Either they didn't have money or they felt it was silly to pay to enter. So yeah, for the first time in the three years that I have been in this school, an After Party of the prestigious Face of GIJ flopped! I can only blame the Women's Commission for deceiving us. They made us believe that there was no gate fee to enter the club. Oh and did I mention that when people shrugged the yawa off and decided to pay, they got bounced because the club was full? Yup.


Anyways anyways, I can't bring you much. I am human and prone to forgetfulness. Moreover, I am tired, my sponsors didn’t pay me this time so… you bab? Shouts to Keteke. I know you guys would like to have your trip to Nyameani and Piase written about but no. Maybe next year.
Poetic License is in full effect here.

See you next semester.
Fin.


Design and Pictures:
* Paapa Sly, Level 300 PR.
Sly's Twitter



Writers:
* Kweku Eshun (Kay), Level 300 Journalism

*  Kobby Elikem, Level 200

* Fiifi Khoruz, Level 300 Journalism
My Twitter



PS: I felt too lazy to read over everything so please correct whatever mistake you see. You can't edit it? Then please ignore the mistakes. Thank you for reading.



Thursday, 5 May 2016

GIJ- the Judas Within Us.

Originally written on 11th October, 2015.


For the observant eye, the clean premises of the Ghana Institute of Journalism should impress whenever you find yourself on campus. Here, I want to dedicate a-minute silence to the cleaning staff. You guys are the real MVPs. You'll seldom see litter, be it in whatever form. The campus is almost always neat. 'Almost always' because I'm not on campus everyday. Maybe there's dirt when I'm not around. I can't talk about the unknown.
One might wonder why the Ghana Institute of Journalism is so neat and litter-free. Maybe the clean nature of the school's environs transcends onto campus. Everybody and their mother knows that the Ghana Institute of Journalism is located in the upper echelon of Ghanaian communities: opposite the school is the British High Commission; adjacent to the school are houses which command rent or sale fees in US Dollars, and are lived in by white men, rich men, and diplomats alike.
How do you drop sachets on the ground when all you drink is bottled water?
Moreover, the Ghana Institute of Journalism's campus may be so neat because of the presence of waste bins found at vantage areas. It's just a matter of locating one of the many, and walking over to it.
If that argument sounds flawed, use this: the students realize they're at a university and maturity and class has to ooze from every vein and artery. Why would you drop litter on the ground? Are you okay? Were you not brought up well? What high school did you attend? Don't be silly!


The Ghana Institute of Journalism has a clean environment.
Clean. Yes, clean. No, wait.
A quick Google search for the meaning of clean displays:
clean - /kliːn/
adjective
1. free from dirt, marks, or stains.
2. morally uncontaminated; pure; innocent.
3. free from irregularities; having a smooth edge or surface.
4. (of a taste, sound, or smell) giving a clear and distinctive impression to the senses; sharp and fresh.

Number one envelopes all that I have talked about.
Number two is for the morally upbeat individuals. Religious, if you like. "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God." - Matthew 5:8
Number three. Is there a difference between that and number one?
Number four. Think of number four as that serious student who always reminds the lecturer that he has assignments to collect. Annoying brat that always allows himself to be used by the devil.
I was going about my cleanliness rant when Google's fourth definition of 'clean' caught my attention and threatened to destroy the serenity of my mind, and of GIJ's campus and its environs.

clean - /kliːn/
4. (of a taste, sound, or smell) giving a clear and distinctive impression to the senses; sharp and fresh.
This definition doesn't talk about a place. Are you with me? This definition, in its spectrum, captures an entirely different image - of a taste, sound or smell.
I can't wait to ask my learned colleague, Google, how a taste or sound can be clean.
Smell though. It seems plausible.
Correct me if I'm wrong but it seems like SMELL could be clean.
And this is where the Ghana Institute of journalism falls short. This is the Judas Iscariot among Jesus Christ's original 12 disciples. This is Asamoah Gyan's missed penalty kick against Uruguay at the 2010 World Cup Tournament. This is the rape case that 'threatened' to tarnish KKD's fine image. This is that one scene in Suits where Harvey Specter displayed a rare emotion and told Donna, 'you know I love you'.
Bad Smell. This is the UNclean environment students of the Ghana Institute of Journalism have to endure on campus.

GIJ. Clean surrounding, unclean smell.
How does that even work?

