Humbled by BANKU

                  I know the title sounds unbelievable but I’m not kidding banku (a Ghanaian local dish) showed me how to be humble, not that I’m a proud person. No! Far from it. I learnt something more about being humble to people younger than you. Those who know me will probably tell you that they see as a humble person but this local dish taught me some lesson I’ll never forget about humility. Stick with me I’ll show.

In the family I’m raised in, it’s made up of me, being the eldest child and son, my cousin Ben who has been with us since when was seven, my two younger sisters and of course, the parents. In my house everyone knows how to cook by age 12 and I mean COOK. Yeah! My mom made a habit of getting us to the kitchen and giving us instructions about how to prepare the food and then she’d leave. She would always tell us the story of her big brother who went abroad and called then and said, ‘he wished he had studied how to cook.” I remember cooking as young as 12-13. When I usually tell ladies that I cook, they are go like, ‘Yeah right?!” I don’t know why it is so hard to believe. Just come and live in my house for three days and I bet you momma will get you cooking things.

It has always been a bone of contention as to who’s the best cook in the house among the children. We all knew the same recipe from momma so it was really hard to tell who was. So as time went on, we’d measure it by the one who knows how to prepare different foods that the rest didn’t know how to. My cousin, Ben had always been blabbering about me being the best in academics and computers but he claimed he was the best chef in the house. Well you couldn’t fight it he was the one who knew how to prepare a particular dish I hadn’t learnt how to yet. Ben lived with our grand-ma for some time and she showed him how, my mother hadn’t taught us yet for one reason or the either. So yeah when you always went outside the house and learnt a new recipe and it was good. You classified yourself as best. Yep Banku! But before I get there I have to tell you something. As an individual I hate it when people say I can’t do something. I hated when he always said he was the best chef and I go like, “okay on what criterion?” Then he could ask, “do you know how to prepare Banku?” Then I replied loudly, “that’s the only dish you are basing it on” and he would smile and say, “well yeah but you don’t know how to either” and of course I didn’t but my pride took the challenge on.

My mom had asked someone to prepare Banku for the evening’s dinner and got up and went to try it and oh my God! I made a mess of things. But even in the mess, I thought it will all get okay. Apparently I had put too much water in the mixture and so it wasn’t getting hard. It became like porridge. I remember Ben woke up and when he saw it, he said, “it will never get hard!” but I was resistant and said it would. And he left. After ten more minutes the mixture just wasn’t getting hard enough to be called Banku so I called him, “Charle! The banku isn’t getting hard oh.” I had to finish. I was running late, my parents were bound to get back any time soon and that thing still looked like porridge. He came and told that the same thing happened when he started the first time, he had put too much water in it and grand-ma shouted at him but should how to correct it later. So I watched him put more of the raw corn dough into the mixture on fire. I just watch this younger cousin of mine teach me how to do this thing. I was so made humbled by the experience. Here I was, being a little proud about doing something  hadn’t taken time to learn and my cousin teaching me how to. I don’t know if you understand but if you know this cousin of mine, he in a way looks up to me and some of the decisions I make mainly because I’m older than him, so me now having to learn from him was new but humbling. I know it made his head swell but I didn’t care. I learnt a lifelong lesson. It doesn’t matter who the person is before you whether he’s 7 or 70 years you’ve got to be humble. Humility doesn’t mean looking down on yourself. It means there are certain things you don’t know in this life, you have flaws but you are willingly to learn from whoever teaches you whether he’s 7 or 70.

Guess what? Just two days ago, we ate Banku and guess who prepared it. yeah Me! Ben wasn’t even there to eat some. Before he came home it was all gone. Yea you might think that now Ben and I probably know how to do all the same dishes but I know he still taught me how to make this very one. In my life and in cooking somewhat, I have taught Ben certain things about certain dishes and different things but I don’t think I can ever compare it to the value I learnt from him. And Yeah…I was humbled by banku.

 

The King & The Prophet

(the president plan and God’s plan)

I don’t know how you are going to take this but then again I believe it still has to be said. I know many of you will probably not agree initially but… Do you believe that leaders of nations (presidents) should have men of God (prophets) that they consult in order to know God’s plan for their nations? Maybe you haven’t thought about it before but stick around I’m going let you on something.

For those of you that have read the Bible at least the Old Testament, I’m sure you haven’t failed to recognize the fact that Kings usually consulted oracles of God i.e. prophets concerning anything before they act or God will reveal to the prophet things that will happen if certain actions taken by the kings came into force. It is a sure truth any King that went contrary against God’s prophet failed in the run long if they didn’t change. King Saul, Solomon, Hezekiah, Manaseh…the many of them. The few that listen to God prospered. David’s a good example.

