This is a satirical letter from a young university boy to his mother. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is a coincidence. Enjoy and give you comments.
I haven’t received any letter from you in a long while. I miss all those words you used yo write to me. After I get angry over some of the things you write to me, I find sense in them later. I think the youthful exuberance sometimes try to take a better part of me. Please know that your advice is well taken.
Mother, the last time we talked on telephone, you told me how you can’t have access to news these days because it makes your electricity charges go high. They say the computers at the offices of those who regulate that are not good. Well, like I always do, I will try and update you more on some of the happenings in the country in my next letter.
As for today, I want to let you know a few things, the first of them being how bad I feel about your decision not to let my sister go into media after school. You see, I once read an a story about a photo journalist who reported during a war and waited secretly at a hiding spot for an eagle to pick up a baby who wasn’t dead so he could get a nice shot. The story continues that this same journalist wrote beside this picture “”I have seen enough” and committed suicide.There are others too. I heard of one David too from a group called Multimedia who also hid somewhere on a story building to take pictures of the recent Kwame Nkrumah Circle flood captioned it,“30 Dramatic photos as Accra Sinks in Flood”. How journalistic he might have thought that was.
I think about it sometimes and don’t really get it. Probably if I get it, it would be a different story but this should not make you deny her the ability to use her skills. I know how much you don’t like it when you see them pretend to use an accent that doesn’t exist on T.V and radio, I also know how you make your face when they speak all the big words they would probably never understand in their lifetime. But those people also laugh at others who are being real oo? Let’s just hope she stands out.
Mother, you know I have just left school. Don’t worry too much because I am not home. I am trying so hard to put things together because you have told me all about how life becomes when uou have to pay the school fees of your brother’s wife’s sister’s children. Keep your calm, I have seen enough. I saw a lot in school and I’m prepared to see more. Of course the memories of school are amazing, and sometimes I think four years is just not enough but I only think like this when school has reopened and we are still in our early weeks. My thinking changes after the thirteen weeks of lectures. That is when I wish I had followed my J. H. S mates who opted to learn a trade. No offence. But of course there are other memories too; joining long queues to buy a meal I always told you I don’t like at home, “g)b3”. I am always tempted to join the qeue because I wonder why many people would queue to buy it but I always get my answer after the day has ended because there will be no other expenditure and also probably because there is a “Daavi” behind it.
Mother, you should know that the elections are almost here. I told you the last time about the two men who said they can make Ghana better, right? They have come up with new ideas and I think you should vote for both of them. Ooops! Thats not possible. One said he he can see change is already here but the other said he can see it coming. Which is which? Is it that they all can’t see clearly?
About three letters ago, you told me about your white cloth. You said a lady who had paint on her face mistakenly stained it when she dozed off in a trotro that you were in. Sorry I should have warned you. That is what has “come on top” now. Some of them can transform their face into cats and all sort of things. They say its called make up. Well, then why does it make people down these days. Is it because they over use it?
I nearly forgot to tell you to start charging the solar lamps because you would need them soon. One of the men who said change is already here might be right, anaa?
Mother, I’ll write back to you next week because I’m in a long queue, fighting and pushing people away to register to serve my country. Am I not patriotic? I will see you at home soon.