Sharing with you a little bit of this and that.

Fiction, some thoughts and more fiction.

If you're a first time visitor, feel free to browse and don't be shy to comment!

Also feel free to contact me on fdramani29@googlemail.com!

Enjoy! x

Friday, 18 February 2011

Welcome Home!

Doors of the aircraft open, and the heat threatens to consume and wrap itself around you like a hot baby chicken roasting in an oven. The night lights flicker from a distance, and the air seems still and heavy, yet sweet and inviting. The smell of the earth and soil is heightened by the temperature, eyes closed, simply relishing.

I take a look back to smile that knowing, deep, insatiable smile of 'we have arrived' at the family that accompanied me along the way, relishing all that is around me before I take a step off the jumbo jet. They who accompany me ruin my moment as they push me forward in their own anticipation followed by acrimonious yells of ''Hurry up, and get off, idiot! What are you doing?''. I narrowly avoid broken limbs and manage to exit the open air metal steps descending to the floor heels click clocking unsteadily from the rough departure.

Humph! How so unlike a lady-like dis-embarkation (if there is ever such a word) from a plane, how so unlike the likes of a first lady on the arm of a president as you so often see gliding down the open air steps. Good thing I'm no first lady, and even better that there wasn't a president nearby...

Winter 2009 brings back some memories. A time, where this trip was absolutely, totally, with no doubt called for. With an unsavoury upheaval and a glitch in the daily life continuity, Shofars blew, trumpets horned and off course, spur of the moment by unconventional means, tickets were paid for and flights confirmed. Sulking at the fact that I was way below luggage allowance and thinking of the accessories that had been left behind and forgetting the not so needed many that had been brought along, it was an upward and onward journey.

Taking in every single thing that the eye could see. The brightly lit lights of an approaching beautiful African land from an air born window seat. The sun setting as plane touched down. Many people sweating profusely under the heat. Duh! Hadn't they sussed it out? Wear the much needed polo-neck with a vest underneath upon departure to fight off the cold chilly air. Fling off the no longer needed polo neck upon arrival to reveal the much needed ventilation of said vest as well as modesty still in tact! From the slow ride on the bus from terminal exit to airport arrival, and the glances at my fam with big old polo necks on - my giggles are stifled under my boarding pass used as a fan to mirror the actions of those much less accustomed to the temperature. Dare I mention I gained a swot upside the head from the victims of my giggles. Hmmm.

Luggage and all necessities in tow, we trail after the aunties, cousins and uncles who so kindly meet us at our arrival point, with hugs and kisses followed by coos of ''oooh, look how you've grown'' as they inspect you up and down and side to side. Customs wave us past with not even an inclination to look into our luggage - what luck! At least I wouldn't have to explain the need for packing an outfit for each day...and shoes for every day and evening...hey, I was planning to give some away!! :/

Everything in tact, everyone off the plane, shiny foreheads and white gleaming smiles, dust in between the sandals and toes... oh yes, prepared was I. Sandals were happily resting in my hand luggage patiently waiting to be finely fitted in place of hot sweaty boots that had been on too long. We lumber suitcases and luggage into the cars to take us to our various destinations. The air con on, windows wound up, hi life on the radio, bliss. Then!...The car halts in a sudden movement as car horns blare.

The driver winds down the window, as car horns toot behind him angrily. He shouts at the one that caused the obstruction.

'I will break your head with a stone, oh! Did you even earn your drivers license you imbecile with monkey ears!!'

The smells of Tilapia and Banku, Jellof rice and Kenkey fill the air and the happy lively music and banter of those having their own private street party ring through the air.

We continue after the momentary mishap and my heart simply screams...welcome home to Ghana!!

Sunday, 13 February 2011

The Man Who Saw Tomorrow

Phoenix hurried out of the office.

It was her lunch break. She wanted to catch a bite to eat as well as finish some errands that were long overdue.

