Good Mother: WHAT IS WRENT IS WRENT.

I'll give you a minute to ponder over that statement......

Moment over.

What did you come up with? I know. What in the blazes does that mean? What could they possibly be saying to us?

Picture me cruising through town and WHOA-BAM! I see this right in front of me. For 3 whole hours, my mind was on this one statement. What the heck are they trying to tell us? I mean, if this was meant to be a brain teaser, then it sure is working its magic. I chewed on this for a while and decided it wasn't worth the brain power. I simply gave up. "Good Mother: What is WRENT is WRENT." I mean, I mean, I mean. I've seen my fair share of incredulous writing, but this, this, oh this takes the cake.

One of many possibilities. He could be complaining about his rent. Perhaps he's trying to say what is gone is gone? You know, don't cry over spilt milk and all that and instead of WENT, ended up saying WRENT. But why the "R"?
A barrage of questions just flooded my head. Maybe it's time I gave up my decrypting title. I've held this title for a while now and perhaps it is time for me to hang my gloves.

Thank God for the company of smart minds. After driving about a while with my friend, we started talking and it just hit us. WHAT IS WRITTEN IS WRITTEN!!! Forget about the Good Mother bit. A good mother is no match for what is WRENT. Absolutely no contest. Months after he applauded his mother for her help in his life, he realized that he still couldn't change the path life has strung for him so he decided that upon all the goodness of his mother, WHAT IS WRENT IS still WRENT. I mean, what is life if things are not "WRENTED"? I hope I'm using the right tense here. WRENT could be past participle all on its own. Unless we opt for WRENTED as the pp. It's entirely up to us.

I'm just as amazed as you all are. An experience like that can completely traumatize you and leave your mind powerless. As good as I thought I was with deciphering the most garbled text, yet again, tro tro drivers on a daily, prove to me that you're just as good as your last scrambled/misspelt word. But now, I believe that I've passed the test. My WRENTing episode has widened my scope and spurred me unto greater and higher standards of malformed writings with exceptional and deep meanings only to the enquiring and trained mind. Not for the faint-hearted. I promise you.




Just when you think you've seen it all, another slaps you in the face! Take this for instance. LEAP BEFORE YOU LOOK. Here I was all my life thinking we should Look first, then we LEAP. But this taxi driver thinks otherwise. A very new and outlandish approach to success in life is to first take a LEAP and while you're in between the brief moments of suspense and the hard concrete (or sharpened spikes, depending on your situation), you LOOK down and see how fast you're falling. Maybe next time you won't LEAP as fast or as hard. Forget about it all, throw caution to the wind and just take a LEAP of faith. Maybe you might live to tell the story...or maybe not.

The Street Shrink is on the prowl and will be back another day with a little something for everyone...