The washrooms on campus exude the worst smell you can imagine. That particular female washroom adjacent to Lecture Hall C1 is the main culprit. I can't begin to think of and then fathom what these females discharge that smells so bad. Attending a class in Lecture hall C1 is akin to being punished to scrub the toilet in high school. How do you study in such appalling... No. How do you study in such smelly conditions? I'm pretty sure the authorities have been notified several times on this issue. The cleaning staff who I saluted early on in this write up should please return my salute. You guys should be ashamed of yourselves for letting bad smell dent the good job you do in cleaning the school.
Please do well to make the washrooms smell okay. Of course, we're not expecting the washroom to smell like the Cafeteria Jollof. That's heavenly. But at least, let the place smell like... Like nothing. Just let the washroom be a bit appealing to its users and undergrad students trying to get an education, and a degree in Lecture Hall C1. Overall, let's ensure that there's a clean smell on campus as this could entice prospective investors and students alike to stay.


Word of Encouragement:
My colleagues, let's stay clean. Let's continue to drop litter in bins. Let's curtail indiscriminate flatulence also.
Dear cleaning staff, you guys are doing an amazing job already. Please add the smell of the washrooms to your thoughts and let's experience a clean air.

Thank you.

PS: Students are now complaining of the gravels that serve as the walking ground for us. They are... in fact, WE are complaining of the dirt that engulf our shoes when we get to campus. Also, some other students, including Chinedu and Phyliss Lamptey have shared their discomfort on the issue of walking. They claim to have had the soles of their shoes destroyed by the gravels. Students are quickly losing patience. It's high time the authorities changed their minds and actually constructed brick pavements in place of those gravels.
*
That's all I have for now. Join me after May 21st for Semester Chronicles.


Written by: Fiifi Khoruz,
Third Year, Journalism C.
@FiifiKhoruz

Pictures by: Jay Zugah
Third year, Journalism B.

Tuesday, 29 December 2015

SEMESTER CHRONICLES - ANOTHER ONE









I shouldn't have done this in the first place. Leaving the exam hall frustrated after my last paper and having to deal with the absence of reading glasses, this was always going to be tough.
But same ol’ me wanting to talk about things that happened during the just ended semester couldn't keep my fingers off the keyboard. And I've got sponsors this time- The DUNCANS






Let's ride--

Dzisah buil... sorry- Dr. Wilberforce Sefakor Dzisah, the Rector, built the nicest and most powerful building the Ghana Institute of Journalism has ever seen. Yes, no lie. It might not necessarily be the nicest building you have ever seen but hey!
The building Dzisah put up is spectacular. I won’t lie. I was so impressed that I thought about going up to his office to congratulate him. I thought about it. That’s the farthest I got to congratulating him. My pal, Chinedu, stopped me at the stairs. He agreed that the building is magnificent. He spoke passionately about the lights and the design of the front view. He called it the building’s ‘façade’ if I remember correctly. He wields a good command of the English Language, that guy.


front view of the all new D (zisah) block
Anyway he stopped me because he said Dzisah didn't put up the building. He had a few questions for me: “Is Dzisah an Architect?” = “Did Dzisah design the building?”; “Is Dzisah a mason?” = “Did Dzisah cut, carry, and fix blocks?”; “Is Dzisah an electrician?” = “Did Dzisah fix all those pretty light bulbs?”
😢 So yeah Dzisah didn’t build the magnificent edifice I’m so hyped about. Cool, it’s nothing. But know that without Dr. Dzisah, that building wouldn't be there this semester. Three-storey, four large lecture halls, several lecturers’ offices, male and female washrooms… -sigh- Thank you Doc.


even when it's dark outside

another angle
The building was put up to aid in the accommodation of the fresh crop of students that gained admission this year. The number of students that are accepted into GIJ each year is rising at an alarming rate. I think it’s high time we moved to the new campus at Okponglo.

“iuhgfgfdtrf”
Oh?
“kgkhftygffytfgf”
Oh, okay.
Sorry, I was listening to a little bird whisper into my ear that that campus is far from completion. GIJ might not exist there till five years from now.
We are stuck here at Ringway, with an increasing number of students annually.