She had a skip in her step. Life was good, everything was working out. She had a great job, her finances were in order, she had met a great man, and she had good friends to share all the good things that were happening to her with. And above all, God was good.

She walked on down the road, feeling confident and assured, then she was suddenly stopped by a stranger.

He wore a turban and seemed intimidating in his stature as he stood tall and lured over her. He sneered as his eyes pierced deeply into hers.

'God says you are going to travel soon' the stranger said, he gave her no chance to speak. 'Many good things are coming your way'.

Phoenix drew her eyes from his, and knew immediately, he was one of those that her friend had warned her about.

'As I was walking down the street' her friend had recalled, 'This man stopped me and began to tell me about things that were going to happen in my life. I listened long enough to know that he was spot on, but... I stopped him soon enough to know I didn't want to know anything else from him'.

Phoenix held up her palm to the stranger's face. Silently she meant 'talk to the hand but the face ain't listening'. He interpreted her sign in his own way and overall as being a 'no, and thank you'.

Phoenix carried on and went about her hourly endeavor, leaving the stranger behind.


Phoenix sat down with her head in her hands.

She had just returned from an amazing holiday in Colombia. She had been offered a promotion a year ago and the rise in pay meant she was able to save and be liberal with her ventures.

She held the letter she had just opened and read, and couldn't believe it.

''Due to economical reasons, your post has been deleted. Please feel free for a right to appeal.''

Phoenix threw the letter across the room.

This couldn't be happening to her. She had just endured a period of ''we need to go on a break'' courtesy of her live in boyfriend right after her return from Columbia, and as a result she was living in a bedsit until she found better accommodation. And now, now she had lost her job!!

She got dressed and made her way into the office. She would continue until her time had reached for her to depart as well as sort out her legal rights.

So much to do, and so little time. Phoenix was stressed out.

She made her ritual of leaving the office for fresh air for and a bite to eat.

She walked down the familiar path, her heavy steps held less insouciance as previously, when suddenly she was met with a familiar stranger.

He had the same turban and the same demeaning stature as he stood tall over her. He had the same piercing eyes.

'God says You are going through some tough times, and you are in need' The stranger said.

Phoenix paused. How strange, she thought, that she had met with the same man again a few years later.

How strange, she thought again, that he was right the second time too.

He was right the last time and he was right this time.

Only the last time, Phoenix did not have a reason to listen to him. She had God then. But what good was God to her now. This time, her life was in disarray, she was in desperate need of knowing where she was to go next, where her life was headed. God was silent in her requests, He wouldn't answer so quickly.

But this man...this man would...

'Please, tell me more Phoenix said as she pulled out a satisfiable amount of money and placed it into the stranger's open and beckoning hand.

"And The Lord said to me: "The prophets are prophesying lies in My Name; I did not send them, nor did I command them or speak to them. They are prophesying to you a lying vision, worthless divination, and the deceit of their own minds."

Jeremiah 14:14

Thursday, 10 February 2011

A Small And Humble Army

They gathered their belongings and decided to take action. Some thing had to be done.

They were four men. Hungry, destitute, and desperately in need of food and shelter.

Their lips were non existent, but had they had any, it would have been chapped and whitened from thirst and acute hunger. Their clothes were worn and torn, and their entire being cried for cleansing.

They had been banished from entering any city because there was fear that they would spread their disease.

They remembered the bells that would ring as they would walk through every town. As the bells rang a voice would shout 'unclean! Unclean! Unclean!'.

The sound of the bell was a deterrent to others. Mothers would carry their babes away to shelter. Carpenters would take their work inside. All would hide as the bells rang long and loud, as they took their walk of shame.

'What is going on?' some would cry, ignorant to what was taking place.

'Lepers!' the townsfolk would whisper. 'Lepers are near by!'

''Are you sure this is the best way to go?' One asked. 'Surely they will spot us'.

