Akosua Abebrese Archives - Page 3 of 3

Why the HECK Must the Woman Always Be the One to CHANGE?

10/19/2014 7:03 pm

I had a good time at church today and as such I was not going to come here with any bit of anger left in me but the devil always has a way to distort the inner peace and happiness that God gives to His children.

It was a fundraising Sunday and I love such days—not because of the money but because I am able to dance for long. I go to a small church but on such days, they bring in all the needed musical instruments to make the church fun.

I always given 5 GHS and I won’t just increase it because it is fundraising when my salary remains the same. Hell No! I don’t miss such Sundays because of the good music and the opportunity to dance off some of the small devils in my life.

But it all changed when I logged on here to read an earlier article which plainly suggests that Ghanaians back home (Africans and Jamaicans back home) are some sort of paupers—who are alive because those abroad send us some money and toy gadgets.

What sort of deep nonsense is this? How many times in a month do you donkey working people send us money back home? All those days or months we do not hear from you, do you hear that we’ve died out of starvation? Tweaaaaa!

We may not be rich in cash but we are rich in time and happiness and did any one put a gun to your heads to travel abroad? The small pounds, dollars and electronic gadgets made by some Chinese children that you guys pass back to us should not give you the impudence to insult us.

When you guys ask us back home to send you Milo, Titus Sardines, Neat Fufu, African Prints, dried fish and all manner of ingredients including ‘Dawadawa’ and Okro, do we complain? You sit in Europe or America and you want our delicious made in Ghana Shito and yet you do not want to send us some of your pounds or Euros in exchange…

When did hand go, hand come became a reason to complain? When my Auntie in Canada comes home with her 7 children, always lined up like a football team—I do everything for them. I push their bags from the airport; I bath the children each day, wash their clothes and even become a tour guide who takes them on sight seeing. And she expect me to do all these for free?

So handing to me some cheap Nokia phone that you probably bought from a ‘1 dollar shop’ as a form of compensation has now become a headache—to the extent that you people have started complaining… You know what, when you die, let them bury you there.

When you see my African Print dress and you love it, you are able to boldly say it but when I love your new laptop, I should not be allowed to say it…Nonsense!

Let me move on to my main reason for writing today and leave these over worked brains living in cold countries alone. Perhaps, all their brains are frozen like those Kpala fishes we buy from the area cold store.

He Has Slept With Over 15 Women & He is a Damn Hero | I Just IMAGINED Doing the Same & I Am Tagged a Prostitute

10/11/2014 3:29 pm

by GC Contributor | Akosua Abebrese

I do not like to come on here always upset—as many may begin to call me an angry black woman, especially the men.

But since my circumstance which usually pushes me into frustration has not changed and the world we live in today is full of cotton headed men, I guess you will be reading a lot from me in this tone—things will change when some goddamn aliens descend from outer space and take away all the waste of time men who keep getting on my nerves.

In fact, I don’t really care if you think of me as an angry black woman—you don’t even know me so who gives a toss? Whatever it is that is currently going through your mind about me is your damn problem.

I have my own issues and surely you do have yours too. If you want to leave your issues unattended to and appoint yourself the moral police or the person in charge of counting upset people in the world without pay, then good for you.

For me, I freaking much do not care how you use your time and energy since all what some people do nowadays is to sit and judge people—without knowing the sort of hardship and nonsense they’ve been put through.

Before jumping to my main subject, let me clear the bushes by telling the men who may be lucky to be reading me the hard truth, albeit the awkward gospel, which many women do not tell them, making the men think they are always the winners—when in fact, they get used all the time.

Men think (I will not say some because all of them do and if you are offended, go and jump into the red sea) they are far smarter than women. And they seem to think they define who gets used in relationships—mostly, placing themselves as winners.

What these men forget is that, women are also human beings and just as they have the human feeling to want s£x sometimes, if not all the time, women do too. The only difference is that, we are extensively smarter than them and when we want it, we do get it but in a diplomatic and cunning ways such that, we retain our pride.

Few years ago, I was having fun with an area guy and yet he thought he was playing me. He had a girlfriend at Dansoman which I didn’t care. Even if he told me, I wouldn’t have mind but he kept pretending—all along thinking he was playing smart.

Where Can I Also Find that Son of a B*tch Called MUGU as a Boyfriend?

10/5/2014 2:40 pm

by GC Contributor | Akosua Abebrese

Perhaps I was born with little or no luck and I definitely have to blame my hopeless mother for not letting the local priest baptize me when I was born, instead, I had the now not so common home christening. My father couldn’t afford the white garment needed for the church service for them so they opted to do their little thing at home. I don’t even understand why she was messing with such a broke man.

I wouldn’t be working like a donkey and still be broke if she was more smart with her choice of men. I can hardly afford enough credit on my mobile phone to call this same mother after having called my boyfriend who can’t afford to buy the credit for me but expects to be called regularly.

In fact, his expectation does not even upset me as much as when he does the usual Ghanaian thing-flashes me, expecting that I will call back in the next second.

Things are hard in Accra and even with a University degree, things are not getting any better and my salary has not increased in the last 3 years. Yet, the gutter side Wakyee seller who I used to buy from each morning has increased her prices more than 10 times.

Nowadays, instead of buying the morning Wakyee each day as I used to—I only can afford it on Fridays and recently, she had the stupid nerve to ask me why she doesn’t see me more often. Maybe if she cuts down on the rate at which she increases her price, she will begin to see more of me.

Of course I couldn’t tell her that so I told her, I only eat Wakyee’s on Fridays to go with the gradually spreading ‘local Friday’. Instead of wearing just a Ghanaian print on Fridays, some of us have stolen it as an excuse to cover our inability to afford everyday Wakyee.

Girls are sweating even when it is raining in this part of the world. It is difficult to even be a lady as you have to fight the men for everything, the usual morning struggle for seat in ‘trotro’ at Kaneshie has become so normal to me and until my friend visited from London recently, I couldn’t remember the last time I was in a taxi.

Talking about ‘trotro’, I think the new set of ‘trotro’ men should stop asking for a woman’s number if they are not ready to even pay her fare. I wouldn’t mind trading my phone number each day for a free ‘trotro’ ride to work. But these guys wait for you to pay the damn fare and then they proceed to ask you for your number. The last time, I told one of them I do not have a phone so he should give me his phone and then he can call me on it later—you can’t imagine how quick his face changed.

That was just by the way, so let me dig into why I am writing this—and as you can see, I am damn frustrated about my current situation. If you are a woman in my shoes, you better be happy I am on a search for an answer for all of us because ‘Girls Abr3’.

Even though I am not a TV star, I believe I am far beautiful than most of the women I see on my TV. Maybe the picture quality of my TV is a little messed up as it is nearly 10 years old but my mirror tells me I will beat most of these girls in any beauty pageant—even if judged by blind corrupt men.

F*ck it, who cares about who is beautiful nowadays—it is all about who has that ‘MUGU’ in her purse. And by ‘MUGU’, I mean the somewhat derogatory Nigerian ‘word’ which has come to mean; a stupid man with a lot of money that can easily be talked into giving a lot away.

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