So these were to be the instruments of her torture. Six inch cloth strips. A flat wooden spatula. A bubbling pot of molten wax – all waiting to do the bidding of the grim faced Jamaican …
Blog Posts
I never came with you So I’m gonna go You never waved in the way you moved even when I showed you how to sway your waist your hands were upset that I asked for fast …
The entrance to the Amakom Children’s Park was a sad sight. The fence surrounding it had long fallen into disrepair, the ground was overrun with weeds and what were certainly once splendid shelters were reduced …
The sound of the key card entering the door woke Marissa from her light sleep. She had only laid back down moments before after ushering her girlfriend off to the airport for her 10 am flight. …
Agyaakoo, one of our guest contributors sent me this image he took somewhere in Accra, Ghana. It gave me a good laugh, and I thought I would share it with you all. Malaka you see, the …
Two months. It had been two months since Pomaa had taken on three of Uncle Ekow’s projects and seen them to completion. Pomaa still had not been paid for her labor. That was the funny thing …
Our next hangout takes place this Friday, 14th February at 17:00 GMT. The topic to be discussed is the metamorphosis or evolution – if you will – of love or its perception from the African woman’s …
My boyfriend is a very giving and attentive lover. He uses sex to express things that he sometimes has trouble saying out loud. Like before he told me he was falling in love with me his …
Nhyiaeso is a suburb of Kumasi, and there are five women who have – and always will – run it. Auntie Dina was a reformed go-go dancer who had found Christ in 1979. That was the …
The drive to Kumasi from Accra should have only taken four hours. It took Pomaa and Frema six. This is what happened every time Frema “fell in love”. She literally wanted to stop and smell life’s …