Tuesday, 1 December 2009

Yeeye Aka Akwantuo Mu - Worries of a Diasporan Brother

Yeeye Aka Akwantuo Mu – Worries of a Diasporan Brother
My wife was cutting my hair the other day. Yeah my wife cuts my hair. You have a problem with that? I mean, what is the point in going to sit for precious hours at one of the two Caribbean barber shops in Leicester on a Saturday, just to have a haircut? And, let’s face it, they don’t come cheap either. It used to be eight solid pounds every two weeks for me and five pounds each for my two boys. So my wife bought a kind of barber’s machine and started experimenting with my kids. I watched from afar with interest, and as soon as the pot holes had begun reducing considerably on my boys’ heads, I playfully offered myself for more advanced experiments, and there has been no turning back.
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So, as I was saying before you ever so rudely interrupted, she was cutting my hair the other day, and she called out to me;

“Asuo!” she said

“Yee!” I said

“You are loosing all the hair on the top of your head”

“Ok” I said, not in the least interested. I’m loosing my hair and so what? People are loosing their heads, never mind their hair, in this damn stressful country we have opted to live in.
She paused momentarily and then continued;

“So what’s happening to the building project at home?”

“Ahaaaaaa!” Now I understood.

You see, my wife is an Asante and I am a Fante. So, dare I say, our priorities are slightly different. On Saturday mornings when we are both at home, she will often sit quietly and watch me as I enthusiastically toast my bread, preferring it a bit more brown and crispy, add a slice of cheese and then a blueberry muffin with a cup of Twinning’s Classic English Breakfast Traditional Tasting Tea. She would shake her head sadly and say:

“Wo, w’aka akwantuo mu!”

When I had had enough of her nagging, I would often break into song, my favourite being one by Shane McGowan of the Pogues:

Last night as I slept
I dreamt I met with Bohan
I shook him by the hand as we passed the break of day
I questioned him on his views
On the crux of life’s philosophies
He had but these few, and simple words to say
He said
I am going, I am going
Any which way the wind might be blowing
I am going, I am going
Where streams of whisky are flowing

In other words;

“Osofo gye w’ahom. Daa yenom!”

Have a nice weekend my fellow Ghanaians.

Papa Appiah

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