Now why is the world the way as it is? With problems here and there? It is because men are dong things according to their own plans and not God’s. If they spent time to listen to God before taking any action, we would be in a better world, but no! How many Presidents seek God’s face concerning their policies, programmes and all? They do it because it seems good, but then again they forget the fact that God made the whole world and He knows it all. Why not ask Him? It makes things simple than assuming that those laws will work when passed. No seriously, how many presidents even pray? They may go to church and all but seeking God is more than that. It will be alright if president seek God’s face but they mostly don’t and that’s why the prophet is needed.

Imagine a world where our leaders sought the face of God in everything they do. What kind of nation will the people have? I think the power lies in us, since we are the kingmakers. Let’s choose leaders that will seek God’s face. Then again how will we know? By praying to change them. Many of us say politics is too dirty. Many children of God or Christians think that they shouldn’t indulge in politics. Ok? so what if the leader chosen by the other masses comes in to nullify your church and it’s activities. Then would you start to get serious?

If you want to find out whether what I say about prophets and kings working together are true. I want to look at a country that has leadership and people that have continuously sought the face of God, and tell me whether the country is well to do or not.

It’s simple, our world leaders if they work hand in hand with the prophets of God then will now take action based on what God wants for their nation and not what selfish individuals seeking what they think is right for their nations.

 

How is your Christmas Looking like?

                 I don’t know if it is just me or I just not feeling the Christmas here in Ghana. You know all that fun and excitement Christmas brings at the beginning of December. BOOM! All the so many nice things in town. Hey, don’t forgot already what Christmas really means? I know, ok? Even if you don’t ‘enjoy’ and ‘feel’ this Christmas, it still doesn’t do away with the real reason for Christmas: the remembrance of the birth of our Lord some two millennia ago. Now, that’s a special reason to reflect on and smile all through the festive season. Then again I ain’t feeling the festive part of the season. I wish yours is well.

             Do you know why mine looks a bit boring; I don’t know if you all heard there’s elections in Ghana. Yep! That’s why I’m from, I reside and I stay. I love it here. You know what they say, home is always home. For me Christmas here is ‘Politmas’…in otherwords filled with politics. They don’t even allow the Christmas songs to play on radio all through the mornings, those damn radio presenters, my bad!  One bit of Christmas carols and then it is all political talks, and campaign slogans and songs.  I like politics, ok? I probably would like to get involved in it SOMEDAY but hey, this one is destroying my festive season.

              I wish the elections ended on the 7^th December but of course no candidate had the above 50% mark and so a run-off  is to be held between the two leading contenders 21 days from the first elections according to the constitution. It’s interesting knowing tha at least we’re going have a new presidential face, the incumbent president’s term is ending this year. YOU SEE, I’m even talking politics. Ok, what do you want me to do? Go out and have fun. Yeah, pretty good idea though but trust me you get to town and then it is flyers being distributed about the candidates. This thing would have been cooled if it all ended earlier…but everybody right now is ‘feeling’ political and not ‘CHRISTMAS’

                Hey but I honestly would enjoy this Christmas personally in my own little way…there’s also the family gatherings, the neighbourhood folks, friends and the parties, matter of fact I even have on to go to tomorrow… Hey,  tell me how your Christmas is looking like and I hope at least yours is festive.

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

 

Retelling The French Voyage Pt. 1

                       I’m sitting here in the parlour downstairs – my aunt’s and uncle’s house in Abidjan watching some French comedy. You know, since I came here, honestly I have realized that the French people don’t make those nice movies like the Hulk, Spiderman, Stomp the Yard, and the other English thrilling movies. If they do show those movies, then it is dubbed in French voice. Jeeeeeeees, I don’t know why but like 80% of their programs are so boring. Well, you can’t blame me I miss the fun programs on Ghana television. You can’t blame me, home is home, right? Hahahh! I just laughed at some very stupid French comedy. I guess they do have something too.

 

                        Well, I have less than 48 hours to return back home after almost a year outside her. Okay! Right now I want to go through some Ivorian experience before I fly out. Where can I start from? Hmmmmm, someone said if you don’t know where to start, start from the beginning. So I guess the beginning will be how I got here. Well I came here first by bus, a government run service called STC. Since it was my first time, I was going to be an experience. I came with my Uncle, Isaac. Damn! The journey was so long.  I left the house at around 4am, the bus left at around 5am. You wouldn’t believe it but I got home to Abidjan around 8:30 pm. My buttocks was finished. Of course there were stops on the way but then it was my first time. All I had to resign myself to, was that probably my bus ride was less longer than for many others. You know I loved about the whole bus ride? The green scenery! I never had a chance to see all the way from Accra to Elubo and through to Abidjan. I saw it all, name it; water bodies, strange buildings, houses, languages, boy! I saw a lot in the long journey. I think once a while people should just take the bus ride to the nearest country. Boi! It is adventurous, but you know what? I will leave that to you to decide. Don’t say I didn’t tell you that you are missing on lots of things.