This year, they came in. They flocked in in large numbers. You would think they had the same parents or actually came in from the same senior high school. They seemed to know each other. Soon enough, I understood their ‘unity’. They had found themselves in a new environment and felt oddly comfortable around one another since they were all new here. Gradually, that weird unity crumbled when the old dogs [who keep learning new tricks] decided to attack the innocent female preys. The second year students were a bit reluctant to pose as old dogs since they were still learning baby tricks, and frankly, they couldn't match the wildness of the guys in levels above them.
The fourth year students are either too busy or totally Jon. Either way, you won't even see them on campus talking to any girl at all.
But the third years. Oh my days! Can you believe competition was so tight, you realized all your guys had already spoken to the first year girl you just spoke to? The 'Time No Dey' rule was unconsciously in effect. The October Rush was mad. All the fine fine girls were grabbed with tactics carefully laid-out and executed with pinpoint precision. Guys became Pep Guardiola and Jose Mourinho in the chase after these young and pretty, and I beg your pardon, naive girls. I heard the story of a level 300 Journaism C guy who claimed he was protecting one particular girl for her off-campus boyfriend. They were seen together everywhere. It was a gimmick -not meant to attract attention- but to divert and thwart his opponents. He was actually dating the girl! Oh Romeo would be jealous of how this Juliet was grabbed.


GIJ guys be like

Some of us haven't yet said hello to these fine girls. But we no bore. Patience moves mountains. We shall get there.

These first year girls are so privileged. Ask any fine first year girl whether she hasn't been accompanied from campus to Headquarters. That's the kind of privilege I'm talking about. These guys would walk with these girls all the way to Quarters and walk back alone. If you do this, how different are you from those trekking across the desert in search of greener pastures? At least, they are going in search of good fortunes. You act as a girl's escort all the way from campus to Quarters and walk back alone. Ankonam.

While guys walked all the way to Headquarters and back, others were struggling to find their feet. Academically, that is. After postponing the reopening date several times, school finally reopened on 28th September, and we had only 11 or so weeks to engage in all activities- academic and extracurricular.
"This semester was packed. It's been really tiring for me." - Ohenewa, second year.

Ohenewa


I can attest to that fact, albeit in a different context. She was okay. She just felt she needed more time to go over her notes. But me? hmm lemme show you a conversation I had early on in the semester with one of my closest friends, Benedicta. She's in Tech, 4th year. In case you didn't know, my name is Evans. She calls me Evvs.


















 I didn't even have notes. I couldn't keep up with the truckload of assignments and projects. I couldn't even stay for two continuous lectures, let alone group meetings. And that was how my group members decided not to include my name in a Political Communication assignment. I couldn't blame them much. The pressure has been enormous for all of us. Special thanks to several colleagues, including Sandra Hyde, Tryphena, and Kwabena for helping us during the revision week.
What of you? How was your semester and examinations? Great? Wow! ow not so good? Not to worry, if you trail, you can always resit the papers. Just ensure that Frimpong Manso, Esq. doesn't have you "flushed out of the system!!!"

It's strictly by faith that we made it this far.

The semester also saw an overwhelming increase in the stealing of mobile phones. God knows I shed a tear and another when Hawa's iPhone 6 was stolen from her bag while she was in the exam hall scribbling away. I was worried about how I would see her ah-mazing body on Instagram after that. I'm planning a fund-raising event for her. She needs to get another (i)Phone quickly so we get to see her hips on full display ;)



Hawa
Talking about this phone theft issue, were you on campus on December 15th at around 3 pm? Oh, you weren't? Wonso deε. Not to worry though. That's why you are here.15th December. 10 days before the birth of Sir Isaac Newton and Jesus Christ. The Diploma students had finished writing their paper, and not surprisingly, another phone had vanished from its owner's bag. You Kumasi people can stop imagining Kyeiwa's disappearing act. Eyi yε physical!
The owner won't listen to the 'Fa ma Nyame' that echoed from us. She preferred to give it to Antoa. Oh yeah, Antoa. That was an amusing choice if you ask me. Why would you report your stolen phone issue to a god that has had its shrine robbed?
This fine girl in a red dress rushed to the cafeteria and bought white eggs and erm... white eggs and a bottle of Ice-cold Star Beer. Yeah chale, beer for Antoa. She rushed back to the forecourt, called on the Antoa bosom, and cursed whoever stole her phone.
Apparently, her phone costs ¢1,500 only. So she denied God for that amount? Females. Petty bunch. Well, she was lucky Mr. Quashiga didn't witness her madness. Oh he would have called an assembly and dismissed her outright without fear of contradiction from the condescending PHD holders bearing recognized positions.
Yeah, according to hearsay, the Doctors on campus look down on the Masters. But who am I to comment on that? I'm just another undergrad student trying to stay within the 1st and 2nd Class honors. Menyε Doctor, menyε Master, frεme braa.


