THE CRAZY SQUAD 

TALES FROM 2065 – Episode Three


2065. sounds like sometime in the future. I can imagine a science fiction writer bleeding mind-raping stories and obscenities on a blanc sheet centering on the figure. 2065 could mean a lot of different things to many people – say an accountant, a painter or even a preacher. But to us, 2065 meant something different altogether. 

The number served as an intersection point in the lives of four strangers who quickly became friends. Somewhere late 2012, four strangers from different parts of the country gained admission into the University of Ghana. As fate would have it, these four strangers were assigned to one room in Hilla Limann Hall. This room was d2065. And this is where a lot of history was made. Not before long, 2065 birthed a budding musician, a journalist, a man with a love for numbers and a lover of Creative arts. The diversity and closeness between the roommates of 2065 created a welcoming avenue for a lot of meetings to take place. Several group meetings were held in 2065. And this birthed the CRAZY SQUAD. 

The Crazy Squad was a study group initially made up of four ladies – Ophelia, Nirva, Robin, Freda – and the five Bouncing Baby Boys – Felix, Brian, Kobla, Erik and Roland (I hope you still remember them). Let me quickly add that the Crazy Squad is solely responsible for setting the five male friends in a journey that will see them being bounced over and over and over again. 

Ophelia was a classic beauty.an adorable goddess that we all took a liking to in just some few meetings.  But she was out of bounds to us all. She was married to God. (How can you compete with that?) Robin – another beauty of course – had a solid crush on Kobla who was playing hard to get and overdid it. Robin soon got over his dumb ass and by extension all the rest of us. Shame on you Kobla.

The cute and sexy Freda announced majestically on our first day of meeting that she was seriously engaged. She warned all of us horny toads to back off. And then there was Nirva. Among all the handsome guys in the University of Ghana, she decided to give her heart out to some dude outside the university community. Roland and Erik, as usual, tried several times to woo her but they were bounced like basket balls. We could leave 2065 in Hilla Limann Hall all walk all the way to the Red Sea of the university and back just to escort Freda and Ophelia to their residence in Volta Hall. We were all a crazy bunch of idiots. It’s no wonder our group was called the Crazy Squad.

After a semester, our messed up love lives brought too much tension in the group and the group fell apart. The Crazy Squad was no more. Kobla later dropped English to pursue Political science and Accounting. Freda and Ophelia were never close to us again. We barely saw one another after that throughout our years in the university. Brian and Roland took solace in the bottle. Erik pursued his political ambitions and I focused more on creative arts.

Two years later, there was the need to create another study group. The pressure from our final years in the university was beginning to get to us. Learning was becoming difficult and the courses were becoming meaner by the semester. So the Crazy Squad was resurrected, but not with most of the previous members. Only I – Felix – and Erik were old members of this new squad. We were however joined by two ladies who had just returned from a year in the City of Art. Margaret and Akyere would open our eyes to a new form of reality we didn’t know existed. We were also joined by the astonishing Paula and the god of English – Franklyn. Final members were Asabea and Ivana. Unlike the previous squad, this group complemented each other; perfecting every member in areas where they were deficient. 

The ladies of this group not only mesmerized us with their beauty, like the previous group, they also pushed us to learn more. And this had a positive outcome on our GPA’s. their beauty had direction in our lives. Franklyn – the English god – was our muse. He doesn’t know this but I envied him a little. I mean how could a person be so good in a language that gave most of us sleepless nights and haunted our dreams if we did get the chance to sleep. He had a way of sweet talking you into understanding the language. I don’t know about the rest of the group, but Franklyn would forever have my gratitude for always responding to our calls for help even when it does not favor him. Remember him. You will meet him again before this series is over. 

I believe myself to be very perceptive. And my impression of people is usually right. But I could be more wrong about Paula. Before I really got to know Paula, I believed she was one of the ‘boss chicks’ on campus who were snobbish and disrespectful and had many lovers and were lazy and were full with so much pride and arrogance. She appeared to be the kind that would toy with the hearts of boys and spend all their money and later dump them for another guy. In my mind she was one of those girls. But I couldn’t be more wrong. When she joined the Crazy Squad, I got to know that I wasn’t only wrong about her, I was also wrong for trusting my perception so much. Paula was humble and kind and honest and every good quality an average young lady could possess…..
Education brought us in close proximity

But my personality drew us apart

I thought the worse of you; and ignored you like a plague

‘Judge not a book by its cover,’ was what Uncle said to me

But my eyes saw something and my mind recorded it as negative

And that drew us further apart
Education brought us together a second time 

and you melted away some of my beliefs

That wax of impressions had no chance against you

Again, my stubbornness held on tight to schemas of old and refused to let go
As fate will have it, education brought us together one last time

And then you opened my eyes and made me see the light
Today, I stand guilty by the very thing my eyes saw

Ashamed of the negativity within my core

I am glad I was wrong

For what I believed was fact was so far from truth
You have served me a calabash of positivity

Now I can rid myself of all negativity
You said it Uncle

I need not judge a book by the impression I get from its cover

Thank you

Friend. Ally. Mate.

Ivana was humble and a little shy. She and Asabea were very private people and my own awkward personality didn’t allow me to get to know them better. This, I am highly ashamed of. But they however were close to the rest of the members of the Crazy Squad. Their tales are mingled with that of the other members. You will see them several times as the series progresses. 

As for Margaret and Akyere, you will see them in subsequent episodes. Do not forget these names; for they are major characters in the experiences of this introvert who poses as an extrovert in a community of diverse personalities.

Picture source: http://www.google.com/m?q=crazy+squad&client=ms-opera-mobile&channel=new&espv=1#imgrc=bdYrKYr_SZiEmM:

​LIFELESS STORYTELLERS

This is a piece of writing in response to Poetra Asantewa’s “Coroner”

(A Response to Poetra Asantewa’s “Coroner”)

Death beckons on us all at the climax of purposely arranged circumstances

Whiles Life sits idly by and mocks our struggle against fate

I have investigated by inquest hundreds of deaths not due to natural causes

Some sad. Some pitiful

Some occurring with a bang –

and some of them so pitiful, you can’t help but give in to laughter

I spend all my days hiding from the commotions of the living

I prefer to hang around the silent corpses and dead essences of once promising humans

The stories these lifeless bodies tell are so full of life, its poetry.

Yesterday, the body lying on my table told so good a story, I broke out in tears

The seeming delicacy had within its splitted hollows an artistically woven autobiography of a life lived in solitude, love and music. 

The dimensions of her story branched out in colorful embers of vicious membranes laced with tunes from a flute of African descent

Others have told tales of heartbreaks and migraines and depression smothered by injustice and tribulation that the mind can’t begin to imagine

They told stories of young humans getting caught in a web of pointless affairs and insignificant hurts of yore.

They spoke of modern butterflies plagued with curses of ancient moths and whispers of the dead.

These lifeless storytellers all have their stories spiraling in an abyss of guilt, regret, torture, shame and a lot of unanswered questions; except my dearest Afreh 

My favorite storyteller – Afreh nuamah – narrated her tale in acoustic tunes of contentment

She had a steady stream of happiness in her life story

This, she acquired through defying society and chasing after her own happiness

She sung tales of gigglish love affairs and tickling streams of pleasure ……
Dear voice seeking answers, you define your own storyline in your own handwriting

And even I, your coroner, cannot tell you your story

I can only read them within the splitted catacombs of your lifeless body.
Image source: https://goo.gl/images/Qh7sa5