sacred.favourites




You know that feeling that you feel when you don't like the feeling you are feeling? Maybe you don’t. But I felt that feeling this morning as I drove from home to work. Some of you might know Dewland fruit juices. They are one of my favourites and most treasured natural juices, after Blue Skies of course.


Therefore, you can easily imagine my horror when I saw it being peddled on the street like common food! Inside me, I wanted to cry. But my outer man kept it bottled in.

I consider cheap, things sold on the street, therefore I most certainly do not appreciate it when my most cherished and highly favoured fruit drink is “commonized” into streetware! I take offense, immediately! They did the same to grapes. I mean I love grapes, truly, I do. But not when it is counted, bagged and sold for me along the street like "ebro ena nkate". They are grapes and by all means should be treated as royalty. Maybe I'm fussing unnecessarily over this, but if you were part of the ancestry of the kingdom of grapes, you will not encourage defaming your legacy by calling you "glips" (I italicized the ‘p’ because it is barely enunciated). This woeful pronunciation of my wonder fruit emanated from the mouthpiece of a hawker. Grapes, if I recall correctly from Greek myths, were served to kings on silver platters. Ask anyone who’s watched any of those movies.

Newspapers I don't mind; apples I've gotten used to but my Dewland, oh my Dewland. This can't be how it ends. These sales & marketing guys have gotto come up with more imaginative ways of selling their products.

all.the.things.i.couldn’t.be.

Usually when you think about life, you think of all the things that you could be and could do when you’re older or when you get the chance. But I bet you never think of all the things you couldn’t do and be happy about the fact that you could never do or be those things. I have.

See this, I could never be a monk. In fact I will never be a monk. Shave my head in the middle and leave the other sides to grow? Forget about all the “never say never” nonsense. Sometimes never, is never. I could never fly. Never. Technology could advance in as many directions as it could, but a flying man (or woman in my case)…never.

Second. I could never be a rock star. I can’t play the piano, or the guitar, let alone sing. Plus I would have to wear weird clothing and scream at a screaming audience to see who screams loudest. Above all, I live in Ghana. Our music genres run a very short gamut: from highlife to hiplife. No classical, no bluegrass and no rock.

Three. I could never be a hairdresser. I have locks for crying out loud and if that’s not a huge sign that says “you can’t dress your own hair let alone that of others”, I’m not sure what that is.

Four. I could never be an astronaut. This would require me to do multiple complex mathematical computations that would take weeks and months and decades to complete. Yes, perhaps my engineering background may make it seem possible. But I promise you, an astronaut, I could never be. The most I could do is to take a trip to the moon or anywhere in outer space where humans can land. But be an astronaut and actually make sure the space shuttle functions as it should? Hardly.




Five. I could never be an alien with antennae for eyes and 3 fingers on one hand instead of the 5 fingers God in His boundless wisdom gave me. That is a definite NEVER!

Six. A size zero model in 9 inch nails. That I could never ever ever ever be. My DNA disallows it. I could starve for 300 days successively and perhaps shed 2 pounds tops. My bone structure disapproves of it and that makes it a positive and affirmative no. A size zero model ranks highest on the NEVER TO BE list.




But this is a good thing. There are so many things I could never be. Think of it this way. I could never be a goat, an automobile, a beaker, a television set, a box of tomatoes or a carton of milk. I don’t know about you, but this makes me glad and reminds me of who I am and what I can be in a sort of twisted way that makes sense to my warped imagination.

So whenever you are tempted to think about all the things you could do and be in this lifetime, think about all the other things you couldn’t and will never ever ever do or be in this lifetime of yours. Focusing on what you can’t do will simply make you realize all the wonderful things you are not. And maybe that’ll make you feel a lot better about yourself. Maybe.

Here’s where I start sounding wise.

Sometimes it’s not what you want out of life it is what life wants out of you. It is not what you expect out of life but what life expects you to do. It is not what you look out for in life, but what life sees in you. We may think we have a choice, for all one knows, we are the ones being chosen. And all the introspection, daydreaming and brooding that goes on in our heads is just a conspiracy of the universe and circumstances to get us to do what we really need to do in this lifetime. Cos no matter how we see it, there is a higher power that designs and lays out our patterns for us. If we didn’t choose how we came, from whom we came and how we look, what makes us so sure that we are in full control the whole time? It may seem that way, but we need to realize that occurrences and happenings around us twist our arms into making decisions and forming opinions that we wouldn’t have formed had we not been in those type of situations.