Moving on. The race to sit in the fully air-conditioned container is on! The top drawer guys have all made their intentions known cleverly. Jonah Eledi of level 300 PR. A. is in the contest of his life with Madugu of 300 Journalism C, Ibs Rockson of 300 PR. A, Alfred of 300 Journalism B, and, and I think that's all for now. These are the guys that have openly declared their intentions to run for the position of SRC President. Their PR skills are in full flight with flyers and banners and dissemination of mass messages and man-to-man conversations. These guys have their heads up because that, which they crave, is the very top of student politics.
Salute to David Acheampong for declaring his intentions to run for General Secretary also. Hardworking, and absolutely brilliant, that guy.
There are other students vying other positions but erm... Only Kausara Lukman a.k.a Mama Karo [for SRC Organizer] and Phyliss Lamptey, Queen of Yaa Asantewa Hall [vying for Women's Commissioner] seem serious enough. These ladies are everywhere pulling strings and reassuring us of their credibility and leadership qualities. You might want to note their names. More power to your elbows, guys! Those that would come out of the shadows and declare their intentions to run next sem also are welcome. Everything is set for next sem actually. It's your time guys.




-Turns up the volume: 🎵🎵 for the one corner there; Ekiiki mi 🎵🎵-

Grandiloquent; Politically inclined; Kweku Baako's son; Intellectual masturbater; Camp Nou Faithful; Messi worshipper; Debonair; Unpaid registrar; Your go-to-guy; Chairman of the Rub-Dee Mafia; Ranking member of the Duncans; Dada T-Yaazo; Keteke President; Media Eshun: whichever way you know him, he is everywhere on campus. He's actually the only student with an office on campus. Kay turned erm, 20-something in December and the party organized in his honor was a kra bε hwε. Credits to the organizers [Rub-Dee & The Duncans] for planning an event on campus, in the cafeteria, without Kay's knowledge. That takes some doing. I told you he's the chairman of the Rub-Dee cafeteria mafia. Kay is privy to all information on campus. You can imagine his genuine shock when he walked into the cafeteria that afternoon and saw the jamboree. He was met with "S U R P R I S E" and all that fancy stuff rich kids like to say at surprise parties. Your man was humbled. He was dumbfounded. Then came the biggest surprise. His sweetheart, who was supposed to be at the office, helping the government, appeared out of nowhere and presented him with a tight hug. Kay almost peed in his pants.

KAY and his sweetheart, ESSUMANBA JOSIAH
KAY and CLARIS




A SECTION OF THE DUNCANS




KAY and OHENEWA

Kay with Auntie Ruby 


There are several other stories I wish I could tell you but my sponsors are curtailing my creativity. Remember the Mr & Miss Akwaaba pageant where Bukom Ban ku was invited? What was the reason for the SRC doing that anyway.. How much did they pay him? I think they should have brought in a musician.  Remember the SRC-organized trip to Sogakope? Did you hear of the students sexcapades on that trip? Do you remember when the current Face of GIJ auditioned for Miss Malaika and got overlooked in a humiliating manner? If you ask me, she deserved it. She was too terrified out there. You need to prepare for these things. She should ask Mina the level of preparation she indulged in before going for the audition last year.


*
It's become pretty difficult to achieve First Class Honors. Forget about studies in the meantime. After paying school fees for four continuous years, you may end up with a THIRD Class. Let that sink in for a second.
Out of all the students that graduated this year, only 5 had their names in the First Class list. Two regular students and three weekend students. Congratulations to those 5. Fantastic Five. Hardwork paid off, I guess. A moment of silence for every graduate that's not getting hired because of bad grades.                                



Agyenim Boateng, one of the graduands on that day
I remember the week that list was posted on the notice board. Students had a solemn look on their faces. Them see say nowhere really cool like that. Most were seen in the library busily reading. Others were seen in groups having discussions. I laughed. Oh, I laughed so hard. Like, one day of seriousness won't even get you 9 out of 15 marks in any IA at all and you want to use one day of studies to attain 1st class? You dey joke! Please get serious now and keep it consistent. Only way.



There are lots to be told but we can't spend all day here.
I could tell you about the lecturer that has made it a habit to chase all the level 200 girls. He's married. He's a Lawyer and he teaches... I've been stopped.
And what of the level 300 fresh boy that is competing with a lesbian for a level 100 girl? I mean, what sort of silly contest is this one? Who's he going to blame if a lesbian manages to win over a straight girl? How can you be fresh, be a ladies' man, and be in such a race? Onua, asεm wɔ hɔ oo. I can just imagine me, Fiifi K, competing with a lesbian for a straight girl. Simple. Meet with them and propose a three-some. Everyone cums, everyone is happy.