Sermon in the Street

Imagine you get a telegram (or in this day of technology, an email) with the words emboldened, highlighted and underlined LET THEM SAY. How would you react? As mind baffling as it is, we see these things so often on our streets that they have become commonplace and no. Here’s how I see it: If you’re ever in need of inspiration, when life puts you down, when you think there’s no hope left for you to go on, when everything that could ever go wrong in your life goes wrong all at once, well I come bearing good news.... Next time you’re in traffic, just read there is to read all around you; writings on trotros, taxis, kiosks and you’ll see all your troubles disappear. Well …… not exactly.
Seriously, have you ever taken the time to look around and see all the elements that are at play. Besides drivers over-speeding, others under-speeding, projectiles of spit from windows, cars developing problems right in the middle of traffic, jaywalkers zigzagging across the road, beggars trying to sweet talk you, thieves laying in ambush, etc, you will see a doze, perhaps more, of yellow-writing-coded morale-boosting. With all these proverbial statements written all around us, it’s a miracle any of us ever feel down.
Picture this, a trotro crosses you, and behind it, is says “NO RUSH IN LIFE,” "ABOTRE" or even “PATIENCE”. Nothing quite gets to you as bad.
Still, some leave you feeling rather baffled. Take for instance “GOOD NEVER LOST”. It’s taken me almost a year now and I can’t tell what that truly means. Are they saying, “good people don’t lose their way”. Or is it that “good people don’t die”? Perhaps they mean, “good deeds are never forgotten.”
I’ve come to the conclusion that you can preach an entire sermon while driving from one end of the street to the other. You even have Bible quotes to go along. Just in case you need confirmation.
At one time, a trotro said on its rear window “PRAY TO GOD” and right afterwards, another whizzed past saying “AMEN”. Alternatively, you can find writings on vehicles that support your present state of being. Take for example “IT’S NOT EASY, BUT FOCUS,” this could represent a past emotional down of the car owner, and hence seeks to encourage his ‘brother man’ on the street. Another one I saw that just blew me over was, “You, next time”. Possibly, they had it in with someone and deemed it fit to let out his emotion out in a more public way.
One time I went pass a car crash wreck and it said “IT COULD BE YOU”. Almost immediately, I held back any prejudice I had in my mind.
However, religious quotes take up the bigger chunk of all the writings. “Still ADOM,” “KRON KRON” (Holy Holy), SHOWERS OF BLESSING, BY HIS GRACE, HOSSANA, KRISTO NTI (For Christ’s sake), ASEDA SEWO (You deserve the praise), YEHOWA ADOM (God’s grace), PSALM 35 POSITION IS NOT HEAVEN, “NO POSITION IS PERMANENT”, "REPENT", “HEAVEN GATE, NO BRIBE”, and "BY HIS GRACE".
These phrases run the gamut from Genesis to Revelations. Some as I said make absolutely no sense; either because some of the writings have been wiped off from excessive washing or the rain and shine have weathered them away. Consider "HIRO MAJOR", "ROAD TO SUCCESS", "FULL OF POTHOLES" (probably referring to the road’s condition) and "STILL PLAY FOR LIFE".

to be contd...

Shrink in Distress

You all know this all too familiar feeling of self-condemnation. One voice tells you to go with choice ‘A’, another tells you not to. You battle with which voice to listen to. Then you make an unsound choice of voice and end up feeling foolish?
Well, just now, I’ve had to retype 300 words for this blog entry. I didn’t save and “the operation quit unexpectedly. Would you like to report this to Microsoft…?” uhhhh…no?

But before I head on, accept my apologies for not being frequent enough with my updates. These words don’t always spill forth so easily. Like every work of art, you require inspiration.

Back to business.

Yesterday, my car broke down. We all hate that don’t we? Especially when it happens right in the middle of a major road. This old rickety pick up truck, has served us well. You know those family cars that help out so much they more or less become a part of the family? That’s the kind we have. As with every car after a few hours with the mechanic, a quadrillion other issues develop. Possibly the fault of the mechanic, but he makes it seem as if the car has never been kept well. But we try to keep the car in pristine condition, truly we try.

Anyhow, barely a week ago, the car came back from the repair shop and I squeezed out enough new Ghana notes to pay up for it. It’s a painful experience each time.

I’ll narrate what happened.

I set off to meet a friend at the Accra Mall. This was just at the peak of the rush hour. A mistake in itself. The traffic, the exhaust fumes, the pollution, the crazy driving all in one place. After about 30minutes in the jam I started to notice worrying signs on the car. I prayed to God that I didn’t get stuck in the jam. I’d be the cause of an increased jamming of cars right to the very end of the last taillight. Plus I’ll be at the receiving end of several indistinct car toots. I might even be cussed at.

The signal’s changed colours but my gears wouldn’t change. As though on cue, the honks started. Sweat beads mounted, heart rate increased, tear glands were ready, and the ignition went off.

Under my breath, I whispered a prayer. Promised God the world if He got me out of this fix. It’s a wonder how God takes center stage when things go wrong. I put gear in first position, turned key in ignition and then there’s a jerk forward. I was going nowhere like this. After a few feet, the ignition died again. I didn't even turn my head to the left or right. Eyes fixed on ahead as if by so doing, I’ll magically move the car.

Where was Superman when you need him?

I gave up and the hazard lights come on.

SOS calls began. First to the mechanic. No answer. Next to my brother … MTN – network busy. SOS calls end. Panic begins to mount.

With jerky movement, I managed to move from the traffic light at the Imperial Peking restaurant all the way to the Mall intersection. I succeeded in getting into the median, safe from all attacks I hoped. If there’s anything worse than angry bypass-ers, it is the pity-look they give you. Worse I tell you, worse. I hoped I wouldn't see a friend who obviously would laugh and tease me till kingdom come. In no time, there’ll be a snap shot of me on Facebook with comments from people whom I don’t even know. There goes my street cred.