Some might consider this a travesty in comparison to all the feel good and do good speeches we are so used to hearing. Maybe all the challenges we face in life are as a result of us not listening to the winds of life and what message they carry in their whistling. If we were simply to conform and go along with what our inside man dictates, no matter how crazy it may sound, maybe life would sing a different tune. But we are so adamant about being our own person and making choices and defining our lives to the letter that we miss out on many good things in life.

Perhaps we should just focus on living. Letting Life choose for us. Let’s face it, Life has been here way longer than any of us right here at this moment. And It could teach us a thing or two. Although we try to go at it differently. Simply put, life was here before us and if the values of my culture are anything to go by, we need to give respect to those older than us.

Instead of carving our way through the mountain, how about we just hike around it and enjoy the view from whichever rock we step on. At the foot of the mountain where the grass grows green and life seems somewhat stable; or in the middle where we can experience a little bit of both worlds; and at the very peak where the breeze blows freedom and a sense of serenity and accomplishment. Whatever stage there is in life, wherever we find ourselves, whatever situation we’re in, let’s not think of what could have been or how we should have or could have, those are many. But what is, is one and that’s the present. That’s who we are and that’s where we’ve come. Nothing wrong, nothing wasted, nothing left behind. It’s nothing. It’s just us. Who we are.

raining rain

it rains. the rain it rains
rain drop on raindrop
drop after drop it rains
rain by rain; grain by grain
grain with rain; rain unto grain
unto grain it rains

rains into puddles
puddles into drains
drains into streams
streaming down the grains
with rains into rivers
rivers from streams drains into rivers
sea of grain and rain. sea.
sea into sea into ocean

ray by ray, the sun, its rays
ray reaches out to the sea
a sea of rays. it evaporates
evaporates into the atmosphere
again and again, until it rains
rains again. unto the grains it rains
may there always be rain,

Writing.Barricades.Away.Dot.Com

Since the beginning of this year, I’ve been unable to update my blog. This sad incident could be chalked up to what the experts call the Writer’s Block. For me it’s been more of a barricade than a block! Perhaps it was because I realized that I was maturing as a writer (ahem!) and as such every word that was bold enough to spew itself forth from my imaginative brain had to be perfect. Well, I’m happy to have you know that notion was absolutely false!

As a self-proclaimed writer, I guess it was painful for me to accept the fact that I can and immensely so, do write crap! My inner critic battered me black and blue with all the “do nots” of the writing world. And for a moment in time (make that several moments in time), my brain refused to think (in terms of writing, that is).
Sometimes as I drove through town I would see something, and unconsciously, my mind would string a line or two together, but when I sat down behind my computer, faced the new blank page I created in Word, the crap alert siren sounded loudly in my head and that ended it. The ‘vim’ was gone!

I even decided it was because I hadn’t actually put real pen to paper in a while. So I started to write in good old ink on paper. That didn’t help in any way. I was beginning to think that maybe I wasn’t that good a writer as I presumed. And my super powers has a writer had been obliterated by some invisible ray from outer space. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.

But now, after careful research … i.e. sitting behind my laptop, lost in my musings, I decided to simply write crap! Not only that, I decided to share some of my quarter-baked stories with you so you all can tell me how crappy they are. I promise not to be offended. Be at liberty to lash out at me any way you can. It might just all the inspiration I need. So go on, give it your best shot. In fact, I’ve decided to dedicate this entire blog to crappy writings. Oh by the way, if you have any poppycock writings that you are afraid will see the light of day, forward them to me. Right here on this blog, they are very welcome.










There you have it. I don’t know why I’m doing this. One day I might regret this…or maybe not. Either which way I would be glad that I finally made a move to move this barricade out of my way. Comments, comments, comments please!

About this blog



rebelryterwrites is about nothing and everything.

The rebelryter writes because the rebelryter thinks.
The rebelryter writes because the rebelryter sees.
The rebelryter writes because the rebelryter thinks the rebelryter sees and therefore the rebelryter writes.

So welcome to the wonderful world of the rebelryter as I write out my brains ... through the heart of my pen ...