In rather unfortunate news, a level 300  PR student was caught stealing drinks from Ben's fridges at the Cafeteria. The student, name withheld for investigative purposes, was nabbed by Reggie, who alerted the security men. He was quickly handed over to the police for questioning and subsequent punishment. This incident occurred in the early hours of Tuesday, December 29, while school had let out some 9 days ago for holidays.

*
That is everything I can bring to you for now. Thanks to you for staying with me. Special thanks to the Duncans for making this writeup possible Enjoy your holidays. See you next sem. Till then, yε wɔ krom!

**
Design by : Sly, level 300 PR
Twitter @BoB_419

******
Stories : Fiifi, level 300 Journalism
Twitter @FiifiKhoruz




Friday, 12 June 2015

The Legend of the Area Slut

Her crimes were 3. She maintained that they weren't her faults.

1. She was a female.
2. She was sexy and naughty.
3. She had learnt how to ride at an early age.
Her crimes should have been 4 but she insisted that you can't be plain looking and be naughty. Naughty went with sexy. No one agreed with her, but she didn't care. They earnestly agreed with her in the throes of passion and that was all that mattered. Her name was Belinda but everyone called her Belle. The last person that called her Belinda got a cut at the top of his left eye. She hated the Belinda name and there was absolutely nothing anyone could do about it.

Belle. The name sounded French but she lived in Takoradi. Belle was really pretty. She knew it. Everyone knew it. But instead of being shy and lowkey, Belle was the area slut. If you lived in Takoradi and never had sex with Belle, sorry, ayɛ late. She was heard bragging to her mom that she sucked and fucked more men each day. Her mom had nothing on her. Belle's speech was filled with profanity and occasional sarcasm. [She wasn't really smart to always be sarcastic].
Belle was getting bored. I mean, anyone would be. Her sexcapades were still amazing as fuck but she wanted more. Olivia Twist. It was a habit she couldn't give up though sex didn't do as much as excite her anymore. Her libido was insatiable. These kids [as she referred to them] couldn't keep up with her.

She hadn't always been Belle, the slut. No, she had actually been just Belinda for some years…

Belinda lived with her mother. She loved her. She didn't feel anything for her father. She didn't know him. He had left town right after Belinda was born. Rumor had it that he fell in love with a 17 year old girl and ran away with her. Belinda didn't care. She had her mother and her other fathers. Every night, her mother brought home a different man and Belinda always heard them having sex. Occasionally when she was bored, she tiptoed to her mother's bedroom door and watched proceedings. The first time she went to watch, she almost went in to try and stop her mother from getting hurt. Her mother was lying on her back with her legs parted wide open in the air. The man was shoving his penis in and out of her. Belinda's mother was screaming so loudly that Belinda thought she was being hurt. Then she started shaking uncontrollably. She shook for several seconds then became still. Belinda saw her smile. Then she heard her say thank you to the man. Belinda tiptoed back to her room and lay there confused. The next morning, her mother left for the market. Belinda's father, for the time being, was in the living room watching tv when Belinda walked in sans clothes. "Do to me what you did to my mother last night." That was all the man needed to hear. He took the 14 year old naked girl in his arms and made love to her. Belinda felt alive. The slut had been awakened. Every day after that, Belinda made sure any man that stayed after her mother had left for the market, made love to her.
That was years ago. Belinda was Belle now. Belle was 23 and easily the prettiest girl around. Added to the pretty face, she had a voluptuous body that got men and women looking at her more than once when she passed by.

Belle was in her zone. She had her face buried in Jane’s pussy, lapping away at the juices that flowed from the explosive orgasm that had just rippled through her. Jane got up and kissed Belle on the lips. She pushed her tongue into her mouth, tasting herself. Salty, but just as sweet as Belle’s pussy juice, Jane thought. They continued to kiss while Jane cupped Belle’s left boob in her palms and kneaded it. Trailing her kisses down Belle’s neck and all over her chest, she grabbed the right boob and flicked the nipple with her tongue. A moan escaped Belle’s lips. Belle was already wet by the time Jane’s mouth got to her pussy.
Her favorite lover was Jane. Jane was a sexy 18 year old girl that Belle had been friends with since school days in Syto. She and Jane shared secrets. To Belle, Jane was as good a fuck as she was. She admired how Jane paid attention to every detail. They both were alike in every way. The only difference was that Jane was light skinned. If being an area slut was a property you could pass on, Jane would inherit it from Belle.