SOS calls started again. What’s this with the network?!!! I finally got through with my TIGO and a saviour came through. It’s the friend I’m meeting. God is good. I sit there for what seemed like 24hours and I hear the good inner voice speak. Try it again. Who knows it just might start. And start it did! With my hazard lights still on, I crawled on the shoulder of the road into the parking lot of the Mall. Safe. Sweet Jesus thank you.

After a few moments of wait, along came my friend with a mechanic named Prosper. I’m not quite sure what Prosper did. In fact I doubt he did anything major, yet he charges me a clean ¢3 for lying under the hood and stepping on the clutch a couple of times. I give him ¢2 and send him off.

One word for this experience - TRAUMATIZING. But at least I’m alive to tell the story.

Now just in case you’re asking yourself what the moral of the story is, let me tell you right this moment that there is NONE. I just might need me a shrink to talk things through, that's all.

Brother's Keeper

I officially name myself the Street Shrink. It might sound a bit weird to most of you. But take a good look at all that goes on in the streets. You can't tell me that it isn't a window into ourselves as a people. As opaque a window as it might be, a window still.
Read on.


I agree, we have our issues as Ghanaians. We have problems with our indiscipline, our greed, and most of the time our sentence construction and grammar. Granted. It's certainly difficult to overlook all the warts, but let's not throw out the baby with the bath water. We have to take a deeper look into our humanity. Let's dive a little deeper into the real Ghanaian. The changes in governments and economy and the demand for a better richer life is eating into our lives just as it is for that of many other countries all across the world. The moral fabric of society has become a cloth with which we try to wipe away our vices. Still and all, there's a lot to be grateful for. Again this Street Shrink was in traffic, just minutes ago at the traffic signal from the Aviation Social Center into Cantonments (those of you familiar with Accra will know exactly what I'm talking about), we have these physically challenged guys who are immobile leg down. They beg along the roadside, like most beggars do.

As we stop waiting for the light to hit green so I can speed off home, thinking back on how my week has gone, etc etc etc. Ever notice these guys who as a substitute for feet have wheels and wear flip flops on their hands weave through the cars as deftly as one could imagine. Well, one of them wheels up to me and asks for money. Now, I try as much as possible to be polite. Yes they are a bit worrisome, still.
Anyways, I'm in the passenger seat, sitting The Thinker style (also known as the Thinking Man) . I'm usually very pensive in traffic. My mind was chewing on some thought so hard that it's as though my next intake of oxygen was dependent on that. This guy crawls up to my door, looks up and says 'Madam, won kye me kakra?' (Madam, won't you give me something little?). Tearing away from my thoughts, I turn to look at him and say 'Ene de enye, next time wae?' (Today, things aren't so good).

Honestly, I'm not sure what expression I was wearing on my face, but the guys turns away for 2 seconds and turns back to look at me saying, 'E-go be eh?' (It'll be well) Come again, I didn't quite catch that. And he repeats himself with a more affectionate tone "E-go be eh?". What else do I have to say than to nod my head in agreement and thank him for his goodwill message. As we move on in traffic, I almost feel sad for myself. Not that there's anything wrong with him telling me that. It's just the idea that in as much as I think of myself in a better position than him or he thinking that I'm his last chance for a meal that evening, he felt he was in a position to give me encouragement. Think about the courage and nobility it takes for someone in his position like that to tell me that. He might never drive a Bentley or a Lexus. Heck, he'll never drive at all. I doubt I might even remember how he looks to give him a little something next time I'm round that way.

But if what he said doesn't sound a noble bell in you, I'm not sure what else will. This gesture as minute and seemingly fickle as it may sound made me realize that there's still a little human left in us. Let's forget about politics for a second, let's each forget about the deal you couldn't seal for a minute, let's put off hate, greed and envy for a day or two and let's open our eyes to see the beauty that lies beneath it all. Fundamentally, all we wanna do is to survive. To have some meat to take home to our families. Why must we chain each other to the wall in order to do that? Why can't we just be our brother's keeper, not seeing the other any lesser than they are? Why? Why ever not?