THE THOUGHTS ROOM

It was the day after Ghana's general election and the country waited keenly for the election results which was expected to be announced 24 hours after polls closed. Being a journalist, and having taken part in two general elections, I was glad that probably for the first time, my colleagues and I would not have to spend days waiting at polling centres, monitoring TV and radio as we awaited the Electoral Commission Chair to announce the winner for the 2020 elections. Well, our expectations were cut short when the 24-hour deadline set by the EC Chair elapsed. "Not again," I said to myself. I hadn't planned to sleep in the office this year so I went to work on December 7 in my jeans trousers, sneakers, a branded t-shirt, with no toothbrush or face towel to clean myself should need be. I had no option. I had to sleep in the office while the results from some polling stations trickled in. It looked like a long 24 hours with no end in sight. As I waited, all I did was d

Will your anchor hold in the storms of life, when the clouds unfold their wings of strife? When the strong tides lift, and the cables strain, will your anchor drift or firm remain? We have an anchor that keeps the soul; steadfast and sure while the billows roll, fastened to the Rock which cannot move, grounded firm and deep in the Saviour’s love. I have sang this hymn a countless times but yesterday, I got a clearer meaning of the words of this hymn. Yesterday was one of my gloomy days. I felt as though the world was crashing down on me and for the first time I woke up from bed with a sense of loss and didn't feel the urge to go to church. It was so obvious from the look on my face that all was not well with me although I was physically fit. My parents walked into my room; obviously worried because I went to bed very early the previous night and that was unlike me. They tried to get me out of my bed and encouraged me to go to church. One thing my mum told me which

It was almost 10 pm when I heard my phone ring. I had retired to bed very early that night. A lot had happened in the week and I just needed some good night sleep. Who could it be? I wondered. After all, the only person who would call at such an hour was not on too good a terms with me. Surprisingly, it was him. In a husky voice I answered the phone and listened to him. The previous day, he had dropped me off at home and we had planned how we wanted to spend the weekend. It was my birthday that weekend. Being the good cook that he was, he offered to make me lunch. We had been planning that weekend for almost two months; from wanting to travel out of the city to having a party with some few friends. Plans kept changing because in the course of two weeks, we were at each other’s throat and we didn’t even know why we were fighting. I loved the idea of a lunch date at his place. It would be the perfect atmosphere for us to iron out issues and put our differences to rest a

Araba had called him about four times that evening but Zack did not answer. He had told her earlier in the afternoon that his shift at the hospital would end by 4pm and that he would go straight home afterwards. It was past 6pm and she hadn’t heard from him and he hadn’t returned her calls. She got home that night and after taking a shower she called him again. Still no answer. He couldn’t be asleep this early. It was unlike him. Even if he were with his friends he would send her a message but he hadn’t done that. She was getting worried. Could anything have happened to him? She didn’t know who to call. She decided to call again. The phone rang and finally there was an answer at the other end of the line. “Hello,” a voice said but it wasn’t the voice she anticipated. She quickly hang up to check if she had called the wrong number. But it wasn’t. The voice at the other end was feminine. Could it be a nurse at the hospital? She asked herself. She called again and it was the

The date was at Araba’s house. She cooked dinner and waited for Zack to arrive. He was always on time but for this occasion. Had he forgotten? She thought to herself. She reached for her phone and immediately her gate swung open. It was Zack. He was carrying a huge bouquet of flowers. “Happy birthday Araba,” he said and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Thanks Zack,” she smiled taking the flowers. She led him to the dinner table and after the meal they relaxed in the sofa to watch a movie. Araba lay her head on his shoulders and he wrapped his arms around her. She felt safe. She felt loved and most importantly, she was happy. She was almost dozing off when Zack tapped her on the shoulder and told her he had something very important to tell her. “I don’t know how to tell you this Araba. I don’t know how you are going to take it,” he said. “What is it Zack? You are scaring me now.” He reached out to his pocket and sat straight staring into her eyes. Araba was anxious

The evening was splendid and Zack left a lasting impression on Araba. They had a lot to talk about; from school to work, church and how odd it was for both of them to agree on a blind date and Araba wished time would freeze; forgetting she lived two hours away from The Grill and that she had work the following day. Zack was a medical doctor. He was born in the country but had lived almost all his life in the United States of America. He had only returned to the country after his almost three year relationship with Emelia had ended. Emelia was also in the USA so he thought it a rather good idea to relocate to Ghana, find a job and concentrate on just that. The idea of dating was not part of his plan. He just wanted a different environment. He had been in the country for close to a year and had reconnected with some friends from childhood; one being Joyce’s husband, Michael and that was the only reason he was part of the bridal party. He had no idea he was going to meet Arab

I met this guy a few years back. Like two years ago? I’m not so sure. He meant the world to me. He was nothing like I’d ever seen before. We would have long winding, unending chats. He would tell me of his escapades whilst growing up. He was nothing like what he had been through. He made me laugh even at the most annoying thing. He would say “a couple that farts together, lives together” and although that sounded whacky, it ceased to be when he actually farted in my face. How did we meet? On Facebook! Yes, on Facebook. I had heard of tales of people starting a harmless chat on Facebook and actually getting along after the first “date”. I had no anticipations of romance though. All I wanted was his friendship. But it moved fast from that. Soon, we started spending time together. Soon, he started telling me tales of his failed relationships and all too soon, a simple “Hi” turned into an “I love you.” I was shocked. Well, not really. I had fallen in love with him to