Belle was bored. She wanted to leave Takoradi. She wanted a new experience. When she heard that a white man had arrived and was teaching ICT at the Syto, she knew her that was her chance to leave town. Within a few weeks, she made sure the white man was madly in love with her. The wheels were in motion. The area slut was leaving town. People said the white man took her away because she had used juju on him. Others said she had simply gotten pregnant for him. The stories were many, but one thing was clear: Belle had left Takoradi with the white man.
Those she slept with knew they would miss her. But they loved her more when they found out what she had left for them. To them, Belle was like Jesus. When He left, He sent down the Holy Spirit to be amongst us. Belle had done the same thing. She didn't just up and leave. She left them her own version of the Holy Spirit. If you live in Takoradi and you want sex, you know where to go. Don't be late. Don't be an Otoolege. Belle left Takoradi her protégé. Jane is the new Belle. She's keeping everything wavy. The legend of the area slut lives on.




disclaimer

Thursday, 5 February 2015

EACH MAN FOR HIMSELF

The women at the back were involved in a fierce argument with the mate (bus conductor) over a certain 10 pesewas increase in the trotro (bus) fare. Insults were hurled from all angles in a variety of languages. You should have heard the Ga-speaking women. For a moment, the trotro seemed like your usual pray-for-me church with insults sounding like tongues. I was sat in the front seat beside the driver. I expected him to try to intervene on behalf of his mate. I expected him to try to explain to the passengers that the increase was due to the latest hike in fuel prices. I expected him to say something! But no, he kept mute and just focused on driving. The mate was left alone to deal with the passengers. Each man for himself.
I got off the trotro at my junction and made my way to campus. Brushing the events of the morning aside, I went about my business from one lecture to the other. At a little past 2pm, I spotted a fine lady emerging from the library. Her skin was the colour of groundnut paste. I made a mental note to find her again and start some sort of friendship. All too soon, darkness approached and I had to go home. I said good bye to my friends and made my way to the junction to board a trotro home.
Lo and behold, the first trotro that came around was the one I had sat in that morning. This time, I found myself in the middle, beside a fat woman. I was sitting awkwardly on one buttock. The woman had a lion's share of the seat. I kept my discomfort to myself. There was no need to start an argument. After all, each man for himself.
Gradually, people got off and others got on the trotro. Soon we approached my stop and only a handful of us remained in the trotro. We got to a police barrier and our driver stopped at the request of the two policemen on duty. He got out to talk to them. At the same time, the mate opened his side of the door, apparently for fresh air. Soon enough, it was established that our driver was lacking in several areas of road safety. Chief amongst them was that he was driving without a license and with a broken tail-light. We could hear their conversation clearly. The policemen were demanding 150 cedis before they let him go freely. The driver argued that was his day's earnings and begged for reduction. He called his mate to bring the money over and that's when we realized the absence of the mate. Apparently, the driver had met him just this morning and taken him on since his usual mate had traveled to the village. A guy he knew from nowhere had vanished with his day's earnings of 150 cedis and some coins. This was the guy the driver had left alone to deal with insulting Ga women this morning. What goes around comes around. Now, the mate had left the driver alone to deal with demanding policemen this evening. Each man for himself.

Wednesday, 28 January 2015

Time Will Tell

The roof is caving in
I'm crumbling under the pressure
The weight's too heavy but I ain't even training
I'm angry, I'm consumed by displeasure
My thoughts just decided to fatten
Back then, being carefree was never a crime
These days, I have to worry about several things at a time


Hey Sis, I know you feel the pain
I know you know it's gon' be alright
Don't even think about it. There's really no one to blame
And never forget: I got you baby, I got us!

Hey dad, I don't blame you entirely
I know you regret most things. You are sorry.
I feel it in my heart
But don't worry much, I know life is hard
Although you left, without making things right



Just keep it steady, y'all
Hold on tight, don't fall
I'll be your super hero
I'll take you to a hundred from that zero
You feel me?
Let me be Frank with you
I promise you guys a Sinatra lifestyle
Drake in the background
A smile on my face
I know tomorrow will be good
We'll be great
One day, I'll say without fear of contradiction
That...
I ain't got no worries!