DZIDZOR

 

I have a story to tell. I must tell my story. My tale is a sad one embellished in the juicy stupidity and ignorance of a young me. It is said that he who laughs last, laughs the best and good things come to those that wait; but it is not always so. I am living proof of that assessment. I am an epitome of a soulless man wandering this earth for the next available force to snatch up and destroy.

There was this girl I admired so much. So much that I would readily make the ultimate sacrifice for her any day and anytime of my sorry existence. From far away, I could tell she admired me too and would readily accept my proposal. But fear and cowardice stood guard over me every second of everyday. They stretched their poisoned swords towards me and cautioned me not to take a step farther. And being an ignorant fool, I thought I had time and that love would surely take me one day into the compounds of Dzidzor, my love.

One might be tempted to be content with the proceedings of my story. Do not be! As this tale is not that of a happy ending. For he who drinks a calabash full of the locally distilled akpeteshie; with a smile on his face is a hypocrite and a liar. A fool like I was, I believed I had time to make myself a befitting gentleman, worthy of asking my Dzidzor’s hand in marriage.

For this, I embarked on a journey to my mother’s village, to find myself a good job so I can make enough money to offer my love the happy life she deserves; one befitting a princess. After six months of hard work, I had made enough to return home to fulfill my ambitions. My mother had died three months after I got to her hometown. I was grieving, but I had the memory of my Dzidzor to give me comfort.

I began my two-week journey back to my father’s village. Fourteen days until I saw Dzidzor again. Fourteen days until I could call her mine. A week into my journey, I saw Dzidzor on a dusty footpath leading to my village. She had a few of her clothes tied up in her favorite wrapper. She told me she was fed up with waiting for me and so she set out on this journey to ask me to come back home, and that she wanted nothing from me; nothing, except my love and devotion. You should have seen my excitement when this news came to me. I was surprised she knew the reason why I had left the village, since I told no one the reason for my journey. But why tempt fate and ruin such a good fortune? We celebrated our love on our way home. We made love. We were happy. We were in love.

When we got to the outskirts of our village, we were greeted by a mighty stench. A smell that was foul enough to drive flies away. But Dzidzor asked me to go pluck a mango fruit she had seen about five hundred meters back. She said she had a sudden craving for one. I happily set out to pluck this fruit for my love. When I returned, Dzidzor was nowhere to be found. I searched for hours and decided to go into the village to look for her. Perhaps I spent too much time plucking the mango. Perhaps she waited for me at home.

The village was empty, buildings were destroyed, the palace was torched, bodies lay everywhere. Apparently, there had been a war shortly after my departure to my mother’s village; and all the townspeople were killed. Women and children were not spared. The head of the chief of our village was on a spike in front of the torched palace.

I quickly ran to Dzidzor’s hut, and there she was, as beautiful as ever. Even in death, her smile consoled me in many ways.

No! She can’t be dead. No! I had been with a ghost this past seven days. No! Death has stolen from me the essence of my very existence. ‘Blewu lorlornye. Baba!’ This is my story; and it’s a sad one indeed.

Kofi Dzogbewu

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TALES FROM 2065 – Episode One

A series of stories about the experiences of a young boy in the University of Ghana. The stories are mostly true with some fictionalized parts for the benefit of the story. Enjoy.

TALES FROM 2065 – Episode One

Africa, for a long time has limited the actions of Africans; especially women. She labels some actions as immoral and some just ‘unworldly’. Sexual liberation in Africa is an unforgivable offense; punishable by vivid obloquy. But in recent times, the hold Africa has on her subjects is weakening drastically and a new breed of Africans are emerging. Ones that believe in liberalism and the choice to do whatever they want to do with their bodies and who they wish to do it with. “customs and traditions be damned; the age of the new Africans is here”. 

It all started some few years back in the university when my friends and I were back to our dormitories after a lecture. The conversation on the way back was centered around the lecturer – Miss Root – and the way she was such a conservative and how were it up to her, Africa would remain in the past whiles the rest of the world leaves us behind. All of a sudden the conversation turned into how these Africans (Miss Root’s kind) have made sex and having sex something only a ‘god’ could do and talk about. One of my friends who claimed she was one of the modern-day feminists (rolls eyeballs repeatedly in their sockets) claimed she didn’t see sex to be anything extraordinary. She made it clear she would have sex or been having sex anytime she wanted. You should have seen the excitement on my face for finding a kindred spirit. 

Sometime, the next day, I was fast asleep in a friend’s room. We were all supposed to go out for a program, but I was too tired to go and just slept. I was alone in the room but left the door unlocked. In the course of my sleeping, I began to hear an annoying sound. Creak-creak-creak. I pushed out he sound and continued sleeping. But the sound was relentless and was bent on making me angry. Creak-creak-creak. 

That was it. I was going to find the source of that sound and give it/him/ her – whoever it was a piece of my mind. I opened my eyes only to see something I never thought I would see. I have never claimed to be innocent or pure. Far from it; because I’m not. I have done things people cannot begin to imagine – bad things, immoral stuff, etc. – but what I saw when I opened my eyes shocked me to the core. A little. I saw a naked lady (naked from head to toe) bouncing up and down an equally naked roommate of my friend who was sitting in a chair. For Christ’s sake, there was a person sleeping in the room. Of all the things I allow my imagination to explore, I never imagined being an audience to people having sex. (Not without a screen separating us; if you know what I mean). It is no wonder why some Christians believe imagining (making your mind explore) is a sin. I had to feign sleep until they were done and out of the room before I could get out of bed and walk solemnly into my room. The next Sunday, I rededicated my life to Christ. God have mercy. 

Another day not too long after my encounter with the sex maniacs, I walked in on another couple doing the ‘dirty’ in bed. It was like the discussion I had with Benedicta on our way to the hall after the lecture had made me available to all sorts of sexual encounters in the university. Like I was saying, i went to visit a friend in her room. I knocked on her door several times but there was no response. I turned the knob on the door and it opened freely. When I entered the room, this lady friend I had gone to visit, was seriously being pounded into by a thick-waisted-rigid-assed-guy I know very well. Both of them were stark naked and so much into what they were doing. My surprise on seeing them kept me glued to where I was standing for several moments. When I finally got a hold on myself, I gently walked out and closed the door. The two ‘sexers’ did not even know anyone had walked in on them. It seems some deeds are too pleasurable it takes everything else around you out of focus. 

I could continue to talk about the couple who did the deed in a room full of sleeping boys, and played Alicia Keys’ “Girl on Fire’ afterwards but I’ll leave that for another day. I don’t want to corrupt the innocent ones among you all in one day. 

My brother once asked me, “Felix, do you have any great memories from University?” My answer was “No”. that was definitely a lie; and now you know why.