Patience – Don’t we all need it!

As the sun shone with its consistent intensity, his bald head’s temperature increased appreciably as sweat trickled down to lubricate and release heat by convection on that same head. His handkerchief, soaked from the intermittent application on his bright glowing middle head, seem not to offer better drying of that naturally excavated portion – but isn’t that a good thing?

It is Monday, and Kwaku already has had enough of the week. He laid exhausted in fatigue with his oversized suit making him seem to carry some big ‘post’ than he has got – but he is by no means a small man from where he hails, his home, a father of seven children with enough problems.

He indeed looked beaten as he rested his back against the office chair, but this could only be noticed if you look deep into his soul. For his smile, his coveted signature, has covered this inner pain.

But his day was just about appreciating the brightness of the sun, when came in his boss, ranting and furiously blaming him for a task he has supposedly not completed. The insults where enough to put him on centre stage as all eyes thronged at him.

“…Why are you so irresponsible Kwaku!” said his boss. “I have given you a simple task to speak to our investors and for a fortnight you still haven’t gotten me an update. I also asked that you provide our clients with the new engagement policy and I do not know what you have done with it. You are clearly incompetent and lazy! I wonder how you have come this far in life!”

And that was what made Kwaku lose it. Yhup, he lost it! Not his senses, but his temper to not being cool.


To the chagrin of all poking eyes, Kwaku’s response made their mouths all drop with ‘wow’ when he was done speaking to his boss.

Kwaku’s reply was simple. First, he paused to think of his reaction. Then he smiled to himself as always. He later applied the opposite of his boss’s temper, and replied him with the best of coolness imaginable.

He began, remorsefully, “Sir, I am very sorry for my gross incompetence and lazy attitude. I am still learning to be better each day as I try to meet expectations each day. A fortnight ago when you asked that I speak to our investors and request for more funds, I did so and sent you an email on the amount that we managed to secure. Also with our clients, I was able to send them the policy update as well on that very day as I did that of the investors. I also sent an email once it was done to you. Not only did I send an email, but I also provided a printed document on your desk for your notice. I apologise that you haven’t seen all these.”

Kwaku’s boss was numbed and words stacked in his throat. But all were surprised with the impressed with the cool with which Kwaku responded after which he smiled as he sat back in his desk.

The point is, people go through enough problems each day and may have all the reasons on earth to reply us in the worst of actions. However, it is nice to be nice, isn’t it?

My name is Kotey and sometimes, some patience will explain everything.

Good day.



The Same Coin

A story is told of a baker who once was the best in his entire town. The smell of his bread, could travel far along the nooks and crannies of paths trekked by travellers. It was believed, at the time, that, the smell of his bread could satisfy any hunger and bring satisfaction. It was for this reason, that many a person stood outside their front yard to only inhale sweet-smelling air of baked flour ‘stoked’ with yeast.

But one day, the man from whom this baker bought his flour for dough came to town. He had heard of this magical bread but had not a clue it was his long and faithful customer who did such worked the magic.

But to his chagrin, the cost for a pound of flour did not match up with that of the bread. One must buy more bread at more cost to attain at a pound.

On his return, he decided that for the same cost of bread, he will measure the same weight of flour for this baker. However, the baker, having trusted his supplier for long, bothered not to check for the weight of flour he had been supplied with.

After a few days, he realised that his stock of flour had incredulously ran out. He had not the explanation so decided to travel, again, with his donkey to his supplier who was three towns away. After raising all the legitimate points to make him have a good case, his supplier replied, “I give to you the same cost of bread as you would a buyer. Why must you complain bitterly, as though I have cheated you, when all I did, was to measure yours against mine?”

The point of this piece is simple: If you are to be paid in the same coin of how you treat other people and their possessions, how would you feel? However, have in mind that, feeling good because of an act is subjective, but acting right irrespective of the feeling is actually the best ‘feeling’.

My name is Kotey.

Good morning.

Still I Rise

Today, I share a poem from on e of my favourite poetess, Maya Angelou,  that talks about rising from various predicament that people go through. It admonishes us to rise no matter how hopeless the situation we find ourselves.

May she continue to rest in peace.

Enjoy, as you keep on rising, with hope that never gets dampened.

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
’Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.