'Then let them spot us'. Another answered. 'For it is better we die trying than die in defeat. We can enter the city gates and search for food. If we are found, then let the God we serve take care of us once and for all'.

They began to walk through the dreaded heat, slowly but surely to an appointed destination until they reached the gates of the city.


The sound of a thousand horses and twice that could be heard. Troops of men on their horses and chariots along with their weapons were on their way.

'An army!!'' The leader of the camp cried as he heard them. ''There is an army of more than a few thousand men due to come to our city. They will cause havoc and destruction, they are no match for us. We must hide''.

''But Sir'' one trusted man cried, ''we must at least fight!''.

'Are you mad?!'' the Leader roared. 'Did you not hear the words I spoke? Do you not hear them approaching us from still yet afar? They are more than us! We must go! Now! Gather together our things! Let us go!!''

The troupe of the army gathered their belongings and fled.


The four men continued to walk. Slowly, each footstep in front of the other.

'We are getting close' One croaked.


'Quickly you fools!' The leader cried, 'They are getting closer! We must be as far from this place as possible before the army arrives!'


The four lepers sank to their knees and grabbed at the gates.

'We have arrived!' They cried. The gates were open. The four lone men entered in and were astounded to find that there was nobody to be found.

They uncovered their faces and looked around, utterly amazed.

Food and lively hood were all around. They laughed at the abundance, and cried as they ate and drank.

'What do you think made these people leave all this in such a way?' One asked. 'Surely God has been with us and we have surely been blessed'.


2 Kings 7: 3-8

God will make your footsteps sound as if an army is approaching. For if He is for you, then nobody can be against you, and they who are against you, will flee. You who may be small and despised, but the Lord will make you tall and feared in your own right.

Wednesday, 9 February 2011

Odds and Evens

'Right', Micah said turning to Kyla. 'Here I have a ball of wet tissue'.

She squidged the wet mass in her hand. 'I'm going to throw this up into the air...If it falls in a messy ball, the answer is yes. If it falls in a neat little bundle the answer is no'.

Micah threw the wet messy ball of tissue up into the air and after a few seconds it fell back onto the floor into a messy bundle.

'There!' she cried pointing to the wet mass. 'The answer is yes!! Hallelujah, Thank you Jesus! I knew I would get a yes!'. She was ecstatic.

'Ok, ok, now' Kyla said. 'That was absolutely ridiculous. What kind of odds was that?'

'What???' Micah answered. 'That was totally legit'.

'It was always going to be a messy ball!' Kyla replied. 'The tissue was always going to fall, and you were bound to get a 'yes'! She sighed.

Ok, here's how it goes' Kyla continued. 'We throw up this mass of wet tissue. If it falls back to the ground, it's a yes. If it DOESN'T, it's a no'.

'Well, what kind of crazy odds, is that?' Micah laughed. She really wanted a yes. She knew she would get it. 'We know what the obvious will be...we know the laws of gravity! We saw what just happened! OK, you have a deal!' she agreed.

Kyla threw the wet mass into the air, and they waited.

They waited.

And waited and waited.

'Well, what do you know?' Kyla and Micah looked up to the sky, puzzled. 'It didn't even fall back down'.

They heard a loud cawing sound in the distance as they saw a bird fly past them, wings flapping hard, obviously wanting to be seen. In it's beak was the wet bundled mess of odds and evens that never fell to the ground.


Sometimes what we ask for is on our terms only with no room for anything but what we want. We can manipulate a situation to make sure it ends our way...Fleece God like Gideon, but have you ever thought of really letting go and seeing whether there may be room for anything else? To see what God really has for you?

There are odds and evens, and there is faith. Throw up that wet bundle of tissue, see what answer you get....It may not be what you want to hear though.


Micah's answer was a no...temporarily, even though she was after a yes right away. In due course, she received her yes, through faith...application through prayer...and then the manifestation....and all that after some lessons learned. Delay wasn't denial. The bird in the end couldn't digest all that wet mass of paper. He had to cough it up at some point...and God remained faithful.