 

                       The language? Ohhhh! I know that’s was the main reason I chose to come here. The French language was another one! Yea, I did French back in school from Grade 2 to Grade 9 but that was a long time ago! Well I could remember the “ Bonjour” “Merci” and all the other small expressions. Jeeeeez but my French teacher was talking slowly, these people sure weren’t! Right in the bus, there were so many people who spoke French; others both French and English. Inside my own country I left like a stranger in the bus. Even my uncle called a friend of his in Abidjan on the way. Gosh! I didn’t understand anything. I tried! Who told you I didn’t! Like I said, my French teacher was talking slowly, besides all I needed back the in school was to learn what I had been taught and answer questions on it. Guess what? Final exams, I had an A. Here was I in the bus with bilingual and francophones and I didn’t know nothing! What the heck was I doing back in school then?

Yep! But trust me I had to make extra effort to understand and speak the language. Even now I am not perfect. I remember telling a friend of mine yesterday that I understand like 100% and speak like 80%. Those figures should even be reduced a bit. LOL.  Did you say why? I’m surprised at you. I have been here for less than a year, maybe 10 months at most and you think I know everything. It wasn’t like I came to school here to study French, nope! So everyday I learn something new. I remember the first time I went to church. Yep! You guessed it! It was a French church. How the heck was I going to understand was the preacher said? Before, it never crossed my mind; after all, my uncle spoke French. Unfortunately Isaac too was an usher, so he could never have time to translate. Well, I just decided in my mind to follow the crowd, though I would be seconds late on doing what they do. I just decided to sit there and pretend like I heard everything. Luckily, my uncle made some efforts. There was this girl being ushered in by my uncle and he asked her if she could speak English. She answered. “yes!” Wondering, my uncle asked if she could translate for someone. She didn’t answer she threw her right hand, asking who it was. My uncle pointed at me and somehow I smiled at her. Of course I had to. Then she refused. Well, asked my why? Maybe because I smiled too much. Probably I should have frown my face that day. Well, she later went to her seat and asked some other guy, much older than her, to translate for me. Well, so calmly the guy came to take his seat near me. I was glad at least I would be able to understand what the speaker was saying. The guy told me after sitting, “I’m Elvis.” Certainly I told him my name. Well he did translate. Not the perfect English, but Elvis was so far better than me compared to speaking someone’s language. He was French and he didn’t speak so perfect English, sometimes mixing a few tenses but he was good. I thought he had done so well to study English in a French country, unlike me who couldn’t make a clean conversation in French. Well he helped me, I helped him. Sometimes he corrected my mistakes in the French language, and me, his.

For the young woman who didn’t want to translate, I later learned her name was Stephanie. She was studying English in the university. She was just in her first year I heard. So the thing was she wasn’t so perfect, maybe couldn’t speak in a clean conversation like me. That’s one characteristic with the Ivorians I don’t really understand. They turn to laugh at a foreigner who makes a mistake in French, so even with the little English they knew they couldn’t speak. Why? Certainly, because they think the Anglophones will laugh at them. Those mocking would have discouraged me if it wasn’t for people other bilinguals and francophones who advised me. Like my Uncle said, “ I’m here to learn your language, I don’t care if you laugh at me, after all in the end, I know your language, and you don’t speak mine!” Well said uncle!

So I went from learning the small phrases, to the main two days a week of French lessons, one hour each day, with a very good French teacher normally called Tonton Pierre, I made it to where I am now, though still nowhere but somewhere.   You won’t believe I even lead a bible study meeting in French. Yeah!

 

                          The food? OMG! The second or so day I came here. I accompanied my uncle to go and buy some food. The call the food, “Atieke,” the main delicacy of the people. I remember watching when the food vendor was putting the food into a take-away. It looked like rice from afar. When I got closer, surely I thought I saw “Gari” – a local food in Ghana. If it was gari I was seeing, where was the stew or something in that category to go with it? All I saw the guy putting on the food was fish, that smelt so nice, and omg! Did the guy just sprinkled only green pepper on the food and hand it to us? Puzzled, I questioned my uncle as to what that was. He revealed that it was just like our gari back home.  With our gari, after deriving it from cassava, we fry it. But these people steam it with water. Well…I can’t deny the food was nice. When I was eating; I can recall the watch man, Jean, shouting that, “On mange ‘garba’ avec les mains” In translation, we eat garba with our hands, and I was using a spoon. (don’t get confused, I know I said atieke, now I’m saying garba. Well in a raw state, it is called atieke. When it is prepared by the men, with just their green pepper, it is called garba; amazing many people prefer that, to the nutritious one made by women with more vegetables and stew, which still retains the name atieke.) Get it now I hope! There are other foods, but lets stop on this, at least that’s the main diet of the people. I recall some people telling me that Ghana isn’t a nice place. Why? Because there’s no atieke. Yeah right!