Dear Senior Opupulepu,
I hope you and your family are all do fine. As for me and mine, I am not too sure whether we are do fine, with Kobby Nanti still perching among us.
Senior, I know you did not go to dada ba skuul, and you did not even go to skuul under trees, you attended skuul inside cassava farm. And unfortunately, none of your children attended abrofo skuul. But a few of your grandchildren had that privilege, so I want you to do yourself the honour and ask them about this song whose lyrics I present to you below.
Senior, it goes like this: “Dough, the ingredient for my banku; Ray a name for a guy man; Me, the Akan man says it is me; Fa, the same man says I should take; Sow, the way a farmer plants his maize; La, the Ga man says I should sing; Ti, the Akan man says my head; and we go back to use the dough for my banku…”
Senior, this is a wonderful poem cum song that every child, who attended abrofo skuul can sing upside down, inside out, bottom to top, top to bottom and sideways. To them, it is more popular than our asafo song, “Yahweh, Dress our homeland, Ogyakrom.” And it is this beautiful song that a certain mia-mia kro nurse, as in a nurse only qualified to dress wounds, has decided to pirate and sing with a different lyric for the first line to explain her situation to all of ewiase.
Senior, this nurse heard that the Omanhene had said he was going to lockdown their wages and make cash added on, on the ebro ni nkatie wages they collect. In excitement and rejoicement, this mia-mia kro nurse remembered she was the lead dancer in her hamlet’s dance ensemble. So she started dancing and some spirit-bi entered her inside, and waallaa, her dancing turned into something else, which I am forbidden by the socialist-long-distancing law to describe.
Senior, in fact, I can only briefly say that her baahind was shaking like a tambourine in the hands of a skilful musician. And this dancing with her baahind was recorded and replayed for all to see and admire. But this did not go down well with the immediate present Headmistress of the nurses’ co-operative union. The video remembered her of her “yaw,” as in pain, hurt and disappointment.
Senior, you see the days were when she was she and had men at her finger tips, she could just snap her fingers and all akupas far and near would come dropping at her feet like how ripe mangoes drop down on the ground.
Senior, one day, a certain fine-fine akupa, in fact he fine pass the both combination of you and New-Gin the labourer at that konkonsa table-top house, yes this guy man caught the eyes of all the daughters of Eve, far and near, including our immediate present headmistress of the nurses’ co-operative union.
Senior, she tried and tried and tried for this guy man to just look at her GPS area and smile keke, but nil. It was so until one day when there was inter-co and students were shi-ing jama and dancing to the music, this guy man turned and beheld the eager and waiting face of this our immediate present nurses’ Headmistress then a mere student. He smiled at her and she welcomed it and returned the gesture, but just as she was going to make the first move, because she would not take chances, a certain junior girl with a generous piece of baahind danced in front of our guy man, and using what she had to get what she wanted, our guy man turned to her and was forever lost. Since then, any provocative dancing that they called provocative dancing was out of the syllabus of this our immediate present Headmistress of the nurses’ co-operative union, from her youth age.
Senior, after viewing that mia-mia kro nurse, as in a nurse that can only dress wounds, dancing and shaking her baahind like nobody’s business, it reminded her of the day of her Waterloo, the day victory was snatched from her grips, sorry, her heart. So she determined that come rain, come shine, Kobby Nanti or no Kobby Nanti, she was going to violate the law on stay at home; law on socialist long-distancing and go after this crude dancer of a mia-mia kro nurse.
Senior, she only had the photo of this mia-mia kro nurse’s baahind. But she knew that the CIA and FBI of Doughnut Triumphant Land and the Mossad from the House of Israel are very capable of identifying one’s face by just looking at the baahind. When she is identified, she would be discharged from duty, dismissed from work, and barred for life from holding herself as a nurse, and should never be found mia-miaying anyone’s kro.
Senior, the video played up in the eyes of a certain rich man who has a lot of dough and called Doe, who was desperately in need of a tenth wife or a twenty-fifth concubine. He spied the baahind and declared that even if the owner’s face is not fine, he will not mind the face, but will mind the body. Then he heard of the disaster awaiting this mia-mia kro nurse, as in a nurse that can only dress wounds.
Senior, our rich man quickly put up a publication, that should this mia-mia kro nurse, as in the nurse who can only dress wounds, be caught and dismissed, he, Master Sgt Doe II, will double and pay her full gross salary for one hundred and twenty moons, and pay at a sitting, as at one go.
Senior, the fugitive nurse is in a dilemma. Should she give herself up and be dismissed and receive enough cowries to enter into any lucrative business like selling Graphic? But what if this man is lie-lying, for you cannot trust men these days. Or should she approach the madam of the nurses’ co-operative union and strike a deal that she could dismiss her so that they share the money?
Senior, in the event of this great confusion in her mind, she remembered her primary skuul song and started singing loud and clear: “Doe a Dear, a Feeling Male Dear; Ray, my boy, I just left; Me, I give myself to you; Fa, please come and take me; So, please telling me something; La, I keep singing till you come; Ti, I hope you have you have heard me; And I will also come to you my Doe, Doe, Doe a Dear I am feeling you Dear…” Senior, if this is what goes on in our hospitals, why would they not give you misaba when it is APC you actually need?
Senior, there is another trouble brewing in Anago Alata village. They say recently the people of Chin-Nkwanta village, the village where everybody looks the same but they are not the same, where they seem to have no eyes but they can see, donated fifty witch doctors to the people of Anago Alata village to help contact trace and arrest Kobby Nanti. What I have been hearing and I am not understand, is that these witch doctors, with all their powers, just disappeared into thin air.
Senior, can you these Anago Alata local witch doctors? They are not understand how they who are in their village and watching their businesses go down because of the Hiri-baba-Hiri-baba tongues praying followers of Yesu Christus Emmanuel, and the small left for them to chop too, the Omanhene of the village would invite some strange strangers to come and chop that small thing left for them.
Senior, man-pass man, and in Anago Alata, witchdoctors pass witchdoctors.
For me, I believe only in Yesu Christus, so I am Dan, sorry I am Done.
It’s Me!
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect The Chronicle’s editorial stance
The post Letter to Senior Opupulepu (93): Doe a Dear a Feeling Me Dear and the Lost Witch Doctors appeared first on The Chronicle Online.
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