Monday, 7 February 2011

She Could Have...

She could have kicked herself for allowing the voices of so many to dictate her life.

'What shall I do?' She would ask.

'Do this, Do that' was the response.

She could have kicked herself for not following her heart, instead letting the words of others shape her next step.

'Is this the right thing? Is the wrong thing?' She would ask.

'This is better for you, and this is not the way' was the response.

She could have kicked herself for being so young and impressionable and allowing others to take control of her life.

'Do this, do that' They would say.

'OK' was her response.

She could have kicked herself for having so many regrets. Wanting to take back all the wrongs and make them right again.

Hoping to have done things a little better and listened to her Inner Voice a little more.

She actually did try to kick herself - if you could ever do such a thing - as she steadied herself against a wall and stuck out her left foot ready to strike her right. Trying to gain her balance, she instead lost it, and fell onto the floor in a heap.

Arms outstretched she waited for Him to pick her up.

And He did. He held her hand and picked her up and held her close as He revelled in the fact that the apple of His eye had reached out for Him. Her hope was no longer in others, only in Him.

She had forgotten the Lord was one of restoration and redemption. For the years the locusts had stolen were surely to be returned to her. She held Him close and submitted to His love.

She could have kicked herself...

But thank God, she wasn't even able to do that.

Wednesday, 2 February 2011

Knock, Knock, Knock

The little boy knocked on the the door of his next door neighbor. He bit the nail from his forefinger and chewed on it viciously.

Knock, knock, knock.

''Yes, can I help you dear?'' a women with a warm face looked him up and down, then smiled back at him from the open door way.

''Yes'', the little boy replied. ''Is Marcus home please?''.

The warm face disappeared and a little while later, a neat and trim looking blonde haired boy appeared at the door. He stood with his hands in the pocket of his blazer and his chest puffed out.

''Oh it's you''. Marcus's face twisted into a sneer. He stared at the boy's scruffy hair and untied shoelaces and chewed fingernails.

''Um, I was wondering if you could help me please'' the little boy replied. ''I heard you're the best when it comes to fixing broken toy cars''. He held out his toy car, with bits and pieces in his hands.

The little boy sat in the middle of his front room fiddling with his toys.

''Are you ok son?'' his mother asked. ''Didn't you go over to get Marcus to help you with that?''.

''I did'' the little boy replied. ''But he slammed the door in my face''.

''Go over there tomorrow, maybe he was busy'' the little boys mother hugged him close.

The next day, the little boy went knocking at his neighbour's door again. He chewed on his nails again relishing his comfort.

Knock, knock, knock.

He waited for Marcus to appear. He was presented with a high raised eyebrow and then a warm smile from the woman that opened the door, then a sneer for a smile from Marcus when he appeared.

''What's wrong son?'' the little boy's mother asked as she saw her son fiddling with his broken toy.

''He did it again'' her son replied. I guess the door may be able to help me''?

''Don't give up son'' his mother replied. ''Go try again''.

The next day, the little boy stood at his neighbour's doorstep. He twiddled his fingers together and held out his broken toy when the door was opened in response to his knocking. Again, he was met with a look and then a smile from the stranger, then a sneer from Marcus.

The little boy did the same thing for 10 whole days, and each day he got the same response...until...at last...

''Oh for goodness sake!'' Marcus exclaimed. ''Here, I'll help you. If not, you'll never leave me alone will you?''

Have you knocked at a door and felt like there was no answer. You're rap rap rapping only left your knuckles sore? Have you felt that you were less than what you were because of the way some body viewed or looked at you, because you thought you weren't even worthy to knock on that door?

Persistence and perseverance will get you somewhere. Someone, at some point is bound to hear you knocking.

So don't give in, don't give up, just keep on! - Thank God that He has ears.

Luke 11: 5-10